Spacer Fireworks & Frenzy 194
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Theme villains, and the occasional ominous undertone. We're back.



June 27, 1987

Damn. Repeat many times. If it's not one thing.... Woke up at 4 a.m. to Scott knocking on my door. This does not usually presage good developments.
     "You asleep?"
    "Lucky left a note."
    That sounded ominous. I pried myself up and went to the door, took the piece of paper he'd found on the conference room table when he went in to turn on NPR.
     Sasha - something important has come up that I need to see to. It's very physical, so I'm afraid Lucky has to come with me. This is very important, but also private, so I can't tell you anything more. We'll be back in touch as soon as we can. Chandler. P.S. Don't trust anyone who's had their identification removed. It shouldn't come to that, but it pays to be careful.
    "Well, this is certainly interesting," I sighed for lack of any better immediate response. Of course he hadn't said anything about how long they'd be gone, either; better to assume a worst-case scenario. Who knows what kind of stuff Chandler has going on when he's not helping us out. "We're just going to install a revolving door in this place. I guess we'll have to call the Senate and start advertising for a replacement when it's—" I looked at my watch— "dear God, later in the day."
    I went back to bed and spent a few minutes wondering what was going on before falling back into a very deep sleep. The dream situation has improved somewhat since my talk with Trent last month, I'm happy to say. Which reminds me, I need to call him one of these days. Had a thought about the Dawn/Emily thing.
    When I got up for the second time around 7:30, Dawn was making breakfast. Rice, miso soup, and some sort of kelp for her and Phoenix Talon, and American fare for the rest of us. I shook my head.
    "I like Japanese food. But not for breakfast."
    "Trust me, after a while, you start looking at y'know, you put these things that look like Pop Tarts, cover 'em with milk, why the fuck do they do that?" he replied with a shrug.
    I looked at my toast and back at him, not sure what he was talking about. Not that it would surprise me if he ate Pop Tarts with milk on them.
    "Coffee?" Dawn inquired, putting a plate of pickled radishes out for Phoenix Talon.
    I accepted the coffee, declined a waffle, and showed them the note. Phoenix Talon is miffed that Lucky didn't say goodbye before heading off to whatever has called them away, but I figure it's likely that they were in a bit of a rush. Come to think of it, I don't think she told him about her familiar bond to Chandler; if he's in some sort of danger, that would take priority. We'll hear about it eventually, I suppose; in the meantime, I'm not going to worry about them. Chandler knows what he's doing. Phoenix did figure out that cryptic postscript, though; something Chandler had said at one point about Blaise. He could control those who had no identification, hence the removal of the guard's badge under Copley Square back in January.
    "Everybody we meet from now on, we gotta ask for ID," my teammate muttered.
     Worrying; we thought we'd seen the last of Blaise after Dawn turned him to stone. Perhaps we should be on the lookout for those who might have similar abilities? Must remember to ask Sphinx what he's figured out about Vandemar's little killing spree. Scott told us that he'd been to check Chandler's house and found an empty lot with a few nice bushes growing there. Neat trick; I presume his neighbors no longer remember there ever being a house there at all. Looks like he plans on being gone for a while.

[Aside: Phoenix Talon]

    Later that day, I had the dubious pleasure of calling Senator Snow to let her know that Lucky was going to be away for the foreseeable future. She took it pretty well; at least it didn't involve property damage.
    "Oh. Well, I suppose we'll have to start advertising for a new person; we'll put the feelers out. Thank you for letting us know. You don't feel like you're short-staffed? We should probably be able to find someone within a short time."
    "I think for the time being we're all right." Having said that, I fully expect that we'll get a giant robot alert tomorrow. This business is nothing if not unpredictable.
    "We'll get back to you as soon as we can," she assured me.

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© 2000 Rebecca J. Stevenson