Mac collapsed into sleep before I’d even put the car in gear. Probably just as well, his system needed to work the drugs out on its own, even if the adrenaline rush had kick-started the process. Once we were well away from Uno, I found a grocer’s and picked up some mineral water and snacks. We were both going to need the fuel.

As I was driving, I tried to tap into the secure files back at Caster, but it seemed they were onto the access codes I’d used. I had no way to get in and find out how they’d picked up on McGyver’s presence in the first place. That was bothering me. There should have been nothing about the implant to give him away, so what had the fool done to draw their attention?

     Yet – they had zeroed in on him as if he'd been…expected. They had been prepared when they pricked him with a sedative on the street curb. They'd taken him straight to a Progenitor facility and placed a madman in charge of his care.

     Thoughts of Burke darkened his mood even further, and as those thoughts burned with unrequited hatred, his environment reacted to it as well. The lights dimmed and the furnishings seemed to melt and mold into something darker, more maleficent.

     The Navigator became the room at Caster – just as he'd seen it before the sedatives had been administered. His desk was still there and he sat up and looked around. The table sat before him, the bed on which he’d lain as they’d poked, prodded, shocked and drugged him.

     He stood and walked to it. Music began, low and thrumming, and he recognized a song by Vast entitled "Here". He recalled the pain – the shocks that lifted his chest from the table, and caused him to bite down so hard on the cloth bit shoved between his teeth that he'd thought he would crush his jaw.

     He recalled his muffled screams as they increased the pain, over and over again. He remembered the spray of sparks as they shot from the pain inducers, the flickering of the lights and the screams of men as he cast out with everything he could to stop the machines.

     To stop the machines.

     He felt something materialize into his hand. Mac looked down to see he held a metal pipe. What good could this it do to destroy the memory? Nothing. But to destroy the instrument – that would be...pleasant.

     And as the music reached its crescendo, the Adept raised the pipe and he hit the bed over and over, and in this reality, the world of his mind, the bed collapsed before him, and it bent and twisted and he envisioned Burke inside of that bed, smashed and bleeding, hooked to monitors and riddled with drugs that robbed him of his ability to fight.

About an hour out of Uno, Mac suddenly started groaning and thrashing in his sleep. I checked his vitals, and everything was as well as could be expected. Just a nightmare, I guess. Can’t really blame him for that.

     He turned and smashed the machines again; the physical brunt of the pipe’s impact against the metal was more of a release than the actual magic had been. He yelled and screamed as he smashed screens, glass, and utensils of torture. Anything within his reach he destroyed.

     The Navigator's lights flickered as the music increased. He charged at the door and kicked it out, signifying his escape. One that he'd been able to achieve on his own, without the aid of Calen or Rebecca.

     The music slowed…the voice called to him. He thought of Rebecca. And he stopped. He stood amid the destruction and lowered his head as the music peaked again. Where was she? What had happened to her? If Burke ever touched her – did to her what he had done to him…

     I will kill him. When I see him again, I won't care what my action will jeopardize. I will kill him with my bare hands. I will hunt him down.

     And as the music died away, he looked around him. The Caster room was gone – in it replaced by what had once been his library. Books lay trashed and scattered about on the floor. The shelves were on their sides, some stacked like half-fallen dominoes. The desk was in pieces; the monitors he'd used to watch his body sleep and heal lay on their sides, their screens flickering off and on.

     He dropped the pipe and went down on his knees. I am a grown man. I shouldn't weep. I shouldn't. But he did and the sobs came as he remembered the humiliation of not being in control. And he was frightened. Terrified at what might have happened had Calen not set up a lockdown protocol.

     If they had entered my mind…

     So much would have been lost, including himself. There would no longer be a me, but pieces of me, scattered about the Union. He went down on his knees beside the monitors and rubbed his hands over his face, through his hair.

     He tried to block out the memory of Rebecca's voice. "You've stopped his heart." He knew what that meant. He knew a needle had been thrust into his heart. His chest ached with that memory. And he threw his head back and screamed.

     The sound echoed throughout the Navigator. But no one heard him. He was inside his own mind. Inside the workings of Iteration and Engineer technology. I am a thing.

     I am the Union made physical.

     I am…

     Something within the flash of the monitor caught his attention. It wasn't a diagnostic that showed on that screen, but something else. He sniffed and bent down to the screen. A tac-net readout.

At least they hadn’t cut off all of my access. The tactical net was still feeding information to my monitors, and the Communicator was decrypting it. I realized my error later. Completely unforgivable.

     Events within Uno. Reports near Caster.

     Mac felt a knot form in his throat as he read. He shook his head slowly as he read it again…and again.

I was letting the Nokia handle the decryptions, then transmitting important data to my DEI without using a cable. I was so tired and distracted by my own thoughts that I forgot that Mac’s implant would pick up the signal as well.

…NWO Agent killed in rogue escape. Rebecca Anne Cooper. Line of duty…remembered well for her bravery…attempting transport of John Doe from Caster…

He choked back a cry.

Dead.

Rebecca was dead.

     They’d confirmed that Agent Cooper was dead. I’d known, of course, from the first reports of the destruction of the ambulance. That had happened about the time we were just getting to the car back in Uno. It had taken the pursuing agents some time to identify her remains, however, and they were just now sending out the confirmation.

     What I hadn’t realized at this point was that Mac now knew it, too. Or that he knew about my change in status.

     He shook his head slowly…and backed away from the monitor. He couldn't tear his eyes from the message as it stared back at him. Dead….dead…killed…fiery explosion…

     He put his hands to his mouth, holding back the scream that threatened to tear his lungs from his chest. His vision blurred from the grief that pooled over his eyes and ran down his face in rivulets of warmth.

     …survived by a three year old daughter…husband Richard Cooper, IO station.

     Daughter…I have a niece I've never met.

     I killed her mother. She died protecting me. She died…

     Another message flickered on. Nicholas Calen identified in Vienna. Classification: Rogue. Death falsified. Apprehend in connection with John Doe escape; held responsible for the death of Agent Rebecca Cooper.

     They had identified Calen.

I knew my ‘death’ wouldn’t be kept a secret forever. And I knew that when the truth was revealed, Control would have no choice but to classify me as a rogue. That’s what I was. And still am, I suppose. It still bothered me, though. I had accepted that pursuing the mission to stop Sterling was the right thing to do – if he unleashed whatever force he was searching for upon the mundanes, they’d have no chance. Disgraced or not, I am still one of the defenders of this planet, and I am going to do my job. I just wished I could have done it with the support of the agencies that also have that responsibility.

     The Navigator went blank. Dark. Nothing. Only the sound of Alan Cooper's grief was heard, quiet sobs in the blackness of grief.

     He woke – blinking several times to clear the fog in his mind. He recalled with sharp focus what he'd learned. Rebecca…

     Mac was still in the passenger's seat, slumped to his right, held in place by the seat belt. Yet he'd turned his body on his shoulder. He saw Calen, his hands on the wheel, his expression turned toward the road ahead. The VE had a troubled expression on his face and was absently rotating and stretching his wounded shoulder.

     How long have I been asleep? His back was stiff, and his left leg throbbed. The drugs are wearing off, maybe? I could easily drift back to sleep. And he nearly did as he heard Calen muttering under his breath.

     Perhaps the VE thought he was still sleeping. Perhaps he'd forgotten about Mac's hearing. Either way, Mac heard his words clear as is he'd spoken them aloud.

     "…mission is costing me too much…"

     Costing? Him? Mac frowned. What had this mission cost him? Did Calen know of Rebecca's death? What had I had seen on those monitors? Mac could only assume he'd picked up a broadcast on the Union lines – and if so, then yes, Calen knew.

     "It cost Rebecca a lot more, didn't it?" Mac didn't recognize his own voice. It was low, even, measured.

I wondered how long Mac had lain awake, listening to me arguing with myself. I wondered how much he knew. That Rebecca was dead, certainly. That I was discovered, probably. Did he know that there were agents searching for the two of us, even now? The last batch of transmissions indicated that they thought we were still in Uno, or Vienna at the furthest.

At least they weren’t following immediately, and they hadn’t blocked all of my access. I wouldn’t be getting into any more secure facilities with my current ID codes, but the datanet access was still available to me.

Still, the man’s presumption got to me, pissing me off. I was hardly in the best of shape or the best of moods, and he was going to blame me for Agent Cooper’s death?

     Instantly, the VE’s face hardened into its usual arrogant mask.

     Calen glanced at Mac. "You should be sleeping."

     "Answer me."

     "You're damned right it did. Maybe I should have left you there; the rest of us would be better off."

     The Adept attempted to sit up and found his muscles protesting. He was weaker than he realized and still groggy. "So why didn't you just leave me? Seems like you'd enjoy the thought of me being vivisected. Isn't that your preferred ending for deviants?"

     The VE abruptly yanked the steering wheel to the left and pulled off the road. He threw the vehicle into park and turned an angry glare to Mac. "If I didn't think you'd crack under the pressure, then yes. I think that might well have been about the best possible outcome."

     With a groan Mac pushed himself up into a sitting position. He held onto the dash in front of him for balance. "I didn't crack. I never cracked." He narrowed his eyes at the VE. "Not once did I tell them the first god-damned thing before my implants shut down. You nave no idea what I went through."

     But the VE wasn't going to be outdone. He gave Mac the damnable, holier-than-thou, I-know-something-you-don't smirk that the Adept hated. "I've got your charts, I know exactly what you went through. You ran in front of a car and got run down. They pumped some interrogation drugs into your system, to which you reacted poorly too. They then sedated you heavily." He raised an eyebrow. "Does that about sum it up?"

     With a narrowed gaze, Mac fought down the urge to punch the sanctimonious son-of-a-bitch in the nose. But what would that accomplish? You're sick, you're weak, and you couldn't stand up in a fight right now no matter what fight program you downloaded. And somehow, I doubt that wound on his arm would slow him down enough to matter.

We argued, and for a moment, I thought he was going to throw a punch. In hindsight, I’m glad he didn’t. Bullet wound or no, my temper was about out of control, and if he’d come at me I’d probably have killed him without even thinking about it.

Wouldn’t that have been fucking fantastic? After risking my own life and then getting Cooper killed to get him out, I was within seconds of ripping his head off myself. Wasn’t it enough for him that he was alive and free?

More than ever, I regretted going after him. Was it my own sense of self-importance that sent me into Uno after McGyver? That my mission was far more important than the Union’s procedures?

It was certainly my arrogance that got Agent Cooper killed. If I hadn’t been so overconfident in my abilities to fool the system, maybe we could have taken our time, come up with a better plan.

     It wasn't worth it. It really never was. "You left out the electro-shock, but yeah that about sums it up. And if you knew I'd been through that, you knew I probably wasn't going to crack. You knew the implant would shut down."

     Calen only glared at him.

     "I found something else, Mr. Calen." Mac narrowed his eyes. "My personal files have been tampered with. It was subtle at first, and then I tried to access them. I was denied. Seemed the encryptions had corrupted. Care to tell me what the fuck you were doing snooping into my personal logs?"

     "I never snooped," the VE brought his right finger in close to Mac's face. "Your implants were damaged, asshole. Damaged. The electro-shock fried a few things. I repaired them with 'bots while you were still unconscious. I'm surprised that was the only damage you found."

     "Damaged?"

     "Yes," Calen shook his head and lowered his finger. "Mcgyver, why the hell would I want to read your angsty, doom and gloom personals for? Like I care?"

     Mac blinked. He relaxed, some, and rested back against the seat. His quick anger had tired him once again. Christ, will I ever be over this?

     He sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His head hurt where he'd smashed it and fatigue was still a lingering companion. So," he sighed again and looked at Calen, blinking. "I have to wonder, Mr. Calen, just why it was you came after me anyway?"

     The VE snapped his mouth shut and turned back to the wheel. He cranked the car and pulled back out onto the road. He didn't say anything for about half a mile, then quietly, "Had I known the cost, I would have left you to rot. Is that what you want to hear?"

     His mouth opened to respond, but Mac stopped. He shut it slowly. He realized that his only shock was in not being surprised at the answer. "Of course. Always looking out for number one."

     Calen flinched as if he'd been slapped. "Someone has to see this mission through."

     The slight emotional flicker to the VE's tone didn't escape Mac's ears. He narrowed his eyes at the marine and shook his head as realization dawned on him. "It's Rebecca – you're just as upset over her death as I am. It's not you you're concerned about – but you're beating yourself up over her death."

     And from the clenching and unclenching of the VE's jaw, Mac knew he'd stumbled on the immediate discourse of Calen's agitation. He cares. Damn it all… Mac shook his head. He really fucking cares about other people.

     But it was obvious to the Adept that the marine would never admit to such a thing. And in the end, did it really matter?

     With a heavier sigh, Mac turned in his seat, and folded his arms over his chest. "None of this makes sense."

     "Well no," Calen said, his tone only a touch lighter. "I have to ask you what it was that actually caught their attention."

     "What do you mean?" He turned his head to look at the VE.

     "Fact is, you shouldn't have been fingered. The DEI was silent. That I know. So, my assumption is that someone knew you were here, in Vienna. Why did you run out in front of that car?"

     Mac pursed his lips. "I thought I saw Maouri."

     Calen snorted. "She's dead Mac. Even I know that. So you tried to commit suicide?"

     "No – I ran from two Agents," he sighed and closed his eyes. It would be so easy to sleep. "I didn't see the car until I flew over the hood. But you're right. This has been nagging at me."

     "So – you see Maouri. I say it was a clone to draw you out. The only people I can guess that knew you were here are family members. So, either it was your father…"

     Mac swallowed and looked at Calen.

     "…or it was Richard", the two said in unison.

     Mac groaned, only not in pain this time, but in anger. "Son-of-a-bitch. If I find out he had anything to do with Burke and his sadistic…"

     "I'm not sure your brother put Burke in charge. I think the ItX Doctor saw an opportunity and grabbed it. And I wouldn't plan revenge just yet," Calen said, his voice low. "He's just lost his wife."

     The Adept was quiet for a moment, then, "I know this doesn't mean much," he closed his eyes again. "If I'd have known as well, what was going to happen…I would have wanted the draponomine to kill me." He sighed. "I'd do anything to have Rebecca back."

     Calen snorted. "You have a seriously fucked up family, man."

I had to move past my mistakes, then. Learn from what had happened, and not let it happen again. Well, if there’s one thing I can always count on with Mac, it’s that he’ll give me something else fucked up and interesting to think about.

     Opening his eyes, Mac started to react with the usual familial defense as anyone would when their family, no matter how dysfunctional, was attacked. But if he did become angry, he didn't have the strength to sustain it. There was truth in the VE's statement, especially to anyone looking in from the outside. He licked his lips and closed his eyes. "Fuck you, Calen. Rebecca and I…we met before she and Richard married. We had an affair. But when he found out…" he let the sentence trail off.

     He was so tired…he closed his eyes for a moment, thinking sleep would take him again, but heard Nicholas muttering to himself again.

     Calen muttered. "Another good agent lost to stupidity. Mine, this time."

     Mac opened his eyes and looked at Calen. "Another? Who else?"

     The VE sighed. "Too many."

     Grief older than the marine's nineteen years held sway in that sigh. Mac pursed his lips as he watched Calen. There was so much about the young man he didn't know. So much experience wrapped up in that arrogant, cocky shell that the VA couldn't fathom.

     He thought about the scar he'd seen across the kid's back. Something so terrible, what looked as if it should be a mortal wound. What had he done to acquire that kind of mark? And from the looks of it, it had happened years ago. How old had he been?

     "Would their deaths have anything to do with the scar on your back?"

     Calen gave Mac a sharp glance.

Didn’t quite work as I’d expected. Turned out McGyver’s mind was working remarkably well for all the crap he’d been through. Maybe some sense had finally been knocked into him. He was thinking things through logically.

Of course, he picked the most inconvenient time possible to start that shit.

     "I saw it when you took your shirt off."

     "What, did they implant a brain when they were mucking around in there?"

     Mac ignored the comment. "What…what did that? I've never seen anything like it."

     Calen was silent for several minutes. Mac was about to ask again, knowing it might be a bad idea when Calen spoke. The marine’s voice was hollow and harsh, tinged with hatred.

     "They're called garou. The mundane legends call them werewolves." Nicholas narrowed his eyes as he concentrated on the road ahead. "Without a doubt, the worst kind of deviants. Unthinking monsters determined to wipe humanity - deviant, technocrat, or mundane - from the face of the planet. And yes, that would be a time for another stupid death. Several."

     Mac shook his head. "Were you close to them? The ones that died?"

     "They were my brothers in arms. Marines."

     "They," the Adept chewed on his lower lip. "What happened?"

     The VE didn't look at Mac, but his voice was cold when he answered. "They died."

Mac kept picking at me, drawing out the memory of disastrous mission. It was supposed to be a fairly straightforward training and observation drop. “No contact.” Right.

Lots of unexpected contact later, fourteen of my friends and one idiot of a lieutenant were dead, and I was trying desperately to hold the team together for a retreat while literally holding myself together where one of the beasts had torn into me.

Some of us made it out. Jason didn’t. He knocked me out of the way of the blow that should have killed me and so I was only wounded. But he drew its attention, and its next move tore his head from his shoulders.

     The Adept continued to watch the VE as he appeared lost in thought. This man is deeper than others give him credit. Mac inwardly sighed. And I am most guilty of this. I judged him by his calling – when in truth, I know now his heart is brave and loyal. It doesn't mean I'll trust him completely – not yet.

     Though now I owe him my life.

     Mac shifted in his seat. His left leg was beginning to throb. The drugs were slowly dissipating and soon he knew he would feel the aches and pains from the past few days. Or had it only been a day? He checked his internal clock. Thirty hours had passed since his capture.

     He looked again at Calen.

     Mac yawned and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry about your comrades," he said softly. Fatigue brushed against him, and he succumbed to sleep, drifing back into his VR where he stood and looked at the shambles of his Navigator's library.

It must have been the drugs. McGyver had turned into a psychoanalyst on me, just when I really didn’t feel like examining my feelings and motivations. I certainly didn’t want to discuss them with him.

But if not with McGyver, who?

Hwang was gone, returned to England, where she had been taken into custody as a rogue agent. She had already been taken off-planet by the time I caught that bulletin, so there was no chance of another dazzling rescue attempt there.

I supposed I could contact my parents directly, now that my cover was shot. Never could really talk with my dad about emotional sorts of issues, though, it always made him uneasy. I remembered then, I’d already sent a message to Sgt. Meyers and needed to check for a reply.

     Mac sighed as he examined the damage he'd wreaked. It had felt good at the time – but now he was just empty. Spent. Exhausted. Both inside and out. And Calen had gone silent. Nothing showed on his flickering monitors save his own vitals. The drug was nearly gone. He was left with only his own fatigue – tired in mind and body.

     With a thought he wiped the entire Navigator environment clean. There was nothing but a white room. He called in his old bedroom, the one he'd had at his father's home in Portland. Down to its finest detail it appeared to him, around him. He could smell the detergent his mother used on the sheets. Mac pulled down the sheets, climbed in and allowed himself up to oblivion.

And there was. In my wildest dreams, I never expected the message he had sent. He was surprised to hear from me, and pleased. He didn’t believe the reports about my going rogue, thankfully. Good to know he had confidence.

His other words were far from comforting though. The VE’s Plan,one my parents had been critical in setting up and implementing, was to secede from the Union. And it had begun. Even as I re-read Meyer’s message, I could sense the absolute panic in the Union communication and tactical nets as everything went to hell. My access codes were knocked out of the system so abruptly that I felt a physical blow, and almost lost control of the car, only just managing to clip a tree instead of ramming it. I think that’s when Mac woke up.

     Something hard and unforgiving jarred against Mac's temple. He came abruptly awake and reached out in time to grab hold of the bimmer's dash as the car skidded to the side and clipped a tree on the passenger's side. He glanced at Calen as the VE muscled the wheel and brought the car to a sudden stop, off the main road.

     What the hell? The Adept leaned back in his seat, his hand going to his head as an ache began at the base of his spine. He knew it was only a tension headache – but it didn't help his already frayed mood.

They weren’t locking me out because I had illegal codes though, it was because they originated from a VE. The other Conventions were circling up against us, though I knew it was already too late.

The others have always looked down on us for being more interested in the Engineering portion of things than the politics that consumed a great deal of other Technocrats’ time. But they didn’t realize just how heavily dependent they were on us. When the primal taps on their Constructs shut down, leaving them powerless, airless, lifeless hunks of metal floating in space, then they’d understand.

In the meantime, unlike most of the VE, I was still stuck on Earth, and would have to deal with the fallout.

ItX had already recommenced the Pogrom, and now they’d be putting any VEs they came across on their list of people to be exterminated along with anyone else they decided to call a deviant.

I was just thinking I didn’t have enough people trying to kill me.

     Calen cursed under his breath as he got out of the car. Mac watched him with narrowed eyes as the VE paced back and forth in front of the bimmer's grill. He'd placed his hands on his hips and his face was set in a hard mask of rage.

     What had happened? Though Mac knew it might not be a good time to ask, he felt the need to get out and stretch his legs. With a sigh, he opened the door and eased both of feet out and onto the grass and gravel roadside. His left leg shook as he pulled himself out using the door and bimmer's side.

     Oh, this sucks. The Adept got himself to a standing position, then eased forward, testing the leg. It held, though a dull pain shot upward to his hip. If it was broken, I'm amazed I can stand on it all. I think it's just gotten stiff.

     No you idiot – the Valium's about worn off. You can feel it now. Mac moved slowly around Calen to a nearby tree and leaned his back against it. He took in a deep breath of clean, mountain air.

     "Calen? What's going on? What happened?"

I pulled the car over to examine the damage. Mac was awake again and back to a semblance of normal, which is to say repeating obvious questions like ‘What’s going on?’. I got out and paced around for a while, ignoring him. I had far too much to worry about on my own without coddling the Adept any longer.

     The right front wheel and fender were crushed inward, causing a rippled effect to the bimmer's hood. It was collateral damage at best – so nothing internal had been harmed. The VE turned and stood in front of the damaged fender. With a soft curse he leaned forward, his hands splayed on out on the twisted metal. Calen hung his head and sighed.

     Mac never expected what happened next to occur. He felt the soft, subtle vibration of magic, tasted the taint of metal in his mouth at the Technocratic signature. I'm sensing both? He heard the slow crunching sound of metal, as if someone were bending sheet metal slowly.

     The car's hood rippled, moved and straightened out. The fender reformed itself, and the wheel waved past Mac's vision until it was once again whole and unmarred. Within minutes the bimmer's side looked as good as new, as if it'd have never been damaged.

     Limping forwrad, the Adept took a step to the car and stared at the VE still bent over the now whole hood. He appeared not to have noticed. Calen, whether sensing Mac's approach or simply coming to a thoughtful decision, moved away from the repaired side and started pacing again.

     "You…" Mac moved slowly to the car and reached out to touch it. He felt the smooth paint beneath his fingers. There was no mark to even tell the story of its destruction. "Nicholas…"

     "What?" Calen's voice was clipped.

     "You," Mac took a step back and narrowed his eyes at the VE. "You…you're awakened. Holy shit. You just did magic!"

He was saying something about getting the car repaired, but I hardly cared. I looked it over and could hardly see any damage, must have just scraped the tree much lighter than I originally thought.

     Calen looked at the VA and just glared. "The car's fine. Get in."

     But Mac stood where he was. I can't believe what I just saw. The VE did magic! He fucking did magic!

     "Nicholas…don't you see? You fixed it. The fender and hood were crunched. You did it."

     But the VE was moving back to the driver's side. He opened the door back up, and with a scathing look to Mac, slid back inside.

     The Adept wasn't going to be ignored on this. This is too much. He's a freaking deviant. He limped to the driver's side. "Nicholas, listen to me.."

     "Get in or walk, Mcgyver."

     "You just did magic Calen, don't you understand? You're a deviant – you're Awakened – same as me."

     Calen cranked the car. He turned his attention forward. "I'm warning you. Get in or walk. Your choice."

     Mac straightened up. "You're not going to leave me here."

     The VE turned back to him and raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

     With a sigh, Mac limped around the front back to the passenger's side. Before he could get his seatbelt refastened the VE sped the car back out onto the road.

     Mac sat in silence for several minutes, his gaze focused on Calen. He didn't notice. Nicholas didn't realize what he'd done – it's the only reason for his dismissal of magic. I mean come on – everytime he sees me do magic he winces – but this time…nothing. Not even a blink.

     Calen stared at the road as he shifted gears. He pursed his lips.

     "What's happened?" Mac asked quietly. "What's wrong? Tell me, Nicholas."

I saw no reason to enlighten Mac on the reasons for my sudden distraction, but he wanted to argue about it, of course.

I ignored the Adept for the rest of the trip, which luckily passed without incident. I thought about the repercussions – with the Union destabilized, who would defend the border? What would the deviants try? What might break through?

     Daylight was just waning over the mountain as Calen pulled the Bimmer into the parking lot of Die Hieberge in Derblinkendermizzet. Mac had said nothing more during the remainder of the trip, and though he could have easily slept, he stayed awake and kept his thoughts to himself.

     As did Calen. The VE was very distracted, lost in whatever it was that had run him off the road.

     Mac eased out of the car as Calen retrieved his bag. He followed the VE inside of the hotel's lobby. Several guests sitting near the entrance stopped their conversation as he limped by. Mac gave them a smile and began to wonder what he looked like. Surely I can't be that bad. Or is it the track suit?

     As the marine put is bag on the counter, the concierge, a young blond girl came storming over to Calen, reared back, and slapped him. Without a word, she turned and stormed away.

     Mac blinked at Calen. The Adept snickered at first, then gave an outright laugh, as did a few of the patrons gathered about in the lobby's sitting area.

     He's going to shoot me, but I can't help it. I've never seen him so…stunned…before.

It was almost a relief to be grounded back to more immediate concerns when we arrived back in Derblinkendermizzet and I had to face the wrath of one scorned Fraulein Greta.

     Instead, the VE rubbed his jaw and made a face. “I think I deserved that.”

Written with Blake Sorenson

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