The Spatial Shard

He walked away from the service window and sighed. Rannis was coming to grips with the repercussions of his decisions. His wallet was slightly less excited about his new tenants than he was. Fate, however, had delivered a container of mixed nuts into his life and he was still looking forward to the sales of the transmitters and other such paraphernalia that he had discovered and removed from the Strato-Runner.

“Of course,” Rannis thought. “…were I to sell the vehicle itself, I’m sure my finances would have as much zeal as my hopes, hmmm? But I could not do that to Sharon, even though I know that sweet child would hold no malice against me… I certainly would!”

He made his way toward the parking stalls where his old girl waited for him. Two more blocks and he would be flying home, awaiting the return of the boys who were filled with curses for Rannis from the day before. In retrospect, he could have handled matters differently. He could have advised the boys of the grueling acclimation process Earth-side humans must endure once they decide to do more than simply visit the Five Districts. But that could have led to a potential session of 1,000 questions, chaos and fear. By the time they had regained consciousness, most of the tests and procedures had been completed. The boys had not particularly approved of Rannis’ ‘delivery’ methods, but he was sure their attitudes would be reversed this afternoon.

“Old man!” a voice called out, causing a few heads to turn, but Rannis kept walking. As cruel as his parents had been in naming him Rannis, neither ‘old’ nor ‘man’ were parts of his designation.

“I represent a seat of the CoN and I command you to stop!” the man said in a somehow louder voice.

“Fecalicious!” Rannis sighed as he continued to walk. The CoN was the Cabal of Nobles! His Earth-side friends thought they had political issues in their country… they were young and so incredibly naïve.

In the formation of Five Pointes, the leaders of the five different districts had decided the body in power of Undertown should be apart from all the realms, yet made up of them equally. By the time all the arguing was done, the governing body, the Cabal of Nobles, had been created. In the beginning, anyone appointed to the Cabal had their work cut out for them with all of the outbreaks of violence there were. But over time, as the Cabal was given more and more power, the violence ebbed and order was upheld. To the commoner, the Cabal of Nobles was a body of heroes that had triumphed over a great and powerful enemy. They were heralded… as they should have been. But they were also a force to be reckoned with. Their only problem was that they eventually had no villain to fight and, as nature abhors a vacuum, a few of their number had become the villains themselves. Undertown had been in the midst of a slow downward spiral ever since.

Rannis crossed the street and saw two Inforcers waiting for him. He could see their seal on their chests and recognized it. The downward facing yellow triangle with a black square in the middle of it was a fairly common symbol. Rannis could recognize many threats with a passing glance; that did not mean he wanted to spend time in their company. The two large men each took an arm as soon as Rannis stepped on the sidewalk, and turned him slightly to escort him into the alley. They walked him to the very end of it, nearly fifty meters total. Rannis noted the two nine-story buildings on either side of him. Belmortar had been used on the construct of one, and shaped stone on the other.

“Perhaps you should go and see a Med-Tech, old man,” the keeper of the two shelves of solid muscle said as he walked down the alley, dressed in his formal blue jacket and gray slacks uniform. Three more Inforcers, in matching uniforms, walked behind him. There certainly was not a shortage of fabricated muscle around today. “Something is wrong with your hearing.”

“With all due respect, my name is not ‘old man’, hmmm?” Rannis grumbled.

“You do have a point there,” the walking eyesore said as he took off his long gray gloves, tucking them into his belt. “You could have turned to see who was speaking.”

“You could have called me by my name,” Rannis shot back, a snake-like hiss effect to his voice.

“Careful, old man,” the officer said, pushing his authority.

“You have a care,” Rannis said as he planted his feet. “My person has been touched, no charge has been voiced… and I am not a wanted man!” Now that he was facing the street, Rannis knew most of his movements would be to his right. He had an affinity for shaped stone; it was ever so much more difficult to use in a construction. But, for the love of the Sacred Quill, the Belmortar came in spray canisters! He leaned and threw the two Inforcers toward the Belmortar wall. He had intended to throw them both through the wall, but this construct had two layers of the material and while one went through both layers, the other was lodged in the second; still, both were stunned.

Rannis then reached for the officer, but he was already jumping up and over the three Inforcers that stood behind him.

“Restrain him!” the officer ordered. The closest one was already moving before the order was given. His punch could have probably shattered two walls of Belmortar, but Rannis dodged to the side and grabbed the wrist of the attacking man. He pulled against the arm while leaping forward, his knee nearly folding the anxious man in half as he found his stomach.

Rannis spun, avoiding the kicking attack of the next Inforcer and throwing the one he had. The body flew into the chest of the last Inforcer and the two of them tumbled to the ground. Landing from his kick, the only untouched Inforcer threw a Binder at Rannis, who caught the end of one of the catch-tendrils and continued his spin, throwing the Binder into the hole in the wall. The Binder caught the Inforcer who was trying to get up, wrapped around him, and locked the man in a stasis field at the same time it administered a powerful electrical jolt. Such a configuration of a Binder bordered on illegal, as the prisoner would be held motionless, feeling only the pain of the charge until the stasis field could be dropped.

The officer had landed and drew his Power Rod. He fired a blast that Rannis caught with his hand and then slapped it into the chest of the man still stuck in the wall. The man screamed as his nerves were charged and then made to cease their activity. Only his heart and lungs still managed to function, but even they were slowed. Rannis may have no longer been in the line of fire from the officer, but his action made him turn his back to the untouched Inforcer who wrapped his arm around Rannis’ neck and quickly applied a choke hold.

Rannis gasped as he grabbed the man’s arm, but he could not budge it. He slapped the man’s leg and his PEP delivered a powerful electrical charge that staggered them both, but at least the hold was broken. Rannis moved around the man, knowing the two entangled Inforcers were up on their feet again. Each of them threw a Binder. Rannis jumped back toward the rear of the alley, another Belmortar wall, tapping another control on his PEP. One Binder grabbed the man he was using as a shield; the other stopped at the wall that Rannis phased through.

“Crafty old scab!” the officer muttered through clenched teeth as he leaned forward into a very fast run. He slapped a control on his girdle and blue light sprung out in all directions from his belt. Each beam of light bent in a prefabricated fashion and wrapped around the officer’s body as he ran. He was now wearing what was called a Power Frame. His weapon also transformed, becoming a Power Lance. The force energy of the armor increased the speed and power of his run, but the two Inforcers still beat him to the wall. Each one put their shoulder into the wall of Belmortar, and it folded from their combined strengths. Rannis’ body shot straight up in the air like a bullet. He shot out a force line and swung himself on to the roof of the Belmortar building.

“Energy fulcrum,” the officer said as he looked at the diminishing energy construct Rannis had made, expecting his attackers to come through the wall instead of over it. The moment they did, the force wall he created had catapulted the old one into the air.

“After him!” the officer commanded as the back of his armor changed its format into wings and a propulsion unit. He flew toward the street in an attempt to cut off the old man’s escape.

The Inforcers had their harnesses on under their uniforms and they generated a gravity pulse. Their augmented strength was enough to jump three or four floors easily, the gravity pulse allowed them to jump up to the roof in one bound.

When the two Inforcers landed, they were surprised to see that the old man was not running. He was waiting for them, which cooled their ambitions quite a bit, but they had their pistols and one Binder each. They moved away from each other and took battle stances. The old man’s eyes squinted tight together as he jumped straight up and flipped. Two rockets flew under his body and hit one of the Inforcers in the chest. Each warhead burst into vanilla-colored foam and quickly encased the body of the Inforcer. The foam ball rolled backward, toward the lip of the building.

“I hope that thing grows over his head,” Rannis remarked after landing, and the other Inforcer looked at his compatriot.

“No, don’t take your eyes off of him!” the officer yelled but it was too late. Rannis had already leveled his hand toward the man and fired his PEP. The polarity of the anti-gravity harness was reversed and the device was activated. The object of super gravity, the Inforcer plunged through the ceiling and every other subsequent floor.

“Yes, after you,” Rannis said, running toward the hole.

“No!” the officer yelled and fired his lance, capping the hole with solid energized force. He leaned forward and flew straight at Rannis, thrusting his lance for Rannis’ chest. He screamed as he passed by and could hear the man scream in pain. He had not struck the chest, but he had scored the shoulder and the arc-charge moved over the shoulder and to his target’s back. He was still smoldering when the officer turned.

“You’re outmatched, old one,” the officer declared. “I’ve got all day and so long as you are alive when I bring you in, my mission will be considered a success.”

Rannis looked at his PEP power dial and he had just over twenty-two percent left in the power cell. The scent of burnt flesh told him he was better off using that reserve for defensive measures. He patted the wounded area and sneered at the officer. “Perhaps you should proceed with your mission, hmmm?” he grumbled as he took a low stance.

“So be it, scab!” the officer said as he flew into another charge. He took a firm grip of the lance and thrust it forward, this time for the leg.

“Predictable,” Rannis thought as he jumped over the attack, his body twisting in mid-air. “Don’t they train these things anymore?” His fist smashed down on the propulsion unit. It sputtered and sparked as the officer flew by. The officer hit the roof and rolled to a stop just before going over the far edge. Had Rannis pressed, he could have just kicked him over the side and been done with it. But where would the honor be in that sort of victory?

The officer scrambled to his feet and readied himself. He released the flight format of his suit and instead erected an energy shield on his arm.

“Lance and shield, hmmm?” Rannis grumbled as he reached for his PEP.

“That thing can’t have too much more power to it,” the officer appraised, and he was quite correct in his estimations. But the area where Rannis was reaching was a small box behind the firing controls. He opened it and black powder fell to the roof. He then hit the recall for Dreamchaser. He was sure that at least the officer had an emergency beacon. Rannis was not prepared for conflict, but he could give them an incredible run for their credits aboard his old girl!

“I will not beat you using power, per se,” Rannis said as he held his hand over the black powder. He made a small circular motion and the powder seemed to follow his palm, rolling over the roof of the building, taking up part of the building material with it. With each subsequent circle, there was more powder following Rannis’ hand. He made the circles wider and wider so as to not have his gathering powder eat a hole in the roof. But as Rannis stepped forward, the powder formed into a staff and flew into his hand. He performed a simple fanfare as he took his stance.

“But skill? That I have in abundance. You look as if you could use some, hmmm? Come get it!”

The officer walked quickly toward Rannis who matched his speed of stride. His thrust was easily deflected by Rannis and he moved his shield in front of his face just in time to deflect the old man’s powerful thrust. The officer gave two steps and Rannis spun, coming around with another thrust. Again the blow was stopped, but Rannis’ strength backed the officer up three more steps. Rannis smiled and drew the anger of the officer who activated an energy flow through his shield. With a wide swing, the shield created an arc of cutting energy that passed inches over Rannis’ ducking head. The dodge had cost him the opportunity to thrust, but he placed his staff on the roof to steady himself. The officer laughed as he swung his lance and cut off the top of Rannis’ staff. The old one backflipped to avoid a knee lift, but the officer ran to keep pressure on his opponent. Another quick swing and the staff was hit again, but the old man had a grasp of the inside of the younger man’s shield arm. The officer quickly lifted his Power Lance, but Rannis was quicker to grab the wrist, preventing the weapon from striking.

“Then again, why deny power when you have it,” Rannis whispered as he began to stretch the officer’s body. Old or not, the young officer had underestimated Rannis’ strength. “I suppose that too is a skill, hmmm?”

On the verge of screaming, the officer activated the anti-personnel device for his Power Frame and Rannis cried out as energy coursed over his body. He threw the officer and fell to his knees, smoke rolling off his body. Rannis could hear familiar explosions in the distance. Dreamchaser was getting closer, but he was definitely getting weaker.

The officer landed on his back and slid to a stop. He kicked up to his feet and charged the old man, giving a battle cry of the victory he was about to take. A staff blocked his downward swing for the old man’s shoulder. The officer thought it would be simple to transport his opponent with only one arm, but the staff prevented that. Rannis pushed off the officer and hopped up to his feet. The officer re-primed his lance and swung to cut the staff. Again he was blocked, and the next three swings of the staff removed the energy component from the shield.

Rannis took a step back and held the staff, but went into what seemed to be an awkward fanfare. When he stopped, he was no longer holding a staff but a single-edged sword. The blade was only slightly curved and the handle allowed for a two-hand grip. It was clear that while Rannis was fair with a staff, he excelled with an edged weapon.

“Thank you for adding your energized matter to that which I had collected from the roof,” Rannis said as his sword gleamed. “Now about that skill…”

The officer lunged in, thrusting. Rannis deflected the attack up and came back quickly with the sword, cutting the forearm emitter. The Power Lance once again became a Power Rod and Rannis’ next swing ceased even that functionality. The next three swings removed the left waist section, the girdle and the harness the officer wore under his uniform. The man’s skin was never touched!

“Yield!” Rannis snapped as he took stance to swing again.

“I yield, I yield!” the officer shouted as Rannis stepped back, relaxed his body and twirled his blade. The blade cracked before it shattered, falling back to its original black powder state, sparking as it made its way to the holding chamber on Rannis’ arm.

“If your keepers want a word with me, tell them to send an invitation, or they can call on me at my home, hmmm? But I will not be addressed in this fashion!” Rannis smiled at the officer and fired a force line straight up, striking Dreamchaser as she flew overhead. As she climbed, he swung up and landed in the co-pilot’s chair. As she accelerated, Rannis gave his destination and the smile on his face faded. His body ached and it was injured; he had shown more than simple rust in that engagement. Perhaps more than the children needed to be trained… again!

“Home, girl,” he commanded again and Dreamchaser increased her speed and Rannis quickly thought better of his destination. While the muscle of the CoN was without a doubt intellectually challenged, they were numerous and could afford to be in more than one place at one time. He sat up and took the controls, putting his girl into a very tight turn. The new third engine was holding up quite well.

Sweat trickled from his face to the floor and he closed his eyes, looking for something to make his body move forward. The harness had been made with comfort in mind. This was his third attempt, and the only points of pain he felt came from the previous failures. He could hear the machine powering up and he anticipated its power, but this time he had to withstand it! His body ached, and the only thing he could feel for certain was the sliding ground beneath his feet. Gordon tried not to look at anything in particular, but his effort to not look achieved the same result: distraction. He slid all the way back to the wall. Applause and cheer rose up on all sides of him as Gordon sighed.

“Hey, that time you lasted nine seconds!” a young girl cried out. She was soon joined by other children and Gordon looked at the instructor who was approaching to release him from the harness.

“Can I try again?” Gordon asked, barely able to speak.

“Of course, but not today,” the instructor replied in a soft voice. “Today we are done with instruction.” He released Gordon from the harness and stood him up on his feet. “Why do you push yourself like this, Gordon?”

“Oh, it’s a personal thing, sir,” Gordon answered as he closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing.

“So young and yet so insightful,” he thought as he watched the boy regroup his mindset and his energies… after one day of instruction! “He is already gifted, and in time that gift will blossom like a rare flower in the garden, but it will not be enough for this one.”

“You are so young,” the teacher stated, “and so much of your life has not yet been lived. What is this thing which drives you?”

“I wish I could tell you, sir,” Gordon said as he opened his eyes and started to gather his things. “But I just can’t. Besides, then it wouldn’t be a secret!”

“Which means the failings of your sister cannot necessarily be attributed to youth,” a voice made both men jump; one in delightful surprise and the other in shock as he had not perceived the approach of anyone, yet someone had definitely come within his perimeter without his knowledge.

“Wilma!” Gordon yelled as he ran to the white-haired woman who seemed to glow. She squatted low to receive his embrace. She breathed out as she received his charge and coughed. But the sounds were false. Her eyes opened and met with the teacher’s. While Armonyeans often exercised the discipline of telepathy, they were a sensitive people, given to intuition and instincts. MiKivedi already knew he was in the presence of a superior; her presence was proof enough of that. But her hair, her stature, her demeanor… the Scholar Initiate had heard tales, but thought he would never actually see her with his own eyes. Sadaga, Ji-Ton Scholar of the Second Order, was embracing a child from the Earth-side of the Nexus… and from the look on her face she needed neither his attention nor his lips to speak of what he was witnessing. After a very brief stare-down, the man turned and exited the room.

“You’re alive!” Gordon shouted as he stepped back to look at her face.

“I hope you’re not disappointed,” Wilma jested and Gordon shook his head before hugging her again. “Oh my! My fighter has no trouble showing his feelings, that’s for sure.”

“Is that wrong?” Gordon asked quickly and Wilma quickly took measure of what her opinion meant to the boy. In time he should grow to know such things were unwise; it was his own opinion he had to ‘win over’. But as Wilma tilted her head to the side, she was no longer sure of what she had come to call fact. His blind trust in her, his love of her, made her question yet another given law of her Masters.

“Such a question has to be answered by the individual, and each individual answers it differently,” Wilma replied after some consideration. As Gordon took in her words, a slight smile broke across her face. “But if you want my opinion, I’d say it is a very good thing!”

“Good!” Gordon beamed before his smile broke. “Oh, Wilma, this is my Teacher, Mr. MiKivedi.” Gordon turned to make an introduction, but there was no one there for him to introduce to Wilma. “Where did he go?”

“He looked to be the very busy sort,” Wilma said as she grabbed Gordon’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’s got another class waiting on him.

“Tell me, what are you studying here?” Wilma asked as she looked around the room, slightly confused.

“Body Mechanics,” Gordon answered proudly.

“And here I thought that was all about balance and flexibility.”

“Oh, it is,” Gordon said matter-of-factly. “But our teacher gives an extra credit class. And since I have to wait for Wayne to show up, I figured why not.”

“Wayne is here too?!” Wilma said, feigning surprise.

“Yeah. Four floors up. Genie and Sharon are back on Earth trying to get more players for Edge.”

“Edge?!” Wilma said, no longer needing to feign shock.

“Yeah!” Gordon said with a smile. “Genie is going to be a Flyer.”

“And… your father is okay with this?” Wilma asked, walking Gordon out of the room.

“Are you kidding? He hates the idea, but Rannis says th-”

“Rannis? Who’s Rannis?”

“He’s kinda like our guardian,” Gordon said, the closing moments of his class now all but forgotten. “When we were bringing you here, we landed at his place.”

“Really?” Wilma said as she quickly turned to the left. She felt the approach of the Inforcers. Three of them, all from the House of Pel’Tierre; the golden triangle wrapped around the black square was popular among the Negatroix. Her probes slipped by their automated mental defenses, something of an uncommon level of skill. Those who possessed the ability often spoke to one another and had decided it was best to not advise the Negatroix of their success. Wilma pulled up three images and she recognized all but one. They were the faces these three Inforcers had been tasked with ‘bringing in’. She could also see that they were not on any official CoN business; there was no legality for their presence.

“Hmmm, yet another attempt at strong-arming one’s way to achieve foolish and inconsiderate goals,” she thought. “This unrecognized image might be the Rannis my fighter mentioned.”

It was quite unfortunate for the Inforcers that Wilma was particularly fond of both Wayne and Gordon. She would have been tempted to watch them try, had they been trying to arrest Sharon, simply because it would have been a good fight, at least initially. But she adored Gordon’s purity of spirit and his grasp of honor. As for Wayne, he was anything but handicapped.

“What is it, Wilma?” Gordon said, looking in the direction he felt he should. His eyes were not as sharp as hers, and he missed them altogether.

“Nothing I cannot handle, dear,” Wilma answered as she ushered him toward the side door of the building. “You will meet Wayne at that door over there, sweetheart. Let Wilma deal with this.” Gordon did not argue, which won him an even better station in Wilma’s estimation, and he moved quickly for the door.

“Armonyean,” the lead Inforcer said as he put his hand on his pistol. “This is not a concern of yours.”

“How interesting that one who needs a visor to see assumes my mindset and opinion,” Wilma said as she turned her left shoulder toward the men. All three of them jumped back and the lead man put his hand on his pistol. “I am not here to start a conflict, Inforcer, but I will resolve this one if I am forced to.”

“Get planted!” the Inforcer said as he lifted his gun. Wilma moved at the same time, and though the distance for his arm to move to the necessary firing position was much shorter than the five meters between Wilma and the closest Inforcer, she owned the man’s wrist while his gun was still pointed at the ground.

“I’m not sure what you mean by that, dear,” Wilma said. “Since I happen to adore plants, are you suggesting I spend more time with them? Or is it more likely you wish to see me in the ground near their precious roots?”

The next Inforcer moved just after Wilma posed her question. He leaned and sprung forward, looking to tackle the white-haired lady. Releasing her hold upon the leader of the trio and spinning in the direction of the man flying toward her, Wilma planted her feet and thrust her palm forward. It met with the shoulder of the flying man and there were ripples from the contact that was made; his flight stopped and his knees dropped to the ground. Wilma then stood on one leg and back-kicked the man she had released. Her foot kicked his forearm as he was turning, trying to bring his weapon to fire on her. His pistol fired harmlessly into the ground. In the same motion of her back-kick, Wilma sent her second hand forward into the chest of the kneeling man. He flew once again, only this time it was away from Wilma, and he only stopped when he struck a parked vehicle.

“Whoa!” Gordon said, standing at the doorway, watching the white-haired woman defend herself.

Wilma’s head only came up a few centimeters before she sent it back down as she spun on her planted foot. The man she had kicked was swinging for her head, but he had expected her to stand up and his swing was too high. Now facing the man, Wilma’s foot came over her back and shoulder like a scorpion’s tail and kicked the man in the top of the head. He was stunned as he fell to the ground.

The last man threw a Binder at Wilma who stood up, but never turned. Her head tilted and her eyes closed, wind blew through her hair as her talent reached into the definitions of time and space and changed the perspective of the latter. The man who threw the Binder was teleported into the path of the device. It wrapped around him and placed him in a stasis field. He was half a meter from Wilma when he grunted in pain and his body locked in time.

“What did I miss?” Wayne said as he walked out the door and touched Gordon’s shoulder.

“Just Wilma showing her stuff again,” Gordon said, almost out of breath.

“That good, eh?”

“Better,” Gordon huffed.

“Why thank you, my young fighter,” Wilma smiled as she turned to face Gordon.

Suddenly, Dreamchaser came from the rear of the campus. She was low to the ground and moving pretty fast.

“Rannis!” Gordon called out, waving, and Wilma looked up at the man behind the controls. He was indeed the third of the images the Inforcers had been dispatched to collect. Her mental probes were immediately reflected back at her and were delivered with just a slight jab of pain. “Come on, guys!” Gordon sounded the retreat.

Rannis fired his PEP twice to grab Wayne and Gordon. Wilma invited herself on board Dreamchaser, but since she did so in one bound, Rannis simply nodded at her as he piloted for home. She certainly matched Imogene’s enabled description, but the young girl had failed to mention her white-haired friend was a Scholar of noted rank and power. However, even a more gifted detailing from an Earth-sider would not have known of this woman’s notoriety.

“Wilma?” Wayne said, his voice still not showing any signs of surprise, “… this is Rannis Etim. Rannis, this is Wilma, one of your people we ran into on Earth.”

“I’ve heard good things,” Rannis reported. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Negatroix,” Wilma replied.

“Make yourself at home, Armonyean,” Rannis said.

“Wayne?” Gordon said in a soft voice which both Wilma and Rannis could hear. “What’s going on?”

“On Dreamchaser or back there?” Wayne asked. “Cuz, believe me, Sport, it’s not the same thing.” Wilma turned her face away to hide the fact she nearly broke into laughter. It was a feat made even more difficult as she noticed Rannis doing the very same thing. They looked at each other and found a common thread: the children! Rannis smiled and nodded and Wilma warmly returned the gesture, but she kept Gordon from seeing any of the exchange.

“I’ll start with Dreamchaser then,” Gordon chose.

Wayne chuckled and patted Gordon on the arm. “Diplomacy begins at home, eh? Well, it would be easier to call it, if they were both men,” Wayne explained. “But with Wilma being a lady, it complicates things.”

“I think I got this one, then,” Gordon said. “Kahuna Contest.”

“Bull’s-eye!” Wayne said, holding up his finger. “Now back there, I think it is more of the same crap we had to deal with when we were first coming back from the inner city.”

“But Genie isn’t even here!”

“Yeah, but they don’t know that, Gordo,” Wayne said. “And sometimes when you think you have all the power, you learn how not to stop and think. You just give an order knowing it will be done.

“Every now and then,” Wayne continued, turning to face Rannis’ yard, “… someone comes along and forces those in power to… readjust things.”

“So they’re readjusting?” Gordon asked.

“Not yet, Gordo,” Wayne answered. “Right now I bet they’re making sure that what they wanted to happen didn’t. After the initial shock, they’ll send more power, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. Now if there’s anything left standing after that, we might get a phone call.”

“Invitation,” Rannis corrected.

“There you go!” Wayne said.

“So, Wilma,” Wayne said with a mischievous smile. “Might I be able to interest you in staying for dinner?”

“If it is no imposition,” Wilma said to Rannis.

“My apologies,” she projected a more passive form of telepathy, “for before. When I meet someone new, especially under circumstances such as these, my first reaction is to read them.”

“Which way do you mean?” Gordon muttered before he was sharply nudged by Wayne. Rannis had good intentions when he prepared food. One simply could not taste them.

“Don’t know if Genie or Sharon would let me breathe if they found out you were around and I didn’t make every stride to make you feel at home, hmmm?” Rannis smiled. “You’d be welcome.”

“And my apologies as well,” Rannis returned telepathically. “I’ve been meaning to address the intensity of my scrambler field.”

“Then I accept,” Wilma smiled. “Provided you let me cook.”

“You see,” Rannis smiled, taking out his pipe. “… now you have to be more concerned with being allowed to leave!”