![](../../../../images/1pixel_trans.gif)
|
|
"Ah. A pleasure meeting you." He looked a bit nonplussed, which is standard upon meeting Albert.
"I am off to film the show," he informed us. "Excuse me."
"Have a good time," I told him.
"He's a little creepy, but he's all right," Phoenix Talon whispered to Paul.
"Albert has a show on cable access," I supplied. "He explains the mysteries of the mind. I think, I haven't watched it."
We introduced him to Newton as well, then performed the grand tour of the base, which took all of ten minutes.
"I suppose you can have Lucky's old room, since she wasn't using it even when she was in town." She'll probably be pissed at me for that when she gets back, but what the heck. It's not like she had any stuff in there.
Dawn joined us. There is still something of Japan lurking about her features, but other than that she's returned to looking like a normal American teenageralbeit a ludicrously beautiful one.
"This is Dawn, my daughter," Phoenix Talon introduced her. "Dawn, this is our new guy, Paul Sutton. What's your 'real name,' so to speak?"
"Actually, I haven't chosen one yet."
"Oh. Maybe I can help you with that."
"Ma'am." He shook Dawn's hand.
"Mr. Sutton," she nodded. "Um, do you need any furniture in your room, or anything? Any particular styles you'd like?"
"Yeah, Dawn can set you up," Talon agreed.
"Um... something simple? Nothing much. Regular bed, small desk, simple." He looked a trifle confused.
"He was in the Army hon, so he's not used to anything fancy, I'm sure."
"Spartan, standard. I make do."
"I can do spartan," she smiled (and later that day, she did; simple and very pleasing furnishings). "Breakfast is ready," she informed the rest of us.
"Dawn does breakfast and occasional matter manipulation," I explained as we headed toward the kitchen. She's really hard to explain to people.
"Ah. I see. I don't recall reading her file...."
"She's not exactly part of the team."
"Interesting."
"She's a wondah," Phoenix Talon said with satisfaction.
"You know, that gets worse every time your mom visits you," Scott noted his recently thickened accent.
"Yeah? So? Ma don't visit that often."
"Just as well," I sighed. "Breakfast is this way."
Phoenix being Phoenix, he just had to take Paul aside and say (not as quietly as he thought he was), "Look, we just met, and I'm not saying you'd do anything like this, I don't know, just trying to make it straightforward right from the start: you touch her, I like, break all your limbs. I've got a responsibility. I know you wouldn't," he continued earnestly, "but we're all living together, you gotta make sure of these things." Paul looked absolutely shocked that the thought should have entered Talon's mind; the latter shook his head. "I shouldn't have brought it up, let's go eat."
"While I can understand your concern, Mr. Talon, I can assure you, nothing like that would ever happen. Don't mention it again," he added in a steely tone.
Sutton seems like a decent sort, and at least this time we have a good reason for his reticence to discuss his past activitiesthey're all classified. We took turns giving him the rundown on the team's history (edited) and our "rogues gallery," such as it is:
Xyrgoth - locked away for all time (we hope)
Gretchen and Blaise - taken away by Chandler's friends
Blood Boards - dormant, many dead after the recent problems
Lord Fimbulwinter - missing, presumed dead
TECH - bothering someone else, somewhere else
Traveler - ditto
Wuxia - four jailed, whereabouts of the fifth unknown
League of Nations - presumed back in Europe, where they can darn well stay
Marcus - missing, presumed dead
Lepidopterist and Toy Man - missing, presumed wealthy and amused
Don Vincent Guiliani/Silverblood - not sure what he's up to
Felix Javelin - at large, Revolution enemy #1
World Crime League - "presumed nonexistent," in Talon's disgusted phrase - though we didn't really get into this one; I'm not telling Paul anything that isn't public knowledge until we've had a chance to see how he might react.
| Top |
![Next Page](../../../../images/next.gif)
![](../../../../images/1pixel_blue.gif)
© 2000 Rebecca J. Stevenson
|
|