Thursday evening, Hotel Sacher, Mac's Powerbook VR.
          After closing the door to his room, Mac motioned for Johnny to sit on his bed. The Adept opened his Powerbook and pulled out the black bag Mannis gave him. From inside he removed his Oakleys and his connectors.

          With a brief pause he smiled at the shades. I was so happy when I first rebuilt these. Now they seem so antiquated. Everything seems so slow – even this G5 Powerbook, whose processor is the fastest on the public market, runs as quick as molasses. He tossed them on the bed beside Johnny. I guess I have my father to thank for more than I care to admit.

          The singer picked up the shades and gave Mac a confused look. "Uh…"

          Mac sat on the opposite side of the bed and began typing on the Powerbook's keyboard. "Uhm…what’s your favorite spot? Like in romantic?"

          Johnny shrugged before taking on a thoughtful look. "I'd have to say a lake-side cabin. Zydeco and I spent some time in one in Tahoe a couple of months back."

          With a thought, Mac directed his Navigator toward images of Tahoe. What he couldn't find a reference for he made up. With a wink to Johnny he said, "Just bare with me. I'll be right back."

          "Right back? Back from where?"

          But Mac was already placing the connectors to his left index finger and inserting the other end into the Powerbook. Instantly he was in the space he'd created for this moment. White walls, ceiling and floor became a full, rich landscape of rolling mountains, a crystal, still reflective lake and blue sky. Wifs of clouds moved by and he slowed their progress with a single glance. He added the sound of birds, then a few wild animals; a deer, an owl, a racoon. The cabin came next, tucked into a wooded area beside the lake. He didn't worry much about the interior for now – he'd be monitoring things anyway, and if they required a cabin interior, he'd provide one.

          With a start, the VR Mac looked over his shades at his reflection in the still water. He gave a satisifed sigh and then called up Syd.

          The young VA appeared instantly beside him. His eyes widened as he looked around. "You did this?"

          "Uh-hmm," Mac called up a VR connector and handed the small, black finger cuff to Syd. "Put this on. I've loaded it with a few Sentinel Rotes that will prevent any hacking. I'm connected via these as well, keeping a physical connection. Is she ready?"

          "Steaming," Syd's expression was worried.

          "Send her in. I'll go get Johnny." Back in RL, Mac blinked and looked over at the singer. "Ready?"

          "What…"

          Mac gestured at the glasses. "Just put those on."

          As Johnny slid the Oakleys over his eyes, Mac inserted their port into the specially designed one on the Powerbook. Then he joined everyone in the VR of his hard drive.

          "Whatthefuck…" Johnny stood beside the lake, his eyes wide, his mouth open. "This is VR? No wonder you Adepts spend so much time in here."

          Mac smiled. Syd stood beside him, his arms crossed over his chest.

          Johnny looked at the kid. "Syd!" The two shared a warm embrace. "What are you doing here?"

          "Helping Mac do a bit of arranging."

          The singer looked back at the Adept and pointed at him. "Like the look – might want to try that one on the outside sometime." He held up his hand and shielded his eyes from the sun. "Is there a reason we're here?"

          "Johnny?"

          Mac looked up to see Zydeco standing by the cabin. She was dressed in a tight jeans and a halter that showed her smooth midriff and flame tattoo. The Adept looked at Syd. "You do that outfit?"

          The kid smiled. "Yeah…"

          Oh dear… Mac watched as Johnny ran to her. The couple embraced and Mac motioned to Syd. "Come on…"

          He did look back to see the singer wave at him and mouth "Thank you" before disappearing with Zydeco behind the cabin. On a whim, Mac accessed cabin settings and found a nice interior.

          The Adept turned to leave, to perhaps walk around the lake and give the couple privacy. He paused when he discovered Syd still stood watching the couple. With a sigh, he turned back and grabbed the young VA by the collar. "Come on."

          Syd stumbled after Mac. "Shouldn't we like…chaperone?"

          "Syd!" Mac turned and gave the kid a sardonic smile as Syd followed in step beside him. "Let them have some privacy." He turned his gaze ahead of them. "Besides….it's all being recorded anyway."

          Syd gave a conspiratory giggle.

          After several mintues of walking in silence, Syd spoke. "I found out about your group, Mac."

          The Adept stumbled once. He stopped and looked at Syd, who stopped a few steps later. "How?"

          "It's on the boards…" he shrugged. "Not plainly like in a huge announcement, but there were some posts about a group in the southeast that ran to ground because one of their own accepted aid from the Union. I knew it was you. I was able to contact Trent. He's very unhappy."

          "Yeah, well…" Mac shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black pants. "He made his decision and I've made mine."

          "He did want me to give you a message."

          "Uh-huh," Mac looked up at the trees. I don't want a message.

          "He said to be careful. He said that sometimes things aren't black and white and sometimes they are." Syd shrugged. "I didn't understand it. I'm assuming you do."

          "No," which was an honest truth. But Trent had often talked in riddles. Seems everyone's full of them lately.

          They walked some more – neither of them talking. The sun glittered off the lake water, and birds chirped in the sky. Mac marveled at the intricate detail of this world. I'm amazed at what I can create when I have my heart in it. At least that part of me is still mine. I don't think my family footled with it.

          A flash of his dream returned, of tubes enveloping him, of Maouri's bloodied face. He shook his head to push it away. Dreams. So many of them I can't remember. I wake with only the lingering taste of something bad in my head.

          "Let's go do something," Syd suggested.

          "Like what?" Mac stopped at the lake's edge. He knelt down and retrieved a perfect pebble. Perfect because I thought of it that way. All of this is in my head. I can create. I can be someone here. Yeah…go me. I guess.

          "Oh, I don't know. I've got some great ideas for a couple of Mind Rotes. You know, Sentinels for pushing Union spies out."

          Mac pursed his lips. "What do you mean?"

          "You know," Syd ducked his head. "The Union's notorious for sicking their little mind games on us, Mac. It's a VA's nightmare. It's one of their weapons against us. Probably more up NWO's bonnet."

          "NWO…" Mac looked at Syd. "I sometimes sense you're more afraid of them than any of the other Conventions."

          "They're BORG, Mac. Plain and simple. They operate from a place called The Ivory Tower. They're the administrators of the Union – dah boss if you believe. Never try to hack them. Never. Many Adepts have like died or gone mad trying. They're great at subterfuge. And those like you and me," he sighed as he shook his head. "We're just candidates for later." He frowned at Mac. "Well, with the stuff in your head – you'd make one hell of an asset. I'm not sure why your Father built you the way he did - don't know the purpose. I haven’t found any records of iteration or progenitor monkeying like what you have. I think you’re one of a kind."

          "So...I'm an oddity."

          Syd nodded as he chose a nice, flat stone and skipped it across the lake water. "I'm thinking your Father was doing a bit of experimenting with new technologies," he looked back up at Mac. "Kind of doing more along the lines of Progenitor hybrid stuff."

          Mac pursed his lips. Questions popped up in his mind as he knelt down beside the lake. "Progenitor and Iteration tend to work hand in hand."

          "They really have too. Think about it - without the Progenitor science, how would Iteration be able to integrate the cyborg stuff with the human body? The Progenitors hold most of the power, in my opinion. Imagine a convention that holds the keys of life and death."

          Mac frowned. "I'm not following you."

          Syd sat down on the ground beside Mac. "Mac, whether you chose to believe this or not, there are people on this Earth, well maybe not on Earth but in a close dimension, that are well over thousands of years old."

          "Come again?"

          "The old Masters, Mac. Socrates, Plato, Einstein - they're all still alive with Progenitor science. Now, they can't really exist here 'cause they'd pretty much glow like human torches, but they exist."

          A cool breeze brushed Mac's cheek, carressing him. "You mean...the Progenitors have all but destroyed illness, old age...death?"

          "Yep." Syd pursed his lips in thought. "For example...that Void Engineer...the one you patched up?"

          "Calen."

          "Your email said he was shot in the kidney. Okay, you got the bullet out - but think about it. The guy had a medkit in his room that healed him in two days. Gunshot wound, ripping of flesh, internal damage - to a kidney Mac. And NNHP healed him? That was a Progenitor kit, Mac."

          The Adept sat back, his hands to his sides, his palms carressing the grass beneath his fingertips. Why hadn't I questioned this before? Maybe it was relief that the kid hadn't died. Or maybe...maybe I know these things deep down inside.

          "Uhm...you're looking a little green."

          Mac removed his dark shades and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry Syd...there's just so much about the Union I don't know, and something in the back of my mind niggles at me - as if trying to remind me that I do know, but I can't...remember.

          "How long have you had amnesia?"

          "Amnesia? I don't have amnesia."

          "I'd say you do. In some form. My guess is it's induced. You have nightmares?"

          Nightmares... Mac chewed on his lower lip. It was interesting how in the presence of this twelve year old I can feel like the child. He nodded.

          "Can you remember them?"

          Mac shook his head. "Not all of them. I can recall vague images...mostly," he closed his eyes. His dream earlier in the day resurfaced. Visions of Maouri embracing him - only it wasn't his beloved, but some hideous thing with snakes for arms. He shook his head an opened his eyes, blinking. "They're jumbled."

          Syd looked thoughtful. "I think there's more to you and your past than you know, Mac. And the first step in remembering is to discover how the memories were suppressed."

          "How?"

          "Yeah...was it done chemically, like with a series of drugs? Was it done with torture per se, like in conditioning? Or was it done with mind control?"

          "Mind control?" Mac shook his head. "Look, I'm not real up on this mind control schtick. How can someone control my mind if I have sentinels set up to guard the ports?"

          "Who said anything about using that door?" The kid's eyebrows arched. "Mac, you have a bit of Mind Sphere. You're a Mage - which means you have to learn to keep your thoughts guarded. You have to know how to block out unwanted intrusions." He frowned. "Trent never told you this?"

          "I don't think he ever believed I'd need it." Mac put a hand to his forehead. "I'm sure he thought the same as me - that I'd be a simple Librarian on the Digital Web. I'd remain in the dark, be a shadow if possible."

          "Not anymore." The young VA pointed to his own head. "Too much up here now. Too much you don't know about. Too much I can't find any information on." He sighed. "And..." he cleared his throat. "Now, I don't know this for sure, Mac - I'm only guessing. But I'm thinking Trent knew a lot more about you and who you are before he ever made his move to mentor you."

          "Are you saying..." the Adept frowned. "Trent knew about the connections? About my Father and my family?"

          "Maybe not like that - but he's an Adept and he has Prime, right?"

          "Yeah. He said it was one of my shortcomings. I don't."

          "Well, I'm sure with it he actually saw what was in your head, and he saw the potential there. For what, who knows. But I'm thinking," Syd shrugged and sighed. "Maybe he was trying to prevent what happened from happening."

          "But prevent what? My upgrades? Why prevent them?"

          "I don't have the answers. I'm only guessing." Syd looked at the lake. "I can send you some incrypted files, some ROTEs on security. But you're going to have to find someone to teach you how to block thoughts."

          "You can't?"

          "No, for me, it just comes natural." Syd turned and beamed at Mac. "You're going to have to tell someone in your Cabal that you don't have a Mentor - that you need help in Mind. Otherwise, you put everyone at risk."

          The snap of a branch alerted the two of them and they turned to see Johnny coming up the path. His expression was undreadable, but if Mac didn't know better, it looked as if the singer was about to cry.

          "Johnny…?"

          The singer stopped in front of Mac. "I'm ready to go."

          Mac looked at Syd. The kid winked and gave Johnny a wave as he sprinted back to the cabin. "Keep in touch with me, Mac," the kid yelled back.

          The Adept nodded to Johnny and cut the connection.

          Mac blinked and removed the connector from his finger. As he looked at Johnny the entertainer removed the Oakleys slowly. They fell to the bed and he put his hands to his face.

          Oh hell… Mac shut the Powerbook and moved it away. He wasn't sure of what to do. He'd hoped seeing Zydeco would have aided in the singer's meloncholly mood. Now it looks as if I've just made it worse.

          "Johnny?"

          Johnny took in a great shuttering breath. "I could have done something, Mac. I was there…and he died. I watched that man die."

          "Die?" Mac looked about the room, unsure of what Johnny spoke of.

          "Casada," the singer looked up. His eyes were red rimmed, his face flushed. He turned a pain-filled gaze to Mac. "I can't stand it. I could have done something – but I froze. I didn't act and an innocent died."

          "Whoa.." Mac put his hand up. "Do? What could you have done? From what I hear, you and Calen were stuck in a closet."

          "I could have gotten out."

          "And done what? The intruder had a gun. You’d have gotten shot,” Mac paused and then shook his head. “Well, maybe not. I’m sure with your odd magic that bullet would’ve somehow recocheted off of you somehow and hit the intruder. But either way, you are not responsible for Casada's death. No one here is. He would have died had you been there or not."

          "But that's just it," he swallowed and his eyes flashed anger. "I was there, Mac. I was right…there!" He pressed his finger into the bed to make his point. "And I didn't do a damn thing.."

          Mac stood up and opened his arms wide. "Do what? Yell? Draw attention to yourself while a killer priest was in the house? Come on Johnny," he shook his head. "There was nothing you could have done. Casada knew he was going to die…he prepared for it. You weren't there to prevent it – you were there to witness. Hell, maybe even to avenge his death." I'm not sure I'm actually making sense here.

          "Christ, Mac," Johnny's shoulders rounded as he slumped in defeat. "I can't handle the guilt. I can't stop myself from feeling responsible."

          "Well," the Adept shrugged. "Did you tell Zydeco? Was there anything she could say that…"

          "She broke up with me."

          Johnny's voice had been so soft that Mac wasn't sure he'd heard anything. "She…what?"

          The singer took in a deep breath. "Zydeco couldn't deal anymore, Mac. She left me. She cut herself free of me."

          Oh fuck. Mac felt his own shoulders slump and he turned and sat on the bed beside Johnny. "Oh damn…I'd hoped to bring you together – hoped she could make you happy. Look what I've done…"

          "It's not your fault, Mac," Johnny's tone held a bit of merriment.

          Mac turned to see the singer give him a slight smile. "No…but I feel so bad. I mean…I knew you were in a funk and now I know why. I tried to make it better…"

          "And I appreciate that. You went out of your way for me, and I'll not forget it. It's Zydeco…" he shrugged. "Damn…I could sure use a drink."

          Mac nodded. "Me too." He thought about the bar in the hotel's lobby. "Well, that I can do."

          "What?"

          "I can buy you a beer." As Mac stood, a little niggling voice in the back of his mind tried to remind him of the last time he'd gone out drinking. You didn't get any sleep. Well, that wouldn't happen this time. "Come on. We'll get punched together."

          Johnny nodded, albeit reluctantly. They left the suite and as Mac checked the door to make sure it was locked, Syd's warning from Trent returned to him. "Sometimes things aren't black and white, and sometimes they are."

          What did it mean?

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