Journal Entries:
Friday, June 23 1995, 12:27 pm Lloyd watched the rest of the group react angrily to Simone's statement, shook his head slightly. Then, "There is no need to involve the Technocracy," he said. The others rumbled their assent. "They are involved whether we like it or not." He turned and caught the eye of Elektra, who nodded to him. Then he went through the open door into the next room. Brother Louis wasted no time. "Do you think she'll be safe back there?" he said. "I'm surprised to find you concerned," Lloyd replied calmly. The Choirster smiled gently. "I'm a firm believer in the idea of Redemption. It allows me to extend her the benefit of the doubt." The Colonel nodded. "She'll be all right as long as Elektra is there. No one will cross her." "Then let us get to the heart of it," Louis said, sitting down on one of the beds. "There is a Heremetic mage in Santa Cruz, the only one we know of. He goes by the name of Alexis Affery." "Will he help us?" Lloyd asked, controlling his eagerness. "More then you might realize. Affery has been to the Verbena Node." Louis allowed that statement to sink in. "So he knows where the demon is." "And more. He claims to know a weakness." This time the Colonel's eagerness was evident. "What is it?!" "He didn't tell me. He did say that the Sun Child has two forms, one fair and powerful, and one hideous and less powerful. He wouldn't say anything more." "Damn! Where is he?" "Actually, that is the other thing I came to tell you. We'd like you to meet with him, formulate a strategy. We'll accept your course if you accept the position of War Leader." "Yes, about that," Lloyd paced to the other side of the room. "Why me? Where are the Arch Mages? Have they no interest in these affairs? I surely can't be the most powerful mage in the region." "Most powerful. . .no. However, where the others have been damaged, you have been canny. Ken told me much about you while you were away, Colonel. About the attacks on your home, your team, and most importantly how you've handled them. Your raid on a Black Fury caern You do know how insanely dangerous that was, don't you? But it was brilliantly handled. Even your return to be met by an assassin, and to turn that into an intelligence coup" Louis shook his head. "You may not be the most powerful, but you are very likely to be the most capable. You have shown all the traits we most need courage, skill, tactical brilliance and compassion, both to the enemy and those innocents in the cross fire." "Do you offer me real power, or a title for the enemy to shoot at?" Louis raised his eyebrows. "I hadn't even considered the latter. No, I offer you what power I have, in good faith. We will support you fully, if you accept. We will encourage the others to do likewise." "And our objectives?" The Colonel locked eyes with Louis. "Let us be very clear on this point, Brother Louis. I will not fight for clouded objectives again." "Remove the Sun Child. Prevent it's further summoning." "Then I accept the authority. The title you may keep. I wish to remain Brother Lloyd." "As you wish," the Choirster nodded. "In that case, there is something else you should know. The Verbena from San Francisco have sent an observer into the area. Her name is Mina Cavalli, and she is in contact with her brethren in the region. She is here to decide whether those Magi will aid Gert, or back the Tribunal against him and the Sun Child." "I see. Where is she now?" Louis looked alarmed. "I told you more for intelligence purposes more than anything else. I do not believe it wise that you meet with her. You will be watched if you do possibly attacked. The wild dogs you have heard reports of are really marauding werewolves on 'Search and Destroy' missions. The Verbena have their Garou allies watching her. They will almost certainly see you, and almost certainly attack you when they do, calling in what reinforcements they may. You can handle one, perhaps. Even you would fall before a pack." "Likely, yes. But still" Louis looked away for a moment. "There is another matter." "Please," Lloyd encouraged, seeing the other's sudden discomfort, "speak freely. It is better there be no misunderstandings between us, and I am nearly impossible to offend." The other mage smiled. "Very well. I don't have the same faith in your diplomatic skills that I have in your tactical ones." Lloyd nodded. "Nor should you. The paths of the warrior and the diplomat are separate. The skills required lie along completely different paths." He sat down on the other bed. "Very well. I shall not seek a meeting. At the same time, I must be open to her. Should she request to see me, I would ask you to grant it. Let her see the Way of this war. Perhaps that will help to convince her." "Perhaps," Louis said, without nodding. Friday, June 23, 1995, 2:13 pm The house dominated the area, particularly in the afternoon sun, which reflected of the picture windows on the second floor from nearly all angles. That and the curtains kept the view inside totally obscured. The house itself was a blue Victorian, customized to fit it's owner's fancy. Lloyd approached it as he approached all things cautiously but confidently, his senses alert for anything strange. The Powers of the area had been modified, he noticed, but then, what else did he expect from the home of a Hermetic? He also paid some attention to the garden, noting the careful color schemes and impeccable trimming. A proud man, this Alexis, with much of himself devoted to appearances. He rang the bell, heard motion almost at once. A young man, slightly shorter than Lloyd with short red hair opened the door, appraised him quickly, and said, "Yes, you're the last!" He stepped back from the door, gesturing the Colonel inside. "Come in and meet the others." The house was warmer than outdoors, and it took only seconds to determine why. A fire raged in the fireplace of the formal sitting room. The Colonel glanced at Affery. 'All the better for coincidence, Alexis?' he thought to himself. He gave only casual attention to the garden. There were more important things to do. The red haired man seated himself in an overstuffed chair next to a small mahogany table. There were cards in the center of it. Lloyd spared them only the slightest attention. If they were important, he would learn of it soon enough. The man spoke. "I am Alexis Affery," he confirmed. He gestured toward his other guests in turn. The first was a lanky young man, perhaps twenty six. "This is Simon," Affery said. His fine sandy hair darkened in spots it was a russet brown. He sat next to the fire, to all appearances relaxed and comfortable, despite the heat. " And this is Timothy." Affery now indicated the average looking man in the tie and trenchcoat that faced the fire. Lloyd examined him closely. The only reason for a trenchcoat in this weather was to conceal weaponry. A body moved differently when it was armed. It placed itself in such a way as to make the weapon accessible, tensed slightly in tacit awareness of deadliness. If he was lucky, he might even be able to determine the nature of the weapon. (Perception+Do, diff 8. 1 success. This obviously does NOT qualify as "lucky.") Lloyd himself wore his gun openly, relying on his speed, luck and skill to conceal it from the eyes of police. His staff swung easily in his hand as he settled into the seat offered by his host. His left foot he brought up to rest on the cushion, bringing his knee close to his chest. The other foot rested on the floor. He wrapped his arms loosely around his left leg, casually positioning the staff so that a flick of his wrist could bring it into play against any of the three, should it be necessary, and relaxed into a state of readiness. There was no tension in his body, no threat of hostile action, merely a man seated in a chair. That he was ready to either evade or attack, as required, should have been completely concealed. (Dexterity+Subterfuge, difficulty 6, 3 successes.) Affery continued. "Why don't you introduce yourself. Then you can all make your acquaintances, and then I'll tell you what you've all come to hear." Lloyd moved with a casual grace that was less smooth than it was careful. He wasted no motion as he glided into the room, glancing first at the fire, then at Affery and Simon. His gaze lingered on Timothy for a moment, his expression unreadable on a face too weather-beaten and cragged to be considered even slightly attractive. He was a lean man, not too tall, dressed in fatigues and a loose fitting gray shirt. A short staff lolled in his left hand, and a Desert Eagle rested comfortably on his right hip, in a holster both old and well maintained. He folded himself into the offered seat, left foot on the cushion in such a way that his knee was up close to his chest. He wrapped his arms loosely around it, easing forward in the seat, his staff leaning on the cushion and stretching out over the floor in front of him, caressed by the fingers of his left hand. His right leg remained on the floor. "Why don't you introduce yourself?" Affery suggested. "Then you can make your acquaintances and then I'll tell you what you all came to hear." "I am Brother Lloyd, of the Akashics," Lloyd replied easily. His voice was a confident blend of whisky baritone and controlled emotion. "I have been asked to win this war, if I can. I hope the information revealed here will be enough. I am honored to meet you." He inclined his head slightly to each man, and awaited their response. "And I am honoured to make your aquaintance as well. As you all know, I am Alexis Affery, Mage of the Hermetic Order. Simon, why don't you introduce yourself to Lloyd here," Alexis suggested, indicating the man seated opposite from him. The man Alexis had called Simon raised an eyebrow, looking a bit apprehensive, and then nodded. "As Mr. Affery said, my name is Simon, and although I'm involved in this whole mess I'm afraid I can't make quite the contribution the rest of you do -- I'm not a warrior or a general, and I don't know much about what we are facing. And I'm not a paid assassin." He smirked good-naturedly at Timothy, pushing his spectacles back up his nose. "I'm just a simple shaman -- some people call us Dreamspeakers -- recently returned to Santa Cruz. But... uh, the Sun Child. It's after me, and my guess is that it would not be in your best interests, or mine, to let it have me." He glanced over at Alexis, unsure whether to continue or stay silent. "Thank-you, Simon. I'm sure that will be fine. More will become clearer when I tell you all what I know. But, first," Alexis nodded towards Tim, "I think my guardian should introduce himself so that we all know each other. And then, " Alexis looked at Lloyd again - I got the impression that you have an attendant entourage. You might want to tell us a little about them so we know who exactly is friend and who is an enemy." "Paid?" Tim said sounding some what surprised. "You mean I'm getting paid for this gig? I gots to have me a talk with my agent. She never gives me all the details of a job." Tim leaned towards Simon, "Hey, if the Sun Child is after you, I guess you're the one I'm suppose to protect. You would happen to know which one," Tim indicate Alex and Lloyd, "of these two I'm suppose to assassinate. Would you?" Simon glanced sidelong at Tim, not looking particularly amused. "If you really feel the need to kill somebody, how about that Gert guy? Or any of those witches, really..." "Your side asked me to play bodyguard, not cannon fodder. I believe that role is being played by Lloyd here," Tim said. Lloyd smiled a grim smile. "A role I am accustomed to." He gave Timothy a long look. "And one I excel at, as well. Given the circumstances, I would have it no other way." He glanced at Simon, then back at the man in the trenchcoat. "We all have our paths, each as important as the other. I follow mine, with no regrets." He sighed, perhaps regretfully, meeting Alexis' gaze. "But time is not our ally. To the point, Mr. Affery." "Gentlemen, as Mister Lloyd says, to the point. Let me summarize what has happened. Some of this may or may not be already known to some of you. About four years ago, werewolf shamans in the East Bay Area, in the area of Oakland, summoned a very powerful fire spirit to their aid. They were unable to control the spirit and it went wild, destroying many of those who had summoned it and as well, scorching a good part of the hills above Oakland and Berkeley. Having failed disastrously, most werewolves abandoned the idea of using this ancient spirit to fight their enemies. Only a few young apprentice shamans continued to even toy with the idea of trying to make use of it once more, having been seduced by the vision of so much power. They were excited at even the thought of being able to rein it in." "What the lycanthropes lacked - or more to the point - what the wiser shamans were unwilling to ever consider using to control the spirit was a powerful ingredient - life's blood. However, there exists a group of magi, one of our sister traditions in fact, to whom the use of blood in ritual is second nature. These are of course the Verbena. But since magi and werewolves rarely mix - and then - seldom with anything but animosity, one would think that the likelihood of forging such an alliance to be unlikely. After all, both magi and werewolves compete for the same sources of power which both desire greatly - nodes, or cairns as the werewolves call them. However, despite this, there DID already exist a cooperative alliance between both Verbena and werewolves in an area not too far distant from Oakland; that being here in the Santa Cruz Mountains. About ninety years ago, the werewolves, gave shelter to a group of Verbena who were fleeing persecution from the Santa Cruz Celestial Chorus. Sheltered by the werewolves, they cultivated a node of their own creation and gave help to the werewolf tribes in keeping their common enemies - the Wyrm and the Technocracy at bay. However, recently, because of attacks by the magi rabble who call themselves Hollow Ones, many werewolf nodes were destroyed and the werewolves were unable to maintain their vigil in the mountains, being forced to defend themselves from this new threat. Inroads were made and at one point, the Technocracy came very close to destroying the Verbena's sacred oak grove, their seat of power." "At this point, it begins to look very dark indeed for both the Verbena and the werewolves. They are being assaulted from two fronts, and no one offers to aid them - except a group of werewolves who arrive from Oakland with knowledge of an ancient ritual to summon a very powerful forgotten spirit - one that will make them powerful again, and if controlled can actually be used to bring destruction on those who would seek to destroy them. Being desperate and fearing immanent destruction by the Technocracy, the Verbena agreed to add their own knowledge of blood ritual to the werewolf cause; and they take on the task of securing enough blood to both sustain and keep in control this 'Sunchild.' It is they who perform the rituals while the desperate werewolves capture both Hollow Ones and those of the Technocracy to feed it. The Santa Cruz werewolves also agree to protect the Verbena and the embryonic spirit until it has been given enough lives to grow powerful enough to protect itself and later aid them." "This spirit, which they called the Sunchild, is very ancient. It was at one point, worshipped as a god in ancient times by an extinct people living in what is now the area between the Ukraine and the Turkic republics, like Kazakistan. These people, who had a strong tendency towards lycanthropy in their bloodlines, grew very powerful - but the more power they collected, the more blood their 'god' required to aid them. As long as they fed the Sunchild, it gave them power over their enemies. But there came a time where they could not satisfy the Sunchild, so great had its hunger grown. The Sunchild took all of them instead and after it had consumed every life of every nearly every man, woman, child, and even the beasts and plants of the region, it was finally banished back to the void, having nothing to feed it and thus give it the power to remain in our world. However, this was not before it laid waste to an entire region and turned a vast portion of the earth into a barren salt desert that in time became an inland sea. The rituals for summoning this entity were known among a few select shamans, who survived and passed their knowledge among their werewolf descendants. Remembering the lesson of what had happened before, these descendents never availed themselves of the spirit's power - fearing the cost. However, in time the knowledge of these rituals fell into less guarded, younger circles. Arrogance and desperation combined to convince some that control of the Sunchild was possible. Rather than be frightened by their failure in Oakland, these werewolves were captivated by the raw power capable in the spirit. And wanting itself to come back, the Sunchild tried to convince them in turn that the destruction caused by it was not its own fault, but rather a failure by them to give it its proper ritual and sustenance, which is partly true. It promised them great power if they could only bring it back from the void. And thus far, it has kept its promise. The werewolves who serve it have unparalleled rage at their command, which can fuel them to stupendous feats of violence and power. For their parts, the Verbena are totally freed from the effects of Paradox and can make use of even the most vulgar of magicks to wipe the earth free of their enemies. And they have - with a vengeance. However, the Verbena now count among their enemies those who they used to call friends; and we can include ourselves in that number. The werewolves, needing little reason to hate us, for except for the Verbena, they see all magi as the same - are more than willing to aid the Verbena in hunting us down." Alexis paused to let all of this sink in before continuing. "Wine anyone?" After he had poured himself and anyone else some Chardonnay, he continued. "Now, let me tell you something not even the Verbena and their lycanthrope allies know. The Sunchild is not necessarily evil in its own moralistic sense. In reality, it is above such concepts as good and evil. What it really is is a total aspect of hunger and consumption of life - which is turns into destructive power which it channels to those who serve it by gleaning it more and more lifeforce - souls and blood. This of course, IS EVIL, by 'our' standards. It really always has been. There is something about the Sunchild that, by our understanding, is incredibly evil. Because of this, the Sunchild exists and has always existed in TWO forms. It has always been two entities that are part of the same whole. Often, these who halves of itself were thought to be in fact different beings, when they were actually part of the same dual spirit. In ancient text, there is spoken with great terror a demon who went by many names, among them, Resheph, which is Hebrew for the destroyer. Resheph, the corrupter and the possessor is the evil embodiment of the Sunchild. They are one and the same and one cannot exist in this world without the other. For all its beauty and divine aspect, the Sunchild must have a channel, a seeming for its evil acts and perverse hungers - and that embodiment is Resheph. In the distant past, those that knew the Sunchild's true nature as a destroyer, named it Resheph. But, others, seeing the putrid evil of Resheph and the godly beauty of the Sunchild failed to conceive of them as one being. Thus, Resheph, which is Hebrew for the destroyer, came to mean the weaker, foul seeming aspect of the wondrous, worshipful, Sunchild. Any destructive capability and use of vast power remained in the aspect of the Sunchild. Resheph, though it is vile, and capable of wreaking great harm on select individuals, cannot wield vast power in that guise. Do not mistake me, it is very dangerous and deadly to anyone of us; but it is nothing compared to the Sunchild at the height of its power. Also, whereas the Sunchild is total energy, and spirit, Resheph must take on mortal form - and is thus VERY vulnerable. It must possess a physical body and much of its ability to exist is dependant on the strength of the being it inhabits." "Now remember, to exist in the world, no matter how much blood and souls are fed it, the Sunchild must also exist as Resheph. One cannot be in this reality without the other being here too." "You ask me how I know this? Because I have SEEN BOTH! I have seen the Sunchild and I know where the Verbena keep their hidden sacred grove where the Sunchild rests. And I have seen the foul corruption of Resheph. Currently, it possesses the body of some poor homeless soul - one weak in power and thus unable to contain its corruption for long. Even now, Resheph's host is decaying and it will soon have to move to another - a more powerful host - and one which can sustain it and allow it more freedom as well as power." Having said this, Alexis gave a quite pointed look at Simon. "And it has already chosen this host," Alexis said. Simon had been staring morosely at his hands for the entire speech. At Alexis' last words, he shuddered and turned away, staring at the wall, his face ashen pale and his expression bleak. "What happens if it's current host dies before it can possess another body?" Timothy asked. "I can't be certain," Alexis admitted, "but I believe that Resheph - and hence the Sunchild - are banished back into the formless void, once again exiled from our reality." "This brings us to our other questions. What are the capabilities of this incarnation? How can it be found? What must it do to make a successful transfer?" Lloyd met Simon's eye, his expression both sympathetic and resolute. "And what are 'we' willing to do to prevent it?" "No." Simon's voice was quiet and flat. "It... it might be safer, perhaps, if we -" He swallowed, blinked, and continued, "If you let it take me, trick it into taking me, and kill me before it gets a chance to do anything. We can't waste time looking for it any more... too many have died already, and I - I am not important. And that way, you could... control the situation better, you could -" Simon abruptly fell silent again, a hopeless look on his face. Lloyd spoke firmly, allowing no room for argument. "No! Too dangerous. We can't afford to give Resheph what it wants, because we don't know why it wants you. What if it seeks your ability to work the True Magick to make itself stronger?" His tone changed, becoming kinder and respectful. "Do not belittle yourself so harshly, Simon. It's not your place to judge your importance. Let history and your peers do that. You have enough to do being a man. From where I sit, you are one hell of a good one, and I would hate to not have the chance to get to know you. I'll do everything I can to give myself that chance. I expect you to as well. Clear?" Simon shot Lloyd a grim look, rising from his seat. He began to pace slowly around the room. "Mr. Affery is optimistic, but you may not have very long to make plans. Besides, you could lay a - lay a trap, with spiritual wardings, and im-imprison me, keep me from - from -" Realizing he was beginning to stammer, Simon fell back into his seat, looking exhausted. "I - I'm sorry. I am not thinking very clearly at the moment, I'm afraid." He ran a hand through his reddish bangs. "You are right, my strategy is foolish, even if it would let me play the role of martyr." Simon's mouth curved into a sarcastic grin. "But what are we to do, before this war consumes magi and Garou alike? Before the fae folk destroy themselves completely?" "Alex, do you have a description of this homeless person?" Tim asked as he reached for the wine. "And where we can find him?" Alex regarded a sunflower, one of many found in a vase on his mantle. Having plucked this one flower, he returned to his chair and placed it on the table. "It wasn't his appearance as much as his smell that struck me," Alexis admitted. "It smelled nothing more than that of death itself. I encountered a taxicab driver who'd met Resheph later. From his description it seems that Resheph's host has entered a state of putridity that would preclude it from being able to travel openly." Alexis glanced at Simon.' "But I would think that it would be nearby. It's not living in the state we consider life. Resheph's host is being held to any form of cohesiveness by sheer force of evil will and power. It may not be as powerful as the Sunchild, but again I warn you not to underestimate it. Also, the Sunchild can and will aid it's 'Resheph' aspect if need be. That's why any plan we make must take into account any reaction by the Sunchild and its lupine and Verbena thralls." Simon nodded in agreement. "The one who warned me about the Sun Child also told me that Resheph would probably stay somewhere nearby, watching me, and... waiting." "You don't happen to know how much longer they are planning to wait do you?" Tim asked. Lloyd sat back. "And Resheph's capabilities? What can it do? What resources can it call upon? This is the question we must answer above all." Alexis waited for a while; then noticing that all other eyes were turned to him, he said, "I don't know. I do know that it is weaker, and that hints are given as to some sort of power of corruption - whatever that means - but as to the specifics, I just don't know." He stopped to pour himself another glass of wine. "I've been thinking along the lines of something according to what Simon here said. We should not carry it all the way towards killing him, mind you; but threatening to kill him - doing him some small harm might flush Resheph out into the open. The problems is, how do we keep the Sunchild and it's minions off our backs as well? I would suggest a diversion as I do know the location of the Verbena node, but anyone sent on that mission would be sent to certain death - as recent events have all to well testified. Any thoughts on this, gentlemen? After all, two of you are warriors and I'm proposing that the other stand in as bait." "I tried a frontal assault on one of those nodes last time I was in town. I died then and I doubt that I would fare any better this time around. We could crash a plane full of fuel into the node, that would flush them out. Do you have a topo map of the area that shows the location of the node?" Tim asked Alexis. "That may help us in planning the suicide mission. And the location of the werewolf nodes too?" Tim stood and started to pace as he continued, "But perhaps we are going about this all wrong. What do we know about the Verbs and the werewolves? I know they can use funky magic that the three of you can't touch, but that's not want I need to know. What I need to know is: How many of them are there? What are there names? What do the look like? Where do they live? Where do they hang out? Basically a file on each of the enemy, you know, they type the paid killers always get in the movies. I've meet a few of them. I've met Beth, so I know what she looks like, but that's all on her. There's Colleen, who runs a coffee shop up on Highway 9 in Brookdale. And I've seen three of Beth's lapdogs around. Can any of you fill in anything else on the Verbs or the wolves?" Tim stared out the window into he garden as he waited for someone to reply. Lloyd shifted position slightly, turning to face the man in the trenchcoat. "The Werewolves are divided into two camps; those who support the Verbena, and those who do not wish total war among their kind. I have several contacts among the latter group, who have provided me with a great deal of useful information, but no overt combat assistance. I also paid a visit to one of the Black Fury nodes in the region. While I was unable to weaken them at all, I do have some very useful intelligence on that area and its defenses, as well as some of the notable leaders. However, I am not sure a frontal assault there would be useful. Those defenses are no doubt strengthened since my last visit, and it is not a central location. "The Verbena are a different story. All in this region are apparently united behind Gert. I have several names and locations, supplied by my contacts, but have lacked the time to move on them. "Why? What do you have in mind?" "No Lloyd, there are three groups of Verbena and Werewolves." Tim said as he turned away from the window. "Those that support your cause, those that support the Sunchild, and the fence sitters. You asked why, I want to know everything. The first rule of war is: Know your enemy. The second rule is: Know yourself. Or have you forgotten those rules General?" Alexis turned to Timothy, deflecting conversation away from Tim's jibe at Lloyd. "I'm afraid I don't have topographical maps of the area you've requested. We could get them from Bowman & Williams downtown, as they keep a stock of maps of the area. There's always the possibility that the maps have been doctored in some way. As that area is not explored in detail, I'm positive, and since the Verbena and lupines do not like to advertise the presence of their secret nodes - I don't know that such information is readily forthcoming. And certainly I have have not been keeping much in the way of social contacts with the local Verbena. Any of you" Alexis' eyes preceded the distraction of a white bird landing on his garden porch. "If you'll excuse me," he said to the assembly. He went outside and could be seen taking a tube from the dove, reading a scrolled bit of paper while stroking the bird's chest with one finger. (Perception + Awareness = 3/5/7) All present observed a startled look on Alexis' face. Alexis glanced at the three of them and then crumpled up the paper, putting it in his pocket. When he withdrew his hand, he conveniently produced a packet of birdseed, which he sprinkled on the ground for the dove to peck at. "Sorry about the interruption," he said while coming back inside. Before anyone could ask about the contents of the note, he announced, "That was from someone named Raef, an acolyte of the Choirsters. He says that our friend," Alexis pointed at Timothy, "is an imposter. He says that the real 'Christophe,' whoever that is, is at the Temple right now and that this man is probably a spy." Alexis looked at Timothy. "You've impressed me as being someone very 'new' to this hidden world of ours. Something tells me you've never faced a magus in combat. For your own safety, I'm going to to ask that you do not make ANY sudden movements. Do you have something to say to us?" Simon's shoulders tensed as Alexis spoke. He had been gazing moodily out the window, but now his head swung towards Timothy, his pale blue eyes examining the man with an unflinching stare. Adjusting his position in his seat, Simon reached out and picked up a black cotton jacket slung over one of the chair's arms. "Hmpf," Tim snorted, breaking off a staring contest with Simon. "A spy is it?" Tim said as he faced Alexis once more, "When I first arrived here you called me the guardian; then Simon over there called me a paid assassin and now you're calling me a spy. Why don't the three of you put your minds together and decide on my job description. I would say to call Raef and get him in on your conversation. But we both know how much he loves to chat on the phone. In the meantime, I'm going to stand here and finish this here grape juice," Tim said as he turned back to the window. With Alexis' revelation and Timothy's reply, the room became deathly quiet. No one made a sound. Even the fire seemed still and quiet. "Well, we do have a predicament. Gentlemen, any suggestions?" Alexis asked the other two, while still keeping an eye on Tim. Lloyd remained seated, apparently still perfectly at ease. Perhaps his eyes became harder. Perhaps his expression shifted to a more probing one. It was hard to tell in the shifting firelight. His fingers still brushed his staff lightly. "Know your enemy," he said thoughtfully. "Good advice. Who do 'you' know?" He turned just enough to direct a question toward Alexis, his eyes never leaving the man by the window. "How well do you know Raef, and how secure are your communications?" "I don't know him well. Choirsters and Hermetics never mixed well in this town and I've inherited the old animosity. Our's is just a marriage of convenience. As for how secure our communications are, I would say via pigeon, moderately so; that it until the Verbena manage to bring in trained hawks or shoot one of the birds down without attracting too much attention - not a hard feat in itself. I think this last message was one of desperation since Raef was alarmed to learn that the man he'd sent her wasn't the one he thought he had." Simon's eyebrow raised slightly as he continued to stare at Timothy. Leaning forward again, he addressed the subject of his gaze. "Perhaps you should tell us the whole story, Mr... well, I'm not entirely sure what to call you anymore. Is it Christophe, or Timothy James, or something else?" "Mister will be fine for now," Tim said as he turned to face Simon once more. "Raef asked me to help eliminate the Sun Child. I said I would and so he sent me here. Now do you boys want my help or not?" "So, " Alexis said, turning once more to Timothy. "Just who is this Christophe and who are you then? Raef alluded to the fact that you might be a Verbena spy or assassin. Is that it? Are you their vehicle to eliminate me or to learn of our plans?" There was the sound of the front door bell. It sounded before Timothy had a chance to answer the questions. Alexis gave everyone a quick glance and then said, "Hopefully that is the 'real', Christophe. Raef said that he would be arriving soon. If you will excuse me." Alexis departed and returned with another man. He was shorter and his hair a bit lighter than Timothy's. His eyes might also have been a bit more hazelish but all in all, he was a remarkable match for the Timothy and it was not hard to see why anyone would not mistake them for each other. Rather than addressing any of them, the man turned to Timothy, saying, "I am Christophe Auxier, once of the Knights Templar, Paris Chapter. And with you, sir, I believe I have some business. I have been told you have been usurping my name around town. Would you care to discuss this matter elsewhere - away from holy ground?" Simon blinked at the newcomer, then looked back at Timothy, unable to repress a faint smirk. "Are you sure you don't want to tell us the whole story? I'm sure it's quite... interesting, and we'd all love to hear it." Ignoring Simon, Tim answered the newcomer. "Not in particular," Tim said as he returned to the sofa. "But I don't think you're the type to let this go." He reached down and picked up the gym bag next to Lloyd and started towards the garden door. "Alexis, mind if we use your garden? I don't know about him," Tim said indicating the new arrival, "but don't intend to do any pruning." "You joining me Sir Knight?" Tim said as he left the room. Simon got to his feet, looking a trifle alarmed, his gaze shifting from the newcomer to the rapidly departing Tim and back again. "Could someone perhaps explain what's going on here?" "At least one of us will be back shortly to enlighten you," Timothy said as he walked out the garden door. Christophe looked at Tim, then at Alexis and the others. "There will be a time for that later. I see no reason for us to trouble these kind people. You may leave if I have your word that you will not come here again. I shall find you in my own good time. And do not call me knight. Though I belonged to the order of knights, I was only a squire, but a good one - as you shall no doubt see." Tim stopped dead in his tracks on the patio. He sighed as he turned to face the others. "I'm not leaving unless Raef comes here," he indicated the spot where he was standing, "and tells me himself that my assistance is no longer needed nor wanted." Christophe nodded, turning to Alexis. "With your permission then, monsieur?" He nodded toward the garden. "I'm afraid I must." Alexis shook his head. "I want no blood spilled on my property. Can either of you tell me what is going on here?" It was new Christophe who answered first. "This matter is of a private nature, unique to beings such as myself and this 'person.' Some time ago, I came to this area to help the Chorus out with some 'problems.'" Alexis' face darkened. "I think I heard of you. You butchered members of my order and," he looked at Lloyd, "those of the Akashics as well. The Dreamspeakers fled to the forests rather than fight you." Christophe smiled. "Yes, well, that is in the past. It was nothing personal, I assure you. I work for pay and the Chorus paid me well. Now, ironically, they pay Christophe to protect - you. However, another one, claiming to be me, has preceded me here. I heard rumors and came right away. I must agree that there is a resemblance - but I assure you it is only a superficial one - and a short lived one; that I promise you." Alexis turned to Simon and Lloyd. "Well, I'm at a loss. I would not see innocent blood shed, though. I am not certain that either of these men need be an enemy of ours - but in the current climate, I can't be sure. I would just as soon dispense with either of them - but then our enemies, if one of them is a spy, would certainly know our plans. Do either of you have a suggestion?" Putting his hands behind his back, Simon regarded the two Christophes. "I, for one, would like to hear the rest of the story." He glanced at Lloyd, then directed a rather pointed gaze towards the man who was also called Timothy James. "And as I mentioned before, there seems to be one person here whose chapter is missing." An awkward silence fell over the room. Everyone seemed unsure of what to do or say. Finally, it was Alexis who spoke up, breaking the silence. Turning to the two Christophes, he said, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you both to leave." Turning to Timothy, he added, "I'm not sure who you are; but I don't get the impression that you are my enemy, despite what Raef has said. The cards also confirm this." Turning to second Christophe, Alexis remarked, "And you - I know your type well. You're an efficient killer - but one who kills for gold. Oh yes, I know - not literal gold. And I'm sure that you would be an efficient guard for me but given your past deeds against the fellows of my order - one whom I'd just as soon do without. However, in the current climate - we have to take what help we can. Ours is a fight for our very existence. But know sir, that if it comes to such, my association with you shall end the moment it becomes convenient." Christophe nodded. "Of course, sir. I wish you to know however that I bear you no ill will. Had your forbears had sufficient 'gold' as you say, I would not have taken arms against them but would have been as much a plague to the Chorus. Raef knows this as does his superior; and she is willing to make use of me, knowing my talents. It is strictly a matter of business with me." Alexis shuddered but didn't reply to this last directly. "Alright then. I will dispense with you both. Neither of you are welcome here until this matter between you is resolved. Whoever returns - and I think it fair to surmise only one - should come back to this house. I will be gone but the door will be open. Grandfather Salamander will then direct you where to find me. May your fates bring you what you each deserve." Both men hesitated to leave so Alexis pointed out, "Gentlemen, you are in the seat of my power. I am quite capable of dealing with you both here. I suggest you leave. If I were as tactically mercenary as you, monsieur," Alexis nodded to the second Christophe, "I would eliminate you both rather than take any chance that either of you is working for the enemy." Alexis indicated the hallway with his arm and after a calculating exchange of glances, both Christophes moved back to the front doorway. Alexis escorted them out. When he returned, he said to Simon and Lloyd, "It is time we should be leaving. Though I don't suspect either of our martial friends of working for the enemy, we cannot take the chance of making such an assumption. I will have friends of mine keep an eye on them both. Time will tell if they are enemies or not. Besides, I don't know what great ill lies between them both - but I have no wish to be in between until it is resolved. Let us each go our own way. I must go into hiding. I think the plan should be this. Our allies must mount an attack on the Verbena and the garou. Whatever the cost, the Sunchild must be forced to aid his allies - even if he knows our plan. Then, we together will attack Resheph and if we can defeat it - thus banish both incarnations back to the void where they came from." "How?" Lloyd began to ask. "I know," Simon volunteered. "By using me as bait." Alexis nodded. "You yourself know that Resheph will do anything to protect you. If we threaten your person, it will intervene on your behalf. If we time it right - neither the Sunchild, the Verbena nor werewolves can aid it. It will be our best and only chance. If you are agreed, then be at the Surfer Statue on West Cliff Drive, the one by the lighthouse, on July 27th at eleven p.m." Both nodded and left, leaving Alexis free to pack up. Outside, each man was taking his leave of the other when Simon, perhaps sensing the terrible yet intimate presence of that other within him, happened to glance over to a tree. It was the smell that Lloyd noticed first, pungent and reeking of death. In the tree in Affery's front yard, a homeless wreck of what once was a man stood gazing down at them both. It's mouth had long since corrupted away, and it stood without a lower jaw, full of bile and putrescence, gazing at them both. Unable to speak, it simply pointed at Simon and then at itself. Then it quivered, as if laughing. Lloyd darted back inside to warn Alexis of his danger but found the house already empty. Somehow, Affery had slipped past them all. He came back outside. "Affery's gone," he told Simon. "You go to," Simon told Lloyd. "It won't follow you." Lloyd didn't even want to ask why Simon knew this. He took it as a terrible truth. "Good luck," he said to Simon. The walk to the others was swift and careful. Affery may have been under surveillance, and the Colonel was not taking any chances of that sticking to him. He took shortcuts through buildings, doubled back on himself twice, used every trick he remembered, all the time keeping his mystick senses open, feeling for senses laid on him, for minds nearby that were attentive and focused on one goal. He even scanned his Pattern and flows through it for any signs of a "tag." There was no surveillance he could detect, and he felt sure he had been thorough. There was much to do. On returning to the others, Lloyd reached into his pocket to grab his key. He was surprised, but not startled to find a map there. It marked a specific spot in the Santa Cruz Mountains. Affery had lied when he said he didn't have any topographical maps, Lloyd thought. He gazed down at the map. Affery was covering his bases. In case he were killed or captured, at least one other now knew the location of the Verbena node - and the Sunchild. July 4, Night A riot of color, a cacophony of sound, a whirlwind of emotion battered Lloyd's senses. He moved through the crowd carefully, skirting the fringes whenever possible, sliding past the massed bodies with a sidling grace when not. Few people noticed him. The ones that did paid scant attention to the dark haired man in loose fatigues who passed them with but a polite nod. There were more important things to focus on. Hell, there was a party going on! He'd come out against the others advice. He was needed, they said. Strategies had to be discussed, plans clarified. His person was too important to risk now. The Colonel had agreed with them, and gone anyway. Only Ken had asked him why. "I want to see what's at stake," he'd replied. "I need to be reminded what I'm fighting for." He'd turned to the window. "I can't see that from here. It's out there, among the Sleepers, so that is where I must be." The Orphan nodded. "Just be careful." The Colonel smiled grimly. "Always." He'd taken his staff in his hand and departed. So here he was, amid the managed chaos of the celebration, filtering the world through his senses. A wave of passion here, an explosion of color there, a swirl of popcorn and beer passing his nose, to be replaced with a whiff of woman's perfume, the sounds of people laughing, shouting enthusiasm to the pyrotechnics crew, who couldn't have heard them if they'd wanted to. Happiness, sadness, pain and pleasure, his own and other people's circulating around him driven by the currents of the Universal Flow. He seized that flow, rode it like a wave to his center, where he distilled it into purpose. The War was just. It was necessary. There was too much at stake here to feel qualms of doubt or sadness. There was no room for pain or memories anymore, no time for uncertainty. There was only the Cause, and the serene certainty that all would be decided soon. He moved away from the Boardwalk, back to the others, pausing only once to look back at the crowd. There was work to be done. Wednesday, July 5th, 1995 5:49 a.m. Having been signalled by Brother Louis, Lloyd got up early and bought a paper at a nearby newsstand. A note from Simon, forwarded by Louis, was inside the classified sections. 'Colonel Davies -- this is Simon, Simon Keatings. There are a couple things I thought you should know. First off, I met an individual who seems to be sympathetic to our cause and says he would be willing to help us out when the time comes. I don't want to get too specific without talking to you in person, but his name is Igor and he asked that you try and contact him through Klub Kulture, that punk hangout on Front Street. He did say, however, that the place is being watched by... unfriendly people, and advised caution.' 'The other thing is that last night I saw the man we met last week, the one who couldn't decide whether his name is Timothy or Christophe. You remember him? Well, there was some confusion as to who he was working for, but last night he seemed to be talking rather amiably with one of the, ah, V group. You know who I mean. I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this sort of thing. If you need more information, you know how to contact me.' This information was disturbing. It looked after all as if Timothy and-or Christophe was in fact working with the enemy after all. If that was true, the enemy knew some important information - like who Alexis and Simon were. Lloyd memorized the note and then, upon returning to his room, destroyed it, flushing even the ashes down the toilet. 'Can't be too careful', he thought. Wednesday, July 5, 9:30 PM The days that followed would have been hectic for any other man, but the Colonel moved through them the way he moved through everything else, smoothly and with an air of competent calm. He had spent the time organizing his forces, establishing contact with as many of the mages theoretically under his command as he could. He gave himself a rough picture of their strengths and weaknesses, an indication of their abilities. He spent several days conferencing with Brother Lewis and the mages of the Chorus, and more than a few with his own Brothers. It was the latter who did most of his legwork for him, keeping in touch through their mental disciplines. They were not his lieutenants, however. That duty was given to those among each Tradition who were best qualified. They knew their people better then Lloyd did, better then the Akashics could. It made sense both practically and politically. He listened to their suggestions, and those that had merit were put into effect. He praised their efforts, and made their accomplishments known to the rest. {At this point, Lloyd is trying to make contact with ALL of the Mages. Since I am painfully aware that I am a little behind most people in the Timestream, we can just say it takes a while for me to get in touch with some of them. This will keep Paradox from rearing it's ugly head. Lloyd will make a special effort to connect with Simon and Igor, face to face. He is very interested in acquiring the assistance of the Euthanatos. We can let that happen as it becomes possible also. I don't want to disrupt too much. Rather than drag us all into Dialog and bog things down a lot, I will send a summary of what Lloyd means to tell them and a few suggestions as to his reactions to the permutations I can predict. This will be a separate mailing. This one's going to be long enough as it is.} The Hollows Ones he handled himself. Ken put him in touch with them early on, and the Colonel was quick to arrange a meeting with Mike. So it was that he found himself sitting in the wreckage of Klub Kulture on this Wednesday sipping water from a glass that would have benefitted far more from being washed by it rather than holding it. Mike's reaction had been predictable. "Are you NUTS?" he'd shouted. "Are you absolutely out of your fucking mind? We barely got out the last fight at all, let alone intact! I lost half my friends to that ... thing, and you want us to try to take it AGAIN? Do I LOOK like a moron to you?" "No," Lloyd had answered. "You look like a man in need of help." "Yeah, like the rest of the Traditions will back us! Tell me another one, big man! All you guys want is for us to take the front lines and conveniently kill ourselves off for you! Well it ain't gonna happen!" "You're right." Lloyd asserted. "It won't. I won't let it." That got Mike's attention. "What?" "I don't want you dead, Mike. Casualties are useless. I want your help, and I want it enough to give you something that you and the Hollow Ones need more than anything else." "And what might that be?" Mike had sneered. "Respect." The word was spoken with quiet power. "Yeah, right! What do we need your respect for?" "Because a man can't bargain with someone he doesn't respect. You know that as well as I do. Right now the only reason you aren't targeted by everybody with time on their hands is because there's a bigger nasty than you on the loose. Your raids on the other's Nodes, on the Werewolf Caerns, have polarized this whole region against you. Once the Sun Child is gone, assuming we can win this war, you're going to be back in the crosshairs again. The only difference is you're likely to be sharing it with the Verbena." He caught Mike's eye, let him see the truth in his words. "If you fight with us, if you take the same chances the others are taking, do as you're asked and do it well, I will do everything I can to see you get the respect you will deserve. With that respect, you should be able to ask for much, perhaps even a Node." He paused a moment, letting the impact of that statement sink in. "I can't promise you that. I can promise my support if that's what you ask for. But only if you fight." Mike surged forward, rage-reddened face held inches from Lloyd's own. "Hey, we've FOUGHT, asshole!" he shouted. "We've been out there gettin' KILLED while you did diddly over SQUAT!! Where the hell were you, Big Man!? Hiding in the bushes, waitin' for us to die and solve all your problems?! Don't give me this cooperation earns respect BULLSHIT!! I came home from the last fight wearing a friend of mines GUTS, while you've been sitting on your military ass!! Where were you, huh? Where's the cooperation you give us to get OUR respect!!?" It happened so quickly Mike was never certain how he fell. One second he was standing, rod rigid and steel tense, giving that sanctimonious asshole a piece of his mind, the next he was on the ground, left arm trapped under him, right held in place by the Colonel's knee. Lloyd's left hand was wrapped in the tattered shirt front the Hollow was wearing, his right coked back even with his shoulder, palm out, fingers tense. The Colonel's voice was deadly quiet. "Don't you dare lecture me about the horrors of war, you snotnosed little punk!" he grated. "I wrap them around myself at night to keep warm! As for your fighting, what has it gotten you besides dead?! You've been wasting your strength, wasting LIVES fighting something you don't understand and aren't strong enough to stop on your own! You've been targeted by the Verbena and the Sun Child, so what do you do!? You go out and show them where you are so they can kill you faster! Is that sound tactics, or is that stupid?! You tell me." He gazed down into Mike's eye's, face taut, eyes cold. "TELL ME!" he thundered. The two men lay poised that way for long seconds. Mike saw something unholy burn in the eyes of the Colonel, a rage and pain he had never seen before. For a terrifying instant, he thought he was dead. He thought he'd pushed this man too far, and that the shard of steel tense flesh at the end of the Colonel's right arm was going to spill his brains all over the floor. He wondered idly if he'd feel anything. (Mechanical note: This is Lloyd's Spirit Magnet flaw coming to the fore.) Then Lloyd was gone as suddenly as he'd gotten there in the first place. Mike felt himself lifted up, placed back on his feet. The man was next to him, relaxed again, his anger pushed aside. Mike thought he caught a glimpse of something in the Colonel's expression, something haunted and tired, but it passed almost instantly. "You're right," he said. "We weren't there. We didn't fight next to you. If we had the only difference we would have made is a higher body count when it was over." He gestured Mike to his seat, reclaimed his own. When the Hollow didn't sit down, he merely looked up at him. "We can stop it now, Mike. We know it's weakness. That's what I've been doing." He smiled then, a grim, dark smile. "We can win this time." Mike was silent for a time, weighing what he had heard against what he knew about the man before him. He sat down, met the Colonel's eye squarely. "Tell me," he said. Thursday, July 6th, 1995 3:17 p.m. Lloyd finished writing his messages to the two Magi that he'd not yet included in his plans. Simon was somewhere on the University campus, trying to maintain a semblance of a normal life until called upon. By a perverse irony - he was the safest of them all - his soul being destined to carry the future god of the universe - Resheph. The Euthanatos, Igor Stepanoivch, it seemed, had taken initiative into his own hands and had taken a cadre of Hollows into the Choirsters sanctuary - days before Lloyd's meeting with Mike. The cohesion of the Hollows had obviously already begun to show severe signs of breaking. Those that had been willing to fight had followed Igor. Others, who were unwilling to fight but willing to defend their 'turf.', had stayed at the Klub while the rest disappeared altogether. Mike had rallied what he could. It had been an impressive bit of leadership on his part. Lloyd read his notes. 'To All Followers of Ascension: The Sun Child is a threat we cannot ignore, nor is it one we can overcome individually. Only as a group can we hope to stop this entity from further wanton destruction. I urge you, meet with me at the Cloisters of the Celestial Chorus. I have a plan that, if successful, will rid this world of the Sun Child. Time is short. The enemy grows stronger with each passing day. We have all taken losses, all felt the terrors of this war. I ask you, help me put an end to it. Let us lose no more to this otherworldly aberration.' 'Brother Lloyd, Akashic' Below this, written in a beautiful jade green calligraphy, was written the following: 'To those of the Traditions: Brother Lloyd Davies has been assigned as War Leader by we of the Celestial Chorus. The Dreamspeakers, Hermetics, and those calling themselves, Hollow Ones, have also agreed to this appointment. Please heed his word and follow his directives as we shall. Only united can we hope to prevail and guard the paths of Ascension - so dear to us all.' 'Brother Louis, Celestial Chorus' 'To Simon, I have met this man, Igor. He could indeed be a useful ally, if my judgment of him is correct.' Be strong. I have a plan. It needs only that you remain yourself long enough to bring it to fruition. I will do all I can to bring you through this with your soul intact. You have my word. I have faith in you, Simon. Don't lose heart. My hand will cover you soon. Anyone who speaks to you of the Brother's Eye can be trusted.' 'Brother Lloyd' 'To Igor Stepanovich, I remember your presence at the Council meeting. You struck me as a man of deliberation and purpose. I am not often wrong in these judgements, and hope that I am not now. It is purpose we need now more than anything else. I am dedicated to the removal of the Sun Child from this reality. I have the pledged assistance of many mages, including those of the Celestial Chorus. While I realize bad blood exists between you and that Tradition, let me assure you that it does not flow to me. I will see to it that during this crisis it does not flow to you as well. We are in a battle we must fight together if we hope to win. I ask for your help and cooperation in the days to come.I hope I may count on you. The safety of Simon is of the utmost importance to our ultimate goal. Do what you can to insure it. If this is impossible, then please contact me, and I will speed my preparations. I will take precautions to this end, but it may take time for my arrangements to be completed. Anyone who speaks of the Brother's Eye speaks for me.' 'Brother Lloyd, Akashic' Satisfied with what he'd written, Lloyd handed the notes to Suzy (Sazuko) Seishiro to take to the Chorus. She would have to run the gauntlet, as she had done so many times. She was good. "Good luck, Suzuko-san," Lloyd said, bowing. For an answer, she just smiled before running off. Friday, July 14 19:43:17.9078 Daniel Hardigan stared morosely at the data on his desk. The attacks continued. They weren't as devastating as they had been at first. The Technocracy mobilized quickly, pulling back, consolidating their forces in strategic locations, avoiding contact with the Demon whenever possible, misdirecting it when not. The New World Order had contingency plans for this type of occurrence, and put them into practice as smoothly as though they'd been used a thousand time in the past. Base priorities were shifted. Locations that had been nerve centers for the region became backwater posts overnight, while obscure bases skyrocketed to prominence. This had cut casualties by almost thirty percent, and equipment loss by nearly twenty. It wasn't enough. The losses were still appalling, and the Technocracy was not so massive an organization that it could sustain them indefinitely. True, they could produce cannon fodder on demand, but against the Sun Child, cannon fodder was not even a worthy distraction. The HIT Marks were able to provide some level of cover, but only because of their relative indestructibility. It was like putting an oak tree in front of a tornado instead of a Christmas tree. The oak stood up longer, but the end result was the same. Nor were Hit Marks cheap to make. The Syndicate was already screaming about their profit\loss margins. All of which meant little or nothing to Daniel. True, he had been assigned to analyze the figures in an effort to form a more coherent response plan. That had been two weeks ago. Since that time, he had had no luck at all. He had been at it non-stop now for sixteen hours. The data kept mounting exponentially after each attack, and all that ever really seemed to change were the dates. In his more exhausted moments he had fantasies of a small clique of Men In Grey sitting in a basement somewhere changing dates on forms and giggling to themselves at the havoc they were wreaking in the data processing sectors. He could picture them now, crouched over keyboards by specially screened computers cackling secretly to themselves. It was a cartoonish image, vaguely reminiscent of Spy vs. Spy from Mad Magazine. He giggled at the thought. Apparently it was time to go home. Giggling at a computer screen was a definite sign of fatigue. He pushed himself back from his desk, stabbing the power button with vicious glee. His coat was in his car, where he'd left it. All needed was his electronic notepad from the top drawer of his desk. He slipped it into his pocket easily and headed for the door. The night air of Santa Cruz was never crisp, he noted sourly. Tolerable, yes. Humid, often. Uncomfortable, more often then he cared to admit. Never crisp and clean like it had been in New England. He missed that feeling. Tonight was a perfect example. The sun had not quite vanished entirely, casting long streamers of shifting color across the evening sky. Had it been a cool evening, the display might have been beautiful. As it was, it merely made the summer heat almost worth enduring. He got into his car, running his customary check for danger. It was an instinctive move now, one he performed without thinking, so he almost missed the warning feeling of something suspended along the flow of the car's future. He couldn't make out the trigger, or the effect, but it didn't feel immediate. He opened the door cautiously, felt a sudden rush along the car's timeline, and hurled himself clear onto the asphalt. A shower of sparks blew out of the dashboard, burning holes in the seat where he had sat moments before. No doubt a freak short in the electrical system. No doubt that it had been intended to kill him either. The largest burn was right behind where his heart would have been. His body went cold, despite the heat of the evening. Someone had targeted him. He looked into the darkness outside the lighted perimeter of the parking lot, suddenly wide awake. Funny how fear could do that. Friday, July 14, 7:50 PM "I don't understand, Colonel," Ken said. "Why don't we attack this Resheph directly and get it over with?" It was a question Lloyd had answered many times and in many places, but he didn't let that color his tone. He answered patiently and slowly, so that all present would understand. "Think of it as using the right tool for the job, Ken," he said. "One thing we have working against us is the Verbena have allies among the Garou." He'd gotten used to refering to the werewolves by their race name in the past weeks. "Hey, what am I? Spam?" Bob asked indignantly. The little bum had become almost a fixture at the makeshift headquarters lately, providing reams of information to the planning council. "No. Neither are you a combatant. Don't bother explaining again. I understand and agree with your reasons. That's not the point. The point is you are in check, forced to maneuver around your kin. They have no such problems in dealing with us." Lloyd leaned over the table. "*But the Verbena don't know about Resheph!*" he said forcefully. "I heard Gert admit to it during the Council vote. They don't know about the Sun Child's weaker aspect, so they are taking no precautions to defend it. *There won't be any Garou there!*" Ken nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I get it now. This lets you get the Garou into the field..." "And frees up the Mages to take the fight to the Verbena. Exactly." Bob scratched himself, muttering curses under his breath, then addressed the group. "You're kinda assuming the others will back this line of reasoning. I can't promise they will. You're asking a lot, there, Leader Man." "I know." He met the bum's gaze squarely, his eyes saying all that needed to be said. Bob sighed. "All right, I'll try to sell it to them," he grumped. "Try hard, Bob," the Colonel said. "Try very hard." "What makes you think we'll have better luck against the Sun Child this time then we had the last several times we've faced it?" Mike asked. "Two things. One, we will have the advantage of surprise. This will be the first time we have been able to take the initiative in this war. They will be the ones scrambling for cover, not us." "And the other thing?" The Hollow understood the plan perfectly well. He was making sure the others did, too. He'd come a long way, Mike had. The Colonel met his eyes. "Secondly, our objective has changed. We don't have to kill the Sun Child. We don't have to take it out, or send it home. All we have to do is slow it down long enough for the Garou to do their jobs." Bob snorted. "I didn't say it would be easy," Lloyd said. "But it has to be easier than killing the damned thing."
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