Man doesn't need a deadly weapon. He is a deadly weapon.

          They arrived with little trouble back at the Parc. Mac had the concierge bring him his shoulder bag, which he'd had them lock up before leaving for the bar. He made it to his room only to find a sock on the doorknob.

          Oh for the love of...

          He leaned up against the wall to the right of his room door and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Think. Where can you stay? You could get another room, but Calen has the funding and you really don't want to go bothering him right now - especially not with a bit of a drunk. He doesn't have a roommate...no, don't go there.

          Mark's with Johnny. Oz is with Derrick.

          Arden is with Huang...who's not in at the moment.

          He called up the hotel records and pulled her room number from the file. Two floors up. Would she be asleep?

          With a sigh he took the elevator up and knocked tentatively on the door.

          "Come on in, Mac," came the sultry voice from inside.

          A shiver ran up then down his spine. Verbena.

          The door was unlocked and he stepped in. The hairs on his neck and arms stood on end as he realized he'd walked through a Ward. He stopped and looked back at the door. His optic spun and the readout across his screen came back as UNDETERMINED.

          "Just put your stuff over by the bed. I'll be in the shower."

          He saw her move into the bathroom and watched the door shut. Well, make yourself at home. Mac set his bag by the empty bed, the one closest to the door. He decided the pressure against his eyes was more due to the alcohol he's ingested than the magic he detected about the room. The woman has her own magical arsenal in here. I'm impressed.

          He sat on the bed and kicked his shoes off. Next the coat and then... Mac lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes...it would be so easy to just drift away...

          "No shugah," came Arden's voice in his mind. "It's time to get to know one another."

          Mac's eyes opened. He expected to see the Verbena bending over him, yet she was still in the bathroom. Had that been a dream? He checked the clock. I dozed a little. But still...had I really heard her in my mind?

          The door opened as steam curled out. The vanity mirror fogged as Arden stepped through. Even completely covered in her complimentary hotel room robe she was shapely. He pushed himself up on his elbows and smiled. "I hope you don't mind my crashing here?"

          "Oh no, shugah," her velvety voice answered. She faced herself in the mirror and began to comb out her long, wet black hair. "I, in a way, saw this coming."

          "You did? You have a precog ability?"

          Arden laughed as she turned to face Mac. "Oh no, hon. I watched Kyle at the bar. I saw him when he left. I knew you'd be needing bunking for the night. And I doubt you'd want to room with the VE."

          She's right. "Well, I thank you."

          The Verbena sauntered over and sat on the opposite bed's edge. Mac pulled himself up and moved to the edge of his own bed. "Arden...about your daughter...I've been meaning to ask you," he arched his eyebrows. "Is she yours? The child the Avalon Group brought to you?"

          "Ivy...yes. Her bio signs are there and her DNA checked out." She lowered her brush and sighed. "But as to whether she's my daughter, I can't answer that. She's been worked over by Progenitor and I-X facilities. Who knows what is in her mind."

          "Is she still here?"

          "No," Arden smiled. "I sent her back to New Orleans. My coven will check her out - and let me know."

          Mac nodded, but couldn't stop the sadness of Trent's abandonment from falling into his lap again. I have got to get my mind off of this. "I wasn't able to hear most of what you said in the bar...about your past."

          "What's to tell?" she shrugged. Her robe fell down from her milky white shoulders. "I was born a Gypsy. I traveled with my parents from town to town."

          "Doesn't seem like much of a life."

          "It was good, for what it was. I was a happy child. And I loved to sing. I met Cade Hunter, the first love of my life, when I was sixteen. We were in Mobile at the time. Then Cade vanished after I became pregnant."

          Mac opened his mouth to speak, but Arden held up a well manicured hand. "No, it's not like that. I later found out that Cade's family were Technocracy - and they were less than happy that he'd been in love with me."

          "Was it his family that took your daughter when she was three days old?"

          Arden nodded. "Yes. Later after I began my singing carrier in New Orleans, I met Alex Hawthorne. He was a good man, and good to me. I loved him," her smile faded. "In a way. We were wealthy and we lived the high life together. We aided our tribe and set up funds - we lived a life as if we were the Gypsy King and Queen of New Orleans," she looked at Mac with dark, smoldering eyes. "But this didn't set well with the real Gypsy Queen...Ruby Damiana, the Dark Lady."

          A shiver raced up Mac's spine and he was sure the room's temperature dropped as Arden spun her tale.

          "I noticed Alex's schedule changing...he wouldn't come home most nights, and spent an exhorbitant amount of time at the office. And around him lingered a strange scent; like nothing I'd ever encountered. I was afraid that he'd been placed under the influence of someone or something. So I called for an audience with The Dark Lady."

          Mac leaned forward, his eyes wide.

          "The Dark Lady told me Alex wasn't true - that he was being unfaithful. And from the smell of this woman's perfume, I knew who with."

          "Her?"

          "Yes. I snuck back later and caught them."

          Mac found himself enthralled. "What did you do?"

          She gave him a long, slow, sweet smile. "I killed them." She blinked. "He of course admited that he'd been under a spell and that he still loved me. But it was at the moment that I thirsted - and within that room I found a goblet of what I believed was wine..."

          Mac swallowed. "It wasn't?"

          "Oh, yes, and much more. Within it the Dark Lady had mingled her own blood and when I drank it down, I Awakened." She sat up straight and Mac was sure he saw something glow about her. "I am now The Dark Lady, and her spirit is my mentor."

          Mac blinked. He sat back and narrowed his eyes at her. "You killed two people in cold blood...and then you became the Dark Lady?"

          She nodded.

          He shook his head. "They let you get away with it?"

          "Her coven accepted me as their new leader, Mr. Mcgyver. No questions asked. And accepted the leadership role."

          Mac rubbed at his face. Arden's tale sounded like a Halloween tale, told to frighten young children from the plantation house by swamp. In face, if he tried hard enough, he could see the house in his mind. "So...you killed your husband in cold blood.."

          "In passion."

          "Passion...right. And you killed his lover, who happened to the this coven's leader, and they just accepted you? What about the local law enforcement? What about Hawthorne's family? You just got away with it?"

          Arden's right eyebrow arched high. "Yes, Adept. I just got away with it."

          Mac rubbed his face then ran his fingers through his hair. "I will never understand Verbena."

          "And I shall never understand a Virtual Adept." She set her brush on the nightstand separating their beds and lounged on the sheets. "So tell me, Adept...why do you prefer to live in VR?"

          The question wasn't an uncommon one, but it was different to hear Arden ask it. "First off, mistake number one. VA's do not prefer to live in VR. I for one, cannot stay there for very long. I have to have real, physical contact," though the implants do make his present experience very real. "VR is where we can do magic. It's where we find information and disperse it. I use this," he pointed to the back of his head, "to look up what people want to know."

          "So then you really were a Librarian?"

          "Still am. In a way. I worked with several Verbena in Atlanta and was succesful in finding what they needed."

          She smiled. "I now your name. Verbena speak in mighty circles. And I must admit, I know very little about your Tradition." Arden pursed her lips. "Like why anyone would let another person monkey around with their head."

          Mac shrugged.

          "I can sense them..." she sat forward, her right hand outstretched toward him. Mac started to back away, then shrugged to himself. He leaned forward so the Verbena could touch his forhead. Her fingers were hot and the contact sent a small shiver down to his toes. "The intrusions. I hope they make you happy."

          "Well, I'll never understand the need to shed blood to affect magic," he returned her smile. "But I'm willing to over look it."

          The Verbena eyed him cooly.

          "I am curious about your relationship with a Chorister. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy Mark's company. It just seems like you two are so...different."

          "We are and we aren't. There is an understanding between us. And his tenacity for survival impresed me."

          Mac recalled the Chorister's story from the pub. "I can't believe his parents threw him out because he was gay."

          "He's not alone, Mac. There are many parents who cannot cope with truth - and so those with strong wills and spirits are born," she smiled. "Like Mark."

          Mac put a hand to his mouth and yawned.

          "And now it is time to sleep, Adept." She stood and dropped her robe.

          Mac choked as the Verbena pulled back the covers and slid nude between the sheets. "Oh, by the way, I sleep nude."

          No shit. "I"m going to take a shower." Mac stood and grabbed a tee shirt and green, plaid pajama bottoms from the inside of his bag. He went to the bathroom and shut the door.

          "Good night, shugah."

          It was in this deep slumber that the voice came. Soft at first, and insistant. Mac pushed it away, not wanting to emerge from his much needed sleep. But again the voice came - and an urgency rode it through the levels of consciousness to where he rested. Arggh...how can I hear this voice if my systems are supposed to be shut when I sleep?

          "Mac...which room are you in?"

          He frowned and groaned as the voice pulled him to wakefulness. No, no, no... I have to get some sleep.

          "Oh God...please Mac. I know you can hear me..."

          He opened his eyes to darkness. Not solid night, but enough to let him know the dawn had not yet come. The Adept pushed himself up on his elbows and tuned his left ear. "Johnny, is that you?"

          "Mac...where are you?"

          Mac cursed. Of all those in their party, Johnny would be the one to awaken his systems from a dead sleep. The singer was somewhere roaming the hall outsdie. With a stifled yawn, Mac stood and stumbled to the door. Again he opened it as he had in Vegas to see Johnny Meyer standing outside.

          Only this version of the singer wasn't dressed to go out. No, this singer was in a state of disarray. Mac closed the room door behind him so as not to wake Arden. "Johnny?"

          The man's hair was twisted and matted. His clothes, a tee shirt and jeans, were wrinkled and worn. Dark circles hung below his eyes and a wildness lived within their depths. "Mac...I'm scared."

          "What...what happened?" He reached out and took the singer by the arm. He led him to the farthest end of the hall to where the elevators were. A small sette gave them a place to sit. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

          "No...but yes...well I don't know." Johnny ran his fingers through his hair. "It's just that...I got to thinking about tonight, you know? And about that team that Nicholas said was coming to get me, and that my luck or whatever stopped them." He shook his head. "Mac, I didn't do anything. And what bothers me most is why were they coming after me?"

          Mac rubbed his stubbled chin. "Johnny, first off, you don't have to do anything. It comes natural to you. I've seen it. Your magic is coincedental by nature. Secondly....have you never seen the dossier the Union has on you?"

          Johnny's eyes widened. "Dossier...on me?"

          "Oh, don't worry. They've got one on all of us. But yours..." he smiled. "It reads like a comedy routine. Capture attempt failed. Capture attempt failed. Termination order failed and it goes on and and on. I bet you didn't even realize they'd tried to capture you, much less terminate you."

          The singer shook his head. "But why? I'm nobody."

          "Not true, Johnny. You're a big somebody. A somebody that I watched walk right past constructs and wasn't questioned and stopped. I watched you weave a magic in that club that I've never experienced. You're like this gifted Mage - all full of positive light and energy. You're something they'd love to get their hands on." He shrugged. "And it's the fact that they can't have you that's eating them - they've tried. And failed. A lot."

          "B-but..." he shook his head. "I didn't do anything to those guys tonight."

          "No, but whatever it is that protects your ass did. Don't fret about it, Johnny. Rejoice in it. You don't know how happy I was to hear you were going with us. Even if Zydeco wasn't happy, I was." He gave Johnny a big grin.

          The singer gave a small chuckle and seemed to relax. "So...they want what I have which is...?"

          "Potential, Johnny. You give potential. You make a bad situation better, whether anyone will give you credit or not. You are luck all wrapped up in a neat package. You're special." He leaned over and took Johnny's shoulder. "And most important, they failed again, Johnny. And they'll continue to fail as long as you're here. We need you on this mission. Huang was right in chosing you."

          "So it's not some horrible thing I've done?"

          "Nope."

          The singer relaxed again. "I guess I can live with that. And sorry about pulling you out of bed like that - but I had to talk to someone."

          "No problem." Mac yawned. "Just remember it's not you, it's them. You're fine. Hell, you're more than fine."

          "But there's something else..."

          Uhoh...

          "Yeah?"

          "I had a dream - and I guess this is what really freaked me out. See, it was about Syd, and you know how much I admire that boy. And he likes me too."

          "Johnny, he worships you."

          "Yeah. I guess. But see...I dreamed about him. He was in this courtroom, not like a modern one or anything, but like the one in England, where they wear wigs."

          "Parliment?"

          "No...more like defending a thesis sort of thing, like in Amsterdam where I went for a friend of mine's thesis." He pursed his lips. "Only it was Syd there, and they were asking him all kinds of crazy questions. Nothing I didn't understand, but very simple ones. Basic ones."

          "Were they asking him to defend anything?"

          "No," Johnny was lost in the memory for a moment. "But I was there. I knew I was there and I stood in front of Syd. He didn't see me at first, or so I thought, and then he looked right at me."

          Mac leaned forward when the singer paused. "And?"

          "He said," Johnny looked at Mac. "He said, 'Just remember, Johnny, there are five'."

          There are five? "Five what?"

          "That's all he said. And then I was awake and shaking."

          Only five. Mac rubbed his chin again. He really should shave. "But he seemed okay?"

          "Yeah, very okay. He almost smiled at me. And then, that was it." He looked at Mac. "I was...I just wanted to tell someone."

          "Well thanks for letting it be me. I can actually contact Syd, which I will do as soon as you get back to bed. I'll also try and contact Ortega, see what he can understand about the dream as well."

          "Will you really do that for me? Right now?"

          Mac chewed on his lower lip."Yes, I will." You need to sleep, you idiot. You can see the clock on your Navigator. It's nearing five in the morning.

          Johnny was beaming, his smile returned. "Oh thanks, Mac. I owe you on this."

          "Keep in mind that I can only send to these people. I'm not sure if they'll answer back. But if they do, I'll get right with you."

          The singer stood and grabbed Mac's hand. He pumped it up and down. "Thanks, Mac. You're a real pal."

          Yeah, that's me. A real pal. A real dead-on-his-feet-on-the-first-day-pal. He gave Johnny a smile. "Can you make it back to your room?"

          "Oh yeah, no problem." He stood and pressed the up botton on the elevators. One pinged immediately. He turned and smiled at Mac before he stepped inside. "Thanks Mac. I owe you one." He diappeared.

          Mac slumped in his chair. Sleep. You have alcohol head. You need sleep. He leaned forward with his head in his hands. "What the hell am I doing?" he asked himself.

          What you're meant to do, came a voice in his mind.

          Mac sat up straight, his eyes opened. Who had spoken? That wasn't me. He stood and looked around the hallway. His port opened and he sync'd with the cameras again. There was no one around but himself.

          When no other voice came, Mac dismissed it as fatigue. He checked his clock again...five hour time difference. In California that'd make it about 8 p.m. the day before. So Syd should still be up.

          He sat back down. Might as well do it here - not gonna go back in there and wake Arden up.

          Syd?

          The Library remained empty save for his own icon. He cleaned the desk a bit and sorted a few files.

          Syd?

          Again there was no answer and Mac wanted to panic. His friend had come so quickly before. Had the dream had some real meaning? With Johnny, who knew? The Union might have finally moved and taken him. Or he might have gotten caught while looking up information for me.

          "Mac?"

          The Adept turned around to see Syd standing behind him. "Syd," he couldn't stop the relief in his voice.

          The young Adept shook his head. "What's up?"

          "Are you okay? Why did it take so long to answer me this time?"

          "Well, I was busy." He shuffled his feet.

          "Busy?" Mac narrowed his eyes. "What were you doing?"

          Syd shrugged. "The usual."

          "And that would be?" Mac was losing patience. He was tired and cranky and not in the mood for games. "Syd, what were you doing?"

          "Mac, I never tried to hide it from you that I was involved with the Union."

          The icon of Mac blanched. He took a step back. "What...?"

          "What I mean is, they've been trying to recruit me ever since I Awakened. And so they contact me directly from time to time."

          "And?" Okay...so far so good so not real scary. Yet.

          "And I always say no. It's always in VR. A big room like a courtroom, and they're all there, wired in to a central processor somewhere. My guess is it's Control, but I'm not sure. Anyway, they always put me in this room in a chair and ask me questions. I always answer them. Same questions everytime and they offer up the world. I always say no and they go their way."

          Mac snapped his finger. "Just like that?"

          "Yeah, just like that. Only this time," he turned and moved away from Mac and the desk. "See, I was there when I heard you call. I was in this meeting. And it went a bit different this time."

          "How?" Mac slowly sat down in his chair.

          "I was listening, sort of, as usual, and then this image appeared to my right. I knew they didn't see it - somehow it was beyond their radar." He looked at Mac. "It was a Sphinx."

          "Holy..." Mac sat back and removed his icon's shades. "Go on..."

          "I watched it and it became like a teleprompter. So I read it out loud."

          "You read it...what'd it say?"

          "That I shouldn't worry, there were five." He shrugged. "That was it."

          "Did these men hear you?"

          "Oh yeah," Syd waved at Mac. "But they were confused. They terminated the session and I came here."

          "Syd...you're not going to believe this..."

          He told him all of what Johnny had hashed out. The young Adept was pleased he shared a dream with his favorite singer, but he was also as confused as Mac and Johnny. The two put their heads together to try and puzzle these mysterious events out, but Mac was too tired. He gave up.

          "Look, I've got to get some sleep. Would you do a bit of research on this for me? I'm going to tell Johnny tomorrow what happened to you, because it sounds like he somehow dreamed his way into VR. I'm going to contact Ortega too, and get his advice."

          "Shouldn't you find Trent and tell him?"

          Mac swallowed. He didn't feel like hashing this out right now. "No, not now. I'll...try him tomorrow. But if and when you learn something, let me know."

          "Okay. No problem. Tell Johnny hi for me." Syd waved and disappeared.

          So now Syd has received a missive - but what did it mean? There are five? Five what? And why had Johnny shared the missive? He put his head in his hand. My brain is mush. I can't think even to log out to the web right now, something I haven't tried yet - going out into VR on the Digital Web using my new toys.

          Scary.

          But, it might help. And he had to figure out how to contact Ortega. Mac opened his eyes and sat forward. He needed to find Ortega before he went to sleep. With my luck, as tired as I am, I'd reboot in my sleep and lose what I've learned.

          Coffee...

          Mac, still dressed in his pajama bottoms, teeshirt, and socked feet, meandered downstairs to look for coffee. He passed by the desk and the conceirge there smiled at him. She was a foot shorter, petite, with brunette shoulder length hair. Her eyes were dark and expressive. He stepped forward. "Hi."

          "Bonjour," she returned his smile.

          He asked her in flawless French if there was coffee availble anywhere. She nodded and motioned him behind the counter to where she had just brewed a fresh pot of hazelnut coffee. She offered it to him and asked if there was something in his room he needed fixed since he was roaming the halls.

          "No." He sipped the coffee with her and smiled. He watched her a minute and thought of Sheila. Was this girl like her? Full of that untapped potential? Mac wouldn't know - without Johnny, the magic wasn't there.

          "What is name?" she asked in English.

          "Mac McGyver. You?"

          Her eyes widened and she set her mug down. "You have package."

          Package? Mac arched his eyebrows. Who knows I'm here? Oh god don't be from Trent. I'll break down right here.

          She pulled a small, yellow package from a box beneath the desk. Mac noticed a second package, and the name on the front said Calen. Uh-huh.

          He opened it as the conceirge moved away to allow him privacy. Inside was a note from Laura Huang and a directory for him.

                    Mr. Mcgyver.

                    As you know, I have gone in for a psych evaluation. I have been able to subvert their efforts to subdue my Eidolon, but there is always the danger that they will discover this fact.

                    I was able to accomplish this because of a pill we introduced containing nanites that rendered the Progenitor drugs, used to subdue the Eidolon, inert in the blood stream.

                    If I am compromised and they send a clone you will be able to tell the difference because of the nanites. I have provided for you an uplink to a passcode that will allow your optics to see the nanites. Embedded in the translation pills that several people took, were an infusion of nanites. If you look at any of these members, (the language pill). You will see what I'm talking about. The file allows you to access a heat rez signature and specifically design the presence of these nanites.

                    I have also included two patterns of myself - one with and one without, to make the distinction evident. I have also given Mr. Calen a chip to use in his shades so that he may see these as well.

                    If it's not me then destroy it. Immediately destroy it.

                    Laura Huang

          Mac rubbed at his forehead. Greeeat. Another thing to worry about. Especially since I never took either of the pills. I don't have nanites. He sighed and checked the directory given. The passcode was there as she promised and he downloaded the file into his optics. He checked the different pattern sets on Huang, and was sure he'd be able to tell the signature difference at a glance.

          Providing I'm not asleep. Now... he sighed. The letter to Paul.

          Mac wasn't sure how he was going to deliver it - he only had faith that it would get delivered. And probably by gramps. Mac checked the lobby clock, too tired to dive back into his hard drive. Nearly six a.m.

          "Miss...do you have some paper and pen I could borrow?"

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