 
\--recording on--

'And how are we feeling today Rod?'

"Better than before Dr. Devaroux."

'Jean...I'm Jean remember?'

"Jean, Doctor. What's the difference. It's never been different."

'But it can be different Rod. You just have to be willing to accept it for yourself.'

"Accepting what I know to be otherwise will only cause more damage doctor."

'There you go again, reminding yourself of your imagination. Of your dreams and what they meant...Do you remember telling me about your dreams Rod?'

"When?"

'Any time really. Have they ever changed from what they were? What you see every night?'

"...You mean out that window doctor?...Out into the sky?"

'Yes Rod. The spaceship you see. The one you see and walk within every night. I want to know more about the spaceship today Rod.'

"Why?...I mean really, why? You've kept me doped up for years and written off everything I say."

'It's for safety Rod. The safety of others, and you.'

"I haven't felt safe in this house since I came to live in it doctor. Since I have lived in it for this long."

'But you've lived here for years. Surely you feel comfortable in this environment from its familiarity.'

"I don't live here because it's comfortable! I live here because...Alright maybe I am co

'Rod please? Lower your voice?...Thank you...In order to help you Rod, I must understand where your dreams manifest themselves. Men and women alike who have reoccurring dreams, or nightmares often find their sources in their real lives. Their subconscious manifestations representing themselves in dreams. Some think it has meaning behind it, but conventional science has shown that such dreams are either the result of a compressed memory of the day, or something based upon a chemical imbalance.'

"Spare me Dr. Devaroux...please...we've had this discussion before."

'Then you know that I cannot see your spaceship Rod...When I turn out the window I only see overgrowth. Trees, clouds in the distance, Cleveland. Nothing more than that Rod. Can you see it now?'

"No...no I only see it during dreams..."

'Are you sure?...I recall a time when you were convinced that you saw it...I think you said...'every day and in every way. It's never not there. It's there in every time, place and space known to man's imagination, and has always been.'...You should have been a writer Rod you're quite imaginative.'

"That's what you say every time. You always say it's just my imagination because you and everyone else can't see that it's there."

'Can't we?...Rod...I've worked with you, here in this house for a long time. Years. Mrs. Whitman, your caretaker, has never seen this ship. I have never seen it. We accepted that it was there for your benefit, for you to recognize for yourself that it was not there to get better. To get well Rod.'

"I know neither of you and nobody else can see it!"

'Then you can understand why I cannot accept what you see as real, Rod. Why I cannot accept your lucid hallucinations as reality. Why that spaceship is real, or anything you've seen in your dreams has happened, or will happen to you. Or why you should believe it either...I know it must seem very funny to you.'

"Then it'd probably be the only thing you really do know."

'Rod please, stay with me. We do this every week, and I still come, hoping that you'll tell me what you really know. Who you really are? What you've really experienced to make you create such a wild fantasy that has rendered you such an incomplete person?'

"You know already! You know everything I know and have known Dr. Devaroux!"

'Please Rod calm down.'

"No! You won't belittle me any longer about what my dreams are about! I didn't have to reveal them to anyone or even care! You were assigned to me because they felt it necessary!"

'The circumstances regarding your outbursts are well noted Rod. In public and here, in private. My job and goal is to aid in your treatment so you can be reintegrated into society. For your benefit Rod.'

"If you say so..."

'...Let's move on then, past the spaceship.'

"Fine by me..."

'...What about what you were saying three days ago Rod? About the change in your dream.'

"...Change?"

'The new face you saw. The person you didn't know before and had been ranting about...It was only Monday Rod, can't you remember what you were saying?'

"Him...He...He was different."

'How so? Because you hadn't seen him before?'

"No, no the opposite...It was the first time I remember even seeing his face. It was so clear...I knew what he looked like and felt like I had seen him before."

'Anyone you remember meeting Rod?'

"No I'd remember."

'Was he saying anything to you?'

"No, he was concerned...Scared...He didn't know what was going on."

'Ok this is while...if I wrote it correctly...'a battle between monsters and machines took place in the room before you'...was he where you would normally see Rod? Where you normally are in that dream?'

"He was sitting where I was. Where I'd normally be sitting...Watching it all."

'The battle?'

"Yes, the battle."

'So...why was this different Rod? Besides this new face? What happened?'

"He was just there...you know?...I mean everything was always the same before that. I would just sit there and watch all these people run past me...Then something would come up and grab me and it would always end. Just like that."

'Yes you've mentioned that every time you've mentioned the dream as well...'a monster leapt up from your right, and began devouring you...I'm sorry Rod I know it may seem real to you, but this is simply a manifestation of your conscious mind overlapping into your subconscious...What?'

"You've said that before too doctor...many times."

'Not discounting of course, as you've just referenced, your perception of things and future to come. Events which will unfold in our future which threatens...hang on...'all of dimension and space and time?...Rod you're over 50 years old. You've had a job as a fry cook and a deviant most of your life. The year is 2013 Rod, and you live in Cleveland....I hate to be so obtuse but there are many things that are part of reality...here and now...that you must accept.'

"If you say so Dr. Devaroux..."

'...So tell me more about this new face, this person?'

"Why?"

'Because I'm curious Rod. Because I want to know. For the sake of it...It may also yield insight into why you've become as you are. What brought you to this point and conclusion regarding your life...Just tell me...What did he look like?'

"...He was brown-skinned...dark hair...he looked messed up. He was wearing a suit and it was covered in grime and filth. He looked like he was completely oblivious Dr. Devaroux. Like he had walked into someone else's dream. My dream.'

'Did you say anything to him? Did you have any communication?'

"I felt...I felt like I was talking...or mouthing words to him...He was looking at me, like he recognized me...but he was scared. Terrified.'

'What were you saying to him?'

"I don't know...I was just mouthing words it seemed, I couldn't hear anything over the drone."

'The drone that...'that unmistakable sound which brings with it quaking sensation and trepidations. A piercing hum which rattles the bones. Symphony in the ears of the toxic, and woeful din, drowning out the drums of peace.'.

"Sounds about right Dr. Devaroux."

'You're quite descriptive.'

"...If you've had as much time as me to remember it all well enough doctor, you'd think of a good way to express it to anyone."

'Well I'm not fond of poetry, but I'm sure someone would find it appealing...You should consider it a compliment Rod. Something to take pride in yourself for. I'm sure there are people who would appreciate your work if put to paper."

'If..."

"...Let's get back to your new face. Does he have a name?"

'I dont...wait...'

"What is it?"

'I didn't...I didn't remember until I had thought of it...'

"What's that?"

'Well...I knew I had seen his face before, but I didn't remember where I had seen him. Or how I knew him...'

"Where do you know him from Rod?"

'But you asking me that just now...I only remember a word.'

"A word?"

'Clements.'

"Clements?"

'Clements...That's it...That's the only part of him I remember. Besides the face...For some reason I just remember that word with his face. I can't explain it.'

"And that's all you remember? Clements?"

'Does it matter?'

"It does matter we want you to get healthier Rod."

'Do you want me to get healthier? Turn off that tape recorder then.'

"...Fair enough Rod, as you wish..."

\--recording off--

\--recording on--

"May 5th, 2013, Dr. Jean Devaroux DHS in review of patient Rodney Patternik aged 53. Subject suffers from massive schizophrenia coupled with manic depression stemming from an earlier experience, possibly trauma. Any effort to extract the exact moment or memory correlated with his delusion has proven fruitless, and I'm finding it more and more difficult to subvert efforts to institutionalize him. Previous experiments I have made into the symptoms which he suffers have proven well in trial scenarios and post-treatment circumstances. I still don't know why the same conditioning used in the experiments at the behest of the Enclave have not proved sufficient. However this case is different. Subject Patternik truly believes in what he has seen, and continues to see. Aside from vague events and strange similarities, I've found little to keep my interest here to promote the EoL agenda. This name that Rod mentioned, Clements, I'm going to do some looking to see what turns up. Rod hasn't left his home in years, and according to Mrs. Whitman he never does. Where would he get a random name and face he'd never seen before? I hope this proves useful, as I'd hate to pull the plug on a project as promising as this one had seemed."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1.

"Testing ," blows into microphone, "Hello, oh wow, it still works. There we go. Well, where to begin, where to begin. First, I should start with I suppose, whoever you are, how wonderful it is to see you, as is customary to say in my universe. Or was."

"I suppose it would be best to start at the very beginning. The neural connection, if it's functioning in this model, should be enough to take snapshots of--well--what once was. When I make note of something, I'll draw it here in the dirt like so," he scribbles in the dirt at his feet.

"I'll skip the gallant and glorious upbringing that I didn't have and try my best to keep it relevant, since that's what you'll need to understand. It was a Friday, it was night, and the mounted and caged television was belting away some red carpet awards ceremony or other. There was this flickering neon light above me that shone down as, on my break, I tried to eat. It's hilarious now that I think back at what I used to be: McDonald fry-cook. That's right, Diary3.0, I, Rodney Allen Patternik, known by billions as Rod Andrews, by some as Rod 285, and a host of other titles throughout the centuries, began my upward spiral (if you'd call it that) as a fry cook. At a McDonald's no less! And I was on break, absolutely miserable."

I had no idea what caused my mood, as most of my days run together. It could have been the gala on the grainy TV, or Vanessa, my manager, telling me that I hadn't worked six hours she could remember. But it wasn't my surroundings which prompted it. It was just a feeling, one I hadn't experienced. Reflecting upon this while waiting for Vanessa to reappear with my check was easy. Seeing my accumulated hours, minimal in their scope, was not. Oh how I remember that sensation, and how it grew as I tabulated my future expenses in contrast to my pay. Even now, I can feel how the scar I had gotten on my left elbow, after leaning even gently on the fry-vat, wrinkled and forgotten by the management entirely. But at the time, I just felt too exhausted to care or even argue. I drew a sneer from Vanessa as I dotted my name across the slim line on the back of the check, and dotted the 'I' in Patternik on the waxy front counter. I remember her saying, "You stink." A byproduct of working at a McDonald's. Maybe I was already dead and had just forgotten. I was tired, and just couldn't tolerate it then, so I stuffed the check into my pea coat pocket and walked out into the dwindling afternoon."

"In retrospect, I don't recall exactly what it feels like to be depressed, or to know that I am. Psychiatric medicine in those days hadn't really been too open to the notion of even talking to the patient, let alone comprehending how their minds worked. This was also long before the advancements made by PTEKK Medical, or psychological medicine in general. I had attempted the route of academia, and had a basic understanding of such. In the 5 years since I've left home, I've attempted to be a paramedic, a pilot (which ended badly), and a paralegal, which I was good at, but there just wasn't enough work in today's world.",

'And I'm surprised there wasn't, frankly. The year was 1989, and I was neck deep in the Big Apple, sharing the company of the molecules and paramecium alike. Though to look at me, you'd hardly notice a difference between any of us. I was frail, weakened, and hadn't eaten a decent meal in at least a lunar cycle. The irony of which is I work at a McDonald's as a fry cook of all things. If I hadn't seen the brutal treatment displayed by the local NYPD towards dumpster divers, I would have tried it myself. Instead, I would take food with me home from work, but even that became frowned upon. According to Donald, the head manager, 'I shouldn't be making off with food I couldn't afford to buy, even if I had worked for it.' After arguing with him that it would be cheaper for me to simply steal the food at the ludicrous cost when weighed against my already near-translucent check, that 'I should consider getting a second job.' Apparently I still had time to earn a living in between a 70 hour work week.'

'Walking the sidewalk home wasn't helping either. It stuck beneath my feet and held me down. Only in New York, or perhaps some greater cluster of human consciousness, would something designed to make your life a little easier, do the exact opposite. My general path home was lined with the gum-laden foot-tracks, and its aggregate had withered, exposing smooth watered stones beneath, forgotten by all but the conglomerate that clung it together. Well and me of course. But who thinks about things like that? I had no sympathy for rocks, or for myself either. At least I was willing to listen to myself. Before I managed to scrounge you out Diary3.0, I found rocks to be good listeners, but terrible at giving advice.'

'And I suppose that's where the problem began. See in the back of my head at the time, I began to listen to a voice that hadn't been there. The reason why this voice was so striking, so different, and so, well, unusual, was that it was positive. It glowed and radiated with every verb, blissfully gliding through the passages of my mind, illuminating an idea or a state of mine that had been in deep hibernation; suspension. Perhaps whatever it was, merely was exhausted for another reason entirely, slumbering. Waiting. Though most of the time, that's all it was. A sensation. This sensation however, immediately changed to one that paralleled panic, as I glimpsed upon, well, what I shouldn't have seen. At least from a logical standpoint, something I'd have to learn, and I was hardly scientific.'

'There was a man, my age at least, coming towards me from across the street. His steps perfectly fit in line with the caterpillar crosswalk, trailing perfectly. He seemed be to tracking the route by following some type of natural path. He was angular, thin, like me. Stylishly dressed though, and if I can be honest, fuller hair. A striking difference was a thin whirly mustache under his nose. I tend still to shave. The aspect of this event wasn't even necessarily a question, more like a bat-swinging conundrum. This man was me, and if he wasn't me, he sure as hell looked the part. The figure and its eyes were now fixed on just me. I thought we'd at least share a reaction, that of surprise at our similar characteristics. This was not the case. A smile began to seep across his face, slowly, which made his approach seem like hours and time creeping just the same. Finally in that span of eternity crossed 43rd street's caravan of busses and taxis, held his hand out like it was election season, and said quite blatently:'

'Hello. I am you, and you are me. Before you get estranged or even confused, I'd just like to say how wonderful it is to see you!'

'As I had mentioned, I hadn't once experienced this idea of depression, or even delusion, or what by chance it might feel like. That feeling, the rippling coupled with the wintry air truly sent my mind fluttering, and seeped throughout, leaving a trail of sizzling synapses in its wake. The questions and a desire to understand were boiling away everything around me. Everything, but myself, and, well, whoever that was. If my reaction was served as a beverage, it'd 2 parts Terror and 1 part Intrigue, served in cold afternoon sunlight. To be frank, anything with ice would be great at the moment. Anything to drink for that matter either.'

'I remember was suddenly clasped in an embrace. I was alarmed at first, specifically because even if this guy was the spitting image of me, he could easily be working for my wallet. I ripped away from him, staggering back into a man with a briefcase, who sneered and jittered, shaking off me off and walking on. I had righted myself and blinked again. Women in gigantic sunglasses gripping Sachs bags and shark suited traders talking to their electric bricks swam past us in a schools. Street traffic and tunnel-visioned cyclists ambled on autonomously. He truly did resemble me, and out of the thousands of teeming New Yorkers who streamed right by, only he and I were aware of this. He seemed confused at first, but almost immediately broke into a fresh smile. Not like that crooked, half-assed one I had seem him use earlier either. This was a toothy grin, like a hyena, reserved for only the most excited creatures. He ranted on, standing amidst the mid-afternoon rush hour free-for all:'

"You're just how I thought I'd be!" he seemingly goaded me between the seas of people. Maybe he didn't at the time, I still don't know. He looked up and down at my uniform, giggling slightly "Oh wow! I never would have imagined I'd be qualified to work at a McDonald's!" he said, coming close enough to flick my nametag. He must have been joking now. But when I began to appear sour, he immediately brightened more.

"Don't take that the wrong way friend! Er I mean me! Rod! It's simply because there's a lot of responsibility in a job like that. Everything must be timely, fresh, and more importantly clean. Why in my universe it's a great honor and responsibility to..."

'He trailed off, looking about him. The more I even observed his behavior, the more of a feeling I had he wasn't of this world. Well, I didn't know this at the time anyway. For all I knew he could still be some distant relation of mine. Or better yet a delusion. At least I could have killed him off by accepting he was just some wild aspect of a sullen and deprived imagination. It's never that simple though is it?'

'You see Diary3.0...I'll attempt to be eloquent, like my new doctor friend, and not hang on negative specifics. But it's not like it matters anyway right? Besides, this may help whoever reads this to understand. My mother, was what you'd call a 'moonlighter', in the sense that she'd 'moonlight' with whoever she fancied that night. Maybe it was the way he'd 'woo' her. Maybe it was simply the light from the moon, or elsewhere, flipping a lightswitch of fertility on and off at any given moment. So one could argue that there are any possible number of suitors my mother could have labeled as my father.'

'There was the bus driver in 1960, a Maytag salesman from Oakland, or a laundry list, no pun intended, of other affairs that were still a passionate delight for her to remember. Me, not so much. It wasn't a shock then when I left home, refusing to return to her or to whomever she referred to as my siblings, or my father. Trusting her was like trusting a gust of wind. You know it would come but it would rather knock you down so you'll remember.'

'So naturally when I saw this well dressed, mirror image of myself, I did not include any potential for science, or physics, or anything of that nature. This man was simply a byproduct of a conductor's summer love affair he traded for an open-ended ticket, or the seed of a weary salesman who had made a passionate commission on a washer. One way or another, if this man was my twin, I highly doubted he held a position any different than mine.'

'He had been bantering on, following my short steps uptown, whirling about, reflecting upon 'How fascinating!' it all was. People passing avoided him, like his fantasy was a cold and he was sneezing everywhere. 'How could anyone in New York possibly be THAT happy?' they must have thought. I had thought for sure that like my other siblings, he clearly must be in some chemical addled state, or perhaps had permanently entered one and been reluctant or unable to leave. My patience with him was running at empty, especially since I had been focusing not on anything he was rambling about, but what the hell he was even doing following me?'

'I halted before the crossing towards the Port Authority Bus Terminal, hoping that this 'phantom' would just divert from his lop-sided conversation, see that I wasn't interested no matter how similar we looked. I didn't have bus fare to give him, and I wanted him to just fade away to Atlantic City, or Philadelphia, or Bumblefuckawayfromme, USA. A ghost of a life my mother had taken for granted, or simply had discounted. He stopped as I did, I'm sure to comment about our unmistakable facial features, and I lost it.'

"Ok, what the fuck do you want? Money? I have shit!" I demonstrated by rustling my pockets, and displaying the 'pocket flag.' People of my time had referred to it as the 'Hoover Flag', or more recently with the decidedly popular 'Reagan Flag.' of the time. Things really had gotten that bad for me there.'

'He looked puzzled, stupefied in contrast to the focused bustling commuters. "I don't understand. I mean, we all carry fecal matter in one way or another but I can hardly see why it would be valuable to carry it in ones' pock-..."

"Oh for Christ's sake, what do you want from me huh? Food? I have none. Money? I don't have that either. I literally have nothing but the shirt on my back, here! Take it if you'll leave me alone!" I noticeably echoed, ripping the collar off my work shirt, simply to get it off and hand it to him. It was probably best that he laughed hysterically when he finally realized I thought of him as a robber, or a thief of some sort. The McDonald's shirt was one of the few things I had left, and I just tore it apart. Still, giving it away may have staved off getting stabbed by what looked like a twin, even if it would have cost me the forty dollars I didn't have to replace it. He held up his hands to me, smiling goofier than ever.'

"Please, I want nothing you carry, or anything you consider of 'value.' he said, quoting with his fingers. "I am not a thief, nor am I a vagabond. I have come here, not here necessarily, this wasn't expected. However I knew this universe had to be similar in one, way, shape or form to my own. And one of the first things I had to do, was find you." he finished, with his index finger poking me in the chest.'

'I was stunned. Not from being poked, not from all this that had happened. Though it didn't help. Neither was what made me so stunned. It was the idea.'

'The idea itself as already turning over in my brain, working its way through what I've learned is a wired network of madness; interconnected lightning-rods working in a fashion that would make an ant-hill bewildered. Maybe it was working a 12 hour shift looming over potato grease and bacon fat. Maybe it was the high level of smog that day in the winter months, or perhaps it was that I was simply not feeling well, and there was a fault that lie elsewhere internally. Though this reasoning would come later, after I had regained the consciousness lost fainting head first into a parking meter.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2.

'Darkness, followed by the foggy colored blips of cognitive collection greeted me when I awoke on a familiar surface. Chafy, but firm. I ran my fingertips across the coarse and engrained surface. The creaky neon sofa beneath me, though comfortable, it was far from that. Still, it wasn't the pavement. I gazed about, examining the state of what I called an apartment.'

'It was still dusty, and had been out of style for at least 20 years prior to my renting. A wilting orange hue was spread across every wall, with the lacquer and trim painted a streaky white, harboring the sweat of some forgone laborer in each stroke. The brisly shag carpet was almost a blood red, rich, musky from time past. I could still hear the familiar buzzing of rainbow flies, sharing a meal of tainted plate, and the faint hum of an underground train stories below. It was a filthy mess. My mess, complete with my own bed to sleep in. It was evident that I was absent of even an ounce of vanity, or had any sense of self-worth. Working at McDonald's has that effect on some from what I've seen. At least with me, and in this particular universe. The most reassuring aspect of this however, was my over-painted door was latched from the inside. Whoever, or whatever I had seen, was simply that. Something I had imagined, and not actually had witnessed.'

'I flopped back, sighing in relief. I remember thinking "It was a scary dream, and how horrible it was that I dreamed I was at work, but it was over." But then, I heard the gentle lap of the showerhead. Listening, I could tell instantly that either the shower had been left on, or someone was in there. Peering up over the sofa's arm, I could see that the door to the bathroom was ajar, and steam billowed from the inside, rendering the mirror on the outside of the door half-opaque. I edged off the noisy couch, raising upright now, and shifting slowly with tender baby steps towards the mystery.'

'The door gave easily, though groaning while it opened slightly. The pattering of the shower continued, as I made my way closer and closer to it. There was a dead-white shower curtain that was slung ring-free over the bar of the shower, and I ripped it back to gaze upon whoever, or whatever manifestation of mine was there, and found nothing. The heat and steam of the vacant shower plumed upward onto the ceiling's cracked paint, and I stepped back. Behind me, where there was normally just a toilet, there was also a figure inhabiting it, or at least perched on it. I did not realize this however, my left foot nudged the leg of whoever was sitting there. I whipped around, to the Cheshire smile I had seen on the street before. That other me was sitting on the can, newspaper wide, wild eyes above the headlines blinking at me, delighted.'

"Ah I was wondering when you'd be awake. This newspaper was lovely though, however it was sitting on your neighbor's doorstep directly across the hall. In the future if you see him, please apologize for my rudeness in taking it, I wouldn't want him to be put out over the news, of, well, not being able to see said news." he chuckled.'

'I immediately thought of who he meant by the neighbor across the hall. A burly angry sort, resembling what a bulldog (crossed with a poodle for hair) would look like if it was crossed with a human, and just as temper mental. He probably wouldn't know a difference of print had it come from Hearst or Gutenberg. This wouldn't alleviate my angst in the slightest, and the 'Wolf-man' of 3-14 was hardly of my concern at the moment. The real issue at the time, was:'

"Who the fuck are you?" I said, bluntly.'

'He looked up at me; my own pale blue eyes gazing back, smirking, still atop 'his' porcelain throne, reading the comics section now. He wasn't relieving himself at all, simply sitting on the lid seat as he let the heat from the unbridled showerhead cloud the room. He could see I wasn't remotely bothered by the steam, and found this humorous. "Clearly, we are one in the same' he said, coyly, burying his gaze again in the funny papers."

'I was losing patience again, but this time it wasn't deflected by the frigid outdoors, or even by the lingering mouthful of sidewalk. This time the delusion, the whatever it was, was in my own house. It had stolen a newspaper, something I'd never done, and had locked up behind it. It had also somehow carried me up there and had laid my down on the sofa. None of that mattered right now, because 'it' wasn't making 'itself' any simpler or clear regarding anything. I turned around, wrestled the haphazard shower curtain off the rack and nearly ripped the handle off the wall to stop the water.'

'This, while surprising my counterpart, did little to inspire him from anything other than laughter. "You know you should try that sometime, it really does help you to relax. Also it would alleviate your stench." he joshed, motioning with his paper-clad hands to the shower. He could see through his giggling and the rocking of the newspaper in his grasp that I was far from encourage able, goading bastard he was, is. I was livid; hotter than the faucet's pipes. He gingerly placed the paper on the top of the toilet behind him, and turned to meet my gaze, motioning for me to seat myself across from him on the rim of the damp tub, and opened up in starry-eyed explanation.'

'After I had, he stood, went as rigid as his body must have allowed, and bowed. "My name, is Dr. Rodney Allen Bandever. My name, is different than yours simply in last name, which was my mother's choice. Our mother. You see, we are of the same blood, of the same type, of the same genome. But what we are not, are brothers, twins, or remotely related within the bounds of what you would call 'a universe'. Or within the bounds of what you would call 'your universe'." he said quoting with his fingers.'

'I know for a fact that I began to laugh, and almost got up to go to the living room to call the police, when he sat down and leaned forward, clasping his hands together, silently pleading. I crossed my arms and he continued on:'

"My arrival, in this place, this New York, or another version of it that seems horrendously askew to me, is a surprise to even me. I'm reluctant to reveal as many details as yet, simply because I do not fully know where I am. And by where I am, I do not mean 'which planet'. I am fully aware that I am a human being, and that I am on some form of Earth, though I am not sure which Earth it may be."

'I could feel my eyes already rolling. He made note of this and went on.'

"I have no doubt that you do in fact have doubts as to who I am. I can only be as honest and as forthcoming as I can be, to reveal that yes, you and I, may as well be brothers. In this universe as well frankly. We share the same genetics for the most part, we share similar characteristics in appearance and clearly with your level of contempt coupled with at least a modicum of intellect you can agree that to its validity, at least by what is seen and heard thus far."

"We are, if not the same, so similar that even our own mother wouldn't tell us apart!" he quipped, acknowledging immediately my discontent at the mention of even the word 'mother'. He must have known that it was a touchy subject for me, based upon my chemical reaction; silence. Wherever he was from and whoever he called mother, clearly wasn't the same person in my universe.'

'He cleared his throat, moving on from uncomfortable territory. "But to be honest, we could be far different than I know. I do know that upon arriving at this universe and in this very area and vicinity, I could not, well, should not have known that another of my selves even lived here, let alone called this universe home! Imagine my surprise when in the midst of taking in this 'New' New York, this bustling near decrepit wasteland of sex clubs and skyscrapers! Incredible! Even in my New York things are, were, radically different! Then I see you! Me! And you work at a McDonald's! It's splendid! Absolutely splendid how radically different and changed everything is!' he foamed.'

'He could tell I was between utterly lost and disheartened in being reminded of my world and my role so brazenly. He changed gears, looking back to my neighbor's paper. "To be honest however, I do find your comics pages to be hilarious. We haven't the level or capacity of such wit where I come from. I mean a talking cat that craves lasagna? A beagle that lives on top of a doghouse?" He laughed deeply. "I envy you for living among and within a universe so open, so content with what many in my universe would have deemed ludicrous."

'He wrinkled the paper, pointing at one particular strip he liked. "In my universe" he explained "There were Vikings, and one may have been named Hagar, or even Hagar the Horrible. But the fact that he's a loving husband and still a bloodthirsty raider? My, my how lucky you are to not live in a universe so inclined and driven to be part of the literal, or that which makes so much logical sense." He laughed again, still sitting on the toilet lid without hinting at going. I was waiting for him to rant for hours about that as well at that point.'

'I rose to my feet, off the lip of the tub, and walked out of the bathroom, still in the humid haze of the shower and the lunacy of what I had just heard. There were footsteps behind me, and I turned, to see the smiling scientist me, walking to the kitchen and seating himself at closest to the window, on the 3rd out of the 4 corners of my dilapidated dinette.'

"So, what do I call you then?" I asked, standing near but further from the table.

'He gazed at me for a moment, then at the air, then the ceiling, and said "Well, in my universe I was simply known as 'Rod', or 'Rodney' or 'Doctor', or 'Dr. Bandever.' So whichever of those you prefer would be appropriate, at least since it was appropriate for the colleagues I had and the people I knew in my universe. But since you're me, you're allowed much more than that I feel. I mean, if your name was Mud in this universe, I'd expect you to call me the same anyway, simply out of familiar physical characteristics. I mean the fact that you're even a fellow 'Rod' such as me, leaves me honestly staggered!"

'He hadn't answered my question, so I just played along. "Ok...Rod. So...." I said sitting down at the same table, "You're...me."

"Yes." he replied.

"From this universe?"

"No no no, haven't you been listening?" he began, "We're the same but we're not. I am you, but from a different universe. You are me, but from a different universe, you follow?"

'This is where I had the biggest problem. The year was 1989. There was a complete lack of understanding across the board for many things. The economy was in ruins, or almost, society in general appeared to be mimicking an oligarchy, and you could smell how badly the world was off simply by how rank it seemed where the most people were. It was at a profound time for me, to imagine anything other than a complete mishap of humanity, and a stark absence of a conceivable future than didn't entail or endorse chaos or destruction. Still, I was hopeful. I know that now, or I'd have kicked him out then and there.'

"I think so," I replied "But.. I mean I guess I should say...Well what do you mean different exactly?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when you say 'different', what do you mean 'different'? Is the sky green in your universe? Are the Dodgers the NY team with the Yankees moving to LA? I mean there are so many possibilities to this to even..."

"YES!" he exclaimed, laughing hysterically "YES! I'm sorry I didn't mean to frighten you, but it's neat hearing and seeing, well, ME, talk about such things and still be a radically different person!" he went on excitedly, then stopped seemingly distraught, "My apologies again, I didn't mean to interrupt."

'It's odd, but at the time I noticed this too. In the years that I had lived in that apartment, I hadn't had a single guest, or visitor. Aside from the Wolfman's barking across the hall, and my landlord, only twice seeing a 'POTENTIAL EVICTION NOTICE' sticker plastered on my door. Things really had gotten that bad for me at that time. I'd never have known I was even existing among reality in my apartment, or the building. Or even in reality itself. I guess the feeling I'm looking to describe was, well, feeling. I felt like my opinion actually mattered, at least to some one, or thing. This strange man, this fun-house-mirror-image of me, made me feel like I had just dusted off my brain, carefully unwrapping whatever cover I had laid upon it and no matter when. The same feeling unlocked a mechanism, forcing a tumbler downward, and engaging my imagination. For once, my brain actually seemed to be assembled and ready for something, other than remembering how unhappy I was.'

"Still there starshine?" Dr. Rod said, smirking and waiting patiently.'

'I paused, then nodded. I didn't want to waste my thoughts on this at the moment. It was too fresh and new to simply stop and take in slowly. This was the type of thing I had to immerse myself in, to understand like a diver understands water. Sink or swim, and I had never even touched live or unfiltered water.'

'He cleared his throat, and began. "Well, in my universe the sky is still blue. We still have the United States of America, like here, and we also have New York City. However, the New York City I was familiar with also had cleaner streets, with less people sprawled out on them. There were museums that weren't mausoleums of cultures past, but more vibrant and celebratory events correlated to spur of the moment 'fesitvals.' The thick clouds to which you must use some combustible form of what smells like an oil or petroleum base, don't fill our air or our lungs. Ironically much of the skyline looks the same, as I'd like to think it would, being from the same time period if not the same universe, but still, there are many things I've been mystified by."

"Such as?" I queried, expecting some amazement of our refinement and our civility in this era.'

'I couldn't have been more wrong. "Well beside the things I just mentioned? I mean I know this is Earth because of how it feels, but your New York doesn't feel new, or welcoming in the slightest. The trees I've seen were trapped in circular plots along streets, no doubt to give them some decoration, but are all wilted and littered upon thoughtlessly, almost as thoughtlessly as the people you've let go."

"Let go? Wait a minute I didn't..."

"No, please let me finish. I'm sorry but if you're anything like me, once you get into a motion of thought it's difficult sometimes to stop. Now, in my universe we did not have war or strife, or even the homeless, because we had experienced that already. For centuries. We couldn't tolerate looking around at our world, seeing our elders and those our age, like us pitted against one another, like beasts locked in primeval toil. We nurtured and fed them, clothed them, and welcomed them into our world because they hadn't left, even if we thought they had. We treated each other like we one another were our own." he seemed to be getting irate, and noticed. He calmed slightly, ebbing away at his thoughts. "I suppose I was just taken aback when I first arrived, just how much the same, yet how different it all was. Part of the reason I suppose, why I tried so hard to find you!"

"Me?"

"Yes you!" he said. "One of the anchors I've sought truly is the manifestation of what I would be, well, what 'we'd' be, if one of 'us' was to exist in this universe! It's truly amazing in my humble opinion, that I managed to find you after such little effort!"

'I believed him then, but it's only because I didn't have the inkling to otherwise. 'Dr. Rod', as I've come to call him, continued to live rent-free in my apartment, fixing various things here and there. A shimmy from the air conditioning vent was tempered. A leaking pipe beneath the kitchen sink was mended. For once when I would arrive home from work, the feeling of emptiness would subside in the wake of now familiar sounds, droned in particular by a familiar face whose cheer and zeal eroded the savages of my world and replenished and cultivated them anew. For a change anyway.

'As time went on, I began to ponder less and less about my new friend's beginnings, or even where or who he really was. But, I had felt alone for so long, that it seemed only natural to have an extension of myself around in some form, considering I was so brutally awful at collaborating with others who weren't. Many benefits began to emerge from having this blissful version of myself, though more than likely a delusion or some long lost twin, though the best and most incredible was yet to come.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3.

'Thus our friendship continued unabated. He'd work around the house, while I 'won' the 'hamburger bun' bread so to speak. This went on for some time, especially since unbeknownst to me, my landlord had assumed that this doppleganger was actually me. When I entered one day for example, he had run up to me excitedly down the dilapidated hallway, thrusting 3 rolls of what looked like blueprints under my arms and sending me happily on my way. I didn't truly understand what had just happened until I arrived in my door, with Dr. Rod relieving me of my paper load.'

"I'll just take those!" he said merrily, whisking them off to his newly annexed corner of the apartment near the window. I had felt guilty that the only living space I had for, well, what certainly appeared to be myself, was a corner of a moldy sofa in a dank burrow in Manhattan. He was thrilled on the other hand, seemingly of being able to breathe frankly, and now nestled himself into the edge of the orange day-glo sofa, peering deeply into the plans.'

'I set down my standard issue smock and flicked off my no-brand service shoe. "What's all that for?" I asked.'

"Various instruments from your world actually." he responded, his eyes woven deeply now into the schematics. "An invention idea from your landlord friend, as well as some other schematics I picked up from your local patent office. Was a ghost-town there I was quite shocked. Also since as I said, 'I'm me, so you're me', I knew you'd leave an extra key in a dark but accessible region, but I should note that the air conditioning vent you use is a poor substitute for a viable method. Incidentally, I replaced it where I had found it but attached it to a string which is knotted out of sight." he droned.

'I stepped forward, gazing upside down over the coffee table and above Dr. Rod's head. It resembled what would have normally been some form of bicycle, but the wheels were much smaller. There was also a flat plate in which you'd stand, and a straight bar for what must have been hand grips. Finally, the bar itself one grabbed was fold-able, so you'd be able to carry it distances it seemed. From the design it also must have been very light. Dr Rod, not even looking up, knew already that I was just as transfixed as him.'

"Imagine," he began, "That of all the universes, and all the places, that I, while pretending to be you, would encounter a completely different version of Steven Patmont!" he exclaimed, waving his arms gleefully.'

'I looked at him completely lost. "Who?"

"You know... well no I suppose you don't know. In my universe, this man was responsible for creating this device known as a 'scooter.' It was a device of convenience really, and as you can see here had a small engine designed to carry its occupant for some distance. The truly fascinating thing to me, isn't necessarily that he's the middle management of a slum, but the fact that this invention was made years ago in my time, or I should say space. It truly makes me feel that..."

"Wait...hang on. You just said that he was responsible for making that scooter in your time. But he's still yet to make it in this universe, and you've been here for months already. And just what the hell do you mean by universe or your time anyway? You haven't said so much as a peep aside from 'Pass those chips' or 'Could you bring me some bottled water when you arrive back?' Haven't you ever heard of walking? Haven't you ever heard of a tap?" I said, pointing to the sink.'

'He smirked, "It's just one of those things you get used to I guess. In my universe I..."

"Stop. Stop that shit, right now." I remember saying, walking to the door and back. "Now what the fuck do you mean separate universes? Like more than yours and mine? Yours and here? And what do you mean separate times, I mean I'm really tryin' to..."

"Please I hardly find it necessary to swear over such a..."

"Fine..." I corrected myself, and my tone, imitating the Doctor. "Please excuse my outburst and my inability to collect my thoughts." I murmured, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingertips. I opened my eyes again to see Dr. Rod smiling contently. He remained sitting, and motioned for me to sit on the corresponding maize plush chair. He leaned forward amidst my prismatic living set, and began as I had eagerly awaited for some time.'

"First, it's prudent, meaning important, for me to note that much of what I know, remains true within this universe. The formulas, the mathematics, other things will remain true. This is a good sign, because it illustrates that this universe is somewhat as grounded as my own. Just as stable. Naturally, this means that while my research may be hindered from a lack of technology or tools, I can easily recreate them with the available components of today."

"Secondly, when I made note of your landlord's scooter, I realized something was amiss. Essentially, as the result of this invention being created already in my universe, well before this time in fact, I can only assume that people of each universe, regardless of their standing in other universes, revolve and act at different rates than the others. Almost like planets and other bodies! Now, that I think about it, I..."

"Hang on, whoa. Whoa. Wait a minute..." I stammered, attempting to hang on to this conversation and not get thrown off. Dr. Rod silently and complacently awaited my reply, and after a moment I was able to deliver.'

"You're telling me, that there are more versions of me...of us...out there?"

'He almost burst into laughter. Academia and its embarrassing ideology of not asking was rearing its ugly head again it seemed, until:

"Of course there are! There are separate universes in this very table! In this couch! In these blueprints even!" he said, shaking them vigorously, their echo crackling through the apartment. "It's a subtle connection that was only recently discovered in my universe, at the wake of one of my and my colleague's inventions. A universal fabric! A woven blanket threaded with the ideas of both time and space! Why I..." he trailed off.

'He had stopped completely. If he had been driven by a motor, it had either seized or stalled. "What invention was that? Some form of hover scooter maybe?" I giggled.'

'I saw a smile melt from Dr Rod's face, and was left hanging, listless. The coy smirk, the colorful contour of lively emotions, all that had ceased. I had asked a dumb question, but more inconsiderate than stupid it seemed.'

"I'm sorry, it's none of my..." I began.

"No, it's really not any of your business. I'm sorry but that's all I can say." he quipped, quickly rolling up the plans and nervously placing them next to him.

"It was a dumb thing to say, a hover scooter I mean I..."

'His eyes turned to me, wide and frightened. "For your own safety and well-being, I must insist that this conversation come to a halt." He was firm in gaze and wooden in stature.'

'Something I had said with that last question had created a wave of thought in Dr. Rod, an ebbing flow of information and emotion, curling among the riptides, twisting their way to the beachhead of his imagination. This was the first time I had ever seen him offended, or even the slightest bit hurt. I knew what it felt like and he had made concessions to my feelings.'

'I had said goodbye when I had left for work, with him remaining in what seemed a catatonic state. I remember feeling how awful I felt about offending him, him this almost wall of comfort and familiarity, regarding something I couldn't understand.'

'It hung uncomfortably over my head at work, my worry clouding every surface it touched. I feared that when I returned home, the delusion would be destroyed, or my friend would be gone. Either way, I would have returned to a home I didn't want; A lonely one.'

'But what I saw when I arrived home after that 10 hour shift, was something not even I could have predicted, what with all that I had already seen.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4.

'The lights were out when I peered in, and opened the door. There was no sign of life, no lights on in the bathroom or the opposite room to suggest Dr. Rod had remained. The television was off and cool to the touch. No visible food left in the open to suggest he had been there at all. Even the remaining last bit of old crosswords on the table I had ruined and he had fixed, weren't finished. For the first time in many months, I both felt and was, alone.'

'My keys clattered on the coffee table and I flicked the knob on the television. Slumping into the day glo chair, I rummaged through my pockets further as I reviewed the days events, hoping to distract myself. Work was fine, no incidents there that I could recall. The walk home was fine. I was thinking further, and I remembered something which seemed crucial as Dan Rather crooned about hot oil: I didn't run into Mr. Patmont, whose name I embarrassingly learned for the first time when he had mistaken me for my giddy counterpart. I realized this, while still checking my pockets with the feeling that something was missing, which was not. As I gauged my wallet was in tact, and my pack of spearmint, the only other worldly possession I seemed obliged enough to carry, I noticed what was missing. The plans, for the scooter and others from the table.'

'I looked about the apartment, and began to recognize something even more bizarre. Most of the paint in the apartment seemed to breathe a glow, intermittent, without any shone or sheen displaced through the curtains. The numbers on my kitchen's analog clock weren't legible in the slightest, and seemed to bend, dip, and spin at every opportunity to avert my gaze and focus. Every line and surface seemed to blob outwards at spastic intervals, never violently, but seemingly aware of my attention, but refusing to acknowledge it.'

'Now at this very moment, I saw a flickering of light, akin to a lighter, or a match being sparked, under the bathroom door. It was brief, pattering once or twice, silently developing, until it was bright enough to span the floor to my toes. Tempting me, my shadow draped its brilliance as I neared the door. The knob gave easily, and the door briskly opened. And at that moment, my view of reality changed forever.'

'The room itself, was massive. The ceiling was vaulted, with archways providing intricate balconies and catwalks that threaded within the steel-like framework. It was curved circular, or more oval-esque actually, with the front lip of it devoted entirely to an elaborate curved chalkboard, which bent in a way that seemed to defy any logic to which I had been endowed. However, the most exotic yet alarming part of this room was the center; multiple rows of standard college and seminar desks, all filled with versions of me. Versions of us. At the center of the room where my gaze finally fell, was Dr. Rod, haloed in neon, smiling at me. "Hello and welcome Rod-285. It's great to see you!"

'Ecstatic versions of myself trotted over en masse, all of them 'waving' in a bizarre fashion. There were tens, maybe hundreds of them, all similar in appearance aside from various differences in characteristics. I know one had a cowboy hat for sure, and another had a robotic hand.'

'The 'waving' that I had mentioned since it's referred to as just that, involves slapping the insides of both of your feet, and clapping your hands three times. They were all dancing it seemed in a fluctuating semicircle, which from above as I later found is quite a beautiful geometric design and saw it used where I found appropriate. Apparently, the invocation of this according to what I found later, was it was a ceremonial greeting used to congregate and embolden the newcomer in one of our 'sister-verse's' societies. It must have been done repeatedly for all whoever these people were, these me's. Whoever it came from is anyone's guess, but I have my theories even now.'

'I looked on amidst the crowd of us's, noting the scientist, who upon meeting my gaze, raised both of his hands outward slightly and effortlessly. The jubilance quelled, as the various versions of ourselves began to seat themselves where they had been.'

'I must have missed them, but there was another group, closer to the back of the auditorium who hadn't moved to greet me when I had arrived. I could barely make them out from the lights above and surrounding. Before I could devote more than a moment's notice, I was motioned up to the stage floor to a chair, next to a short podium in front of the teeming chalkboard, by the Dr. himself. When I was seated and looked back, they were gone. Dr. Rod, now behind the podium, began to speak.'

"Gentlemen; We all, in ourselves, know why we are here. We, have felt a sensation, not what some of you would describe as an 'instinct', or an 'idea', or even what some of you have likened in some of your universes as a 'force.' These words are all simply that; words, misnomer. An instinct for example, is something you utilize in a real and tangible scenario. In a dreamlike state, such as this, your senses fool you, and can be manipulated as such, but usually at the behest of ones' own imagination or subconscious. An idea is close, because it postulates that it can be tangible, or crafted. However, an idea still had to have a root, a basis, a beginning if you will. A chicken is a wonderful idea, until you think about where the egg it hatched from, came from. And a force, well, a force is something like an obligation. A form of emotional bondage, a knife's edge that will always pierce, either by fate, circumstance, or even at the dismissal of the yoke altogether."

"All these words themselves, share something in common to describe revolutionary thinking; a feeling beyond ones' self to create and copiously generate a legacy beyond ourselves. A notion, a mutual understanding, a symbiosis if you will, solely devoted for a future incompatible to even our own basic comprehension of what the word 'future' even means."

"This, this alone gentlemen, has driven men mad with the lusts for power and false virtue. Masses, enchanted it would seem by the drive of men like these, often follow suit, with consequences dire and lasting beyond memory itself. In all our universes, we have seen the ruts left by callous ventures, ecological devastation blotting out the sun's own rays, subconscious manipulation, and chasms of social disrepute have torn from that as result. All our worlds share scars, and like them all of you, us, share them too."

"How could one prove this, what we are here, aside from us? How would one even know aside from what we, in this room could do? I have summoned you all here, across all planes of possibility, happenstance, or whatever hobble-de-gook you prefer. I know I have summoned you all here, for I was the first to arrive. So, naturally, you're all here either at my own disposal, as an elaborate delusion, or you're merely a manufacture of a listless and dream-like state I'm experiencing." he squinted. "Or are you?"

"I don't mean to alarm you my new friends, but I do not know how I have come to stand before you today. I do not know how I gained this insight, this channeling sense, to attain the power in bringing you all together, here, and now. I cannot explain or even extrapolate as logically as I can, utilizing the most of the scientific experiences, to justify or interpret my knowledge of any of you, your worlds, or how you've come here, simply minutes after I had seemed to 'arrive'. I just don't know." he said shrugging.

'He ambled the stage behind the podium, looking around. "The most ironic part about this all though, to me gentlemen, is the setting in which we're within. This pod. This, egg shaped classroom. It may look bizarre to you, as it certainly did to me when I first studied here. I sat, right over there," he said pointing to the right side of the room, closer to the entrance that was formerly to me, the apartment. All the Rods gazed over in unison, then turned back. "I remember sitting there during one of my main courses growing up during my youth. This place, and all it is, is a memory. My memory. Yet, you weren't here for this. None of you were. And yet, there you all are."

"I have yet to test the capacity to which this, 'reality', is any more of a dream to me than it is to you. But I can tell you all, that this place, is one to me of comfort. Of understanding and free will. I come here, within my own mind, to, well, 'unwind', and continue my work within my own imagination where it can roam unabated. Whether you are simply delusions of my own mind, or actually an influx of information from a source yet to be known, is, well, yet to be known."

'There were some voices instantly from the crowd, which even I had heard. "Whether it be the marionette devices of divinity, or a fraying and re-sewing of the fabrics of consciousness, we together are here. In this place. Real or not. That is something." rapping his hands on the podium, continuing, "That is beyond something friends, that, this, is more concrete, and real than any reality I have yet to experience, my own or anothers'. This is monumental in scope, higher than any mountain can take us, deeper than the most benthic of sea trenches will allow. This is a responsibility. A task which we must undertake, and strive to do well, for the sake of all our universes and their survival. At last, a legacy to which we can all endure!"

"We have all witnessed, whether it be Rod-554 with his planet depleted of drinkable water and political leadership, Rod-349, whose world was irradiated by careless and wanton destruction, even Rod-285, whose universe is on the cusp of change yet lacks the yearning for a shift in thought."

'There were some grumbles from the crowd, but they quickly subsided at the Doctor's patient glance. "We've all seen it in one way shape or form. While we do not control, or can manipulate the mechanisms of existence remains to be certain, but what we do know, is that we ourselves are A mechanism. We are certainly not THE mechanism, not only because what we're within now, but because our wakened state reins a control too complex for even us, and it's obscenely pompous to be so, dare I say, 'geo-centric'. If we truly are here, now, in friendship and collaboration to merely sit among our own mirror images in peace and commonality, that alone, illustrates such a concept. Such a vision. But being A mechanism, allows us still to be collaborative to a greater consciousness, forged outside ourselves."

He jutted forward over the podium, softly but sharp enough to impact. "But, why stop there? We have the blueprint that has tested time in the form of one universe or another. Each world of ours has experienced a discomfort another has not, and one which two may share and still have different ideas and perspectives. We, here, wield a new power. A creative collaborative within this field of thought, whatever it may be. An entity, unionized and structured for the benefits of many, garnered to, by and from the spectrum to which we each illuminate and physically display, individually and intrinsically to our own worlds and by extension, ourselves."

"With this knowledge alone, it is akin to the cog realizing its essence within a machine. At first, the realization alone at what we are, what we have become, is enough to break a man, the strongest man. But when even the strongest, gains an awareness that weakens itself for even a moment, it is a slight pain to which even the weakest can resilient and defiant, as the strong prove over weights and mass. It is for this reason, why the transcendence of logical thought into a convergence, coupling all thoughts, past, present, and far in the future, have been stymied. Alone, we are malleable, and prone to admit to and otherwise allow subservience into unsubscribed conformity. Our thoughts, our dreams, our destinies, were designed to suit and fit us. We, you, have allowed otherwise for much too long."

"We have not all been as lucky as us, who sit here today. Many of us from what I've seen, have adhered to an incorrect escape method. Suicides, violence against other humans, creatures, and ourselves, the chemical lures, the sexual ambiguities and trophies of fabricated achievement and allure. Trapped in a world we could make, but beyond our grasp to do so. I have seen it, even my in my own universe friends. Why else would I create a domain like this to thrive? I am the same age as you all! We, share this society, this brotherhood. We are the most alike, and the most advanced. Our worlds are linked, woven with one another along a singular line of nature itself. Whoever said there is not a straight line in nature was wrong! It is here! Now! In this very room itself! Proof with all of you and me, standing together as one!"

'The good doctor, turned from the attentive crowd of familiar faces to me, pointing to me, hand wide. "We have a moment in all our lives, where we not only suspect the mere existence of such a legacy, but we often are met at random it would seem, with the initiative or external influence to glimpse upon what it could be. Perhaps for some of you, it's here and now in this, 'room'. Maybe you had seen it earlier, or had felt it in some way that you knew was indescribable. The one all of you see here, now, Rod-285, was my motivator."

'He turned back to the crowd, meeting their eyes with a vibrant stare. "While the specifics of our structure are still being laid into place, I have an abounding trust in this man, this alternate us. I exist currently, within the bounds of his tangible universe, or what you'd consider the '285-verse,' a 'sister-verse' to your own. I had mentioned earlier that the universe of 285 was lacking a shift of thought, a new direction illustrated for the sake of setting itself apart. It is pliable, and in need of new insight and genuine progression. It is in danger, but in the infancy of its danger. It can be corrected, mended and like any organism, can be taught to fend for itself. With the grace of our ingenuity, and our steadfast dedication, we can begin anew, much like his world can, and will with our help."

"He, our 285, has shown perseverance in the face of adversity, trying first at medicine and then law, only to be stifled in every step he takes. Brilliant men shouldn't be shackled. They should be handed wings to soar above, not forced to scrounge and scrape to strive. None deserve the fate of animals, especially those whose thoughts alone have the potential to aid many. They should be encouraged, cultivated by societies, to inspire and perspire for the sake of doing so. For the sake of all the could, couldn't, or didn't know it was even possible. A beacon in the darkness of all existence, to draw the elements of creativity and humanity inwards, and propel us all, together, into a new echelon of thought and being."

'Doctor Rod stepped backwards, still radiating exuberance. He began to encircle me, sitting in my chair, my back to the blackboard, generating the lurking stares from the audience of other Rods. "All good things, are structured." he began. "Even the things we take for granted. For example a plum or a pear from a tree, taste delicious. But they can easily be spoiled, or unripe if the tree's sap is too sour, reliant upon a chemical drive from external sources. The blossoms, which attract the pollinators, silent custodians of all our worlds, require simplicity and geometric perfection. If the petals were slightly off, or their degrees changed from mutation, would the bees flock to nest in their bosom? A coherent, yet dynamic system, which requires not just the highest and most intelligent minds to pilot, but the complacency and tireless effort at every level of leadership and every plane of its overall design."

'I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned to see the Doctor standing to my right side.'

"You've been shackled for too long my friend. You've given me patience, laughs, a roof under my own head and a floor with a...funky carpet to knead with my fingertips"

'This drew odd jeers and giggles from the other Rods, but he continued undeterred. "I alleviate you, this today, this moment, of your allegiance to a false system, a failed dynamic. All of you. The silent custodians of dimensions. Today we all begin anew, blossoms of a new era, wielding a new understanding, baptized if you will, from the transcending of time, space, and the dimensions in between. Today, we...Rod. Rod 285 your hand. Rod. ROD!"

"ROD YOUR FUCKING HAND OH MY GOD!" I heard an unfamiliar scream.

I looked at my hands. My left hand had accidentally been touching the side of a deep fryer, and my fingers up to my palm had been submerged and glazed hot. The fryer. I was at work. It wasn't real at all. Was it? How long had my hand been searing like that? I couldn't grasp at the time what was happening. Looking back, I still can't. I was completely blown over, literally, clutching my hand, completely delirious as the staff stood over me, asking 'Where was the scientist?' McDoogle, the franchise's manager, of course happened be in that day, Aside the similarity of his name to my boss's, he was hardly as cheerful or as kind-hearted. I was clearly doped up, hurt myself from stupidity, and got fired on the spot.'

I remember lurching home the same way I had always gone before, pressing my throbbing hand to my chest. For the first time in all my passing I was noticed, and I was considered sick from my appearance alone. A leper. A grotesque. Passersby peeled away a path for me home, and I felt both gracious and insulted. I didn't care. More and more as I inched home, I wished it to not be just a dream. To be home again and walk through the bathroom door, and see all those faces that seemed so real, so true. I almost hugged Mr Patmont when I dashed up the stairs, who immediately reminded me that my 20 dollar check for the electric bill had bounced. I still didn't care. My hand was in agony but my mind was reeling uncontrollably with a new thirst beyond my description. I could only say, even now, it felt like it was the only real thing I had left anymore, no matter what it was. I was inspired.'

'I ground the key in and threw the door open. The apartment was dark, and nothing was on. Except the bathroom light, which grew dimly from under the door. I crept up and opened the door slightly to find the Doctor himself, reading the crossword, fully clothed and unchanged in attire, in a dry tub. He looked up at me from the paper, and then at my hand. For a moment, his face tightened in astonishment, then softened.'

"Well... how did that happen?"

'It's funny looking back even now. My hand burned to a crisp, and an unexplainable delusion. Neither of us could explain it, or anything that had happened thus far, but I knew it meant something, and even if he didn't act it, Doctor Rod did too.'

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5.

<3>

<2>

<1>

<music>

<cue anchor>

<Deborah Norville> "And 66 degrees and sunny on this lovely Thursday morning in New York City. It's June the 22nd, and welcome back to Today! I'm Deborah Norville and my guest today is, well, a phenomenon if we can say that <laughs>. He is responsible for the creation of many products and devices we use and seem to almost already take for granted. He has been called a statesmen, a diplomat, and he is the owner and CEO of PTEKK, or Propulsion Technologies International. Rod Andrews, thank you for coming."

<Rod Andrews> "It's a pleasure to be here Ms. Norville."

<Deborah Norville> "Now, I don't even know where to begin with all this here <laughs> there's so much I'd like to ask."

<Rod Andrews> "Take your time."

<Deborah Norville> "Well, I guess the first thing I think all of our viewers would like to know about is, how you discovered the innovation by Steve Patmont, and combined it with...oh my how do you say that?"

<Rod Andrews> "Polarized Magnetic Traction System <both laugh> I know. It seems like a lot I know, but... Mr. Patmont, my former landlord, was actually sitting on the design for his scooter and was waiting for an investor. And I in my spare time developed this magnetic system, which just seemed to go perfectly with this scooter that he had."

<Deborah Norville> "So it wasn't even designed originally for the scooter?"

<Rod Andrews> "Both our inventions, were completely separate from one another. And yet, they seemed to work perfectly together. Over the past 2 months alone with investments from groups like Carlyle, Lockheed-Martin, and various other corporations, we've managed to develop this for other vehicles entirely."

<Deborah Norville> "Vehicles like..."

<Rod Andrews> "Vehicles like cars, and trains. We're seeking, to completely revolutionize transportation, and transit in general. Today scooters, tomorrow flying trains."

<Deborah Norville> "And the changes you and your company are interested in: Are they limited to transportation?"

<Rod Andrews> "Not in the slightest...<leans forward> What if I were to tell you, all of you here and watching at home, <looks about, for effect>, PTEKK, in conjunction with many other American and International corporations, have succeeded in creating far more than even we had imagined possible. Inventions, that will revolutionize beyond that of just transportation"

<Deborah Norville> "<laughs> Well I'm already interested, could you give us some examples? I mean, I'm not sure if you're held to any patent agreements or security statements."

<Rod Andrews> "Ironically, that's another thing I've revolutionized, and...<chuckles> the board I had assembled, at least a cooperative from like-minded corporate entities, thought this was an awful idea, but...I just saw things falling apart here...And everywhere, I mean you report the news. Right? Well I watch the news at least but I also see the reaction to it, or even the idea of something, terrible happening, whether it's in front of us individually or not. I just couldn't...sit back anymore. So because much of this change must hatch from shared ideals or concepts, I've entered the PMTS, or <laughs> the magnet we discussed a minute ago, for an open patent. I only take one penny as copyright. It's to make it available, to anyone. Because these ideas must be tested, and changed to mold to a way of thinking which truly is futuristic."

"For example, we've already begun working on ways to improve entertainment, medical technology, robotic innovations.."

<Deborah Norville> "Wait, wait <laughs> I don't mean to interrupt. But...this is all so wild. I mean how have you reached these conclusions? Are you permitted to elaborate on this?"

<Rod Andrews> "Well for the sake of my corporate affiliates, I don't think I should elaborate too much. If I was to reveal everything then what else would they woo their shareholders with this fall? <Laughs> Don't worry, this technology is in the process of being tested and modified, specifically for consumer use. One of the main principles I signed off on to even create these partnerships, was to ensure that it wouldn't be used for military force. This technology, is for the benefit of everyone, and to bottle it up makes its usage imbalanced. That's another reason by the way, why I refused any extraneous profit on the patents."

<Deborah Norville> "And these, inventions, they're on the near horizon?"

<Rod Andrews> "Closer than you may think Ms. Norville <smiles>.

<Deborah Norville> "Wow, well now, I'd just like to say, I love, LOVE my Patmont hover-scooter. I ride it everywhere I can, it's so quiet and so responsive! Can we show a shot, of me riding that scooter?"

<rolls footage>

<Deborah Norville> <laughs> "Well I'm still getting the hang of it but there was something else I noticed, around the handles themselves. There weren't brakes but some type of, 'gyro' system? Am I saying that right?"

<Rod Andrews> "Yea it's another PTEKK innovation, which is a mechanism that activates the braking and acceleration of the scooter by leaning forward or backward by the pilot. Like if you want to stop you just pull and lean back. We just tried to make it as simple as possible."

<Deborah Norville> "I'm sure Steve Patmont is happy <laughs>"

<Rod Andrews> "Oh of course, he never has to worry about another rent check from me again that's for sure <laughs>"

<Deborah Norville> "Now, he's no longer your landlord because well, the success of your creation and work has made you both millionaires-"

<Rod Andrews> "Well I don't wanna-"

<Deborah Norville> "Well let's talk about this for a second if you don't mind."

<Rod Andrews> "Ok."

<Deborah Norville> "Now, you bought the building, where you live. A tenement building, and are refurbishing it. Are you planning on evicting any of your neighbors?"

<Rod Andrews> "I had no intention to whatsoever, I just saw my neighborhood sort of falling apart and I wanted to make it better, like it was built to be. I mean I know everyone out there wants that too in one way or another. Why wait?"

<Deborah Norville> "That's a very interesting perspective"

<Rod Andrews> "Thank you."

<Deborah Norville> "Let me ask you something else: You name, Rod Andrews, wasn't originally your name, was it?"

<Rod Andrews> "No actually, my original name was Rod Allen Patternik, but Andrews had a better ring to it. <laughs> It was also easier to spell."

<Deborah Norville> "And while I know that you're a CEO and President of a major corporation, do you have any plans in the future that don't necessarily entail running this company?"

<Rod Andrews> "Well I just don't think I have the time anymore really. It just seems that I was supposed do be doing something else. It just didn't feel right and still doesn't to think about it I guess, even if it's something that would be new or different for me. If that changes though I'll be sure to let you all know." <laughs>

<Deborah Norville> <laughs> Hopefully you'll find what you're looking for. Rod Andrews thank you for your time."

<Rod Andrews> "It was a pleasure to be here, thanks for having me"

<music>

<Deborah Norville> "Coming up we'll talk about the sweeping new wave of exercises and various other activities designed to lose weight, and your weekend weather forecast with Willard Scott, stay with us.

<fade to commercial>

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6.

"Ok, so what the fuck happened?" I asked, still breathless, nursing my hand and some ancient hot chocolate the Doctor had prepared from one of the barren cupboards. We had since adjourned from the tub as the Doctor had found it more uncomfortable than he had projected initially. He wasn't that kind of Doctor, but he had a knack for gauze and treating wounds. He was across from me now at my kitchen's crusty inherited dinette, fooling over a newspaper and groaning at my vocabulary or lack of it. I think I've been getting better honestly though.'

'He was always so angry when I'd use any expletive, not at its offense, but looking back, at how juvenile my understanding of language or my attempts at dialogue must have been. "Is profanity really necessary to decipher opinion or truth? Or to even express it? If you're willing to utilize such low standards, why not just beat your own chest and grunt? I must admit, even through your generosity and kindness have been prolific in delivery and resolute in respect, which is indicative of the highest of manners, I feel I must be frank and quite demeaning in saying; you're quite crude for a Rod." he said, sipping his cocoa with an extended pinky.

'I found myself giggling at his hoity-toity pinky. The doctor was more concerned that I was in shock from injury, and perhaps slight mental derangement. His smirk poked outwards behind his mug, which he set down, and continued his crossword confident that I was not dying or hurt any further. As I said earlier, he wasn't that kind of Doctor, but I personally think he missed his true calling. If there is such a thing. Maybe it was the lingering sting from the vat grease or the bubbling in my brain. The pain from my hand was as real as the dream it awakened me from. Even then I needed to be coaxed back with flagrant effort. To make a specific note Diary3.0, I just felt like messing with him. I didn't expect a lecture, or any of what happened next.'

"You'd really expect any less of me? Of what you see here?" I said.

'He didn't look at me. Instead he sipped his cocoa. I know now he was just egging me on, in his overtly-intellectual way, silencing me, with my own inability to cope. I was slightly urked at this, but I was hardly offended. I merely wanted to know more.'

"So, what. You think I'm capable of more than this? Of more than I've tried?"

'Still, silence. Even his sips were inaudibly smooth, the only noise from the tip of the mug as he set it back down on the table. Though my hand was still in pain, I found myself up and walking, pacing, back and forth throughout the cluttered, cramped kitchen. He still sat there, glazing over the puzzles and funnies. How could he not have an opinion regarding this? I knew, that he knew something. But maybe it was different than that, than simply knowing. Maybe he wasn't goading me on. Maybe at the time he truly didn't want to think of what I was capable of, and was happier sharing a moment free from anything he had already known. I didn't know then, and still don't now. But at the time, I wouldn't take silence for reason, or justification, for anything.'

"Capable? That's a funny word." he muttered, flipping to the other side of his paper to the junior jumble. For a person as smart as him, he was quite thorough and overly corrective of his puzzles. He still had the same newspaper, a souvenir from his arrival. "Words like that are best left as they are; Suggestions and nothing more. If I were to be specific at your capacity for example, or any others', I would be more than your fuel. I'd control your drive, your motivation, the very essence of yourself as a vehicle. Such things are beyond even me to dare to dream. It's far too much responsibility."

'I was cooling, but still wound up. "What do you call what happened just now, or before, but when I came home?" I asked.

'He looked at me square in the eye, then descended to my hand which rested uncomfortably on my hip. "You're referring to your hand?"

"That, and what I dreamed. What you knew when you saw my hand before. You had seen it before didn't you? But before I had arrived."

"I believe I said 'well...how did that happen', at least if I recall correctly." He was right.

"I've seen many things before and that's one of the few things that didn't surprise me." he said. "Your hand, is proof that while I can influence others with my opinions, derived from the coupling of my feelings and thoughts, you yourself, are still independent. Your hand is still, your own. You had a dream with me in it? That is definitely fascinating. However, it sounds as though your dream-like state, burned your hand and made you lose your job. I did not burn your hand, you did. The vat did. The oil did. Your manager did. Many things contributed to it or encouraged it to happen. But I certainly did not."

"But the dream! The dream was beyond influence wasn't it?"

'He gazed at me, curving his lip jovially. "It was your dream, much as it was your hand. I cannot control your hand or what it does, but if I lobbed this at you," he said, quickly picking up the dinette's pepper shaker, tossing it into the air, haphazardly.'

'I caught it with my undamaged hand. He smiled, continuing, "All I, or anyone else can do for one is act as an influence. Whether it be a spark within, or a concise plan which takes hold as a result, I merely inject the opinion. The grinding start-up of introspection. Or possibly the conflict itself. But that's all I can do. I can merely throw the shaker, not force or commit another to catch it, or track its path. That is not my place. It would be arrogant to do such. Only arrogance, a complete removal of rational and logical prowess, can serve as an example for some who yearn to see better, or at least reach for it."

"Did I care that I tossed that shaker into the air?" he continued, "Did I seem to care that the flakes and shells of peppercorns would be strewn about this kitchen? Would you have known the difference if I had? Could you see my mimicry? Or was that an illusion too? It wasn't, either before you caught the shaker, or after you had clutched it. But what was, was the initial output; your own drive to automatically retrieve it?"

'I felt lost, but he went on. "Your own reminder; A mnemonic inclination at the behest of your mind. You caught the shaker, nearly as quickly as I carelessly discarded it. But why? You made it happen with your desire for its preservation, or perhaps at stifling my words or attempting to catch me off guard. One way or another, you chose to catch it. It was an opportunity I presented, and caused. Such is the same with all opportunities. You knew that, and remembered."

'I shook my head in disagreement. "Remember? Wha...You weren't there. I mean, you were there, in the dream, but not..."

"Alright, let's backtrack for a moment." he said. "Why don't you just describe this dream to me in detail."

'I should have been honest then, I know that now. The Doctor, while knowing my limitations in understanding, knew that whatever had happened, it had a profound impact on me. He had no idea. "Nothing, never mind. I don't think you'd understand. Just a random dream."

He stopped me. "Nothing is beyond your understanding. As an animal, as a human being, as a fellow Rod. All things, can be investigated. All things can be described one way or another. It's difficult, but so is just about everything else from one perspective or another."

'He sipped his mug further, blue eyes darting up from the paper at me. "And random," he said, setting the cocoa down "Is a word as well. A word which commutates its purpose. It's not meant to explain, it's meant to inspire, at least why I believe it was created. Especially if you remember the most important part of that word, as correlated by my appearance, your hand, your actions, everything you've seen."

"Which is?"

'He let his paper fall flat, and kneaded his hands together, staring at his woven fingers. "That random, being a word, was created from nothing, to describe something. It was never supposed to be the word used to conclude, or to fully convince. It was designed to not be enough, because it is not enough. It never was for anyone who knew otherwise. Random, is used to inhibit, to hinder, to force misunderstanding by not cultivating its existence. If 'random', truly is just a word, then its value is equally non-existent to describe things that are beyond words. Things limited to feelings."

'I sat motionless, as he went on. "When I used the word, believe, for example, it has some weighty implications. Believe is a word, much like random, but has been used more often than not, simply to exploit. When I form a belief, at least in my world, I couple the thoughts in my head with the feelings in my heart, my soul, wherever you contain and gauge them. Belief in my world is highly illogical, is the notion of the soul is not calculable nor one of merit. But I melded them, much as is my personal practice in my universe, and their collaboration can produce many great things. More often that not, I've seen the acceptance of belief, but only of half, or a miniscule amount of it. This detracts from the open doctrine, which follows no known doctrine. The dogma of it all, becomes evident to both provider and listener. It draws a line in the sand, based upon simply what it appears to be. Belief, is proof that a word can be used as a force alone. So if you can create a force from something that was nothing, or half of its intended purpose, does it remain nothing? Or half?"

"No?" I guessed.

"Well, force, like the depth of words themselves, means nothing. In a different sense from what I've found however, what I've seen." his eyes widening as he spoke, sipping the last of his chocolate before resting the mug. "The force, as people would call it, leads to nothing beneficial. Nothing lasting. Nothing true. Except, the will."

"But since you can stimulate the will, and harness your own internal mechanisms to drive yourself forward, anything that simply beguiled or embittered such a will would still last in such a way, but its lasting effect would hardly be beneficial. You cannot force inspiration, much like you cannot force the will. If you do either, you will be left with a result of questionable capacity and stature. In other words," he glared at me, hands intense, "A false will. Manufactured. Something not your own, and of someone elses' design, usually intended for the benefits of those it doesn't harm, its devious impact unknown to them."

'I sat back. I think at the time I understood, even if it's still more than a little confusing now. I was being spared something, at that time, that I wouldn't want to know, or even want to tolerate. But at that time, I wanted more. This was a rush of information, so much to process at once, even if I was a Rod and shared the same embodiment as this person before me. The Rodd-iites, in that simple lucid vision, had been my anchor I'd been seeking, and had been lacking. Family. Friendship. I had an identity, beyond that of a mechanical man, bent on serving fries. I had felt welcomed, inducted within something I wanted to be a part of, to be proud of. "But everything I saw in the dream, it was so real."

'He sighed deeply. "Do you truly rely upon only seeing? And furthermore, reduced to using one sense within a dream?" The words eluded him for some time, until he finally, and seemingly exasperated, told me what he felt, was my problem: "You're quite a disappointment my friend."

'Now I was getting angry. This guy, in my subconscious at least, was more than warm and welcoming. More and more since our conversation began, he had been stodgy and irritable. If he wasn't so chipper for most of the time, it would be more evident on his character.'

"I'm a disappointment?"

"Yes. Yes I'm afraid so." he said, frowning slightly. He went back to his jumble or horoscope or whatever he was reading now. I was pretty annoyed that he'd make such a distinction. I mean, for someone whose twin appears out of the blue, and by the blue, I mean their entire life, only to live like a lamprey, and a royal one at that! I know now where his intentions lie, and my immaturity shows with saying so, but even now it makes my blood boil. But I was, curious, and I'm still glad I was.'

"Is this still because I worked at McDonald's?" I quipped.

"Oh, quite the contrary actually. Don't you remember I was fascinated that you worked there. But...never mind."

"No really. Please."

'My concern showed. For my sake, he elaborated. "Well, it just didn't suit you really. I mean, in my universe it requires a license, merely to work the oil vats and the various ovens. You need a year's worth of sanitation training and systems management. Most times they're not even hiring cooks just robotic technicians and diagnostic specialists. To cook meals, you need a certificate of culinary satisfaction. Mere satisfaction! Not even excellence, a word which truly means nothing here and seems to be a foreign notion. Even simply being satisfying and not excellent, the food is popular in my universe still. It's just handled in a completely different manner. More of an assembly line, with more of the responsibility."

"It's why the majority of such work in my universe is conducted and controlled by machines, robots, and systems that we created to make it simpler and easier. It also raised the price of the foods in comparison to here, but what you'd consider fast food here, is a luxurious statement in my universe, reserved for the highest diplomats and social dignitaries, or anyone trying to make a name for themselves or get press attention. 'Fast Food', as you would call it, is acceptable because it takes time and creates a format for making conversation. It's really not that fast at all. Most of us, who don't share such a dignified sense of dining or adhering to a simple slice of the past, simply have come to eat various protein supplements and mineral liquids. Nothing to taste or savor, pleasures reserved for the highest of classes." he said, looking over at my hand. "In my universe, well, you wouldn't have been working at a McDonald's anyway because you'd be me, but if I chose to live dangerously and get a job there, that injury never would have happened. Making peoples' food in this universe may be what you'd call a circus, but in mine it's a whole other circus. One of systems and management. Heartless. Besides, there are too many safety protocols and rules in place to prevent even a five second delay." he rose, pacing to the curtains, peering out.'

"People, in this universe it would seem, don't value one another like they did for me in mine. Or at least as they appeared to formally. But we, share the past too. It's a rarely discussed topic on my world, but I've read the stories, I've seen the tales and the damage done. I know what a gunshot is, or was, at least by definition and description. Murder, slaughter, genocide, we had those in my history as well. But that's my point: It was my history. Was. To see you, roaming the streets and back to here for shelter, is too primal. Too primitive. Especially seeing the contrast of two completely different working environments and perspectives, though shared by the same name, in two different but similar universes. To see you devalued, depressed under the weight of an uncaring and cruel world, is heart-wrenching. To know it's being done to everyone here in one way or another, is crushing me, and I haven't been here long."

'The streetlights must have been flickering on now, quaking in the icy gusts, glowing the curtains. "All the mystery that I thought I'd find here, is anything but logical. Anything but reasonable. It's a mystery, don't get me wrong, but a mystery the likes of which is simply, well, bizarre."

"How do you mean? I know it's not exactly the same as your universe or anything."

"Not at all in fact." he replied. "It's nothing like it at all. That's why it was so... alluring to me. This planet, still not met with conflict that emboldens it. Entices it to strive to rebuild. To recreate. In my universe, we had experienced many different conflicts, dynamic problems which required the minds of many. Many of these minds, were lost in such conflicts however, and our perspective became limited as a result. We skewed our own vision, inadvertently, for a gain merely to supplant the growing needs of comfort. Our minds were devoted to science and political and social reform of course, but..." he seemed like he was reaching now, "We fused our polarized societies, recognizing their practical uses, which like my universe, yours is similar, which are the tools utilized to forge the molds of collaboration and dialogue."

'He seemed like he wanted to keep going, but just turned and squinted as he gazed out the window. It had been hours since I had come home, jobless and crippled, and the sun had glimmered in its passing along the narrow escapes of the side streets. In the fading light and iridescent background, I couldn't help but stare at this, me. When he had found me, his enthusiasm was contagious, and would probably have powered this apartment, if not this building. It was something I hadn't seen in years. This notion that regardless of how bad it all was, how awful it all looked, how miserable, decrepit hopeless it all seemed, it's not over for anyone. Anyone at all. It's just not limited to our perspective anymore.'

'Accepting this, even though the searing reminder of this whole world lost me a paycheck and sensibility, was worth it all already. More. People everywhere, had someone like me, like this Doctor me. Like the other Rodd-iites. They were all alive, or dead, but possible. And even possible is better than naught. But it also did something more. All the conversations that I had had with this me, though cryptic and earth-shattering, made me realize that this version of myself, if he was me, had it right. Or better than me, and was on a plane of thought that I could see, but not experience like him.'

'I just didn't feel smart enough. I could follow him to a point, but I always tried to stay quiet, to let him stew and bubble over with elaborated and flowing thought. It was, refreshing. It was like looking into a mirror that reflected your ideal features; traits that you leave unmentioned from simply forgetting, or not realizing just who you are. How you wanted to look, and feel. Now I was watching the energy that reawakened this dormant sense of humanity in me, slipping away. It was as disheartening for me to see, as it must have been for him to even gaze upon the disproportionate complexities that my world offered his mind.'

'He strode back to the table, letting the curtain flutter back to lifelessness. He sat back at the dinette, but instead of picking up his newspaper, he curled his lips at me, and spoke. "I want to make something clear to you. While I may seem gloomy about the prospects of what has amounted to be, at least for me, an extended vacation, I'm hopeful. I know I hardly seem empathic regarding my state, being that it's a very popular idea in my universe, but for the moment I cannot be. I see visions being squelched, and dreams trod asunder. Not even from arrogance, or lack of imagination. But from just blatant fear, and disrepute or distrust for the very thing people can offer: themselves."

"I have seen these towering structures, the nest of the elites in your world, relics in my time, yet evidence in both our universes of commonality. One which extends to a creation, and a vision beyond us. Detrimental in both it would seem, but the advent of which was the same. It was upward mobility. The sky was the limit. And if that can work for greed it sure as hell, pardon my usage...be used for passion as well." I laughed a little at his pardon but he pressed on.'

"Passion, like greed is a force, and when I had described a force earlier, it tends to be a tool used for an individual gain, and not one for a greater purpose. We, that I should say, those from my universe, still find the idea of creative thought to be a mystery. A mystery because, it was illogical. Such things are left to backward and shadowy dens of my world. They were regarded as hypocritical, unnecessary, even corrupted. Crypts full of the relics of time gone past. No museums respect the ludicrous yet impassioned innovations or writings or films. They lack humor, or dislike the taste of it. Laughter and science just don't go well together it seems, and it breaks me, even when I think of my home now. They respect those forgone icons of our past like your world seems to respect some of its people; with disregard, disdain, or misplaced caution.

"To be frank, they, your people, seem to treat your world's past the same as well. All these buildings, neglected and overcome by time. The statues, I've seen of heroes gone past in your parks are painted upon, tainted with disrespect. As though their very memory wasn't within the sculptor or crafter who made it! Even the very park itself that I walked would be a mess in the eyes of a complete and utter slob!" he nodded furiously, "Yes! I did walk many times since I've been here and you've been toiling at your work, to see this world of yours. I've read your papers, well, your neighbor's, and I've seen the structure to which you organize on the surface of things. I'm beginning to understand more and more of what the differences are here, as opposed to my home."

"This is another correlation I've found between our worlds. We share a something more. Unnoticed biology. A primal root in our glands, or cells, a leftover byproduct of a time when such emotions and sentiments were connected to a conflicted memory. A shared pain that lasted generations, and was cultivated from a cyclical and near repetitive ideology. A system, which itself became measurable, originally created to lead to apex of some harmonious change; but never came. That's what I see when I look out there. In your world."

'My head was swimming and his flow didn't abate. "Someone, or something, must have created this, or what you see out there, and kept it as it is now." I raised my eyebrow slightly, which caused him to laugh for the first time in a while.'

"I don't mean that type of thing. While I think your governments and the people of your universe are advanced, and are advancing by the hour, minute, day... they're hardly capable of the creation of this dynamic system as it is now, merely riding the wake of its corruption, from simply ascertaining how it 'seems' to function. It's in dire need now, your universe, your world I mean, simply because it lacks the ability to break free of its cycle, its wave. It's questionable who, or what would have made this come to be, but if it's as calculable as I've noticed from my short stay, it's repeatable enough to be controlled for gains that conflict the value of the future, and what the word 'value' even means. The value, in many ways, of people. Like you and I."

"An organism that cannot divide against itself, yet cannot find resolution within itself. It's a conflict, with which I am unfamiliar. I came to see what was different, what you were like, and now I find myself wanting to leave. But more importantly, wanting to do...just...to do something! Anything!" he flailed. "Humanity wasn't designed to be reduced to this. We had had our experiences which molded us. We are that result! We shared those horrid events! Our universes, yours and mine! They didn't function to serve their purposes, even for those who were the most committed of deviants, the grandest of cruel, if they didn't yield a benefit for all to share."

"And it goes beyond greed, it extends beyond any agrarian or ecological perspective, since my Earth is lush and still has problems with its sense of rationality, identity, even its humor, or, whatever you call it here. It's that there's a silent balance, a custodian of nature on both our worlds, like ants or bugs. It gives much but asks little. To understand such a balance, to know it would be a feat. To know it well enough to work in tandem with it, while not controlling it or burdening it, would be a masterpiece. An evolution in thought and being itself."

"I thought your world was far more, 'dynamic' than mine. Wouldn't you have made peace with bugs or something by now?" I quipped.

"Not yet," he replied, unnerved, "but, we did manage to identify and experiment with many different compounds and pheromones that insects and bugs use. Earthworms too. Everything. We try to sample everything to find a connection with it. Biology is the most common scientific endeavor on my Earth, and I studied all the fields to the best I could achieve."

'I was intrigued, as I was awestruck. He had talent, verbal prose and poise the likes hadn't been seen on my world in what would be perceived as generations, at least from my level of academic experience. Textbooks always had these blurbs of people who changed the world. Brief sentences, culminating their gifts upon the world, but never went much further. Hearing him, gave me a feeling, as if I was living that text, and seeing that blurb. If he was common in his world, he was rare in ours. I hadn't heard him mention anything really about himself in context with his own world often.

"We have analyzed much of our world, but never enough. Much of it was destroyed before I was even born. We were lucky we had been to be perfectly honest, in the midst of what had happened. As lucky as the word itself came to be, to 'mean.' In the eyes of my elders, there was no guide, other than the science of it all; the egg-headed yet brainless complacency with simplicity prevailed. At least from what I had gathered, learning about the past. Our past."

'He leaned back. "But even in the past, we find the future. And in the future, should be found the past. But if it is not, or out of sight, that must mean that we hadn't learned, or gained much of what was lost, or even considered, no matter how outlandish or unconsidered. The damage, to this world and to my own, lies in a past which lay beyond memory, or at least measurably such. We..."

'There was a sharp and excited rap at the door. I nearly fell out of my chair, with Dr. Rod frozen mid-sentence. Neither of us moved an inch. There was another knock, followed by a familiar, and giddy voice.

"Rod! Are you in there?" Mr. Patmont's voice muffed by the door.

'I stood up, but as I did, the Doctor whispered to me "He's expecting me, allow me the honor." He rose and brushed past me, and motioned that I stand out of sight. I did so, and he straighted out, licked his teeth, and threw the door open. He stood in the doorway, inhibiting the entrance of the super.

"Rod! Wonderful to see you again, you seem better than you did before."

"Yes thank you!" Rod, "I", said.

"Say I don't mean to bug ya but, that check you gave me for the electric bounced."

"That's unfortunate, and I do apologize. Please, take this money and don't fret over it further."

'I could hear the gratitude through the door itself.'

"Was there any other reason you had arrived?" Rod continued.

"Oh yes of course! I'd like to say that I am in fact deeply interested in the sale of my patent, or at least a collaboration of some sort."

"Splendid! We'll talk of it further. Thank you again Mr. Patmont.

'He closed the door, turning to me, grinning wide.'

"What was that all about? By the way where did you get the money to pay off the electric?" I asked.

'He shifted back to the dinette, seating himself where he had begun. "During my travels, I searched for a currency exchange of some sort, but was met with disdain at the closest bank I encountered from here, just to the north that way. I knew there had to be some method to exchange whatever I had on me, which wasn't much, admittedly, but I just needed to find it. Incidentally, I came across what you'd refer to as a 'pawn shop.'"

"A pawn shop?"

"Yes. Apparently you..."

"I know what a pawn shop is, what did you pawn?"

"Oh, well in this universe, silver is incredibly valuable still, as most minerals would tend to be on Earths, especially this one. I had an abundant supply, thanks to the majority of what my Earth would consider jewelry, which is frowned upon if its not worn in my society. I was quite pleased to sell it here though, if I may be so bold."

'I was stunned. "What kind of jewelry?"

"I had a watch, but that was a nostalgia trinket. There was a ceremonial necklace I had to wear, as did many of my people. Also I have this, but I'd only take it off if it was absolutely necessary" he said, wriggling a silver bracelet. I'd know this device well later on Diary3.0.'

"For what reason?"

'He looked away, as if caught off guard, looking upwards then responded "Startup funds."

"For? I mean that necklace was from your world, didn't it have any value to you?"

'I had used that word 'value' again. The Doctor seemed to lapse for a moment. "It wasn't valuable to me in the slightest. In my universe it was a mark of punishment."

'I was surprised. Punishment here is reserved for hardened criminals. The Doctor was hardly such. "Punishment for what?"

"For thinking deeply, too deep to allow. Too deep for reason, and for no reason to serve a logic. Thinking for the sake of it, and the catalyst was feeling. Punishment, to serve as a reminder to others that thought of such nature caused much of what ruined the past, and made it a blemish, rather than a record of what was, or what could be." he met my shocked expression, "Even when a world, or a future is logical and scientifically pure, it's not. Purity is completion. It is its essence. To form a world based upon the polarities of any thought, is at base, absurd. Dangerous. A responsibility which few should ever be handed the opportunity, by divinity, or what you'd call 'random'."

"Which brings me back to my other point," he continued on, "As I was saying before Mr. Patmont's anticipated, yet unexpected arrival, it brings us back to your dream. Your vision. I don't remember exactly what you were getting at, but you seemed to be suggesting that I was solidifying your resolve, strengthening your grasp upon something, but something that wasn't there."

'His eyes widened, staring me down. "We share a past, like have previously mentioned. We cannot change that. Not yet. But together, we can make a shift today. A change, which alters the landscape of your world's horizons, and that of its people. All the imbalances of other mistakes will be shaken off, and the we can begin to shape this universe, yours, into something that would rival my own. All of that, with this!" he proclaimed, rolling out plans that I hadn't even noticed were there.'

'Laid out, on the table, was PTEKK's first design ever produced: Mr. Patmont's scooter, what seems like eons before devices like you Diary3.0. But not just his scooter. It had been 'adjusted', and tweaked by the good doctor. In their universe apparently, they had managed to find a way to reverse the polarities of magnets, and utilize controls to make them inversely opposing to various minerals and substances. Dr. Rod ranted to me, for what seemed like hours about the applications it could withstand in his universe, and it wasn't even his own design. Mr. Patmont existed in Rod's universe, and had made the scooter long before Rod was even born, long before hover technology existed in his universe either.'

'He went on explaining his device, and how it would revolutionize thinking and the world, I couldn't help but feel that this was more than chance. The feeling, that...indescribable sensation. The same that the Doctor must have felt running into me. The same as I felt having that dream. I'm feeling it again, but there's no dream involved. This is real, and it's actually happening.'

'But there was something else. At the time I couldn't put my finger on it, but it lingered. It was like a shadow in a dimly lit room. To best describe what it was, now...I'd have to say it was remembering. I remembered this, but I didn't know how or why. And I was afraid to ask.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

7.

'I took off the wireless microphone and shook Ms. Norville's hand. For a television personality she seemed pretty nice. I wheeled about, trying to dodge any barrier between me and the door, just yards from my company appointed Mercedes and driver. The line leading there had been blockaded, with poster waving Today fans and ravenous press dammed by a line of navy blue police. I jumped into the sedan, and we took off, with a motorcade guiding us out of Manhattan blaring.'

'The sun glimmered through the skyline, pattering its rays on the city. It had been roughly two months, and Dr. Rod, myself, and to a lesser degree Mr. Patmont, had changed the world already. 'From the small little crapshack we began in, we now not only controlled the building itself, but most of America, continents, north and south. Mr. Patmont's idea was just a money funnel. The gyroscope hover scooter was the tip of the iceberg, a vehicle which served two purposes: To transport people around, obviously, (even though the Doctor himself felt that it would be obsolete soon one way or another,) and to bring about scientific and financial dominance to PTEKK, our brainchild, the Doctor's and mine.'

'After that fateful day which was so long ago now, where dream and reality merged near seamlessly, aside from my 'cooked' hand, we had begun to make new products and patents. Drawn from the Doctor's own imagination, or 'just his memory, with a twist' as he called it.' Just hours after we had bought, and promptly sold the scooter's patent, along with a couple other of the Doctor's ideas, things took off. We had received letters from over fourteen corporations the next day alone. Business conglomerates, hats in hand, literally bowing at my presence, and my engineering and scientific prowess. At least so they thought.'

'I'm glad that the sub-vocal transmitters had worked. Unbeknownst to the viewers at home Diary3.0, I had on that day, and still do, an implant, well, hardly such, more of an aid in my left ear. Occasionally, I feel an acoustic 'buzz', if can describe it as such. It trembles a bone inside my ear, and somehow and without a power source, is able to deliver certain thoughts from the scientist himself, to me. It was built months prior to PTEKK's coronation Doctor Rod himself. It was a commodity in his universe, much like the scooter was in ours, so it was easy at least for him to construct it from memory. He had made it in secret as well I should note, as this in his opinion was 'dangerous' if it became a consumer product here. I haven't the foggiest how it works, even still now that's it's been in there for what feels like eons.'

'The Today Show was merely a marketing suggestion of mine. The Doctor agreed, recognizing I think the value of the media in my world, as it being more of a motivator than an informer. He from what I noticed, was alarmed by it, and was glad it seemed that I took to the what he considered 'mundane' task of being the public voice of this semi-secret venture. I also think it's because he was so fascinated with it, that he felt it would be unfair to deny its challenge, in some way, even if its methods were questionable. Perhaps that's why he preferred that I take responsibility for both our actions, and act as the representative of both our minds in public. He saw me as somewhat of a 'scrapper', saying that the role of PTEKK's visual proprietor and mascot 'suited me' and would 'win me some vanity.'

'At first, I was against this. I was even willing to make the suggestion that we simply were long lost twins, reunited years apart. He felt this opened the door for potential questions, and with it conflict. I understood that my world, my people, would not readily accept the idea of another them, anywhere, without some sort of riot spilling over. At least not yet. Since the people of my world were reliant upon seeing, he felt, it was best that they simply see one, rather than be exposed to a even a suggestion of duality.'

'This word he used, duality. I understand it the more I hear it. At least when I tried to think like my Doctor counterpart. If people truly accepted, and relied solely upon what they saw, then to suggest another me would polarize the idea further. It would be seen as a farce; a side-show with a predictable ending they had already experienced. What they would see, would be based on that notion. Twins, suggesting a break, or a consciousness snapped in two; difference in emotional function, or even of visible humanity. He was right in thinking that people would recognize it as such. It's in our cells' memory to expect it, not even something we can describe with words. I know that now.'

'The motorcade revved on, lights only, but it still raised fanfare. How could it not? The scientist and I, well, me specifically, had been raised high in my world's social hierarchy. Ninety-degree ascension. Rungs of a social ladder skipped, merely for converting what the Doctor viewed as 'common sense to currency'. When the board members of PTEKK saw me, they didn't see the scientist. They weren't supposed to, and he knew it. We had used the funds generated from the scooter, to buy a small manufacturing concern which had been one of the many victims of economic stagnation. Once before it had been briefly shuttered, it had produced plastic party favors or something like that. Upon our inception, it had since bloomed. My refusal to fire or lay off workers after taking control was the first step in earning their trust, and it was a wise choice given our backing and products. But that wasn't my total concern.'

'I was there to lay the brickwork of this new company. The structure itself would be mandated and supervised by me. We certainly had the man-power at PTEKK to make anything a reality...and in conjunction with various government and military related concerns, we were almost guaranteed a growth in budget every fiscal quarter, and leeway into almost any practice, runway, test-firing scenario, or simulation. Yes it's true Diary3.0. Through no choice, other than a lack of one, we had sold our wares to the military. Well we didn't openly sell them weapons or build them, but the Doctor certainly designed them, and with my help, found their way to the highest bidder.'

'Doctor Rod knew this was a mistake. Even I did. But the problem wasn't necessarily that we did it, it's that we had to do it. There were no other venues within my universe to make it happen. He knew, much like I did, that it was best to simply not ask for much, and give just as little. Billions here and there were a trifle for the weapons manufacturers, security contractors, and the Federal Government though, and we both found ourselves neck deep in notes, assurances, with no interest or dividends to pay back. Ever.'

'In fact, all of the technology, every last piece we sold and have used at PTEKK, was derived not from our scientists, our board, or even my mind, but from that of Doctor Rod himself. Our 'scientists' were some of the best lackeys I've met. The majority of them were more than qualified for the position, but weren't given any assignments or tasks, simply because, well, it wasn't necessary. Our science department was in the apartment building, inside the Doctor's memory, not in some aerodynamics tunnel or in some lab. If anything, they loved the job because it gave them opportunities to work on their own ideas, theses, or just to goof off. But they had their uses I suppose.'

'For example, when the faulty recycled wiring of the second generation City-Bot resulted in a total system shutdown across the Eastern Trans-Electrical grid for twelve hours straight, they served as the cannon fodder for the press. An entire coastline of a country wanted blood. I didn't want to fire them, the board did for me. Still, at the time I offered them a severance package. I felt guilty, and it was one of the last times I did a business strategy without asking Doctor Rod first. When I had initially told him, he simply rested his hand on his chin, and muttered "These things happen." The board was less than compassionate, and immediately sensed crisis. I thought otherwise, and of course, I was wrong.

It wound up resulting in a copyright infringement dispute, on part of our former scientific staff, whose lawyers amounted the severance package to 'an admission of guilt' if I remember correctly. There was a brief scandal, with alleged and rather self-incriminating testimony on part of one of our scientists.'

''Ironically, my head attorney lived in 3-14 aka PTEKK Legal, rent free after I employed him. I used to think he was a wolf-man, until I discovered he was merely passionate about his work. And gin. I can't even remember his face, but one of fired employees accused the government in open court of collusion with PTEKK on the highest levels, and that all our secret scientific work was done in a tenement building outside Manhattan. The wolf-man tore into the courtroom, personally, and the scientists themselves became subject to damages they owed PTEKK, as well as myself, in personal damages. I rarely saw him at all, let alone watched him 'hunt', and this was the first time I had witnessed a legal mauling. Doctor Rod merely observed updates from the apartment on television, relying upon the courtroom sketch of our attorney. The doctor said to me later of our lawyer, "His bottle is the moon, and it's always full." I always wondered if he was also implying that the wolf-man was himself an optimist.

'But it was an unabashed victory, televised and popularized in an failed attempt to discredit our work, a straw man lobbed in a hail mary by clusters of millionaires unhappy with my upward momentum. For the first time in a while, I think I was beginning to take pride in who I was.'

'Over the year, we did our best with our corporate sponsors, who were more than happy to lend me privacy and continued funding, even though I had become half of a shut in. I was certainly not Howard Hughes, or any other millionaire who had gone crackers, but that's only because I didn't rely upon consultancy with myself, though as crazy as it may sound, I should have learned to. I had Doctor Rod Bandever for that. Besides, my reality hadn't been kind to me, and while the showering of artificial affection may have allured some, I knew my focus had to remain. There were always new problems on the horizon.'

'The discrepancies many had, for the most part, was the structuring and the creation of the system for all which we, or I should say PTEKK, proposed. For the first time in a long time, an American company had an idea, even if it was a new name and face on the corporate landscape. One that suggested sweeping changes, and had the money and clearance to back them. Everyone wanted a say in it, or to propose an idea. But the real issue I ran into being the new 'lightning rod', was that I was not only the person who people brought ideas to; I was the one who people vented to about others' being wrong.'

'Many people, and organizations specifically, thought that their voices weren't being represented. Inviting these people for a dialogue had set back our initiatives for over 3 months, close to a full fiscal quarter. In that time, you'd think there'd be commonality, or at least respectful dialogue and discussion. Hardly. At some of the shareholder meetings, I've seen in my past better behaved children.'

'Even our sponsors, commanding even the lock step of my world's governments, could not agree to basic principals. For example, there was an increase in the heated debates surrounding not just who should receive the bids for such technological usages, but who should have control of the rights. Porsche and Saab, arguing over who gets the usage to various aerodynamic innovations made on a napkin by the Doctor himself (though they thought it was my own work of course.) City Grid engineers arguing with Bell Telephone as to who has to rip up the ground and fix it, but more importantly, who gets the credit. Dr. Rod's idea to have a new base technology available patent-free, was creating problems. Sharing, was a foreign concept to corporations, desperate to make an identity, yet still pandering to steely-eyed shareholders.'

'There were driver organizations, AAA and MADD all clamoring in to be involved with re-writing the flying car driving code. The government was pressing assertively, yet respectfully, to take control of a media connection device we had established and run on computer systems for all people. Wireless power was a target of Electrical Utilities as being unfair and monopolized. Smaller car and plane manufacturers, previously lucrative enterprises, now littered the doorsteps of my building with writs and civil suits in thick, uniform brown envelopes. But, as quickly as they're deposited, someone from either PTEKK Legal, or one of our subsidiary law firms comes along to examine and refute it.'

'Somehow however, in the span of less than a year, I had taken over the rudder for people who had worked their entire lives to earn such a position, and yet I felt like a half-wit in their presence alone. When I'd stand beside the president himself, Ronald Reagan, and he'd drone on about 'how production in America would continue unabated, and how the trickling effect of tax dollars would right society from the unbridled growth of its base, its companies and manufacturers, it sounded fine to me. But then out of nowhere, I'd hear the sub vocal cackling of Dr. Rod, offering his own social commentary on the president's words. It wasn't enough that I had to look these people in the face, but that I had to do it pretending to be something I wasn't.'

'Hearing more scoffs from within, not my own, no matter who the company and bouncing 'round my eardrum, made me feel worse. These people may have been smart, but even they were being duped by someone half their prowess, half their ability to comprehend. And how? By being outfoxed and outwitted, by a shadow of what the really saw. I couldn't help but feel included in a grand design of some sort, but at the same time bitter; to the very thing that had propelled me there.'

'Soft-eyed old 'Ron', as he wanted me to refer to him, shook my head vigorously saying that 'I had made his job look easy, and that he owed me one,' like those words were anything but. The man had managed to secure a third tenure, overriding the constitution to remain in power. It was a near landslide victory through the house and senate to allow it, in the ever growing fear of becoming a 'Red Nation,' or looking like we were all made of another color to avoid a fight. In retrospect I can't fault the man, much as I can fault myself. He was just completely keen, focused on a stability of his own design. Everyone feels that way sometimes. To be honest, being the fellow lightning rod he was, it showed. I felt bad for him, and it seemed like he pitied me for my future. If only he knew.'

'Still, looking back even he didn't secure his victory on his own. Sure he had the congress and senate in line it seemed, but it seemed like it was an abatement of fear on their part. An alleviation, something I felt from all of them, whenever I'd be around. It's hard to even picture Diary3.0, but in our universe, the universe of your manufacture and mine, I had risen to a status unlike that achieved by any man since the great conquerors of time forgotten, and I had barely so much as picked up a telephone.'

'I should make note, what I had gathered, at least from his rant what only seemed like days prior, that our universes were alike, but simply 'orbited' at different levels, or 'waves' in comparison to one another. Much of what probably would have been created 'naturally' in my universe, was standard and outdated in the universe of Doctor Rod. In retrospect Diary3.0, I should have been more vigorous in ensuring that we didn't actually damage the framework of my time, as best as I can feebly understand it. However, according to my counterpart, if I recall correctly, "Your people seem to damage the framework of their reality every day. Who are we to know the natural creators of things if they're lost, from a lack of drive to commit to a future of knowing, and being, rather than one or the other." He was so goddamn cryptic about everything. He had his reasons I suppose.'

'Still, the perks were endless. I was on the speed-dial, a PTEKK patent, of seventy presidents, most of them countries. I had a company vehicle on standby, with two armed escorts to match. Wardrobes, boxes of computers, millions in offerings simply left on my doorstep by people and powers desperate for my attention and love. As I'd gaze out the filthy unchanged curtains, avoiding all I could, I noticed my neighbors standing around. These people, forgotten or simply not as vital to these donors, simply watched these crates and pallets stack outside my door. To my amazement, they didn't so much as approach. Like me, they merely watched the circus at my doorstep.'

'It had even made the residents avoid me altogether, even when I had reached out to them at the behest of Dr. Rod. I had attended council meetings, with great fanfare, not by choice mind you, but it's hard to do anything when you revolutionize thinking in the eyes of a televised world, but a world where the television for most is separated by a pane of glass, or some barrier of their own creation. Their meetings were far from what I had seen at the shareholder's meetings for other subsidiary companies and my own. People were respectful and courteous. They had more at stake than simply $433.50 dollars a share, (that day's trade of PTKINT), but a share in something, well, something I just didn't get at the time. I guess they just felt disconnected from me, even though I lived on their block, and had probably seen each of them many times a day. And I had always felt disconnected.'

'Dr. Rod had said, 'It's best to know our neighbors', which was a good idea since it allowed me to find our new attorney. But I think he meant to simply know, like 'to know what one is capable of' I think that type of thinking removed us somehow. They seemed aimless as me, but had the courage to see beyond similarities and join with the differences. Looking back, they were more like me than even the doctor wanted to admit, at least in word or thought, simply because it may have made me more sympathetic, and less apt for a mission I did not yet understand.'

'These people over time would come to be happy, or at least content with what I offered, and not question my intentions, not just because of an alleviation of responsibility on their parts. But because they seemed to respect, or had some desire to see fully, what I, and candidly the scientist, had proposed all along. And that respect only made it feel worse. If I had the stomach for drinking then, I'd have sought wisdom with the wolf-man, and most of this would probably have been averted. As I was considering the embrace of a bottle, something I'd never done or thought of really, we had arrived back in front of my apartment, well, office.'

'Its original red hue had been glazed over with a beige brown, which contrast it starkly to the other buildings it lined up against, probably because it wasn't as run down. The hedges and overgrowth had been trimmed down along the boundary lines of the building, because our subcontracting company had received complaints about trimming any further from neighbors. The re-poured and dried concrete landing was inviting as I stepped out of the car, the curb, and into the building. There were still pallets of wonders and glamour being delivered at the behest of the mega-conglomerates we shared portfolios and handshakes with. The sidewalk was clustered with them, as I had no idea what to do with them. My neighbors were curious as well, but left them untouched, which I found surprising, even now. I wove my way through the maze of gifts and went into my building.'

'I hated the fact ours looked better than what we saw around us. While the initiatives for beautification were still taking hold in our neighborhood, planning and zoning committees were having a field day discussing what was missing, what we needed to make it work. It was so frustrating, to be handed draft after draft, of redone proposals or fielding phone calls in my living room, being wrung out for more time or money, because of a rewrite of a wheel in need of grease. It was demoralizing that I had to seem these neighborhoods, knowing I can help them, and still be stifled at every turn. Was it so wrong to try to help change things for the better?'

'When I walked into the apartment, Dr. Rod was furiously scribbling , this time instead of his crossword, it was a large piece of engineer's stationary. From my position walking into the door, it resembled an upside down man, of some sort. But until I drew nearer, and peered over the hunched shoulder of my collaborator, did I notice what it was, and Dr. Rod, noticed me.'

"Like it?" he asked, smiling upward. His face was lacking color and his eyes were cracked. He looked like he had been awake for days. I hadn't been around since a week prior. Bouncing about, jet setting on a media campaign, across to California and back, simply to get PTEKK up and running with a favorable eye from Wall Street. I thought it was having a taxing effect on myself, but as I looked down at the scientist, still brimming over, it was certainly a mutual condition.'

"What is it?" I asked.'

"Oh...something from my world, yet again, like before. But this one, is truly one of the things that will change this world, you world."

'I saw down at the mahogany table. Dr. Rod had made some improvements since I had left. We had apparently been donated the most advanced Washer and Dryer available, since Dr. Rod's all-in-one system he had created for Maytag and Whirlpool would make them billions, but wouldn't be manufactured for at least a year. Advanced call waiting rotary phones, soon to be replaced with walking communication panes known as 'Comm-Panels' or as they became simply known, 'Panels'. These were all obsolete offerings, but offerings none the less. Still, I hadn't changed the apartment's interior, or even its television. Our investors were gracious with the minute effects we had added to the world, rippling their lives along with it. We were gods in their eyes, but only I was designed to take the credit. At least according to the reclusive life on my counterpart. And I didn't know what to do with it. "What is it?" I asked, exhausted.'

"It's a new type of, well, what you'd refer to as a 'robot.'"

"Robot, like in Star Wars right?"

'He nodded jovially, but elaborated further "See I didn't have the example of this, 'Star Wars' or this 'Star Trek', or 'Buck Rogers' or any of what you have taken for granted here. My people didn't understand creativity so they simply let it languish. But myself, I knew there were similarities. For example."

'He held up the paper to me, diagramming its differences with his index finger.'

"You see, I drew from memory, this robot, this design. It's the standard model of my universe really, for many different functions, mainly utility. Incidentally, you had mentioned that robots exist in this universe, in this capacity as I am illustrating and designing" he said, rapping the paper, "But they were never here. They hadn't been built, aside from being constructed within memory. So even without our influx, without my influence, or yours, our technology was already naturally reaching such a stage. We just accelerated it is all. Changed your universe's 'orbit' if you will. Fascinating!"

"So they're the same?"

"Not in the slightest!...Well, I mean aside from being humanoid. Here, allow me to continue:"

'He went on describing the very differences between the 'Star Wars' robots and his own, insisting that while they shared characteristics limited to human similarity, they were in fact much different. For example they were not gold, as the scientist saw this as gaudy for some reason. Instead, they were a mesh pattern, their exterior constructed with a spray on fibrous substance, which as he mentioned, was available for use in one of our newly acquired subsidiary plants.'

'The frames and structures themselves were recycled bits from broken cars. The electrical systems too, which even made me shudder. But he continued on to note this, and explicitly defined they would naturally be scrutinized before use. And from a business standpoint, at least from my own perspective, it was far cheaper to use recycled parts and goods. This not only subverted many costs, especially in a time when we were grasping at straws as it was to build up in a shaky economic climate like it was back then. Later on I would discover that saying things were 'recycled', also staved criticism from some when it didn't work properly. The scientist continued to extrapolate on the features.'

'It was human like, with two legs, but had six arms, two of which could serve as backup running mechanisms, or 'extra legs', and could be disjointed and used to replace leg units which had been lost. They had specific legs for certain environments, like strange bendable feet for rock or mountainous terrain. The joints themselves were strange 'twistable' rotors, far more complex than the Mr. Patmont's scooter handle. They were capable of running fifty miles in a day, inspired by Zulu Warriors of our past according to him, using a method of solar power creation and retention that the Doctor had pioneered among his many creations for me to parlor. The circuitry, while recycled, was revolutionary in its insulation and retention. I remember noticing there were small, almost insect like mandible on the chest region, marked on his own design as 'repair/system module.'

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to it specifically.'

"Oh, that's its method of repairing itself. For example, if one is injured or damaged, it sends a signal which is read by the nearest PTEKK transmitter. This will contact the nearest PTEKK robotics specialist or even the nearest Komm-bot to aid in its regeneration." he droned on about its abilities and schematics. I'd find them familiar over time, but his explanations always went far and wide, and I was tired. We truly did think in different terms, even if we shared resemblance.'

'The next day, I ferried the plans off to the PTEKK Legal department across the hall, and few grunts and howls later, the wolf-man himself growled beckoningly to return. PTEKK Robotics was officially a division, funded and financed, with direct security links and connections to the highest levels of government. Overnight, we had become an Earthen staple.'

'There were malfunctions I had been made aware of later on in City-Bot Consumer Model, as well as the Komm-Bot military models, where I had argued, personally, with advocate groups and admirals alike, that the fact they didn't like recycled goods was because 'they didn't like the planet,' or 'their outlook and perspective is evidently skewed and misshapen.' It was ad hominem of course, but it was effective. I found this tactic served well many times in the coming future. But all this came after the fact. The fact being, what we ourselves were being given credit for. I'm referring of course, Diary3.0. to shortly thereafter, January the 10th, 1990.'

'In my universe, much like the others, there were enemies, forged simply from a difference, a duality of opinion. A disagreement of development, and a stymieing of progression that seemed to have been rooted in malice, but forgotten, even by those who influenced its conflict, and stoked its flames first hand. The day the Soviet Union fell. The hour of our work, just before the 11th had struck.'

'This caught our government sponsors off guard as well. They were flabbergasted to say the least. Speechless, at the realization that they had triumphed the enemy, while still preparing. Reagan openly celebrated, hardly expecting such an outcome privately, while heralding American superiority. The public, believing we had overcome the communists just from sheer willpower, while caught in a whirlpool of adversity. Economists and social scientists, blamed the lack of civil dialogue on part of the tyrannical governments in each of the respective states, the lack of food, crime rates generated from forced insemination in despotic nations like Romania. But it was all fluff. Tinder for a growing hunger of information; insatiable and unquenchable. Even the Doctor himself explained 'by being logical about why it happened, was illogical.' I didn't realize what he meant at the time when he said this to me in passing, but now that I consider it Diary 3.0, I think I know now.'

'This didn't happen because of parliamentary disagreements. Or because of the grueling aftershocks of the Afghan War. It didn't occur from a spark of ire, or the shot from a gun. I still stagger at the thought of how it happened: It was from what people saw. What they had seen, what we offered, myself, and by connection, Dr. Rod. Simply that.'

8.

'I remember that day well, as it was one of the few where I had left the 'office' as it had become known. The beautification was taking hold in certain spots along the boulevard, but it was still slumped and swollen in some parts. In my first steps leaving, when I was about to hop into the sedan, when I noticed that my two escorts were eyeing up something approaching. When they looked alarmed, I turned, to see what couldn't have been some kid, no more than fourteen years old, riding up on a rusty blue Schwinn.'

"How bout it mister? Whatta you gonna do wit' those things?' he asked. He didn't appear to be any sort of murderer or assassin but my bodyguards still moved in about to push him away. I held them back, not turning away from him. They rescinded, and he rode closer, which made them twitch slightly. I didn't even realize what he had meant, until I turned to face the curb.'

"Oh the boxes, and the crates, I...have no idea." I said. It's ludicrous to even think now how I was the head of a major corporation and couldn't answer a teenager's simple question.'

"Well, what's in em'?" he peered over my shoulder. There were some other kids running up now, curious.

'To be honest, I don't know what even compelled me. Or what possessed me to do it. But I was at a loss and it seemed like a good solution.'

"Let's find out!" I bellowed vigorously winding up in slow motion, pointing a charge to the crates. This animated response caught even my escorts off guard through their thick black sunglasses. They veered out of the way as I rushed past, with this rabid flock of youngsters in tow. There was a nearby news van, from a lesser known or unaffiliated franchise, had been waiting for me to leave my apartment for some up close footage, rolled over across the street from us. They dismantled into its news team, desperate for some film. The camera rolled and this is what people saw on their news that night:'

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<3>

<2>

<1>

<cue music>

"This is news on the hour WPIX CW 11 New York, with lead anchor Kurt Abraham."

<camera 1>

"Good evening I'm Kurt Abraham, we're opening tonight with exclusive footage from something completely outlandish it seems in New York City, we take you now live to Colleen Ferguson, Colleen?"

<mobile camera 1>

"Thank you Kurt, I'm outside Manhattan close to what has been called 'Hell's Kitchen'. It is also home to the headquarters of PTEKK Enterprises among its other divisions, and it would appear that Rod Andrews CEO and Head of PTEKK International, is giving back, well everything it seems."

<footage>

Resident #1: "He's just giving it all away. All that stuff he's just giving it away."

<voiceover>

"That is the sentiment here from the neighbors of PTEKK International, referring to the outpouring of gifts it received, in bulk in some cases, from potential investors, and other parties interested in bribing a stake it seems in the growing corporation. But as is seen here, they've started to pile up."

<footage>

Resident #2: "He didn't even come down here, to see what it was. He'd be in day in day out, not givin a goddamn, and it piled up!"

<voiceover>

"But now, it would seem that the neighborhood itself is reaping the benefits"

<mobile camera 1>

"Take this Lamborghini Contache for example, complete with an advanced PTEKK hovering and flyin module, valued at well over one-hundred thousand dollars, gift wrapped as you see here, and delivered to PTEKK's doorstep as an offering of friendship from its wealthy buyer.

<footage>

"But the offerings went unanswered. Business remained steady at PTEKK, but the gifts taking up the sidewalk weren't being addressed, until now"

<footage>

'Take your fill! It was given to me but you'll use it more than I could!'

"That, was Ron Andrews, CEO of PTEKK International, literally giving away millions of dollars in bonuses and gifts to his less able neighbors and community."

<footage>

"Police, were eventually called in to ensure public safety, and to take a look at some of the things someone, as wealthy as Ron Andrews, would simply give away."

<footage>

Sgt Ralph Watkins: "It's unprecedented, when you see someone do something like this. You just don't want it to get out of hand, but it's a great thing to watch. Haven't seen anything like it in a while."

<footage>

Colleen: Do you think that it's a good thing, what Ron Andrews is doing?

Resident #3: Oh well yea, it's wonderful what he's doing for those children, and for what he was trying to do with the community at meetings that I saw him at.

<footage>

Resident #2: I don't care what he's doin' fo' dem' kids, I wanna know what he's gonna do bout clearing' his junk out the street!"

<mobile camera 1>

"Well it seems as though not all the neighbors were pleased regardless of the outcome. But let me just point out, that earlier when I had mentioned this Lamborghini, which was donated by Rod Andrews to one of the men out here, and whispered in his ear. This is what he had to say."

<footage>

Resident #4: Man, hands me the keys to this car and says 'Pay my mortgage.' <laughs> Then he says to help take care of my friends here, and my neighbors. I was like, are you fo'real? Is this car hot or something' <laughs> He said "No no I wouldn't give you a stolen car"

<mobile camera 1>

"It remains to be seen what the impact will be from this charitable, and unexpected bombshell, from one of the most unlikely sources. This is Colleen Ferguson, CW 11 News."

<camera 1>

"Thanks Colleen well getting back to the days's stories..."

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'Who would have imagined that anyone would have seen it? This news network had been on its last legs apparently, and I had inadvertently thrown them a lifeline. But what they showed, was my saving strangers, or at least spoiling them. That was part of the image, part of what made the Communists fear us. Through all the money handling and wheeling and dealing, we'd forget our humanity. And I had just disproved it, and taken CW 11 for a ride with me to glory.'

'Yet, it was hard, even for me to deny (Doctor Rod too I'm sure) just how it looked to anyone outside America. Seeing visions of highways in the sky, advanced entertainment electronics. And robots on the near horizon? A man-made machine which would undertake both the building and defense of a nation? It was enough to quake the communist machine apart piece by piece. How could you compete with completely different financial system, in this case capitalism, if its engineering and scientific advancement had leaped decades ahead, in a matter of months?'

'More over, PTEKK had become stronger than ever in some of the fields most prevalent to Soviet control. Oil production for the Soviets had been demolished since the innovations in fuel to electricity conversion by the Doctor's work. Large blocky shield generators, only slightly larger than a coffee table, protected the flight zones and the ground in a 1.3 mile total circumference. Imagine machine gun fire, into a large deep block of gelatin. The paths themselves would seal over, the bullets sinking to the ground, still enveloped. This is how the shields would counter bullet fire, and I'm sure you could imagine the unanticipated reaction.'

'But that wasn't enough. The death knell, the final blow was seeing all the offerings of a grateful nation's elite, being doled out to its lowest caste. This was something communism had strived to do, and failed. It couldn't even give bread to the lines of its willing and hopeful citizens, let alone stave off the sights of an advanced society like ours had become. Even the efforts before its collapse to censor any knowledge of the innovations being accomplished here was impossible, and had even more of an negative effect on the already embattled regimes. All because they saw a news report where it seemed like presents lined every street of America. All because of seeing the richest American giving away a flying sports car. All because I didn't know how to answer some kid's question, and acted on instinct. It was unbelievable.'

'More incredible still, was the launch of PTEKK Interstellar, a new subsidiary of our main enterprise. This didn't please our main beneficiaries, being Lockheed-Martin, Boeing, and to a lesser degree NASA. They seemed to be reliant upon our research, the doctor's, at least enough to understand and create their own designs. I didn't know or understand their drive to overcome me now, but the scientist said 'It was only natural' to do so, to try to one-up someone. I suppose I was sick of being one-upped, and it was starting to show.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

9.

'A full year had passed and things couldn't have been better. PTEKK was the most popular distributor of robotic equipment, construction devices, hover transit and building materials. Even with our newer divisions of PTEKK Medical and PTEKK Interstellar, we hadn't encountered a market we couldn't conquer, a rival we couldn't buy. It had gotten to the point where even our subsidiaries were responsible for the production of even the most minute products for each new innovation that was patented by a non-affiliated corporation. A nut bolt that was tensile-strength for mach ten on new model military and police vehicles, the screen panels for radar screens, even the molecules the high stress plastics were made from, was patented by PTEKK. There wasn't a single new technology that our company didn't own, or wield majority stake in. The government had become so reliant upon PTEKK goods and services, that to even tie up the logistics of merely transporting our goods at the behest of a legal investigation, would cost billions in revenue for the GDP and would incur outrageous taxes upon now content Americans. It was win-win, and I can't deny we, being I, milked it for all it gave. But all things come to an end in some form Diary3.0. That's evident to me now.'

'I had been working with the board on numerous fronts. They were more than happy to turn a blind eye to different ventures across the globe, as were the majority shareholders. Stockholder Meetings now became more discreet, and allegations on some fronts were rising about predatory trading practices. Nothing, Diary3.0, is more predatory than PTEKK Legal. It's one enemy I'm glad I never made.'

'In addition, Many of them I had found later legitimized our work in questionable fields which stifled innovation across many sectors, hindered the first amendment, and according to one of the last summaries I remember reading, we apparently supported a dummy government in Botswana with advanced weaponry. Something over the control of industrial diamonds, I can't even remember now. I do feel guilt regarding such things now Diary3.0, simply because I wasn't paying attention when I should have, and was when I shouldn't have been. For example, I thought it would be hard to deny news footage showing PTEKK Kommissar 5000's doing bombing runs over other nations not yet tasting the fruits of freedom.'

'However, I began to neglect my outside duties as PTEKK's mascot. A week prior I had missed a charity functions, for the opening of advanced irrigation and power systems throughout the Gobi Desert. It was proclaimed by USA Today as 'A Modern Engineering Marvel', and I hadn't been mentioned because I wasn't there to coronate it. I had become very insulated.'

'The entire activity involved me simply corresponding with video conferencing, yet another PTEKK innovation. I didn't even have to leave the apartment aside from certain occasions. It had changed the way I worked entirely, and it was something I really like and got wound up in. Business was so good and productivity was so high, that I found myself enjoying leisure moments for a change. I was actually relaxing.'

'The Doctor on the other hand was in his eyes 'doing further research on my society to 'gauge the impact our of technologies on the globe as a whole. I had become more interested in creature comforts as time passed, but the Doctor always abstained. He felt that 'to simply take and not understand and give, relinquishes our ability to learn and function.' Still makes me laugh now.'

'I can tell you though truthfully, that it was technological magic of how he was able to come and go the apartment building as he pleased. Magic that you're made of Diary3.0. He may as well have been some kind of 'ninja-wizard' though. Having used it, I can attest that it allowed many things, among which an ability to allow the user to remain invisible, for an extended time. From what I he had told me, it was a device used in the scientific department of his own universe, to which he belonged. He was more surprised it still worked after he had merged into my universe. Still, even when he remained cloaked and shrouded to observe my universe's versions of humanity, it began to take its toll.'

'In his previous 'expeditions' out, he'd come back, and would sit on the sofa in the darkness, staring into the wall, processing like one of our computers. His efforts of late had become focused on a method of scientific study and research. This of course, involved him not speaking, or being remotely sentimental or even the slightest bit as jovial as he once was. I suppose I can't blame him now. He'd probably seen a lot.'

'We'd become so disconnected, though we were practically copies. The one of his assignments I remember he came back, slamming the door behind him hard enough to elicit a yelp from across the hall. He sputtered as he walked, I couldn't look away. His eyes wide with rage and fury, a face I know all too well. Shuffling atop his sofa throne, paned in moonlight, he sat, billowing. I didn't even want to ask what it was, but if he was anything like me, which he clearly was, it was probably being an observer, and nothing more.'

'All of us, see things that make us question the 'value', of humanity. Sometimes some of us, undertake certain tasks reserved and directed with bitterness and scorn. Whatever the reason. Like most it probably didn't directly affect him, physically, but like all of us, it changed him. Not because it impacted him aside from the observation, but it had become part of what he remembered. Of what his memory consisted of. It wasn't healthy for him, being that he was from a place where such things didn't happen. Things words cannot describe. Things that spur feelings. He and I knew that. That was about one week before this night, and I hadn't seen the Doctor since.'

'I remember the night in question, being sprawled out on the day glo sofa, the new enormous tv buzzing away some of PTEKK's late night ad blitz. This one in particular was for a partnership we had with Saab-Scania, for the new Kelvary Mk II, a consumer variation of the Kommisar 5000 creation of PTEKK Interstellar. I had the channel tuned to CW 11, which had enjoyed a major increase in ratings following their coverage of the spectacle outside our headquarters.'

'I hadn't offered many interviews since the Today Show, minus of course shareholder updates and Forbes called PTEKK "igniters of the commerce revolution." Money magazine called everyday for an interview, but the Wolf-man kept them at bay. But it was still busy. I was nodding off now, the scientist nowhere to be found, and my vision faded to black.'

'I was jolted awake, by something that had come from the bathroom. I peer over across my shoulder, the familiar glimmering light from my previous dream shone through. Making no mistake this time, I walked up, and opened the groaning door to the scientist's playpen.'

'I was sitting in the same chair I had been, flung into the bright classroom environment again, and was greeted with the smiles of the Rodd-iite, and an ovation. I looked around me to see who they were clapping at. It was obviously me. The scientist was nowhere in sight, but expressions from my fellow Rods seemed to suggest I was expected to speak. I looked back and forth at them and the podium, still no sign of Dr. Rod. I ascended to the podium, the eyes of the Rodd-iites on me, and looked down. In front of me, was a pamphlet; its cover read 'Open'. I was amazed I could even read its letters in this state, when I hadn't been able to in the apartment before. Flipping the cover revealed the second page, with 'Read' in large letters, followed by an arrow to the next page. Smiling to the already beaming audience, and flipping to the first page, I read what the doctor had groomed me to read:'

"Hello fellow Rodd-iites. I am 285, from the Universe mapped 285. I'd like to open with, how wonderful it is to see all of you" I remember stammering, to an uproar of laughter and applause. "WE KNOW!" screamed someone from the back. I cleared my throat and continued hoarse and clearly nervous.'

"Um..." I stammered. I was way in over my head, again. This was different than some televised interview. And it wasn't because it was a dream. It was because I was appealing to my selves, and if I knew how bad I was at this, then they must too. But I was again surprised by their patience"

"Just read the paper! Don't worry!" a different Rod echoed from the crowd.'

This was something I was planning to mention earlier Diary3.0, one thing I had noticed about the Rodd-iites themselves; they were all, broken.'

'In my universe, I had terrible luck with all my career prospects. But for the most part, my world and universe had been fair to me. Some of these Rod's, now deep in introspective thought, may have been villains or hardened from terrible abuses. As I'd find out through personal investigation later, many of their homes had been obliterated in one way or another. Earthquakes, floods, genocide of varying sorts.

'All their societies had different leaders as well, and different cultural backgrounds. It's what made them all so fascinating, and even moreso, that some of that would clash if they looked any different. But sharing a perceived identity, regardless of personal distaste for one aspect of humanity or another, still prevailed.'

One thing I did note about all of them, is they encompassed more suffering than I knew, more than I know even now. Their lives had been twisted by fate in a way that I couldn't imagine, a way beyond words. All of them, fractured versions of myself, seemed almost desperate for a way out. Something, anything. I looked down again. The pages were stacked with notes inbetween. It took me a moment to collect myself before I began again.'

"We have in ourselves a commonality, which extends beyond our mere similarities" the scientist's words flowing through me, "But that was joined, by scientific means beyond our own comprehension, that is, all but one. The Doctor, has given me full right, within my own universe, to market, design, and otherwise deliver, the most common facets of his universe which can be our reality. Our realities."

'This created a stir, and it had said <pause> in the speech, and then I continued,'

"At your feet you should all find a brown manila envelope. Unlike a normal dream state, we are capable of discerning information, specifically numbers and accurate schematics. Our Doctor counterpart, continues to work to understand why this is so. However, it is prudent in the meantime, to share whatever information is available between our worlds."

"In addition, we are at a loss, to determine how exactly to directly merge worlds, in the sense, that we do not yet have the capacity to travel between our universes. This transportation, is more than possible. It's been done, and has been accomplished once already by the Doctor himself. But that's where it becomes complicated my fellow Rods. He is uncertain, as to how to construct a similar device, to begin the progression and advancement of your worlds as well, using my universe 285 as an anchor. It is with this, that we are unable to directly, and by that I mean physically assist any of you whose worlds are in need of assistance in any way. But, we have a temporary solution:"

"You will find however, included in each docket there are world maps. From what research we are to ascertain, it's that the majority of these locations are that of mineral, super-mineral and essential commodities to conduct your operations. The Doctor himself is at a loss to the newer locations of your worlds whose commodities do not match the outline coordinates and mappings. But I'm told directly from him, him being the Doctor, that once production begins of a source to transport between universes, we will be able to tangibly deliver goods to one another. But there is still, a problem."

'This is where I had to re-read the next passages. This was all written by Dr. Rod all right, but this part was beyond cryptic. Frankly, it made my skin crawl.'

"My universe, as mentioned by the Doctor, is what he called 'on the cusp of change.' According to these words, he was referring to an opportunity, a societal choice. One, is the development of his technology, which would then be shared with all of you to merge and progress our worlds as a whole. But there is another problem friends. It entails forces beyond my control, which intend me harm. I, personally, Rod 285, was unaware at the knowledge of this entirely, but there are plans in the works according to observed communications between various entities within my own country's government...and those of my constituents and conglomerate members, and from what has been ascertained...what has been ascertained is that the collusion with malicious forces may in fact be within my own company, PTEKK Enterprises."

'There was a wave of shock and anger which rippled through the audience of Rod's. Random outcries from them amidst the disorder regarded what actions I should take. This wasn't even their universe. But a Rod under guidance from a familiar yet more intelligent affiliate, had offered them a chance, in their beleaguered states and universes, to become something more than they had ever imagined. It was a shock for even me to imagine, let alone read from a speech not of my design.'

'Just then, the door I had come from rocked and creaked, a force on the other side. The knob turned spastically, someone desperate to get in. It ceased, and a few moments later, the Rodd-iites had stopped paying attention to it, and back to me. I wanted to investigate. To see what it was, I really did. But the gazes from the fellow Rodd-iites convinced me to remain at the pulpit. I cleared my throat, looking at the door, continuing the speech.'

"...These facts have begun to surface during an investigation by the Scientist himself. He has determined, that the best course of action he can make, with all of your trust as fellow Rod's, and planetary and universal affiliates, is to usher unto me, the same role as before in my world but...in this dreamlike state, the same authority to govern as such...as leader of what will be hereafter referred to as 'The Rodd-iite Brotherhood,' a single entity governed across galactic and dimensional bounds, previously thought barred solely for the second lives we have; the dreams and visions of futures wished."

'I was really starting to get into this speech. I felt the Scientist's words inspiring me to be more than I had even thought possible: A pretty good orator.'

"We can all share in the goals of one another. We here, can set the stage for a new era on all our worlds, to bring about the change we see with in the best possible light. We too, can make our societies merge as one, to produce a better life, for all of us. All those who share our dimensional orbit, whose worlds hang in perpetual tandem through eons past, and future to be."

"But, my world is changing, and with it I, 285, must adapt to it. Dr. Rod will be aiding my ability to maintain and retain control of my world, to allow the continued production and progress for our technological leap of faith. The boundary will be broken my friends, and we will share in the fruits of advancements far beyond your wildest imaginations can bestow. We will all sit together at the summit, one another in friendship. One thing we have all been lacking it would seem."

"The Doctor would wish me, to inform all of you, at his behest, that together, we can stave off potential conflict. Our forces, joined as one, for the betterment of all our people. We can do this, because we share the gift. Though inherited or inadvertently gained, it remains. We cannot deny that it is there, because to do so, would force twice the denial. Of what we saw, and felt. What we believe...to be truth beyond ourselves. Beyond our universes. But to deny their similarity, would be to deny ourselves, each other, what we see here, before us. To see ones' self, through the looking glass, as you see those around you, we may be the fragmented identities of who and what we are."

'The speech's paper said <pause 5 sec while clearing throat and shuffling papers for effect, while examining audience>. The scientist really had style with his writing. This could have been a shareholder's meeting at for all I knew, but far more civil.'

'I could tell some of them had been visibly moved. Others were simply overcome by the thought of it all.

"I, 285, will remain with you, as will the scientist in spirit and commonality, for as long as we can manage. The two of us, both physically within the bounds of the 285 universe, my universe, could be facing odds which will require us to be unavailable for any future aid, dream state or not. I implore you all, once more friends, to hold out hope, for the day we can all bask in the glory of these achievements, and share them with each of our worlds. We can do this, we can strive, for a better future for all our universes."

'There was a thunderous applause. It was the first real public speech I had given, where I actually felt as though I had been judged by my peers. My true peers, and not simply some board members or shareholders that just wanted figures, numbers, or a simple good or bad. These Rods, wanted more. Much more. The Scientist had helped me greatly. I don't think I could have written a speech like that, let alone delivered it without him leaving it here for me.'

'Amidst the applause though, it grew even greater and thundered more so. The reactions were no longer directed at me, but what was behind me, over my right shoulder. I turned, to see the scientist, Dr. Rod himself, smiling.'

"Thank you for the committed support and the wonderful speech 285. We will continue to support your endeavours and hope for the best. Make us proud."

'He reached quickly, pressing his thumb into my bridge of my nose, deep into my forehead. I awakened, shaken, with a jovial scientist in front of me, eating corn flakes out of the box.'

"Bad dream?" he asked, smirking.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10.

'The scientist's quip just then, did not bode confidence. While it should have, especially after such an inspiring dream, it didn't. Something was amiss here Diary3.0, and the fullness of the impact wouldn't come until the end of that day.'

'That morning PTEKK's stock had taken a 40 point dive among rumors that the Botswana fiasco was going to cause Interpol to hand down an indictment against the company. Speculation also continued to drive the stock down further regarding a bad outlook for the shipment of industrial diamonds as a result, as well as shortages in Copper and Uranium driving up a demand we weren't projected to meet. To make matters worse, China and Russia, though quickly becoming firm trading partners with my government, had been reluctant to involve themselves in any deals that PTEKK attempted to coax them with. To this day, I'm not entirely certain if it was because they didn't trust me, or if they simply did not trust the company I kept on the PTEKK Board and Subsidiaries. Probably both, and with just cause.'

'Though that was the least of my worries at the time. The Justice Department had begun to look into allegations which stemmed from one of my board member's activities. This was regarding the Botswana incidents. I didn't know which one of them it was. I barely knew the board at all aside from a few simple facts: That they were people, and were comprised of PTEKK's former competition. For a CEO and corporate mogul, I was a joke.'

'But I was little surprised to find the Doctor had made me breakfast. It was only shocking since he wasn't normally concerned. For the most part I ate whatever would be delivered, or what had been left over in the crates outside that hadn't been given away or simply taken at will. I had come to an arrangement with my neighbors that they were free to help themselves to whatever they wanted from them. I likened it to some bountiful cornucopia to some of the neighborhood parents. "An exquisite orchard of fine delights and treats reserved only for the Earthen elites, delivered by truckload to your doorstep to enjoy." I remember saying, bowing after. They all laughed. I was sounding more like the Doctor everyday. Though I didn't help myself often to the fruits on the trees. I had become more emaciated in those times. I rarely slept either. 'Where you're going, you'll need a breakfast.' I remember the doctor had said. My outlook that morning had still been rosy though. Even through the turmoil of news being filtered through the wire, our stock was still holding at 857.89 that morning.'

'The board called an emergency meeting at exactly 10 a.m. I hadn't anticipated going and didn't want to. It had been scheduled at the small manufacturing concern I mentioned before to discuss the apparent emergency. The Doctor, coaxed me on. I remember now when I groaned about it, he frowned, saying 'Sometimes the greatest of opportunities come at the behest of our comfort.'

'I was mulling that over as my hover Mercedes descended to the manufacturing district. The factory was still functioning, one of PTEKK's best distributors. But its machines were dormant; the labor had been given the morning off in lieu of the meeting's importance. Its cracked pavement parking lot was stuffed with 3 hover Rolls's and 2 Mercedes limousines. All the of the board were already there, inside, as my escort pulled up.'

'Our 'Meeting Room' amounted to little more than a small break room sectioned off from the factory's laundry, nestled deep within winding block walls. It was boxed off even smaller, with cubicle panels, under a low hanging single bulb. There was a large, fake-wooded, fold-able table and white lawn chairs within, with the business standard pitcher of water and coffee in the center. Clearly the most elegant of arrangements had been made, even in haste.'

'I should note, that as the result of the heightened technological advancements we had made, PTEKK's board rarely had to meet in person. This was a dual edge sword, in the sense that it was low-overhead, removing the need of an actual office building and allowed the ability of individual management to work independently. However, there were clearly communication breakdowns. Such as this. So when it was necessary on those few occasions, we had to make due. 'These things happen,' the Doctor would say about such.'

'All of them were there, from each division. As I had mentioned Diary3.0, PTEKK had many divisions and sub-divisions, fused from the corporate takeovers. PTEKK could be broken down as such: Transit, which included earth air vehicles, Medical, Minerals & Commodities, Communications, Military, and our newest division, PTEKK Intergalactic. I was embarrassed really but I did my best to hide it. I hardly knew much about them, even now. There 4 men, 2 women and myself, all of them from merged corporations. Older than me, and seemingly weathered from their job shakeups. I knew they were competent, and were able to follow orders from myself or the wolf-man at my behest. They were apt to succeed in a new company, and would respond to suggestions which would benefit. But their ambition I know now, was simply to do what I had: To gain control and follow their agendas, spring boarding off PTEKK as I seemed to have. No matter the cost. If only they knew.'

'To anyone who may actually hear this, I wish it to be know, that it wasn't necessarily that the scientist or myself were out to ravage or wreak havoc upon other companies, especially those which had already been crippled. Even the scientist, Doctor Rod himself, was apt to create, not to destroy. But it was simply impossible to compete with the scientist's most basic products, or the drive to which he worked on his creations. They were the types of products that companies and scientists of my universe only dreamed of, let alone dreamed of becoming some type of standard. The Doctor knew this would happen though. Like I said, he had his reasons.'

'I walked into the room vibrantly. I was in good spirits but I didn't expect what happened next.'

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen how wonderful it is to-"

"With all due respect please spare us the courtesy Mr. Andrews, if that's your real name." one of them said. His name was Spivy, Marcus Spivy.'

"Excuse me, Mr..." I began.

"Spivy, Mr. Andrews. Marcus Spivy, your company's Chief Financial Officer and Head of PTEKK Military. He stood up in what appeared to be respect."

'He had been the CFO of Carlyle before it was absorbed, like a rival cell, into PTEKK. He from what I'd understand later he did not mind me so much, at first, but took the 'merger' with Carlyle 'badly'. It had to do with something about a bid on computer tracking systems if I recall. He had made friends, close allies within his former board. They all fished together, drank together, sent each others' families Christmas cards. They may as well have been family. And the world, and my company tore them apart. Some of their lives as well apparently. Mostly just the way the world was really. Regardless, this, his sudden curtness, had stopped, me and my two escorts in our tracks, in the shades of window's panes.'

"Marcus I came to this meeting under the interpretation that this had to do with some kind of company emergency."

'He motioned for me to sit at the vacant break room seat, smiling, across from the other board members. They were smiling too. I was curious. I relented my staunch poise, nodding to my escorts to go outside, and I sat down. He took his seat and continued.'

"First of all, I'd like to apologize for this in advance, to you, Mr...<ahem> Andrews. We, to be honest, didn't know you at all when we had approached you." Spivy began, "How could we? All of us in one way or another, have some type of connection. Some influence from somewhere that can be traced back. Every single person in this room, and on this board, whether they be man or woman engaged in the practice of developing some bridge. A bridge based upon growth. Whether it be growth of commerce, or of innovation. A growth of one can naturally lead to a growth in the other. A source between two entities. In biology they refer to the relationships gained by certain bacteria utilizing 'flagella', or some type of method to, join in some way shape or form, meshing to a sense of understanding. The most microscopic and primitive way of, well, reaching out for a greater purpose, to one another. Some attainable goal of which to relay and rely upon the aspect of collaboration. Of unity. Every single person in this room understood this when they undertook in their own lives, a quest beyond themselves, but of a unity such as that. All, but you."

"You were, and still are to a large degree an unknown. A rock hidden under a rock in a field of them. We couldn't have found you if we had tried, if we had known. Yet, you found us, or I should say, your attorney did. He invited us, to take part in what was described on paper as 'single-handedly one of the greatest ventures to bring together and unite humanity.' We, all here, were thrilled, especially at even the slightest innovation you made, long before we had been...well...invited if you'd call it that, to PTEKK's staff. We were enthralled at your ideas Mr. Andrews, though the costs to some have been greater than others But we admire you sir, and we believe we have made it abundantly clear. We stood by, glowing within that same nobility which you echoed across every talk show, on the cover of every magazine, simply to boost the products you sold. That we sell. We thought you were some white knight to be honest, or some of our other younger executives at Carlyle thought you were..."

"Carlyle? What are you getting at Spivy? I thought this was supposed to be about PTEKK and our future as a company."

'The small man, bloated both in body and face glared at me, standing up, and placed his hands behind his back. He paced forward now, around our seated colleagues, drawing nearer.'

"We run businesses Mr. Andrews. We are, in a sense, symbiotic, like the organism I mentioned. And we like you, wish to shape the world. We wish and we dream, but this is not so. You cannot control this company, and expect your shareholders, or your appointed board not to protest. It's not simply about the numbers. Revenue is up, profits are up, fine. But we're also under a possible indictment by the Justice Department, and by Interpol? And for what? Complete and utter irresponsibility!"

'He could tell I wasn't shaken. My skin had thickened, another symptom of confidence I hadn't expected at the time. He strode back to his seat, sitting, where he fumbled with the brown legal envelope in front of him. Like a child unwrapping gifts, he seemed giddy, but now I know it was stemming from more than simply what was to him, putting some jerk-off kid in his place. What he was about to do was for his own sense of satisfaction. For his fishing buddies'.'

"Your attorney, Mr. Herbert Walker, Esquire, had been disbarred previously following what was described as a 'psychiatric' episode in which he defended a man accused of killing a small girl accidentally with a vehicle during a DUI several years ago. I'm unsure if you were previously aware of his case." he said, gliding the envelope across the table. "Specifics of the case aside, he hasn't served as an attorney since then. Until he came into PTEKK's employ of course. A charity case until that day, half price rent to him, from your former landlord Mr. Steve Patmont, creator of your venture the Hover Scooter. All of you residing at a tenement building you all share. It's quite efficient you know, and quite random, being beneficially so of course that you'd all just happen to find one another under one roof."

'I felt awful. For 'Wolf-man' Herb. I didn't even know his name, let alone the circumstances of his life. I didn't ask. He seemed so affronting, so scornful. At least between the snarls and wails. But I respected him now, moreso because of hearing this. I didn't want to look down at that envelope or care. We must have rubber stamped some god-awful shit, and the fact that a man who I only knew as 'the wolf-man of 3-14' probably knew full well what each document carried. What each levied and taxed in one way or another, on postage or on a man himself. My stomach started churning at the thought of this. I was such a callous bastard in my youth. Even if I was truly a bastard son, it tore me apart right there. And more at seeing this puffer-fish demean someone who'd become a reliable associate, who seemed to be relishing tearing down a man for his mistakes.'

"Mr. Spivy, I hardly see what the history of my attorney has to do with the effectiveness of our company, or why this meeting was suggested in the first place." I stammered.

'He clasped his hands, "I'm getting to that Mr. Andrews. In spite of all this we on the board, felt it necessary to remove Mr. Walker from his position as the head of PTEKK Legal. In light of certain circumstances, we felt his removal was in order, and accordance with the direction we with to take with PTEKK International."

"Removal? We? Wait a minu-"

"Please... Mr. Andrews, if I may continue. He was questioned by an investigator formerly affiliated with Carlyle, Ren Jameston, who has now become Chief of Security for PTEKK under my order beginning at 8:45 this morning. Your attorney, was not forthcoming. But after persuasion, specifically when we unearthed those papers you see there, and threatened to leak them, he told us what he knew. But it wasn't much, no matter what leverage with issued. All we have to go on, and all he was willing to reveal, or knew, was that by the extension of something within you, or somehow connected to you however, something has created the products we have, shaping the future today."

'My stomach was twisting more the minute he uttered the words 'connected to me'. I wasn't the type of person who was apprehensive, or at least concerned with my surroundings to know if I had been followed. Or if the scientist had been either. Spivy seemed to be grasping at straws though, as any doubtful mind would be. I doubt Herb could even know. How could he? The Scientist worked in mysterious ways even I couldn't deduce. I wouldn't have even believed Doctor Rod about a single word he said, or had listened if he didn't resemble me. This Dragnet treatment was making things worse, a role which Spivy probably had waited for his entire life to emulate.'

"We know all about you. Well, whoever you are, really." Spivy continued, "From what our new Head of Security was able to gather, we know that you live in New York City and it was not kind to you. We can 'guesstimate', that you're educated, but not fully in college or accredited as such. We know that you're the head of our corporation, a seemingly lifeless entity that has emerged overnight without any sort of connection to any business, or government. And by connection, I mean any. We know you're not in contact with your father, your mother abandoned you at a young age, as did everyone else, and otherwise you lead, what appears at least on paper to be a dreary and woeful life." he said, seating himself across from me again, "Oh, and that your given name is Patternik and not Andrews." he paused, briefly.'

'The sinking feeling had dissolved. They didn't know about the scientist, or that it was his inventions. Even now I'm glad I upheld that idea, though I disagreed with it, to make it appear we were the same person. Spivy and the others may have kept an eye on me, but the Doctor could clearly avoid them altogether. I can't say I wasn't envious. This is also when I expected to hear a humanitarian diatribe, decrying what I had done. Don't get me wrong, I knew even then what we had done was awful, more so because I, PTEKK's President and CEO, knew nothing or barely anything of it. We were exploiting our people, and ourselves, on many fronts of a war I didn't even understand. I was following orders from a source beyond myself, in ways that I still cannot describe with words. Expecting the worst of treatment, and an impending verbal thrashing, Spivy, noting my discomfort, began to chuckle.'

"This treatment, Mr. Andrews, is not to be devious. It was not originally our intention to approach you in this fashion. We invited you to various functions, to find that you didn't appear. We offered various gifts, and virtually anything you would have wanted, had you asked. But you asked for nothing, at least nothing directly. We took this as a humble nature at first Mr. Andrews, all of us. We felt that you were gracious, especially in light of what you did on the televised news-cast, whether it was intentional or not you don't need to deny its validity to me. It shook the world, and those commie columns fell to the ground to dust. You shook the hand of Ronald Reagan. You're a goddamn American hero, that I won't deny."

"But these gifts, the gifts are but a tawdry thing. Normal offerings, tidings of friendship to any new executive or even consultant. What you were getting were the dreams and hopes that many, many of your peers younger and older alike have strived for. Would kill for. Many, like those in this room. But you denied them, and gave them away. A noble gesture I can understand, but what message does that send to us? To your board members and investors? What message did it send to those who served with you collaboratively, in a market designed for growth. Not by one, but by many. But you. What you've done is not just revolutionary, oh I'll give you that Mr. Andrews. But what you've done, was reckless and destructive."

"You managed to single handedly divert endless funds from PTEKK, to squelch your competition. We are Carlyle, at the time, were taken aback completely at this selfishness. You made patents free and available, but managed to control the rights to every last detail, every last nut and bolt. Again, a brilliant move, but once again, you stepped over, and on those who would have gladly pushed you above them, from respect alone. You managed to do what my predecessors and myself have been trying to do for almost two-hundred years in what felt like the blink of an eye. But what you did was inexcusable."

"Mr. Spivy with all due respect, I was unaware aside from this morning about the sales of weapons on part of PTEKK. I am unsure as to where the funds for the weapons even came from but I-"

'Spivy furiously shook his head, and a volcano erupted inside the room. I did not expect explosion, nor did any of the other board members.'

"I'm not talking about reinforcing the guerillas or toppling that shithole Botswana! That's been the formula by time and design before I even undertook business! Before you or I, or anyone in this world today was born. I'm not talking about some beastly-eyed rag-head with a rusty Kalishnekov, or some rice paddie goombah! They're not even in the picture, let alone in the fucking frame! I'm talking about squelching those who made you what you are! By influence, by gratitude, by mere acceptance!" he said, now rising. He had begun pacing now.'

"The entire time of your ascension through business, people saw you as the next 'American Icon.' A shatterer of worlds, who'd reduce them to simple blocks, and would build them anew in a logical and rational vision. A vision we, ourselves everywhere, could call our own. Even I was for a while bemused by the idea, perhaps because I was distracted. Distracted by a sweeping tide that ensured my sweat and blood went up in smoke. Why? Because the only world you shattered was the fucking world we were paid to protect! The only one that protects us from the rest of it. The rest of the planet, that would stop at nothing to take all we have!"

'He was raving now. "The Soviets? Gone, but they're not forgotten. If you had bothered to read any of the communiqués from our security desk, you'd see it's only a matter of time before they fester into something completely different. The Chinese too, even though they've seem to have insulated themselves better than we had expected. But that furthers the point Mr. Andrews, that your tenure behind the helm, has led us off course! A course of glory! One of what most, if not all of the best in business believe to be! Manifest Destiny! The Great American Crusade!"

"It was supposed to be one where our foes would be vanquished by their own intolerance! Their weakened masses demoralized and broken, would tremble and submit, accepting our culture as their own! It was foretold by those who made this country good sir, by the very people you've cheapened by uniting the world under false precepts! Un-American ideals that commit to prosperity that is impossible, even for the rational to include! You cannot simply give the world commerce, and expect a creative and balanced vision to ensue! This will not be so Mr. Andrews, and do you know why? Because human beings simply are not that gifted Mr. Andrews! We are beyond that of mere human beings and their trifles! Our interests, and responsibilities alone, elevate us beyond simply that!" he bellowed, slamming his hands on the table.'

'The volcano calmed, only slightly. "I know that you've done exceptionally good things for America, and for the world." Spivy continued, "We, all here, understand that. But we've seen changes, in the global marketplace. The natural term would be fluctuations, the likes of which are incalculable. An incalculable event, is a barrier we can ill afford. And frankly Mr. Andrews, we, your board of directors do not believe that you have the experience necessary to meet the changes in the coming future. We, being all of us. A formal vote was taken, and your role in the future committees of this venture have been voided. Your role within the company itself will be terminated, effective immediately to be replaced by a temporary replacement governed at the behest of the shareholders. Your st-"

"You can't do that, you don't have the autho-"

"Your stock!... will be frozen. All of your company accounts will be seized. And as is customary with complying with International and American law, we have informed the SEC and the Treasury department as to your whereabouts. Our whereabouts for this meeting. "

'He was billowing magma now, the room steaming with rage. "You haven't a prayer you son of a bitch. You may have taken down my friends Andrews, but you won't take us down with you. You will not take this company down with you, regardless of the patents and creations you've brought to the table. You're finished!." Spivy was firm. Everything that had bloated before had hardened, and all that magma had encrusted him in a shell of resolution. He wasn't alone.'

'They all gazed at me now, nodding in near unison. I still don't know if it was out of fear or complicity. It was then that I began to see first hand that these people, all walks of life, who I had assembled on this board from the corporations PTEKK absorbed were planning this all along. Well, some of them it seemed. Spivy rose with the nameless board, all of them looking down on me scornfully, and walking through the doorway out of the break room. Spivy, still volatile, leaned in.'

"This is what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you, you bastard." he spat on the ground, sizzling under him. His footsteps echoed out of the room, and all the board had adjourned. All of them but one. She had waited for them to leave before saying anything.'

"Mr. Andrews. Mr... Andrews." she whispered softly.'

'I was still shaken to the bone from Spivy's delivery. My gaze was locked into the grains of the fake wood table. He was right of course. I was...still am a bastard in more ways than one. Through ineptitude and stark ignorance I had managed to alienate my company, get my attorney arrested, and made a demon of Spivy. I didn't realize I had made such an impact on the man.'

"Rod!" she whispered loudly, moving directly next to me.

"What?"

"We need to go, right now."

"Wait, wha-"

"Come on right now!" she yelled, yanking my arm.

'I don't know what possessed me to follow her. I should have just sat there, let fate deal its hand. Maybe it did, because Diary3.0, I was scared. I knew what was happening was just another thing beyond my understanding at the time, but I knew it wasn't natural. Or at least as natural as something the scientist would have designed. Still, I jumped up and she led me away.'

'Wrenching me through the doorway of the break room and into the deserted laundry, she paused, glacing around each machine, listening for any noise. Apparently clear, she wrestled my arm around, flung me around some corners to a back doorway I didn't even know was there, to a waiting hover-limo. She pulled me to its door throwing me and herself into the back.'

"Go now!" she yelled to the driver, who got airborne immediately.'

"Wait, what about my escorts down the-" I started, but looked down. In the parking lot as we thrusted overhead, I saw a pattering of flashes, unmistakably machine-gun blasts. The pattering continued, and slowed to one, then ceased as we drifted off into the clouds.'

'I was, at the time, emotional.'

"Jesus Christ what is happening?..." I stammered, still shaken.

'The woman, who had thrown me a lifesaver, glanced at me.'

"Rod...I mean, Mr. Andrews, you can't blame yourself for what happened back there."

"What do you mean? I mean I know I didn't know them, but they were human beings! They may have been paid but they were that much at least! And all the things I've done and approved. I mean-"

"Mr. Andrews."

"All these people dying in Botswana, I apparently made enemies out of my own board, I've got the police after me-"

"MR. Andrews, sir." she said loudly. The driver turned back but was met with her glare. He turned back and she looked back at me.

'I stopped. She was looking right at me, into me, with deep green eyes. Rippling color, a tree-line was her gaze. I was flummoxed.'

"This isn't the time to be losing our heads Mr. Andrews." she whispered, putting her hand on my shoulder.'

"Well what do you expect of me? I'm barely over 30, have a terrible grasp of business, a board of directors that wants to skin me alive and tan the remaining bits as trophies. In the public eye I'm some blowhard, no matter what I give away. No matter what I make. And people like Spivy, and the other board mem-"

"They're not completely with him, they're just scared."

"But still people like Spivy! It's only a matter of time before just reveals whatever he knows about me to the public and makes them all-"

"There will always be people like Spivy, and people forget everything including people like him."

'I was almost hysterical. "And you, a complete stranger just saved me from being gunned down, or arrested, or both out of the blue. I don't even know your name!"

'I could tell she was surprised. "God calm down will you? You really are awful at business if you can't do that much. And you're shocked that Spivy would go to such great lengths to do what he's doing now? Don't you read up on people at all? I mean you employed the entire board after laying off all their friends from companies that they had made themselves. Can you blame them for being even a little bit antagonistic? Or hostile? I mean, don't you know anything about people?" she said, taking her hand off my back and crossing her arms. "You're pretty brave or just plain stupid if you took my hand without even knowing who I was."

'She was right of course. Not only was a stubborn and brash in my youth, I was blind as well.'

'I could hear her sigh. "Matilda."

"What?"

"My name. My name is Matilda. Matilda Terenstry, chairwoman of PTEKK Interstellar." she said, extending her hand, "Since we never did make it official. At any point, really."

'I shook her hand, gladly. It was dry, but soft. She seemed completely calm regardless of the circumstances. She had saved my life, and for what had seemed like ages between, I felt what it was to be truly grateful to another person. We were quiet for a little longer before she continued on.'

"So, do you prefer Rod Andrews or...Rod...Patternik was it?" she said, laughing. I blushed and she apologized, still smiling, "I'm sorry I didn't know. Patternik...isn't bad, but you're right in thinking that it doesn't suit you."

'I rung my eyes with my fingertips.' "What does?"

'She paused, and smiled again. "Something like Andrews.". She gazed out the window, leaning forward abruptly. "Pull off at the next exit." she told the driver. He complied and we reeled about off the hover expressway down a deep decline.

'It vaulted a good half mile off the main city strip, netted with PTEKK standard shielding. It was incredible to look at all the superhighways and swarming lines of flying cars, buzzing to their destinations like the bees they were, ferrying the people pollen home and about. I helped create all this, to a lesser degree, and never once bothered to look at it. It was one of the most beautiful sights to behold Diary3.0. We arrived at what appeared to be another factory in a plaza, surrounded by others. One near the center had an open ceiling, which seemed to be venting vapor of some sort.'

"Here, this is yours." Matilda said, handing me a brown legal envelope. "It was one of the last things Mr. Walker gave me before he was arrested."

'Even now I still forget the wolf-man's name was Herb Walker. "Arrested? What, how-"

"During the meeting. Spivy's new Head of Security trumped up reasons to after they detained him. They're going to arraign him in the morning on corruption charges, but Spivy's lawyers, formerly Carlyle themselves, ensured that Walker would be booked at Bellvue for a psychiatric evaluation, not just relating to the criminal charges being investigated, but also to question his ability before the bar. They've been planning this for some time Mr. Andrews, I'm positive now that you were unaware. We, both Mr. Walker and I, all knew it was a trap that Spivy orchestrated. I didn't want to go along with it Mr. Andrews, you have to believe me."

'We were landing now as she explained, through the mysterious open ceiling.'

'I was distrusting at that point. Even if she claimed to be on my side, she could easily be turning me in right now. But why bother saving me? Why would she risk her neck just to get me arrested again?'

'My mind reeled but only the most obvious of questions came to light. "Why should I trust you? How can I trust you?"

"Because Mr. Andrews..." she began, stammering. "I was the one who sold those weapons... I did it."

'I was more than a little shocked. She was looking at me right in the eyes again, and I was transfixed. She may have looked only a few years older than me, but was older, and clearly sophisticated; dark haired and dressed, respectable. She was a stark opposite of me, no doubt working tirelessly, like Spivy to get where she was. I'm still surprised to this day she didn't just join the mutiny, and let me rot. But for me at the time, it was harder to imagine someone like that selling our advanced weapons to a bunch of despots, let alone focusing on world diplomacy or foreign policy.'

"But why, how-"

'She stopped now, finding the words. We had landed, and I could see the silhouettes of activity in the darkness in front. The driver left the limo, the door open long enough to note a hive of activity. I was about to get out, as I thought she would, but she was focused upon trying to explain, and I wanted to listen. "I, unlike you, was at every board meeting possible. For every division. It's not just because I was interested in the company Mr. Andrews, Rod...It was that, when I had worked my way up, through various shakeups and company layoffs I kept going. I wanted to. There was something else that I couldn't put my finger on, something, something that mattered in some way that was..." she stopped, sighing. "Spivy wanted to take over. I knew that. The minute he came on board to the company he began trying to inject his initiatives into everything we did. His company, Carlyle, all the others he had worked at before that. That's how they work. That's how they all work." she said, now getting irate. I did my best to sit and listen. I felt, even now feel it's the least I could do for her. She went on.'

"He had talked about it practically the minute he walked in the door. One of his first initiatives was to question the legitimacy of your responsibility. We, who were on the board before him, knew this was just the same tactic as before, the same rhetoric they all use. He's vigorous, Spivy, he kept at it. He wouldn't stop. I believe he saw what he was doing as righteous. It was frightening to watch and I wasn't the only one who felt it Mr. Andrews."

"I kept in close contact with PTEKK Legal of course, simply because I like to observe all our departments. When you've worked as long as I have, your work becomes your hobby. Our chief, and surprisingly only attorney, Mr. Walker felt the same apparently I kept in contact with him constantly, through documents and phone calls, and he managed to be capable of completing all the legal legwork we had, every day. It was inhuman. But I can see why Spivy and his new man would have to detain him. But regardless of his irrational nature Mr. Andrews and clear mania, disturbed beyond my understanding, he means well for you. He saw something else in you, in what you were doing. Your, our lawyer...believes in you. And...so do I..."

'She was softening again. "You may be some brilliant man, or clairvoyant, or some faker I don't know. I don't care anymore. What I do know is that whether or not you wanted to take their way of life, or live it as your own, you didn't want their version. You couldn't accept it because it was fallible. Because it was manufactured and thrust upon you like an unwanted gift. You knew that, whether you realize it or not. I know it. Though you're not aware, and weren't before my employment I'm sure, I've been in business for a long time. I know, real, when I see it. I know drive when I see it. Truth. Value, in a way that extends beyond words. I see it in you."

'I didn't know what to say exactly. This complete stranger, whose name I didn't even know firsthand, had saved my life over simply seeing something. Something beyond her and my feral lawyer, beyond me.'

"Don't forget this." she said, handing over the envelope. "Preparations are underway here. You'll find everything you wanted Mr. Walker to include was within." The documents I had been ferrying back and forth between the scientist and our attorney it seemed, was for some other concern than just patents. "I have assembled a new law team, good people, who have just informed me, via this," pointing to her Panel, another PTEKK innovation, "that the arraignment process of Mr. Walker has been subverted for now, on the grounds of a lack of evidence. It seems they're also releasing Mr. Walker from Bellvue, but with Spivy around I'm not sure how long we'll have."

"Everything you had planned is working Mr. Andrews. It's not your fault it happened, even if it's your fault you didn't see it coming when you should have. As you said in one of your press dockets, 'Everyone makes mistakes, it's just what you learn from them that counts.'" she said. Those were the scientist's words unfortunately. I wish I could take credit for them. "Good Luck Mr. Andrews. We're all, all of us, rooting for you."

'She grasping my hand, softly, and kissed it as such. "For luck." she whispered, leaning to the door and out of the limo, into the din outside. I was awestruck. It was then I think Diary3.0...well...when you had spent so long as me, I guess you could say 'avoiding' everything around me, no matter how I tried or just whose cells had become accustomed to doing so, I was still having an impact on the lives around me. Unbeknownst to me entirely. 'Hindsight is 20/20 Diary3.0, and experience the spectacles we all should wear.' That was one of mine though, not the Doctor's.'

'I got out of the limo in the hazy floor room. The driver, had apparently waited until the two of us were finished, now got back into the limo and it purred alive. Around me was the buzzing of work and focus, with a megaphone belting out inaudible directives. Just above me was what looked like some sort of missile vehicle. It was left hanging, in stasis on a large retractable arm, now half-extended, with tubes and hoses connected and steaming angrily every which way. I nearly fell over when I felt the jolt of the limo moving upward, up out of the same open slot it came from.'

"Mr. Andrews!" a white lab-coated man approached. "My name is Arthur Winkler, I'm the Chief Scientist of PTEKK Interstellar, and I'd love to chat with you sometime but the window is short unfortunately."

'He led me over to a ladder, with a large black canvas duffel bag adjacent. "I wish we had better options available for your safety Mr. Andrews, but at the moment this isn't so. Ms. Terenstry wished you the best in passing again, as they had to leave to gain a corroborating story."

"Corroborating story? What do you mean?" I howled over the winding and buzzing.'

'He smiled. "Ms. Terenstry, and your attorney. Even her limousine driver. They arranged to have you spirited away aboard this, for your own safety." he said, gazing up at the arm. I noticed when I looked up as well that it wasn't a missile. It was of the same chassis and design as our normal models. The Kommissar 5000, or the Kelvary consumer model.

"They wanted you to be able to escape arrest. An unjustified arrest if I could agree sir. Mr. Andrews." he continued. I will do what I can, though I'm not certain if the Justice Department, as equipped as you've made them unfortunately, will be able to be staved off for long. The limo you arrived in, its driver briefly made note of an armed conflict which you evaded. It's only a matter of time then before they find where you are. Here. But you'll be gone." he said, smiling. He motioned me over to the ladder, placing his hand on it.'

"If I can say Mr. Andrews, while we don't have much time, you must understand how much I respect you. As a scientist, as a thinker, as a man. My colleagues, at previous posts that I had been were more than complicit to not share, or create innovations for the sole purposes of merely doing so. Just for the sake of it. They were lulled into the belief that the world was inherently self-destructive, like an underdeveloped mind that refuses to accept itself. They did not care that the world they were making as designed to debilitate itself unnaturally. It was irresponsible, and cheapened all of us. Value was just what our ideas would make in fiscal reports and annual analysis. It didn't matter that it was doing good, or doing bad..." he trailed off. For another man I didn't even know, I was being offered a respect I wasn't accustomed to.

"You're a lucky man Mr. Andrews, I can say that much. Please, take the ladder. Get out while you still can. We'll be here waiting when you come back."

'He smiled, and I carefully approached. He stooped, and groaned as he lifted the large duffel bag, nearly heaving it at me.'

"You'll need this of course. Essentials. Food, water, 3 comfort suits and 3 sleeping suits. There is a helmet and other equipment already aboard."

"Wait...wait a goddamn minute I'm going to space?"

"Don't be apprehensive sir, the innovations PTEKK has given to humanity have helped us to perfect space flight, well, at least by experimentations and what they've shown. We weren't going to make it public that we had until the next fiscal quarter, but Ms. Terenstry felt due to impending and now obvious circumstances that we should wait."

'He pointed up to the arms, waving a finger across his PTEKK Panel, showing an indepth analysis. "A varying shielding system, based and upgraded upon and from out previous design, to prevent you from minute dust particles and radiation is aboard. In addition, your power systems are the standard Electron Cell PTEK manufactures, with a twist. There's a new cowl induction system which allows you to recycle much of the gasses and minerals that are in space, into power. Finally, we've managed to install and perfect, at least from experimentation mind you, an oxygen recycling system. This works in tandem with the cowl induction system, and converts much of that into oxygen, with the help of the Electron Cell." he bolted happily.'

'He was the type who loved his work, but I clearly didn't understand, and was even more nervous. He noticed. "All I can say for certain if it works or not, it's better than being arrested is it not?" he asked. He was right. My carelessness had boiled my options down to two: Leave now, or hope for a fair trial, which was looking less and less likely the longer I remained. I threw the duffel bag's strap around me and over my shoulder, and climbed the rungs to the vehicle above.'

'It was smooth and streamlined, more so than anything else I'd seen from PTEKK. The arm I saw was merely a launch mechanism, and there was an open hatch that glowed with dials and lights within. I took one last look at Mr. Winkler, who smiled and waved me on. I pulled myself into the craft, which was firm under the arm's grip.'

'Inside was the standard interior of the PTEKK Kommissar, but obviously as the Scientist would say, 'with a twist,' Since this one had been capable of space travel, it was larger. There were vertical sleeping bays, and storage closets full of tools, diagnostic, mining, and other arrays of equipment. I only noticed this in passing at first, as I climbed to the front. These models have a seat which allows the user to lie down on their stomach, much like the small submarines bore PTEKK's inception or creation. There were two joysticks, that could be changed or altered according to the pilot's liking, as well as other features. One gaping difference between this one and the others Diary3.0, was that there were no windows. None at all. I was put off at first before I heard various crackles being emitted from the headset.'

"Hello? Mr. Andrews if you wouldn't mind..." I heard a voice, Mr. Winkler's, and picked up the headpiece. Once I had it on I could hear clearly:

"Mr. Andrews? Glad to have you with us again. If you wouldn't mind pressing the third green switch from the left it will send a signal to the arm to extend."

'I did, and felt a noticeable shift instantly. Beneath me, the bent arm was now beginning to point itself outwards, out of the main opening the limo had come and gone from. I could hear more megaphones and shuffling about over Mr. Winker's instructions.'

"Ok, well done Mr. Andrews. I need you now to open the main valve on the larger red button. This will signal the arm to disconnect the electrical arm and charging mechanisms and will seal the hatch."

'I did so, to another shudder. 4 or 5 hoses came shooting off on each side and the door I had come from whirred itself closed.'

"Ok Mr. Andrews, last part, I need you to press the-"

'There was an explosion in the background of wherever he was transmitting from. The microphone crackled, shouting and a gunshot in the background.'

"Mr. Andrews we are out of time. You must press the yellow switch under the larger Green button, next t the red one you just pushed. It will unlock the vessel from the arm's main hold and will begin the countdown. Hold onto both of the joysticks as firmly as you can until you're clear of orbit. When you grab them it will automatically activate the internal safety harness."

"Wha, how do I?"

"This was expected Mr. Andrews and anticipated in advanced. You can access the computer for further information. You're out of time, you have to go now. Good luck Mr. Andrews. Godspeed." he faded out, screams and more gunshots in the background. Flicking the flap over it, I took a deep breath, hit the switch, held it, then mashed the green button.'

"T-Minus 15 seconds" Winkler's computer voice said.

'I breathed out. Even then I expected it to be immediate. It counted down on a small screen nearby in large computer digital. As it reached 7 the vehicle was shuddering. I heard a large 'bup', an explosion outside, and the spattering of what could only have been gunshots. It was at 2 when the rocking vehicle began to ascend, veering off the arm at 1 and into the night at 0.'

'The shuddering, the vibration was unbearable. This was long before PTEKK had adapted the shielding coefficient for planetary travel, or were inspired enough to combine neuro-genics, at least yet. But it was monolithic for me. Mr. Spivy had said I was thought to be a shatterer of worlds. I was now jetting away, launched from one I felt I had rendered such. Even now my brittle tired bones still ache thinking of that launch.'

'It's difficult to do as the scientist says, and simply give a little and take a little. If you're giving something small, then it's giving back something small. So it won't really shift the balances heavily. I should have known this then Diary3.0, that sometimes even if you give only what you'd consider a tidbit, you'll get back more than you can imagine. 'Life is full of possibilities, and Possibilities are full of life.' a tidbit from the Doctor I'd kept for example.'

'I was now miles above Earth, the dials and switched on autopilot. The craft's ride was surprisingly smooth, though initially bumpy, especially after being raised watching the Apollo and shuttle footage. Standard PTEKK Technology at work of course. I was sitting back, gazing into the speckled twilight wonder, then realizing that I still hadn't looked into the envelope, which said in large type font 'READ WHEN YOU HAVE LEFT ORBIT.' I peeled open the top of the envelope, and produced a large stack of paper. On the cover letter, it said in handwriting, similar to my own, The Doctor's, in large sharpie print.'

"REMAIN CALM, AND PLEASE TURN THE PAGE"

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11.

<We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for a Special Bulletin from ABC News.>

<Peter Jennings> 'Good evening I'm Peter Jennings, we interrupt your program for reports of chaotic gun battles and fighting among members of the Justice Department and Police against what has been described as 'a mix of PTEKK Security personnel' and what initial reports as describe as 'an army of robots.' We are moving to cover this as quickly as possible to give you all the information as we find out. We currently have one reporter ABC Consultant Meredith Long, who has been waiting to get on the line, we have her on line now go ahead Meredith.'

<Meredith Long> (crackling) 'Thanks Peter I am here now in front of PTEKK Intergalactic, one of the many subsidiaries of PTEKK International. What we are seeing here is chaotic, a gun battle the likes of which anyone has ever seen. We do know that the only shots fired have been on part of the military and that of the Justice Department. We do not have reports of firing done on the part of PTEKK personnel or any of the robots they have here.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Now Meredith I don't mean to stop you there but I'm sure many viewers like myself would like you to elaborate more on these robot forces.'

<Meredith Long> 'I'll describe them the best I can Peter, they are what appear to be somewhat cubicle with round-ish heads. They also all appear to have six arms, and two smaller...appendages at the centers of their chests. (explosion, more crackling)'

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith...

<Meredith Long> (second explosion)

<Peter Jennings>'Meredith what are you seeing?'

<Meredith Long> (crackling)...ry about that Peter'

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith describe what you're seeing. Describe what's happening more if you can.'

<Meredith Long> 'Peter the Justice Department and the Police have just pushed us back, they have been pushed back along the street. An advance was attempted by a coordinated SWAT team but was overcome by these robots.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Are the robots firing at the police Meredith?'

<Meredith Long> (crackle)

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith we may have to-'

<Meredith Long> 'I'm here Peter the SWAT has just attempted to route these robots from another position across the street. These machines are not firing Peter, they are not firing on police.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith who is firing down there? What's going on?'

<Meredith Long> 'Police (crackle)..rces engaged the defensive wall of PTEKK Intergalactic earlier this afternoon at around 1:30 EST to arrest and subdue the elusive creator and President of PTEKK International, Rod Andrews. After breaching the outer wall with explosives, SWAT and forces from the Justice Department were literally pushed back.'

<Peter Jennings> 'How do you mean Meredith pushed back with gunfire?'

<Meredith Long> 'No not with weapons, or anything I've ever seen before. If I can describe it, it was something like a shield, that seemed to grow outwards and pulsated. One of officers who stood within it too long described as 'being electrocuted, but still having the ability to move out of it'. It has been described as 'non-lethal' however authorities opened fire on the robots and still have been as they began advancing forward.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Are they advancing now Meredith?'

<Meredith Long> 'No Peter the robots have ceased movement. They are clustered in a ring around PTEKK Intergalactic. They appear to be just standing in place preventing the entrance of the Justice Department or the police.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith what are the PTEKK Security Personnel guarding PTEKK Intergalactic doing? Are they controlling the robots themselves, have they been working against the Justice Department and police?'

<Meredith Long> 'I was on the phone less than 5 minutes ago from one of the scientists inside PTEKK Intergalatic who handed me off to the head scientist within, Dr. Arthur Winkler. He said that the outer wall had been breached by SWAT team officials which had activated the factory's internal defense mechanisms. It would appear these systems automatically seal the plant from any entry, in or out Peter.

<Peter Jennings> 'Are you still in contact with Dr. Winkler Meredith?'

<Meredith Long> 'No, the police and everyone outside the building has lost communication with the inside. About 2 minutes after I had begun talking to him.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Earlier reports indicated Rod Andrews was inside at one point before this began. Are officials from the Justice Department aware of the location of Rod Andrews at this time?'

<Meredith Long> 'From what I gathered there was what was thought to be at first an explosion within PTEKK following the breach of the outer wall by Justice Department officials. Now what was described was a 'missile-like' device, which launched 'an experimental PTEKK flying vehicle' vertically directly upward into orbit.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Orbit as in, into space?'

<Meredith Long> 'That is what authorities as well as pedestrians have said.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith are the police implying that Rod Andrews eluded them by... going into space?'

<Meredith Long> 'It would appear so Peter. Now this morning the Justice Department seized all assets of the company in an investigation into corruption charges stemming from illicit arms sales to rebel forces in Botswana, now responsible according to the Human Rights Commission for thousands dead and tens of thousands displaced. In addition, Herbert Walker, former head of PTEKK Legal, was arrested early this morning in relation to those charges, and was described by police on the scene as being 'irate and confrontational'. After reportedly lunging at officers who attempted to look through his belongings he was subdued and has been remanded to Bellvue Mental Institution for observation and evaluation.'

<Peter Jennings> 'What are the Justice Department officials doing now? Is the military being called in?'

<Meredith Long> 'Peter just before this broadcast began I was speaking off camera to Marcus Spivy, CFO and head of PTEKK Military. Mr. Spivy has said he has been in touch with Ms. Matilda Terenstry, head of PTEKK Interstellar where we are now, and he said that she had been kidnapped by Mr. Andrews who then stole an experimental ship to evade prosecution. However communication within the facility itself has been cut off and affiliates with PTEKK Military are attempting to repair whatever damage was done to their communication equipment, and to regain control of the defense control grid which appears to be in command of these robots' actions. Mr. Spivy said he would rather not have to call in the military and will work side by side with the Justice Department to ensure the speedy expedition of this situation.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith what updates do you have regarding Ms. Terenstry?'

<Meredith Long>(crackle)

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith...Meredith. I'm afraid we're going to have to go to another correspondent if you can't-'

<Meredith Long> 'I'm here Peter I was just talking to one of the coordinators of this, Ren Jameston, newly appointed head of PTEKK Security, a subdivision of PTEKK Military. From what he has told me in regards to Matilda Terenstry is that she is unharmed, and will be delivering a statement in within the hour. She will be not only taking questions on behalf of the conflict at PTEKK itself and the current circumstances I and many others are currently seeing, but also will be answering questions regarding the corruption allegations, and allegations of arms trading in Botswana, and the now unknown whereabouts of PTEKK Corporate Mogul Rod Andrews.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith can we assume, with this shakeup of sorts that there will be a leadership change at PTEKK as the result?'

<Meredith Long> 'That is what I seem to be getting from down here Peter. Mr. Spivy appeared quite 'vitriol' according to some of the PTEKK Military and Justice Department consultants down here, after the discovery a clause in the charter, mandated by now ousted former PTEKK Legal head Herbert Walker. This clause, essentially from my understanding, allows a chairperson of a certain division to be allowed to take control of the company in the event that the leadership in essence has collapsed. Now as the result of Rod Andrews disappearance, it would appear that this clause nominates Ms. Matilda Terenstry as president pro tempore of PTEKK International. Mr. Spivy has said that he will work in accordance with the Justice Department and from what he said to me earlier, calls the clause 'undemocratic' and 'dubious'.'

<Peter Jennings> 'So Ms. Terenstry has inherited PTEKK?'

<Meredith Long> 'Mr. Spivy and Mr. Jameston have both assured me that this management change is only temporary, as the clause itself is 'the byproduct of a passed official, whose weight and word no longer has bearing in this corporation. PTEKK will work in accordance with the Justice Department to the swiftest and fullest extent possible.' Those words from Marcus Spivy himself, adding regarding the clause that it was 'undemocratic' and 'dubious in nature.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith.'

<Meredith Long> (crackle)

<Peter Jennings> 'Meredith, Meredith our producers are telling us that we have to cut you off you're breaking up. We'll check back in with Meredith Long close to PTEKK Intergalactic, the site of what was described earlier as 'chaotic', this being a prolonged battle engaged currently between PTEKK officials on both sides, and the Justice Department laying siege...We're being given an update right now...it is from another one of our correspondents who is awaiting the arrival of Ms. Matilda Terenstry, which from what we've learned has been appointed president and chairman pro tempore of PTEKK International. We take you now live to John Reynolds, our chief consultant in the DC region where the chairman pro tempore plans to speak. John.'

<John Reynolds> 'Thank you Peter, I'm here now outside Justice Department Headquarters awaiting for the arrival of the chairwoman pro tempore. Now this shakeup has generated a lot of heat in the DC area, but it's being felt especially on the Stock Market, PTEKK's stock plunging over 100 points at the news of all this down 40 points from this morning after the Justice Department announced that it would begin its investigation. As mentioned 43 year old former PTEKK Legal head Herbert Walker was removed by board approval early this morning with PTEKK's compliance with the Justice Department acting under a tip who at this time was identified as Marcus Spivy age 52, currently the head of PTEKK Military which from what I have been told by Mr. Spivy on the phone and by officials of the Justice Department here, have been engaged in what would be described as a 'siege' outside the headquarters of PTEKK Intergalatic.'

<Peter Jennings> 'Now John we were just speaking to Meredith Long, currently outside PTEKK Intergalactic, we'll have a camera team out there to give the viewers a picture of what's going on, but she was speaking of what pedestrians and officials there on the scene described as a 'launch' occurred, we're unsure at this time whether it was a missile of some sort or something like it, could you elaborate on anything you know from there?'

<John Reynolds> 'I can tell you what I've been told and what I've seen here Peter, Marcus Spivy as I mentioned was talking to reporters earlier and was answering questions via teleconference from his location outside PTEKK Intergalactic. We have that for you now.'

<rolls footage>

<Marcus Spivy from inside Hover Limo> 'Good afternoon and in some cases night for those of you in the press, I can take your questions at this time. You first in the front left.'

<George Miller> 'Thank you for taking my question Mr. Spivy I'm John Miller, USA Today, and my question was regarding the allegations and charges stemming from incidents in Botswana, would you care to comment on behalf of PTEKK or yourself at this time?'

<Marcus Spivy> 'John I'd like to refer all questions regarding the allegations at this time to my newly appointed head of PTEKK Security and Chief of Internal Affairs, Mr. Ren Jameston.'

<Ren Jameston, headrest camera moving sideways> 'Thank you Mark, I began my investigation into the allegations the day the were presented to me when I was hired at PTEKK. These allegations showed that a great deal of advanced weaponry was delivered into the hands of ethnic rebels in regions surrounding the capital of Goborone for the past 6 months. From sealed documents seized by the Justice Department, we can tell that PTEKK Legal, specifically former attorney and head Herbert Walker, that communiqués were wired back and forth from towns located on the border specifying discrepancies of weight between normal shipments of Electron Cells.'

<George Miller> 'Are these documents available for public record?'

<Ren Jameston> 'I am being told that in the early morning hours, one of the final acts of Herbert Walker was to find oversight within one of the warrants regarding the mere opening of the files themselves. It will not be until his arraignment, which was delayed until tomorrow morning where we can gain access to the contents of those files with the authority of the court.'

<George Miller> 'Two more questions if you wouldn't mind Mr. Jameston, I know I'm getting the evil eye from others here.'

<Ren Jameston> (smiles)'Take your time.'

<George Miller> 'Where were these locations exactly and how did you gain this information?'

<Ren Jameston> 'These locations of arms trading were directly on the Botswana border to the south near the capital, and what we have established the majority of this illicit traffic was done between the towns of Zeerust, and continuing North along the N4 Motorway, and along the N18 Motorway converting to the R503, beginning in the south near the Mafikeng Industrial region.'

'A task force I've established within PTEKK Security this past week at the behest of my old friend and now business associate Marcus Spivy has acquired information, of what appears to be an autonomous factory in this region, which is producing even now arms, advanced munitions, and what I have been told by reliable sources as a 'robot army', similar to what we have seen here today at PTEKK Intergalactic. This plant we have assumed was not known of by the board of directors of PTEKK Enterprises, and had been supplied through illicit funds gained by the sales through financial records of the logistics companies seized by Interpol and the Justice Department in a pre-dawn raid of an accounting firm in near the city center of Capetown.'

<George Miller> 'Thank you Mr. Jameston one more question, one on everyones' mind I'm sure, do you know where whereabouts of Rod Andrews at this time? Or does the Justice Department?'

<Ren Jameston> 'We at PTEKK do not at this time. Neither does the Justice Department. From what we have ascertained from Mr. Walker thus far, and from the evident evasion of arrest by Rod Andrews himself, we suspect that coupled with statements from the scene here, that he managed to escape into orbit, apparently high jacking another craft, this one experimental, designed solely for the usage in outer space. I can tell you that in collaboration with the Justice Department had been tracked there through the computer guidance system of the limousine which he hijacked according to what we assume so far. We can tell you that Ms. Terenstry and her limousine driver were found nearby PTEKK Intergalatic, both safe and unharmed. Ms. Terenstry from what I'm told was destined after the meeting for a visit in Washington after the emergency board meeting where all of this began. I am being given information over my Panel that she has touched down in here Washington moments ago and will be giving a statement to you all to verify this shortly.'

<George Miller> 'Thank you Mr. Jameston, Mr. Spivy.'

<Marcus Spivy (slightly off camera, moving it back over)> 'Next question, you near the right, Ms. Thomas.'

<Helen Thomas> 'Saves me an introduction, thank you.'

<Marcus Spivy>(laughs)

<Helen Thomas> 'Now pardon me if you will I've lost my place as Mr. Miller has already asked some of the questions I have. I would like to first ask about these Electron Cells, many people know that they've been used for the innovative new power gains sustained by PTEKK Enterprises and its new technology. Is it normal procedure for these Electron Cells to simply get misplaced? It seems like an expensive mistake if you ask me.'

<Marcus Spivy> 'Electron Cell Transports do not normally travel among normal flight vehicle traffic as their cargo is highly precious and potentially unstable under pressurized conditions. They're normally delivered, if required by cross continent travel, by lower flying aircraft. If Cells themselves are ahead of production as they have been we can assign them to various freighter operations. It takes longer time but in the long run it delivers the product safer than the method we had just mentioned. I would also like to make note that the flight method is done with safety in mind as well, by diverting flight routes away from habitable zones and places where human population is high. We at PTEKK, whatever the future may hold for this company, emphasize safety above all things.'

<Helen Thomas> 'It seems we're only as safe as you and others allow us to be Mr. Spivy.'

<Marcus Spivy>(chuckles) 'We're all in it together Ms. Thomas.'

<Helen Thomas> 'If you could Mr. Spivy please elaborate on the security of your department. I don't mean to pry but you are head of PTEKK Military and this would appear to be a military concern. Where did these allegations come from within your department?'

<Marcus Spivy> 'I will refer again to my consultant and business associate Mr. Jameston.'

<Ren Jameston, moving camera> 'Ms. Thomas Mr. Spivy brought this allegations to me personally. Mr. Spivy had discovered alterations and discrepancies between his own ledgers he personally kept and those of the total inventory of PTEKK military as a whole. He found that per 300 units of Hard-line Electron Cells, used specifically for powering of major armor and other weapon devices from PTEKK Military, that 2 were missing. It was small and unnoticeable at first as the result of heightened production and demand. He wanted to inform the other board members but felt that he wouldn't have the right opportunity to determine just what was happening. without backing from the Justice Department, the SEC, and the Treasury Department to aid in the freezing of assets for the company.'

<Helen Thomas> 'Thank you Mr. Jameston, getting back to you Mr. Spivy-'

<Ren Jameston> 'I would also like to add I have known Marcus through our work together over the years and his work at Carlyle and I know him as an honest man. The fact that under heavy scrutiny he came forward to reveal responsible parties is a somber one and shouldn't be forgotten.'

<Helen Thomas> 'Thank you Mr. Jameston. Mr. Spivy, one more question for you, if you wouldn't mind.'

<Marcus Spivy, turning camera> 'Go ahead Ms. Thomas.'

<Helen Thomas> 'Why do you think your boss Mr. Rod Andrews, who has been in the spotlight for some time and is renowned in the public eye, would suddenly escape like this? Even if they allegations are false?'

<Marcus Spivy> 'Well unfortunately Ms. Thomas, his actions alone would suggest otherwise. I mean what other reasons would he have to run? Why would he do that? If you're watching this Mr. Andrews, please, for the sake of justice, PTEKK International and the people of Earth, come home. Wherever you are, however you can, come back and stand in accordance with justice. Come back to Earth and face the music.'

<Helen Thomas> 'Thank you very much Mr. Spivy'

<Marcus Spivy> 'You're welcome, and you there with the red tie in the middle.'

<Ben Kaiser> 'Thanks, Ben Kaiser, Wall Street Journal, PTEKK's stock has dropped almost 150 points in the wake of all this, uh, this turmoil, it's still trading high, this being one of your most robust fiscal seasons to date, an amazing feat especially for such a young company, do you feel the shareholders are in for turbulent times with this leadership shakeup?'

<Marcus Spivy> 'I'd like to personally reassure our investors that while this is a fluctuation in the trading of our company's stock, it is merely such, and nothing more. While I'm confident that-'

<Peter Jennings> 'I'm sorry, John, Meredith, I'm going to have to interrupt Mr. Spivy's questioning, we go live now to the White House, not outside Justice Department Headquarters where Ms. Terenstry, newly appointed president pro tempore of PTEKK International was expected to make a statement. We apologize ladies and gentlemen and take you now to the Office of the President, where President Ronald Reagan wishes to address the American people.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

<Ronald Reagan> 'Let me begin with a brief statement. As many of you may already know, members of our Justice Department were, and still are engaged to a degree against a robot force defending PTEKK Intergalactic, as part of what I have been informed is part of the factory's internal security system.'

<Ronald Reagan> 'This system, was activated at the behest of the head of PTEKK Intergalactic, Ms. Matilda Terenstry, who has personally come to me with information. Damning testimony against one of the same individuals responsible for the siege on the factory itself, Mr. Marcus Spivy.'

<Ronald Reagan,> 'According to her personal and sworn affadavit, given to me and the attorney general who she personally requested present, she delivered to me sealed documents, passed to her by the now former head of PTEKK Legal, Mr. Herbert Walker. According to Ms. Terenstry, it was Marcus Spivy, who was not only knowledgeable about the events which led to the allegations of corruption and misconduct, but also the illicit arms sales to rebel fighters in Botswana. In addition, she also testified before myself and the attorney general, under oath, that she herself has evidence which not only links Mr. Spivy's involvement with the activity, but documents of shell accounts, used to launder illicit funds then reintroducing them back as bonds he could then acquire and had held for some time from PTEKK, hidden in various deposit boxes whose keys were discovered in his office by a joint FBI and Secret Service task force about thirty-five minutes ago. These boxes themselves were at various branches of Riggs Banks throughout the Washington DC area, all signed for and registered to, Marcus Spivy, head of PTEKK Military. Agents with both bureaus only had to open one to find the illicit bonds within. Ms. Terenstry according to what details she has of his actions, believes that he may have taken over 4.5 billion in falsely reported revenue as the result of his actions. In in possession as well, is an audio tape, where Mr. Spivy himself is heard unsympathetically delivering his own vision for prosperity. I've heard many statements like it in my life already. It reminds me of something I said once, a long time ago, but with a twist. some of you may remember; I have an uncomfortable feeling, about that vision, his prosperity, or one based on a singular principles like those, is not something on which we can base our hopes for the future.'

<Ronald Reagan, showing half screen of Spivy and scene at PTEKK Intergalactic> 'I have also been informed, that a plot was arranged in an attempt on the life of PTEKK President and CEO, Rod Andrews. Our friend, a patriotic American, fled, with the noble aid of Ms. Terenstry, not to avoid prosecution or questioning, but because Ms. Terenstry and the other board members felt he was not safe. Not safe in the hands of the Justice Department. Not safe in his own country after giving so much but asking so little. Not even safe on earth itself. We have to ask ourselves America, how would any of us react to a conflict against ourselves, we knew to be unjust and questionable? Some would be willing to stand up to such charges, seeing it as an affront to their character. From what Ms. Terenstry has told me, Mr. Andrews wanted to do as such. But it was the recommendation, of the board and of Ms. Terenstry, that he do otherwise. To leave earth to see that justice had prevailed in his absence, or at least return to the fight another day when ready.'

<Ronald Reagan> 'I have given instructions to the Attorney General that Mr. Spivy be placed under arrest, for the charges stemming from the original allegations. I have also given instructions, to detain Mr. Ren Jameston, for questioning to determine his and PTEKK Security's involvement into a potential coverup. We will be in close contact with the Justice Department, the FBI, and the Secret Service, to keep all of you updated of all events and manipulations uncovered. To aid in your awareness my fellow Americans, I yield the floor to PTEKK International President pro tempore, Ms. Matilda Terenstry'

<Matilda Terenstry, walks over and takes the podium as Mr. Reagan stands to her back right> 'Thank you Mr. President, Good evening America and people of the world. As you already know, I have assumed a temporary role of leadership at PTEKK International. I wish to let the members of PTEKK International's board to know that I am alive and well, and I was not abducted. The assumption that I had been kidnapped, was simply that. The board of directors and I, with new information that I had been ascertained yesterday, were aware of intentions by one of our board members and division heads, Mr. Marcus Spivy, of PTEKK Military. With this new information, the board and I came to a conclusion moments ago via teleconference. Under the provisions awarded to me with the status gained of president pro tempore, my first directive is the removal of Marcus Spivy from his position at PTEKK Military, and for his termination of employment from PTEKK International, effective immediately. My second directive, is the removal of newly appointed head of PTEKK Security, Mr. Ren Jameston. Whether or not he held any form of responsibility or collaboration between himself and Mr. Spivy has yet to be determined. In the best interests towards the Justice Department, our shareholders, and the United States of America, we, the current board of directors feels this to be the most appropriate and steadfast measure we can enact at the moment, until more facts are brought to light. In order to assist the Justice Department, the Treasury Department, the FBI and the SEC in whatever way possible, all PTEKK's records from each department will be available for scrutiny, to ensure that the actions of Mr. Spivy and his malevolent agents do not tarnish the reputation this company has achieved for America and for earth itself.'

<Matilda Terenstry> 'In addition, I have just received an automated status report over my Panel, that Rod Andrews is in fact alive and well, and has just passed beyond the lunar boundary of normal communications. I do know that he is in an experimental PTEKK craft and it has been pre-programmed with a trajectory to bring him back within a week and a half. It's unfortunate, that the first human being to travel beyond any of what has been previously charted, previously, mapped, was deemed a criminal, and hunted as one., without proof, by members of our government. But it is a mere trifle. It is the combined mission of PTEKK International to conquer space flight, and deliver it to all citizens of America, of earth. If I can remember some fond words of our President's, if you wouldn't mind Mr. President I think it went as something like "We have a rendezvous with destiny." Well, it's true. You, I, all of us, are fast approaching our rendezvous with destiny, as we all knew, felt, we would. Thank you and God Bless America.'

<Peter Jennings, amidst the flash bulbs on both Terenstry and Reagan> 'An amazing twist in events tonight, what we are witnessing is clearly monumental and historic. For those of you just tuning in Matilda Terenstry, newly appointed President Pro-Tempore of PTEKK International officially and under oath testifying to her and her board members' knowledge regarding a coup d'etat within the company itself. We will bring you more information and analysis as we get it, we'll be back after a brief commercial break.'

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12.

'I hadn't even turned the first page when I started to feel ill. The craft had just broken orbit into space, freeing itself from the minor shuddering which held it back. We were free flying now and there wasn't any gravity. My stomach noticed, by ejecting my breakfast. I remember letting go of the joysticks, which unlocked the safety harness. Even remembering the smell, trying to wipe it away from my face and the panels in the weightlessness is still the most revolting aspect of space travel I remember to this day. On a related note Diary3.0 I tried leaving orbit once at a later date without eating breakfast, just to see what would happen. I would up sick for about a week and a half. I heard a blip on the center unit's heads up display, followed by a computerized voice.'

'HELLO <UNKNOWN USER>, PLEASE WAIT...READING BIOMETRIC SIGNATURE. SIGNATURE FOUND IN PREVIOUS DATABASE FROM PTEKK CHARACTERISTICS. WELCOME <ROD ANDREWS> IF THIS IS NOT YOU, PLEASE PRESS '1'. IF THIS IS YOU, PLEASE PRESS '2'.'

This was my first encounter with the PTEKK computer systems and what would later be a precursor to Artificial Intelligence. Yet it was painfully familiar in a way I did not like. For obvious reasons. I mashed the 2.'

'HELLO USER <ROD>. VOICE SYSTEMS NOW ACTIVATED FOR CONVENIENCE.'

"Thank God"...

'USER <GOD> NOT FOUND. WOULD YOU LIKE TO SET UP NEW ACCOUNT DETAILS?'

'I was over my head, as usual' "No."

'UNPROCESSED FOOD MATERIALS DETECTED, WOULD USER <ROD> LIKE ME TO CLEAN IT UP?'

"Uhm, yes?"

'EJECTION SYSTEM ENGAGED, EJECTION SYSTEM DISENGAGED, PLEASE RE-ENGAGE SAFETY HARNESS'

'I had already forgotten that the joysticks activated the safety harness. Leering around the floating eggs and bacon I clutched the joysticks.'

'REPEAT ONE OF PREVIOUS INQUIRY: UNPROCESSED FOOD MATERIALS DETECTED, WOULD USER <ROD> LIKE ME TO CLEAN IT UP? THIS COMMAND QUERY WILL BE REPEATED AN ADDITIONAL <4> TIMES, OVER THE NEXT <4> MINUTES UNTIL-'

"Yes!" 'The computer systems are still a pain in the ass. The company which we had absorbed to develop the computer voice was formerly a hardware and software provider for telemarketing services. After hearing it once I was not surprised in the slightest.'

'EJECTION SYSTEM ENGAGED'

'I hadn't expected this to happen, though the words 're-engage safety harness' should have been enough to encourage the thought it could. The cabin itself began to depressurize slightly, much of its air being quickly sucked past me and back. My stomach acids, my breakfast, but more importantly the papers. They streamed past me to the back, to the incinerator for the turbine, as I realized I hadn't even read them all. I un-clutched the joystick, while immediately cut off the air drain and the harness.'

'EJECTION SYSTEM DISENGAGED, PLEASE RE-ENGAGE SAFETY HARNESS'

'I scrambled to the back, to a vent near the vertical sleeping area. It led to a compartment which seemed to lead into a duct system, and I'd find later would lead to a turbine which dissolved it into power. One way or another, my bile ridden mess was gone, but so were 4 pages of what was inside the envelope. I'd discover this of course, when it was already too late.'

'I remember fumbling them all together, trying to look at the page numbers which had been written on. I could tell that the pages had come from the back of the stack, close to where it had included from what I now know was timeline of future assignments. I couldn't get these pages back. They were long gone, incinerated in the thrusters of this engine, bound for wherever the auto pilot desired.'

'As I examined the documents further, what was included, was from the scientist's own hand. Secret PTEKK sealed documents which included the route of the auto pilot, a brief instruction guide to the ship and its functions, and what I know now as my 'checklist.' I still have it with me in my coat pocket. It's been altered many times, attempting to gauge and guide my actions these years past. I'm sure the scientist has something similar, or he wouldn't have made a checklist for me.'

'It would appear as though my journey would be unabated. My flight time had been greatly reduced with innovations the scientist outlined in the added pamphlets, including a propulsion system which the scientist must have been keeping a secret. It was capable of working in tandem with the shield to reduce the overall mass of the vehicle, and myself. Essentially, we were lighter than half a proton, but going progressively faster along through our solar system. Mars, Venus, Saturn, whizzed by it seemed. I would find out later this this technology would pioneer what we know as trans-dimension hopping, or TransFlash, the PTEKK version.'

'I had noticed earlier that the buttons surrounding the cockpit where a type of button I hadn't seen before. In essence, it was almost like a projection, but with no emanating light sources, nothing bright that I could see aside from the numbers, letters, and various percentages that shifted and morphed every few seconds or so. PTEKK Panels with the same type of projection technology were all about the front cockpit region too. The computer, as irritating as it was to hear, had our entire flight path mapped and routed on a similar projection screen in the center front, where I had heard the computer's 'blip' before. But the coup de resistance was the camera system. The entire outer shell of the vehicle had been lined with microscopic cameras, smaller than anything even I had seen at the time. This was connected to a large projection screen that paneled around the entire cabin itself. I could pan any direction, it was literally like having eyes in the back of your head. Clearly the scientist had splurged to ensure that I had a safe journey, and I couldn't blame him.'

'I continued to flip through the packet, outlining this and that. What was most likely going on back on Earth if everything went according to his plan of my escape, where the food and waste receptacles were and 10 reasons why you should never confuse the two. He included a complete booklet on how to cook a breakfast in space, how to work the exhaust venting systems in tandem with the waste units, how to work the cameras at various angles and various other how to's, how not's, and should nots. There were also pages in the back outlining some future event that was to take place, but it was all out of order and written in his classic microscopic hand.'

'One thing he did not include however, is something that definitely should have been listed among the should nots or at least the how not's. This could easily have been so, given that 4 of the pages which held what I'd later to determine to be the most vital of the Scientist's instructions. They had been sucked into the main turbine with my undigested meal. This one thing of course, was that damn orange button.'

'In the center of the main heads-up display, where I had mentioned the 'blip' emanating from, was this damn orange button. It wasn't hidden, but it wasn't obvious either. Nestled around the edge of the seat, out of sight just enough to compel you to notice its edges, wondering what it did and why you didn't know. Of course, this is the reason why the Doctor had given me a list of instructions, many of which had been chewed up by the turbine. Looking back though, if I hadn't lost them, who knows what would have happened? Hindsight is 20/20 after all. Needless to say Diary3.0, as whoever is hearing this may have guessed, of course I pressed that button. How could I not?'

'Now this button wasn't a self-destruct mechanism or anything, but what it did do was turn off the auto-pilot, right as we had reached the very rim of our galaxy. This meant of course, that I had to rifle through the packets of small printed schematically written instructions from the Doctor, all in pencil and a millimeter wide in margins while the Kommissar 5000 look-a-like spun around haphazardly. Meanwhile I knew if I got sick again I couldn't let the computer activate the ejection systems. At least not first without stopping this spinning and finding a place to keep them safe, or at least a paperclip to bind them.'

'I grasped the controls, which activated the safety harness and my only friend in all of space finally noticed there was a problem.'

'USER <ROD> AUTOPILOT SYSTEMS HAVE BEEN DISENGAGED. IF USER <ROD> WOULD LIKE ME TO REACTIVATE THE AUTOPILOT SYSTEM, PLEASE PRESS THE ORANGE BUTTON LOCATED ON THE CENTER HEADS UP DISPLAY PAD. IF YOU NEED ASSISTANCE, PLEASE PRESS-'

'I tapped the orange button repeatedly until it stopped talking. It whirred, clicked, thudded, and stopped.

'USER <ROD> AUTOPILOT SYSTEMS HAVE BEEN DISENGAGED. IF USER <ROD> WOULD LIKE ME TO REACTIVATE THE AUTOPILOT SYSTEM, PLEASE PRESS THE ORANGE BUTTON LOCATED ON THE CENTER HEADS UP DISPLAY PAD. IF YOU NEED ASSISTANCE, PLEASE PRESS-'

"Yes God dammit!" I slammed the orange button repeatedly.'

'Now, Diary3.0, to know me, is to know an impatient man, but I am merely that. A man. All men are subject to the same trait as far as I have seen. If I had known that merely pressing the button once would have successfully reactivated the autopilot, as my Scientist friend would later tell me, I would have. But the spinning, the sickness, that damn automated computer voice, I just couldn't help it. I had created a fault within the system from flooding it with data. Needless to say, I did not know this, nor did I know much of anything about my company, what it made, or how to use it. Forbes Magazine's Man of the Year 1990, lost in space. I just knew how to sell it and make it look good. That's all the Doctor needed me for, and I did the best I could.'

'Luckily for me, the mapping systems and the other guidance dials were still working. Nothing else had shorted out except for the vehicle's autopilot, and I soon found myself cruising out of the far reached of the galaxy. I was moving quickly still, the throttle untouched. It was stressful at the time, coupled with queasiness, to pour through near microscopic text to determine which dial didn't open all the doors, and which switch didn't kill me instantly. The Doctor's 'Do Not's' list wasn't long enough, at least for me, and it took me a good twenty minutes to find which button combination allowed me to manually control the throttle in conjunction with the right joystick. It almost reminded me of a motorcycle. When I looked behind me to the peripheral projection screen, there was just a small spiral left in my wake, and I was now surrounded by them. Hundreds.'

'Rarely, Diary3.0, do we have moments in our lives where we have that feeling that spurs us to do something. But just as rarely, we experience those moments where we glimpse at understanding. To glimpse, from what I've come to understand, in some ways, is to know. We utilize all our senses, and sensing something, regardless of what it is, and whatever the manner, it's important to note that. Glimpses are things that our eyes were not supposed to see, but it's a which usually yields benefits in one way or another. Those brief moments I had, or what seemed like minute specks in the collective memory, was the only time I truly understood. And it was fleeting at that.'

'This is one of the most important notes I'd like to make in all this Diary3.0. Something which was still countered and argued against until it was too late to even care. What I'm referring to, is what happened next, and the evidence in the flightlog of the modified Kommissar I was riding in, would show this truly did occur. '

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PTEKK SECURITY

CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5

SUBJECT: ROD ANDREWS, FORMER PRESIDENT, CEO

TRANS-ORBITAL FLIGHT LOG KOMMISSAR 5000 XP (EXPERIMENTAL)

HIGHLY CLASSIFIED SHRED UPON COMPLETION

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(THIS RECORDING HAS BEEN SHORTENED IN LENGTH TO THE EVENT IN QUESTION)

<Rod Andrews> (inaudible) 'Comon' joystick work dammit. Ok there we go. I'm moving at least...this isn't so hard...wait wait wait oh sh-(LOUD COLLISION NOISE)'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'COLLISION DETECTED WITH MINOR SPACIAL DEBRIS. NO DAMAGE TO SHIELDING SYSTEM OR STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY.'

<Rod Andrews> 'Alright alright calm down Rod. Calm down. Wow... Oh wow this view! Wow this view is incredible! Hey computer...Computer I know you're there...Um...computer? Helloooo computer?' (BUTTON ACTIVATION NOISE)'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'YOU HAVE PRESSED AN INCORRECT KEY, TO GO BACK TO THE PREVIOUS MENU, MAIN MENU, PRESS 1, TO STAY IN THE CURRENT MENU, STELLAR MAP, PRESS 2'

<Rod Andrews> 'I really need to do something about this computer system when I get back. If I get back.' (BUTTON ACTIVATION NOISE)

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'WELCOME TO THE KELVARY MAIN MENU, A JOINT VENTURE OF PTEKK ENTERPRISES AND SAAB-SCANIA. TO CHOOSE FROM A LIST OF OPTIONS, PRESS 1, OR PRE-'

<Rod Andrews> (BUTTON ACTIVATION NOISE)'I thought it was a Kommissar 5000? Why are all the first letters of words capitalized on the screen? I've really gotta do something abo-'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'TO ACTIVATE THRUSTER CONTROL, PRESS 1, TO ACTIVATE AUTOPILOT CONTROLS, PRESS 2, TO ACTIV-'

<Rod Andrews> (BUTTON ACTIVATION NOISE) 'Com'on' Autopilot take me home.'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'ERROR554 FAULT. YOUR AUTOPILOT SYSTEM HAS MALFUNCTIONED. TO RETURN TO THE MAIN MENU, PRESS 1, OR-'

<Rod Andrews> (BUTTON ACTIVATION NOISE) 'Oh com'on'!'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'MAIN MENU, TO ACTIVATE THRUSTER CONTROL, PRESS 1, TO ACTIVATE AUTOPILOT CONTROLS, PRESS 2, TO ACTIVATE MANUAL PILOTING MODE, PRESS 3, TO-'

<Rod Andrews> (BUTTON ACTIVATION NOISE) 'So no Autopilot, let's see what you do.'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'WELCOME TO MANUAL PILOTING MODE. I SEE THAT YOU USER <ROD> HAVE NO HOURS LOGGED ON THIS VESSEL. IF YOU HAVE USER DATA YOU WOULD LIKE TO INPUT TO THIS VESSEL, PRESS 1. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO ACTIVATE TUTORIAL MODE, PRESS 2, IF YO-'

<Rod Andrews> (BUTTON ACTIVATION NOISE, FOLLOWED BY COCKPIT WHIRRING NOISES) 'Sounds fun...whoa WHOA this is incredible!'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'WELCOME TO YOUR FIRST FLYING LESSON USER <ROD>. PUSH BUTTON ACTION CONFIRMATION HAS BEEN DISABLED. VOICE ACTION RECOGNITION SOFTWARE ENABLED. FIRST LET'S LEARN THE BASICS. FIRST, POSITION THE JOYSTICKS IN THE FRONT CENTER OF THE COCKPIT TO YOUR PREFERRED SETTINGS. IN ADDITION, THERE ARE FOOTPEDALS AT EACH OF SIDE OF THE SEAT. BOTH OF THESE CAN BE USED TOGETHER TO CONTROL TURNING, PITCH, AND PROPULSION. YOU MAY NOW POSITION THESE TO YOUR PREFERRED SETTINGS. TO CHANGE YOUR SETTINGS IN THE FUTURE, THIS TOOL IS LOCATED IN THE USER PREFERENCES MENU. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BEGIN YOUR FLIGHT LESSON NOW USER <ROD>? IF SO, SAY YE-'

<Rod Andrews> 'Yes, alright already com'on.'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'OK, LET'S BEGIN. FIRST, LET'S LEARN DIRECTION TERMS. DO YOU KNOW WHICH SIDE PORT IS? IF SO, SAY Y-'

<Rod Andrews> 'Yes, Christ who did they build this for a 2 year old?'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'OK , LET'S TRY TURNING PORT. USE THE JOYSTICKS AVAILABLE TOGETHER TO POINT TO THE PORT SIDE.'

<Rod Andrews> 'This is so cool! Oh wow I can't believe this is happening!'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'OK, YOU'VE GAINED THE ACHIEVEMENT, PORT, CONGRATULATIONS! NOW, DO YOU KNOW WHICH SIDE STARBOARD IS? IF SO-'

<Rod Andrews> 'Yes, Child's play.'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'OK, LET'S TRY TURNING PORT. USE THE JOYSTICKS AVAILABLE TOGETHER TO POINT TO THE STARBOARD SIDE.'

<Rod Andrews> 'Ok.'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'OK, YOU'VE GAINED THE ACHIEVEMENT, STARBOARD, CONGRATULATIONS!'

<Rod Andrews> 'Gee...wow...so computer, am I going to get an achievement for everything I do in here?'

<KOMMISSAR5000> '...SORRY, DID YOU SAY, CHECK USER ACHIEVEMENT MENU? IF SO, SAY YES, IF YOU'D LIKE TO CONTINUE YOU FLIGHT LESSON, SAY NO'

<Rod Andrews> 'Yes, wait, No! Oh my god this is terrible. Whoever designed this is getting fired I'll see to-...what is that? Computer what is that?'

<KOMMISSAR5000> '...SORRY, DID YOU SAY 'FUZZY SET?' IF SO, SAY-'

<Rod Andrews> 'What? Computer what is that!?'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'SCANNING SECTOR OF USER VISUAL PROXIMITY. SCANNING. 2 UNKNOWN LARGER VESSELS APPROACHING AT HIGH SPEED. VESSEL A APPROACHING A DEFENSIVE VECTOR WITH VESSEL B APPROACHING AT DOWNWARD ARCING VECTOR. VESSEL B HAS NOW CHANGED COURSE TO INTERCEPT USER <ROD>'

<Rod Andrews> 'Computer what do I do? What do we do?'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'RECOMMENDATION: EVASIVE ACTION. IF YOU <ROD> WOULD LIKE TO ACTIVATE EVASIVE ACTION, SAY YE-'

<Rod Andrews> 'Yes! This isn't funny computer (inaudible)'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'ERROR554 FAULT. YOUR AUTOPILOT SYSTEM HAS MALFUNCTIONED. TO RETURN TO THE MAIN MENU, SAY YES. IF YOU-'

<Rod Andrews> (explosion) Oh god Oh god, what the hell was that? Computer tell me what to do! (inaubile)'

<KOMMISSAR5000> 'RECOMMENDATION: EVASIVE ACTION. AUTOPILOT EVASIVE UNAVAILABLE. IF YOU <ROD> WOULD LIKE TO ACTIVATE MANUAL CONTROL OVERRIDE, SAY YE-'

<Rod Andrews> 'Yes! (large explosion, crackling)'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

CONCLUSION: IT HAS BEEN UNDETERMINED AS OF YET AS TO THE VALIDITY OF THE CLAIMS MADE BY SUBJECT: ANDREWS, ROD, IN REGARDS TO THIS MATTER. DUE TO DAMAGE CAUSED TO THE OUTER ELECTROMAGNETIC MEMBRANE WHICH ACTS AS PART OF THE CRAFT'S SHIELDING SYSTEMS, THE REMAINDER OF THE TRANSMISSION AND FLIGHT LOGS WERE DAMAGED AND UNSALVAGEABLE.

UNLESS FURTHER REVIEW COMES TO LIGHT TO CORROBORATE OR DENY THE CLAIMS MADE BY SUBJECT ANDREWS, ROD, WE AT PTEKK CONSIDER THE MATTER CLOSED UNTIL FUTURE REVIEW.

Matilda Terenstry

PTEKK Enterprises

CEO.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

13.

'I can only describe them now as incredible large. They were both alike in appearance and were virtually the same size. What the computer described as Vessel B was firing upon the other, Vessel A.

'Both had appeared out of almost nowhere. Almost moments after there was a bright flash in the distance, almost like a star bursting far away. They were also extremely long, almost like enormous submarines from my youth's era, pre PTEKK of course. The blasts themselves were originating from various spot on the hull of Vessel B. The computer wasn't responding immediately, and I found myself caught in the wake of seismic detonations.'

"Computer! Computer!?"

'At first there wasn't any response. Only a steady yellow light, then green, followed by 3 other green blips next to it. On the center heads up display kicked up a word I hadn't seen before: 'REBOOTING'. From the context I seemed to understand what it meant. I still don't understand this damn technology.'

'There was a deep explosion off the port side as I attempted to divert that same direction. I was outgunned, and was maneuvering with dimly lit minimal power and without the aid of the deaf computer. The shielding system which also reduced the total weight wasn't functional either, as I'd find later was as the result of the seismic charges that had been launched from Vehicle B to A.'

'I realize now in retrospect that the computer system wasn't active, and wasn't able to properly record what happened next. My craft, as well as A and B, were enveloped in what appeared to be a large blue cloud, surrounding by rippling blue veins of pulsating electricity. I don't feel justice explaining it, It's more like traveling through a small, very opaque cloud, which has such color, such depth. Crossing took less than the blink of an eye but its passage was a very poignant moment for me. It was the first glimpse of what the Scientist would later create, called TransFlash, or Trans-Dimensional Flash.'

'All three of us, A, B, and me, crossed through the cloud, but Vessel A did something unexpected. It had turrets that hadn't been fired yet, one of which created a seismic effect large enough to cripple Vessel B. I was still stuck in the wake of both when Vessel B began to veer slightly off Vessel A's port. In this instant, I was sucked into through another TransFlash effect, but only with Vessel A. Vessel B was damaged, and it quickly slipped out of sight and into a blue fog at our stern.'

'In this moment, I gazed upon the other ship, Vessel A. It was turning away now to starboard, but I managed to get a good enough look at it. It stretched for what seemed like miles, an elongated cylinder in shape, with a large array of thrusters at its aft. It had no visible lights or windows that I could denote or notice. The hull was simply that and nothing more; a shell. It truly was magnificent to behold. Larger than life it seemed, or perhaps it was coupled with a slice of humble pie I had just been force fed. All things considered, I should have known. 'Always read the packet' still rings in my ear now.'

"Computer! Take a picture! Or scan it again! Or do something god dammit!"

'The screen still said 'REBOOTING' in large letters with the 4 green blips twinkling almost in unison. I remember. It hadn't responded to the center panel's number pad either. For the time being, it was completely non-functional, including the camera capturing systems themselves, and what I'd later learn would make my story somehow less credible. The interior had no windows like I had mentioned, but the cameras to see the outside itself still functioned, even though they were incapable of remembering to saving anything they had seen to their memory. If they had, it would have saved me a lot of trouble later on.'

'The ship itself Vessel A, began to almost bellow, most likely its thrusters firing forward, leaning off to a starboard course. It steered away now, gliding towards stars and places unknown. Within a few minutes it was a speck on the horizon of space, and far out in its path, I saw a blue cloud form, and swallow it into nothingness. It was the last I saw of either of those ships. At least for the time being.'

'About what seemed like two or three hours had passed until the computer's 'REBOOTING' screen went to a 'LOADING' screen. I would like to note Diary3.0, that I still hadn't become versed in how to use my technology. Granted I sold it, and sold it well enough to be lauded as some type of visionary. But that hardly makes me versed in the subject. Though, flying in space all that time, and having to deal with frustrating and excruciating problems that I had endured as the result of my horrendously designed computer system, I think it made me take stock in the interest of it all. I think it was then that I appreciated my position, my role in the company. And I felt awful at selling a product that I knew nothing about, never used, and didn't even know how to use anyway. That humbling moment, I became the CEO I was supposed to be.'

'Finally after what had seemed like a full day had elapsed, the computer screen began to display as it would normally. All the other systems had been working perfectly all along on backup electron cell power, but the other systems managed to come back on line one at a time. I still had no maneuvering or navigation. From what the computer had ascertained, I had left the Milky Way Galaxy and was in a region of previously unexplored space. But for once...I wasn't afraid, but I was overcome with emotion.'

'Space, was far more than I thought it would be. Perhaps it was the listlessness of the entire experience contributing to this feeling. Ms. Terenstry made note of that on my return. But it was fasctinating to behold. I could see the spirals and loops of other galaxies, bizarre structures that resembled something out of my biology textbook. The computer's camera systems were independent and could be set to various filters for different clouds and gasses. The passing time for the computer's diagnostic was extraordinary. I didn't even notice the time go by as it made silent progress among its internal systems. I can't believe now that I had been even reluctant to go, or had thought it wouldn't be as incredible as it was.'

'I began to search through the various menus via the keypad. Whatever had happened to the craft had disabled the Kommissar 5000's computer voice system. I couldn't have been happier to be honest. Though there were other problems with the craft as well. The shielding system had come back on, as well as the main computer and navigation systems. But there was no recorded evidence of what I had just encountered according to the computer's automated diagnostic systems. No Autoilot either. Even the toilet didn't flush. Still, I had to determine how to get back home.'

'I gazed at the main heads up panel, which illustrated the region's map that I had traveled. The computer was capable of scanning the region, and the trail of Earthen minerals I had left in the wake in the form of thruster exhaust. The trail itself according to the computer's heads-up display had a large circular 'hole' where the trail ceased and began on the other side of its diameter.'

'I'm still not certain to exactly what it was, but the computer recorded it, and it was something Doctor Rod had later said "Why didn't I remember that?" hitting himself on the forehead. That wasn't yet though, and I was still tracking the patterns of my escape craft's exhaust back to where the Milky Way was amidst the cloud of galaxies. But one thing that it did notice aside from my vessel's own exhaust, were two similar exhaust trails, coming from the same one as mine had . From the Milky Way's. Earth. I wheeled the directions around from what I had remembered from the tutorial and hit the thrust back following the trail back home.'

'During that time back Diary3.0 I managed to understand more of the maneuvering of this craft. It was incredibly agile, and the shielding systems which altered its state upon acceleration were noticeable. It was quick, but it also genuinely nerve-racking in its intensity. What was left of my breakfast was quickly making its way up my throat every time I wanted to punch it to the highest limit.'

'One of the few functional aspects of the computer's remaining systems was the music player. One of the technicians who created it, or possibly even Dr. Winkler himself had managed to find a way to break down music from cassettes or tape, to something I can merely play on a computer. The Doctor, who'd later tell me this with his head in his hands, reminded me that we had patented the ability to do so at PTEKK over six months before I had even left Earth. That blow to my ego was still to come though, I found my fear and gullet abating, and blasted off back to the Milky Way.'

'In the day that followed the computer showed that the trails stopped slightly outside our solar system, or at least the SOL sector itself. There was a similar circular shape left in the wake of the scanned exhaust over the independent camera's computer system. I knew later, that these ships had not come from Earth. At least, my Earth.'

'I grew closer and closer to the large helix that computer registered as SOL, following the trail of space crumbs I had jettisoned in my wake. I remember wondering what would happen when I arrived home. When I had left I was rendered a criminal, but now I knew I had nowhere else to go. But that's what I thought anyway, because I didn't read that damn packet Diary3.0. God damn that packet.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

14.

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<2>

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<cue music>

'Monday, January 14th 1991, this Today, with your host Faith Daniels.'

<cue anchor>

<Faith Daniels> "Good morning everyone, we begin the news today with the top story of the hour, the return of Rod Andrews from his brief escape to space. The thirty-one year old eluded Justice Department authorities, and apparently from what has been gathered, survived a coup d'etat at his company, instigated at the behest of former PTEKK Military chief and CEO Marcus Spivy. We go now live to David Arnold, who has been staking out a good place to wait for any sign of Mr. Andrews along the street outside the headquarters of PTEKK International, still in its original location. David?"

<David Arnold> "Thanks Faith, since the return of Rod Andrews from space last night, many people have speculated what may become of the reckless former CEO of PTEKK International. Now just before 10 o'clock eastern, the news had broken that Rod Andrews had entered Earth's atmosphere. Coming down over the Atlantic Ocean 100 miles off the eastern coast of Bermuda, his craft, an advanced design from PTEKK Intergalactic capable of a normal plane landing, apparently malfunctioned and required an emergency water landing. A statement released by PTEKK early this morning confirms a rescue craft was already standing by and managed to pluck Mr. Andrews and the craft from the water, less than 3 minutes after he had landed at exactly 10:01 PM EST. Now what we have been told from PTEKK International itself, is that Rod Andrews will cooperate with the instructions of the Justice Department, who at this time have not issued a warrant for his arrest or interrogation, a surprising development since it was less than a week ago that we all remember Mr. Andrews fleeing Earth, evading even potential questioning from the Justice Department."

<Faith Daniels> "David, are you saying that the Justice Department has offered no arrest warrants, or are even interested in questioning Mr. Andrews?"

<David Arnold> "Well Faith from what I have been told moments ago, the heads of the Justice Department will convene among themselves to determine if the current information that is under scrutiny is valid enough, to overturn any possible conviction on part of negligence or possibly misconduct by Rod Andrews on behalf of PTEKK International. Now you may know from what has happened over the past week, Marcus Spivy has been arraigned on charges of 2 counts grand larceny, 3 counts of fraud, 3 counts of extortion and 2 counts of the attempted murder of Rod Andrews himself, and now re-hired former head of PTEKK Legal Herbert Walker. In addition former head of PTEKK Security Ren Jameston plead guilty in lesser court to charges of 1 count of fraud, 1 count of attempting to bribe a public official, and 1 count of the attempted murder of Herbert Walker as well. Both maintain innocence regardless of the monumental amount of evidence being levied against them."

<Faith Daniels> "David could you go into detail regarding the evidence that has been released by the Justice Department at this time?"

<David Arnold> "Faith there wasn't that much released from the records obtained by the Justice Department at the behest of the warrants they had obtained in correlation if you remember by Marcus Spivy's early allegations against Rod Andrews himself, regarding his involvement in the shipping and manufacture of weapons in South Africa, which have aided rebel forces in staging massive strikes against government forces in Botswana. Now what is known however is that the sealed documents that the Justice Department obtained named Marcus Spivy as the main proponent of these activities, with sworn witness affidavits and camera surveillance footage that do show Mr. Marcus Spivy signing documents that would later be revealed to contain instructions and guidelines for the proliferation and construction of weapons in PTEKK manufacturing concerns. Many of these concerns are located in many regions of the globe, including the United States. In addition, it makes note of blackmail, on part of Marcus Spivy to prevent or hinder investigation on part of the SEC to investigate fraudulent dealings in an attempt to cover the finances gained from the illicit arms sales. Now Marcus Spivy as I mentioned earlier, still pleading his innocence adding in a statement that "This country was based upon the notion of free ideals and notions. In the eyes of the press, I am guilty of being who I am, but I have done nothing wrong."

<Faith Daniels> "Amazing, amidst all these allegations he's still pleading innocence. What are you seeing now outside of PTEKK Headquarters, David?"

<David Arnold> "It's pretty incredible Faith you'd think that the public opinion regarding Rod Andrews under possible indictment by the Justice Department and quite possibly by the SEC, would be low. But as we've walked this block in front of PTEKK headquarters, you'll see people with posters and placards leaving flowers, almost like the crowd you'd see at the Today building. But they're all here waiting to see if Rod Andrews will emerge and wow the public like before. In addition he's become pretty popular here in this neighborhood after showering residents with gifts in the past and beautifying the exteriors of their homes, free of charge of course."

<Faith Daniels> "What about the general mood of people around the world or here in America at what they've seen this past week, this past year, unfold?"

<David Arnold> "Faith, Gallup did release its poll of 'Do you think Rod Andrews is guilty of some crime?' with pollsters reporting 66% Yes 33% No with 1% unsure. There also was a half of a percent margin of error, but it seems clear that the public is favoring indictment of Rod Andrews in some way, however, Gallup also asked the question 'Would you want Rod Andrews to remain head of PTEKK International?' with an overwhelming 95% Yes, 4% No, and a 1% unsure. However the speculation of Rod Andrew's return this morning rallied tech and industrial gains on the NYSE to an over 800 point increase. Now those numbers do illustrate that while the public wants some action taken against PTEKK or Rod Andrews, they still like what they see.

<Faith Daniels> "On a related note David, what are public figures around the world where PTEKK has plants saying about all this?"

<David Arnold> Well many of the countries, states and municipalities across the globe affiliated with PTEKK have said that they will wait for the Justice Department to render its decision regarding the matter, however some have gone further. The mayor of Detroit said that his 'patience had drawn to an end' at waiting for PTEKK's response to allow investigators and civil engineers to inspect manufacturing plants to determine if indeed weapons were being produced there, and if they were in fact bound for places around the globe. South African leaders today demanded response from Rod Andrews, or PTEKK itself to justify the actions in its country. One of its main parliamentary figures was quoted anonymously as saying "...we don't care how much money he has made our country. If he is building weapons we will drive tanks through and destroy them. It's that simple." So what we're seeing here is a clear divide in how the public and officials perceive and wish to handle this situation Faith."

<Faith Daniels> "Thanks David will check back with you later."

<David Arnold> "You're welcome."

<Faith Daniels> "We'll have the world's news after this commercial break, stay with us."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'My hover limo crept up to the curb amidst clapping camera shudders and starry-eyed fans with posters and placards. They looked almost ravenous but the police line that had been in position since this past week was holding them at bay. My driver seemed alarmed, but he was always that way. It's why I hired him.'

"Do you want me to walk you inside Ms. Terenstry?"

"No thank you Leonard you may wait here."

'I stepped out into the daylight, and the fanfare seemed to dwindle. I was still camera-worthy enough to the reporters but I can't say I wasn't surprised. I guess they were expecting that Rod had in some way vanished like a thief into the night only to re-emerge in the limelight, in a new hover Saab limo.'

'As I looked around I noticed that the neighborhood itself looked beautiful. There were full trees and the buildings weren't dilapidated. There wasn't even litter that I could see. It was a refreshing sight, being in New York for 20 years you take things like that for granted. The landing to the 455 W 43rd street itself looked brand new, and as I walked into the lobby it smelled freshly painted, white and clean. The irony wasn't lost on me while I entered, knowing I was the CEO of a company founded in this building, and I hadn't even been there before. I climbed up the stairs to the outside doors of PTEKK International and PTEKK Legal, one directly across from the other on the third floor. I knocked firmly on the door to our headquarters, and I heard some shuffling followed by a familiar voice.'

"Who is it?"

"Your corporate president pro tempore."

'I'm fairly certain I heard him blink. There was some clattering of the deadbolt and of the chain on the door, and it opened, revealing a rather candid version of our visionary and former CEO. He smelled, and so did his apartment. He was in underwear and a white suit shirt, presumably the one he had come back from his space 'escapade' in.'

"Good Afternoon Mr. Andrews how-...Haven't you changed?" I asked. I almost felt it necessary to cover my nose. The stench from within was revolting.'

'He looked down at his shirt "Oh...well obviously not the shirt but I was in the midst of changing pants and I-"

"God..." I said, walking past him into the small apartment. I felt like I had walked into my youth, or some day-glo 70's flashback to the disco era as he closed the door behind me. The entire apartment's furnishings glowed independently with the blinds closed. They were that orange. It was unbelievable how horrendously decorated his apartment was in contrast to the beautification going on outside. And it smelled awful, like year old dishes with previously undiscovered colonies of fungi. I was at a loss.'

"I just don't understand you." I began.

"What?"

"You. The way you are, why you act the way you do, why you make this neighborhood beautiful, why you run a business when you're completely inept, why your furniture is older than me, why it smells older than that?..." I was trying to think of more things to make note of. This is the head of one of the largest and most advanced companies on the planet, and yet he doesn't even redecorate. Or bathe. Or spend his money. Or act like he has it.'

"Well, do you mean just because I don't have...brand new furnishings and such?"

"Yes!" I said. "You're a billionaire! If not in assets at least in liquidity. Look at this place! You could afford to have your house and headquarters anywhere, but you have them here. You have the money and power to smash this entire neighborhood and make it whatever you want, but you don't. You could take this company and redesign the entire financial district if you were so inclined but you're not. Why Mr. Andrews? I just don't understand why."

"Well I-"

"Is it the nobility of it? Some kind of chivalrous aspect of it that keeps you here? One among your people? Something like a Robin Hood, fighting the injustice and social misunderstandings by staying here?

"I don't kn-"

"I mean...you have become what many Americans see as a staple. You're like a Mustang or a cheeseburger. Almost like you are your own commodity, independent of PTEKK with your ideas, your innovation, your charm, your willingness, all these things. People want you for your ideas and who you are. You can't deny that Rod."

"Well no, but-"

"Honestly Rod. You have achieved what some men can only dream of and you treat it like it's a joke. It's personified within living and working in this flea infested... rat nest! This place, the home of a billion dollar corporation. It's uncanny, and will be impossible to explain to our investors and clients! It's outdated, and a total mess. I mean, my god Rod it reeks in here! When was the last time you did the dishes, the stone age?"

'That's when I heard, what sounded like a snicker come from the bathroom. I looked over at it and the door was closed but the light was off.'

"Do you have company?" I asked.'

'He shook his head, pouting his lips. "Nope."

'I've have children, and I know when one of them is lying to me about something. I walked to the closed door."

"No wait! Please!" Rod said.

'I ripped open the door. I didn't see anyone in the bathroom, or behind the shower curtain in the tub. But much like the rest of the apartment it smelled foul.'

'I...I didn't want you to go in there, it already smells out here and you can't stand it." he stammered.

'He was right, it was downright filthy. But I could have sworn I heard a snicker. At any rate I only had one real reason for being there anyway. I stepped away from the disgusting bathroom and back into the less appealing 'living' room, whatever else was living there besides us.'

"Why don't you sit down Rod?" I said, motioning him to the sofa. He sat, waiting, almost steaming with grime.'

"Well then I'll get to the point Rod, we've made some changes in your absence. Firstly, your position at PTEKK itself."

"Well I was just about to ask ab-"

"You have been removed from the office of President and CEO."

'I paused, expecting an outburst. But he didn't seem offended or angry at being removed from a position of power. He was more confused than anything else. "...Didn't I do a good job?"

'I thought he was joking. "You're joking right?"

"Well, no. I mean wasn't I a good president of the company?"

'He really wasn't joking. I sat on one of the grotesque day glo seats and did my best to explain it to him.'

"Sir, Mr. Andrews. There is more to business than simply ideas. A business itself, is not one man, even if it resembles as such. Business, is a group. It is a tribe, it is a colony of thought and will based upon progression and influence. If this were indeed, a tribe, you would have been the grand shaman."

'I knew he looked even more confused, but I continued.'

"You see, in ancient cultures and times, the grand shaman would be in the position to see the future. To know the changes in seasons and to see the will of the gods or the heavens themselves or whatever. Tribes often did well when they listened to the shaman, and prospered as the result. Whether it was because the shaman knew, or could make it appear that he knew was undeterminable. But the people were willing, yes dying in some cases for lack of a better structure, to see, to glimpse upon what the shaman saw. To believe it and behold it, as something they knew to be a feeling in this world beyond themselves. You could argue Rod, that people of that time were less intelligent, or less willing to understand themselves. But, that has not changed."

'I could see that he was starting to formulate an opinion. I didn't stop.'

"People do not think for themselves. I know you want to think otherwise, I did too. I've been in business for over 20 years of my life Rod, and it's been the same since I started. People still fight and kill and rape and steal. There are laws, morays, mores, the ten commandments themselves, to guide people to a structure that reminds them of who they are. They still don't care Rod. Those rules to some people are such. They're simply hurdles preventing them from leading what they see as a better life. You could say that it's their right to argue, and they should be encouraged as such, and sometimes this is true. But some, are different. They break those rules because they're there, thinking that being a human is merely regulated to such. When people do this, they accept that they're merely people, and nothing more. They give up on anything new. Any potential. And it tends to be people in power, who wield influence and have gained control by managing any uncertainty and calculating it into a system of exploiting it. People like Marcus Spivy. When those who don't think for some better, and embrace that ideal, from skewed understanding or out of desperation or frustration, it cheapens us all. Who we are. Where we came from and how far we've come."

'I leaned in now to Rod, who leaned back at my aggressiveness. "Rod, when the shaman, or the force that's guiding the visions of the people, doesn't give back to the people, it cheapens the role of the shaman himself."

"Now wait just a damn-"

"I know what you're going to say Rod. I already know your argument. How you've helped with technology, how you've helped Earth, the United States, this neighborhood. Meaningless. Meaningless if you don't play the role that fate has assigned you. That fate has offered both of us. You are the visionary Rod, you are the grand shaman, and yes, you do see a world beyond yourself. You can too lead us, PTEKK, the world even Rod. But not as the role of a business CEO. Running a business, is not the role of the grand shaman."

'He began to say something again, glaring at me. I continued, I had rehearsed this.'

"The grand shaman, is simply a man, whereas a business is more than a man. Or a woman. Not just in populace but in ideology. An entity Rod. You can guide an entity, or be guided by one, but you can never be one until you remove what you were. What you are. You are who you are Rod, and I'm afraid you cannot take that away. You weren't supposed to be a CEO. You weren't supposed to run a business. You were supposed to help people to understand, and guide all of us, the entity, to a new world that you've seen. A world that's better for all of us. But only you can do it Rod. You cannot be an entity to force our world to yours, but you can guide us there. Listen, Rod. You can't confuse who you are with the position you're in now. You can't Rod. You're not their people anymore. You've elevated beyond that. You're more important and require more importance than can be offered in these surroundings."

'He was speechless. I had intended to shock him a little but something I said had resonated deeply within him, striking a chord I couldn't hear. I had anticipated a violent reaction, or at least something. But this was necessary, this decision, made by the board and myself to remove him. At least of his official position. The shareholders, the American government and its people deserve stability, free from the incompetence and erratic behavior that Mr. Andrews has consistently delivered. I had intended to send him to space to abate his arrest, true. But it was the safest course of action, not just for himself, but also to prevent Marcus from succeeding in any way.'

'I'm still not quite sure how the sealed documents themselves had come to be with his, Spivy's, signature on them, or how he had appeared on recorded footage signing off on various and damning company documents. Only just before I had arrived at the press conference had I received an anonymous communiqué over my Panel, illustrating the evidence against Spivy. Evidence that shouldn't have existed. I was already anticipating Spivy's actions to take over PTEKK, by recording him during the emergency board meeting. I was hoping he would be his volatile self and I wasn't disappointed. We had met, other board members and I, just before that, all of them wary of the direction Marcus would take us. We had all agreed, that in the event of a Justice Department and SEC censure, Marcus would take the fall. None of us expected Marcus to actually be guilty though. Well, at least look guilty.'

'I kept going, I had a schedule to keep. "If you'll notice, the board and I decided to rehire Mr. Walker. I'm sure you were pleased about that. I had met with him after the press conference only to discover that one of the few last actions of Marcus Spivy was to instruct his left hand to attempt to kill Herbert."

"What, who?"

"Ren Jameston, Marcus had mentioned him in passing at the various board functions you hadn't attended, clearly. I believe he had mentioned his hiring to you at the emergency board meeting as well. He was the former head of PTEKK Security under Marcus Spivy."

"Is he ok?"

"Herbert? As well as he can be I guess. I hope you understand that regardless of his legal prowess, connections and remaining abilities, he cannot remain head of his former department. He's a raving lunatic Rod. Mentally imbalanced. His previous doctor informed me he has been experiencing lucid hallucinations of a little girl and her one-eyed pet dog. The girl in question was killed in a motoring accident years ago before you even started PTEKK. Regardless, it's trying enough for Mr. Walker, Herbert, to handle the actions and choices of his life. He has done his best for this company, but he cannot run the legal department any further."

"Well, then who-"

"I have yet to decide who should head PTEKK Legal. While I do appreciate all of the work that Mr. Walker has done, I cannot in good conscience or corporate sense allow him to remain chief or head of any PTEKK department. Attempting to find legal lean to allow him to even remain in the legal department was difficult enough, but his recent disbarment has stuck unfortunately. Even if Marcus's actions got him locked into Bellvue and mine got him exonerated, the ABA, or the Bar association as they're commonly known, frown upon attorneys being mentally imbalanced. I'm sorry Rod there wasn't anything more I could do. Herbert will never be able to practice law again in the United States."

'He put his head in his hands. "What have I done?"

"What have you done Mr. Andrews?" I knew that he knew something. He was an idiot. Well strike that it's an inappropriate term. Even Rod, Mr. Andrews, is smarter and more creative than even the finest of idiots I have met in my life. Just not on the level of what I've seen before, a level that reeked of dirty dishes and stale dust.'

'He looked back at me, confused. His eyes told a story I couldn't read. Like it required a code or a language not my own. I don't really believe the shaman tales or any of that jargon I had spoken to him earlier. I normally try to find some historical bridge or anchor to compare a metaphor when I'm speaking about business. Both are important metaphors in business I feel.'

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? What are you hiding?"

'I saw his face pale. "I-...I don't know what you're talking about." he stammered.'

"Please Mr. Andrews, Rod. I'm the head of your corporation, your brainchild, host of innovations and inventions that the world never could have imagined for at least a hundred years, if we even made it that far! Remember that idea that you turned in to Herbert that was on a napkin? That spurred the creation of a neural connection system, the one we're marketing this fall? It's projected to make billions and change the world three more times over and it was just simply a sketch to you. A figment of your imagination. You're thinking in directions that none of our brightest has even considered or been exposed to. The only reason I even came here, instead of mitigating business like we normally do with teleconferencing, was to find out..."

'His face was still white, glowing more in putrid day glo sofa. He looked terrified. "Find out what?" he asked.'

"The truth! Rod! Jesus Christ!" I stood up, pacing now. The apartment's odor was getting to me. "I don't know if you have any notion of the gravity of what you've accomplished, but it's significant, by any measure. Tidal even. Men have dreamed, Rod, dreamed to do what you've done. Long before you or I were even born! To do what you have! Businessmen, or women, despots, poets, all conquerors or aspiring to be. To challenge the ideals and ideas we know and instill their own. Ideas like yours! They don't just come out of thin air Rod! It doesn't work that way, at least not anymore! You can't leave the board, me, in the dark forever about however it is you're getting these ideas, wherever they're coming from..."

'He looked offended, but still pale. "What's that supposed to mean?"

'I was still pacing, now looking at the disgusting dishes. "People the world over don't know what to think of you. Politicians, celebrities, Spivy, they all tried appealing to you and you turned them away. You ignore them, or at least try to. People think you're from another planet. Most of the neighbors on your block think you're some alien, or from the future trying to save humanity from itself. They're delusional over you Rod, but they're hopeful. Because of you. You wield more power now than you know."

'The odor was overwhelming now, I couldn't bear it any longer, turning away from him. I didn't care how clueless or dumbfounded he was or looked. Still, I had to know.'

"Rod...did you have some play in what happened?"

"Huh?"

"With Marcus... they said they found video footage of him signing those documents, but I...you remember...before you left, I had told you that I had sold those weapons. I was only going to make it appear that Spivy had forced myself and the board into doing it. But those documents, it couldn't have been Spivy signing them..." I turned back to him, "How did you do it?"

"Do what?

'He was absolutely brainless. How could he not know? "I don't know...did you wear a mask? Was it some type of suit or something?"

"What about you talking about Matilda?"

"How did you make yourself look like Marcus Spivy?"

'I could hear a pin drop. I didn't know what to think, but I don't think he even had put the pieces together himself. Something, I'm not sure what, was helping this, fine idiot, reach a means to an end. I don't know whether it's aliens or what, though what he spoke of in his encounter was less than reassuring. Still, standing there in his soggy suit dress shirt and smelly apartment, I couldn't take him seriously any longer.'

"Matilda I..."

"Yes?"

"I just...I just don't know what you're talking about."

'I could see truth in his eyes. Whatever or wherever these ideas came from, it wasn't within this man. Needless to say I didn't know what to do. I vowed to find out what exactly was going on, but I had more pressing matters at the time.'

'I straightened myself out, having rehearsed this part thoroughly. "I have already spoken with the board Rod, we've all come to the same conclusion. Due to certain legal obligations that we feel you have to attend to, we have determined that you will be removed from your position at PTEKK International, effective immediately. We are still unsure as to the Justice Department's verdict regarding your arrest or at least your questioning. Because of your strong political ties and the fact that this is a hot-button diplomatic and economic issue, more is at stake than a simple trial. Our assembled team that has comprised the Legal Department has assured me that you will not serve a day in jail, and I have faith in their capacity personally. And yes, though he is no longer bar certified, Herbert Walker is still a member of the PTEKK Legal staff, just not one of authority or representation. In addition utilizing company funds I have authorized the purchase of a new building to house the more official capacities of PTEKK International. Don't worry, the headquarters will remain here, in your apartment. PTEKK Legal will be housed in this new location outside of this apartment as well."

'I stepped closer to him, still rigidly atop the tainted sofa. "But, we want you, to remain as the spokesman and head of development at PTEKK however, simply because it's what you do best: Design and build for a new future. Our new future. It's why you're here. You're our tribe's grand shaman. It's why you even came back, regardless of what you said you saw out there. Just save that for the inquiry."

'I could tell he was still flabbergasted, and couldn't think of anything to say or ask. The apartment's vapor had become too much for me as I moved to the door.'

"Goodbye Mr. Andrews...Rod. The board and I will be in touch."

'I strode out, turning in the doorway, my back to PTEKK Legal's front gate, facing the bewildered and still pants less mogul.'

"Hail the conquering hero!" raising my fist and slamming the door.'

(Make note Diary2.0 to contact PTEKK Legal in the morning to determine the severity of Mr. Andrews's possible indictment.)

Excerpt

Diary2.0 of Matilda Terenstry

1/14/91

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

15.

"She's right you know." a familiar voice said.'

'I turned to the bathroom. Doctor Rod was standing in the doorway. I wasn't sure how long he had been listening, or had even been there. "About?"

"Many things." he said, walking past me to his day glo throne by the window. He was watching her leave the apartment now, getting into her Saab limo, jetting off in between the flight traffic above the rooftops. "Specifically, regarding your involvement in the removal of Marcus Spivy."

"Wait, how-"

"I've been here the whole time, phased, invisible with this." he said, holding up his bracelet. "It does many different things, translations, mapping functions, many things, including the ability to resemble anyone of the wearer's choosing. Anyone who I think would stand in the way of our overall objectives."

'I had begun to see the scientist's hidden role more clearly now. "So...all that evidence? The signed documents, the camera footage, all...faked?"

'The Doctor bowed, smiling. "Wonderful performance don't you think?"

"Wait...what about murdering Herb?"

"Murder who?"

"Herbert Walker?"

'He looked puzzled, then brightened. "Oh the Wolf-man! Well unfortunately yes."

'I was livid, at first. I remember glaring at him before he raised his hands, and at least explained himself. "Now hold on there. I had no intention of letting him die. I had instructed Ren Jameston to commit the crime under the illusionary guise of Marcus Spivy, so I could implicate both of them. If Ren Jameston had remained in the company, it would have potentially strengthened any case for Spivy's innocence. Wolf-...Mr. Walker, was never in any danger of being harmed I assure you."

'I was less perturbed, but not by much. "What about the emergency meeting? Was that you too?"

'He laughed. "Ironically, no. The minute that I saw the new potential employment of Ren Jameston, I knew that Spivy would be up to something. I hired Marcus Spivy after all, knowing full well of his character. Ms. Terenstry and the board too, through our legal department of course. I knew you wouldn't notice really, since you don't do, well, anything at PTEKK. I mean let's face it, you're the 'lightning-rod.' All you're supposed to do is look good and you're still learning how to do that much. Don't forget Rod, you may have been the mascot, but I've done all the business behind closed doors with our Legal Department. Under the illusionary guise of you of course, so you don't have to do it yourself."

'I remember getting irate, and getting up and pacing to the sink in the kitchen, as far as I could get from him. "You were pretending...to be me?"

"Yes. After many discussions with Mr. Wol-...I mean 'Walker', my apologies I'm still getting used to such for your own comfort, we had established an arrangement of sorts to allow the majority of our transactions and deals to remain, a secret. Well, not necessarily a secret, but certainly out of the limelight. Mr. Walker was also unaware that I was masquerading as you, though in his state I'm sure he wouldn't have noticed, or been able to explain it if he could. I did this of course, to offer a buffer, in such a way that we remove forms of responsibility, by myself or you, that could 'fluctuate' as Mr. Spivy would have referred to it."

'I gripped the sides of the sink. I didn't know what I could even do, if anything. "So what's next then? For me? Are you going to throw me to the wolves like Spivy and Jameston?"

"Nothing of the sort!" he belted. I turned to see him looking at me from where he was sitting. He had been staring out the window, with the curtain covering enough to hide his features from my sight. But now, for the first time, he looked genuinely confused. "Our roles are intrinsic to one another to make all of this possible. My intention, your dreams, your world beginning anew. Without you, I would be seemingly lost in this universe, or at least would have more of a workload. Have you forgotten? Always refer to the packet for questions! Didn't you read the packet?" he said jokingly now.'

"Um..."

'He was speechless. "Rod...You really didn't read any of it?'

'I told him about how I had vomited his breakfast and the computer sucked out the pages. I still had recovered most of the packet aside from the 4 remaining pages on the back. He looked nervous, another first for me to witness.'

"How much of it do you remember?"

'I mentioned most of the first pages, and how it included what may have been going on while I was away. But I don't remember it including anything about the Doctor pretending to be Spivy, or anyone else for that matter.'

"So it's safe to assume then, that you know nothing of what we are to do?"

'I had to be honest Diary3.0. He could probably tell if I lied anyway, but it didn't feel right. He was me after all. "No." I said.'

"Oh wow Rod. Wow..." he murmured. This was probably the first time I had seen a disparaged look on the Doctor's face. He put his head in his hands, slashed in light from the curtain's crack. His fingers were strumming his skull in a concerto of thought, until he rose to me, simply saying "I must make some arrangements. I shall return this evening."

'He walked past me without saying anything, and clicked 'Phasic' on his silver band through the doorway, and ghostly descended down the steps to street below. I could tell he was disappointed, mainly at my mishaps now that I look back on it. He must have thought 'How could this version of me be so careless and stupid?' All I had to do was read a pamphlet, not anything remotely complicated, and I couldn't do that right either. I didn't realize at the time that the Doctor couldn't simply re-write the list. The majority of the instructions had come from the fringes of his memory, which had frayed and were re-stitching themselves in another pattern.'

'I remember spreading out on the day glo sofa, still starting deep into the tube, feeling incapable. I began to grow upset. This wasn't the type of thing that happens often Diary3.0. I may get emotional and at times frustrated, even impatient, but regardless of this I was rarely unhappy. The Doctor had said much later 'Being unhappy just means you're doing something incorrectly.' It makes sense to me now, but I didn't hear it then, when I should have. I thought I had done a 'stand-up job', for a 'lightning-rod'. It seemed like the type of position that required simply staying in one. But even as the visible 'safeguard', representing an entity as Matilda called, it, should I feel miserable, or have to feel anything really? It detracts from what the role itself is. But how can I be an emotionless husk, and think for the benefit of people, or even myself? Even questioning this now makes me feel inadequate. What I am, was, I guess. I could see then and now why the board had their reasons.'

'The fuzziness and rolling bars across the screen were just short of unbearable. The apartment was a ragged mess, with grimy inherited furniture and a broken television. Being a slob was the tip of the iceberg. Matilda had me marked. The Doctor probably now too. I was a garbage CEO, President, Rodd-iite, whatever. To top it off I slept in my own garbage was well. This is the type of behavior you'd find pigs exhibiting, and I was hardly greedy enough to be an ideal example. I buried my face into the cushion, I didn't care how disgusting it was. I just wanted to go to sleep and forget how awful at everything I was. There was a Diary2.0 commercial humming in the background, its screen light seeping in just under my eyelids. I closed them, and sank away into the dark.'

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'I awakened in the familiar dream-like state. I knew it was because of the lack of sounds, and most noticeably the absence of stench. The television's hum was gone, and so was its jagged picture and glow. The light from under the bathroom door shone as it normally did, inviting me in, as I lay there gazing at it. I didn't move from prone. I recall thinking that there really wasn't a point to go in there, to be what the Doctor wanted me to be. I couldn't run the company, I couldn't run the Rodd-iites, I couldn't even hold my breakfast or evacuate it without incident. I was incompetent. 'A fine idiot' as Matilda would say to me later, probably even in a dream.'

'The light itself was still panning out from underneath, now through the door jams. It seemed to pulsate, even hum louder than my elder television had when I was awake. It would appear, at least during that dream, that the more reluctant I was to walk through the doorway, the brighter it grew. The more I covered my face with the filthy pillow, the less it did to stop the light from getting in. All of the apartment was now blanketed in white light, all emanating from the bathroom door. I couldn't avoid it any longer. You can't avoid you are. I sighed, stood up, and walked to the doorway. I twisted the knob on the creaky door and walked into fate headlong.'

'For starters, the last time I had entered the room, it was to cheers, jubilation, and strange welcoming dances. But this time, I found myself already sitting down, in one of the Doctor's classroom desks in the audience. The other Rodd-iites were sitting around too, though when I gazed about there seemed to be fewer of them, or at least less than in the two other dreams. I had 'arrived', unnoticed by the other Rodd-iites. They were listening intensely to the speaker, a fellow Rodd-iite who I thought I had seen before and would come to know later as Rod-662.'

'I know I had arrived late, or at least I got the feeling I had in the dream itself. The long-haired shaggy Rod, clad in what looked like a cougar's pelt, and denim, with what I later learned was an elaborate umBhumbluzo, or shield, of metal. He appeared to be delivering an impassioned speech to the other Rodd-iites before I arrived. His English was not the best, and his accent was thick in an almost African tone. I did my best to catch up by listening in, and doing so, what I knew of the universe changed forever.'

"...My people, are strong. They are warriors. I am a warrior like them. But this is clear from my introduction. My inhlabathi, or my 'Terra, Sol, Earth', what you would call it, was strong long before I had been born. The people of my world, were forged in conflict which rescinded. We have been divided among many tribes and people, and while we fight, we engage each other with honor. With mutually shared respect between warriors of all tribes. As of late, there have been no angry battles between even rival tribes. No unnecessary bloodshed. When my tribe has faced others on the field of battle, we have always shown gratitude towards them and their feats, if they were noble warriors and true. It is our way, the way of my inhlabathi, to know respect and honor through combat. To you, all of you who resemble me both in form and spirit, I have come before you as a new member, as I was found, what seems now moments ago by who you'd know as the Doctor. The prism that fragmented us into who we are. But my new found brothers, those who I speak to across the plane of the gods, my people are in danger. A danger which is of more importance to me, than anything else."

"These creatures, whoever they are, ravaged my world. They came from the skies, and attacked with weapons that my people have never seen before. With devices that my people could never imagine. These beings were not gods, and if they were, they were devils. Demons. You remember how I had mentioned at the beginning how my world had been attacked, well these were the culprits. Disfigured monsters, mutated men, the likes of which my elders were unaware. For over four days now they have besieged my world, until moments ago. This, is why I have come, to ask for aid somehow, in meeting you, against this...this evil. This thing we know that calls itself SOLSA."

'There were some murmurs among the Rodd-iites. "Our worlds may not be similar of spirit, or culture of your birth societies on your own respective inhlabathis. On my earth, our enemies were always people, like us. Once our world knew of each other and their tribes, our conflicts merely became ceremonial, and a method to garner favor among the bloodshed within our tribes. We all seek it one way or another. We in my inhlabathi garner to it and move on. Nor did I arrive here simply from his introduction. It began, in combat. In battle."

"My land, the land of my tribe, is based in a large city known as 'New Khayelitsha.' It is the largest of our cities and the largest of the others among the Northern Tribes. The day they come, these monsters, they descended upon us with advanced flying machines, with many mechanical devices that attacked us from the ground. These lifeless creatures seemed to be controlled by the monsters. They did their bidding and quacked like our geese. Demons and minions dancing in the skies together in a whirlwind and, arriving in blue clouded flashes, let loose upon my city. They bombarded the country sides with flames and cinders, and our most elaborate of weapons were incapable of fending them off. They had besieged the main square of New Khayelitsha outside our tribal center, Halls of the amaBandla, our high elders and izAngoma, the high priests. But the fighting did not end there. On the Street of the Heavens, the path which the Greater Shakka himself first strode into the new land, was this battle I speak of."

"With the umuVa shattered, my entire iViyo was summoned for a defensive stance, to protect our elders and drive these monsters off the Street of the Heavens. Their barrage had ceased, with their ground devices, human-like, charging forward. They stopped in unison, motionless before us between the towering spires lining the boulevard. The rains above began against a red sky, while in the distance beyond past them were the flying whirlwinds; thousands of their craft teeming in the sky. Our isiKhulu, began our war chant, as is custom. We do this to signify out strength, and our will to do battle. The chants themselves tend to be loud and long, and ours was no different. But we were known for our ferocity in combat, our tribe, and my iButho was the last of our iKhanda in the city. The remainder of city's warriors had been slain in the initial assault, and reinforcements were still hours away from our tribes, and other allied ones to the north and west. It was our directive, our only mission, to repel the invaders long enough to gather reinforcements and aerial support. We have flying devices, true, but my people are of spirit, and of ideal. Our elders long ago decreed these devices never be used against any tribe. It would cheapen the honor and spirit shared between our tribes. These creatures, and their devices however, had no regard whatsoever."

"They came at us with weapons blazing, they used firearms and not honorable ways. We too have firearms but they are nowhere near as advanced. The damage from their weapons created collateral damage in ways far beyond that of our high priest's understanding. The wounded of the battle sustained strange injuries, in a way deemed 'unnatural' by our High iNyanga, our medicine council."

"The tribes of my world know no conflicts that cannot be bartered, or can't be quenched or quelled, thus our weapons were no match for these...things. We fought them back, battering them apart, only to have them come together in a large caterpillar looming and crawling and firing all at once, rolling over my iButho and slaying many of them. It charged at me, rolling about on its combined limbs, when it stopped at the sight of me, and retreated back to where it had come. I chased it now, enraged at the deaths of my friends and isiKhulu, and chased it back. The rest of my iViyo was in pursuit. The caterpillar of misshapen devices made it just outside the Tribal District's border, and we found they had led us to a descending whirlwind of these monsters, in what seemed like a feint maneuver. We had been lured, and I thought we would be finished. But something strange happened. The caterpillar quacked in some strange sequences to a few of the riders within the whirlwind. Just as quickly as the cyclone of flying devices and lifeless devices appeared, they were gone. We were victorious, frightened the enemy into fleeing. However, there was something that we did not know."

'The Rodd-iites were transfixed. "With the remaining twenty or so of my iViyo, out of the one hundred and seventy with which we began, we made our way back to the tribal center to regroup and await reinforcements and orders. The battle had been watched on high, as is custom by our tribe's elders from the top of the Halls of amaBandla. I was personally summoned by the elders themselves."

"While I was amazed at actually being within the Halls of amaBandla, whose entrance is restricted to even some of the noblest warriors, I was not entirely sure why I had been summoned. When we arrived at the top floor, I was called up a high flight of stairs to sit before the umKhumbi, The Circle of Elders. All the tribal advisors sat here, atop the highest spire of the Halls. One of the high priests, an old soothsayer, says that from his vision from above, and with the aid of taping devices, denoted an immediate change by the strange devices which merged into a caterpillar, the instant it saw me charge."

"The priests, and the elders too agreed, that I had changed its will to fight, and the will of the monsters as well. Even our tribal astronomers and astral cartographers, who saw the impending arrival of their devices, the whirlwinds, and my new brothers, a ship in orbit. All of which disappeared when I alone charged. This was the feeling of even the highest warriors in the outer circle, military advisors overwhelmed by the sheer number and advancement of their armies and weapons."

"It was at this time that I was told to sit among the circle, where from the right side was passed a small plate, smeared in what looked like a green paste. The priest who had sat to my right, the soothsayer, adorned it over my temples and over the bridge of my nose. Chants that I hadn't heard spoken before, by elders or any others, filled the chamber and echoed across the Halls themselves. It was during these chants, and from the weight of battle weariness, I saw, for the first time, your umThakathi, the one you call the Doctor, or the Scientist. He was adorned in a long strange white coat, with a thin mustache, and said to me:"

'Hello! I am you, and you are me! Before you get estranged or even confused, I'd just like to say how wonderful it is to see you!'

'This drew some chuckles and snorts from the sparsely seated Rods. We each seemed to have our own strange introduction to the Doctor, but his greeting always stayed the same. He went on'

"This man, this vision, of your umThakathi, came to me in this state. The Doctor as you call him. But he was not in physical form. He was surrounded by a blue pulsing shell, and had the physical state of a vision, and nothing more. He seemed to have died, as is the case with most visions of this nature I was told. The elders, seeing my conversation with your Doctor, while they could not, were alarmed. Not at the Doctor, for they felt his presence was one of clarity and insight. One which we needed. But I drew for them the things your Doctor showed me, that could be used to stop this evil. He delivered to me a small paper satchel, which I opened and found was intangible, and without trueness in my world. He said 'It was the visual representation of what to accept in the coming future.' He pressed his thumb to the paste on the bridge of my nose. I awakened, here in this room as you might remember earlier, introduced me to this society, where I sat for what seemed like ages for this introduction and chance to speak. More than likely, this eternity here with you, is the blink of an eye in what I know as my world."

"I tell you this brothers, because it is rare in my culture for new warriors to see visions. The elders felt this was because we had reached the epoch of our society, as we have united our world through the tribes in peace. The Circle of Elders knew, all rings, knew that when a young warrior has visions, it means that conflict is coming. That war is brewing. And if we must join forces, then have no other option than to-"

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'A swift knock had come at the door. It had completely jolted me awake. I was back in my apartment, the smell overcoming. Hours seemed to have passed as the streetlights neon flickered on. I stood up, still in my underpants and suit shirt. I shuffled to the door and peeled it open, revealing an empty hallway. I closed the door, turning back to see the Doctor himself, deactivating 'Phasic' mode on his wristband.'

"Sorry forgot the key, we're- what's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost." he said.

'He looked concerned. I told him about the Rod-iite dream, and how it sounded as though one of our member's worlds was under attack. His eyebrows rose as I mentioned the devices, and the flying machines, and especially the ship. I was expecting an answer, but instead I received silence. He walked emotionlessly to his spot near the window, steaming with thought.'

"Well?" I asked.

"Well what?"

"What he saw, more importantly that ship. Or a ship. It could be one of the ones I saw in space."

'He looked right at me, then back through the curtains and sighed.'

"What? What is it that I'm incapable of understanding?"

'He shook his head, laughing now.'

"What?!" I was getting impatient and he could tell.'

"This, this is what happens Rod Andrews, when you don't read the packet." he got up, pacing about near the table.'

"Oh the goddamn packet again. Why do you keep bringing that up?"

"Because Rod, it had everything in it! Everything! Do you understand? It's something that's irreplaceable now. I'll admit I should have taken greater precautions when made it, ensuring that I included a cover-letter which read 'Dear Rod, In the event that you should become ill during transit to space, please do NOT let the packet fall into the turbine system!'" he bellowed, slamming his fists on the dinette. I had never seen him angry before, truly enraged. He wasn't physically violent aside from the table, but I knew then the gravity of my mistake: Always read the goddamn packet."

'I walked about now sheepishly between the kitchen and the dinette, pointing my head down. I was doing my best at the time to understand everything that was happening, and it still wasn't enough. The Doctor had sat back down now, his head in his right hand in the glow of the streetlamps.'

"Look...Rod...when I say that I can't redeliver the packet to you, I truly mean it. I can't! All of that information came to me in a dream, much like this information comes to you now. All the technology we have? PTEKK, your world now? That's all common from my world and universe and is the type of thing I had to memorize from what you'd call 'textbooks'. But all this? What you're referring to? It's beyond me Rod, it's out of my league. Its mathematics that are too illogical and impure for my society to have pursued. merely to desire knowing it. When you mentioned this, Rod-iite Brotherhood before, I thought it was a wonderful idea, and I was certainly intrigued. But it's beyond me Rod, I'm sorry."

'He leaned over, closing the curtain. "In the meantime, I have news. Bad news, well 'bad'." he said, quoting with his fingers. "Our attorneys at PTEKK Legal were not able to subvert your personal attendance at a Grand Jury inquiry, regarding the events with which I don't feel I need to elaborate. It would seem our new legal staff lacks the primal fire of its sole predecessor, which is a shame. On a related note, is the audible device in your ear still functioning?"

"Yes, I don't take it out."

'The Doctor made a disgusted face at this, saying, "Well at least clean it once in a while. Moving on, the Justice Department has abated for the most part, but there will be an inquiry soon. Apparently Marcus Spivy and Ren Jameston still have friends within the government who believe their innocence. Regardless, a trip to space and an elaborate stage trial the likes of which I had to do before, will not hinder them this time Rod. You're going to have to clean yourself up, straighten out, and get yourself ready for court tomorrow morning."

'I understood all that, having been prepared for such before I had even left earth in the Kommissar5000. "I assume then you'll speak via my earpiece much like before on the Today Show?"

"Correct. At least you don't need a packet for that." he chuckled, "To add however, the questioning might be intense, and by intense, I mean that they'll be monitoring every aspect of your chemical composition. This of course with the aid of PTEKK Medical technology. Fortunately for both of us, I made the technology, so I'll be able to subvert any attempt to override the signal. In the event this happens however, I'd like to introduce you to a friend of mine."

'The doctor rose quickly, spinning in a circle in that strange dance I had seen before, and in a blue blip revealed to my left what I would come to know as a 'Komm-bot.' I was taken aback by it, realizing then of course that this is what Spivy had been talking about. What Matilda had shipped across the world and had defending PTEKK Intergalactic after I had departed. I'd know later of course, that this is what 662 was referring to which had attacked his world as well. "Meet, the 'Komm-bot', the brand new mechanized infantry of earth! He has a 'Phasic' mode much like my bracelet, in that he can turn invisible and can be passed through by tangible objects. I guess I should say "Rod it followed me home, can I keep it?" he roared. I of course, was shocked. The Doctor exuberated at first, realized again my level of competency. "Don't worry I'll explain every detail."

'It looked like a normal man-like robot, but with six arms; almost like an ant. 2 hulking guns mounted on a metal collarbone, with two smaller arms underneath. One of the arms was connected to the gun arms themselves, which the doctor elaborated as being 'both a repair and reloading function for its main weapons.' There was a gigantic case on the back which I eyeballed. "That is for power diagnostics as well as storage. You'll find that there's another storage compartment that opens from the top of the chest here in the front." I looked at its chest, noticing strange insect-like mandibles, which the doctor said 'were used for sensory equipment and repair functions on other Komm-Bots in some cases.' Its head was like a pan; domed and flat at the top, with blinkers on its neck. "Those nodes are specifically designed to illustrate their response systems. Observe:" He clapped his hands, and the Komm-Bot's arm shot forward. I leapt back, which made the Doctor laugh. "Don't worry it's on a neural connection link, so it will respond to my thoughts. PTEKK Medical had designed and patented this feature to aid the blind and impaired. They've have a huge success rate, as I knew they would."

"That napkin sketch that Matil-...I mean Ms. Terenstry was talking about?"

"The same. These Komm-bots have already been produced en masse in the event that something 'questionable' should occur."

"Questionable? What do you mean questionable?" I asked.

'He looked concerned, reaching into his pocket. Out of its depths, he produced a small sealed docket, the likes of which passes between the halls of our apartment and 3-14 on a routine basis. PTEKK HQ and its Legal department. He slashed it open, revealing a tri-folded letter, stapled, with an illustration on the back. He turned to its pictured page, handed it to me and asked, "Have you seen this before?"

'I couldn't lie to him. He knew I'd seen it. I knew I'd seen it. 662 had seen it in the dream I was ranting about moments earlier. It was a PTEKK Patent, but one I hadn't signed off on, even if my initials were on it. On the letter, a Xerox, not a PTEKK innovation unfortunately, was a sketch the Doctor had made of the spaceship. The same as both of the ships I had seen. Only he had made this sketch and patented its basic design, the same day he and Steve Patmont patented the hover scooter. Well before my space escape. And before the dream. "I'd say that is fairly questionable." he whispered gravely.'

'He wasn't acting for effect either, not like the dog and pony show for the Justice Department and the press he had woven before. This was something he hadn't expected, and something which suggested an event, or a problem beyond even the Doctor's vast understanding. This terrified him, and it showed.'

"What does this mean? I mean you're the expert here."

"I don't know Rod. At first I didn't know what to think of your elaborate dream, with your witnessing of the various versions of ourselves, 'fractured realities.'" he said, quoting with his fingers. "The majority of PTEKK's patents, are simply common knowledge to me. Memories from my universe. After your venture to space, and witnessing those two ships engage in what you referred to as 'combat' and my recent trip to recover this document I knew I had signed, for you, I am still dumbfounded. I also do not know what to think now, about your continued obsession with this dream society, where this same ship, or ships are now evident again. I still do not understand how the two interconnect." he frazzled.'

'He paced to his seat, back to the table, then to his seat again. "My involvement, my influx, my...injection into this universe caused this. It must have. Beyond the patent beyond the mere suggestion. You wouldn't have seen the patent, hell you don't bother to-" he stopped himself, clutching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you're already over-taxing yourself at being in your position. You must understand Rod, your lack of knowledge and understanding of your necessary actions, coupled with this chain of events makes me question if..."

"If?"

"If it's not just my influx into this universe...Maybe...Maybe you were supposed to lose- Oh that's crazy." He said, leaping up, racing around the apartment. "The probability of you vomiting, ejecting it, and losing all of the implicitly necessary notes that I can't remember is...is just too improbable. I just cannot fathom why I couldn't grasp or consider the possibility of it. As remote as it was! I mean, how could so many variables occur with known remedies, and go so perfectly...wrong? I mean Rod, god I'm starting to sound like you, not that it's a bad thing, but it's staggering. We're so similar that I had the variables themselves broken down so neatly. I was confident. I thought I would have tabulated within my own head, just what was necessary to bring about all this. I'm sorry about my tone earlier Rod I really am. I'm sure Matilda is too. All our roles in any universe have some unknowable stress, some hamstring towards a rational explanation of one thing or another."

'He looked lost and frantic. His erratic orbit had collided with the dinette, diagonal from me, with his hands resting again on its boomeranged surface. He sat himself, down, staring off into horizons unknown, or at least unfathomable to me even now. His brain seemed like it was panting, exhausted from processing a tri-atholon of data, but sprinting on. Even his mustache looked crooked from the strain.'

'I didn't want to interrupt, but I felt it necessary. "What do you think we should do?"

'Still in a deep trance, he suddenly blinked, and turned to me. "Tell me more about your dreams."

"All of them?"

"Yes." he said, digging into his other pocket and retrieving his Panel. "Tell me everything you know and remember about The Rodd-iite Brotherhood."

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16.

'As I had mentioned previously Diary3.0, I'm not one to lie to, myself. At least I came to learn as such. I gave the Doctor all the details, hours on end it seemed, as he outlined and formatted them on his PTEKK Panel. I told him all about arriving home to a dark apartment, aside from the magical door where the bathroom once was on each occasion. I went into depth regarding the versions of ourselves, the cowboy version, the one with the robotic appendage, which he clearly found intriguing. When I described the dance, he laughed as he penned it down. 'Fraternal Organizations, how fascinating!' he crooned. "Now, you did mention that, in the dream, or the 'vision' that you had, that I made an impassioned speech, to a room full of alternate versions of us, regarding our shared future as a collaborative and progressive idea, right?"

'I went on at the furthest length I could to describe his speech, his diatribe, this surge of inspiration I felt as result. His eyebrows raised and he paused as I described the 'classroom' at length, detailing the bent chalkboard and bizarre roof, and the individual packets. This was not humorous to him. "Describe if you can on this panel, or draw it, this classroom." he said, sliding the Panel over to me. With my index finger, I positioned the layout in the basic sense and gave it back to him. His eyes widened slightly, then slimmed again in thought.'

"So, what does it all mean?" I asked, sitting back down across the scientist. I had spent the better of close to ten minutes locked in metaphorical illustration, the best I could manage without appearing completely over my head. As if it was that difficult. I needed something, some form of validation from him. "Was it some random event? Something beyond my-"

"There's that word again" he said, clucking his tongue. "Remember, 'random' is merely something that lacks understanding. Something that needs to be known for the sake of knowing, if not remembering."

'I did feel better that the Doctor was interested in what he had written off before as just a dream. At least I had someone I could talk to about this. "This dream also happened when you injured yourself at work right? Independent of sleep?"

"Yes I wasn't sleeping on the job, I just went into kind of a trance. I remember being at work, and physically doing work." All of it beforehand was still so real, especially since I still had a scar from my arm. It had been so long in between everything that had happened that I didn't even remember at the time. He scribbled more onto his Panel.'

"Your dreams seem to be a significant factor when comparing the data from your Kommissar5000, the one you left in. I managed to get all of the pertaining documents from PTEKK Intergalactic's database, and this Komm-bot in my outing earlier. The ship and our 'devices' seem to be both of PTEKK origin. I believe, at least coupling what I think and feel, is that somehow our influx of technology in this universe, or perhaps another, creates a timeline to which-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, timeline? Wait a minute-"

"Please, let me finish...it's possible that the influx of my ideas, my technologies here, on your world, may have impacted or at least have some measurable degree of a broader impact, on other universes. You, myself in this universe is proof such things can occur. I cannot refute that, since I'm actually here, speaking to you. But if another universe even eventually gains access to this ship or the designs, their actions with such technology could affect the past, creating other worlds as a result! I mean, me merely remembering these devices has spurred your encounter with a future event! It's quite funny actually, talking about this now, here. Arguing any of this would be too illogical to refute for even my sternest of instructors, and there were many. Imagining how they'd refute this problem makes me smile at least." he snorted.'

'For once since the Doctor's arrival, I had really tried my best to think like he had. I thought that maybe, it was a correlation that extended beyond simply my own dream.'

"What if, and stop me if this sounds stupid, but, what if you were part of my dream but don't remember it?" I asked.'

"Part of one of your classroom dreams you mean? With these Rod-iites you speak of?"

"Well like you said, here you are with me, in this universe. I mean I hadn't even thought of anything like this before your arrival here."

'He strummed his fingers ricocheting, off the table's boomerangs, "I do remember sleeping at one point, but I certainly did not experience what you had. Like you, I did dream, but mine was of my home. My Earth. But I hadn't reached it yet. I was still here, in this apartment. Well, it resembled this apartment anyway, but in a blink" he snapped his fingers "I was in orbit around the earth. Naturally, I found this fascinating, especially since I had never been to space myself, though my society is capable. Peace. Union. Tranquility. I also found myself able to breathe without the aid of any of my world's devices or suits, and that every aspect of my own outline glowed blue. But just as I had felt those sensations" he snapped them again, "I blinked and was somewhere else."

"I found myself in the street, not in actuality, but still within the dream. Indifferent and callous stares greeted me as I tried to grasp ground and move out of the way. It was all foreign. All strange and unwelcoming. I felt uncoordinated and contorted, and I pawed and in a blink" he snapped his fingers "I was back on the streets of home. Well cultivated and maintained, organized buildings, ergonomically designed to suit every step, every incline. But my legs themselves were moving on their own, back to my ala mater, my school itself. I walked into the curved building I would have walked into every day in my youth, but when I did, I just became aglow in golden light. I awoke a second after."

'He was deliberating this all that he had heard thus far, silently for a few moments. All of this is a lot for me to even process now, and I don't possess half the intellect or capacity for thought of the Doctor. The way he managed to even construct any understanding of it all, is beyond me.'

"I should have known better than to come." he began again. "It's merely my own world, but with less interest in the advancement of technology, at least not that of practical usage, and more imbued and reinforced with singularity. Everything involves being polarized one way or another here, but it's not for anyones' gain at all! People forget or perhaps cannot realize just how connected they are! What they themselves are a part of. All of this is so illogical, but so is my arrival here! I mean, when I first came to you Rod, my approach was to understand the illogical. Not to control it. But even now merely supplanting my ability to do so has already come at a cost that boggles me now."

'He leaned forward, clasping his hands under his nose. "It was a mistake, my arrival. It was made out of careless endeavor, an expedition if you will, into...something that it should have been. What I thought was a new frontier. A world unknown and untouched by my own. I wanted to know...but I should have known." he stammered, glaring deep into the dinette's scuffs.'

'Of course Diary3.0, I was at a loss how to further explain to him what I had seen during the Rod-iite Brotherhood meetings and anything else of what I actually could remember. The Doctor, didn't hesitate aside from his contemplation to find questions. "What do you remember me saying? In the dream I mean, I need specific details." he said tapping his Panel for a new page.'

"I told you what you said. You sounded like you were grooming me, or molding me. Like I was being inducted to those Rods, or Rodd-iites whatever you call them. Like you, I was being welcomed into something."

"Welcomed into the Brotherhood itself?"

"No you had me inducted as the leader. Apparently all these versions of us already knew you."

'He tapped the Panel further, and did some fluidic motions with his thumb and pinky. He had been taking notes throughout our conversation, and with each tap of the new page his expression grew more puzzled. "You say that inducted you, as their leader?"

"Yes." I replied.

'He was even more puzzled now. "And they recognized my authority to do so?"

"Well authority not so much. You didn't strike me in the dream so much as a leader and more of a spokesman."

"For...you to lead?" he asked.

"From how it appeared, yes."

'He squiggled on his Panel, did two more thumb and pinky gestures, then tapped it again for a new page. He squinted down at it, then reached in his deep pocket for the newspaper. He rested it up against the Panel and held them both in front of him, staring at them. I remember being slightly confused and a little miffed. It hardly seemed the time to finish the crossword or the jumble or whatever. He didn't notice until he saw me looking at him, then back to the Panel and paper. "It may appear at least for you to see, that I am inattentive to solving our current predicament."

"A little." Honesty is the best policy Diary3.0. Lying just requires you to remember more.'

"Well, I'm sure you remember how I offered you a packet before when you left for space, I don't think we need to elaborate on that."

"No thanks."

"Right. Well, you had also mentioned that the other Rod-iites in the dream had mentioned packets, or that I had given them one during the speech or at another time."

"Yes, at least from what I remember."

'He paused, looking at the Panel and his folded paper.'

"What is it? What's it mean?"

'He looked at me, and said, and I remember this clearly Diary3.0: "I...do not remember giving anyone those packets. In a dream or otherwise. Aside from you. But the reason why this is significant, is because you dreamed of the packet itself before you had even gotten it. Before events here unfolded to force you to leave earth. The reason why I cannot replace that packet, your packet Rod, is simply because when I awoke that is all I could do. Write. I had no order, no semblance. I simply...had information, flowing through me. I wouldn't call it possession or anything like that, simply because that's even too illogical for even me to fathom Rod, and I've been exposed to almost all the early 'horror/thriller' genres that existed before they were admonished before I was born in my universe. But Rod, you must understand, that the packet I gave to you, the instructions you had, well, ironically lost, were those from my dream. The remainder of those documents were specifically the agendas I had calculated and planned for here, on your Earth. I hadn't even thought to calculate my own interaction in this universe somehow fragmenting into tangible realities of others."

'He gazed down now, looking back at the panel. "But what about the paper? What does that mean to you?" I asked.'

'And he just looked at me Diary3.0, with this strange look. It said everything but it was in a language I couldn't read. Symbols in front of his eyes beyond my understanding. He said "For your own well-being and safety, I insist this conversation-"

"Oh don't give me that garbage! Don't tell me that now, not after all this! What do you have there what is that! Lemmie see that!" I reached over to grab the paper across the dinette, scattering the doctor's cup to the floor. The Doctor jumped back, and inched back towards the Komm-bot, making it quack twice.

"Listen Rod, there were things that were beyond your understanding from the start. You would have naturally over time understood these things, had you been able to read what I had written. What was in that packet. But now because you did not, and I cannot reproduce those documents from memory, we are at a loss. A loss I have yet to factor or even hypothesize. We're in strange dark waters my friend, and more than ever we need to work together."

'I calmed slightly. He was right, and always was. I had no idea what was going on half the time. I had no idea anymore where my mind wandered, listless without a course. It's a terrible way to live and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone in retrospect. Even if nowhere is a place, it's worth traveling to if you think it's better than somewhere worse. I don't know why that sounds familiar Diary3.0. Anyway, after simmering, I remember sitting down, and the Doctor reseated himself once he noted my sedation.'

"I'm glad you're still capable of this. This, all this, is a lot to process Rod, even for me." he said, stooping while sitting to pick up the empty cup.'

'He paused for a moment, and continued, "Remember before when you said capable and I thought how funny that word was. Well, capable, is a word that may as well be a shackle. Because it's a word it's as meaningless as its connotation. It almost hinders you in a sense because it sets your mind to only think of what is capable, and what isn't. Based upon the word alone. A doctrine, a dogma frankly, that my world thought they had shaken. But in regards to a plausibility, of multiple natures such as this, it cannot apply. It's too logical to be accepted in a world which utilizes a notion like that. A world like yours. Here, and now."

'I folded my head in my hands. "But why?"

"Why what?

"Why is it less logical here than in your universe?"

'He smiled. "Very simple. In my universe the word capable was used in the same fashion to regard pure sciences, but disregarded illogical aspects of others. So it would hardly be possible there, simply because capable, became their bounds. Their yoke. Much like it was here...until..."

"Until?"

"Until my arrival. My influx, if it's not solely responsible than it is surely probable that it caused all that we've experienced. What you experienced in space and in your dreams. If they truly are connected based upon my memories, my, our patents, and everything that has occurred with you, then it must have come at the onset. Everything from the past until now. Even upon you witnessing my arrival." he stammered, gazing at the Panel and paper. "I-" his speech was stopped by his wristband, murmuring slightly, "Oh my god...Rod-."

'Our shared awestruck realizations were interrupted by a swift knock. Neither of us had realized that hours had passed and it was mid morning. "The Justice Department, your questioning!" he whispered.'

"Mr. Andrews. Rod Andrews."

'I turned from the door to see the Doctor flapping his wristband and he and the Komm-bot went Phasic mode. 'Do not let them make you nervous. Do all that I say and ask. The Komm-bot will be in range in case they try to jam my signal, rest assured. Good luck Rod.' I heard my ear hum. I rose, still in my grimy attire to the door. I didn't have a peephole, so I pulled it open as far as the chain would allow, to a badge id of what said 'Justice Department', clamped by two thick fingers and a staple to a summons with my name in bold.'

"Justice Department Mr. Andrews. Get dressed, today's your date with destiny." one of them muffled.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'The following is a transcript of a news briefing about the investigation and testimony of Mr. Rod Andrews, former CEO and President of PTEKK International, as provided by PTEKK Transcriptions.'

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Tuesday, January 15, 1991

10:45 EST

Richard Thornburgh: "Good morning. I'm Richard Thornburgh, Attorney General for the United States government. I am here today with the Deputy Attorney General for the District of Columbia Mr. William Barr, Clarence Purfeerst, Chairman of the Transportation Committee, Senator Conrad Burns, of the Senate Commerce Subcommittee on Science, Technology, and Space, and Mr. Allen Cizner, Chairman of the Subcommittee on Technology. We are here today to weigh accusations made against one Rod Andrews, former CEO and President of PTEKK International, including its various subdivisions. These allegations, are including and not limited to, conspiracy, involvement to commit and hinder a criminal investigation on part of Mr. Andrews or of PTEKK International, attempted bribery of public officials in the United States, The United States Justice Department, and the government of South Africa. In addition, regarding certain revelations made within the country of South African by their country's officials, as well as those made here in cities like Detroit, Omaha, Santa Fe, Portland, Memphis, and many other locations in the United States, that weapons of destruction, in the form of robotic 'legions' and highly advanced destructive materials, were constructed, and were to be potentially used on American citizens, or those of a democratic nation. These allegations were brought to light not only by South African authorities, but also by internal documents seized and delivered to the Justice Department, at the behest of former PTEKK Military Chairman, Marcus Spivy. Bailiff, could we have Mr. Andrews placed under oath at this time please?"

<Rod Andrews being placed under oath>

Richard Thornburgh: "Please have a seat Mr. Andrews."

Rod Andrews: "Thank you."

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Andrews, these allegations that you are here to face questions regarding, stem from accusations made by a former employee and division head of your company PTEKK International, one Marcus Spivy. In addition further allegations of misconduct on your part are being lobbied on the behalf of Mr. Ren Jameston, former head of PTEKK Security hired by Mr. Spivy during his tenure. Now, the evidence against Mr. Spivy and Mr. Jameston respectively, is overwhelming. Recorded tapes and sealed documents show complicit actions on both their parts for the control of PTEKK Military itself, and an intent to commit murder against Mr. Rod Andrews, and former head of PTEKK Legal Mr. Herbert Walker. There is also clear and evident proof that indeed a coup d'etat against PTEKK International had been organized, staged, and activated at the behest of these two individuals, perhaps more. The goal of this inquiry today is to determine the scope of involvement of all parties at PTEKK International, including all of their subsidies and divisions, the Justice Department officials responsible for carrying out the original investigation, and that of any other potential government figures or entities. I'd like the record to make note that Mr. Andrews has been placed under oath. Mr. Andrews do you recognize this as well?"

Rod Andrews: "Yes I do."

Richard Thornburgh: "Then I will declare this inquiry in order. Please make note of the date and time January the 15th of 1991 at 10:47 EST. Mr. Andrews, allow me to begin, were you aware of the hiring of former PTEKK Military Head and CEO Marcus Spivy?"

Rod Andrews: "Yes I was."

Richard Thornburgh: "Let the record show that Mr. Rod Andrews was aware of the fact that PTEKK International had employed Mr. Marcus Spivy. Mr. Andrews were you also aware of the hiring of former PTEKK Security Head Ren Jameston?"

Rod Andrews: "No I was not, the position which Mr. Spivy held at PTEKK Military allowed him control over its various subsidies, one of which being PTEKK Security. This position also allowed him ability to hire and fire those within his department at his own behest independent of the board."

Richard Thornburgh: "Do you remember the date in which you were aware of the hiring of Mr. Jameston?"

Rod Andrews: (inaudible) "It was this past Monday I believe at the emergency board meeting."

Richard Thornburgh: "If I'm correct in asking, that was the emergency board meeting that pre-empted your departure from Earth?"

Rod Andrews: "That's correct."

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Andrews, were you aware that Marcus Spivy and Ren Jameston had worked together at Carlyle before it was subsequently bought out and subsidized into PTEKK International?"

Rod Andrews: "He had mentioned it at the emergency board meeting itself, but not before hand no."

Richard Thornburgh: "Would you believe that either of these gentlemen Marcus Spivy or Ren Jameston would have reason to see that you were removed from your position at PTEKK International?"

Rod Andrews: "Not until that meeting itself, no sir."

Richard Thornburgh: "Did you monitor the activities of either Mr. Spivy and or Mr. Jameston?"

Rod Andrews: "Until that meeting, I had allowed the board members to authorize and manage their own decisions for their respective departments. Being that they held positions in former corporations, it was natural to assume that they were more than capable to take care of their own department's functions and to report them at the board meetings via teleconference in a timely fashion."

Richard Thornburgh: "Was this decision reached at your behest?"

Rod Andrews: "What do you mean?"

Richard Thornburgh: "The decision to make the departments themselves autonomous and responsible for themselves?"

Rod Andrews: "That decision itself was reached without my immediate consent. I'll admit I signed off, on a document delivered to me from PTEKK Legal, that allowed such measures."

Richard Thornburgh: "Which board member created the initiative to be decided upon?"

Rod Andrews: "From records that were available to me as well as the same ones seized by the Justice Department, it shows that Marcus Spivy was the creator of the initiative."

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Andrews, what type of power did Mr. Spivy wield at PTEKK Military? What products and technologies was he responsible for overseeing the manufacturing of?"

Rod Andrews: "To be specific, Komm-Bots, the large autonomous mechanized devices you've already seen, Kommissar5000's, but not the type that you witnessed me leaving Earth on that was specially designed. The ones I'm referring to are...how can I put this...they have more 'practical' uses.'

Richard Thornburgh: "Define practical Mr. Andrews, if you would."

Rod Andrews: "Well specifically, they're designed and utilized for aerial combat."

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Andrews I find it difficult to grasp how the creation of munitions and various elements designed for warfare can be considered practical."

Rod Andrews: "Well sir...I...it depends upon what your definition of the word 'practical' is."

Richard Thornburgh: "I don't follow you Mr. Andrews sir you'll have to elaborate."

Rod Andrews: "...To be reliable...when running a business, you have to pander to customers in such a way that your product suits, a demand. Or that it suits circumstance itself. One way or another, in order to make a living, we have to do business in such a fashion that is sometimes contrary to the interests of the individual, or that of a group or minority. The instability of the global commerce market, coupled with strife throughout many regions in the world, makes for what I'd call 'bad business', or a reliance upon a 'self-depreciating economy.' Now this idea of being self-depreciating is normally loathed in our society, or looked down upon by establishment and individuals alike. This isn't as the result of scorn I've found, but a lack of understanding. But, this lack of understanding, or perhaps in some cases a malevolent in nature, fuels elements that would rather rely upon such a paradigm than change begin to spawn. A cyclical and predictable notion of controlling the world. These people, if you'd call and compare them as such, use these means to an end to create an empire for themselves, and not for their fellow man. Now sir, when these...'people', who yearn for control simply because of a lack of it, or an affiliation of it with something else they lacked, it creates an unknown instability. You create the conflict itself, but one that fluctuates more than before. When such people, who gain control because they seek it, also create the ideas and notions of conflict, then you must, as a business, find a way to pander to that. It's the only way to please these people who seek control. It's also the only way to keep my business functioning. But when you appease people of this nature, three things occur: Those who control and monopolize already want more and more. The people who were uncertain, individuals, either follow such thinking for themselves, or they never gain a voice, and grow louder and more numerous as the cycle continues. This is the reason why I refer to it as a 'self-deprecating' economy sir. It's simply because it appeases and comforts both sides until it affects them directly and individually, something the entities that create such mechanisms cannot fathom. It's more practical sir, not to."

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Andrews, I understand the idea of attempting to remain practical, by your terms within business to...to...'pander' as you say to various conglomerates and interests that don't necessarily speak for a person, or sometimes a group. I work in government sir I understand this all too well. But you sir have a responsibility as a businessman and a figurehead. You are beholden to a notion of upholding freedom and democracy. You sir must have been aware that by even creating such devices, you yourself are equally subject and responsible for this...this cycle you speak of. Correct Mr. Andrews?"

Rod Andrews: "Well sir with all due respect we can both agree that my definition of the word 'practical' applies to my own understanding, correct?"

Richard Thornburgh: "I'd say that's a safe assumption, yes."

Rod Andrews: "As I mentioned before, I am a businessman, or at least attempt to be one. But I have to forgo my notions of being an individual to do so effectively. For my employees, the company shareholders, the beneficiaries and subsidies whose budgets are tied together, all these things and more require me to elevate myself, beyond what I myself would want. So in order for me to be the businessman I'm supposed to be, and be the human being I know I am, I have to do what I feel is right, rather than what I think is right. The position of myself as a business and conglomerate owner, required me to make continuous concessions. Practicality for me then, is to not 'rock the boat' or 'make people uncomfortable.' But the problem really is the fact that I'm not the only businessman or woman that does it. Or feels as though they have little choice but to not shake the status quo. My company has created many products that have aided across the world, but many of which would not be possible had it not been for venture capital generated from military and police related products. Products such as the Komm-bot and the Kommissar5000."

Richard Thornburgh: "So Mr. Andrews what you're basically saying is that you are one of what you are against in a sense. That you yourself recognize a market, a drive or need for a controlled system. Being in a position of power yourself must have allowed you to rub elbows with the very same individuals, thus perpetuating a system such as the one you made mention. Isn't that right Mr. Andrews?"

Rod Andrews: "I'll admit...that it was careless to allow a department such as PTEKK Military and its subdivisions, example being PTEKK Security, to be controlled by a single individual. That is all I can take personal responsibility for if that's what you're asking. That through, well, incompetence on my part, an avenue was left open and unchecked which individuals, not the company itself, utilized and exploited for their own gain. An attempted gain at that."

Richard Thornburgh: "One further question for now from me Mr. Andrews...Did you ever gain any impression from Mr. Spivy or Mr. Jameston that you or former PTEKK Legal head Herbert Walker's lives were in jeopardy?"

Rod Andrews: "No, I hadn't even met Mr. Spivy in person aside from teleconference, and the majority of his appearances if that's what you'd call them during such conferences were usually done with by his secretary."

Richard Thornburgh: "One...Mrs. Giovonno correct?"

Rod Andrews: "Yes I believe that was her name."

Richard Thornburgh: "And Mr. Jameston?"

Rod Andrews: "I have not met Mr. Jameston during any point of his employment or at any time whatsoever."

Richard Thornburgh: "Thank you Mr. Andrews, I'll allow other questions from the speakers, Mr. Barr?"

William Barr: "Just one question please Mr. Andrews, do you have any reason or understanding as to why Marcus Spivy or Ren Jameston would implicate themselves in the sealed documents, and then attempt to pass blame onto you?"

Rod Andrews: "My only explanation sir is they were under the impression that just because I had made a mistake allowing either of them to be employed, that others in the company weren't aware of their intentions. Without their help, I would not be speaking to you here today."

William Barr: "Thank you, Mr. Thornburgh?"

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Purfeerst?"

Clarence Purfeerst: "Thank you very much. Only two questions from me Mr. Andrews, please if you would in your own words explain the transportation process of normal Electron Cell deliveries from the United States abroad. And my second question, what went wrong in the transport of these...these Cells that managed to get to the uh...the Southern border of Botswana and in South Africa itself?"

Rod Andrews: "Yes, first they are generally delivered from factories via ground transport to the nearest docks to freighter carriers. Let's say for example from our Trenton plant you wanted to move Electron Cells, well then you'd take it to Port, whether it be Port Jersey, Red Hook Terminal, Elizabeth, we use them all frequently. However, there are certain instances where the transit of Electron Cells in can be done more clandestinely."

Clarence Purfeerst: "Would you elaborate on these instances please?"

Rod Andrews: "Yes these Electron Cells are normally transported by boat like I said, but when a country is in imminent or desperate need for them, we utilize low flying modified cargo transports to deliver them."

Clarence Purfeerst: "I'm sorry, if I may, one more extension to that question, were these Electron Cells that found their way into the hands of rebels in Botswana, flown in by such a method?"

Rod Andrews: "Under normal circumstances, Electron Cells destined for that region, in this case our Capetown affiliate. However in this case they were delivered to the location itself with our low flying modified cargo transports. Because their cargo in this case is unstable under high pressure conditions when not in proper containment, these transports are not permitted to travel on normal flying vehicle highways or air-road systems. However, reports were made of these transports being spotted entering low over the western African coast at night in places such as Orenjemund and Port Nolloth. They were spotted again engaging in landing formations in a location near the Mafikeng Industrial District, northwest of Lichtenburg. This location had later been determined to be a PTEKK facility which had been previously listed in our records merely as storage. It would appear at least according to the documents unsealed by the Justice Department, that Marcus Spivy was laundering funds gained from illicit arms sales of PTEKK weapons, and used the location in question to hide these funds until they could be wirelessly transferred, and to also house PTEKK munitions and weapons to be sold over the border to the north in the future. In addition, it would appear that the Komm-bots themselves were also slated by Mr. Spivy to be activated in Botswana. To what end he wished this for, we at PTEKK remain uncertain."

Clarence Pureerst: "And one more question Mr. Andrews I'm sorry, do you normally authorize such transports yourself or is this another option which department heads can execute at their own disposal?"

Rod Andrews: "At the department head's behest, I do not authorize direct transports for individual department logistics."

Clarence Pureerst: "Thank you, Mr. Thornburgh."

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Burns?"

Conrad Burns: "Thank you Mr. Thornburgh. Mr. Andrews, are these Electron Cells themselves used as the weapon?"

Rod Andrews: "No sir they are quite inert on their own aside from the effect on them in higher altitude conditions when not in a proper field of stasis, or otherwise induced to make them safer at such levels. The method to make Electron Cells into ammunition for example, entails splitting each individual cell. Upon doing so it essentially cracks into almost a powdery crystallized state, and when combined with standardized gunpowder and normal components found in shells and casings milled together for example, makes the detonation effects of such devices exponentially more powerful than they normally would be. In addition these substances when combined in such a state, deliver high levels of toxicity not only to the user themselves and anyone who manages to get hit by one of these mere particles from these ammunition, but also to the environment itself."

Conrad Burns: "Could you elaborate please on the construction process of these Electron Cells Mr. Andrews?"

Rod Andrews: "I'm afraid I cannot comment on that for legal reasons correlated to the patent held by PTEKK Intergalactic."

Conrad Burns: "Ok, back to these weapons, would you say the remnants these weapons leave are more toxic and dangerous than say, depleted uranium rounds?"

Rod Andrews: "When combined using the method I had mentioned before. Even the powder itself is harmless unless put into a high altitude state without the proper conditions taken into account. But when it is used in its projectile form, improperly I might add, will make it far more dangerous than any form of standard ammunition currently available."

Conrad Burns: "The crystallized powder form itself is not toxic you're saying?"

Rod Andrews: "Well I haven't tried eating it if that's what you're asking <laughs> But what we've found is that the only time it becomes toxic is when it is bonded in a in a potentially combustible chemical state. In this case with gunpowder."

Conrad Burns: "Are you aware of what causes the chemical and toxic reaction when this substance is combined with a combustible?"

Rod Andrews: "Currently no, simply because we hadn't intended to make them a form of combustible. They were designed to be a fuel source and not a form of ammunition."

Conrad Burns: "This is simply a technical question but, are we to assume then that PTEKK has managed to create a fuel source that negates the usage of substances like sulfur?"

Rod Andrews: "I'm afraid I cannot comment on that for legal reasons correlated to the patent held by PTEKK Intergalactic."

Conrad Burns: "What are the weapons that PTEKK Military and its subdivisions produce?"

Rod Andrews: "I'm afraid I cannot answer that question in the way that it is phrased sir."

Conrad Burns: "Allow me to rephrase; What are the weapons that PTEKK produces that you are at the legal liberty to disclose?"

Rod Andrews: "Well where to begin...we've designed many systems that specifically garner from individual usage to larger scale invasion devices. There are the Komm-bots which you're familiar with of course that offer two large multi-barreled electronic cannons which displace individual rounds from barrels in a patented 'honeycomb' design. We offer these weapons themselves on a useable turret as well. We offer personal displacement devices used for individual or army uses. On an individual scale, it's the size of a small aerosol can, and its purpose is to dispel attackers with the usage of heavy pneumonic waves that do not affect the user who is holding the device itself. It renders the potential attackers paralyzed from heavy skeletal reverberation. PTEKK Military also offers these according to their dossier on a 'Riot' scale, used for unruly crowds. The last weapon I am able to comment on is the Kommissar5000. Now this device is similar to the popular civilian Kelvary model, however with its newer additions it includes four of the honeycomb cannons as well other options that I cannot currently speak on."

Conrad Burns: "One more question Mr. Andrews, did you in any way supervise the construction of the original prototypes of these designs?"

Rod Andrews: "I did so at a distance, via teleconferencing abilities and through monitoring the plant's own internal surveillance systems."

Conrad Burns: "Plants, like the one located in...where was it...'a plant located near the Mafikeng Industrial District in South Africa.' Did you personally or have the capacity to personally monitor these suspected plants via teleconferencing or...whatever you mentioned earlier? May I remind you also Mr. Andrews you're still under oath."

Rod Andrews: "As I mentioned, the plants in question operated under the control of the head of their respective division, in this case PTEKK Military governed by Marcus Spivy. I was unaware that these facilities existed as more than storage facilities, and in that case teleconferencing in my eyes in unnecessary as I had previously mentioned regarding my division of department heads. Therefore, I did not feel it necessary to monitor these sites themselves, or any of our other storage facilities that are governed by separate divisions than the one in question. I personally, watch many of our plants, but I cannot watch them all. That is why I allowed the board members themselves to monitor their own activities within their own respective sectors. Allowing Marcus Spivy and anyone like him to rein control in any aspect of PTEKK International was a mistake that will not occur again."

Conrad Burns: "Nothing further."

Richard Thornburgh: "Thank you Mr. Burns, Mr.-"

Rod Andrews: "Excuse me-sir. If it would please the, uh...court, I would like at this time to read a prepared statement."

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Andrews you will be afforded that upon the completion of this inquiry."

Rod Andrews: "Sir with all due respect-"

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Andrews you will be permitted to make your statement upon the completion of this inqui-"

Rod Andrews: "Sir, Sir! I have answered your questions with respect to Mr. Cizner, but now I will pose one to all of you. Am I under suspicion of crimes related to Marcus Spivy or Ren Jameston?"

Richard Thornburgh: "We have yet to make that determination Mr. Andrews now please if you would si-"

Rod Andrews: "Sir I know exactly why this meeting was called and it goes beyond Marcus Spivy, Ren Jameston, and the allegations about smuggling into Botswana. You're specifically interested in the military applications and experiments currently being conducted at the behest of PTEKK Military am I correct? I'm assuming that the only reason I was even called, let alone bombarded with questions about its activities and not of Marcus Spivy's character, that I myself am under suspicion. Am I under such suspicion at this time? Anyone?"

Allen Cizner: "I do have one question that has yet to be asked if you would Mr. Andrews."

Richard Thornburgh: "Yes Mr. Cizner, Mr. Andrews, you will be permitted to make your statement after responding to Mr. Cizner's question, ok?"

Rod Andrews: "Fine."

Richard Thornburgh: "Go ahead Mr. Cizner."

Allen Cizner: "Thank you Mr. Thornburgh. Mr. Andrews, I understand your perspective regarding business, and I respect your understanding and ability to even run your enterprise as it has been thus far, regardless of certain circumstances. But what I find troubling, if not questionable, is the notion in which you seem to be convinced that it's necessary to make a militaristic product. You could have been more than apt or happy to make consumer products, or at least military products that didn't include weapons, advanced guns and most important bloodshed. Why did you feel it necessary to create such devices, and even potentially empower a man like Marcus Spivy to use it as a vehicle to gain power?"

Rod Andrews: "Mr. Cizner, gentlemen, this question is answered within my statement, if I may."

Allen Cizner: "I'm fine with it."

Richard Thornburgh: "So be it, you may read your prepared statement Mr. Andrews."

Rod Andrews: "Thank you, gentlemen, you like I, lived in a world that seemed almost on the brink. A world that seemed diverted of purpose, of meaning. This was an idea that in the past, had been forever left on the backburner of existence, a forgone conclusion to a foregone idea. This exemplified only what we saw, or recognized with whittled senses, watered down by a lack of insight or shared understanding. Ideas like this, which suggest the idea of a greater idea if you'd put it as such, are often scorned as 'illogical', or conformed to the ideals of a dogma, a malevolent white-bearded monster that throws bolts of lightening. But this is merely a manufactured taxation of guilt, or unawareness, or perhaps an abundant oversupply. We all have had our humble moments, as well as those of grandeur and self-exaltation, sometimes at the expense of others, willing or not. Intentional or not, it was our individual nature, and some respected it as such. Others did not. It's something we all shared that went deeper than simply living or breathing, and many cultures and ideas formed as a result, which brought anew aspects of constructed reality and social structure, to guide and aid the understanding of many. This had benefits, long and short. But conflicts still came. These conflicts, brought with them both the vilified and the enlightened. 'The good and the bad,' if you'd define it as such. Duality is a notion that best expresses it. Many in history come and gone, have sought such a purpose, for a greater purpose or their own disguised as such. This is not a political diatribe, or a rant concerning the economy, or liberals or conservatives, Ford or Chevy, Coke or Pepsi. Those things embolden humanity as a whole, but do not speak for it. They're simply words that attempt to speak for a feeling. Yet the only way they can is to polarize, one against another. Like our worlds, whether they be our neighborhoods or our countries, all share different and intrinsic notions of value. The cross sharing of understanding between many cultures of late naturally sets askew the how we view each other based upon things such as thing, without realizing the greater purpose. The alteration of perspective, that something is new. That it itself, is something beyond understanding for someone who is just understanding it. That is the beginning of enlightenment, of growth. It has been turned aside by many who see only the tangible of what they can simply see, or touch, or buy. This is a byproduct of meeting ones' boundaries, much as business today is about realizing the boundary of commodity, or space, or thought itself. But all restricted to what we know here now. Our planet, our earth. Until now. Gentlemen, I wouldn't bring this to light in this fashion if I didn't feel it necessary or urgent, but our planet itself, is in jeopardy. Jeopardy beyond which I can explain with merely words, and an extension that travels beyond more than instinct, or a feeling as some would know it. I have in my possession documents and evidence gathered from my Kommissar5000 that took the journey to space, which provides irrefutable proof that we are in fact not alone in this universe. In my passing out of our solar system I encountered what would be considered hostile craft who were engaging one another. While I had escaped from earth to evade a potential on my life from Marcus Spivy and quite possibly Ren Jameston or forces connected, data which had been gathered by my head of PTEKK Interstellar had been informed about activity noticed near the edges of our solar system. This had been initially dismissed as particle dust and various gaseous activity. However according to further analysis that I have here at my disposal on my Panel, is testimony by Matilda Terenstry, illustrating that upon her inception at PTEKK Intergalactic she had initialized the study of an extra solar program specifically designed to look for signals from space. I will upload that data for all present now. In doing so, she came across the evidence early on in the program, and that it did seem like there was activity on the fringes of our solar system. By analyzing the data further, she and her staff did conclude, after a spectral analysis had been done of the ships' paths. Both in the early data and that gathered from my Kommissar5000, share a trail pattern. Not the same, but of different ships each time. Upon hearing the first batch of data initially, I had approved a program between myself as CEO and that of Ms. Terenstry of PTEKK Intergalactic, for the design of the Kommissar5000 Galactic proto-type, the Kommissar5000 Military issue, whose plans were delivered to PTEKK Military for manufacture, and of course the Komm-bot and their integrated neural connection systems. All of these things gentlemen, I created to keep earth safe. In secret perhaps, but subjecting the public to a panic about impending danger or even extraterrestrial enlightenment prematurely, would be dangerous. Besides, as I had mentioned before, these ideas and subjects have become reserved for the strange or the 'absent minded'. My position and my privileged flight to the reaches of our galaxy and beyond left me in a strange quandary gentlemen: Reveal the truth and hope for the best? Or Sit on the truth and prepare for the worst? Well, I chose suppressing the truth. But I have prepared for the worst. The actions of Marcus Spivy and his deceitful nature have shown the world my intentions, but not the reasons. I do not seek control of earth. I seek protection of it at all cost. Whether or not these beings intend harm or not, is not the question. There is no question in my eyes gentlemen. Humanity must be prepared, for it is themselves at stake this time. Not land, not oil, not mineral deposits, themselves, and their very lives potentially. For no potential reason, other than a mere difference. A different based upon a lack of understanding. These creatures may see us in the same way, as we have inadvertently seen ourselves and each other for too long. They may not. Why not be prepared for both? When I had made mention of practical before, as being a word that meant different things to different people, I meant it. But not acknowledging potentials is dangerous, and my only mistake was that I did not acknowledge the potential intentions of Marcus Spivy or his cohorts. Not acknowledging his potential actions, has found me here before you all, subject to questioning and scandal. I was not prepared for his actions gentlemen, I will however, be prepared for any extra-terrestrial incursion. I assure you of that. Thank you gentlemen for allowing me to issue my statement, at this time however there has been an emergency board meeting called between myself and the various department heads, and I must leave immediately. I will be remaining in the country to answer further questions if they should be asked but at this time I feel I have answered all that I can regarding this inquiry and the allegations it presents. Thank you gentlemen and goodbye."

Richard Thornburgh: "Mr. Andrews you will- Mr. Andrews you will remain at this inquiry! Mr. Andrews!

End Transcript.

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17.

'After that Diary3.0, everything continued to change in our favor. The Justice Department had no further headway in its perceived accusations of myself or even PTEKK. The government couldn't argue against irrefutable proof that the ships I had seen, were the catalyst for me, and everyone else, to accept that the Komm-bots had been created to fight against alien invaders specifically. Even if it was irresponsible and reckless for me to create them and allow Spivy to know about them. At least from what they saw. The images I displayed without warning at the inquiry of the battle in space itself, solidified any resolve I had in the public's eye. Instead of fleeing justice from prosecution regarding creating of weapons of destruction, I was preparing for a great conflict. A showdown coming at our world from space itself, that I hadn't let the public be aware of for their own safety. For the safety of mankind. It was a brilliant and impulsive strategy, even for the Doctor. I had honestly believed that the Komm-bots themselves were to be used against other countries stifling our growth, or that the Doctor himself wanted to secretly rein control. The suggestion made my me at the inquiry, who even during the end of days was considered a technical prophet and a media darling, that aliens were about to attack our Earth, unified humanity in ways previously unheard of. No-one saw any form of division, the only saw neighbors and fellow humans. Politicians and leaders of the past had used fear as a mechanism, a tool utilized to gain control. But not a fear like this. Nothing like what PTEKK had achieved, or more importantly, what the Doctor had. But imperfections, as he referred to them, still required mending.'

'A little over three years had elapsed, and our technological control reined ahead. Spivy and Jameston were memories under the watch of Ms. Terenstry, and Herbert Walker had begun receiving proper medical treatment with the aid of our company's facilities. PTEKK's neural connection systems had been on the market for over a year now, shakily at first, but were being implemented for usage across the planet. It would coordinate human suggestion merely by thought. Phones, appliances, automated telling machines, computers, televisions, all responded to human thinking patterns to suit the consumer. There were of course continued developments and innovations being developed by the Doctor. Products themselves that catered to the consumer, but more importantly to our own objectives which could be executed with little notice. The flow of his ideas never abated, his memory full to the brim of inventions from his own universe. Earlier that year he had released an updated fluid-frame dynamic system, which has something to do with fluidic weight distribution to increase propulsion in Kommissar5000's and Kelvarys. The Doctor had said that 'he originally remembered this idea when he was watching a hawk dive outside,' adjacent from his day-glo window-throne. He's still a riot, even thinking about it now. He even came up with newer features he had forgotten to add to the Komm-bots, as well as various new designs of the Komissar5000 and the weapon systems themselves. Naturally, our continued presence in the field of military products did ruffle a few feathers.'

'Sweeping conspiracy cases of this nature under the rug was simple. Every affluent partner we had, either in America or in the world relied in some way on our products. On the individual level, most people had already been employed by PTEKK in some fashion, and received compensation in various and generous forms to look the other way. Even Ronald Reagan, three term president, found that he couldn't suppress public ideal for change either. "It's one thing to have an idea. It's only a good one if you can use it to feed and clothe yourself." Sound logic which hadn't hit me as hard until recently. He was seeking another term but his vice president was attempting to question the validity of his tenure. I didn't focus much on politics anymore, as my stint with the Justice Department had soured me to Federal intervention. Most times PTEKK was more then capable of proper oversight of its actions. However, our products did experience noticeable difficulties.'

'By noticeable of course I do mean that they were heavily advertised in the press. Because of the sway we lobbied throughout most sectors, the dwindling arrogant interests that hadn't allied with us for the common good, as we knew it, relied mostly upon their own media concerns to cover our faults. Few if any cases were deemed completely detrimental. We did for a while Diary3.0, have an issue with one of our kitchen appliances and their neural connection systems. There was a case if I'm not mistaken, brought up of course in the form of litigation, that involved a woman thinking about 'how she could just throw the toaster right at her husband's fat head if he didn't like his toast crispy'. Incidentally, after PTEKK Legal sustained their ire with a substantial payout, we did correct the problem which was not a systemic issue for all the neural connection units. There was also of course the City-Bot wiring malfunction I had mentioned earlier. But, regardless of the potential recall scares and mountains of paperwork, being more attentive as my position would allow meant I could look at what others would call 'drudgery'. Though officially I had no capacity as CEO or President in the company, Ms. Terenstry had no problem with me aiding in development aspects. Besides, I still technically lived at PTEKK International HQ. Some of it was quite hilarious, and I actually found myself enjoying my work. Far more challenging and entertaining than McDonald's, at least in my universe.'

'The Komm-bots themselves, were an achievement on their own. While Spivy and his efforts had managed to portray them as simply military machines, the Doctor had other ideas in mind. Long story short Diary3.0, before the arrival of PTEKK and in the wake of the emergence of a global economy in America, jobs were scarce, especially those in the manufacturing. New innovations that were available before the Doctor's arrival, had given humanity hope that their technological revolution lay just over the horizon. Ms. Terenstry felt this logic was sound. She herself knew this would become the new medium, and utilizing many of the newer systems PTEKK had discovered, patented, and marketed, she wanted to give back. She had told me later on that what inspired her was the video footage of myself giving away the crates of food and other toys from the affluent, to my neighbors. The footage which she loved and Spivy loathed, and which sparked the world into blossoming anew. She authored new legislation with the aid of her own political connections, which created over one-million new manufacturing jobs in a single fiscal period. PTEKK's stock had split three times in that period as well. She dethroned me and Warren Buffet as Forbes's 'Person of the Year.' Well earned in my opinion Diary3.0.'

'Ms. Terenstry, did far more than that though. The Kommissar5000's and the Kelvarys from Saab/Scania were being bought across the world. Flying cars had become the main new method of world transit, and because PTEKK controlled the patent at its most basic levels. Mercedes, Ferrari, Lamborghini, every car manufacturer wanted technical fairness, and PTEKK was more than apt to share. However, we had more leverage in product creation, litigation, and sales, than even the United States government could boast. Not to mention we already controlled the flying car grid system that had been established for our own product. It was difficult for any government or nation to prevent so many pre-existing systems from entwining their societies, driven solely by demand. In retrospect Diary3.0, PTEKK did overstep its bounds, even during its welcome growth.'

'One of the main reasons Matilda Terenstry had become so popular, was because she ensured from her position that America remained the primary mechanism of economic stability, even in this new era. PTEKK itself traded on the dollar by the dollar, and Wall Street seemed to grow living in our shadow. I recall eyebrows being raised and howls of unfairness at her choices of products to be developed in America. She had chosen the most generic, intricate, and thus important parts to be designed and manufactured specifically in the United States. For example, Servo-Mechanisms were developed and constructed there, as these mechanisms were used in more than just Komm-bots. Almost every consumer robot and vehicle used them in some way. If anyone said ever said PTEKK played favorites, they were right.'

'In addition to this, she had also bolstered the employment of PTEKK using the Komm-bots as a vehicle. The neural connection systems that we had innovated were directly implemented into the Komm-bots and the Kommissar5000's respectively, making them all hypersensitive to human electric impulse, as well as that from a computer. The Kommissar5000's neural connection was still limited for direct human usage, though programs had been developed to allow neural connective flying. From their own Panels or terminals they could be offered, employees could now control Komm-bot functions from their living rooms. She told me later, that one of the inspirations to her was her visit to PTEKK International's own headquarters. While to me and the Doctor it was simply as the result of my frugalness, or perhaps my own sense of fear that we remained there, Ms. Terenstry felt that I had pioneered an ideal method of business that specially garnered to an ideal of productivity; low overhead. Over three-quarters of Americans were working for PTEKK in some way, whether directly or through a subsidiary. One out of four world-wide. All this sparked from just not feeling like leaving my apartment. It was an unheard level of advancement for any era since the discovery of the flame. America, humanity, had finally begun to prosper.'

'So Diary3.0, the Komm-bots themselves continued unabated in construction, this time aided legally and happily by a grateful global workforce and not simply churned out by some heartless machine. The Gun-Arm Collarbones and alloy frames were forged in now reborn Russia, and their electrical components in China, bridging a gap that Democracy and simple Economics could not. Armoring systems and metal spider silk linens were pioneered by our subsidy corporations in Laos, Tokyo and even Rio de Janeiro. With the idea that Earth itself could even be in potential jeopardy, prosperity and understanding rode the coattails of our unbridled cultural influence. In every country PTEKK had influence, independent of the government or militia forces, was an advanced compliment of operators capable of utilizing either the Kommissar5000 or the Komm-bots themselves. These units could be used at the discretion of military forces, but worked at the behest of PTEKK itself. I had later learned that some of Matilda's 'summer reading', included Ayn Rand, Winston Churchill, and even Erwin Rommel. Though she was ruthless in business and the defense of earth and our company, Matilda was willing to listen to ideas. The Doctor's, through me or my own, even if I was still a 'fine idiot' in her eyes.'

'One of the things I had observed through other companies growing up the impact they could have for cultural benefits. While the product of course was American, it didn't mean that the locals who bought it couldn't transform it on their own. Matilda understood this, and knew that our products had become so engrained within our whole global society, that it could inhibit a pre-existing culture. This is why Diary3.0 I personally loved the open patent system, even if it contributed to the drudgery. We had new ideas and refurbishments the Doctor himself didn't think of. Every employee who worked for us knew our products in and out, but would be paid in addition to all the problems they could correct. This meant that many scientists and engineers would spend their night hours recruiting 'guinea pigs', either fellow PTEKK employees who could also sign off on benefits and credits, or random people, completely unaffiliated with the company. They'd try out new seats for Kelvary's, weight-withstanding systems for Komm-bots, all sorts of different things. It also allowed for new sponsors and companies to emerge, City-Bot Volleyball tournaments and boxing matches. My favorite of course are the Kommissar5000 races around the PTEKK Lovell Raceway around the moon and back. Old ideas of the past met new technologies of our future headlong, producing much of the same but in a new advanced light.'

'The idea was to get everyone involved on the most basic level of the production, since the majority of earth was purchasing our product, or working for us directly anyway. It gave a new voice to production, and bridged an unexplainable gap in public understanding. The more advanced me made the world, the more open it had become to sharing ideas. The Doctor always laughed about this, calling it 'Uncommon, for any universe.'

'But in retrospect Diary3.0, I was starting to become a little more vain during that time. I was still more extroverted then than I am now Diary3.0, but that was the start, where my arrogance had begun to render me blind. I was jet-setting more then than PTEKK's initial blitz for promoting the Hover Scooter, and I found myself talking to all sorts of people who would have never talked to me. Or I would have avoided out of fear I suppose. I was also beginning to become pampered by the treatment normally awarded to the incredulously wealthy. My clothes were no longer stained rags, donning fashionable suits and shoes instead. My hair wasn't misshapen like it had been, and I had even been complimented on how I smelled on a daily basis, which seemed a feat in unto itself. My mood had noticeably improved as well. Still, the lavish changes to my appearance didn't alter PTEKK International's headquarters. The Doctor, in a sense of comfort rooted in familiarity I'd imagine, said he preferred the same day-glo neon interior. He asked of very little and seemed quite self-sustaining for a foreigner to another universe, so I felt it was very little to ask to make him happy.'

'As I had mentioned with the aid of Ms. Terenstry and PTEKK Intergalactic, which had now apparently overtaken the Chrysler Building where she had originally found available space, we had begun to work in fields of science that even the Doctor had only dreamed of. In his universe such experiments bordered an absence of logic, which made them less appealing or accepted. But here, in his own Petri Dish, he could begin new experiments. In order to hinder the growth of ships such that we had seen do battle in the Kommissar5000's footage, we had to corner the market. There were also rumors at the time among various PTEKK employees, which made a blurb in Reuters, that PTEKK Intergalactic was working on a battleship of our own. Convinced of course that we had merely utilized our creativity to mimic what we had seen, quite effectively, it allowed the Doctor to determine just how the ships that we could potentially make would wind up traveling through the past. Thinking of this apparently, had sparked an idea that was foreign even in his own universe. The idea that would later become known as TransFlash.'

'Now, TransFlash, is hard to explain, much as it is to think about. Unless your name is Doctor Rod Bandever. Then it's as simple as seeing a particle of dust travel through the glare of curtain cracks while you're brainstorming about space. According to him 'It allowed the transfer across space, in such a fashion where objects would be reduced in weight and size to a proton, and then accelerated and manipulated as one. But it worked much like light itself would fragment when passed through a spectrum, and just as quickly.' It had almost nothing to do with weight factors or even possible space. The largest amount of cubic space we have been able to move at one time in one usage, was the size of a full hanger at La Guardia. From top to bottom in total volume transferred as well. It was an astonishing feat for mankind, a method of transporting goods and mail that no longer even required a long range flight, freighters, fuel, or manpower. The concept of logistics itself changed overnight. It was compared to the 'replicator' from TV's Star Trek, except that it would still require the goods themselves. In a way it was more like the show's transporter system, but with goods ready on demand and flashed on the designated location almost instantly. Most importantly Diary3.0, it later allowed the transit between dimensions themselves.'

'The only downside of the usage of TransFlash was the abundant power it required, regardless of its popularity. To the delight of PTEKK and all of us however, the popularity meant that the demand for Electron Cells had skyrocketed, easily covering their costly production. When coupled with the logistics of transporting large amounts of goods back and forth between dimensions, it became quite lucrative and effective. It was an instant success. Later, it would be found to be toxic to human contact, or at least prolonged contact or usage, but the Doctor had anticipated this. He said he 'fell into an ethical quandary' when it came to transporting living individuals using TransFlash. That quandary, presented itself, in the form of what our world had come to dread most, but was more than prepared for.'

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ABC NEWS SHOW:

20/20 (ABC 9:00 pm ET)

April 29, 1994

Transcript #1401-2A

'EARTH UNDER SIEGE': THE LEGACY OF KAMA-KAMA

During the Earthen siege of April the 10th-11th , known to many now as 'E-Day', against a force known only as SOLSA, Rafael de Flavio, a Kommissar5000 racer who had been competing for Brazil's honor at the PTEKK Invitational at the Lovell Interstellar Raceway, orchestrated one of the most valiant and coordinated aerial defenses, sacrificing himself for his homeland after racing back to earth. He is remembered with interviews of fellow racers, family, close friends, and previous interviews.

Hugh Downs: What would normally have been a casual galactic racing event became one of the most potentially catastrophic events in our history; the alien invasion of earth itself. Aided by the forces of PTEKK International and the aligned forces of earth's governments, the invaders themselves were repelled and driven off. The damage to earth's infrastructure itself was surprisingly minimal, and the attack accounted only for the deaths of three people, all Kommissar 5000 racers participating in the Lovell Galactic 500. Two of whom, Jonathan Garret of the United Kingdom and Arnold Peezler of the United States, were killed making their way back to earth when the force still known only as SOLSA, entered our solar system during their race. Their memory will be remembered by all of earth, and inspired one man, Rafael de Flavio, known to many throughout the globe as Kama-Kama, a fellow racer making his way back to earth, to act. Managing to outrun and outmaneuver the incoming fire, he bravely orchestrated with his own regional PTEKK Militia and other support aircraft, one of the most dynamic aerial defenses that had yet to be witnessed in any theatre of warfare since the Battle of Britain. He died during the battle itself, but is remembered by family, friends, and fellow Kommissar5000 racers in this report by John Stossel.

John Stossel, ABC News: [voice-over] Outside and around Rio de Janeiro the name Rafael is one commonly heard, shared by old and young alike. But the name that most people recognize when it comes to Rafael, is Kama-Kama, SAAB-Scania's sponsored Kommissar racer. Born in the outskirts of the City of God, Rafael de Flavio didn't have the comfort of an affluent upbringing. He led by example during his youth, trying to keep friends out of trouble with gangs and police, and working jobs in the field with his father to earn a living for themselves.

John Stossel: [on camera] Revitalization and agrarian development are on the rise here more than ever in Brazil and most of South America. But only a few years ago the government was bankrupt, and the people of this region had been impoverished long before the initiatives pioneered here by PTEKK. But this issue had been overlooked by PTEKK management, until it had been brought to the attention of Mr. Rod Andrews by one man, then 15, Rafael de Flavio.

John Stossel: [voice-over footage] This BrazilTV interview of Rafael's first meeting with Mr. Andrews, representative of PTEKK International, tells the tale of a friendship bridged by a chance encounter, and a challenge.

Rafael de Flavio: [translated] "The first day he came, Mr. Andrews...I didn't know what to think of the man but I was so excited. I couldn't believe, this American, this person who had more riches than anyone, and gave them away and shared would come to my village. My people, weren't the most well off. I remember running off my porch into the street and there were children swarming all around him with Komm-bots in tow. They were hanging off them like they were tree limbs as they quacked back and forth. He had come for a conference, in Rio but said that he wanted to see the country, to see 'our world as we knew it', as he said. He had come on his own without any other people, flying in on a modified Kommissar5000, which was beautiful. I had seen one in pictures in magazines and on the tv, but never up close before. I remember it didn't even smell like grease or gasoline or anything else. It just hummed in place over the ground even when he had powered it off, which amazed everyone. He noticed me though, looked right at me. He could tell I wasn't that impressed. Not with his technology, or his Komm-bots, but of him."

[interviewer] [translated] 'What do you mean?'

Rafael de Flavio: [translated] "He looked like a suit, hardly the type I'd come to know as good. Guys who looked like him where the types the cut down old timber or would buy up land for themselves, or I'd hear would kidnap and cut the thumbs off people who didn't agree with what they did. I didn't trust him to look at him, even if his inventions were the best in the world. I remember thinking, 'So what if he was poor and worked his way up? At least he lived in America where you could do that.' But he noticed, and gave me this look, and looked at his Panel, and I remember what he said, he said "What is your name?" with his, uh his Panel's translation module."

Rafael de Flavio: [translated] "I knew since he had his Panel that he didn't speak Portuguese. I only knew some English at the time. I told him my name, and he said through his Panel 'What do you kids do around here? What do you do for fun?' and I said "Well, it depends on what you mean by fun." and he gave me that look again, and he said 'What do you mean?' I motioned for him to follow, where we left town with all the children following in tow, to the train tracks on the outskirts of our village. I told his Panel to tell him, that the only real way to have fun around here, was to ride the trains. He didn't know I meant to ride them on the top, not in the cabs. I told him to sit down and wait, and he did. I remember sitting there, and even though he looked and seemed like he was just some suit in another company, he was just different. He was looking at everything around him, taking in all of my homeland. I remember thinking how strange he was. Nobody had ever cared about us before, let alone someone so famous. We were waiting for the train to pass below, and when it finally came, I jumped down from the landing above. He just looked at me like I was crazy, and I waved him on. I said "Come on don't be a bicha!" and he didn't look very happy <laughs> but he jumped down onto the train, and it went down the tracks. The other children we left behind were just cheering as we left, like they always did for me."

[interviewer] [translated] 'What happened next?'

Rafael de Flavio: [translated] "He had the guts to surf on top of the rail car. It didn't stop until later down the track about 40 miles away. I could see the Kommissar5000 he came in following the train, along with a couple of camera crews it looked like. They always followed him around like he was a god. I knew he was just a man, but it was better than what I thought he was, which was just another version of something we'd all seen in my home before. Something that just never understood us or wanted to. He was different."

John Stossel: [voice-over] This bonding between the elusive CEO and a random teenager from the rubbles outside Rio, sparked one of the greatest renovations and rebuilding campaigns in history. All in part, to de Flavio.

Rafael de Flavio: [translated] "We had gotten chased off the top of the train by the conductor and down the tracks, and we were both tired when we escaped and the train went on without us. When we walked back, I remember him looking out over the valley and out of breath asking "Why I rode the rails?" through his Panel. I told him that we didn't have much to do, and it was a way to keep out of trouble. He seemed, like he didn't enjoy the danger of it. He really seemed to not like me doing it, or other children. I never wanted them to do it though I just wanted to do it myself. I can see now why Mr. Andrews had told me, that...how did it go? It's...better to be a good example in your own eyes, so then all you see, you can do,<laughs> or something like that."

John Stossel: [voice-over] Rod Andrews known for his philanthropy and generosity would comment after his return to the United States that he was, 'alarmed at the lack of available aid for momentum in South America for its people.' to the Associated Press when he landed. Ms. Matilda Terenstry, CEO and President of PTEKK International, echoed these concerns in one of her weekly press releases.

[press footage] Matilda Terenstry: 'The lack of productivity and growth of exploitation in this region has been tied specifically to the proliferation of materials which were once necessary in the developing world. I will be working closely with members of Congress and the US Senate to draft legislation that aids in the sustained growth and development of our neighbors to the south. Their world was forgotten by greed and ignorance, but our world, develops together now as one.'

John Stossel: [on camera] Not since the days of the early conglomerates down here had such promises or incentives even been dreamed of, but as you can see behind me, the suburbs of Rio are prospering.

John Stossel: [voice-over footage] New businesses are thriving in this region with abundant funding and production aid from PTEKK itself. Where you'd expect to see farmers, timber-workers and miners, you now see students, pilots, City-Bots, shoppers, all the same things you would normally see walking around in New York City. But while these growing changes helped launch this deprived area into economic and social prosperity, it did more for Rafael de Flavio.

John Stossel: [voice-over footage] We talked to his neighbor, who only identified herself as Ieticia. She talked about how Rafael had studied for the employment entry exams the minute PTEKK had begun to make developments in the region, after he had personally talked with Rod Andrews.

Ieticia: [translated] 'He had tried so hard, he made money for his family from PTEKK by learning to make their things. He learned they had formed a racing league in space for their ships, and he wanted to sign up. Everyone wanted him to become a racer, it was something he just wanted to feel and do. When he did, everyone was so happy for him.'

John Stossel: [voice-over footage] His father, Lucas de Flavio, talked with us on the porch outside his home. The very porch where Kama-Kama himself first saw Rod Andrews, sparking the beginning of his adventures.

Lucas de Flavio: [translated] 'We worked in the fields together each day, every day. He asked me one day 'Papa, what are we?' and I told him 'We are what we make and do, and what we're made of, makes who we are and what we can do.' He was always asking questions, wanting to know things that I could not answer for him. I'm not that gifted. His mother died when he was very young, and he had no brothers or sisters to look after. He made new brothers and sisters at the orphanage and kept them out of trouble. He was a great person. I'm proud that even though he had to leave, he made our home better. I am very proud of my son Rafael.'

John Stossel: [voice-over footage] This is Father Domingo El Salvarez, who ran the local orphanage.

Domingo El Salvarez: [translated] 'Rafael was not an orphan, but he treated them as his family. He was always coming by to play soccer or to bring the children books or fruit, even before PTEKK had come. After they did, and he began working for them, things around here began to change for the better. People had jobs, food wasn't scarce and people weren't hungry. He also donated most of his race winnings to my parish, as well as others in the region. He told me 'I have no use for it, if I know that my home is no different than I left it.' He was a blessed man.'

John Stossel: [voice-over footage] While many knew Rafael de Flavio as a kind and caring man towards his homeland of Brazil and its people, he was best known recently for his racing achievements.

[race footage of Flavio winning the past 2 Lovell 500's and winning the Mercedes Phobos Invitational]

John Stossel: [voice-over] Kama-Kama won over 7 races in his first year for Saab-Scania's Galactic team before he had even turned 18. For the still new twist on an old sport, he was making a remarkable name for himself while testing even some of PTEKK's new equipment. A familiar face at PTEKK, even at the age of 17, Rafael had dreamed of working for his newfound hero Rod Andrews the minute after he had met him. In this rare interview before the death of Kama-Kama, Rod Andrews himself boasted about meeting the up and coming star.

Rod Andrews: [interview footage] 'I still remember first offering him a job after the first day I met him. He had a knack for almost everything we made. He could look at any schematic that we had and could find little tweaks or additions just to make it easier. It was uncanny and he would do this, in front of engineers and scientists who had gone to school for years to do this, and they'd love it. I mean the kid was like 17 and was showing up at our labs, trying to sleep on the floor when it was closing time, just because he wanted to help. I had to give him a job or DHS would have thought he was child labor <laughs>, he just never wanted to stop learning about the stuff we were making everyday. It just felt good to see someone like that so young and bright. Made me smile, <laughs>.'

John Stossel: [voice-over] He had become a media sensation overnight, millions across the globe tuning in to watch the races live. Because of the evidence of SOLSA itself being brought to light, global space-flight restrictions had been in effect, aside from the racers themselves and the officials. But being able to watch a space race in action was still a wonder for many to grasp. Canadian and fellow Kommissar5000 racer Kent Snyder, known to many by his PTEKK user name Ott, managed to veer away from the SOLSA ship attacking the race. He told of the kindness that Kama-Kama would exhibit on and off the track.

Kent Snyder: [interview] 'I remember during the 3rd lap of the Phobos Invitational, my wiring to my Kommissar, had stopped functioning and my electrical power had shut down my shielding system, and I found myself without propulsion, and heading into a large rock <laugh>. It wasn't as funny at the time but Kama, I mean, I still don't know how he did it but he nudged my ship, with his shield. Just enough to clear the rock. It was unbelievable. He stopped and used the diagnostic arm, mine wasn't functioning, and he stayed there until a SupportKomm arrived. And then he just blasts off and gains 4 or 5 places before I'm even back in the pit. Won the race that day even though he stopped and he radioed to make sure I was ok after I was back on the surface. My craft was useless but I'm glad in a way, I'm glad that he won instead of me. About the best human being I can think of.'

John Stossel: [voice-over] Fellow Team Saab-Scania Kommissar5000 racer Ögmundr Møller, known by the user name Ögre, talked to me about his friendship with Kama-Kama.

Ögmundr Møller: [translated] 'When I would race in cars before, we'd have people who would want to learn the course one time and just go home. Kama would be there even after he'd done one lap, and he'd want to do more. He'd look for the easiest track to follow. Most people who we race with now are still used to a road track. He was able to think in four dimensions to use space, his ship, and the course to his advantage. When he would race...it was watching art in motion. Harmonious.'

[SOLSA siege footage]

John Stossel: [voice-over] After the attempted siege of earth by SOLSA and the death of Kama-Kama, a week of mourning was declared by the UN. PTEKK closed its doors for two weeks, paid leave for all employees, declaring an earth emergency. Police Komm-bots were deployed in each city to prevent upheaval or disruption to the services or the parades of vigils, but no violence was declared. In fact, no crime was reported to have been committed during those two weeks. Every country displayed condolences to the fallen racers, with flags at every capital at half mast since.

George Bush: [footage of vigils] 'Today, we honor heroes of not three nations, but of all nations. Of our world. These men bravely gave their lives, eluding a foe that fights without mercy, without dignity, and without respect for life itself. These men were not conquerors, and their crafts were not armed. They were racers, and exhibited the finest stature and conditioning to achieve their goals. Watching their efforts and feats above us, made us all explorers of a new frontier which many of us have yet to experience first hand. These men taught us that life, our lives, were precious enough to die for, and worthy enough a cause to live for. We must not let their sacrifices go in vain. By actions granted to me as Vice President of the United States acting in accordance with and on behalf of the President, Congress, the Senate, and the UN Security Council, as of today April 13th 1994, I hereby declare war upon this force, this SOLSA. Wherever they are, wherever they're from, we will find them, and we will destroy them. This action will not stand, it will not stand against the world of earth.'

John Stossel: [voice-over] Though the world hadn't prepared for the possibility of invasion, Kama-Kama had promoted that earth remain ready, believing that a threat may be imminent from working closely within PTEKK. He worked with local friends and fellow PTEKK employees of Brazil and his region to form a funded militia. They were trained mostly in the repair of Agricultural-Bots and House-building Form-Bots, but were trained to use the PTEKK Komm-bots and the military equivalent of Kama's racer, the Kommissar5000. Art Lescar, an Agricultural Robot Technician, was part of Kama's now disbanded militia and was there that fateful day. He had known Rafael since he was young, growing up at Father Salvarez's orphanage. He goes by the user name Hinty, and told me his story.

Art Lescar: [interview] 'We were all watching the race on tv when we saw the flash and the ship behind them. We didn't know what to do. I saw Kama, Hoon (Peezler), and Loppo (Garret) being chased by it on tv. Ott and the others had veered off the other direction back towards the past lunar checkpoint. It just blew apart Hoon and Loppo but it couldn't shoot Kama. It just couldn't touch him. He was just strafing everything they shot at him until they followed him into the atomosphere. The race footage cut off and I remember running to my Kommissar with everyone else and just getting up there as soon as we could. We rallied together, Kama had just come down from orbit with a bunch of ships that looked like ours chasing him. He was just this brilliant kid though he could think four-dimensionally, I think it's a requirement of working for Rod Andrews, <laughs>, but uh...but he had a couple of battle plans ready, and we went through at least three or four of them before...uh before he got...he got hit.

[Kama-Kama death footage]

Art Lescar: [interview] 'I'll never forget it. I was there I saw it happen, I could have done more. Rod...Mr. Andrews was watching it all happen just like everyone else and upped the credit ante to win saying how 'He'd be out there in five minutes to finish them himself', and Ms. Terenstry had to put him under guard by Komm-bots to stop him. On Comm channels across the grid you could just hear people sobbing and screaming. It just shook everyone there, and there was just...nothing left of him. I couldn't handle myself I just...lost it.'

[Art Lescar High Score Footage]

Art Lescar: [interview] 'People come up to me...after all that happened and say 'Oh man Hinty you were there with Kama-Kama you're a legend and You're amazing at what you do, all that. I just...didn't even care anymore. We lost three people that day, only three, but one of them was Kama. It was enough to just...just change everything for me you know?'

John Stossel: [interviewing] You're working with PTEKK Military now, officially correct?

Art Lescar: [interview] 'That's right. Signed up that day for Komm-bot duties.'

John Stossel: [interviewing] You think that's what Kama would have wanted?

Art Lescar: [interview] 'I know how to work with robots and I just can't let them get away with it. I can't do it. Besides there's no more militia, because there's no Kama. We're all fighting for him now. All of us... Only friend I had.'

John Stossel: [on-camera] Hinty wasn't the only one to sign up for PTEKK after the attack. PTEKK's employment had already been bolstered during its technological growth, employing over 1 out of 4 in the world itself. But employees who were formerly civilian operators and technical advisors, were now gearing up with the aid of PTEKK Komm-bots, for increased pay and simulated Komm-bot military training included.

John Stossel: [interviewing] Are you worried that, you'll lose your friends or family if SOLSA return?

Art Lescar: [interview] 'I'm more worried that they will come back at all. I will be there to prevent them from coming back. To stop them. It's what Kama would have wanted.'

John Stossel: [voiceover] In this reporter's opinion, maybe before we rush to battle, we can all take a few words from Kama-Kama himself, and avoid being too reckless and forthright in the pursuit of SOLSA.

[interviewer] [translated] 'Do you still surf the train cars occasionally?'

Rafael de Flavio: [translated] "I don't think anyone should do it now, definitely not kids, it's very dangerous. But when you're young, you feel like...like you're invincible, and that the...the thrill, the passion of it is worth it...It isn't, there is more to life than simple things like that. Those only remind you that you are alive...and you need them every once in a while but not all the time. If you want to do that all the time become a racer like me. I get to do what I love, it's not about the credits or the fame. Do what you love and give back when you can. That's what it's all about <laughs>."

John Stossel: [voice-over] John Stossel, ABC News.

[fade to studio]

Hugh Downs: Fascinating story John.

John Stossel: Thank you.

Hugh Downs: We'll be back after this commercial break with more, 20/20.

End Transcript.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

18.

PTEKK International

CommSec Division Transcript

American Sector Transmitter 12-A

4/10/94

For official viewing only, with stamped and signed clearance of PTEKK Legal.

<Comm-Sec> 'Attention all stations and able-bodies, be advised: North American AEWC confirms multiple incoming bogies on heading 33.5 from outer earth region Sector 3-9. Incoming hostiles audible on signal bandwidth 4.25 for subsonic weapons tracking. Hostile position confirmed, coordinates southeasterly bearing -13.923404,-48.515625 over central Brazil and closing. Distance-vector routing protocols engaged on code frequency Zulu, Zulu, Tango, Alpha, Six, Alpha. All station leaders all station leaders report ready status.'

<NorAmeriComm> '4 out of 12 units reporting in with more coming online.

<EuroComm> '6 out of 8 sector units reporting in.'

<AfriComm> 'All units online and reporting in.'

<IndiaComm> 'All units online standing by.'

<SoAmeriComm> '7 out of 8 units reporting in.'

<Comm-Sec> 'Confirm station status ready. All stations and units be advised: hostile forces in pursuit of Kommissar5000 designation N3345-4A User ID: Kama-Kama. All SoAmeriComm units engage and intercept at coordinates -0.703107,-54.667969.'

<SoAmeriComm> 'Understood moving to intercept.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Comm-Sec this is Kommissar designation N3345-4A moving to coordinates 6.227934,-58.886719.'

<SoAmeriComm> 'Copy moving to location'

<Comm-Sec> 'Copy, All stations be advised: hostile forces en route to Cent-Comm location. All units move to intercept. All stations additional: Hostile forces identified as SOLSA, repeat, SOLSA forces engaging relative to Cent-Comm Sector at this time.'

<NorAmeriComm> '12 out of 12 units reporting in, we're movin'.'

<AfriComm> 'Sending 6 out of 12 units to engage hostiles at coordinates 6.227934,-58.886719.'

<EuroComm> '4 out of 8 units en route to assist.'

<IndiaComm> 'Comm-Sec, range on location is limited. Suggest defensive parameters to support inland forces.'

<Comm-Sec> 'Confirmed on directive IndiaComm, engage parameters according to defensive plan Alpha-4.'

<IndiaComm> 'Confirmed Comm-Sec.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Comm-Sec this is N3345-4A, PTEKK User ID Kama-Kama, I have been engaged by SOLSA forces in space during the Lovell Galactic 500. Hoon and Loppo are gone, Ott and the others broke from the lap circuit.(inaudible) They're still on me, I'm bringing them to you at 6.227934,-58.886719. They're all behind me all of them bring everything (explosion, inaudible)'

<Comm-Sec> 'N3345-4A, confirmed reinforcements rendezvousing at coordinates 6.227934,-58.886719.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Copy Comm-Sec. SoAmeriComm, Hinty you there?'

<SoAmeriComm: (Hinty) 'Copy Kama we're on our way you alright?'

<Kama-Kama> 'Change Unit Velocity to Northern Vector. Intercept at the same coordinates but do it from a higher altitude. Come in from behind them through this cloud cover, I'm gonna draw them down closer to the water at coordinates 8.885072,-58.930664, let's see if they take the bait.'

<Hinty> 'Copy Kama, SoAmeriComm, all units move to 8.885072,-58.930664 from high velocity, elevation of 4.25, let's let them pass right by us and come at em' from behind.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Comon' come and get it...(explosion)...come on....there, move in now!'

<Hinty> 'Copy, engaging.'

<Comm-Sec> 'All stations be advised: SoAmeriComm has engaged SOLSA forces over coordinates 9.18887,-60.029297, redirect forces to intercept.'

<NorAmeriComm> 'Rolling in now. Unit Leader 772 PTEKK User ID: Sporker awaiting targeting directives.'

<Kama-Kama> 'NorAmeriComm, (explosion) is that the real Sporker?'

<NorAmeriComm: (Sporker)> '<laughs> That's a firm Kama gimmie a directive.'

<Kama-Kama> 'I've got them all bunched up around the water I don't think they have any (inaudible) standing orders aside from pushing down, it might be a diversion, or a recon or something. (explosion)This doesn't seem like their full army, at least from the size of the spaceship like I saw out there so we've gotta be ready for anything. Keep comm chatter as low as possible, let's not give these guys ideas.'

<Sporker> 'Copy Kama just tell us what to do.'

<Maj. Jake Stern> 'Comm-Sec Command this is Maj. Stern of US Rapid Response, anything we can do to help?'

<Comm-Sec> 'Copy Major redirecting communication to unit commander.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Perfect timing Major, have your forces primarily defend against any stragglers from getting away from us, keep them as far from the shoreline as possible and if they stray close to Cent-Comm let the batteries take care of em.'

<Maj. Jake Stern> 'Copy Kama, huge fan by the way.'

<Kama-Kama> <laughs>(explosion) 'Thanks Major, good luck.'

<Sporker> 'Hey Kama (explosion) you might be right about this diversion thing these guys are droppin like flies. I dunno where they got their ships but they look a helluva lot like ours.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Understood Sporker, stay focused and kee-(explosion)'

<Sporker> 'Kama!'

<Hinty> 'Kama! Kama are you alright?'

<Kama-Kama> (inaudible) '..alright, I'm alright.'

<Hinty> 'Kama you're not in a Kommissar Fighter you're in a racer! You've gotta get out of there! You don't have weapons or a combat class shield you'll never make it!'

<Kama-Kama> 'Understood Hinty. Use our forces to keep them engaged over the water, let's not let them get on land.'

<Hinty> 'Copy'

<Kama-Kama> 'Sporker, move your units to intercept along to the south coast, make sure none of them even think of going to Rio.'

<Sporker> 'On it.'

<AfriComm> 'This is AfriComm Unit Leader 255 PTEKK User ID: Bin-gale, awaiting directives.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Bin-gale, deploy along the upper layer of Sector 3-10 with your units. Keep any runners from getting back to orbit (explosion)Also make sure that if we see more ships coming that we know in advance.'

<AfriComm:(Bin-gale)> 'Understood.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Comm-Sec, come in.'

<Comm-Sec> 'Receiving.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Inform PTEKK Military to be on high world alert. SOLSA incursion likely from multiple points of orbital entry. It's highly possible this engagement is a diversion.'

<Comm-Sec> 'Confirm, relaying message.'

<EuroComm> 'This is EuroComm units arriving as requested. Unit Leader 563 PTEKK User ID: Donkles awaiting orders.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Donkles use your units to reinforce our units around the coastline here, we're gonna try beating them back to orbit and let Bin-gale and his friends clean up.'

<EuroComm:(Donkles)> 'Moving to SoAmeriComm's unit position.'

<Hinty> 'Kama this is Hinty, get back to our HQ or to Cent-Comm and get yourself out of that racer! You shouldn't be out here it won't take a hit!'

<Kama-Kama> 'Hinty, stay focused. Bin-gale come in'

<Bin-gale> 'Copy Kama.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Any sightings from upper orbit?'

<Bin-gale> 'Cent-Comm sensors jammed at this altitude, switching to satellite...Showing one large ship in outer orbit, no trails imminent or noticeable from smaller craft, minimal power signals coming from the ship itself.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Copy keep me updated if that changes.'

<Bin-gale> 'Understood.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Major Stern come in.'

<Major Jake Stern> 'This is Stern go ahead Kama.'

<Kama-Kama> 'What is the status at Cent-Comm?'

<Major Jake Stern> 'Well guarded, the batteries themselves have taken down more than our missiles have. Won't say no to getting in on more of the action.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Copy Major, remain stationary for now I don't want to give them the opportunity.'

<Major Jake Stern> 'Understood.'

<Sporker> 'Kama come back.'

<Kama-Kama> 'Receiving, Sporker what's up?'

<Sporker> 'We had a small pack trying to head out across towards Rio like you thought they would, earned me 20000 credits for those kills thanks.'

<Kama-Kama> '<laughs> Not a problem Sporker.'

<Donkles> 'Kama come in.'

<Kama-Kama> 'This is Kama.'

<Donkles> 'It looks like the upper reinforcements that had been here are running back up to orbit to their ship. We have yet to pursue. Orders?'

<Kama-Kama> 'Alright this is what we've been waiting for. Major Stern remain stationary with your forces around Cent-Comm and help the batteries. Donkles, Hinty, pursue with your units. Bin-gale, you have SOLSA retreating upwards towards your location. EuroComm and SoAmeriComm forces in route as well, should be a big party in about 2 minutes.'

<Donkles, Hinty, Bin-gale> 'Copy.'

<Major Jake Stern> 'Understood.'

<Sporker> 'Where do you want us Kama?'

<Kama-Kama> 'Sporker you and your units maintain just in case we get pushed back or Cent-Comm gets ambushed.'

<Sporker> 'Aw ok. Understood.'

<Kama-Kama> 'I am in pursuit of what appears to be their fleet leader, I am marking him with subsonic tracking now.'

<Hinty> 'Kama. Kama look out! (explosion)'

<Kama-Kama>'(explosion, inaudible)...k I'm ok. My shield is totally gone now I had to fly through that one.'

<Hinty> 'Kama get back to Cent-Comm or our HQ and get a fighter now! I'll cover you I-watch it watch it! (explosion)

<Kama-Kama>'(inaudible)...(crackle)'

<Hinty> 'No! Kama! Kama!'

<Donkles> 'Oh god!'

<Hinty> 'No! Fuck! Kama! Raf come in!'

<Bin-gale> 'Comm-Sec come in, Kama is down repeat Kama is down. Comm-Sec also be advised: Orbital ship's power and velocity have increased and it is breaking sub-orbit.'

<Hinty> 'Mother fuckers! Raf! Raf!'

<Sporker> 'Comm-Sec I have no reading of Kama...nothing...'

<Hinty> 'Oh my god, oh my god.'

<Sporker> 'I'm not reading any of his wreckage what the fuck.'

<Hinty> 'Raf oh my god Raf (inaudible).'

<Rod Andrews> 'All units this is Comm-1. I am offering a 10 million credit bounty for the highest score against these fuckers. Everything, bring in all reserves, all backup units, your grandmother if she's certified to fly. Everything! Fuck I'll go out there! Gimmie a goddamn Kommissar I'll-(inaudible)'

<Comm-Sec> 'Received, new mission parameters including increased bounty. Priority objectives updated under User settings.'

<Bin-gale> 'Comm-Sec, Comm-1, all units, be advised: Massive increase in orbital ship power and closing distance to sub-orbit. Multiple bogies entering into upper orbit of Sector 3-10 at high velocity.'

<Hinty> 'Fuck the bounty, fuck the credits I'm gonna kill em all!'

<Donkles> 'Hinty wait! God dammit Hinty! Comm-Sec engaging SOLSA forces at coordinates -13.239945,-35.15625in Sector 3-10.'

<Hinty> 'Motherfuckers! (explosion)'

<Comm-Sec> 'Receiving, all available units, SOLSA forces engaged in sub-orbit of Sector 3-10 at coordinates -13.239945,-35.15625.'

<Bin-gale> 'All AfriComm forces proceed to coordinates -13.239945,-35.15625 Sector 3-10, multiple SOLSA forces engaged.'

<Hinty>(explosion) 'Die motherfuckers!(explosion)'

<Donkles> 'Hinty what the fuck slow down! EuroComm forces back up Hinty!'

<Hinty> 'Die mother fu-(inaudible)'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hinty?"

"Hinty? Mr. Lescar?"

'...Sorry I was in a daze.'

"It's ok, my name is Michelle, I can show you back now."

'Thank you.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PTEKK Intergalactic

EXP-INCAR Division

Black-Binder Station Log

6/3/94

CLASSIFIED

For official viewing only, with stamped and signed clearance of Matilda Terenstry.

Michelle: "Ladies and Gentlemen, Hinty."

<applause, whistling>

Gaffer: "Hinty, my man. Glad you took me up on this offer, welcome. This guy, right here, is what we should all be made of. 202 confirmed kill top-scorer right here."

Melded: "Pretty amazing dude, my name's, well, we only use our ID's here, just call me Melded, utility class. I noticed you signed on as Infantry, that's pretty bad ass."

Hinty: "Thanks, nice to meet you."

Gaffer: "Lemmie familiarize you with our staff here around our office here if you'll call it that <laughs>, As you can see individual pods with Komm-Bot terminals that we all use along with the larger wall size stat screen you see right there, so we can keep track of one another, screen watching if you want to call it that."

Hinty: "Cubicles?"

Gaffer: "Yeah."

Melded: "Yeah."

Hinty: "Oh I dunno guys I was told that we'd be-"

Gaffer: "No no no, don't worry about it you'll love it, lemmie introduce you to the rest of the crew and show you your terminal, this way. You met Michelle, she's not an operator just a receptionist to the main offices and in case you need a coffee or something. Over here is your terminal here's the rest of Black Binder, meet Gonzey, and Frewst, they're main infantry Komm-Bot class like me, Jaspra she's heavy weapons class, Yungarr is our shield tech and turret guy, and this is Mezger our admin class."

Hinty: "Nice to be working with you all."

Yungarr: "Pleasure's ours man, you...were...amazing. On E-Day? Like I know you hear it enough being high scorer and-"

Mezger: "Yungarr please."

Yungarr: "Sorry chief."

Mezger: "Don't mind him he's harmless. I'm Mezger I'm admin class so I generally run the operations and simulations around here.

Hinty: "Simulations?"

Mezger: "Yeah we do all sorts of scenarios, events and possible encounters involving Komm-Bots or Kommissars. Hurricanes, Floods, Tornado relief, we do all sorts of stuff that the National Guard or Relief Services would do. Our specific training as of late has been limited to short time live-fire incursions and riot suppression."

Hinty: "But I thought this was just intergalactic stuff, like in space with Kommissars?"

Gaffer: "We do simulations for the most part with Kommissars now, word from upstairs since...well what happened we've been grounded I guess you can say."

Mezger: "Only for the time being I'm assured from our department head Ms. Terenstry. Kommissars in general have been undergoing refinements and recalls, mainly since SOLSA themselves haven't been seen since their ship entered what she referred to as 'TransFlash.' Apparently that's what Rod the man himself calls it."

Melded: "Man TransFlash is gonna be crazy! Did you hear that we're gonna be doing Komm-Bot missions using that tech? We're gonna hit SOLSA at their own planet using their own shit against them! <laughs>"

Jaspra: "If it works."

Melded: "It'll work!"

Mezger: <laughs> "Alright everyone calm down, we'll continue the formalities later. Hinty glad to have you aboard, take a seat at your station over here, you ok with the placement towards the main screen?"

Hinty: "Yeah it's fine."

Mezger: "Awesome, get logged in onto your User account, do you want anything to drink or eat?"

Hinty: "No, I'm ok thanks."

Mezger: "Ok well if you need something, you'll notice the Comm system to your left. You can ring Michelle if you need anything simple. Food, Water, Beer, Phone call-"

Hinty: "Oh I can't use my Panel in here?"

Mezger: "<laughs> No no this is Black Binder we don't even exist, I'll take that and give it to Michelle. If you need to make a call then just use the Comm system alright?"

Hinty: "Yeah ok."

Mezger: "Great we're a little behind so I'll be right back and we'll start the briefing."

Jaspra: "Don't worry it's not as complex as what you are used to. You'll get the hang of it."

Gonzey: "Piece of cake compared to what you've done buddy."

Hinty: "If you say so, seems more complicated than I would have thought."

Jaspra: "(whisper)So...you actually saw SOLSA right?"

Hinty: "(whisper)No, not up close, but their ships look a lot like ours."

Jaspra: "(whisper)I know! There's been a rumor going around that...well I shouldn't really say this but people think Rod...Rod Andrews...is actually an alien. And that SOLSA took over his home planet and followed him here. What do you think?"

Hinty: "(whisper)Well-"

Jaspra: "(whisper)Shh, here comes Mez we'll talk later."

Hinty: "(whisper) Ok."

Mezger: "Alright people welcome back, hope you had a good Memorial Day some time off some beach maybe Frewst? You're lookin' bronze as hell there buddy. <laughs> I hope that time off didn't let you guys slack in your prep work. Today we've got a heavy with us that I hope you all got to talk with, Hinty, notorious Top Scorer and SOLSA scourge himself. If not, there'll be time later after today's sim."

Mezger: (Activates Wall Screen) "Eyes forward people. Our simulation today comes from the top. It's going to be more graphic and disturbing from what I'm told than most...(oooh's) Settle down now I know we're all fans of the simulations thus far but this one will be different. Whereas before we would compete as fake units against other Komm-Bot operators in standard units, today we're going live fire in a pre-determined environment. For those of you with a hard-on for the technical, this will also be one of the first initial tests of Komm-bot operations using the TransFlash system."

Melded: "I knew it! Fuck yes!"

Mezger: <laughs> "Alright settle down Melded, we're all excited too I'm sure. Today we'll be entering what was described in my briefing as a desolate wasteland. This wasteland in particular is another place within a separate dimension of time and space, locked and separated from our own by the ability of, TransFlash. The dimensions, size, and general habitation level of this wasteland world are yet to be determined by PTEKK in any way, aside from a single probe Komm-Bot which was sent in initially to gather information and ceased function as programmed upon its mission completion. So be aware, there is one Komm-Bot, but it's inactive so no points if you shoot it this time, ok? <laughs>.'

Mezger: For this simulation in particular, you will find that there have been advanced devices deposited which specifically mimic targets both in enemy appearance and effect of demise. These targets will work in sync with your neural connection systems that you normally utilize as operators. Hinty, this is the same as your Kommissar's, no different. This being a simulation, it will work in tandem with your neural system to relay information which will be analyzed later by PTEKK Intergalactic and PTEKK Medical. Things like heart rate, neural-electric activity, synapse activity, nervous system stability...and a whole lot of other words that basically mean, don't fuck up."

<laughs>

Mezger: "In all seriousness though people, this simulation in particular will set the precedent and standard of PTEKK's future Komm-Bot operations. This, coming on high from Ms. Terenstry and the board themselves. Myself and Gaffer were hand-picked to assemble the most ideal team to work as Komm-Bot operators in the most discretionary sense. Hinty in case you were wondering, we are to PTEKK for example, as the Black Berets are to the Marine Corps. We work in secret, and don't reveal information about ourselves to each other, or arise suspicion in our normal PTEKK assignments and daily life to that we do any more than meet here, in this room. That is a curse we all share, but a blessing for those who don't."

Mezger: "Now onto how this operation will go. As I mentioned this simulation will take place in a desolate wasteland with average arid terrain, that's desert if your name is Melded <laughs>, in a cave-like structure with large cavernous walls. From what our briefing illustrates, it will consist of a normal sweep and clear as you've all been adjusted to in previous Komm-Bot scenarios, but this will be different. In this scenario the simulators in question will be relaying images that, fair warning, are human in shape and size. Maybe they even look like real people, we don't know. Because we don't know what a SOLSA looks like, this simulation will determine the effect of Komm-Bot operator's ability to fire upon a perceived living target. That's why this is a surprise for all of us, to see how this will all work. Frewst, Gonzey, Gaffer, you'll be leading on point, Hinty stay close to them, you'll be covered on the higher plateau by Jaspra. Jaspra be sure to use more shells this time <laughs> last time we had enough for our own beach, so more of the same please Jaspra. Don't hold back this time either I know you were concerned with Infantry Komm-Bot shield tolerance but our numbers seem to show that they'll hold no matter the barrage you alone can deliver. Yungarr I want two turret systems here and here, one on the opposing plateau across from Jaspra to the Southeast, and one directly to the east to fire on any potential runners. Let's leave all corners of this terrain covered. Melded your place as usual is with Yungarr, make sure he knows a soldering iron from a hair dryer to keep us all alive <laughs>. I will be monitoring you as always and giving you additional directives as they come. Remember, like all Black Binder initiatives we are always under the watchful eye of Ms. Terenstry, everyone wave, to ensure proper handling on your parts as well as my own. Questions? Anyone? Hinty?"

Hinty: "Where are our Komm-Bots exactly? I figured I'd have to work on mine before we started."

Mezger: "Hinty you're big league now. Only techs do the shit work."

Hinty: "Well I just...didn't know where they came from, our Komm-Bots."

Mezger: "Oh, fair enough. Our Komm-bots in particular are kept in a separate warehouse that is merely funded for storage by PTEKK Intergalactic. Yours in particular was picked up and moved to the undisclosed storage facility pending your admission and approval into Black Binder. So your Komm-Bot is your own, but with the modifications necessary to TransFlash to the location of the simulation itself. No prep work, no bullshit needed."

Hinty: "Wow...almost takes the fun out of it doesn't it?"

Jaspra: "<laughs>"

Mezger: "Well we'll see how lively this sim gets you. Everyone set? Need anything before it starts?... Alright let's get this show on the road. Signaling Comm-2, Black Binder Unit Leader 454-B Clearance Pass entered in...now, awaiting confirmation."

Comm-2: "Clearance granted 454-B, PTEKK User ID: Mezger, beginning simulation."

Mezger: "Alright solid deployment, looks like you're all there...synching comm modes...perfect. Ok remember your positioning. Frewst, Gonzey take corners. Gaffer you take lead for a look, Hinty hold at 45 yards from Gaffer in the shadow. Jaspra you in position yet?"

Jaspra: "Almost there."

Mezger: "Ok, Yungarr how are those turrets looking?"

Yungarr: "Southeastern turret in position, moving to opposing cavern entrance for turret 2."

Mezger: "Perfect, doing great guys. Gaffer gimmie some info on targets."

Gaffer: "We have...five repeat five humanoids around a small campfire, accompanied by what appears to be one repeat one inactive Komm-Bot. Inactive Komm-Bot unit matches classification of initial probe's markings and designation. Its sensory units appear inactive, I do not see the sensory lights active or any power signal that would imply neural connection is active. It looks damaged actually, its collar-bone chassis looks...well broken, and it only has what appears to be one gun arm."

Mezger: "Are these humanoids armed?"

Gaffer: "It would appear not. Oh...wait there's one, looks like he just came back from a piss. We have one additional repeat, total of six, six humanoids not five. The pisser looks like he has a rifle, looks pre Electron Cell in design."

Mezger: "Hardly seems like a challenge. Jaspra you in position yet?"

Jaspra: "Copy."

Mezger: "Ok we'll wait on Yungarr's turret and then once we're cleared we'll begin assault."

Yungarr: "Alright secondary turret in position. Standing by."

Mezger: "Ok, Yungarr and Melded you stay back by turret two, Jaspra begin barrage on my command, Frewst, Gonzey, Hinty move up to Gaffer's position and relay when you're all there...ok every one hit the confirm if you're ready...on your right panel there Hinty...ok we have a confirm on all sectors and fronts, confirming now with Comm-2......

Comm-2: "Clearance granted 454-B, PTEKK User ID: Mezger, begin assault."

Mezger: 'Ok Comm-2 approved, infantry move in, Jaspra begin barrage, Yungarr activate turrets...Keep it clean...keep it clean guys."

Frewst: "<laughs> These fuckers look like humans but run like roaches! Woo that's one for me!"

Gonzey: "<laughs>"

Gaffer: "Boom! Got one!"

Frewst: "Hinty we've got a runner by the rocks. He ran around the corner get that fucker!"

Hinty: "Got e-...wait...wait what the fuck."

Frewst: "Comon' Jaspra more shelling! I'm still in one piece!"

Jaspra "<laughs>"

Hinty: "Guys...Guys..."

Gaffer: "Hinty what's up? Keep moving dude we've got these fuckers running behind corners and shit. Oh damn nice hit there Jaspra, he just exploded. <laughs>"

Gonzey: "Got one!<laughs>"

Hinty: "Guys I just shot Marcus Spivy."

Gaffer: "Huh?"

Frewst: "Who?"

Hinty: "This guy..."

Gaffer: "What do you mean this guy?"

Hinty: "This guy, he...he looked just like that guy. He was in the news remember? With the scandal?"

Frewst: "I don't watch the news."

Jaspra: "What's he talking about?"

Gaffer: "Who's Marcus Spivy?"

Mezger: "Hinty, what's goin on? Only one target remaining why aren't you moving with the ground team?"

Hinty: "Mezger, guys, I think I just shot a real person."

Jaspra: "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Frewst: "What the fuck is he talking about?"

Gonzey: "Boom! Last of em', fucker was shootin' at me'. 1000 credits for final kill puntas!"

Gaffer: "Dude you can't shoot a real person, this is a simulation remember?"

Jaspra: "Yea this is a simulation Hinty it just looks real."

Hinty: "Guys there is blood all over my fucking Komm-Bot's main sight receptor. That's not a fucking simulation, I just shot a real person, I just shot Marcus Spivy."

Mezger: "Alright team stay focused and look for additionals, (whispers) Hinty what the fuck are you talking about?"

Hinty: "(whispers) I was coming up with the other ground team, and I chased this short guy who ran, and he jumped into this wall and hurt himself and turned around and I blasted him, but I looked at him, it was this guy, remember in the news? The guy who tried to kill Rod Andrews? It was him! I just blew his fucking head off and his blood went all over my screen."

Mezger: "(whispers) Alright calm down, it's probably just you seeing the news story and the neural connection making it look like him... Look let's take a break, walk outside, square away this whole thing. Come with me buddy."

Hinty: "(whispers) What the fuck is going on here? That's not supposed to happen in a simulation with blood on my fucking screen."

Jaspra: "(whispers) Hinty, you're just freaked out by the simulation. It's ok, it's supposed to test you."

Mezger: "(whispers) Hinty, she's right, just come with me and get some fresh air ok?"

Hinty: "I want to know what the fuck just happened! Why did it even look like I killed a person with blood? That's not normal for any simulation I've seen! What's going on?"

Mezger: "Hinty, outside with me! The rest of you have your orders. Ground team, secure the perimeter. Melded, work on that Komm-bot probe to see if it picked up who those people were and what else it learned about that shithole! Everyone else stay put. Hinty, com'ere! Outside let's go!"

Jaspra: "(whispers) Is he ok? What the fuck was that about?"

Gonzey: "(whispers) First day jitters. Some people can't handle the sim I guess."

REMAINDER OF TRANSCRIPT SEALED

DESTROY UPON COMPLETION

For official viewing only, with stamped and signed clearance of Matilda Terenstry.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

19.

"All units this is Comm-1. I am offering a 10 million credit bounty for the highest score against these fuckers. Everything, bring in all reserves, all backup units, your grandmother if she's certified to fly. Everything! Fuck I'll go out there! Gimmie a goddamn Kommissar I'll-" I snatched the Panel from Rod's hand and switched it off.'

"Matilda what the hell are you doing?" It was pretty bold of me to just grab it away like that I'll admit, but he was acting irrational. He had come to my office at my division headquarters and I was not about to let him walk into that mess.'

'I looked at him long and hard, shaking my head. "You're not going out there." I said, "Not a chance."

"The hell I'm not!" he bellowed and walked to the door. He didn't have much of a chance since my office had two Komm-Bots on neural connection by the door. With a snap of my finger they had him locked down in place, pinned between their static shields. Not painfully, but enough that he was completely constricted. He looked like he could barely breathe through the two opposing shields pressing him together. I had no choice Diary2.0, force was necessary.'

"Are you going to behave now?" I said bluntly. He was literally bound between the two Komm-Bots that were responding to me through neural connection.'

'He muttered something, but I'm not sure what it was. I snapped my fingers, with both Komm-Bots reassigning themselves to the doorway, quacking then motionless. "What did you say again Rod?"

"Why did you do that? Why are you trying to stop me?"

'I just glared at him. "Rod if you go out there you're going to die."

"That is bullshit! There are plenty of other operators coming online even now. Reserves and the national militaries. We'll be reinforced in no time and will drive SOLSA off this planet for good. You're also forgetting that I've flown the Kommissar5000 before. And I've had piloting training before PTEKK even came along."

'I laughed. "I saw your infamous piloting footage, the same footage we had PTEKK Legal cover up. It's one thing to 'fly' a plane rod, but another thing to actually land it. You might have the heart of Kama, but you're nowhere near the skill of pilot that he was." I said. "That's not a judgment upon your character Rod, just your skill. You won't be able to survive out there because you're not as well trained. Even if we had a full compliment to defend you, you'd be an open target. If SOLSA knew who you were they'd-"

"They'd what? Kill me? Take me ransom?" he said hoarsely, "What difference would it make if they wanted to come at us in full force? What would it even matter?" He shook his head at this. He was so cavalier in his attitude, throwing caution to the wind. "I'm going out there. Kama was my friend it was my fault he died. I could have done way more to-"

"Rod! What are you talking about? Kama could have gone to Cent-Comm or to his home base to get a new ship. A fighter-craft, and not just some shell meant for racing. Instead of that, what did he do Rod? He stayed in his ship and coordinated the fight. He never wanted to lose a race, and he sure as hell didn't want to lose earth. He didn't even want to take a moment to think and it cost him his life. And now nobody else is thinking Rod. Look out up there. Look at the screen at what's going on. The credit bounty you offered was substantial, but look at who's winning. Hinty, Kama's best friend. He's not scoring on SOLSA for credits, he's doing it for revenge. Because he's enraged Rod. Because he's not thinking. Don't make the same mistake he is now."

"Hinty..." Rod whispered.

'I could tell he was upset, but who wasn't? Kama was more than just a sponsored racer to PTEKK or another set of eyes in R&D. But I couldn't let Rod lose himself over this. I put my hand on his shoulder as he stared at the chaos on my holo-screens near the window. He was rigid but I kept it there. "We've already lost three people today Rod, I'm not going to make you the fourth, fifth, or even a casualty at all if I can help it. I'll have that Komm-Bot lock you in a cell if I have to." I said to Komm-chirping. I never used real operators as my personal security, it was far easier for me to just utilize their neural connections. Rod was speechless as he stared out the glass over New York.'

"But, the attack, they're all-"

"Rod for your own safety we're getting out of this office. You're too important to walk into that firefight out there, but you're also too important to remain here, where SOLSA knows where we are. That's why you're going home."

"Home...why?"

"Yes Rod, your home. You remember? Formerly PTEKK International headquarters." He seemed almost delirious. I'm not sure if he expected SOLSA or not. I had to keep him out of the spotlight and out of trouble. If he managed to get away, even for an instant, he could wind up getting himself killed. PTEKK couldn't afford that. I couldn't afford it.'

"But...I don't understand why I can't just go out there." he moaned. His voice was still hoarse from him being pinched between the Komm-Bot's shields. I knew the forces they used were strong, but I didn't know they were that strong." (Make note for later Diary2.0 to investigate the possible uses for riot and crowd control.)'

"Rod. Look at me." I said. He did with those pale blue eyes of his. I couldn't help but be transfixed at first. "You're not safe here. This building was built for the company, but it wasn't built to keep you safe. Even with all the shielding systems and Komm-Bots we have protecting the building, if SOLSA knew that you were here, it wouldn't make a difference."

"But look at them up there on the screen. They're not even coordinated...I mean our guys are just running straight through them I coul-"

"You could let them do it. You could allow them to do their job, their work. You didn't sign up to be a Komm-Bot operator. You didn't sign up to fly a Kommissar into battle with some militia. You're supposed to be the figurehead of this company. The Grand Shaman, remember? The company that united humanity to want to fight for you, and for itself?" I could tell that my voice was starting to get higher but I made a point to not shout. "You aren't necessary out there Rod. Don't you see? They don't even need your credits or your approval, you've already given them that much and more. Don't you see that they can do this for themselves? You're not supposed to get killed like Kama, or even allow yourself to become like Hinty, blinded by your own rage. It's not supposed to happen that way Rod. It just, isn't."

'I could see he was starting to come around. Granted I wasn't as close to Kama as he was, but the markets that were opened up in South America as a result of Rod's interest alone made me respect him. I was finding it more and more difficult to get Rod to open up, and some Brazilian street rat out of nowhere managed to make him blossom with vitality. Just when I had gotten accustomed to handling PTEKK myself, Rod finally gets it into his head to start running his company. This was really frustrating to me Diary2.0, but I had to put it out of my mind. SOLSA attacking was bad enough for the planet, but if Rod Andrews were to die the same day, it would have created damage I could not circumvent.'

"Rod please, I'll program the Komm-Bots to escort you to the basement level. My limousine is waiting below to take you home, with a Police Kommissar escort. The fighting is well away from here and most people have been told to stay indoors where it's safe. Shielding grids have been active since the attack was first detected in every city we have operations in. Please Rod, go back to your home. Go home where it's safe. I'll manage things here." I tried to say as softly as I could. He was a wreck over Kama, even more than I would have expected. I guess since Rod didn't really have a brother or any siblings growing up, he had become kind of fond of him.'

"I guess..."

"Yes?"

"I guess...I have no choice..." he stammered.'

'I didn't know what to say, but I tried. "Rod...you do have a choice. But you can live tomorrow for something, or die today for nothing. Even Kama wouldn't have wanted you to die in vain. Think about it."

'He began to say something, trying to formulate some excuse. "Think about it...go home Rod. It's the best for everyone. All of us."

'He lips stopped, and his spirit was clearly sunk. I know that now in retrospect. Still, I didn't need his potential demise to make things worse than they already were. He walked out without saying goodbye, my two Komm-bots in tow on the building's security grid's force. I was worried about him, but I had work to do.'

(Note, We haven't lost a single Kommissar yet thank god, but we also haven't seen a major SOLSA strike aside from their two initial attacks. Their ship had been hanging in low orbit until now. According to the readings I have from Cent-Comm at this time, they have moved to a high polar orbit to elude our forces and main batteries. Cent-Comm has also confirmed that the fighter the initially damaged Kama-Kama's craft, was destroyed by SoAmeriComm Unit 221 PTEKK User ID: Hinty with an additional twenty-thousand credits per kill, with a grand total of 202 kills, the highest of the day. Remember to stamp approval for credit delivery to User account via PTEKK Billing. Make note for later Diary2.0, tag Hinty for possible Black Binder recruitment.)

(In addition Diary2.0 I'd like to make note of the newest innovation from Rod, known as TransFlash the technology he, according to himself, reverse engineered from observing SOLSA activity, which was corroborated by Dr. Winkler and the evidence from his detection grid. Regardless of how he came up with it, this technology, the ability to travel between dimensions creates a whole new potential market for commodity and terrestrial development at the disposal of PTEKK itself. An experiment with an autonomous Komm-Bot revealed a terrestrial universe in our first attempt, barren aside from light vegetation. The development of this technology for human usage is essential to PTEKK development in the future using this technology, and human subjects would set the stage for analysis. I'll get in touch with the White House tomorrow and see if I can get in touch with the Justice Department via our Experimental Incarceration Project. This might be a good way to get rid of M.S. and R.J. once and for all. I can only hope.)

Excerpt

Diary2.0 of Matilda Terenstry

4/10/94

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'I remember feeling tired the minute I slumped into the back of the limo. It jetted off from the under garage of the Chrysler Building and up into the street, and into the afternoon sky amidst the hum of the Police Kommissar flight-cade. PTEKK Intergalactic's HQ wasn't far from my home, especially by flight. Still Diary3.0, I knew Matilda had my best interests at heart. I have to believe that, even now.'

'As we climbed through the clouds briefly, I remember feeling listless, tired. I thought at first it was as the result of the atmospheric changes, but I was also exhausted, and still reeling over Kama. It had been a long time since someone had coaxed good feelings from me Diary3.0. I had spent the time before that unable to differentiate between what my work consisted of, and just knowing that normal people like I had been still existed. Kama reminded me that the future is bright, even if it's a single star in the sky. I was still mulling this over when I closed my eyes and fell asleep.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'I awakened in the classroom, again. The bent chalkboard, the egg shaped oval room. "Rod?" a familiar voice said. It was the Doctor, Rod Bandever himself, with his hand on my shoulder. I was sitting on the stage now, with him standing beside me, where I had been before. "Glad to have you back with us, hope your hand is better now. My apologies fellow Rodd-iites, time, space, and dreams themselves all have their own special orbits, which require their own measurement and attunement thereof. A moment please and you will find that I've almost finished..." he said, moving back to the podium and retracing his words. This was the dream I had when I got fired from McDonald's. Before PTEKK even began. I was almost too taken aback to speak when he continued.'

"Today we all begin anew, blossoms of a new era, wielding a new understanding, baptized if you will, from the transcending of time, space, and the dimensions in between. Today, we acknowledge a bridge between our worlds, and ourselves. With the technology at our disposal within 285's universe, we shall form such a connection, a bridge, that surpasses even perceived human senses, but remains as structurally sound as one founded in any of our tangible realities. One which will remain strong and steadfast, if the willingness to keep such a crossing remains as such."

"I believe in you all gentlemen, by belief I mean by both my own thought and feeling, that you all exist. That you all share a consciousness, our consciousness, in a manner previously unexplained, or perhaps simply forgotten for the creature comforts or constant conflicts our worlds have to offer. I must take my leave of you all for the moment unfortunately, as I must make preparations for our future endeavors. I will leave the podium now to our inducted leader and confidant, our spokesman and figurehead, Mr. Rod Andrews, or as you now know him, Rod-285!"

'There was an ovation from all the Rod's of many worlds, all smiling awaiting my words. I turned in the seat to see the Doctor smile and disappear in a blue flash. The moment after he had, through the din of the Rodd-iites approval, I blinked, and awakened to the drum of Leonard's hand on the window, followed by the limousine door next to me venting open.'

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"We're here Mr. Andrews. PTEKK International HQ. You're safe now." said Leonard smiling, offering me a hand out.'

'I waved him off, and strode over the curb. The old neighborhood was deserted, and our flashing motorcade was the only traffic on the road below, or the skyways above. The flutter of curtains in a few of the windows showed that some of my neighbors were still alive. But to look across the city you'd hardly have noticed. My steps to the landing echoed over distant air raid sirens. Governments across earth had imposed curfews because of the SOLSA attack, and I knew at any moment Matilda would have been preparing an additional force to combat them in orbit. Or strengthening earth's defenses in some way. She had become powerful enough to wield a power all her own, becoming the contrast to my reckless and reclusive behavior. Being the staunch businesswoman she was, she was more than capable of running PTEKK without me. Even when an enemy like SOLSA hung in orbit. In retrospect, it had made me feel less vital and more powerless than I had wanted, now that I had accepted my role at PTEKK as an innovator. Even if it was bullshit. I made it through the tenant building still reeling from my lucid dream, with a nodding Leonard hopping back into the limousine and whisking off with the motorcade flashing and blipping around the corner.'

'I climbed the staircase up to our hallway, to see light emanating from underneath our door. PTEKK Legal, or 3-14 as I knew it, was now vacant. Herb 'Wolf-man' Walker had been remanded to a special 'rehabilitation' facility funded by PTEKK Medical. Matilda had assured me earlier when I had first come by her office, that he had gone willingly, and that he was receiving the best possible care with the best treatment at our disposal. The only reason I had even gone to see her was over this, and for the general update of PTEKK Intergalactic's actions and plans. We hadn't even started talking about that when SOLSA came out of the woodwork. I jiggled on the handle, and it was unlocked. I walked inside and instantly was thrown into the table by someone waiting behind the door. I turned about in the low light, to see two thugs in suits, and a silhouette in the corner sitting where the Doctor normally had.'

"Mr. Andrews. Pleasure to meet you." the figure leaned into the light, revealing a face that I only knew from the board's communiqués and press footage. "We haven't had the pleasure. My name is-"

"Ren Jameston..." I muttered. He smirked under a pencil-thin mustache and steel grey lidless eyes. He arose from the day-glo sofa, clasping his suit jacket together and walked to the dinette. "Please sit, you'll find that although I have a reputation for being direct you'll hardly find me the type to exert force to gain authority."

'I felt myself being grasped and trying to wriggle away, only to be slammed on the chair across from Jameston by his two gorillas. "That's what they're for." he said grinning. He took a seat under the kitchen light, which I had noticed was the only one on. The orange curtains were drawn and the bathroom and the rest of the apartment was clad in darkness. I didn't know where the Doctor was but I also knew I couldn't be concerned too openly. Jameston looked about, at first I thought because I had been looking for the Doctor. But his mind thankfully, was elsewhere. "Jesus Christ. What a dump." he said, with his goons grunting. "I mean really Rod, may I call you Rod?"

"No, and how did you-"

"Bail bonds Rod, at least for myself being that the charges levied against me were waived. Marcus has yet to plead but because his name was tarnished more than my own, the judge looked favorably upon my release. And these two gentlemen are what you'd call, well, disgruntled former PTEKK Military employees. Now Rod, you are...an interesting man. And by interesting of course I mean eccentric. People can be interested in whatever you wag in front of em'. Sex, drugs, booze, money." he laughed, "The existence of people, from what I've seen in my work, is, perpetual motion. You're a scientist right? I mean you're the big brain of PTEKK, I shouldn't have to tell you this type of shit. Now, perpetual motion, requires....any guesses?" he asked.'

"Energy?" I took a wild guess.'

"Close." he said looking at his goons. One of them smacked me across the back of the head, much to Ren's dismay. "Easy, easy, nothing around the vital regions, only things that will sting, not show bruises. Not the head especially. You've got too valuable of a brain to let us just, whack it around...even though we'd like to. But like I said, you were close." he said, drawing out a cigarette and lighting it. "I'm sorry may I smoke?"

"No an-"

"Rod, the mechanism to which I'm referring, perpetual motion, requires more than simply energy. It requires work. Now, I know what you're thinking...that it's the same thing...not at all Rod...not at all." he said ending with a deep drag. He exhaled, continuing, "Energy, can be produced at minimal effort. Work, on the other hand, requires toiling, striving, with a goal or future in mind. Eye on the prize so to speak. History favors such people. I'm a fan of the old Greek tales of perseverance. It illustrated to me, and I don't mean to talk down to such an, eccentric man, that the true energy, is one that fuses the notion of work and energy. A coupling, much as it was designed and understood by science, am I correct?"

'I was no scientist, but I made the impression I was. I simply shrugged.'

'He went on, this time rising and walking towards the darkened kitchen. "Well, in our world today, people do not fuse these two notions together. There is no worker in the world, that strives for energy. That strives for the feeling it brings. And that is the way we have made it. And that is the way it will be. And you do know why that is?"

'Again, I shrugged.'

"Because it is predictable. It is understood. It is a system of exertion, that requires no work on our parts, and only a slight increase of energy. Our energy, is what compels the work of the world. Without it, man wouldn't strive for things to be better. It was a dream to my friend, you knew him as Marcus Spivy. A memory he claimed, that he had shared through a separate existence. A world that paralleled our own, but yielded the fruits of victory immediately as opposed to through work or patience. He sought to do that here, especially upon your entrance into the fray of business. That we could ascertain the methods to control and break them down to a better dynamic. 'A system, to end all systems' he called it. For us creature comforts were merely an inkling, whereas it would be our main method to steer a society to our own liking. Tangible comforts, all provided by us of course. A better house, a better car, a younger girlfriend perhaps. Do you have a girlfriend Rod?"

"Well no I-"

"Rod...let just explain something to you. Marcus, my friend, Marcus Spivy, went through great lengths to-"

"Enough!" I shouted, now standing. I was close to billowing over but I didn't want to give Jameston the satisfaction. This surprised him, now blowing smoke around my sink. His two goons were about to shove me back down when he raised his hand. They abated and he motioned me to sit. I didn't.'

"Marcus Spivy, and you, conspired to kill me and Herbert Walker! You were planning to ouster me and take control of the company!"

"That's not true Rod!" he bellowed looming forward. "I know it's not true. I have proof that it's not true. Proof that the board was complicit in the orchestrated arrest of Marcus Spivy. Proof that his name had been added to sealed PTEKK Legal documents, and that video evidence had been doctored." he gazed at my reaction. He must have known at that point that I was just as oblivious to Matilda and the Doctor's plans as it was. Or at least had some inkling if he had been Spivy's left hand. I could see he had tried rationalizing like Spivy at the beginning, in a language I could not speak, at least not yet. The idea of mass control was in its infancy in regards to my own understanding, embarrassing enough that I wielded power without it, but it's clear that people like Spivy and Jameston had thought of little else throughout their lives. It showed in his stature as he approached the dinette, sitting while I still stood in his guard's shadows.'

"I have the proof Mr. Andrews. You can sit or stand, but I'll be honest when I say I avoid eloquence because it's the only thing that masks chicken shit." he said, extinguishing his cigarette into one of the boomerangs, and reaching into his breast pocket. It was too small for a gun, and I was even more relieved when he revealed the Panel, and slid it over to me. "Open it. Page one." he said, burning with a downward gaze. I pinched the corners and widened the Panel, showing a log involving many different things that PTEKK Intergalactic had been experimenting on.'

"What is all this?" I asked.'

"You tell me." he said. "It's you- excuse me, was your company. I think you'd know or at least like to know what she's been up to. Matilda Terenstry of course." I looked down at the information and saw for the first time many PTEKK innovations, I hadn't seen before. Electro-Pheromone Displacement for example. Later on Diary3.0 I would find that this was the predicate for nerve and mind control from PTEKK Medical. Leaping beyond a step of basic SSRI's and conventional psychology, it was the goal of this technology to not only lack the capacity for negative thoughts, but for people to display an extroverted and 'happy' demeanor. This is the result of the severing of certain microscopic series of nerves within a person's hypothalamus, and can be in the form of an injection, a pill, or even delivered as a laser into the eye's visual cortex to remove the potential of seeing such negativity in actuality. The feeling of something happening would be overwhelmed by what the person would see, which would probably be nothing or an alteration of what occurred created by their subconscious chemically as a result. From what I was reading, Matilda was treading into unsafe waters, and dragging PTEKK and earth with it. At least that's what it looked like at the time.'

"What am I reading here Jameston?"

'He glared at me. "Isn't it obvious to you? Or did you hand over the your entire company lock and key to that woman too?"

'Now, at the time Diary3.0, I really didn't know if Matilda was deceiving me. Or if she was in collusion with the Doctor regarding more than I knew. But evidence like this, even the suggestion of it, would make PTEKK fall apart at the seams. But I knew Spivy and Jameston, even through basic portfolio research, that they were always in it for themselves. Matilda was right about that much.'

"So, you weren't trying to kill me? Or Herbert Walker? What about my bodyguards you killed outside the board meeting?"

"Those bodyguards of yours were appointed to you by Matilda Terenstry herself. They opened fire initially on Justice Department agents and your own PTEKK Military officials." I didn't know how credible that was, even now. Neither of my former bodyguards were alive to tell their tales. "Marcus originally believed that you were working in collaboration with the board, and were moving to increase the weapons output for rebels in Botswana. Marcus had friends in commodities across the board, and PTEKK's interference in the region, cost many their jobs, and many of our friends their lives. And yes I know, those who lost their jobs were employed later by your company. Fine. But you don't seem to realize that you just took away everything we had worked for, and gave it to someone who only wanted things for themselves Rod. Only wanted to take for themselves. Someone like Matilda Terenstry. Think about that."

'At this point I knew that Matilda had plans of her own, or at least was working on something that I didn't know about. This data on the Panel that Jameston had proved it to. "I don't understand. How did you get this?"

"Let's just say that there are elements within PTEKK that were friendlier to Marcus Spivy than to the other board members. And would like to continue to be."

"What are you saying?"

'He rose, crossing past the kitchen towards his grunts and me. "You will approach the Justice Department, and you will tell them that you lied under oath out of fear. You will also tell them that Matilda Terenstry and the board members of PTEKK orchestrated the ouster of Marcus Spivy, and allowed the sales of weapons to African rebels."

"I'll what?"

"You heard me Rod!" he shouted stepping closer out of the shadows. "I don't think you're smart enough, or I should say clever enough to maneuver this at all. Or as elegantly. Marcus's arrest wasn't simply a whistleblower or even based upon sound evidence. Your part, in my eyes anyway at PTEKK, is obvious. You're the idea man, the man with the plan, you don't call the shots. It's more than obvious to me now that you're just as much a pawn of Terenstry as Marcus and I were. And that's why you'll help me. Help us, Marcus and I."

"So you weren't trying to kill me?"

"No sir. You're more valuable to, well frankly everyone, alive."

"What about Herbert Walker then?"

'He circled the table as he found the words. "His life isn't his own. I'm no expert Rod, not in psychology or in science. Other than the science of people. All of my methods, my limited exertions of energy and influence, couldn't remold the damage to that man. I'm not sure how you were able to get through to him Rod, but the man is a maniac. Though I'm sure you were aware. I looked at his file long ago, being the head of PTEKK Security it was my job to know our employees and their culpability into actions against the interests of the company itself. Our interests Rod. One of the few actions of Matilda Terenstry I agree with was the removal of Herbert Walker from PTEKK Legal. A grown man Rod, an alcoholic who experienced a massive psychological breakdown during a trial years ago, shouldn't be the head of a legal department. Anywhere. Especially PTEKK, a company which now re-shapes the world we live on daily. Regardless, his consistent delusions regarding a little girl and a one-eyed dog were enough to make him completely irrational before I arrived with the officers and the warrant. When provoked by the Justice Department, he was remanded into police custody for interrogation. I was present for it Rod, and I did my best to be as curt as I am with you, minus the additional help of course." he said, gazing at the suited statues behind me. "But regardless of his assistance, we had the documents we needed with the help of the government, and even if he was half the attorney you think he was, he needs some form of medical treatment Rod. Even I'm not malevolent enough to deny a man understanding or the quest for a peace, of any kind, but not when dollars are at stake."

"It wasn't necessary at the time." he went on, still smoking. "Marcus was sure that the charges against Terenstry, the board, and even you were assured. A slam dunk. The sealed documents seized from PTEKK Legal and Mr. Walker more than likely showed Terenstry acted alone, or forged Marcus's signature. I just don't know how she manipulated the cameras. I couldn't testify against my friend, but I can tell you with certainty, that there's no reason why he would be complicit to a revolution in Botswana. We had spent many years appealing to that government, and we had mineral and export rights via Carlyle long before PTEKK was even a thought in your head, with that goddamn scooter of yours. Why would we throw caution to the wind when we already controlled the wind itself in that shithole? It made no sense for Marcus to do it, or to be complicit with it, and..." he leaned in closer, "There are people in government who know this. Who knew Marcus and knew that he wasn't that stupid. He may have made a lot of enemies like Terenstry, but after a career like his and the effort on his part as long as I've known him, I had yet to see him make a mistake. Not one like this. That's how I knew these charges, the weapons, all of it, was bullshit."

'He knew far more than I expected, but he still didn't know my involvement. He thought I was a puppet like him and Spivy, and that turning the cards over for me would somehow change my perspective. But he didn't know about the Doctor, or the Rodd-iites, or anything really significant. I had more faith in the abilities of the Doctor as of late than of Matilda, even if she did more of the work in the open. Still, the fact that Jameston or Spivy was onto the Doctor made it even easier to play dumb. It wasn't hard for me to do then. Frankly I don't think it ever was, even now.'

"You have the choice here Rod, we have the evidence at our disposal to shake PTEKK into crumbling if we see fit. We may not have proof of your direct involvement into the dealings that Terenstry clearly covered up. But that doesn't mean we won't take you down with her, or that she won't try to take you down anyway. This is business Rod, not science. Science is logical, not emotional. Matilda Terenstry's reasons for singling out Marcus Spivy are personal, and not reflective of PTEKK. Even Marcus knows that. It's why we would rather see you take back control of your company Rod. With us guiding you. You can't trust Matilda Terenstry, and you can't trust us. Would you prefer an honest enemy, or one that masquerades as a friend? Or lover?" he said, smirking and testy.'

'Now, I was having my doubts. Jameston was pretty convincing even if he didn't have all the details. Even the part about Matilda. I can't deny Diary3.0, when she kissed my hand in the limousine after speeding away, my heart was already racing. The timing of it, and the way she looked at me. But that's as far as it ever went, if only. If she was truly deceiving me, she was as professional at that as she was at business. She was capable of running circles around Spivy and Jameston, and they didn't like it. But I was the wild card. Ms. Terenstry's 'Grand Shaman'. Even Spivy didn't want me dead, or Jameston for that matter, I was too important. Well, the ideas were, and wherever they were coming from was. Even while I was mulling over all this and Matilda with it, Jameston was still staring me down. He put out another cigarette on the same burned boomerang, and walked to the door with his thugs in tow.'

"Remember what I said and think about it. Also think about this Rod: I called you interesting, and people can be interested in interesting things. But I also called you eccentric, which is a word we've reserved for people who rock the boat, or ripple the water noticeably with interests contrary to our own. Keep the panel Rod, I've got more with the same information on it and we'll wait for your answer. We want you on our side, or we simply would have dropped you off the planet like any other problem we've had before. But we won't wait for long. Good day sir." he said nodding, and gripped the door open and shuffled out with his muscle into the hallway and out into the street. They had closed the door behind them, but I couldn't move.

'I was in a serious quandary now, coupled with the loss of one of my friends in an alien attack. I was still convinced I had lured SOLSA back to earth as well, and I wasn't alone in that thinking. It's for that reason alone I knew I could trust Matilda. How could I not? She had quashed any questions regarding my involvement with SOLSA aside from revealing they exist. She also protected me from Jameston and Spivy, even if I was just a lucky charm, a talisman of business might and ingenuity. Needless to say, my thoughts were interrupted again, this time by a familiar voice I knew all too well.'

"Well, that was certainly interesting."

'I turned towards the bathroom just in time to see the Doctor himself deactivate his Phasic mode on his bracelet, his personal Komm-bot assistant appearing next to him almost in unison. I felt immediately relieved knowing that he was safe, and that he had seen Jameston and two of our former employees threaten me to testify. "Please tell me you heard him say all that." I begged.'

'The Doctor, smiled crookedly. "Of course, and it was all recorded. The irony of course is that it's also been recorded on the very Panel that he slid to you. Jameston may be good at the science of people as he said, but he's awful at the science of reading the manual for the technology he uses. That very Panel he handed you also has the names and identities of complicit Justice Department officials and PTEKK employees. Not that I or Ms. Terenstry really needed the list, but it will aid any formal investigation. While he's smart enough to determine the lack of Spivy's actions in all we've done, he certainly can't prevent what will happen next as the result.'

"What happens next?"

"The final plans that I had delivered last week via PTEKK Legal. It's difficult to leave this office resembling you, so I had to clandestinely 'drop' the documents themselves off at their main desk. Be sure to know that I did so resembling a courier who works for PTEKK Intergalactic, one of the same people Jameston has persuaded to join himself and Spivy's campaign to remove Matilda Terenstry and the board from power."

'He was clearly further ahead than I had even thought in terms of planning. Then again he always was. "So you've known, this whole time that they've been planning this?" I whispered, still clamped to the dinette chair from our visitors' impact. "You knew about what she's planning with mind-control and taking control of people on my earth? Here?"

'The Doctor clucked his tongue at me. He had a habit of doing that whenever I asked a question that lacked depth in his eyes. "Rod that technology is common even in my universe. It had been for generations before I was born, and was one of the few remaining artifacts remaining from what you'd know as the Nazi regime. It was a pipedream here for people like Jameston and Spivy. Admittedly, even people like Matilda Terenstry. You heard Jameston rant on about a controlled economic dynamic and system, well that too is common in my universe. Such inventions, Electro-Pheromone Displacement as you have come to understand it, works perfectly in tandem with systems that remove independent thought. Fluctuations as you know Spivy referred to it. I think it's a suitable term frankly, as horrid as it sounds to learn anything from that man. Still, It had a detrimental effect on my world Rod, spawning the overtly logical and maddening universe I came from. All as the result of not knowing better."

"Well, if you knew it was detrimental, then why would you allow it to be made here?"

'He looked at me, concerned, then smiled. "You must have had some inkling that our actions themselves would not limit us here."

"Inkling?"

"Your dreams for example?" he asked smiling wide now.'

"My dreams, I- I don't understand."

"It's understandable that my, well, theory regarding this is equally as taxing on the mind, even for myself." he said. That was an understatement by the way. Knowing what I do now, brings it all into a simpler perspective. And, this topic may have been incredibly complex, but there was no other mind that I trusted to at least attempt to understand it than the Doctor. Even now. This Diary3.0, was also probably because I didn't know many people anyway. He sat down at the dinette across from me where Jameston had been, and blew the ashes off the scorched table, placing his own Panel and dragging the frame wider.'

"Remember our discussion before? When I had asked you to tell me everything you remembered about the Rodd-iite Brotherhood and your trip to space, and how your witnessed their battle inspiring 'our' innovation TransFlash?"

"Of course, which reminds me I-"

"Please allow me to finish: I've only recently managed to correlate some of the information I had ascertained, with the help of PTEKK's various divisions of course. We had determined that my introduction into your universe from my own sparked this causality. The fact that ships of our own design would be doing battle, utilizing TransFlash that I, we, hadn't created yet, is astonishing enough. But the Rodd-iite Brotherhood, I had no explanation for aside from the fracturing prismatic effect if you will, of my arrival. If SOLSA possesses the capacity to traverse between dimensions, it must then mean that other Rods, the Rodd-iites themselves were more than likely doing battle with them as well!"

"That Rod-662, the Zulu-esque tribesman speaker you referred to from your dream!" he said laughing. "It's incredible really that aspect of us would even exist! But in all candor Rod, if his world truly has been attacked by SOLSA, and your dream reflected that, then clearly there is a way to find the world which he is from. In addition, it is also likely to find the universe where SOLSA calls home, so we ourselves can undo the damage I've done." he added somberly.'

'I had to interrupt. "Listen please. I had another dream about the Rodd-iites. But it was different. It was like...it was a bridge between two of the other dreams. Like it had been split into parts. Does that make any sense to you?" I went on in detail regarding which two Rodd-iite dreams I meant, and he attentively dabbled things on his Panel. Finally he shook his head.'

"It makes no sense whatsoever. Which is why we must understand it. If this, Rod-662 as you call him is under attack in his own universe by SOLSA, then they are not limited in own universe, or even our time. Further, it would seem that any innovation we have made here, as the result of my introduction, has altered SOLSA's role in the future itself. But how?" he trailed off.'

'I had started to think more and more like the Doctor, so I tried my best to help. "What if there was a way to contact the other Rods I saw in my dream? Aside from the dream itself?"

'He leaned back in interest. "You mean with TransFlash of course. And potentially our spaceship, Kommissar5000's, Komm-bots."

"Well yes I- wait, you mean we already have one of those spaceships?"

'The Doctor's expression was wooden and stern. "I had already authorized PTEKK Intergalactic through Mr. Walker of course, to begin development and construction, originally as a Black Binder assignment, long before your introduction to the Justice Department, or before Marcus Spivy and Ren Jameston had begun their silent ascension. PTEKK's patent of the ship itself, and its eventual construction were not planned to be anything more than, well, one of our 'normal' product releases."

"But...we have a real spaceship? Like as big as the ones I saw?" I asked. This was still an incredible concept to me, even now Diary3.0.'

'He nodded. "It's currently in various pieces awaiting instructions via PTEKK Legal to be delivered to orbital space at a moment's notice. As the result of the siege, I have shut down all the facilities affiliated with the ship's construction so as not to spark SOLSA interest. We haven't still a modicum of information regarding what systems they have at their disposal, working or not. I for one, am completely uncertain as to what technologies of ours that we create here that they will have on board. One of the most stupefying aspects of this conflict Rod, to defeat this enemy, is to create weapons that we can control, but also hinder them thereof, at least when they're controlled by SOLSA in the future. Without knowing the specifics of whatever upcoming event we have, I haven't the foggiest as how to even hypothetically tabulate the necessary outcome based upon the preliminary needs."

'I was still curious about his newspaper. "So, what about your newspaper? Can't that tell you anything like it seemed to before?"

'He put his hand in his coat pocket, evident that he wanted to ensure it was still there. "It may as well be in Sanskrit for the smaller details Rod. It has vague references to things that have already happened, nothing more that I can understand. To show it to you would illustrate nothing, and would complicate matters only further than they are now."

"Well didn't you say yourself that something beyond understanding was something that needed to be known for that reason alone?"

'He glared at me, then smiled, softening from oak to balsa. "I noticed that you've been working on your thinking. It shows." he said, wriggling the plastic-encased newspaper fold from his pocket. It was the same crossword page that he had obtained from Mr. Walker's doorstep at 3-14, long before it had become PTEKK Legal. He flapped it onto the table over his Panel, revealing to me the first time what it actually had written on it. Nothing. The puzzle looked almost completely blank, aside from some circles and writing in pen. Realizing his error, he gasped, quickly picked the paper up so its puzzle side was un-viewable to me."

"While I am reluctant to openly reveal this to you, you may have noticed that, it's incomplete. I am a fan of puzzles Rod, but this one is too complicated even for me. The majority of these corresponding numbers make no sense to me unfortunately." he said, looking at the folded plastic-wrapped paper. "It's a code, or something that I have yet to experience. Numbers, certain clustered circled together like 285, 859, 725, 553, 662...662?!" he screamed jumping up. "662...was the name of the speaker in your dream right? Rod 662?"

'This was the first time I felt a bridge, a connection between myself and the Doctor. He may have been me, but we had been so radically different in personas, until this moment. He was leaping about now, almost skipping, with his Komm-bot still looking on and me wide-eyed in astonishment.

"Rod do you know what this means?" he screamed, clearly giddy. "It means that this connection, this paper that I found the first day of my arrival, it's brought us to this point, this moment, here and now! I have no recollection to the Rodd-iites, but this is the connection! This ties your dreams and mine together! The circumstance of our meeting and my arrival and discovery of this, this...codex I guess you could call it!" he laughed "Even if it's the comics section!"

'I was still curious, hell I even am now Diary3.0. "What compelled you to even pick it up? Like why did you even bother to read it or snatch it off Herb's doorstep?"

'He paused, his mustache twitching. "Well in my universe it's something I customarily do. Not steal the newspaper I mean, but read one. And normally you're right, I wouldn't simply take one that wasn't mine. But something...sparked I guess you could say. I guess I overlooked it at the time because it seemed...well..."

"Seemed...?"

"Seemed too illogical I guess. I'm afraid that I'm only still a student of this universe's laws, as even mine appear to be too incomplete to process the simple nuances of what worlds like yours, and others will potentially offer. The filters if you'd call them that, of my universe, still prevail over most of my thinking and methods of processing information here. I'm afraid I'm pre-programmed by my own world's understanding and even belief." he said. He had clearly been wracking him brain over the subject, and the SOLSA siege hadn't made things easier. But it had put things into perspective for both of us. For me, I wanted to avenge the deaths of the people of my world, though few, one was an inspirational friend, when I needed one the most.'

"So what is your suggestion to fix all this? Based upon what we know now?"

'He bit his lip gazing back and forth between the Panel and the newspaper. "My first course of action is to assign Matilda Terenstry to recover any of the wreckage found from the SOLSA ships."

"What will that prove?"

'His eyes widened slightly. "Where they've been specifically." he arose now, putting the panel and the newspaper back into his pocket and walking to the window. The streets were still deserted, and the battle far off, but he still peered through the curtains near his day-glo throne, to see if anything had changed. "If they have actually been to Rod 662's world, as well as others within the Rodd-iite Brotherhood, then it may show it on their crafts, and show us how to get there using TransFlash." he smiled, glazed in the glow from the outside. "If their technology is the same as ours, we can use it to go to the same places they had. Unite with the Rodd-iites from your dreams, and crush SOLSA for the good of all our worlds."

'I don't know why I had asked it then, but something inside me spurred me to do it. "Did your world ever have to deal with SOLSA?"

'His gaze widened again, this time ending with a scowl. "Not at all in fact. My world's introduction alone is a complexity that I cannot begin to describe with words. In time Rod, you will know all I know. I can only hope I can give you enough before it's too late."

"So what do we do now? Aside from examine the wreckage of the SOLSA ships?"

'He smiled, turning away from the window and back to me "We're going to space Rod."

"Again?"

"Yes, but this time, we're not simply going in Kommissars. We're going to build the ship to battle SOLSA. The same ship you saw."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bloomberg News - Exclusive

VP, Rod Andrews: 'Our time to act against SOLSA is now...'

By Charles Chambridge - May 5, 1994 3:45 PM ET

Vice President George Bush, PTEKK Visionary Rod Andrews, and a host of other celebrities participated today in what was described as 'one of the largest and most vibrant send-off's in history since World War II. During his speech, Mr. Bush outlined the emphasis on joint efforts between world governments and PTEKK. 'Our time to act against SOLSA is now. Our time to attack, is at hand.' President Reagan, observing the speech from his home in Bel-Air seemed pleased with the turnout. 'So many people, and everyone looks happy.' he was quoted as saying smiling. The president himself is undergoing an experimental neural grafting procedure to reduce the onset of the recently diagnosed neurological disease 'Alzheimer's' Syndrome. The Vice President Bush's remarks regarding SOLSA couldn't have come at a better time for PTEKK International.

The company itself had surpassed early quarterly earning estimates, and lead to a Rally on the Dow this morning upon news that the final stages of the launch of the flagship of PTEKK and earth, Nordius Prime, were completed in the early morning hours. This begins the launch phase via TransFlash of over 14 billion Komm-Bot military units aboard the ship, and roughly 25 billion Kommissar5000's that will be controlled using the same neural connection outputs controlled by operators from Earth. TransFlash is the system which was created by PTEKK after reverse engineering theoretical data derived from the SOLSA incursion. Destroyed craft after the Earthen Siege was analyzed by PTEKK days after their ship vanished in what was described as a 'TransFlash occurrence'. Matilda Terenstry made a startling announcement that PTEKK Intergalactic had managed to 'map a possible path to tracking SOLSA activity through the use of their technology,' only two days ago.

The large force itself bolstered the manufacturing sector on the futures market today for an increased demand in Kommissar5000's and Komm-bots, as well as other varieties. Matilda Terenstry, who did not attend the ceremonies, gave a short press release early this morning where she outlined PTEKK's initiatives to combat SOLSA forces across dimensional space. 'We are continuing to utilize PTEKK Intergalactic's facilities in space and on earth to increase the output as needed for the continued incursion against SOLSA. All employees and militia forces have been mobilized as operators with increased credit rewards and pay. Government forces from what I have been told, will act as a defensive force to protect our planet.' She then directed further questions regarding TransFlash related communication, product retrieval logistics, and initial TransFlash transportation across dimensions. 'It is our aim, or goal, to make Komm-bots and Kommissars in themselves, autonomous. An operator can control their respective unit from our world, while still utilizing their skills within another, and merely off of a common terminal or perhaps even a Panel in coming weeks.'

Some, were still skeptical as to the levels of necessity PTEKK would need to take, especially to garner to the proliferation of continued ground and air vessels. The power output of their plants on earth and in orbit would require the aid and assistance of multiple utilities who are now attempting to gain a more lucrative stake in the benefits of PTEKK's technology first hand. Still, while critics claim that possibilities that range from SOLSA re-emergence in our own universe, to even the plausibility that TransFlash communications with Komm-Bots, Rod Andrews remained optimistic. 'To end any chance of threat from this race known as SOLSA once and for all, our choice is clear. And PTEKK will lead the way.'

Wide-spread celebrations have been reported in every major city from Los Angeles to Rome. Pope John Paul II himself declared today a day of 'great pilgrimage to protect our shared futures.' Celebrities have turned out en masse, some at gala events like that of the PTEKK-Chrysler Building's main event, or ones scattered across the globe in Paris, Tokyo, Rio de Janeiro, Tehran, Jerusalem, London, and many others. Police in those cities have cited a 'substantial and unprecedented lack of crime and violent activity than expected' in light of the massive world-wide demonstrations and the 'gravity of the event itself for humanity as a whole.' one anonymous official in London was quoted as saying. 'It's monolithic. It's beyond our dreams.'

Aside from celebrations, thousand were in line to turn in 'letters' to potential versions or loved ones lost in this universes. While this is normally handled via normal data delivery systems, some people just felt they had to leave keepsakes or personal videos and letters to go with Rod Andrews and the PTEKK Komm-Bot army. 'Much of that data will be stored on disks to deliver to respective bodies of different universes that SOLSA has attempted, or in worst cast scenario, has conquered.' said Dr. Arthur Winkler, Chief Scientist at PTEKK Intergalactic. He continued on by saying 'We are hopeful that there are worlds that SOLSA has been repelled, protected, or hidden from, but the possibilities are so vast and our knowledge so new and limited, that right now it's anyone's guess.'

That isn't stopping people like 14 year old Jasmine Thompson, who wants to send a message to her loved ones who might be in another universe. 'I just want to tell them wherever they are, if they ever knew me and even if they didn't, that I love them and send with them all my hope.' 46 year-old Ben Klein, wants to send a message to himself in whatever universe Rod Andrews discovers. 'If he comes across any world that I'm on, I'd like to just tell him, myself, that somewhere, there is another you doing just fine. If you can hear this alternate Ben Klein, know that we're doing ok here!' Thousands of other hopeful people have left messages for Rod Andrews to deliver to their alternate selves. 'He's like Santa Claus to them.' said one passerby laughing. 'Best person to fit the part in my opinion though.'

Coverage of the PTEKK-Chrysler Building Send-off event will be covered live on all stations beginning at 5 PM ET.

© Charles Chambridge

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20.

"God dammit you will not go! You won't!"

"Matilda I-"

"This isn't some stupid fucking simulation or something an operator does Rod. We don't even need people aboard the ship, why do you feel it necessary to go? If anything the neural connection systems shou-"

"Stop! Please..." he shouted. It was the first time he had yelled at me and I wasn't sure what to do.'

'To be frank Diary2.0, I had been rather harsh on him after Kama's death, and the attempted forced persuasion by Jameston and two of our former security contractors. In the confusion from the attack, Jameston had apparently gone missing, according to news sources, and was thought to have traveled overseas to evade justice. Marcus Spivy had also made bail in lieu of 'extraneous circumstances' according to the presiding judge. He himself also disappeared, most likely to arrive at the same destination as Jameston, or at least run into him. They're thick as thieves those two, I know from experience. All too well.'

'The Justice Department and Interpol had been notified of their departure by Vice President George Bush himself only yesterday. He was rather embarrassed about the incident saying only that 'he had known Spivy through friends of friends, but never imagined that he'd do something like assassination.' The neural grafting Mr. Reagan was undergoing was still experimental, but it showed signs of abating for now. The transition to a new president may still come anyway due to that. It's for the best I feel, but not like what I was trying to stop now. Rod was already heartbroken over Kama and even I couldn't calculate the possibilities of what may go wrong for him out there. He turned to me after gazing out my office's window.'

"I can't tell you why I have to leave."

"Why? I don't understand Rod! Is it because of SOLSA or something?"

"Yes!...No!...You wouldn't understand." he stammered.'

"I mean are you..." I almost didn't want to know. "Are you...human?"

'He looked taken aback and angry about it. "Of course! What else am I supposed to be?"

"Well I don't know...why don't you try just explaining it to me? Do you think you can?"

'He paused, mouthing words that I couldn't read. "I-I just can't. I'm sorry Matilda."

'I was doing my best. I could tell that thinking about science fiction or other things was a difficult task for him. Imagination in general. So...odd...that he could come up with all these inventions and yet be such a... well drab person. Hardly the type I'd label as creative or even logical. He was between, neither at the top or the bottom, just in the middle in terms of understanding. I was kind of envious of him. Aside from Kama's death nothing seems to have hit him that badly since his ascension. But he still knew things that I didn't, and hadn't taken Jameston's word.'

"I wanted to tell you...I know what happened. When Leonard dropped you off."

'He paused for a moment, turning back to the window. "What do you think happened?"

"That Jameston offered you a deal. A deal that would have had me thrown in jail, or probably a firing squad with the way Spivy would make it work. You knew that we had a history right? Myself, Spivy and Jameston?"

'He nodded, I could see his reflection in the glass through the Komm-bot ticker-tape fanfare before. "Jameston had mentioned it before during the meeting, and you and the board seemed skittish at Spivy at the emergency board meeting. It was so long ago..."

"It was Rod. It was a long, long time ago. And what happened between me and those malevolent, evil men happened a long time ago. I did everything I could to put it past me but being in business it's hard not to run into the same people. Do you remember how I came to work at PTEKK Rod?"

'He paused. I know he was trying not to seem completely incompetent but even with his new suits with tone and light-altering fabric and comfortable Italian loafers, he couldn't fit the part of the 21st century's CEO visionary. "I don't remember any of the early hiring at PTEKK. I just let Herb across the hall handle it with paperwork."

'This is the part that always confused me Diary2.0. How the hell this, this idiot, managed to make moves and waves with such poise and grace, without leaving so much as a ripple. I could have bugged and tapped every room in his apartment, but I only reserve treatment like that for my enemies. People like Spivy. Besides, I wasn't sure if he had installed booby-traps or anything else I didn't know about in case of intruders. After Jameston obviously just walked into the apartment unhindered I realize that his desire or at least insight into personal security was as non-existent as his rationality now. If he didn't remember hiring me, or just didn't want to fess up it's one thing. He was a bad liar regardless.'

"You, or I should say PTEKK Legal hired me after I had been sacked Rod."

'He turned to me, puzzled. "Sacked?"

"Fired Rod. I had been terminated from my last job. That's what sacked means." He really needed to brush up on his vocabulary, or at least read more than the backs of soiled cereal boxes. Of course I'd seen him read documents and other PTEKK communications, but Captain Crunch Fun Facts seemed to be his only summer reading. At least from my previous visit to PTEKK headquarters, still a nightmare circa 1978, though less pungent than before.'

"Why were you fired?"

"For telling the truth Rod. For being honest."

"I don't understand."

'It was going to be hard to explain. I tried anyway. "I was let go for threatening to bring an allegation to light against a friend of Spivy's. One of the men who worked at Carlyle when I did. The man was Spivy's mentor, he was...well he was much worse than even Jameston could withstand."

'His gaze chiseled. His own introduction to Ren had been a bad first impression. "Everyone's only human Rod, but some people really want to be more than that, at the cost of themselves and others. Spivy saw in you what he saw in his mentor, this...awful awful man. Marcus was rooted in this man's belief structure. Emboldened by it. People like Jameston, who had to see the reality of what was done...I knew he could understand. Unlike Marcus, Ren only knew discomfort, but yearned for otherwise. But even the best of hearts can be swayed by manipulated ideologies and misconstrued loyalty."

'I could see that he began to soften up a little. "So what happened to them? Where are they now?"

'I smiled, coyly I'll admit. I think that's all it took for Rod to simply turn his gaze back to the window, his eyes saying all I needed to know that he understood. His face was reflective again in the window pane, features tightening at the thoughts of my worst intentions as he gazed at the parades below "Go on..." he said softly.'

"What? About James and Spivy?"

"No...about why you got sac-...er, fired." he stumbled. He may have taken eons to understand anything but at least he was trying.'

"When I worked at Carlyle I wasn't on the board, like I was here. I didn't even wield departmental authority, but I was a division head of marketing. Marketing, is one of the hardest departments Rod. Anyone in business can tell you that. I was good at my job, mainly at keeping a peace within my section. But..." I turned with my back to him.

"But?"

"But...Rod...sometimes you can't stand by and just let something happen. You have to remember something within yourself that you could believe in. People see it in their heroes, and many people saw it in you. I stood up for what I believed in and...well...if PTEKK hadn't been there or had offered me a job almost the minute news broke of my dismissal, which I'm still surprised was even noticeable to Herb or whoever...whoever wanted to hire me." I didn't even want to turn around. I wanted him to remember hiring me, or remember me in some way. It just felt like he should have, I just couldn't put my finger on it.'

'He was smiling now, still staring downwards. "I don't know where I'd be without PTEKK either. Probably in the same place I was."

"You mean at McDonald's?" I quipped. I immediately felt bad. "Sorry I know it's something you don't like to talk about."

'He shrugged, turning to me briefly, "It's not that I don't like talking about it. It's just...it's like I'm living a dream almost. I can't explain it really. I wish I could Matilda I really do."

'I walked over to him after he had turned back to the window, and I joined him on the overlooking railing. "Just try." I said, clasping his hand. I felt a jolt almost the minute I did, the hairs on the back of his hand twisting upward. His tension abated and he turned to me. It took me back to that afternoon we both ran from the Justice Department together in the limousine for him to leave earth. He felt electric, and time seemed to linger and reef with the echoes of the throngs below.'

'The crowd below had festered now, bolstered with even more of Rod's adoring fans. The event in question, the PTEKK-Chrysler Send-Off, was being hosted on all the major networks by Dick Clark and Brooke Shields. Some band called Skid Row was scheduled to play during his send-off. I had never heard of them before but they were popular according to youth polling standards done by our PTEKK Statistics. The Komm-Bots were doing various dances in circular patterns with reverent fans painting them with various designs and signatures and stickers. There were fleets of Kommissar5000's circling in tornado formations above the cities in various sectors. It was like watching a peaceful and welcome storm across the city with nothing but joy and happiness extruding.'

"I don't even know where to begin..." he trailed off.'

"Does it have to do with the technology? Where you got it I mean?"

'He nodded. "It has a lot to do with it actually."

"How much to do with it?" Gauging his expressions wasn't easy. He was generally sullen and I think he never knew different to know that it was. Maybe that's part of what he was grappling with in regards to Kama.'

"Enough that it requires me to leave. Leave out earth I mean."

"But why? I don't understand."

"It has to do with...ugh. It has to do with how I got this technology. How it's actually doing...well damage."

'I was shocked. Though I had only really thought of our universe. TransFlash had changed many peoples' perspectives, including my own Diary2.0. Hell, all of it had. "What...kind of damage do you mean Rod?"

'He mouthed words again that he did not complete, only to stare off down below again, to the cheering masses. "The kind we can fix."

"Who? You and I?"

"No...It's...It's complicated."

"Please, enlighten me." I contended, my hands flapping at my sides. If he was going to be obstinate about it, so was I. "How is it dangerous? Will it cause death?"

"It may."

'I paused. "Will it cause death...to our planet Rod?"

"I-I don't know Matilda. It's why I'm leaving. If we, or I-"

"There you go again. If you want me involved with what you need to do Rod, you need to tell me what you're thinking. What we have to do. This whole time, you've guided me with these wild ideas, notions that came out of the blue, literally nowhere Rod. And yet look out there. Look at all you've managed to create! I had my hand, but your hand guided mine." I gripped his hand but he pulled out of my hold. I hadn't wanted to appear to be so affectionate at first, but he was so enamored with this quest of his, this crusade. He had barely told me anything before trumpeting across the airways that he'd solve earth's problems, including SOLSA. He was just so focused and driven, more than I had seen him before.'

"I don't mean us...I mean..."

"Mean what?" I asked. "Is this referring to where you get your ideas? Where these inventions have been coming from? Is that who you mean Rod?"

'He stopped for what seemed like an eternity, and with a deep sigh admitted, "Yes."

"Can you tell me more than just yes Rod?" I asked. He clenched his eyes and had loomed forward now closer to the glass, over a railing the lines the window panes. I wanted to do more for him but I just couldn't. Not without his help. He may have achieved more than anyone could ever thought possible, probably himself too, but I wanted answers and I wasn't going to quit easily. I just walked away from him and the window, as he continued to gaze out of it, looking upon his empire.'

"It is said that he wept, because there were no more worlds for him to conquer..." I japed softly. He wasn't half the man Alexander the Great was, but I was trying to make a point. It seemed to me Diary2.0, that he was just trying to find a new world to conquer using SOLSA as an excuse to leave. A new PTEKK franchise to establish. He didn't understand the reference.'

"I'm not crying!" said the 'avid historian,' "I'm just...wondering how it got like this. How it came this far. Like you were saying, all about the remote possibility of it all." he was still gazing off across the skyline at the Kommissar's and the celebrations. Dick Clark crooned in the faint hum of the television I had left on, talking about how 'flash-off' time was impending, eliciting a quaking cheer. I could feel it from my office come from the street less than a minute after. It was uncanny.'

"How all this came to be? Rod...people believe in the future. People want the future. They need it Rod. They need the change to come so they can see it for themselves. Without having to strain their eyes to see or understand. So it's clear. So it's tangible. Do you understand Rod?"

"I guess...I just-"

"You guess? Do you see all those people down there Rod? The only thing you can probably guess about them is that there's tens of thousands down there, if hundreds. You don't have to guess how they're feeling though do you Rod? They're proud! They're united! Celebrations like this are taking place all over earth Rod! Here, now! This planet! Your planet! The one you should stay on."

'He just shook his head, frowning. "You just don't understand Matilda. It's beyond even me now. This is something that isn't just a by-product of our technology, but of my own dreams."

'He was right, for a change. I didn't understand at all. "Your dreams?"

"Yes."

'I was perplexed, but I wasn't giving up. "You mean you saw SOLSA in your dreams?"

"Not exactly."

"Your technology too? Does that come from your dreams? Or at least your ideas?"

"Somewhat..." he said. "I think anyway it has something to do with it, but it's mostly just...well...I can't go into it."

"Why?!" I was on the edge now, slamming the railing and gripping it tensely. He jumped back, startled. I didn't mean to react so brazenly, but I knew it wasn't anything grotesque or malevolent holding him back. It was safer for me not to know, which made my curiosity burn all that much more. I was still distant from him, both in the office and in spirit it seemed. I just couldn't get through to him. I didn't know why he alone, had to leave earth with the Komm-bot armies. All of which, including the Kommissars, would remain inactive or on neural connection to him specifically unless otherwise authorized. It was so ludicrous. Was he doing it because he felt responsible for Kama's death? Or because he had a personal vendetta against SOLSA? Did he want to make sure everything worked properly, or was he hiding more than I could even suspect? I hadn't the foggiest then Diary2.0, and I still don't now. He was staring off again, this time at the sky. In orbit above was Nordius Prime, the largest possible ship conceivable to fight SOLSA. You wouldn't see it now through the daylight sky, or even at night, but it hung there at a moment's notice ready to take him aboard via Kommissar.'

"Matilda...it's not that it's beyond comprehension, even for me...it's just..."

"Just what Rod? What could it possibly be? I've followed you, we all have, through thick and thin. This, crusade of yours might be one of the greatest assets to our planets, let alone the company. Earth may as well be PTEKK itself now Rod! Don't you see? We've won! There's no need to fight SOLSA yourself! That's why we have the Komm-Bots and the operators to use them." I slid closer to him, he lowered his head to the street again. "Please Rod. You don't need to go."

'I put my arm around his side, with my hand resting on his hip. He wasn't as upset as he had been when he walked into my office, but he was still lost in thought, until he said, softly, but clearly: "Matilda, your involvement into what I need to do in space, what I need to finish...it will just create more problems. More repercussions and incalculable things that I couldn't think of."

"An even better reason to stay Rod. You can operate a Komm-Bot from earth, or a neural connected Kommissar, or even Nordius Prime itself! I'm sure Dr. Winkler could find a way to automate it so you could-"

"Matilda! Please." he sharply drew back, but along the railing and the window. "I appreciate everything you've done Matilda. For PTEKK, for Earth, for me. I do. It may not seem like I do but I honestly do. I wish I could tell you more, I do, but I can't. It's something I'm responsible for, or...another me that it's responsible for." His lips tightened and curved. "In our universe, from another."

"Another you...like, a twin? Is it you affecting another universe? Like from this universe?"

'He shook his head. "I doubt it."

"Is this what you meant before though? About damage caused by your inventions?"

"No! I mean-" he groaned, "I shouldn't even be talking about this. It's something that's not of our universe, our world that helped me to make those inventions. Those innovations. But it's the same thing that makes SOLSA Matilda. The same thing!"

'He couldn't be serious. Granted much of the same technology that SOLSA has resembled that of our own, but it wasn't possible that they'd share our technology without some direct influence from Rod in some way.'

"So...are you from that universe?"

"Not exactly no."

"So you're from our universe then? And you've always been? No strange poltergeists or weird ghosts or anything?"

'He laughed for the first time since I'd seen him that day. "No nothing like that."

"So what, is it some kind of delusion or something? Like something chemical?"

'He grimaced. "From my understanding of it all...probably."

"Your understanding isn't the rosiest or most optimistic either you know."

"What do you mean?"

'I leaned closer to him again. "Stay here Rod. I don't think I need to offer further. We can beat SOLSA if you're here, and now. Wherever they go, whatever abstract universe, we can fight them from here. It's not necessary for you to go. We can help understand your dreams together, to save our planet and other worlds too. Remember when I said 'It is said that he wept, because there were no more worlds for him to conquer?'"

"Yeah." he said, sullen.

"I wasn't referring to you Rod." I said smirking, which brightened him a little. "The quote was making reference to Alexander the Great. The conqueror?" His brow tightened. I knew the name was familiar to him, even if history was as much a mystery to him as hygiene was before. If his own grasp of understanding was a planetary orbit, he'd be Pluto. I doubt he'd even get that joke Diary2.0, and this was the first man to be within striking distance of it, and blown right past it none the wiser. Many of our newer employees after that were former NASA and Russian Space Agency officials, who were convinced that if Rod could go to space, anyone could.'

"What did he conquer?" he asked, now resting his head on his hands and the railing. The crowds were still flowing with the breeze, with Kommissar tornados and circular Komm-Bot dance recitals below and across the city.'

"Most of Asia Minor, which is located that way if you're wondering" I said pointing eastward, his head following my hand. It was fascinating to me, and still is Diary2.0, of how utterly unintelligent he was, yet absolutely capable of learning and being inspired by the concept. Just the concept, the idea. And his ideas which bloomed from it were monumental.'

"How does he compare to me? Because of PTEKK, because of what I did?"

'I rocked back slightly, trying to formulate the best answer. "Not exactly. See Rod...the reason why people remember conquerors, vile, bold, or noble, is simply because of their strive. Their drive to accomplish their goal no matter the cost. It was an aura that surrounded them, which magnetized people in tow, to follow and understand why they themselves were drawn to them to aid their quests. It was a pilgrimage for some Rod." The instant I said this he brightened, but it was clear that it was not at my suggestion to stay. I had said something else, something to inspire him to leave. "A pilgrimage, doesn't mean that you have to stray Rod, please. Think it over."

'I tried being as gentle as I could, with my arm still dangling around him. But he wriggled away to the side, and turned to me. "Matilda, you were right about a pilgrimage. And you were right that I don't have to stray. But this isn't straying. This is my dreams coming to reality in the worst possible way. This is something that I have to correct, something that shouldn't have happened. Without me doing so, I doom all of us to a fate of the worst possible caliber."

"Of what? What Rod? Tell me please I want to know why!" I was desperate now. Not even for the ideas, not even for the company. This whole time I had given so much of myself to working here, striving to do good. And I had, and Rod knew, and understood that. Or at least I think he did. But he was leaving me behind, going away. It didn't matter if PTEKK crashed and burned tomorrow to me. With the idea of Rod leaving, it just left me feeling, empty. Like I had before, before I even knew what PTEKK was or the Hover Scooter or any of it. I just wanted him. I didn't even know why. Maybe it's just the misunderstanding of it all, or how he chose me over Spivy and Jameston, I don't know Diary2.0. I just don't. All I knew was, everything I have ever thought was humanly possible or conceivable was trying to walk out the door without saying so much as why. I needed him, and I wanted to know if he needed me too.'

"What else do you dream about Rod?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you just dream about the future? Or just yourself? Or whoever it is?"

'He paused for a moment, transfixed now over the skyline. "My dreams, before all this happened, were literally nothing. I'd dream I was at work, or working one way or another. Even before I had even moved to New York city I knew it was where I would end up. It's funny, you know...just the feeling that it was so familiar drew me here. I felt like I had a purpose or a quality or something...truth is I just got lucky."

"Lucky with your dreams you mean? With what you saw and created?"

'Gazing still he nodded slightly. I least I thought so at the time. He was still terribly thick-skulled. Idiot-savant perhaps. It would explain his ineptitude and his proliferation of ideas. "I've seen a lot of what I'm supposed to do in dreams. But...mixed up. Out of order."

'I think I knew what he meant. "Like Déjà vu? Like it had happened before?"

'He turned to look at me, surprised. "It's common Rod. Everyone feels that way sometimes. Like they've done it before, or had seen something before. Like you for example." I said smiling. I still hadn't told him this and I had hoped it would set him straight. I wanted him to stay, I really did. He had to know why that was.'

"I don't know what you mean."

"When I was first hired at PTEKK, before I was I mean...God this is hard Rod...I...had a dream about you. I mean, I should say that I dreamed of you, shaking my hand. You looked, similar to how you do now. Almost the same suit actually now that I mention it, same shoes." I was starting to choke up. "When I went to sleep that night, the night after I had been fired, I had given up. I'm not a drinker Rod, not like Herb or anyone else but I couldn't help it. There had been nothing to encourage me that day to do anything else. I sat down and drank a whole bottle of Seagram's whiskey that I had bought with my last paycheck. I was at the bottom of the bottle when I fell asleep. And I dreamed about you."

'I walked away from him, and I could feel his stare on me. My back was to him and the jubilance below. "When I dream before Rod, I'd dream of my son, who died. He had leukemia, and I was just starting work, and his father was nowhere in the picture. Still isn't to this day. Never wrote him, or called him. Never brought him a present on his birthday." I started crying. My son John died while I was working, and trying to make enough to pay for his treatment. I had a basic company plan at Carlyle but it wasn't enough. It never is no matter who you are or were. But Rod didn't know that, and I felt his presence behind me, and his hand resting on my shoulder.'

"You never told me you had a son, or any children."

'I hadn't. I could tell when he was being dodgy, or didn't want to reveal something. It was a second nature to me that was gained from John being alive. I turned with my side to him, and looked out the window. "It's not something I like to talk about with just anyone Rod. But...you've done so much for me and everyone, and that dream...I..."

'I felt his hand slide off my shoulder and clasp my hand. I almost felt myself tremble. "Tell me about what you dreamed of."

'I was lost, still looking out the window. I feel awful Diary2.0, because it's been so long that I can't remember John's face. Or the way he smiled. Or before it had all happened. I can't remember any of it. Any of it at all. But I could remember the dream in detail. I don't know why it was so real to me, but it was.'

"I was in my apartment, where I had fallen asleep. I wasn't drunk, and didn't feel drunk. I assumed it must have been the next morning, but it was night still. It felt like the blinds were painted over the windows, and my alarm clock closest to my sofa wasn't working properly. All the hands were just spinning slowly and then opposite. And when I turned to the door, I saw...you..."

"Me?" he said, clearly bewildered.'

"Yes, you. You were there, looking much as you do now Rod. Wearing that suit, those shoes, that hair, everything. I even remember the smell Rod." I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes. He really had been in my dream, I was sure of it. When I opened my eyes he wasn't gazing at me anymore, just at the window, our reflections next to one another over the entire city.'

"You were smiling at me. I had no idea who you were at first. This was before you had become a media sensation and all." I said laughing through tears, "I thought you had broken into my apartment because I hadn't locked the door and were trying to kill me or rape me. But you were just standing there, in this blue glow just grinning. You waved at me, which I thought was bizarre since you must have only been about five feet away. I waved back, still thinking that I was about to be murdered, when you stuck out your hand." I gripped his hand more, he didn't abate this time.'

"Your hand was glowing too, and pulsing with that blue light. The kind I saw with our TransFlash experiments. From the SOLSA footage." I said, with his eyes widening in his window's reflection. "You reached out to me and took my hand. I felt it Rod. In the dream the same as I do now. It was real. It felt real." I could feel his touch, warm and inviting. He still stared out the glass pane below, the crowds still ravenous. "You took my hand, and said 'How wonderful it was to see me.' I didn't need to be drunk or asleep to feel good from that Rod. I woke up only a second after to my phone ringing. It was the next day, with a telephone service asking if I had requested information regarding a position at PTEKK International. That day, that...dream Rod, changed me forever. You did."

'He blinked a few times, heaving a breath occasionally, but his focus was still elsewhere. I had tried Diary2.0, I really had. He wanted to run off some hare-brained quest than stay here and help our planet grow. Help earth to defeat SOLSA no matter how many there were. The attack they lodged was pitiful even by an advanced species comparison. Granted lives were lost, but 3 versus over six-billion? Why didn't he grasp that? Why couldn't he just marvel at how incredible the odds were in our favor?'

"So what do you think Rod? Would you consider staying? At least a little longer until we can know more?"

'He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. I knew it was a no. I was overcome as he walked to the door, first grabbing my hand softly and kissing it, like I had his in the limousine all that time ago.'

"If only..." he sighed, walking to the door.'

'I could have had my Komm-Bots stop him like I had before. He knew that, or must have. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it. The electric lift door sealed behind him as he descended to the street below. Dick Clark's voice echoed over the television as I turned to where he stood, watching what he saw, the clamoring sensation below. Geometric and concise, dancers and the technology of the world littering the street floor. I was so far above them, and so far away now. I felt what he must have felt. Distant. Alone. The tv chattered on...'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Brooke Shields: We're back after our coverage of the Kommissar tornado parades, I guess you'd call them, taking place all over the world our footage a moment ago from Rio de Janeiro. But it's amazing to see the turn-out down here Dick.

Dick Clark: Yeah Brooke honestly it was supposed to be sunnier and it's been drizzling a little bit but the fans just keep coming. Thousands of people are packed in here with this incredible bubble, I wish I could describe it for viewers but I'm sure they've seen something like it around where they live to keep the rain off them. But it just keeps getting bigger and bigger, more people filling the street out here in front of PTEKK Chrysler for its send-off, for Rod Andrews and the throngs of Komm-Bot armies that will accompany him.

Brooke Shields: Seems like a bit much.

Dick Clark: What do you mean Brooke?

Brooke Shields: Well why does Rod Andrews have to even go? It doesn't really seem like it's necessary to me if they have Komm-Bots.

Dick Clark: Well he is scheduled to speak here shortly, so we'll find out. We'll also be standing by with coverage of his speech when he emerges from the fro-...it looks like...he has come out of the front, Rod Andrews, now at the front door of the Eastern Side of the Chrysler building. He is shaking the hand of Mr. Sebastian Bach, member of the band Skid Row, as well as Mario Cuomo, the Mayor of New York, and Vice President George Bush. Just waiting now to see- ok it looks as though he's approaching the podium to speak. Rod Andrews is about to speak before he departs Earth now for a second time let's listen...

Rod Andrews: Good afternoon earth, or night, or morning. Wherever you are, it's great to see you. <laughs> It's great to see all of you! As was mentioned earlier this week, the ability for PTEKK Intergalactic to read, and understand the molecular bonding that remained on the hulls of the SOLSA ships that were recovered. We found no evidence of being, no creatures within. All of the crafts that were engaged and downed, were in fact being controlled from an unknown source. It is the firm belief, that is to say the coupling of both thought and feeling, that the control of the crafts engaged during the April Earthen Siege, were in fact being sent, and most likely controlled, from the larger ship in orbit. It was the calling of PTEKK, in light of the deaths of 3 human beings, to bring about the construction of another ship, through a process of reverse engineering, to do battle with this, this, SOLSA, wherever they are. Wherever they call home.

Rod Andrews: Some of you know how lucky we were, that only three people of Earth died that day. Three. But three too many. Racers, competing for national glory in the Lovell 500 Galactic, a race that I created to benefit mankind. To help us meld the classical with the future. To allow a change that all of humanity could identify with, and share together as new. John Garret, Arnold Peezler, and one of my closest friends, Rafael de Flavio. I didn't have the pleasure to know either Mr. Garret or Mr. Peezler, but...Kama was more than just, some person to me. More than just one of three to me. He was the one reason I needed to go. His existence alone, deserved more than that. A future, a world had been lost that day. Stripped. Taken from us, regardless of how little it seemed to prick, or to sting. One we'll never know again, an emboldened nature, beyond that of...even logical compassion. To allow the death, of even one of us, that can hold such...power. The power to change for the better, simply for the sake of doing so, because it was so uncommon. To allow a loss like this, is intolerable. Unacceptable to me. And it should be to all of you, whose individuality and soul is one of Kama's. His acceptance, and ability to work for a future beyond even himself, is something to strive for...It's worth working for!

Rod Andrews: Many of you will be joining me, for the greatest of adventures. Not personally unfortunately, but I can tell you this much, without revealing more than necessary for our mission, our quest: We will be going beyond imagination. Our journey, will take us beyond a dimension of our own, a world radically different, or possibly similar yet divergent on slight detail. One way or another, we today, walk together, for the preservation of our kind. We will echo the name of our world in our footsteps, and our enemy SOLSA will quake in our steadfast vigilance, and unwavering pursuit. We will not allow them to succeed. They will not prevail over our world, or any human world we can reach. This I promise you, with every ounce of my effort and every fiber in my being. We will defeat them, but I need all of your help.

Rod Andrews: When the final phases are enacted, I will begin the Pre-Operational initiatives. CommSec has assured me, that communication across TransFlash will be possible, but the delay or difference between our initiative may be quite different in our depth of time. It might be an hour from now when I will call upon all PTEKK Employees and indoctrinated militias and operators. It might be a week, or a month. I won't know until I've fully amassed both the data, and the transient assistance I need from the other worlds I encounter. Worlds that may have been overtaken by SOLSA, or have driven them off much as we have. One way or another, I will not return until I have destroyed them, and avenged our loss, no matter how insignificant in the eyes of some it may be. It is a responsibility, a task I'm willing to undertake myself, simply to insure the safety of a world that I've come to know, and not shy from. This world, here and now, which has been united under its own drive and courage for the sheer glimpse at a better future. A future which we can now offer ourselves, and not fear reprisal from one another. We share too much now, our societies are too engrained and intertwined now. We have a responsibility to ourselves. To each other. Ours, our time here, is the gift of time to the future. Not to ourselves. We're but the custodians of this world, awaiting the new time, an echelon to carry us. I can only carry us so far, and you must all carry yourselves and each other further. I must go now earth, and carry out the mission at hand. I will, with the aid of operators and any new cultures or worlds we encounter, destroy SOLSA, and bring peace and stability to our universe and others. I wish the best for you all, and one day, this will be all but a memory, the final epilogue in humanity's scroll of fate, one for the worlds themselves to envy. May luck be with you all. Goodbye!

Dick Clark: Well, I'd say that was an impassioned speech from Rod Andrews, now ascending into a Kommissar in the central street. It is surrounded by a motorcade fleet, only fair to have a royal send-off for, as some regard humanity's greatest hero, epic hero since the days of early literature.

Brooke Shields: It really is incredible. It's...strange it's almost like...like this is familiar? You know? I mean I know it sounds strange to say that and everything but yea this whole event, everything that has happened with PTEKK, SOLSA, everything in between these past few years has just been, incredible. It's almost as though we'd been waiting for this. Like it was supposed to happen, but ages ago.

Dick Clark: It's strange that you mention it, I suppose it's just what they call Déjà vu, or something along those lines. Some type of unconscious memory from what's being thrown around these days.

Brooke Shields: Yeah have you also noticed that we've seen just this surge, this increase in all the ideas and technology that has been coming out? It's incredible, it's amazing. It's one thing to imagine the future but completely different to actually live in it.

Dick Clark: Oh I completely agree, I don't think I'd have imagined...living to see all this...all that would be possible by humanity, at all. The scope of all that's been accomplished in just a few years...it's amazing. For those of you just tuning in, Rod Andrews, just giving his farewell speech from the front of the PTEKK Chrysler building, leaving now to an orbiting ship we know as Nordius Prime. We know it was created and manufactured by PTEKK Intergalactic by reverse engineering footage of SOLSA ships we had engaged during the siege...wow it's fascinating! That we could have scientists, who could just, you know, look at a ship and completely remake it exactly. It's incredible.

Brooke Shields: It really is, we're living in a new age Dick it's absolutely incredible. The fans down here are almost unbridled, there is police presence here but there has yet to be any violent activity from what I've seen.

Dick Clark: Oh absolutely everyone here has been respectful and peaceful it's quite extraordinary. Even on New Years people would be more unruly than this <laughs>.

Brooke Shields: It really is extraordinary isn't it?

Dick Clark: It really i- ok I'm being told by our producer that Rod Andrews has in fact boarded Nordius Prime, gosh that's amazing so fast to just, zip, right up there and be in space. Absolutely incredible. Anyway just me reminiscing sorry folks, my producer is telling me that Rod Andrews has boarded Nordius Prime, and as part of the send off celebration we have had musical entertainment throughout, and one band in particular was set to be last, at random as well I think it was supposed to be timed as such. And they are apparently well liked by Mr. Andrews, I guess he's a metal fan. <laughs>.

Brooke Shields: Who isn't? <laughs> Ladies and gentlemen and those of you at home watching, Skid Row! Woo!

Sebastian Bach: "Heeeeeellllllo earth! Wow! Well we're almost at blast-off time, or flash-off time...<laughs> wooo! It's amazing to be up here in front of you all and all of you watching at home celebrating this, this crusade across dimensions? Is that right man? Wow! It's fuckin crazy! Oh sorry sorry- No but really, honestly, Mr. Andrews, if I can call you Rod...<laughs> You've given us a reason, something else we didn't even know about or maybe just forgot. I don't mean your inventions I don't mean your Komm-bots, or the Kommissars or the Kelvarys or the neural connection I can make to my guitar and anything you introduced. It was the idea! Just the idea itself and your drive man! Most people try but I mean you started at the bottom man, at a rung most can't make it up from. And you made it, you fu-I'm not gonna say it this time <laughs> But you made it! You made it up! And you brought us with you man like how cool is that? Right! <crowd cheering> Yeah! So listen up Rod, by request from a special someone, we've saved this one just for you!"

'Woke up to the sound of pouring rain

The wind would whisper and I'd think of you

And all the tears you cried, that called my name

And when you needed me I came through'

'I paint a picture of the days gone by

When love went blind and you would make me see

I'd stare a lifetime into your eyes

So that I knew you were there for me

Time after time you were there for me'

'Remember yesterday - walking hand in hand

Love letters in the sand - I remember you

Through the sleepless nights and every endless day

I'd wanna hear you say - I remember you!-'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Deactivate Holo-tube...God damn you Rod...'

(Make a note Diary2.0, compliment Wendy on her music decisions for the ceremony. Ensure that I'll be notified via neural connection or via my Panel should activity arise that requires my attention. I need some time alone.)

Excerpt

Diary2.0 of Matilda Terenstry

5/5/94

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

21.

'-time you were there for me'

'Remember yesterday - walking hand in hand

Love letters in the sand - I remember yo-'

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"Oh Christ not now!" I turned off the screen showing the send-off coverage. Don't get me wrong Diary3.0, I loved the send-off. I was touched I really was. I love Skid Row and I generally like all metal, as was mentioned ironically enough. It's just that song, with Matilda, right then. The timing of thinking of it all, was just...too much. Even now thinking of her. If only I could have stayed, or been able to tell her the truth...I do miss her...'

'At any rate, I had successfully cleared orbit with the Kommissar motorcade that escorted me from the surface. Being in space this time felt less awkward and rushed, and I felt a lot more confident than I had in been on my first trip. It was a P.R. thing mostly, the escort, which was ok. I was more surprised that the world had responded so vibrantly, so willingly. They were apt to the notion of my understanding, even if it was skewed and half-cocked. Matilda knew it, but she also knew I couldn't stay.'

'I could scarcely see any other critics on the horizon over the adoring well-wishers and genuine PTEKK operators and employees waiting for the minute I call upon them. For not holding any government authority whatsoever, PTEKK wielded enough power and respect from its products alone to garner respect. Besides, I was avenging earth, with the Doctor's help and the Rodd-iites of course. It's not exactly the type of thing that you can simply reveal to earth though. I had to make it seem more bold, more epic. Going alone, even if I wasn't, made earth stronger I think. Maybe it's just the wind at my back now, who knows. Still, earth was in the dark but had seen the light, and I was now docking with the vast expanse hovering in orbit above known as 'Nordius Prime. It was nearly identical to the ship that I had been off the bow of before. This really was Déjà vu, but the difference was, that I knew waiting aboard was the Doctor himself, Rod Bandever.'

'From the outside, it resembled what I had seen before. A large almost cylindrical vessel shadowed in the starry black. The Doctor had later told me that on his world, the ship's specifications were quite common. The design itself mirrored that of a nuclear submarine, and had the same placement of engines and methods of steering. Instead of propeller turbines or rudders specifically garnered for water, it had the same propulsion as the others I had seen. A mix of Electron Cell fuel and an experimental Particle-Colliding device, a main aspect of TransFlash's delivery mechanism, and the standard propulsion itself required the large arrays of thrusters that I had seen on my previous time in space. The escort had veered off now, spinning and cometing back to the surface below. Earth looked a lot smaller even when I had remembered it from before. It's still fascinates me even now Diary3.0. I drifted upwards towards a larger opening, my computer system lifting me upwards into the bay below. A large grappling arm aided by my computer's new silent and less cumbersome satellite guided navigation, eased the Kommissar into its firm grip. It clunked, yanking my craft upwards into the brimming chamber, with two metal bay doors sealing behind.'

'I remember a lot of haze, lights and sirens, the same conditions and environment I remember before taking off from PTEKK Intergalactic all those years ago. The bay itself seemed small, like something you'd find on a larger scaled bomber. I didn't see any activity either, as the Doctor had clarified that we'd be the only ones aboard. For now anyway. The buzzing and wailing of the bay door's pressure system stopped, and the HUD turned green, flashing a comfortable message "Departure Safe!" It was a vast improvement from the other computer system I remember before Diary3.0, in the fact that I could actually stand it. I blipped a holo-button on the HUD that said "Open Cockpit Door." and it hissed open from the pressure. I eased up out of the prone position to find a series of steps leading down off a platform which had engaged under the bay doors beneath me. They led straight down from the vehicle, to another pressurized door. I climbed out, realizing then that I was still wearing my suit and rather expensive shoes. Any rational person would have prepared otherwise for combat Diary3.0, and I wasn't exactly thinking rationally at the time.'

'Clanking down the metal grooved stairs, the sealed door opened on its own, a green screen blinking welcomingly "Welcome Rod Designation: 285. Please Walk Through The Door To Your Left." I could see that the Doctor hadn't fixed the capitalized letters at the beginning of every word. Nordius Prime must run off some of its systems off the Kelvary computer system. I was already starting to get nervous, as the door revealed a long stretching hallway, metal on both sides with doors on each corresponding. It was dimly lit at various sections, with bluish neon-electron bulbs illuminating the path. They did provide ample light, but not enough to see details or signs on the doors themselves. According to the Doctor, Nordius Prime had been pieced together much like a puzzle in manufacturing, so there weren't any visible markings to distinguish different sections. I followed the hallway to its end, where I was met with another pressure door, which opened listlessly to my footsteps. It revealed something I didn't quite expect.'

'Where you'd expect something like on a naval vessel, or perhaps even in Star Wars or Star Trek, instead the Doctor had his favorite sofa, refrigerator, and tables. It appeared as though my entire living room had been 'flashed' up to the main deck of Nordius Prime. All of it was facing new directions though, and the dinette and bathroom were missing. "Don't worry, there's a bathroom in the next corridor to the right." Doctor Bandever himself said. He was standing in lab coat and slippers, in front of my stove, or what looked like it, lined up with the humming refrigerator against the wall. I still don't know how he knew I had to use the bathroom, or what he'd say next. "Common effect of space travel, straight out the door to your right." After using the space-age bathroom which was far more accommodating, though smaller, I walked back into the 'living room' to find him cooking breakfast.'

"You didn't eat, I can tell. Have a seat on the sofa" he muttered, approaching me with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. His obsession with breakfast and space to this day, is still bizarre based upon his logic. "Where we're going, we're going to need it." he said, returning to the stove.'

"Where...are we going exactly?" I said, juggling the plate as I sat on the sofa. He was piling scrambled eggs onto a plate of his own, and opened the adjacent drawer to grab silverware. I'm surprised even now how well furnished he had made the only room on the ship, well our ship. I think he just enjoyed my décor more than anything else, the irony being I didn't even choose it. Maybe he just liked the colors. He plopped himself down, flinging a fork on my lap only to have it clatter off the plate onto the cushion.'

"Sorry..." he winced sheepishly, "Where we're going requires more than just breakfast Rod. It has to do with the analysis from PTEKK Intergalactic." he revealed his Panel, clicking it open in front of me. It hovered in place in its frame, with holo graphics displayed from the top vertically.'

"I didn't know it could do that..." I mumbled. I'm still amazed at the things I don't know about my own company's technology.'

'He smirked, "Well I can't say I blame you. I didn't exactly force you to learn everything like I should have Rod, I just think that it would be better for you to learn on your own. Make your own mistakes your threshold for understanding and growth. It worked for me at least, in my own world."

"Is that where we're going?"

"My universe is inaccessible Rod. Even with TransFlash it would be impossible to reach for reasons I can't yet specify."

"But why?"

'He shook his head between a mouthful of eggs. "It would create too many variables Rod. Too many fluctuations. I've been having a difficult enough time attempting to gauge and measure just how we can overcome and rectify the damage that has been caused not just by my arrival, but everything since. I'm a scientist not a quantum mathematician Rod."

'I laughed, mainly because of our circumstance, and that I thought he was making reference to a character in a television show from my universe, and most likely others.'

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, never mind, continue." I said, quelling the conversation with a handful of bacon.'

'The doctor rolled his eyes as I gnawed on gristle. "Moving on, as you'll see on the data in front of you, the metallurgical and molecular analysis done by PTEKK Intergalactic, showed various levels of varying mineral and radioactive elements."

'I could hear him over my jaw grinding. "Which means?" I muffled.'

"Laymen's terms Rod: We can track SOLSA's exact movements, or at least where they've been."

"How?"

'He placed his plate down on the table and stood up, clicking his bracelet and panel together to display multi-dimensional information on the green screen in front of us.'

"Whoa, we had this too?"

"Please Rod finish your breakfast. Time is of the essence and I need your full attention. Our first destination will be outside of Earth's range, in the vicinity where you first detected SOLSA encountering our ship. If my theory is correct, we should engage the ship itself, while you are nearby to witness the event."

"But, what about the other Rods? The Rodd-iites I dreamed about? You haven't forgotten that have you?"

"No Rod, I haven't. Even if I have yet to witness it, regardless of how fascinating it is and how I'd like to. However, this plan should hopefully nullify any incursion into their universe at all."

"How do you mean?"

'Some more blips and whirrs came from the Doctor's Panel, which then displayed them on the green screen. "By utilizing basic principles, and the fact that we ourselves do not know when SOLSA emerges from TransFlash, where they will be, we have to go to the source so to speak. Since this is the last place they were tracked to in our system, including I might add where they originated from when they attacked in the April Earthen Siege, this might be the best place to start."

'The green screen was a fascinating concept Diary3.0. Sitting on a familiar sofa, flying through space with your only window being the projection laid out on a wall. It was magnificent. I had been chewing noticeably slower when a blip came up on the green screen.'

"What was that?"

'The Doctor looked at the screen, smiling. "Well according to the readouts, we should be in the direct region where you witnessed the previous battle between our ships. Let's go to an external view." he said, tapping his Panel, switching from a large swath of numbers and graphs, to a full wall view of the outer limits of our solar system. Beyond it even. We were drifting now, out in space that should have seemed new, but was far too familiar. I felt nervous, being that the last time I had been here I'd seen an event occur that would seemingly happen again, given our circumstances.'

"Do you think it will happen now?"

"Hmm? The event that you witnessed you mean?"

"Well yeah." I said, wolfing down the last of my toast while trying to abate queasiness. Don't let anyone fool you Diary3.0, or whoever hears this: Space is not for the feint of heart or the empty of stomach.'

'He grimaced. "Well, I'm not certain as to the exact moment they would normally appear. It's quite extraordinary that we managed to get a ship matching the exact specifications that you witnessed, aside from the fact we had already patented it, out here in the same spot as the conflict you witnessed. This regardless, is an attempt to nullify the damage done, by restricting the event in our own time, space, and universe specifically." he rubbed his temples with his fingertips. "Even thinking about this Rod has made my mind reel. I'm trying the best I can mind you, but without even the slightest inkling of where to start besides here has me boggled."

'Once again Diary3.0, it was up to me, a 'fine idiot', to aid in the Doctor's thought process. "Well, we're at the location where I witnessed the battle before right?"

'He looked up from his lobe massage to the green screen, to see that we were indeed there. "From instrument readings we appear to be there, yes."

"Why not compare the data we have from their ship, to anything around this region? Maybe something will come up?" I postulated. It's funny because at the time, it didn't seem like I had said anything significant, until I gazed over at the doctor, who was standing staring at me wide-eyed. His grin had grown to the length of his entire face, as what I said must have propelled his ideas at a rapid rate.'

"Are you sure you're not a scientist?" he quipped, tapping his Panel, which changed the view on the green screen between a view of the surrounding region and the graphs we had seen before. "Let's see what happens when I do this..." he trailed off.'

"What's 'this'?" I asked.'

"Well, this should lay a template of the readings from the SOLSA crafts, on an overlay of the region. This should show if there is a pattern, or a trail of some sort which shows where the ship went and more importantly, which dimension based upon levels of mineral and gas changes."

'This always caught me off guard. "So what you're saying is that the only difference between dimensions, are minerals and gasses?"

'He paused, while the screen turned and moved about with the new filters. "Well it makes sense really. Plants, animals, and human beings produce minerals, and take in minerals by contrast."

"Wait, people...produce minerals?"

"Yes, of course Rod."

'I definitely remember making an expression of disgust. Minerals to me were like salt, or lead. Commodities. The Doctor noted my expression between his Panel tapping, and elaborated.'

"All people, all things, exfoliate, and give off gasses and minerals Rod. All creatures, all things. It's one of the most rudimentary aspects of the living creatures that is shared upon the notions of basic biology. We all in our own way pollinate the earth. Much like the silent custodians of earth itself, we add our own part to the fold of life by merely adding our minerals and gasses to the world. It creates things Rod, as much as time and energy, the two building blocks of the universe."

"Wait..."

"What is it?"

"Did you just say...silent custodians?"

"Yes. Normally I use that term to refer to insects like ants or earthworms. It's quite common in my universe to refer to these creatures as such knowing full well their impact on the environment and the ecological base of the planet's needs."

"But the way you referred to it just now...I'd heard it before..."

"In the dream you mean?"

'I nodded, with his expression hardening in thought. "This Déjà vu as one would call it, is becoming quite troublesome." he added, flicking the Panel a few more times.'

'This was way over my head Diary3.0, even now. The notion that even humans did more than their simple routines stupefied me. Go to work, sleep, eat, drive, do yard work, wash your car, all these things contributed to some individuality, some semblance of personal perfection and effort. This to a person would be exhibited in the form of a memory, or a thought, or a feeling. But little realizing that it was also creating a tangible molecule, a mineral bonded through thought and the neural static activity of the mind. I would come to grasp all this much later Diary3.0, as one of my first deep dives into the great neurological unknown was interrupted by three sharp and distinct bleeps.'

"What was that?" I jolted.'

"No need to worry Rod, that was the spectral and gaseous analysis being completed by the computer. It was restructuring and hypothesizing the route of the SOLSA ship, and not the version of our ship, in contrast to the large bubble left in the wake of TransFlash."

'It was clear, that I was no scientist, even if I had my moments. "Um...in English?"

'He rolled his eyes. "Basically, it means that we'll be able to determine where SOLSA went, and will be able to replicate their TransFlash jump to the location in question."

'I knew what he meant now. Talking about how all the filters and analysis systems worked always confused me, and I was hardly the type to even try to learn how it all worked. If I had a choice anyway. Forbes's former man of the year was above such things, at least so I thought. The Panel flashed some invisible highlighted buttons that he tapped, revealing a 'cross-pattern analysis' as the screen showed. Overlaid on top of the original SOLSA ship's path, was a separate indicator illustrating its path to a different universe. A universe not ours.'

"If this data is correct, then SOLSA have already come and gone. Our interaction with them...will not happen yet." the Doctor sighed. He seemed disheartened, thinking that this whole paradox that had unfolded would be solved, without the necessity for TransFlash. "It's clearly not possible, or at least rational to await the reintroduction of the SOLSA ship. They may not even come back to this point, and there's no other place to confront them, than..."

"Than?"

'His gaze slimmed. "Than the past. It's the only way it seems."

"But...how are we supposed to go to the past? I mean I understand that TransFlash can take us to another universe...but another time?"

'The Doctor's expression tightened. "It would appear that, is the only way to properly merge all the aspects of this universe's mystery, and how it has befallen both of us, is to do exactly that."

'I stared at him, bewildered. This is still too much for me to understand Diary3.0. "Merge? What do you mean?"

"According to the data as seen on the green screen before us, the path and trajectory of SOLSA's first TransFlash jump, can be properly measured and gauged by the computer itself." he said, tapping the Panel's lower tab twice. A disembodied voice began announcing various numbers to itself. Statistical predictions and probability calculations necessary to determine our survival to wherever SOLSA went after their battle I'd witnessed. I had to hand it to the Doctor, one thing I had requested after my first arrival was a different computer system's voice. It didn't sound anything like the operator for a phone messaging service anymore. He went on.'

"Since we ourselves have used TransFlash to deliver goods at near instant speeds, we can easily assume that we have the capacity to manipulate time. At least bend its laws in our favor for PTEKK's logistical purposes on our...your earth. With that in mind, SOLSA in the future, or possibly us, must have created time travel from TransFlash, or changed TransFlash in such a way that time travel was a side effect of something we did, or that they did, or have yet to do." he said, biting his thumbnail while scanning the green screen wall.'

"Well how do we know for sure?"

'He stopped chewing, looking at me and flapping the Panel down on the table where his plate was. "We don't." he walked back and forth behind the day-glo sofa, pacing now. "We don't know anything Rod, aside from the fact that those readings are a blueprint, a map to show us what to follow, the wake of SOLSA itself. What compelled you to think of comparing both of them if you don't mind me asking?"

'I wasn't sure how to answer. I wouldn't exactly call it a feeling, or even intuition. Something about it just seemed familiar. I turned around and said "I guess it was another instance of Déjà vu."

'His pacing didn't abate, and his expression became more rigid. "More troublesome by the minute." he stammered.

"So what do we do? How do we track them by using TransFlash?"

'He smiled now, and stopped pacing. "Believe it or not Rod, what you've just done was given me all that I need to at least formulate the necessary adjustments with the help of the computer of course, to program a course in space and dimension with TransFlash. We can do this Rod, it's just going to take me some time."

"Well, what about SOLSA? Could they still come back here? To this spot?"

'He shook his head. "It would appear at least, that with the ability to traverse dimensions, and certainly time, that their interest or ability to come back here wouldn't be inclined by anything other than our own presence. You said yourself you saw both the ships arrive at the same time with TransFlash correct?

'That was definitely how it had happened. "Yes I'm certain they both came at the same time."

"Well that it would be safe to assume then, that we have yet to encounter them until the future!" he said laughing. He was always strange, but about impending conflict even more so. Perhaps it was his method of coping with what was unexplainable or unknown. Pure unadulterated fascination.'

"Rest easy Rod, I'll take care of these calculations with the computer in one of the compartments down the hall."

"Down the hall?" I said turning around again away from the green screen.'

"Last door on the right, down the stairs, it's the main engine room. Relax Rod you'll see it soon enough to know what this ship is capable of. I'll take that plate." he said, scooping it up silverware and all. "Take a nap, you look like you could use it." he said, depositing my dishes onto the counter, and disappearing out of the pressure door with his Panel. He was right. I was exhausted, even after breakfast. Space travel and all the activity and thinking and everything that happened with Matilda and Kama was too much to process even now. I had been reluctant to even be involved with people, or hadn't been inclined to. Since I had thrown caution to the wind with PTEKK I'd lost one friend and alienated another. Still, the view of space overcast by a flow of computer generated graphs and pie charts made me sleepy, and I found myself drifting off into the coarse day-glo fabric.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"...merge as one. To collaborate with this, this, Rodd-iite Brotherhood. My elders, have tasked me to undertake this goal, this meeting of our minds."

'I was back in the dream, the classroom, all of it. But this was different, and was the dream I had had before. Where there were less Rodd-iites, and the speaker was the 'Zulu' Rod, known as 662. The few of them that were grumbled, and I could make out the few faces remaining. Fellow Rods, few and far between in the seats now, each with their own distinct identity. He continued.'

"This SOLSA, will more than likely attack again. The Circle of Elders, knowing that I can enter this realm, have tasked me, to ask for aid, of any nature, from this council, this umuZi. We cannot battle this force, we are not equipped. My world is an honorable one, even the tribes that I do not speak for, and to which my elders do not speak for. We have sought envoy with all their tribesmen and leaders, to unify against this scourge. But it would negate and erode honor, tainting the notion itself, to lack the capability to ask for assistance, to seek new allies. We do not know how to contact you in the future, but according to the knowledge I...felt, from the intangible small paper satchel, your umThakathi, your Doctor, would find a way to reach us. If one of you, or any of you should see the one you call The Doctor, either in this world or the reality you know, you must inform him immediately that-"

'Rod-662, Ifu-IngaNe or 'Skychild' as I'd come to know him as, disappeared in a blue flash. He was standing at the podium delivering a passionate plea for assistance, and vanished. I could only assume the worst.'

'There were some mutterings from one of the remaining Rodd-iites. He was dressed in thick skins of various animals and wore a wooly cowboy hat. "Figures he'd disappear 'for the good part.'' he jeered. Besides him, I only saw two other Rodd-iites in the classroom's audience. One looked like he was covered in a blanket shivering, and the other looked lost in a trance, eyes locked into the grain of the chalkboard. None of the three looked particularly happy, and they all still resembled me in some way. The cowboy Rodd-iite, who appeared much larger and had a deeply sloped brow, noticed my attention and glared at me. "Somethin' wrong pahd'na?" he scoffed.'

'Suddenly, I felt the chair's firm seat disappear, as I came to in the Living Room main deck of Nordius Prime to the opening of the pressure door.'

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'The Doctor walked through the pressure door, Panel in hand. He walked around the sofa close to the counter and the green screen wall, and noticed I had been sleeping. "Did you sleep?"

'I nodded. "I had a dream, a brief one...it seemed like it was a continuation."

"A continuation?"

"From what that I had before, involving 662, the Zulu-Rod?"

"Really?" he exclaimed, excited. I could tell he was a fan of the 'Zulu-verse' already. "What happened?" he said, sitting on the table and tapping a new page on his Panel.'

'I told him all about the speech from the first dream where SOLSA had attacked. He seemed troubled when I mentioned that Rod 662 had vanished mid-speech from the dream, and not appearing after. I also made note of the Rodd-iite with the cowboy hat, who would later be known as 'Rod 447' according to the Doctor. But for now, the Doctor had no reasonable explanation as to who he would be, and who the other Rods were in the background of my dream.'

'He scribbled some things on his Panel with his fingertip. "In the future, I need you to make more notes of what you see. Anything significant at all, could shed light onto an aspect that we are missing here Rod. All the variables, the possibilities of it, need to be known, no matter how mundane or unimportant."

"How?"

'He paused to look at me. "Don't you carry a Panel? You are, or at least were the head of PTEKK. Don't you use their products?"

'I really didn't, aside from when I had to. I didn't carry a Panel, even now, and I scarcely remember carrying a wallet. It was hardly necessary though, given that a company which I was the figurehead of made anything I needed. Most things I could just take as write-offs. Don't think that I splurged Diary3.0, I hardly needed for much of anything. My biggest write-off included things such as 'So You're Hungry...' a small meal made by PTEKK International which is akin to Ramen noodles, only it prepares itself with a heating activator merely by shaking it vigorously in the package. It's quite remarkable really, all the things we made. I felt even worse knowing that I barely used my own products.'

"Anyway, you won't be able to use a Panel for this mission anyway. You're going to need this." he said, brandishing his silver bracelet. "This device will be necessary for the next phase of our venture."

"How so?"

"Well, you said yourself in your dream, that I appeared to Rod 662 in his vision, correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's obvious that, I do not remember this event. I don't remember the 'Zulu'-verse as you call it, even if I was supposedly there in his vision. The fact that he described me in detail, without knowing who I even am, raises startling questions. Incidentally, it would be best for me to remain aboard the ship during such circumstances, like meeting a brand new 'Rod', from a new dimension."

"Well wait a minute. You came and met me in my universe. Why shouldn't you go do the same?"

'He seemed flustered. "As much as I'd love to explore a new planet, especially the 'Zulu'-verse Rod, I should not leave the ship."

"But why?"

"Because of the damage I have already incurred from meeting you in your universe. I am not from these sets of universes Rod, you know that. It was an incalculable abnormality that I managed to find you in the first place, and it has already spawned problems and conundrums the likes of which I cannot perceive or measure!" he was waving his arms now, realizing such, and slid them back to his sides. "It's much safer then for the time being, that I abstain from creating further disruptions, or, 'fluctuations' in the ways of these universes. You're from a universe that exists Rod, one that is not mine. This ship, the idea may be from my universe, but the ship was made in yours. This means that you have more leverage than I do, in your world and on the one we're about to go to."

"Wait...hang on...stop." I said, rising. "First of all, you exist just as much as me. I thought you were a delusion far before PTEKK or anything else. Even now I have my doubts but you're still more welcoming than anything else that has occurred in my life until now."

"Thank you." he said, smirking.

"But, you should go speak for yourself. Regardless of what you think you're gonna cause."

'He sighed, putting his hands and the bracelet and Panel behind his back. "Rod...we can both agree that my mind and ideas, put us both where we are now, correct?"

'I couldn't deny that. "Obviously."

"Well, then you need to understand, that even the slightest change in what I would say, do, or act as, in this universe, would alter 662's impression of me. Of you."

'I was still stumped. I understand now why he wanted me to do it, but I didn't at the time. "But...why me? I mean why me instead of you? And how am I supposed to be you anyway?"

"With this bracelet!" he gaffed, tossing it to me. It flicked off my arm and onto the sofa. "Put it on, and I'll explain how it works."

"But..."

"Rod, please. You've managed to follow me into space and make a company from the ground up using previously unknown technology from and within your own universe. Don't you think you can trust me by now?"

'He was right, and I had little option considering we were still floating outside the Milky Way, where I had first spotted SOLSA. I begrudgingly did so, and I still don't know why. What happened next was the connection to a true and unabated form of neural connection. PTEKK's advancement before would simply allow you to attune to the power systems and the steering or movement of vessels or Komm-Bots. This brought up a personal display in your line of vision, corresponding to other gauges and screens that were emitted holographically. "What you're seeing can also be set so only the user can see it. Or it can be set to what's known as 'broadcast' mode, in case you want to share the screen. Did I use the bracelet in the dream according to 662?"

"No, you did give him that 'intangible' packet though, and pressed his bridge in the same manner you did in my dream."

'His mustache twitched, byproduct of thought. "Well hopefully he'll remember it, over certain people I know" he said glaring, then smiling playfully "I'm just joking of course. This is new science there's no packet for this!" He was in unusually high spirits, and I wasn't sure what had caused it. He abated from his brief bout of irrationality, cleared his throat, and continued his tutorial.'

"One of the most important details. In front of you is a screen which controls your personal appearance. You can use this to resemble anyone who you're capable of scanning. However, its power is not rechargeable in this universe by means I have yet to discover. It would require an entire city grid for one hour, being powered on Electron Cells mind you, just to recharge the amount of 'costumes', I guess you could call them."

"Seems kind of...well...dishonest...I mean where did you get this program anyway? I thought you were a reputable scientist."

'He scoffed, "I'm more reputable than most, but that is a common 'toy', if you'd call it that, in my universe. People often take the resemblance of people on random days. Wearers of these bracelets can tell one person from another, or if they're wearing a 'costume.' People on your world, and other worlds we encounter, will not. Now, open the corresponding menu that says "Saved Images."

'I did so, and it revealed a list of the Doctor's identities that he had taken, for brief usage. Ren Jameston, Marcus Spivy, and a host of other names began to pop up under the imagery menu. Including, Rod Andrews, which he had saved as Rod-285.'

"You've pretended to be...me...and all these other people? For what purpose?"

"Please Rod I-"

"Stop! This is manipulation the likes of which I haven't seen from you before, what the hell happened to-"

"Rod! Do you understand your purpose?"

"I-"

"Do you understand your goal out here? Your true 'value' as you'd put it, or as others would on your world. Did you think about the amount of effort and persuasion necessary on many levels to ensure the progressive outcome of a plan?"

"What, well-"

"Rod...Ren Jameston, Marcus Spivy, many other people I had to masquerade as, I guess you'd call it, were inhibiting your world. Profiting off the misery and suffering of others. First for the goal of impressing themselves and their perceived betters. But when they had accomplished that, they merely lived in the tainted epilogue. One that didn't think of a future, let alone care about it. They were villainous and rather grotesque human beings, capable of only squelching and grasping at whatever they could gain for themselves."

'I laughed. "You're starting to sound like Matilda Terenstry."

'He had paused. "If only you knew what she knows about them. Who they were, who they worked for, what they intended to do. Before my-"

'I stopped to look at him. His face seemed twisted with corrupted thoughts. "Before your?"

'He widened his gaze and shook his head. "Never mind, please Rod, look down at the bracelet image menu. If not for my sake and your own, think for Rod 662. If you truly think he exists, or that you're genuinely worried about his safety, then access that menu. Access the image of me and tap it."

'I sighed. I was the worst Forbes' Man of the Year to date, but I had to listen to him. He had gotten me this far, even if I was oblivious to measuring it. I tapped the 'Saved Image Menu: Doctor' file, and I became immersed in yellowish hue. "That's normal by the way, that yellow effect. It will become less noticeable the more you move and interact as the subject, well, me in this case." he said laughing. "Stand up take a walk around, gaze upon your new face! My own!" he approached, brandishing the back of his egg pan off the counter. I could see that I had his same hairstyle, the same coat, the same face...well, specifically Diary3.0, his face and mustache and features. Not simply my own.'

"What do you think?" he asked.'

'I felt awkward, staring into an egg pan at myself. " So what now?"

'He smiled. "Using the analysis in conjunction with the computer system and TransFlash, we can access the universe where SOLSA went to after this one. And I have a hunch, that our first destination, their first destination, was your friend Rod-662's 'Zulu'-verse world. So I'll begin preparations for TransFlash, and you familiarize yourself with the bracelet more and feel free to ask more questions when you have them." he smiled and walked back to the counter, where he tapped and blipped on his Panel more.'

'To this day Diary3.0, I love the bracelet. It has come in handy more times than I can count. But as for the Doctor's hunches, I could do without them. They always had a tendency to be right.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

22.

Nordius Prime Main Computer

Translation Filters: Zulu, Bantu, Xhosa, English (phonetic)

Subject: Official 'Scroll' Transcript of the amaBandla izAngoma (The Tribal Council of Diviners)

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"On the morn of the seventh moon in the planting cycle of Crescent Moon, we call this communing to order, of the Tribal Council of Diviners. RhadNhe Ifu-IngaNe, son of NnNnGhane of the Great Northern Tribe, inDuna of the Storm Bull iViyo, Defender of New Khayelitsha, come forward to the circle."

"Your trials by the flame of conflict run deep. Your destiny was one of greatness, rising quickly within your iButho. After the first SOLSA attack, and your interaction with the spirit guide you know as 'The Doctor', you were bestowed with the title of Grand iNikosi, presiding over the iViyo who battled back the second fateful wave of SOLSA invaders. Once an inducted member into the amaBandhla amhlope, the white assembly, you presided over Elder matters in person, and was awarded iGwalagwala, the feather of the true warrior. Our ancestors would be proud from the world beyond, to know that hundreds of years after their triumphant victories over the Terran tribes, one with the Northern Tribes would lead us to victory over an unimaginable enemy. New Khayelitsha in particular, owes you a debt of thanks, lasting to the afterworld and beyond."

"Grand iNikosi you once were, but from that height, you have fallen. Torn by strife, and the loss of your umakoti, your betrothed bride, perished in the second SOLSA invasion upon New Khayelitsha. You gained notoriety in that battle, repelling many of the mechanical invaders single-handedly. The losses of those attacks, came at a great cost to all of us. Our world and all its tribes suffered as a whole. But our battle against SOLSA has made us stronger, all of us, except for you. Your recovery from the loss of your betrothed has not taken effect, and the work of our white muthis, the umuthi omhlope, are convinced that you harbor within you a demon. Feelings of hate, of lust for death. Of suffering. Such illnesses are common, and treated by our muthis and recover. This scar has wounded you deeply RhadNhe. Deeply enough, that you are beyond our aid, and our acceptance."

"Exile, is not a common word for our people RhadNhe, Skychild of the Great Northern Tribe. But your grief, your pain, is a sickness. An illness of self-woe. Of defeat and weakness. You have been corrupted by the black muthi, the umuthi omnyama, a sickness that cannot be cured or treated by our white muthis. The fate of your betrothed, could have been related to this umuthi omnyama. Only after your vision, of this umThakathi, this Doctor, did SOLSA reappear. Only after you had ascended to the heavens to gain wisdom for our world, did they return to destroy your love, and the loves of others on this world. Unkulunkulu chose to take your betrothed's life, to spare yours and many others of Terra. To spare you to defeat SOLSA. The will of our ancestors could not have staved the hand of god. This was meant to be. It was written. You will be reunited with her in the spirit plane, the afterworld where our ancestors hold the flame, the fire of our people, and the stories of our elders. You too will sit at the fires out of elders, and tell the tales to the travelers of our future. But that time is not now RhadNhe. Your purpose is within the living, until our god sees it fit."

"Within the outer circle, is a member of the izula ukuhlanya. Please RhadNhe remain calm. I know this must be difficult for you. Your honor is not in question. Your deeds have value and merit in our tribe and in all others. But this sickness, this black muthi, was given to you by Unkulunkulu as well. Our circle, that of the highest elders and diviners of the tribes of the eastern continents, in accordance with the medicines and sciences at our disposal, cannot aid your quest. We cannot aid your recovery, or hinder your illness. We are lost to you RhadNhe, as you are lost to us. We conclude it could be ihlumela, a tumor within your own mind. You had battled SOLSA many times within battle, and your ill will towards yourself could be more than simply loss. Your fate is one fraught with oneness, and introspection. It is of emotion, and the cultivation of understanding and confronting the evils within ones' self. A warrior, who does not know himself, does not know his limitations, or his potentials. Such a warrior, no matter the stature or place in the tribe or the nation, would not be full or complete."

"Go from us now RhadNhe of the Great Northern Tribe. Defeat your inner shadows and drive the unholy SOLSA from existence. Your honor remains untainted, and your deeds will be remembered well. Grand iNikosi, the title and position, awaits you once more, but only when you have quelled and vanquished what lurks within you. The cure for your ailment, can only be found within you, or found on a quest, a crusade or a pilgrimage of understanding, or of purpose. The izula ukuhlanya walk the lands of this continent, and others like them walk the other continents of our tribes of Terra. The nomadic quest, joined in fellowship with those sharing your pain, a pain of loss like yours. May you walk in peace, and gain wisdom and strength. Find the strength RhadNhe, within you to defeat your demons and SOLSA. The fire of our ancestors will guide you. Hamba kahle, RhadNhe Ifu-IngaNe, son of NnNnGhane. Go well."

'Scroll' transcript ends.

Saved to Internal Memory > Documents.

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'The Doctor's instructions were simple. I of course, had many questions about the bracelet. For one thing Diary3.0, it may as well have been a PTEKK Panel you simply wore on your wrist. The difference came in its composition, where the Panel would be a small corner 'chip' of a frame, which was open-ended, and could be extended into a box form. The bracelet on the other hand, was far more advanced. The same screens which would present themselves on the Panel, would do so in the bracelet user's vision. Bionic displays, heart-rate, sub-sonic music systems, which by the way Diary3.0 staved off insanity for me much later after this had transpired. The silver-alloy it was made of according to the Doctor 'increased the output of neural energy to the internal electron mechanism, while hindering external radioactive and electro-magnetic forces in its functions'. Basically after he had reworded it, the metal and the internal mechanism itself prevented an electro-magnetic field from damaging it. This process was one which even the Doctor was unable to replicate. According to him, 'Those bracelets are quite common in my universe, as a wrist-watch would be here. The model which I am using is actually not quite as durable or even as gaudy as some I've seen from back home.' Regardless of how elegant it was, it would be a lifesaver to come Diary3.0.'

'As we had approached the new earth, having TransFlashed to the 'Zulu-verse' as the Doctor called it, he had instructed me as part of his initial plan to recruit Rod 662 into the fold. I remember asking a lot of things pertaining to that in particular, just as many as I had about the bracelet.'

"Well wait, according to my dream, if this really is the home of Rod-662, wouldn't he already be interested in joining us? I mean especially if his planet really had been attacked by SOLSA?"

'The Doctor was relaxing on his favorite sofa now, tapping his Panel as usual. "Rod while your dream is a clue which will ultimately lead us to all of the Rodd-iite Brotherhood you remember, we do not know what effect SOLSA has had on their universe. We do not know if our Zulu counterpart survived whatever attack you believe occurred. We don't even know the first thing about his culture Rod! Even the Zulu Nation of your world, your universe is radically different than his. From the way you've described him and his world from the dream, it's almost as though he was a completely different person from us entirely. We don't know what to think, aside from one thing." he said, raising his index finger. "That he said, from your dream mind you, that he had seen me before, and that I said the same thing to him that I had originally said to you upon meeting for the first time."

"You don't think he'll remember me? Just you?"

'He nodded. "If we wish to have any leeway with this Rod and his world, then we need to assure him that we are on the same page. However, because I myself did not dream of this 'Zulu' Rod, but he dreamt of me, then the only connection we both would naturally have, is you."

'He had a point. I had the dream about Rod 662, even if he had mentioned seeing the Doctor much of the same way I had. Any information I had about this new Rod, and anything I remembered from the dreams themselves, required my presence.'

"But why not have us both go? Why not reveal the truth initially?"

"Rod, we must ensure first that he even survived the SOLSA attacked that you said was being conducted in his universe. We, and by we I mean you, must assume my identity to persuade him to join us. You remember the most about your dream Rod, including my interactions within it. As strange as it sounds, you're more qualified than me to communicate with this new Rod, even if you have to take my direct and exact resemblance to do it."

"But you're still not explaining why you yourself can't go too."

'His mustache furrowed. "After my previous interactions on your world Rod, I would think you'd be skeptical of my direct involvement in much of anything. Besides, remember the packet that I had originally written for you?"

'I sighed. "Of course."

"Well, and I don't mean to pass judgment, but this will allow you to be involved with the development of a new packet."

"A new packet?" I gulped.'

'He nodded and smirked. "This packet will be specifically garnered to the Rodd-iite Brotherhood. By observing your movements and actions from Nordius Prime, I can better understand Rod 662's 'Zulu'-verse, and you can better interact with it, in my likeness."

'His efficiency left me staggered. "So essentially, you'll be in two places at once, through me."

"Exactly!" he laughed. "You will continue to do what you've become accustomed to: Being perceived as a sensation, but specifically to garner and empower the Rodd-iites."

"Do you really think I'll be able to play off as you this whole time?"

'He raised an eyebrow, then shook his head. "I'm not asking you to take my presence in actuality all the time. Just when we encounter new Rodd-iites that you yourself have already met. As I said earlier Rod, they're your dreams, and you remember them, even if I was in them or mentioned."

'I glared at him, "So you'll take responsibility, as being yourself, once I convince Rod 662 to come with us?"

'He nodded. "And as soon as we find how to reach the other Rodd-iites, which I am already discerning."

"How so?"

'He turned his Panel flat away on his lap, as he was strewn across the day-glo sofa. "Using the same filtering method that you yourself came up with of course. I'd love to take the credit for that one Rod but it was pretty brilliant if you don't mind me saying."

'It did feel good Diary3.0, I can't deny. Everyone has moments of brilliance, and though mine was merely a spurt, it at least gave me a nip of confidence. "So you think you'll be able to figure out where that SOLSA ship went next?"

"I should be able to after the initial analysis of the area around the planet, and of this universe."

"Wait, what do you mean? Isn't this earth just like ours?"

'He looked at me, bewildered, pausing briefly between his Panel tapping. "Rod, these...these universes are different on levels that I cannot immediately measure or calculate. Our presence alone here may radically change things, just as my presence in your universe altered everything as well!"

'He had a point, and elaborated. "Nordius Prime itself could be in danger if I do not tabulate the possibilities correctly, or accurately. Any minute change whatsoever could increase the likelihood that we would alter this world much as we had yours. It's a chance we cannot take lightly or recklessly, and it's another reason why you must pretend to be me, to convince Rod-662. We cannot afford to lose or mishandle any possible or potential event which could work in our favor."

'I was convinced. It was hard not to be, especially if you witness a hyper-intelligent version of yourself solve all your problems for you on your own world, only to thrust you to another. He was also confident in my belief that my dreams provided a bridge to understand something that he had missed. That, and the Doctor wouldn't have merely handed over the most valuable possession which he kept from his own world. Besides, I wanted to get off Nordius Prime and see this 'Zulu'-verse anyway. Space may have felt like a second home to the Doctor, but it always made me feel nauseated. He had noticed.'

"Want any breakfast? It should help settle your stomach."

'I waved him off. "No thanks, just explain to me more about what we have to do. The sooner I can get on land again the better."

'He winced. "I understand the feeling. I thought I'd be queasy too, it was described as such in my universe."

"Will I ever hear about what your universe is really like? Or how it was before you came?"

'The Panel in his hands began to blink, and I could see he was torn between his work and his answer. "Please Rod, I will be happy to elaborate on my world in the future once our damage has been rectified."

'I paused. "Our damage? What do you mean by our?"

'He rolled his eyes. "Rod, both of our actions and lack of actions thereof have contributed to this result. I'm willing to accept the fault of my own actions if you'd be willing to do the same."

'I was flustered, but he had a point. If I had made more of an effort to reign in Spivy and Jameston, or at least had the inkling to be a better CEO much of this could have been avoided, or kept within my own universe. At least according to the Doctor's theory. "Alright, I'll admit I made mistakes on my earth, in my universe I mean. I should have done more, and about the packet I-"

'The Doctor started laughing and I stopped. I couldn't have imagined what he was on about. "What's so funny?"

"Rod don't you see? That old packet is archaic, much like the newspaper clues I had before! We're writing the new packet now, you and I, for the Rodd-iites, and to help define and ultimately defeat SOLSA. There's no need to fret over the past packet any longer, and when I said I didn't mean to pass judgment earlier I meant it. We're in foreign lands now, new worlds to conquer. The old is the old, and the new is something unexplainable that we must understand for the sake of it. For my own curiosity, your hearing device the one I gave you, is it still functioning?"

"Yes. Which is another thing, how can I not hear all your thoughts if I can hear them at all?"

'He looked up from his seat on the sofa and smiled. "Since we have the technology on your world already I can elaborate. It works in conjunction with the neural connection system, and allows me to displace the thoughts in my head from the ones I choose to project. It essentially grants me a third of a new brain in an artificial form. Created quite accidentally on my world mind you, but it allowed in great leaps of human cognitive understanding which formed the future of the world I am from."

'I still couldn't help but be curious. "So about that newspaper. If that doesn't matter anymore...may I see it?"

'I could see his hand reach into his left pocket, evident that he still wished to know he hadn't lost it, and gazed up at me from his Panel. "Please Rod, I'm more than apt to share the truth of what I know, once all the variables to what we must control are known and calculated for."

"But then you'll tell me all that you know? Like, everything?" I said. He had kept me in the dark for so long, and I had followed him this entire time.

"All that I know will be greater once we've compiled all of the Rodd-iite Brotherhood together Rod. The dreams you had, coupled with the reality of TransFlash and the defeat of SOLSA. All that I can tell you now, is that whatever I tell you, could influence things further. I'm sorry Rod, I truly am, but until we can connect all of this together, we truly won't know anything, either of us." he sighed deeply, and resumed scribbling and tapping on his Panel.'

'I could see that he wasn't going to reveal anything about his world, at least as of yet. "So how do I get to the surface? Back to the Kommissar?"

"Correct. You ship should be waiting for you in the main bay at the end of the hallway. If you haven't yet, you should take this opportunity to explore the ship more."

"What else could there be?"

'This made him frown. "Rod, you're flying in a space ship above a different version of earth in an alternate dimension. You have just come from your own world, which had been influenced and changed with new innovations and dynamic new human ideals, which lead us to where we are now. Aren't you the least bit curious about anything?"

'I was still more nauseous than curious. Physical aberrations still overrode enlightenment, at least for me. "Where's the bathroom again?"

"Out the pressure door, to your right. What's with you Rod? Geez."

'Again he had a point. My mind was wandering about other things. Not Kama, at least at this point. But I did find myself thinking about Matilda a lot. She wanted me to stay, but why? I guess I'll never know Diary.30, but I would have liked to. When I think back on the idea of living in a moment, life would be more fun if we could choose the moments we wanted to live, as opposed to embracing the fleeting. I suppose it would make life far less interesting. I returned to the main deck after using the space-age bathroom, to find the Doctor shoo'ing me back out the door.'

"Go on Rod, take the bracelet and set it to my image as I instructed you to. You'll find your Kommissar has been pre-programmed with the coordinates outside what appears on scans to be their largest city, presumably where New York City would have been. If there's a version of us down there, it's the best and first place to start."

"So just fly down there, walk around on the surface and ask people 'Excuse me, do you know Rod Patternik?' I just don't think it'll fly."

'The Doctor rolled his eyes. "If I've learned one thing about this venture Rod, it's that you need to follow your own instincts. They led you here. They led me here, and you perceive me as at least a more intelligent and rational version of you, correct?"

'I froze, in the realization he was right. He continued. "If I was willing to follow you here, Matilda Terenstry, and all of our world uniting behind you, isn't that enough to compel you to try? Or at least to strive to try?"

'I don't even know what my excuse was anymore. "Please Rod go to the main bay. Your Kommissar has been loaded with two Komm-bots which possess neural connection abilities to you. They will act in Phasic-mode and will not be deactivated unless you specify. I will also be monitoring you from both of them, but you yourself will be in control. Use your instincts. Use the bracelet. Find this Rod-662 or whoever might know him."

'I turned away from the Doctor, and out of the pressure door. I had realized also while walking down the corridor, that his points had been valid all along. I always ran from problems, even when I had all the answers to anything I needed at my disposal. Whatever seemed to make me comfortable, I didn't want. Even if I did at first, or at least felt the inkling that I did. It was this urge, this anger within. Just to get away, for no reason. Being trapped on earth before PTEKK or the Doctor didn't help, but even being off earth and into a new dimension felt like just another trap. I could just never seem to get away, and would hide when I knew I could. It made me feel uncomfortable Diary3.0, but it was a feeling that didn't go away, no matter where I went.'

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'We had walked for months, myself and the izula ukuhlanya. All of them like me, lost family, friends, neighbors, husbands, wives, in the SOLSA attack. The outer colonies and homes of the Eastern and Southern tribes were not spared, and the refugees funneled Northward after the second onslaught. The first wave had been driven off, and I had been ushered to the Circle of Elders, and had been given a rank and feather of Colonel. Only days earlier, I was merely a warrior, a molt of plumage in the iViyo defending New Khayelitsha Central. I had always wanted to be a warrior, but the battles were long gone, and my tribe focused on trifles. Cattle raiding, servant bartering and honor exchanges were all tribes did since the time of the pilgrimage, when Zulu warriors set foot on this land long before I was bore. I admit, I longed for combat, true and bold. But this is not what I wanted, and I now bite my tongue in shame.'

'The izula ukuhlanya, the 'insane nomads' dye themselves in black and blue. Their souls and spirits bruised and battered though their skin may not show it. The paint is a tribal custom which dates back many centuries. When applied, and a new bond is made within this new iViyo, one which did not see combat. It is a mark of shame, of self woe and anguish. We were destined, or pushed by our elders who saw it fit, to walk the earth, averting our gazes at children and passersby, who would do the same. We were to reflect in silence, and all tribesmen sang a deep melody, a crushing wane whenever we would pass. It was supposed to symbolize the recognition of the isolation of who walked before them, and their spirit guides who walked behind them in tow, as comfort and yoke to their minds and wills. A moan meant to appease the spirits who haunt us away, that we may walk among the living once more. At least is legend. When heard it sounded like this: '

'OoooooooWoooooooooHooooooOOOoooooo' deep and resonant, and would repeat. There were children we had just passed herding tending to sheep who had done so, as is custom. Thinking of my wife when we passed to their hum, made it only worse. None within the izula ukuhlanya were permitted to speak, as was also custom. We were merely met to accompany one another in the march, the walk of introspection and the division of the darkness over the light. The isolation, the feeling of being so alone and neglected by even my world. It made me want to lash out and end it all. I could not punish my companions or even the citizens I passed, but I could damage myself or remove myself from this world. But that was also custom. There were only two ways to repeal the verdict of council. To either accept the fate of this exile until I went mad, or when I had overcome my demons with the aid of my own strength, or the silent help of my companions.'

'We walked, we did not run. Aimless we were in spirit, and thus aimless in stride and direction we went. There was no leader, as there were only representatives. Regardless of being mentally capable, or aware of ones self, this truly was punishment. My companions may have been fellow warriors, or perhaps tradesmen. Servants were not permitted into the izula ukuhlanya, and the treatment of their ill was far worse than exile. We were sent away because we were not understood and could not be helped with anything available. We were an embarrassment.'

'This exile to the Circle of Elders time and true, was also seen as a tool, or a guide of courage or strength. Many elders in the past had walked much as I had, and had managed to overcome their inner demons and tainted ways. Many others had simply died, or stopped walking, only to fall on their own spears. We each had our own, at the ready. It was required that we always carry them in hand, never to drop them, as a test of will and continuous strife. I knew all the customs, as many of us already did. Being inducted into the Circle of Elders, was just as mystical as being exiled to the izula ukuhlanya. Both were kept out of the eyes and ears of the tribe, and both had their own secret cultures. A hushed perspective was born from seeing these differences in the myths and rumors of my society and world. Even this could not stop the effect of an individual. As I passed, some would not moan the customary hymnal, and would instead whisper to others who were, clucking their tongue in wide-eyed awe at who I was. I would clench my eyes and keep walking. It seemed like years in that passing, though it hadn't even been.'

'Some within this sect had walked for decades, perhaps one for a century. All of the ranks were old warriors, I was the youngest among them. These men and women, all of them had lost family in the attacks, and had not the capacity to fight. Their time it to fight it seemed had passed, and their honor and respect for doing so long lapsed. Many of them seemed to know the one or more of the elders from long ago, either serving alongside them or knowing their upbringing. It was clear upon their observation of our departure from the Center Square outside the Halls of the Elder Magistrate. Judgment, was something reserved only for the higher ranked in our society, and our capacity had been removed by high decree. Thus is custom.'

'I have tried to forget her. Lindiwe. Long did I know her, and short time did I have with her. My urge to join in the repelling of SOLSA had taken hold of me, and because of my desire to pander to the tribe, and to the will of the Elders and god, I had lost her. Taken from me, and her family during the second SOLSA strike, one which I could not prevent. They did not strike with armies, or the mechanical monsters which had come previous. They attacked cowardly, more so than before. They struck us from the orbit of our world, raining down upon us bombardments and toxic sprays. They adverse effects of this were similar to what had been seen by the Elders after the first attack; brutal burns and internal chemical damage. But the scores killed had done little to avenge us against SOLSA. After the bombardment, the ship vanished. Disappeared in an act of cowardice, leaving a wake of destruction which had torn my society and my life to pieces.'

'We had long since been within New Khayelitsha, having headed Southwest to the Great Southern Gulf. We walked aimlessly, until a wind guided us elsewhere. There was a strange wind that seemed to send us south, and we followed its path with it blowing at our backs. It was a strange sign, as most winds would blow us eastward and then southward. This was a strange current indeed, but custom would dictate, that we would follow the wills of the earth and winds, the tools of god's method to convey wisdom. That would come in the form of a strange man, a man I had seen before.'

'He strode to us, from the distance, after we had walked with the wind at our backs for many miles and hours. In an open field, dusty with dry soil, we met. His presence and his stature was that exactly that of the vision I remember, after the first SOLSA attack. He wore a strange white blanket around him with sleeves, some elaborate tunic. He had a thin brown mustache, and upstanding hair to match. He seemed confident in his stride, staring straight ahead at us approaching through a small whirlwind. His hand was wide and extended approaching and said to me, quite self-assured:'

"Hello! I am you, and you are me! Before you get estranged or even confused, I'd just like to say how wonderful it is to see you!"

'I was certain, what stood before me, was merely another vision. Another ploy perhaps, of this enemy we had encountered known only as SOLSA.'

"Is this some kind of trick? Some of kind spell?" I said. All of the izula ukuhlanya stopped in their tracks. It did not matter that they too saw the Doctor before them, which they did. I had broken a tribal law. A member of the izula ukuhlanya does not speak until otherwise relieved by the Elders of having been cured. It is custom, and I did not realize I had broken it until I had spoken it. But the Doctor, or umThakathi as I knew him in my tongue, paused, then spoke.'

"Uh...No tricks here friend, we're one in the same you and I!"

"The same? You look awfully different than me." I said. He started looking me up and down, smiling.'

"Well we're not all that different, we're both humans right?"

"Human? You mean Terran?"

"Terran?...Oh I see. You refer to yourselves as Terrans here as opposed to humans. How fascinating!"

'He paused between each of my words and questions, reading my face and those of the izula ukuhlanya. I was not certain if he was toying with us or not. "I have seen you before. But not here, in this world. In a dream."

"Exactly! The first time I saw you was right after...the initial SOLSA attack on your planet correct?"

'SOLSA being uttered, caused the line of warriors at my back to quake. The wind still howled at their back, pushing them forward at this umThakathi, the Doctor. They did not strike him, they did not mutter, but their amaKlwa met his throat without a word, and he peeled back in terror. "You are aligned with SOLSA? You know of our enemy?" I spoke again. I was not going to remain silent, when this dream had come, this vision made real. The 'Doctor', looked frightened.'

"Please! I don't mean any of you harm! I do know of your enemy, SOLSA. They too attacked the world of another one of us. Another Rodd-iite."

'I glared at him. "What do you mean, Rodd-iite?" I asked, my bleary-eyed companions at the ready. He had paused again, gazing at me with a surprised expression.'

"You are the one known as Rod correct? Or similar to that in some degree?"

"I am RhadNhe, Son of NnNnGhane, of the Great Northern Tribe. I know of you from a vision, a vision which was a prelude to a second attack. An attack which cost my people much of our world and their strength to fight. I will only ask you this once vision made real, umThakathi; Where is SOLSA?" My entire iViyo had encircled him now, and he noticed this.'

"Please, I don't mean you any harm. I do not know where SOLSA is. My world is at war with them as well, and I have come to track them, and destroy them. I have tracked them here, to this universe, where I have come to make contact with you. Using a scanning technique on this device which was designed in my universe, I have compared an inlay of my genetic makeup, to specifically track where another version of myself, of this universe, would be. This device also is capable of allowing me to speak to you in your language, or a derivative thereof. Am I coming through clearly enough?"

'I nodded, he was a strange one this, umThakathi. This made him smile, and he continued.'

"I'll prove my world had interaction with SOLSA itself. We besides sharing a likeness, share an enemy it seems. Observe, visions from my world's own dealings with this menace."

'On his wrist, was a silver branded circlet, which beamed lights and various information on a flat, and translucent Panel in front of our vision. It showed SOLSA engaging a world I had never known, a world which this Doctor apparently had come from. It showed a great aerial battle, with SOLSA itself being repelled and quickly vanquished. Watching this glowing with its vision was my iViyo, whose blades had fallen only to be transfixed by the device and what it showed. I too, was mystified. We had technology similar to this, but our culture was that of agriculture and earthen knowledge. To see the magnitude of what he had to offer at first, was incredible to behold. My world, I, was changed upon seeing him and that alone. But I had not been entirely honest to this point.'

'I had a vision, which I had not told to the Elders. They had given me instruction to enter the dream realm where I had first encountered the umThakathi, 'The Doctor'. But they would have seen this as an omen, of doom and despair, and that which a warrior could not exhibit and which no sensible leader would allow repeated. In this dream, I had been invited to speak at a platform, overlooking a large room with rows of seats. Behind me was a strange long curved flat sheet, with strange numbers and another language written all over it. I know that within the dream, there was a letter, which I was instructed to read by writing which said 'Read This', in my own tongue. Whether it was written to me, or by me, I am not certain. What I do know, is that the letter, which I recited towards the group in question, asked for help. Aid against SOLSA, long after they had since disappeared. This had happened while I was stationed on the outskirts of the city, long after the first attack had been repelled.'

'I had been awakened before finishing that speech in the dream, only to find that the former front lines which we had held steadfastly against their mechanical armies were being obliterated. I barely made it within the depths of our bunker as the forests around us were scorched to cinders. A series of beams from space, light in nature, boiling the earth around us. I could hear the screams from outside muffled by the waves of magma and mud. The bunkers themselves have deep tunnels that span below all of New Khayelitsha, and the few of us who survived managed to make it to the city's central burrow, deep under the main Magistrate. I had been promoted before this had happened, to Grand iNikosi of the Storm Bull iViyo, the Circle of Elder's primary defense. But I had failed to assuage the damage done by SOLSA, or to save Lindiwe. This is how I found myself here, on the Dusty Plains of the Great Southern Gulf. My iViyo was still watching the visions from his circlet, but I wanted to know more. "You have bested SOLSA with your technology?"

"Yes actually. We did lose a few citizens of our world...and...excuse me...their impact was certainly intense enough that we rallied to victory and drove them from our orbit and universe. We used their technology to find them, and track their movements here, as I had mentioned."

'He was being deceitful. "These flying vehicles from your world, they look like that of SOLSA's..." I said slowly, with many of the iViyo looking away from the screen now, like me, glaring at this vision come real. I extended my hand outwards, the warriors knowing my rank from our prior lives, their blades drawn low. He raised his hand, without the circlet, again implying no harm.'

"I come to you as allies against a common foe, and if time would allow, trade partners. Friends from a new dimension and space. Our technology is one similar to that of SOLSA, but...their technology was captured early on, and reverse engineered by our world's scientists. We had the capacity through scientific breakthroughs to mimic, and recreate their energy sources, weapons, and even their vehicles."

"And yet you come to me in a vision, and lull me a time later into a dream state where I witness the deaths of millions of my own people? At the hands of a strange enemy that fights cowardly from space above?" His expression grew tense, as mine was flexing with anger. SOLSA had obliterated much of my tribe, and the other tribes of the Great Western Nations. I knew he had a hand it in somehow, or knew more than he let on. His resemblance to me was uncanny, aside from my tribal markings and clothing. It was like looking at a side of me that was new, but one that I did not trust.'

"I cannot explain your vision, and I cannot explain your dream state. I also cannot explain how SOLSA has chosen to come here, or has targeted either of our worlds. There is one like you who can...you have the choice to meet him, if you'd like. I ask you to draw no further, or I will be forced to defend myself."

'In the blink of an eye, two of the larger mechanical monsters appeared behind him. All of the warriors reacted, and I was almost helpless to overpower them as I stood at the peak of their rage. They wanted this Doctor's blood, because of the mechanical monsters. But they had not attacked, and the Doctor's hands were still up in acceptance. He meant no strife and no struggle, and the iViyo no matter how enraged, must be shown that by example. I turned with my back again to them, and the wind, and asked the Doctor "You come to my world, and ask for our help, my help, and bring those monsters with you? Those creatures?"

"I don't...understand, wait, when SOLSA first attacked, they used Komm-Bots, like these here?"

"Yes. They ravaged my home of New Khayelitsha, and many of the tribes across this land that we walk. Many of the tribes across the seas have not been in reach with our methods of communication. All of the people you see here, this iViyo, lost someone in the lives, to what you call, Komm-Bots, those creatures there. Many others lost their lives to their flying vehicles, and from their beams from space."

"Beams from space...? Can you elaborate on this all if you wouldn't min-"

'I had lost patience. Warriors too, have limits of patience. "Whoever you are, and whatever you have done to me to draw SOLSA here, you are to blame. You use the same, Komm-Bots. I cannot believe you did not draw them here, or aren't somehow in league with them."

"Rod...if I can call you that, I know it...sounds strange to both of us. SOLSA attacked my world too, and probably many others. This technology was reverse engineered by-"

"You can't lie to me any longer" I yelled, drawing nearer to him. His Komm-Bots, or whatever he called them merely merged closer together towards him, sensing that I intended him harm. I wanted to attack him right then and there, I truly did. Especially after what was to come. "Tell me where you got these weapons? SOLSA's mechanical monsters were decrepit, and did not have the same capacity as yours seem to. They were broken, and thrown together into a caterpillar form which killed many of my friends."

"Caterpillars form? The Komm-Bots...I do remember...I mean, don't you remember making mention of that? In any form whatsoever?"

'He gave me pause, and I thought for a moment. Thinking is something I hadn't done for so long, and I had grown accustomed to simply running with the herd. I was an outcast now, a forgotten calf. I had home to speak of, no ties to this earthly realm. Not after the dream that I had. Not after what I had seen, no matter how bizarre or strange. He continued.'

"If I may...I recall from the dream, or a dream where you gave an impassioned speech. Asking for aid against the legions of SOLSA. I was there, I heard it! Others did too, and if we...or...I, found a way to reach you, then it's only a matter of time until we can find them! And rid our worlds of SOLSA, once and for all!"

'I had thought about this vision come reality, and what it spoke of and what I could only subtly remember. He knew me, and appeared as me...but clearly was not. But he and I shared, as he said, 'a common foe.' If he truly was against SOLSA, and had the ability to destroy them, I wanted to help. But it wouldn't be enough. "I will help you."

"Excellent!"

"On a few conditions." This seemed to make him sulk. I wasn't going to simply sign myself over to a vision I had seen still beyond my understanding. But seeing this, Doctor, and how much he resembled me and knew how the worlds and the universes seemed to function, made my guilt fade. It made my anguish lighter, and my anger quiet.'

"What must I do to convince you that we need your help?"

"First, if your powers are so vast and great, I want you to use this technology you wield to aid my people. They have suffered under the mechanical will of SOLSA, and it should not linger."

"Well...yes sharing technology wouldn't be out of the question at all. But we'll sort that out later-"

"No! You wish me to aid your quest against SOLSA, after you use their own technology on this soil that they themselves have tainted. You will help my world as I will help yours. But there is one more thing which I require before being willing to, merge, with your mission."

"Which is?"

'I turned to the warrior closest to me, whose name I had not known. It was custom for izula ukuhlanya to not speak, and I had chosen to disregard custom, but I tasked him with a defiant undertaking. "You must speak on my behalf, to the Council of Diviners." I turned back to the Doctor, and elaborated for his sake. "I have been exiled, and will not be favorably looked upon by my people, until I have overcome my inner demons, and quelled the growth of SOLSA forever. This makes my quest more attainable, with your help, but without the help of the Elders, any technology, or effort we wish to make here would be in vain." I turned back to my fellow tribesman, grayed and weathered by age. "You must inform them, for the good of our people." The mute warrior nodded, rushing off along the road into the wind, back to New Khayelitsha. The Doctor overheard what I had said.'

"I see. Well, allow me to bring down some additional transport."

'He tapped a button on his circlet's screen. Just then, one of the flying machines appeared over the horizon. The Doctor held his hands up, still wide in peace, as his ship landed on the ground behind him and his Komm-Bots. The last time we had seen one, it under the control of SOLSA.'

"This is called a Kommissar. It's the vessel I used to come to the surface with these Komm-Bots, which act under my own control. I have many others aboard including a larger vessel capable of taking us all aboard my ship at once."

"Your ship? You mean you too have one of those, those, things that SOLSA uses?"

"It was created specifically to defeat SOLSA...the design itself was supposed to be stronger for combat purposes."

'He was still being dishonest. Perhaps it was something of himself that I saw in me, not just through resemblance. I had been dishonest with myself regarding many things. The truth, my dreams, feelings. But seeing them before me, in the form of a strange vision, was something I could not ignore. Walk away from. Fade from.'

"When can we leave, to speak to your Elders I mean?"

'Dishonest or not, I had to take a chance. I looked back along the dusty road, seeing only a glimpse of the nameless voiceless warrior carrying our message. "I think the Elders will learn of our quest shortly. As for us, I only hope you brought another craft larger to carry us up."

"Us?"

'I turned to my iViyo. All of them had overheard his translated conversation. Some were watching the warrior run back to the capital, envious at his task. Most, saw the Doctor, and knew a difference between his worlds technology and that of SOLSA's. None wanted to speak, but their faces, through their painted grief said more than was needed. "All of us here. We're all going." I could see this pleased the Doctor, as he smiled with his two mechanical warriors chirping at his blinks and nods.'

"Allow me...one moment, and I'll have the larger ship disembark for the surface to ferry you all up to the ship. Did any of you have anyone you wished to say goodbye to?"

'I shook my head at this. "None of us have anything left. We left this world when it left us." This didn't please the Doctor, who cleared his throat and was silent until a larger vessel, similar to his Kommissars, descended from a speck above to the earth, a small opening peeling open which the Doctor entered. He motioned for us to follow, as his Komm-Bots themselves crept into another in the rear of the vessel, disappearing inside. We followed inward, to a small room with many seats along the walls. There was a small seat in the front center, which the Doctor himself had laid upon.'

"Everyone in?"

'I looked around, and all but the mute warrior I had sent were present. They did not look frightened, or tense, even when the circumstances should permit as of then. In their eyes was a glaze of morning, of suffering, but within their gaze itself was a spark, of newness, of redemption. This Doctor gave to them, what he had given to me; Hope. A chance, and only that alone was needed. My will, and the wills of those I saw around me that moment, were enough to turn the tide in our favor in my eyes. They too, when looking upon me, saw it within me, a bond strengthened and firm.'

"Let us go. Our world will come to know of our victory, should we succeed." The Doctor nodded, and the openings along the walls of the vessel sealed themselves, and I felt a lift from beneath that took me off guard. I had traveled on sailing vessels, but never on a flying one, let alone one destined for space. But I ask this of you, whoever should listen to and find this, this Diary2.0, whatever this device is for on...his world, be warned. He lies, and has lied to destroy us. To destroy us all. SOLSA is a monster, one that came to be in ways that I cannot explain. I am not the umThakathi, the Doctor. Or this 285, his lapdog. Such things are beyond my understanding, and that of my world.'

'I have tasked an Elder scribe, to detail this log and diary, as well as the information of my world and the worlds we have encountered, including that of Rod 285 and even this Doctor. I do this, because of something I have seen, in a dream much like I had before. In this dream, I see myself from afar in the Rodd-iite Brotherhood chamber, depositing a scroll, much like the one being created now, onto the alter of wood at the front. I have seen one in my vision, a vision I saw just as the final conflict, the Grand Crusade began. She is the one, the one who can stop this. By keeping this scroll, and memorizing all that I have seen, should I enter this dream realm again, I shall deposit this in any form I can, to deliver this message to whomever it was. If she should find this, whomever you are, you are the key to the Grand Crusade, and can prevent this from occurring. I only hope, this finds you before it's too late, however it may.'

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23.

Nordius Prime Main Computer

_Translation Filters:_ _Zulu, Bantu, Xhosa, English (phonetic)_

_Subject:_ _Official 'Scroll' Transcript of the amaBandla izAngoma (The Tribal Council of Diviners)_

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<Grand Diviner>"On the eve of the seventh moon in the Rooting Cycle of Waning Moon, we call this communing to order, of the Tribal Council of Diviners. A warrior has come from the outskirts of the Great Northern Tribe's hold. A member of the outcast, the izula ukuhlanya, wishes to speak, urged by the words of RhadNhe Ifu-IngaNe, son of NnNnGhane. Unnamed warrior, do not speak, but come forth to the circle."

<Grand Diviner>"By word of this council, and by word of our tribal custom, before such words are heard, be it known that the authorization to speak comes at the behest of the Council of Diviners seeking the words of the Grand iNikosi himself. You warrior, who will remain unidentified, as is custom will-"

<EddnGhar>'No.'

<Grand Diviner><center Diviner pounds staff>"The warrior's tongue will be still!"

<EddnGhar>'No! It cannot be stilled! While I speak dishonorably, I have honorably come, to deliver a message to the Council of Diviners of the Great Northern Tribe. To deliver this message alone, required me to break the custom of our tribe, of the izula ukuhlanya, and of self-isolation.'

<Grand Diviner>"On what grounds, asks the Council?"

<EddnGhar>'On the grounds of the preservation of our race and world. The message was spoken, by the voice of the Grand iNikosi himself, of a vision made real, of the one he called umThakathi, the Doctor.'

<whispers throughout chamber, center Diviner pounds staff>

<Grand Diviner>"The chamber will be still! The Tribal Council recognizes this name, this 'Doctor', as a vision of the Grand iNikosi, RhadNhe Infu-InagaNe. This vision was the invocation of knowledge, gained by RhadNhe himself in spiritual transit and harmony. The Council, lifts the yoke of silence from your neck, abating your suffering so that you deliver the message of the Grand iNikosi, and his whereabouts."

<EddnGhar>'I am EddnGhar, son of UntNhka. I am of the Southern Nations, and I am of the izula ukuhlanya. I have come many miles, and many an hour, from the Plains of the Great Southern Gulf to the southwest from here. I have merely come to relay a message, a custom broken for the sake of our people, our tribe, and all of our world.'

<whispers>

<Grand Diviner>"The chamber will be silent!...EddnGhar, of the izula ukuhlanya, while not of our tribe, your voice in these chambers is true and just, regardless of your yoke of silence, and of your retention to the izula ukuhlanya. The Council wishes to know the message you bring, and under what pretense it was given."

<EddnGhar>'The message, was merely that. A notice, tasked to me to delivery, which the Grand iNikosi himself wishes to convey.'

<Grand Diviner>"And what of this message? What does this notice entail?"

<EddnGhar>'That his words, or that a revelation which has taken place, with mine own eyes as witness. The one he knew, and had identified with to the Council of Elders so long ago, the umThakathi. The Grand iNikosi's vision has come real, and when I turned after running far from them with this message, I could see that a great vessel had taken them all to the sky. I offer these words, this notice, coming under the instruction of the Grand iNikosi himself. He has said that he will deliver a message to the Council of Diviners, you yourselves, upon the first opportunity he has. He-'

<whispers from the rear of the chamber, Diviner pounds staff>

<Grand Diviner>"This chamber has dealt with too many interruptions this day!"

<EddnGhar>'Council of Diviners, the message to which I spoke, delivered.'

<Grand Diviner>"Here? Now? What is that device that the messenger carries. Speak messenger, what is that you have brought."

<Messenger of the Outer Halls>'Council, intrusion permitting, this device was delivered outside the city walls by what looked like a SOLSA craft.'

<Grand Diviner><rear of chamber whispers> "SOLSA? Here?"

<EddnGhar>'Diviner of the Council, please, I ask you to relent for but a moment. This message, this device must be a message from the Grand iNikosi. From RhadNhe Ifu-IngaNe.'

<whispers, Diviner pounds staff>

<Grand Diviner>"Enough!...Bring forth this device. This...how is this pronounced?"

<Messenger of the Outer Halls>'From the wording and translation, it would sound like it's pronounced as Diary2.0. It is a message delivery system, in the form of the device, which it itself calls, a robot.'

<Grand Diviner>"Robot? Strange words of a stranger world. We must know this message, the words of the Grand iNikosi himself. EddnGhar you will remain, and your tongue will be stilled until the Council deems fit."

<EddnGhar>'I serve the tribes of Terra, I will obey.'

<Grand Diviner>"Very Well. Messenger of the Outer Halls, bring forth this device. Bring forth this Diary2.0, and the message within."

'Scroll' transcript ends (additional text from transcript ID#44566-6965B).

Saved to Internal Memory > Documents.

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'I had tried to get 662, or RhadNhe, and his Zulu friends to not get jittery on the ride back up to Nordius Prime. We were climbing at high velocity and speed, and yet the most tense they became was when the noise around the shield abated upon clearing their earth's atmosphere. Even Rod 662 was unsure what had happened, since these Zulu warriors and their entire planet had yet to even set foot into outer space.'

"What was that noise, the noise which has now stopped?" a confused 662 asked me in broken and Panel-translated English. It was so strange that he even looked like me, but was completely incapable of understanding even the slightest of what was occurring. It's incredible that my universe, in all its technological prowess, was at the same level of development and set in the same time as this Zulu-verse, this 662's universe. Even more incredible, he still thought I was the Doctor. This bracelet Diary3.0, truly is amazing.'

"Nothing. It was what's known as an atmosphere. It's something that protects the planet while also making it harder to leave."

"How does this, at-moss-fear, protect Terra? My world?"

'I was stumped. Though I still resembled the Doctor, I couldn't answer his question. "Uh...It's complicated." I said.'

"Complee-kated? Ah I see according to your Panel, as in difficult to understand. Why is it so difficult to understand?"

'I was lost now to find an excuse. Between piloting the Kommissar Cargo model ferrying 662 and his warrior cadre aboard, and trying to explain to the real Doctor how I couldn't dissuade a pack of angry Zulu tribesmen from boarding our ship, I couldn't answer 662's questions. I didn't even know why the sky on my earth was blue. "I'll answer your questions when we have gotten back aboard the ship."

'He pointed past me on the larger cockpit green screen. "That ship?"

'His finger pointed straight, in high orbit over his world. Through the rising sun, he made out the structure and shape of the craft, his fascination soon turning to gloom. "So that is the ship that is like SOLSA's? That is the ship we will use to defeat them?"

"Very much so, that has already managed to get us here, and it was designed to fight against SOLSA."

'I could feel his distrusting glare. "Designed by SOLSA?"

'I knew I couldn't keep up the act for much longer. The Doctor himself had a better chance of persuading 662 of the truth, far better than I did. Besides, the Doctor had been in contact with me on the planet through the sub-vocal ear device he had given me so long ago. Its vibrations delivered his various opinions and quips, allowing me to properly disavow any information that would have lead 662 to believe that we had made the technology well before SOLSA had been discovered, and that we had learned how to get to their universe, but accidentally luring SOLSA to their world. I could feel a vibration in my ear, with our craft closing in on the Main Bay of Nordius Prime.'

"We...do not know where SOLSA came across the designs, or even what they look like. Judging by the instruments and the method the craft was constructed based upon our video footage during the attack, it's quite possible they could be human beings." I said. The Doctor's comments had come just in time in my ear, enough to leave Rod 662 nodding his head in acceptance. We drew closer and closer to the Bay Doors, and I hadn't realized just how big Nordius Prime really was. The Zulu warriors whispered among themselves, from what I had learned was one of the first times many of them had uttered a word in years. 662's 'Zulu'-verse was a strange one. The Bay Doors themselves had vented open, revealing the same crane arm that I had seen before. It clutched our vessel, amidst gawking and gasping from the warriors, and folded us into the Docking Chamber with the outer doors sealing behind.'

'As we walked up through the hallway towards the main deck, or the Doctor's 'Living Room' as I had come to know it, I felt another quiver in my eardrum. 'Go into the bathroom to the right, and let Rod 662 and the Zulu warriors enter the main bridge area first.' This was obviously the Doctor, and his last instructions for me after we had docked and boarded.'

"RhadNhe, Zulu-warriors, if you don't mind I must use the bathroom."

'662 looked confused. "You require bathing? You hardly look that filthy."

'I couldn't help but sigh. I was starting to understand how the Doctor felt when addressing me. "It's an expression, I have to use the toilet."

'His face was clenched now, grasping to understand. "...Toy...let?"

'I was speechless. I was genuinely hoping that his civilization was aware of what indoor plumbing was. Toilet-training a clock of Zulu-Warriors was not an enlightening prospect. "You know...when you have to...go...?" I said, making a universal gesture related to urination. His eyes immediately brightened.'

"Ah! Ha ha ha ha! iTholethe! I see! Shall we await your completion?"

"What the- Jesus!...I mean...No, just...walk straight forward in front of you. That door will open, and inside you'll find the main deck of the ship itself." The Doctor's crooned through my eardrum to remind them to not touch anything. "Any don't touch anything! I'll be there shortly."

'Rod 662 nodded, and he and his warriors began to walk through the automated door, but one. He stood firm, and almost entirely statuesque before the bathroom's pressure doorway. 662 noticed before I had.'

"Why do you wait?" Rod 662 asked his Zulu companion.'

'The warrior's weathered whiskered face seemed twisted. "I too must...go."

'I put my palm over my face, as 662 almost bubbled over. "Have you not heard the words of the umThakathi? We are to await him in the main hall through that door. Apologies umThakathi, Doctor, this warrior is frail and old. We will await you in the main chamber of this vessel." he said, turning apologetically. The warrior too looked ashamed, that he had offended a host which a ranking member of his own world considered a deity. They both humbly bowed, walking through the pressure door before it whirred closed. I had turned to the bathroom door, another pressure door, just as the bridge door had closed, when it opened on its own. Two white-jacketed hands dragged me into the bathroom, one yanking off the silver bracelet, revealing my actual form. It was the Doctor, and he looked upset. He slid the bracelet around his own wrist, glaring at me intensely.'

"I thought I had made it abundantly clear that we were only to include Rod 662, this Rod of your own dreams?"

'I was frustrated. I had spent the entire past hour being berated with spears and simple questions I couldn't answer. "I didn't have the opportunity to get him alone."

"What? How hard would it be to appear right next to him when he's isolated from his group?"

"You don't understand. He and those other warriors are nomads, or homeless it seems."

"Homeless?"

"He was exiled, or something. From his city, the one you had sent me to scan. Mainly because SOLSA was here. Because of us."

'The Doctor's expression turned grave in the shadow of the pulsing neon bulb lining the bathroom. "So...SOLSA was already here..."

'I nodded. "According to 662 they approached in two attacks. One which I had mentioned before from my dream. But this other attack..."

"Yes?"

"It seemed like...well, it seemed like a good portion of 662's society had been destroyed. Swaths of land were scorched and from above the damage looked significant."

'The Doctor paused. "And 662. How did he seem?"

'I couldn't tell, since I barely knew RhadNhe, or 662 as we'd come to know him. "He's stern in appearance. Rough, though he tries, even to speak our language. English it seemed, existed here at some point but is now a dead language in this universe. Still he's a rock. A Zulu warrior in every capacity that I would have expected."

'The Doctor's expression brightened. "Covered in tiger and zebra skins was he?"

'I shook my head, which seemed to disappoint the Doctor. "No?" he asked.'

"He was wearing what seemed like a cougar pelt, gray and black fur. But he also apparently was wearing denim, which is beyond me since it's not exactly a common item in this universe."

'The Doctor clucked his tongue at me. He always tended to do that when I was being opinionated, or if it seemed like I wasn't thinking. "An agrarian society like the Zulus would have had would be the ideal setting for the creation of denim. It was probably created in this universe hundreds of years ago when your world was first understanding rudimentary mathematics." he said. He had a point. "All times, places, and dimensions appear, at least from what I've seen, to work under their own orbits."

"Really? Like a planet would?"

'The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Well...I'm not entirely certain, but the model that I have been constructing to track the SOLSA seems to suggest it. Or at least seems to suggest that the time variance between dimensions is skewed from calculable odds. Needless to say, I'd have never imagined a 'Zulu'-verse in my life, it's incredible to even know that it exists. To be perfectly frank, I wish I had gone there myself, but it would have endangered 662's recruitment if I, well you, couldn't be the exact image of what he had seen, or appeared as such." I found myself growing more and more intrigued with what the Doctor knew about all this, even if he was struggling to comprehend this new illogical logic for himself.'

"So quickly, what do you know of this group, this izula ukuhlanya?" he asked.'

'I snapped back "The...what?"

'The Doctor groaned. "The other warriors 662 was with? Who are they?"

"Oh them. 662 was with them as some kind of tribal march, or exile I think he said."

"Exile?" his mustache furrowed. "Our 662 is a criminal?"

'I shook my head. "He doesn't seem the type, he's more formal and stoic than anything. Also, the other warriors he was with seemed to look to him. He didn't seem like their leader, but he was known of, or had a reputation that was deemed worthy in their eyes."

"And this...RhadNhe, or '662' to make things simpler. Is he the type you'd liken to making trouble?"

'I didn't know what to say. "I don't know him personally, I practically just met him. But he's like us, and was more upset that we were somehow affiliated with SOLSA."

'His expression tightened. "He doesn't...think we're affiliated with SOLSA...does he?"

"No, I made sure to repeat that we had taken all of SOLSA's technology upon fighting them."

'He blinked. "But you showed him the footage. The footage of the battle on your world, correct?"

'I nodded. "He still thinks that we gained the technology from SOLSA."

'The Doctor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Well that's reassuring. You must understand Rod that the first inkling I had of your arrival, involved seeing a large boarding party of Zulu warriors on my Panel while I was here, in the bathroom, er...reading."

'I lowered my gaze at him, evidently in disbelief. "Even the best of us can admit going to the bathroom Doctor Bandever."

'His brow tensed. "If you must know, the breakfast didn't sit well with me either, much the same as your sickness, yet opposite in direction." he muttered. I couldn't help but laugh. It was just comforting to know regardless of the power he wielded, he was still human. He was not amused.'

"Crude humor aside, you're positive that he believes that you were the Doctor that he mentioned in your dream?"

"Positive. At least I looked the part, but I'm hardly a scientist. I think he could tell, or that he's untrusting of me."

'He grimaced at this. "It didn't seem like you were doing too badly, at least according to what I could hear through the ear device. By the way, nice work at improvisation out there. I think you did a decent job pretending to be me, even if you're not a scientist." he added, smiling.'

'It felt good to be complimented, even if I knew otherwise. I couldn't answer a basic question about the atmosphere, even though the Doctor could hear it, and hadn't given me a response to go on. "Why didn't you tell me by the way?"

"Tell you what?"

"How the atmosphere of the planet works?"

'He giggled. "How else would I be able to prove that I was me and you weren't?"

'I was so confused. "I thought...that you wanted me to...what did you want me to do?"

"I told you, pretend to be me to get Rod 662 to board our ship. The best way as I mentioned was with your experience in your dream coupled with the bracelet's illusion effect. It was necessary Rod. And now, I'm going to enlighten him further; By illustrating you and I are completely different people, yet the same. As is he!" he exclaimed.'

'I paused, and folded my arms. "Do you think he can accept it?"

'Doctor Bandever smiled. "You did, didn't you?"

'I nodded. It was a valid point. He turned contently, and walked out of the bathroom, and stopped outside the main deck's pressure-sealed doorway. Clearing rehearsing his own and true introduction to Rod 662 and his Zulu followers, he finally took a deep breath and strode forward, it opening around him. As he walked through the doorway, he turned and motioned me inside. I emerged, and we both were met with the gazes of the Zulu's and Rod 662.'

"What is this trickery?" 662 stammered.'

"Please. Allow me to explain. The deception was necessary to persuade you to join us."

"Perr-swayed?" he stammered.'

'The Doctor glared at his Panel and then the bracelet. "One moment." he said, toying with the Panel. He had it set as Nordius Prime's main computer remote after I had borrowed his bracelet earlier. After squiggling some changes and tapping the Panel itself a few times, he stopped. "There, does my voice sound clearer now?"

'Rod 662 nodded comfortably. "Much better, I see you speak the words of my people."

'The Doctor shrugged. "Well not exactly. You see the devices I have here, such as the Panel and the computer system for this ship, can interpret your words, phrases, and phonetics, and compare them to a database of related languages."

"I understand now. What language is it that you commonly speak?"

"English." the Doctor and I both said in unison, looking at one another.'

'662 and his Zulu cohorts all laughed. "English? Your language is rarely spoken on my world, almost as faded as myth itself!"

'I felt somewhat insulted. "Same as Zulu on my earth." I said. Rod 662's shine towards me seemed to fade slightly.'

"Who is this one? This...us? And where have I seen you before?" he said, turning to the Doctor.'

'I knew where he had. He must have recognized me from the Rodd-iite dream. 662 squinted at me, while the Doctor began his attempt to explain.'

"RhadNhe, may I call you Rod?"

"If it suits you, then I shall allow it."

"Rod, the man you see before you, men, are both aspects of you. This Rod, known as 285, is from the universe where I came from, where I came to be."

"You mean...your universe? You both came from the same world?"

'The Doctor shook his head. "No, I arrived on his world quite by accident, in an event which I have yet to be able to explain or calculate, but one that I must replicate."

'This is something the Doctor had been reluctant to tell me. "Wait...what do you mean replicate?"

'He turned to me. "I'll explain that in good time, please." he turned back to 662, and took out his Panel, clicking and pointing on various points on its translucent screen. "We share a common enemy. You, 285, myself, all of us. It's a mutation, a monster from the future known only as SOLSA."

'The Zulu warriors hissed and whispered amongst themselves, while 662's stare on the Doctor remained unnerved. The Doctor went on. "SOLSA, is no doubt the greatest of our concerns. However, I'll admit to you, much as I did to 285, that I am responsible for SOLSA's introduction to this universe."

'I saw 662's gaze turn from wooden fascination to unbridled fury. He lunged at the Doctor who remained firm in his stance between the sofa. The Zulu warriors had managed to hold back 662, while the rest of them waved their weapons at us in defiance. The main deck was relatively small, so all that was holding back an outright conflict was a day-glo sofa. The Doctor, unhinged, went on.'

"I would not reveal this information to you if I did not find it necessary to do so. Know also Rod 662, that I would not have told you any of this, if I also did not have the capacity to defend myself. I know, especially after reviewing the damage to your world, and your own personal place within a group, destined for self-solace in misery, that SOLSA took much from your world. And your people. I cannot relate to you on this, as SOLSA did not attack my people, or my universe. They did not damage 285's world as much as they did yours, but there was a very good reason for that."

'I immediately thought of Kama, but Dr. Bandever thought differently. "It is because we possessed the technology before they did. That is how SOLSA came to be 662. That is how they exist now. It is because from my universe, my world, this technology was common and real. They are the byproduct of what is to come, from my interaction with Rod 285's universe from the start."

"But why? And how? You had the devices and creations before SOLSA came to be? What could create this monster from the technology you had then? Something that is to happen in the future?" he asked. He was a lot quicker than I was to pick up on things.'

'The Doctor nodded. "It's more than likely that an event occurs in the future which creates SOLSA itself. We, being Rod 285 and I, do now know when that event is, or in what universe it could take place. We're attempting to find out, by tracking the movements of SOLSA using our technology. We tracked them to your world, and this universe, after Rod 285 here, encountered you in a dream."

'662's vision on me narrowed. "I knew I had seen him before, this 285. I recall seeing him in the room where the Rodd-iites congregate." he extended a hand, a courtesy he hadn't reserved for the Doctor, or me on the surface masquerading as him. "It is an honor to know that you exist, and that our blood has traveled across the heavens and dimension, only to meet once more."

'I shook his hand. How could I not? It was as rare to do as meeting the Doctor himself. "The honor is mine. This is just as strange for me."

'He laughed, his Zulu friends nodding and smiling at me welcomingly. It's funny Diary3.0, when I imagined a 'Zulu'-verse, I figured that Rod 662 would be in Africa, or at least in another country. But his universe was so radically different, yet so incredibly similar, it was uncanny. All of the warriors that he brought, looked no different than the people I would pass on the street, or were normal people in my universe. 'Normal' in universes, was obviously only clothing deep. Or in 662's case, denim and pelt deep.'

'The Doctor cleared his throat, and 662's expression hardened. It seemed his trust and taste for the Doctor was anything but pleasant, and in retrospect he probably blamed the deaths of his people and love ones on him. It wasn't his fault, the Doctor's, at least from my own perspective. Even now Diary3.0, I'd still follow and do all the things he asked.'

"So can we come to rely upon you, Rod 662?"

'After a long pause, with his own warriors looking at him ponder, he eventually agreed. "Yes. While I am not complacent, or afraid of saying so, towards the Doctor's intentions, the fact that he has managed to recruit another like me, independent of the himself, to aid in this quest. It is how I know your intentions are genuine, and that our goals are shared as one!"

'There were grunts and eventually howls of jubilation from the Zulu warriors. Their culture long bred within them the idea of honor, the glory in battle, and the oneness of their people. Those who Rod 662 was with, the izula ukuhlanya, had been forgotten by his world, neglected. Even after their obvious and lasting service, to which they kindly submitted to even the greatest of unfairness; the behest of isolation from the tribes and lands they called home. In my universe, my life had gotten terrible because I had allowed it to. But Rod 662, and these other people hadn't even been given the second chance. All their valor, their courage, thrown away because of their unhappiness. Their sorrow that would not abate, that ebbed but did not flow away. Tidal emotion, the gravity of which cripples even the strongest of foundations. None of their structures survived the first blow, the realization that they truly had been cast aside. I could see it in all their eyes. They needed this fight. They longed and lusted for it. Not even the battle itself, but merely the chance. Rod 662, continued.'

"I assume then, that you wish me to inform my Council? The Council of Elders of the Great Northern Tribe?"

'The Doctor shook his head no, which gave 662 pause. "Why ever not?" he asked.'

"The aid of your society is something that we can ill afford. As I have already mentioned to Rod 285, we ourselves are more than look-alikes, you and myself as well." Dr. Bandever said, with Rod 662 grimacing at the thought. "Much as you dislike the notion, we ourselves are merely, alternate versions of one consciousness. One personality."

"Who's personality?" 662 asked, with his fellow warriors looming in curiously.'

'The Doctor paused for a moment, and then responded. "We do not know."

'I was about to make mention of the fact that the Doctor himself had told me that he came from a universe, but never mentioned that there was another which transcended even his own. As I was about to however, I heard the device ring within my eardrum. 'Do not speak. Do not make mention that I came from my own universe to yours. Do not contribute to further fluctuations that we cannot tabulate or permit.' I could not argue with the Doctor's thoughts, considering he had been right about what to do so far. I simply kept my mouth shut Diary3.0. It was probably still, even now, the best thing I could do.'

"So then, this SOLSA, could be almost anywhere, correct?" 662 asked.'

'The Doctor nodded again. "That is correct, but as I made mention, we are in the process of tracking SOLSA, even as we speak, to their next destination. Or what was their next destination."

'I was curious now. "Were you able to track them again like before? Like how we managed to track them here?"

'The Doctor smiled, producing with two taps on his Panel, the filtering tracking system which we had used before, the template to track SOLSA between their TransFlash uses. "If you'll make note, you'll see that the bubble created at the end of the exhaust path, generated by the SOLSA ship, illustrates that they have left your universe 662, and do not appear to have returned following the second attack."

'662's face clenched. "I wish they had."

"All in good time 662. After brief calculations done of course by the Nordius Prime computer, we should be able to match their dimensional trajectory."

"Which means?" asked 662.'

'The Doctor produced a shark-like grin. "It means that we'll be able to track exactly where they go, as we tracked them here, to your universe 662. We'll be that much closer to fulfilling all your desires; The blood of SOLSA." The Doctor made a friend instantly after that statement from 662. Or at least so I thought. Either way, it seemed that a bridge of understanding had been constructed between them, on the premise of the bloodshed of SOLSA. The Doctor, seemed to have reached the warriors fully. "Any additional questions?"

"I have many, but I'd like to know one for now"

"Ask away."

"Why am I known as Rod 662, and he is known as Rod 285? What is your designation?"

'The Doctor shrugged in classic fashion. "You should ask that of each other. I have no designation, and the only aspect I know of yours, is that it stems from a dream that both of you shared, and I did not. I resemble both of you in appearance and certain thoughts, yet we are so radically different as the result of a difference in dreaming. I am at a loss I'm afraid."

'662 looked at me, his lip quivered as though he wanted to speak, but could not fathom what to ask. I felt the same way every time I was around the Doctor. It was a general sensation that corresponded to his very presence. His gaze turned back to the Doctor. My questioning would wait for another time.'

"I see...so...we are to destroy SOLSA, correct?"

"Correct."

"And...you are not affiliated with SOLSA...correct?"

'The Doctor nodded. "Also correct."

'Rod 662 seemed pleased with the Doctor's sudden curtness. "I left my world, to come to this ship, to fight SOLSA. I do not wish to be made a puppet or a stooge of the will of anything that does not seek the same. My fellow warriors and I wish to be part of the force that topples SOLSA, and avenges my people."

'The Doctor, extended his hand with a bigger smile. "Your wish is my command."

'662 paused, smiled, and graciously shook the hand of the Doctor. It would appear any blame, or tension based upon perceived ties to our mutual enemy had fallen to the wayside. For now at least Diary3.0.

This didn't hinder the 'Grand iNikosi's' drive or questions though. He had a profound sense of curiosity and understanding that were absent in my world. Perhaps it was because I saw him doing this, and thus myself. Seeing this, this aspect of me before me that I hadn't even imagined, made me want to strive just as much. I felt less than this image, this ulterior me, for doing or being any less than him. To put it bluntly Diary3.0, Rod 662 should have been the one to encounter the Doctor first. None of this probably would have ever happened. 662, was more interested in other things at the moment.'

"I sent a warrior who was with us back to my tribal home of New Khayelitsha, to deliver a message to the Tribal Council of Diviners."

'The Doctor's mustache furrowed. "Council of Diviners?"

"Yes. It is an executive body of the Tribal Council of Elders itself, the highest and most prestigious arrangement of warriors, sages, craftsmen and herdsmen. Its purpose is to foretell the crop seasons, if they should be fruitful or scarce. They measure the declinations of the heavens themselves to make balance within our universe."

'I could tell this put the Doctor on edge. Being the type that was rooted in logic, much as he was trying to shake it, the ideals of 662's world seemed like a bit too much. At least for the Doctor. "That's quite fascinating, but you do have electronics and various other devices correct?"

'Rod 662 scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "We do possess adequate technology. Nothing as advanced as what I have come to see from the both of you, but we have the capacity to transmit messages along cables that propel on tree-trunks." His world's most advanced method of communication and delivery seemed to rival that of the 19th century. It was all too fascinating to think of, that his world was on the same plane of time as my own, yet our advancements and methods of living were so starkly differently, even if we looked the same. Rod 662, still had the capacity to understand new ideas and things, more than even I could have hoped.'

"Would it be possible to send a message to my world? Or to return to wish my people a fond farewell?" 662 asked. His warriors too, seemed interested that they could have a moment of their own as well, to say goodbye to the world they wished to save. The world that abandoned them.'

"Excuse me, RhadNhe." a voice from the back echoed. All faces including my own and the Doctor's turned to meet its origin. It was the weathered and frail warrior from before.'

"Yes weathered one?" 662 asked.'

"May I...May I go now?" he winced, his face clearly turning. 662 and I had completely forgotten that he had even been trying to use the bathroom since before the Doctor and I had our brief talk. Before anyone could say anything, the Doctor looked at me and said "Rod, well, Rod 285, would you mind showing our elderly warrior friend here where the ship's lavatory is?"

"Uh, sure." I said, leading him out towards the pressure door. As I walked out of the main deck's doorway, I could hear the Doctor say "Let's get this message to your world squared away. You can use this device, it's called a Diary2.0" he said before the pressure door whirred shut. The older warrior meanwhile, had retreated to the neon-bathed bathroom. I was considering going back into the main deck, to see what messages were being sent by 662 and his cronies back to his home-world, when I realized that I hadn't even spent time exploring the ship itself.'

'The hallway, the only one in our vessel, extended far with doors lining each side. It looked almost ominous with the dim lights on each side leading a path down the corridor. I was about to pursue it myself, to test all the locks on all the rooms for curiosity's sake, the sake of simply knowing, when the warrior re-emerged from the bathroom. His spirits clearly had brightened, even if the bark of his face masked it. We both walked through the pressure doorway of the main deck, to see that all of the warriors had broken their vows of silence and spiritual isolation. All of them were taking turns, passing around a Diary2.0, saying an individual piece and handing it right to the next warrior. Finally, after all the warriors had recorded on it, it floated to the weathered warrior, the one I had escorted to the bathroom who had missed the festivities. While the other warriors, the younger ones and even 662, had made long elaborate speeches into the Diary2.0 robot, the older warrior's words were simply this:'

"Ngoba-mi Inhlabathi. Ngoba-mi Umhlaba. Ngiyabonga. Salani kahle."

'This quelled the other warriors and their boisterousness. The frail warrior merely walked to the back of the pack of warriors, their reactions saying more to me than his indecipherable words. "What did he say? The computer wasn't able to translate it." I asked 662, hoping the Panel and Nordius Prime's computer were still working.'

'662's face was tightened, strained with emotion. "It is an older dialect of iZulu, the holiest of script. He said: "For my people. For my Earth. Thank you. Goodbye."

I felt moved, even now Diary3.0. I barely recognized the humanity in these warriors through their stained and filthy denim and hides. More so when I realized that only a few years prior I was just as rank, and probably considered equally as worthless in the eyes of my own people. The Doctor, took the warriors' reactions as a sign that they had finished using the Diary2.0. "I'll have a Kommissar deposit that on the surface. Is there anywhere particular I should send it?"

"There is a place...here, on your wall map of my world. That is my city, the home of my people. The city itself is called New Khayelitsha." 662 stated. "From there the, the Elders will spread word of our actions and deeds that will come. This device, is there a way that it can display a message, or have a particular message for a certain group?"

'The Doctor nodded. "I can have the Diary2.0 and the Kommissar itself be programmed specifically to inform a messenger to deliver it to whomever you'd like. I'm assuming of course that it's safe to do so?"

'662's eyes fell to the floor. "I am exiled among my people, as are all of the warriors you see before you. Your ship, the Kommissar you speak of, will be feared, as this Diary2.0 may be as well. The messenger, the warrior sent to include a message of our return or intentions, would expect something like this, and would attest to our intentions."

"Alright, I'll send it immediately. I'll be back in a few minutes and then we'll be disembarking." The Doctor walked off the main deck and down the hallway to the main bay as the pressure door closed behind him. The warriors themselves were still immersed in the technology and graphs of their world, and the Doctor was busy. I was curious too, about the weathered warrior, the one who was far older than all the others. I moved in closer to 662, who had been standing off from the rest of them.'

"Why was he exiled?" I whispered.'

"Hmm?" Rod 662 hummed.'

"Why was that warrior, the older one exiled? Driven out I guess you could say."

'Rod 662 turned to see where I was looking; at the frail warrior himself. He had seated himself on the ground of the main deck, with his back resting against the day-glo sofa facing the green screen. "He made a mistake."

"A mistake?"

'Rod 662 nodded. "He chose his own judgment over that of the better."

"How do you mean?"

"Long before there had been collaboration on our world, between tribes, there were mercenaries. Bandits, rapists and murderers."

'I looked hard at him "He...was a-"

"No." Rod 662 said firmly. "He was not. Your gaze has fallen upon one of the greatest warriors of the Great Northern Tribe. He himself sat on the inner circle of my people, the Circle of Elders itself, as a wearer of the iGwalagwala."

"The what?"

'Rod 662 stammered, trying to find the words. Nordius Prime's computer translator, while advanced, still could not make out certain terms. "It is a custom within my society, that the highest rank of warriors wear elaborate feathers and headdresses. You'll see that his is quite ornate."

'I looked and did notice, that his headdress in particular was very detailed and unique compared to the others worn by the warriors. The feathers were long greenish-black, and short purple-reddish plumes in bunches around the head, striped like an animal mane. "They look important, or at least are very colorful." I finally said.'

'Rod 662 smiled, clearly noting that while I was trying, his culture was still a mystery to me. "They are very important. Each of those feathers was earned by his service, by his actions alone. Each and every feather, represents a victory or an achievement." Rod 662 himself only had three feathers, and only one of them was greenish-black, one of the highest honors. This old frail man who needed help to find a bathroom, had clearly lived a life of honor and glory.'

"I don't understand. What mistake could he have possibly made that would have lead to exile?"

'662 paused, moving away from the Zulu warriors engrossed in the main deck's technology, and closer around the couch. He elaborated, cautiously. "Long ago, before my time, there was a great battle in the lawless lands, before the merging of the many tribes. Another great tribe, the Great Rocky Tribe, was battling a brutal tyrant of a man, known as UlmThwaka. Horrible and ruthless he was, commanding legions and slaughtering and plundering mercilessly. He was careless for a barbarian, as the Council of Elders of our tribe, discovered his treachery." he whispered. "It is not customary to speak the ills of our world publicly, but your world is different than ours, and your knowledge would be hindered without understanding."

'I nodded, looking about to see if anyone was paying attention. 'The Zulu warriors were busying themselves with the green screen and the graphs. 662 continued.'

"UlmThwaka gained attention from the Council of Elders, after he had massacred a trade convoy destined for the Great Rocky Tribe. At first the Elders believed that their council and people were responsible, until it was revealed that UlmThwaka had been terrorizing the people of the Great Rocky Tribe for some time. He was known to be subversive to all the tribes, and his own people were warriors, but of a different stature. Savage, and uncaring. Our Elders together with the Great Rocky Tribe's council, formulated a plan to eliminate UlmThwaka. It was the first step for both tribes, to lead to greater peace. The elder warrior you see there, was the second Grand iNikosi before me. The last died in the first SOLSA attack. He sat on the Council in its infancy, and is well known and regarded. And he was the warrior tasked with slaying UlmThwaka."

"Him?" I whispered, the Zulus and the frail warrior out of earshot.'

'662 nodded. "The fact that he is in the izula ukuhlanya, emboldens us, and weakens the council. They were fools to let him go, but it was his own error."

'I was still confused. 662's 'Zulu'-verse is still a mystery to me Diary3.0. "I don't understand. Did he fail his mission?"

'He let out a heavy sigh. "He stayed his hand, and allowed UlmThwaka's escape."

"But why?"

'662 stared off. "Sometimes." he whispered, "We can lose ourselves in what should be, based upon how we should feel to remember it. This happens, and sometimes should not. That warrior, who had seen the fields of combat against many tribes, fought SOLSA after he had entered izula ukuhlanya, could not strike down a man, a coward of a man, when draped with his own many daughters and harems, sobbing for him to be spared. Crying and moaning and thrashing their teeth over a beast. This warrior knew and still knows only the life of combat, and only that. He could not cut down a man who knew and brought love to many. Even if that was not true."

'This was of a depth I hadn't expected. "So, he was punished by the Council for letting UlmThwaka live?"

"Not exactly."

"I don't follow."

"He had told UlmThwaka and his mistresses to disappear into the North, and never bother the tribes again. He allowed them to live and stayed his hand." 662 gritted his teeth. "But people who know no value but to themselves will twist others to their own drives and desires. UlmThwaka had manipulated his women, his harems. They merely distracted the Grand iNikosi, and lulled him into thinking they would disappear, forced into submission by UlmThwaka using black muthi. Evil magic."

'I began to understand. "But they didn't...did they?"

'662's eyes slimmed, as the energetic activity of the Zulu warriors continued in the background. "UlmThwaka punished his harems. His disorder was more than spiritual, demon in nature. Desiring only to control and inflict the sorrow he felt. Sparing this monster was a grave mistake. He slaughtered many more than he had before, on both sides of our tribes. Even his own people who he thought to be spies. One of those slain was a family member of the Elders on the Great Rocky Tribe Council. The damage the Grand iNikosi had caused, by not inflicting it when circumstance had chosen and had willed it, caused much more. The scale had tipped and fallen."

'It was tragically unfair. "What became of UlmThwaka and his harems?"

'662 turned to me. "After the Great Rocky Tribe learned that the Grand iNikosi let UlmThwaka go free, formalities between our tribes became unsound. Our trade could not function, and our people grew leery of each other. Talk and rumor of war began, and the Elders knew that justice must be met, and immediately. They summoned the Grand iNikosi, who had not been aware that UlmThwaka had begun his tyranny again. When he learned of the murders, and the rapes of our own people at the hands of the man who he let free, he became enraged, swearing revenge. He disappeared that day, with the Elders assuring the Great Rocky's Tribal emissary that justice would be swift."

"And was it? Did he kill UlmThwaka?"

'662 nodded. "The Grand iNikosi returned with the head of UlmThwaka."

"That's incredible! He's a hero!" I accidentally belted, though nobody seemed to notice.'

"UlmThwaka's head, the heads of his royal guards, his family, his friends, his harems..." 662 trailed on. "He killed them all. All of them. He burned their thatches to the ground, razed and killed their oxen and horses, everything. One man, the Grand iNikosi, against UlmThwaka's four-thousand."

'My eyes widened right there Diary3.0. "Four-thousand?" I stammered. The warrior himself must have been in his late seventies then on the ship, or probably older.'

'662 nodded, his head hanging low. "He came back before the Elders with the heads of our enemies, dragging behind him a long heavy sack filled with the most important ones. It was said that the trail of blood ran from the south end of the city all the way to the Halls themselves, and up the vast stairs. The emissary of the Great Rocky Tribe was pleased, and he left content. The blood thirst of many tribes was quenched. Peace would resume between the nations. But..."

"But?"

"The Council of Elders, my Elders, knew that something had gone terribly wrong with him. It was more than simply justice, or revenge for our people. The diviner of the main council could see it in his eyes, according to the scroll I read."

"You read this story on a scroll?"

'662 nodded. "I am a Grand iNikosi. I must know the history of those who shared my title. It is a custom of my people."

"I see. I didn't mean to interrupt, go on." I said. The Zulu's were still off in space on the green screen.'

"That warrior...he did not kill for those reasons. He killed for himself. Because he had made a mistake and had to correct it for himself. In order for him to succeed, for his efforts and tireless achievements to continue to function as they had before. But it did function as he had intended."

"Killed for himself?"

'662 tried to find the words. "His life, his world, as a warrior, was one accelerated by success and achieving. I too know that feeling, but he...he lived on it. Thrived on it, like one should. But arrogance is a vine which grows on the same root as glory, and he too was choked by its grip. He couldn't live with the choice he had made, because it affected himself. He felt the pain of those who UlmThwaka killed, they claw at him invisibly for allowing him to go. His curse lives on in him, and will die in him."

"My god..."

"Yes..." 662 said. There was a brief silence, but I wanted to know more.'

"Well, what happened? How did he come to be like this?"

'662 paused, finding the words. "It was said that, when he approached the council, he laid the sack at the center, the blood from it oozing across the circle of the sun, a large circular disc which the council sits encircled around to measure the passing of the hours. When the Elders proclaimed his actions disgraceful and unbecoming of an honorable warrior, he presented them with his izinGxotha and iziQu." he said, looking my stupefied gaze. "They are ornate beaded necklaces and metal arm bands, rewards by the highest authority for bravery and valor. Marks, indicative of the highest caliber of warrior. When the council saw that he was willing to remove himself from this world, and our tribe, they called forth for the diviners, who prescribed the treatment necessary for his condition."

"Which was?"

'662 grimaced, looking about the room, at everything but me. "Well...what you see before you. That is what came to be for him. The Diviners themselves, while shrouded in mystery and bizarre ritual, know that the sickness that abides within us all cannot be quelled by anyone but ones' self."

'I couldn't help but disagree. It was an awful way to treat someone who had tried as this warrior apparently had. "Well, he's pretty courteous to thank his people after they alienated him." I remember whispering to 662. He turned to me, surprised.'

"Alienated? Courteous? These are not words known by a warrior. A warrior is supposed to be strong in a herd or alone. A warrior is not known for courtesy, only mutual respect and regard for shared ideals. Words are not for warriors, for their tongue is their blade. Actions speak for warriors, and theirs are ones always destined for greatness."

'I hadn't realized but the majority of the warriors themselves were listening in. The frail warrior himself, had seated himself on the ground of the main deck, with his back resting against the day-glo sofa facing the green screen staring at the wall, beyond any of us. Thankfully, the Doctor managed to breach the awkward moment when the main deck's pressure door screeched open and he walked through.'

"The Kommissar landed on the outskirts of your city 662 and deposited the Diary2.0. I can only hope that it manages to reach this Council you speak of. In the mean time, would anyone care for breakfast?" he asked, and the moment Nordius Prime had translated it properly, there was a line stretching across the room for eggs and bacon. 662 and I moved aside and he continued.'

"As I said Rod, or 285, which do you prefer since we first met?"

"Rod is fine."

"You can call me RhadNhe or 662, frankly I do not care. But as I said, our worlds are quite different, as I can already tell from this vessel and what it offers."

'I nodded in agreement, and couldn't help but be curious. "What is his name?"

"Who?"

"The weathered warrior, the one you spoke of."

'662 frowned. "Under the custom, one has the option to relinquish their name. To enter izula ukuhlanya, you may do so freely and abandon your old life and self. It can be seen by some as a relief."

"Relief?"

"Circular in nature. Freedom through the release of his deeds and self. Acknowledging the circle, the orbit of our lives in congress to all is vital to living. It is customary for my world."

'His culture was far different than anything I knew Diary3.0. It was staggering for me to think in terms of these dimensions. The Doctor took it in stride, ladling out plates of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon, which the Zulu lurched at hungrily. Just then however, a breakthrough occurred which echoed itself from the green screen and the Panel. It was a sharp hum, that caught the attention of everyone in the room. "What was that?" asked 662.'

'The Doctor, jockeying with a spatula and eggs, seemed excited. "It would appear that the Nordius Prime computer has completed the trajectory computations necessary to track SOLSA's next movement. We're in stationary orbit around Earth, and it would appear that the next dimension, or universe which SOLSA entered, seems to mimic in spatial orbit."

"Meaning?" I asked.'

"Meaning, that we won't have to move the ship or go to a new location to TransFlash to be in orbit of the next earth."

'I nodded. "Convenient."

"Quite. Needless to say I should ask you to brace yourselves. Although the previous TransFlash was barely noticeable on myself and 285, safety first." he said, beckoning to the seats and the floor for the remaining people. All but me were sitting and there was only floor room left.'

"Rod have a seat." the Doctor motioned.'

"Is this really necessary? I mean what good will sitting down do if we're catapulted forward?"

'Doctor Bandevar rolled his eyes. "Where are you going to go? Through the windshield?"

'Point made. "Touche." I said.'

"Touche? Windshield?" 662 grappled.'

"Countdown commencing in 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1-TransFlash!" the Doctor bellowed, tapping his Panel 3 times over a highlighted yellow button. Nordius Prime itself shuddered, but not violently, and we felt an invisible nudge forward. The green screen itself flashed brilliantly as it had before, and became a wavy deep blue, sparkling and popping with translucent and lineless bubbles. It's quite beautiful when you experience it for yourself. The Doctor hadn't made the countdown before, and I'm guessing the extra company and the bizarre reaches of it all may have filtered the events we'd experienced so far in a more comical light. The green screen faded, much like it had before.'

"Where is the picture? It's not clear as it was." 662 was antsy, and his warriors were growing tense.'

"There's no problem I assure all of you. 285 can attest to this as being comparative to our last TransFlash, which was uneventful." The Doctor had managed to get a seat on the couch, and it had gotten far more cramped since the breakfast line had dispersed. "If anything, the screens inactivity should be a sign that we've already entered TransFlash, which means we should be coming out of it...right......now!"

'And the moment he said it, the screen itself emanated once more, like it had, with blue mists of electrical and bubbly light, revealing a surface of an earth, but with a thick green sky, and yellow clouds.'

"That...doesn't seem natural." I said. The Zulu warriors muttered among themselves, with 662 nodding with me in agreement.'

"Perhaps you're right, I'll have Nordius Prime's computer run a scan of the planet. I denote no satellites or communication devices in orbit. It would appear that there are many natural burning wood fires located sparsely throughout the Eastern Seaboard of North America and Europe."

"North America? Europe?" 662 staggered.'

"Apologies, my own and 285's names for the continents of our worlds." The Doctor added. 662 seemed to understand. The Doctor tapped his Panel again. "Now the life form scan and I can see...oh...my god."

"What?" 662 and I said in near unison.'

"Di...Dinosaurs?!" The Doctor muttered.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

24.

"Wait, Dinosaurs?" I asked.'

"What is this, dinosaur?" 662 quipped.'

"This can't be right." the Doctor said tapping his Panel. His widened expression a slowly cracking smile, led me to believe it was.'

"You can't be serious." I gaped. The other Zulu warriors and 662 still lost, and RhadNhe was full of questions.'

"What does it say in your computer, this Nordius Prime, regarding dinosaur?" 662 really hadn't heard of dinosaurs before.'

"They existed on my world millions of years ago. They were giant lizards." I said.'

'The Doctor cleared his throat. "Well they were reptiles, and dinosaurs did exist on 285's world as well as on my own. But it's not showing the same types of life forms that would have existed during any of those periods." he said with his eyes slimming into the Panel. "The oxygen content of the atmosphere for example is far greater than on our worlds, any of them. While there still aren't giant dinosaurs like we'd find in historical databases, it seems that other life did evolve here, but at a much larger rate."

"Larger? And what other forms of life? What exactly can you see with the Nordius Prime sensors anyway?" I asked. I still hadn't seen much of what could be used to scan life other than human. Former Forbes Person of the Year after all, it's one of those things I should know about PTEKK's products.'

"Weren't you paying attention before Rod? I'll go over it again for the sake of our new visitors." the Doctor said, tapping his Panel's translucent screen. The green screen flashed, with more grids and graphs appearing over the new earth's horizon.'

"As you can see on the upper and lower portions of the green screen, one measures the various gasses and particulates in the atmosphere. The other measures other factors such as gravity, seismic stability by region and plate structure. The last of course measures density of life forms governed by released gasses and measuring the sub-harmonic electrical output. That sensor was instrumental in designing the neural connection systems from PTEKK Rod. In addition, as you can see by the various life form diagrams overlooking the green screen grid of the planet itself, you'll find that there are various patterns in biological signals. Some located around what appear to be larger concentrated areas of life, correlated with heat emissions that appear to based upon usage of fire and timber."

"Cities?" 662 said, gazing at the green screen deeply.'

'The Doctor nodded. "It would appear that many of these life forms are inhabiting within regions of these heat emissions. It would be prudent to assume that while dinosaurs are here, humans, or some creatures, are as well."

'I should have known this, but even so, it was a good lesson for 662, and his fellow warriors. "Is there any trace of SOLSA itself?" 662 quipped.'

'Doctor Bandever tapped his Panel reluctantly, and reacted unexpectedly. "It would appear...that SOLSA's trail left this dimension. For whatever reason, their visit was brief and another TransFlash bubble appears in the path from the exhaust trail." he said, pointing at a new graph which popped up on the green screen. "They appear to have left from here, these coordinates." a small cross-hair blip appearing outside the planetary orbit.'

"Can we follow them?" I asked.'

'A few taps later from the Doctor's Panel, buckled his stature. "I'm not sure what to make of this gentlemen." he muttered. "It would appear that the SOLSA ship managed to enter TransFlash utilizing a different...method of TransFlash. It's different than the computer itself can recognize. A completely new algorithm."

"Algo-rythumb?" 662 stammered. The Nordius Prime computer's translator clearly needed attention.'

"An Algorithm. It's a method of structuring or expressing a list of instructions for calculating a function. In this case, the TransFlash's ability to cross dimensions."

"So...are we trapped or something?" I asked. This seemed to intensify the expression on some of the warriors' faces. The weathered warrior and 662 remained unhinged, and the Doctor didn't seem that concerned.'

"Most likely no. We'll be able to leave this dimension. But unless we can understand how SOLSA managed to elude us, utilizing a method of calculation that even I hadn't thought of. Something they themselves managed to perfect in the future..." he droned into thought."

"The future? I thought that this was the most their technology had to offer. Are they now more advanced than us?" 662 asked. His warriors will still silent awaiting the Doctor's translated reply.'

"More than likely...yes. I hate to be so logical, especially in such an illogical setting" Doctor Bandever said, peering around to ensure we weren't offended before continuing. "When I say illogical of course, I mean the entire circumstance to which we've all arrived here, at this juncture in our...well expedition I guess you'd call it. But the fact that we continue to make advancement, while pursing SOLSA, means that our advancement, could very well increase SOLSA's potential for advancement as well."

"What do you mean?" 662 seemed to be growing tenser, and even the weathered warrior's expression began to harden.'

'The Doctor looked up from the Panel and at all of us. "It means that anything we do to achieving our goal of pursuing and defeating SOLSA, makes them that much stronger. They're from the future, generated from our past. So any technology that we would inherit from them, would only be an advancement they left behind. One that they could build on."

"Are you saying that anything we discover to use against SOLSA, they'll just use to prevent anything we could do?" I staggered. A great sigh of exasperation came over everyone in the room, warriors included. "How are we supposed to defeat an enemy who's already 10 steps ahead of us?"

"Please Rod, you're frightening the Zulus." I heard my eardrum ring, and held back as the Doctor tapped his Panel for a better calculation. The warriors themselves were whispering in still unrecorded dialects the computer could not understand. They abruptly ceased when the Doctor's lips moved.'

"I'm going to do an additional scan on the surface."

"Why?" I asked.'

"If SOLSA came here, and departed quickly, it does not necessarily mean that they left without leaving something behind."

"Well..." I began. "We're still able to track their ship's movements like before right?"

"Of course, I've already programmed the computer to begin the necessary calculations. But it will take some time."

"How long?" I didn't mean to get testy with the Doctor at the time Diary3.0, but it seemed like his mind was elsewhere. Ever since he had mentioned the possibility that SOLSA had the upper-hand this entire time, and they could also be aware of our pursuit, he had been daydreaming, or at least been lucidly going over the his Panel's information for the past few minutes. He tapped his pad once more, then examining his wristband.'

"A little over 50 hours to complete the scan."

"50 hours?" I moaned. 662 and the Doctor's eyes both met mine. I tended to be impatient, but I forgot the company I shared. Zulu warriors who understood only the concept of tenacity and strength, and the Doctor who's understanding of time makes 50 hours seem like 50 seconds. I really was a rudimentary human being.'

"Really Rod, 50 hours is nothing short of a miracle when considering the amount of information necessary to properly calculate the SOLSA ship's TransFlash trajectory."

"How do we know they left? What if they went back to where we originally encountered them? Outside the solar system?"

'662's ears peaked. "Did you say you had encountered SOLSA, before they had engaged your world?"

'The Doctor's pulsing gaze met mine, and I could tell that I had made a mistake. 'Must I constantly tell you when and when not to reveal what we know?' I heard my eardrum ring.'

"Outside our solar system...was where we first encountered SOLSA. They attacked us...and we returned to earth for reinforcements and they followed us. But we defended earth and repelled them." I said slowly. 662 blinked, and seemed to nod in compliance. 'Thank you. It's not necessary to deliver them all the information Rod. It's quite possible that giving them too much information has allowed SOLSA to have a potential ability over us.' my ear throbbed. The Doctor was right. Regardless of how similar this new 'Rod' was to me, I could not tell him everything. If he had known any of what truly was, he'd have killed the Doctor and I long before we'd left his dimension.'

"Incidentally 662, that encounter also resulted in the reverse-engineering of this ship. It was created based upon the principals of what the scientists of 285's world witnessed for themselves." the Doctor added.'

"Ah I see." 662 affirmed. His warriors too seemed contented with this answer, as they stared into the new world displayed on the green screen wall. It must have been extraordinary for them all, leaving Earth so abruptly. It made it easier for us to...well, 'distort' the truth in our favor Diary3.0. Any distrust regarding SOLSA from the Zulus or 662, for the moment, was abated, especially by an additional alarm generated from the Doctor's Panel and the green screen, and ceased while the computer continued scanning.'

"What was that? SOLSA?" 662 blurted, he and his warriors stood altogether.'

"No no that's not a SOLSA alarm." I asserted, lifting my hands to ease their tension. This 'alarm', had gone off before when we had first visited 662's earth.'

" Rod is correct, that alarm isn't related to SOLSA. It is however, quite interesting, as that sensor is connected to the filter which scans a planet to determine the locations of those who fit the genetic disposition of the Rodd-iites. Our genetic make-up."

'662's expression grew bewildered. "You mean...there's a-" he stammered.'

"That's right 662. Somewhere down there, is a fellow Rodd-iite. Down there, is one of us!" he bellowed, shaking his fist. I felt like at the time a lightning bolt was missing, or something ominous to accentuate his actions. Regardless, the Zulus and 662 were still left speechless.'

"Another of us?...From that world below?" 662 staggered, gazing at the green screen.'

"Is it so difficult to fathom?" I boasted. I immediately felt the Doctor's glare. He tapped his Panel, and a sharp sound came from the green screen. I had heard this sound before I had left for the surface of 662's world, but didn't know what it was for. "What was that?" I asked.'

'The Doctor was still looking at me while holding his Panel. "It was an automated system to calibrate the loading bay's arm. It should be preparing the larger Kommissar vessel for a departure to the surface."

"We're going...to the surface?" 662 asked.'

"Yes, however it would be best this time if it was just you, myself, and 285. Mainly because if we do encounter another 'Rod'" the Doctor said, quoting with his fingers, "Then it would be in our best interest to persuade him directly with recruitment for the Rodd-iites. In addition, I have always been fond of dinosaurs, and if they exist on the surface, I wish to at least see them." he mused longingly.'

"What's so great about dinosaurs?" I muttered.'

'The Doctor seemed genuinely surprised at me. "What is not incredible at seeing dinosaurs, beings that lived millions of years before we were even a pipedream? Such things mystify and intrigue the most brilliant, and inspire those who don't know otherwise. In addition Rod if I recall correctly, upon my arrival into your world, you thought I was some drunken vagrant, or some hallucination that was attempting to destroy you. For someone who has gained so much from an open mind, yours becoming so closed is getting alarming." The Doctor always had a point.'

"Sorry, it's just that even now it's getting more and more difficult to remember how things used to be without realizing how complicated they were." I buckled apologetically.'

"Things are hardly as complicated as they were Rod, at least on your world. All of us here, especially the Rodd-iites we're trying to assemble, seem to be social complexities and misfits on their own worlds."

'I can't deny that I took offense to this, and 662 had as well. The Doctor waffled but rationalized his logic. "By that, I mean that all of our attempts to merge within our respective societies and groups has still led us to the juncture of not having them exist at all. Here we are in space, on a ship created by 285's world, which was willing to destroy itself rather than to simply look for more answers. 662's world, who's own people are isolated and rendered a forgotten caste by way of their emotions. And my world...well..."

"What of your world? I have never heard a word of it yet." 662 asked eagerly. The other Zulu warriors seemed interested too, even the weathered one. Their views on technology since meeting the Doctor had improved greatly. If only we had met them before SOLSA had attacked.'

'The Doctor's expression grew stern, but he didn't circumvent the question. "My world, was much like your worlds, 662 and 285. In that it seems controlled by forces that while meaning well, refused to see anything out of a certain polarity, or a singular understanding or logic. Logic..." he stammered, putting his hand to his forehead. "The fact that my world relied upon it so heavily and reached heights utilizing its method in every capacity, and still did not fathom or wish to fathom worlds that were anything but logical."

'Once again, 662 grew offended. "Illogical? My world? While my existence and that of the izula ukuhlanya may illustrate the lowest of my world, it is not illogical."

'The Doctor shook his head. "Please I do not mean to offend you. I did not mean to imply that your world was illogical." he said, with 662 easing. "It's simply the fact that my world would not accept the idea of your world existing at all. Or yours 285. Culture itself or the remembrance of a world outside of our own is frowned upon by my people, my 'Elders' if you'd refer to them as such. The ideas suggested by the past are deemed unworthy of eyes of the future, at least according to them. Notions that did not function to serve the test of time are seen as merely nostalgic, and unconventional. My society refuses to remember, or acknowledge its past, or what its past showed us to make the future. Their future. The concepts to which we're struggling, or I should say I'm struggling to grasp, would have been...well..." the Doctor trailed off. "Let's just say that you wouldn't be given the ability to speak for long. Or be remembered."

'662 and the other warriors seemed surprised, and were hanging on his every word. I was too admittedly, but I had already known the Doctor was fleeing from somewhere else, looking for solace or at least interest elsewhere. Even after all the success of PTEKK on my world and though I vomited consistently whenever reaching orbit, it was good to have the ability to really get away sometimes. Everyone needs a vacation now and then.'

"On my world, or I should say, my universe 662, Logic prevails over all, including anything that would be deemed 'illogical', or 'cultural'. My world was correct in understanding the idea of people being one; sharing the concept that we were each a human being. However...they simply forgot the singular aspect of what a human being was." The Doctor muttered. "285 is aware of my world's troubles as I had mentioned them before. I was deemed an outcast, an exile like you 662. But alienation in my universe is far different. You're marked; A member of a silent caste regarded with disgust."

"What is it that you committed to earn such disrespect on your world? Your wisdom and knowledge would be well respected on my world." 662 said. My world loved the Doctor's work too Diary3.0, even if they thought it was my own.'

"Simply by looking to the past 662. My world, would have ultimately mimicked 285's, in that our worlds began almost at the same pace, yet mine embraced the ideals of logic and science above all else. Nationalism, Racism, Poverty in particular, all vanished. But with it, a drive. A sense of difference, no matter how skewed, allowing collaboration of rational being to usurp irrational divides and sundry nuances meant only to hinder humanity's growth as a whole."

"What?" 662 was trying to keep up.'

'The Doctor shook his head. "My apologies, the translation computer is still quantifying the changes in your language from the original dialects it has on record. It's doing so silently in the background if you'll notice here on the green screen." he said spinning his finger on the Panel and revealing yet another graph, to a wave of ooh's from the Zulus. "Essentially 662, my world forgot conflict. It forgot its drive, and its purpose. Many in my world could not see it, but I could. That it was running out of ideas, or had. Not because they weren't there, as I've illustrated from being here alone. No, it was simply because they had reached a pinnacle of their own design; their peak had been ascended. There was no more purpose, or need to continue changing, as change would be subversive to the control they wielded. No more could one dream or wish, or think about the possibilities thereof without being scorned as 'treasonous' or 'illogical'. Thinking and dreaming for merely the sake of it, had been frowned upon by society. Deemed illegal."

"I see..." 662 stammered. The Doctor had made these points to me before, but he'd never explained just why he was 'exiled.'"

"So, why exactly were you exiled? Like for what purpose?" I asked. The Zulus and 662 were just as curious, still sitting around the green screen's glow besides the day-glo sofa. The Doctor sighed, and revealed the real reason, why he so wanted to leave his own universe.'

"I was excommunicated, within my own community and my own laboratory, for possessing movies."

"Movies?" I gaffed. "What kind of movies?"

'The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Mostly science-fiction, and various other films from the past."

'I blinked. "You were censured, for watching movies?"

'His face wrinkled, and his grip clenched on the Panel's corners until his hand was bloodless and tense. "You do not understand Rod. On my world, it's frowned upon to even imagine, or think beyond the rules constructed by our world's elite. In my universe, nothing of what we do here is logical, or remotely possible. No dimensional thought. No differences of being or opinion. In my universe, none of you exist. Or could exist. The minds of my people alone would refuse to accept it. It's beyond their understanding."

'This seemed to bother 662, who didn't stand but sighed sternly. "My warriors and I, do not understand your world Doctor, or the world of 285, or even SOLSA. But our minds were able to accept it, and your people are of a knowledge different than our own. How could you not persuade them with your own words, to see your logic? Your logic has carried us this far." he said. This made the Doctor smile, but it quickly faded as he drained his attention back to the Panel.'

"While I appreciate the sentiment, I no longer serve a purpose in my universe. At least, not as great a purpose as I serve here!" he spouted triumphantly. This enthused the warriors greatly, and myself too. It was good to see Doctor Bandever in high spirits. He was shouldering much of the burden of destroying SOLSA while also attempting to keep the universes in check with balancing the influx of his knowledge between dimensions. It must have been taking its toll. The brief jubilation was interrupted by two alarms. One that signified that the loading bay arm had finished connecting to the Kommissar and loaded it in place, and another that I hadn't heard before.'

"That's an alarm I haven't heard before." I muttered.'

"Neither have I..." the Doctor wavered. This made everyone in the room uneasy, as he hurriedly tapped his Panel, his eyes widening upon the change of display.'

"What do you see? What is wrong?" 662 quipped.'

"SO-SOLSA...SOLSA on the planet..." he mumbled. The warriors were up in a half of a second upon the mention of the word, and 662 and the weathered warrior moved closer to the Doctor to see his Panel.'

'I did too. "What do you mean SOLSA? Do you mean their ship is here?"

'He looked up from the Panel, noticing everyone clustering around him. "I'll put it on the green screen. It will make it easier to explain." he said, tapping and flipping a button on his Panel, displaying it on the wide wall. "From what the computer can scan, there is a larger concentration of a foreign substance, that matches the signature left behind by SOLSA."

"But...what is it? If it's not the ship?" I asked. The Doctor's expression furrowed as he tapped more on his Panel.'

"I'm not sure. It's not appearing as though it even has mass. The only reason it's even scanning is because it's..." he said before abruptly stopping.'

"It's what? You always do that with your hinging on the details." I moaned.'

"Apologies Rod, everyone, it's just that I haven't seen this before. I don't know what to make of it exactly." he said, tapping it on the larger display. "This concentration was only detectable utilizing the Phasic-mode signal. It's a sensor that only displays the locations of PTEKK"

"Faysick Mode?" 662 stammered.'

"Phasic-Mode, you saw it earlier on your world from...the Doctor's Komm-Bots that you saw."

'Nice save' I heard my eardrum ring. I had almost slipped up that one, but 662 seemed to have understood. "I see, so it renders SOLSA invisible to the naked eye?" he asked.'

'Doctor Bandever nodded. "Basically, yes. But it actually puts them in the same place, but removed from tangibility as well as being invisible. With an invisible object, it will still have a physical presence. But with a 'Phased object'" he said, motioning with his fingers again, "It won't be visible to the naked eye, or have tangible or physical presence. It acts as though it's genuinely not there."

"You do that a lot with your fingers you know that?" I giggled.'

'The Doctor rolled his eyes as it elicited even a chuckle from 662. It may have been poorly timed on my part, but it was certainly true. "Regardless, we should treat this as a potential threat."

"A serious one?" 662 gripped his shield.'

'The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. "It has yet to be seen. We know the ship is not here, otherwise the same scan that found the Phased area would have found the ship in orbit too."

"Could it...be the ship?" I asked.'

'He shook his head. "Not likely. Nordius Prime is not that big, but it's not that small either. In addition, this ship lacks the capacity for a ground landing, which is why it has smaller ships and a TransFlash system to transit materials. It's how we built it remember?"

'It made sense. Our ship Nordius Prime, would be considered gigantic by most scales. Not as massive as we should have constructed it, but hindsight makes fools of us all. The Doctor continued. "Moving on, we should make way for the Kommissar in the loading bay. It's being loaded at the moment with a small compliment of Komm-Bots which will act on a neural connection frequency."

'The Zulu warriors rose with 662 when the Doctor had said this. However, Doctor Bandever raised his hands slowly, and even 662 stopped rising. "That is not necessary gentlemen, the only people necessary for this brief venture are myself, Rod 662, and Rod 285. The rest of you must stay aboard, and I must insist that you remain in this room for all intensive purposes."

'RhadNhe, or 662, seemed to be miffed. "These warriors deserve the chance to avenge their people."

'The Doctor gripped the bridge of his nose, sighing, then found the words. "While SOLSA deserves our ultimate attention to protect all of our worlds, we cannot deny the importance of what both of your dreams hold for us."

"Our dreams? But you mean you too have not experienced our visions? This 285 and mine?"

'Doctor Bandever seemed lost. "I have had no dreams like that. I wish that I had. Perhaps then I would share your perspectives. But quite frankly, I'm certainly not arrogant enough to deny the value of what you both seem to remember, especially when contrasted with our circumstances themselves. The key to defeating SOLSA, comes from both of you. And if both of your involvement in this brings about the end of SOLSA, then surely the other Rodd-iites are part of the solution as well. All of this, somehow ties together. And the only way it will come to light is if we managed to replicate what both of you saw in your dreams."

"Why then cannot my warriors too enter into the fray below?" the Zulus were getting restless.'

"As I explained earlier to 285 many times, our influx, our intervention into these universes alone may alter our ability to fend off SOLSA in the future. It is why I believe, that the dreams you and 285 both share are not only the solution to this problem, but that other Rodd-iites are as well. The involvement of your warriors below is a variable I cannot predict, or even tabulate using Nordius Prime's computer, at least not without extensive time invested by it." he said, waving his Panel around the room. "It is something that cannot be quantified. For the moment, or at least in terms of traveling to the surface below, our interaction alone will alter things in a way that will at least be minimal. I'd much rather have our full compliment available, once we have engaged SOLSA. Surely you can agree that waiting to gather full strength, is more pragmatic and effective than recklessly and brazenly attacking."

'662 seemed to be contented with this, though it was clear that he wanted blood. He and I noticed a crumpled gaze from the older warrior. "Will it be inexcusable to have the, toilet as you call it, available?"

'The Doctor smirked. "Not a problem in the slightest 662. However for those of your warriors who do use the bathroom, please do not explore the remainder of the ship. It's for your own safety."

'662 nodded, and spoke in tribal dialect to his fellow warriors. They remained stationary as 662, myself, and the Doctor made for the main deck's pressure door on the other side of the day-glo sofa from them. "Tell your tribesmen to remain calm 662. There's no need to be alarmed, as SOLSA's ship is not here, even if evidence of them remains." 662 nodded, conveying such to his cadre, and the three of us walked out of the pressure door and down Nordius Prime's lengthy hallway to the loading bay at the end.'

'As we approached the door, I began to feel sluggish and tired. My muscles had ached from earlier strain, and my eating habits hadn't been the best. Still, my energy had been drained, and I found myself lagging down the vast chamber leading to the Docking Bay. 662 and the Doctor both walked ahead of me to where the larger Kommissar had been loaded.'

"Are you alright?" the Doctor turned to me. 662 did the same stopping briefly.'

"I'm fine I guess. Just a little bit tired."

'The Doctor flummoxed. "While I'm concerned for your well being Rod, we need you on the surface."

'662 looked me up and down. "He looks ill. A lack of rest. Is it necessary that we all venture below?"

'Doctor Bandever nodded sternly. "It's the best way to convince any other Rodd-ites we encounter, and according to the computer one does exist here, no matter how inconceivable it is. I'd prefer to have the both of you there to help in the persuasion of whoever this Rod is."

'662 frowned. "And it's necessary that we convince this Rod to help us?"

"It's the only way to understand fully how to defeat SOLSA, and undo the damage done. If they truly did manipulate time, and find a way to cross both dimension and time itself, then we need all the help we can get. Any variable, no matter how bizarre or uncouth in our favor, is one in our favor nonetheless!" the Doctor belted. It was clear that the thought necessary to contemplate all the necessary aspects of our venture had taken its toll. Not just on him, but on both of us. As best as I could, I found myself unable to draw another step, and haphazardly fell face-forward into darkness on the hallway's metal deck.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Eye asskewed yew sum'in weirdy" a familiar drawl permeated the umbra.'

'In one blink I had returned to the classroom from unconsciousness, surrounded by mostly empty desks. The spottiness cleared to reveal the same face I had seen before; a sloping browed gritty Rodd-ite, clad in furs under the brim of a crumpled wooly 10 gallon. He was furrowing a thick uni-brow at me, finally blaring wide eyed, attracting the attention of the other two remaining Rodd-iites. One was still shivering under a blanket, older with creased features. The other was younger, vacant in expression and seemingly listless.'

"Deff n' dumb too uh? Like theeze too." he snarled, peering over his left shoulder. The classroom, was as vacant as it had been before since the disappearance of 662 while making his speech. I could see that the patience of the giant 'cowboy' Rod had finally ended.'

"Eyy've had eet. Eef yew wunt talk, eye dunt kar."

And in a blink, I was back to the floor of Nordius Prime, being grappled by the Doctor and 662.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Let's get him aboard the Kommissar quickly." the Doctor said faintly.'

'662 shook his head. "He should remain here. He is uninjured but seems incapable of walking."

'I stood myself up on my own power, much to the delight and amazement of the two. "I'm alright, I just felt sick for the moment is all. But..."

"But...?" the Doctor finished and 662 were both hinging on my words.'

"But I had a dream...about the Rodd-iites."

"Another dream? Perhaps I have seen the same vision." 662 seems enthralled but he had disappeared before I had seen the others.'

"No, it was after you had disappeared. While giving a speech."

"I...I remember...that dream. I recall the speech to which you refer. I was reading from a text, one that sat on the podium..."

"That speech you read, was on the podium when you came to the dream?" This always struck me as odd Diary3.0, even now.'

'622 nodded. "Yes. It was a simple stack of scrolls with fine writing on each page."

'The Doctor had taken out his Panel, taking down more information about the Rodd-iites. "What else do you both remember about this dream? Where you both can recall the most.'

'I thought about the dream where 662 had given his speech. "I remember seeing 662...and three others there."

"Yes! I remember those three. One was old, or older, shivering." 662 staggered.'

"Wearing a blanket over him...right?" 662's expression grew tense. "And the other, was younger, but more...I don't know how to put it." I tried the best I could, but it almost seemed like the other Rodd-iite was a young man, younger than us, but more lucid and detached. 662 knew this too.'

"He seemed medicated. It is common on my world for the wounds of warriors to be treated with herbs and tinctures. Even the diviners or iziNyanga muthis of my world know this, and restrict the treatments of warriors who have regained strength. His eyes were glazed over, but uncontrollably so."

'The Doctor showed genuine concern. "Would you say these other two Rodd-iites looked like they were in danger? Or otherwise in trouble?" he asked, tapping his Panel again.'

'I shook my head. "I'm not sure. To be honest the one 662 is referring to seemed almost in a trance state."

"Drug induced?" he flicked the Panel.'

"Maybe, I'm not sure. The other was older in appearance, and was holding a blanket over himself shivering."

'His mustache furrowed as he glared at the Panel. "What about the other one? This third Rodd-iite."

"Well, I'm hoping that 662 can attest to this, but he was much larger than the rest of us. Tall and gangly, with a sloping brow, wearing...well a cowboy hat."

'The Doctor gaped. "You had mentioned this one before I believe."

'I nodded. "He was there, and in this past dream I had talked to him briefly. But..."

"But?" the Doctor coaxed.'

"I couldn't respond. It was like I couldn't speak, or was unable to, even though I wanted to ask him questions."

"I see. Were there any others besides these three and 662?" he asked.'

'I shook my head. "No not that I can remember. There was a room full of them at one point, but they were all gone in this dream."

'662 seemed perplexed at this. "Do you not remember?"

"Remember what?"

'He paused, finding the right words. "I recall a dream. A dream about the Rodd-iites, where I saw many of us, those who looked like us, leave."

"Leave? What do you mean leave?" Doctor Bandever quipped.'

"They all left one at a time, some in groups."

"But, why? Why were they leaving?"

'662 frowned. "They were leaving because they did not want any part in the venture."

"The venture? You...you mean the Rodd-iites. What we're doing here?"

'662 shrugged, the first time I'd seen him uncertain. Perhaps it was because he was not in the company of his warriors and felt more open. "I am uncertain. I know that I heard many of them complain about various things. About their lives being better without a conflict like this. How a dream held no value, or that such trifles were not important one of them said. I chose not to leave because I thought it was merely a dream, and a deep one at that. I did not think of it at the time, because of what has happened since then, long since."

"Like what?" Doctor Bandever was speaking my mind.'

"The attacks from SOLSA, long before they occurred, I had this dream. I did not think that...I did not realize that...I apologize to the both of you, I did not know the significance of this vision, this dream that I had. Such things such as divinations are rarely discussed, and I hold no bloodline of spiritual ascension to have such visions held in esteem."

'The Doctor stopped his Panel tapping. "Rod...285 I mean...did you have a dream like this? Where you saw other Rodd-iites leave the room?"

'I truly hadn't. "No. Not at all in fact. I had a dream where I met a room full of Rods, of many types. Many of them seemed like off shoots of different worlds and universes, more diverse than even 662 or what we might find down there. You remember this Doctor Bandever, I'd mentioned this before to you in length."

'He nodded. "You did, and I'm still grappling with the ideas that are being presented here, especially in light of this new evidence which connects both of your sets of dreams. However, it would appear that only the memory of the dream is linear, and you both seem to only have fragments of the dream itself."

'I reached, given the circumstances it seemed warranted to try. "Do you think it's possible that, we all share the same memory?"

'The Doctor paused. "Perhaps. In a way that correlates to what is known as relational memory, the information that your mind processes but remains out of direct attention. That is something that exists in the real world, not necessarily within a dream. But from the data I've assembled, and what I've heard from both of you, is that each Rodd-iite, each of you, holds a piece to the puzzle. Both of you have remembered aspects of a dream that the other did not. This is significant, more so than I can immediately tabulate."

"What must we do now?"

"It's more than obvious 662. If both of you share the pieces of the Rodd-iite Brotherhood, and the key to defeating SOLSA, then each of the other Rodd-iites you saw, must be significant in some way. On the surface, down there if the computer is correct in its scan, is one of those Rodd-iites."

"To the surface then?" 662 pried.'

'The Doctor nodded, and we crossed the threshold into the Loading Bay. Within, the larger arm itself had loaded the larger Kommissar with a small compliment of Komm-Bots. "These will act on neural connection, my own actually." Doctor Bandever said. "They will also be recording our movements below and will be assessing the planet for any additional clues about this new Rodd-iite, or SOLSA."

"So they won't be controlled by PTEKK operators?" I asked.'

'He shook his head as 662 climbed carefully into the cockpit. "I had considered it before the scan concluded that SOLSA had altered their dynamic of TransFlash. Any introduction or inception of a new variable, especially one as uninvolved as a random PTEKK operator would throw things even more out of balance." he echoed, climbing up the same ladder. "Until we know more about every aspect of what we're dealing with, we should only invite what is calculable. Even this is a stretch."

'I was right behind the Doctor on the ladder leading up. "So why are you going then? If it's such a dangerous idea for anything unexpected to happen, then why are you so dead-set on going to the surface with us?"

'The Doctor, at the top rung, turned and looked down at me with a devious grin. "Because there are dinosaurs!" he bellowed, throwing himself over the cockpit's edge. I wish that I could have gotten more out of what was going on at the time, at least as much as the Doctor. I felt like dead weight, even compared to 662 who was more than happy to see anything different. After managing to ascend the ladder to its top rung, I climbed over into the plush interior with 662 and the Doctor both seated.'

"Closing main door, activating launch sequence." the computer hummed.'

'The main arm above whirred loudly, emanating the familiar alarm and flashes. "Countdown to descent release in 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1-0." the computer's autonomous voice was cut by a shudder, quaking the Kommissar free of the grapple. A weightless drop occurred, much like it had before, as the auto-pilot veered a new vector and coordinated a landing to match the readings below.'

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25.

<3>

<2>

<1>

<cue music>

'Wednesday, May 25th 1994, this Today, with your hosts Bryant Gumbel and Katie Couric.'

<cue anchor>

<Bryant Gumbel> "Good morning everyone, we begin today's stories with a look back earlier last week, where Matilda Terenstry, CEO of PTEKK International announced the near completion of the Nordius Prime II, the second ship created by PTEKK Intergalactic in the span of less than a year. The company had announced plans to re-create Nordius Prime, but in a much larger form. This, at the behest of Ms. Terenstry, acting on what she referred to as 'intuition' that it was necessary to make preparations in the event that Rod Andrews, former PTEKK founder and CEO, was unsuccessful and had gone missing between TransFlash uses."

<Katie Couric> "As the result of the lack of contact made to Rod Andrews, the board of directors at PTEKK had authorized that work begin on a larger scaled version of Nordius Prime. With its completion, its mission, as well as the mission of PTEKK International came into the spotlight once again, this time with questions regarding its intentions. With more on this developing story we go to Paul Reuben outside the PTEKK/Chrysler Building. Paul it's good to have you with us."

<Paul Reuben> "Thanks Katie it's good to be here."

<Katie Couric> "Paul, if you could give us an update of what is going on there at PTEKK International since Matilda Terenstry's recent press conference and the coronation of the Nordius Prime II."

<Paul Reuben (on location)> "Well to start we should go over what we know at this hour. Matilda Terenstry if you remember called a press conference last week to inform the public of their intention in collaboration with the governments of China, the United States, and Russia to construct a larger version of Nordius Prime. Their effort to do so was based around not only the notion of a defensive fleet to be formed in protection of earth itself, but that this vessel in question should be utilized to as Ms. Terenstry put it, 'follow the path the Rod Andrews took, specifically to determine his fate.' Now, thousands applaud the notion of earthen defense, but critics are slamming PTEKK International and Ms. Terenstry as well, for what some physicists and mathematicians call 'the greatest potential disaster to face mankind.'"

<show footage>

<Stephen Hawking> "It would be worse than SOLSA attacking. The possibility of further deviations and imperfections to time and space would have monumental effects we cannot predict."

<Paul Reuben (voiceover)> "Professor Stephen Hawking was one of many prestigious contributors to the National Association of Mathematicians seminar Monday evening. He and many other speakers including developers of a power system to be used on board the Nordius Prime II, the Hadron Particle Collider.'

<Alfred Irving> "The idea of using the Hadron Particle System, in conjunction with TransFlash itself, is highly unstable and dangerous. We are still examining the properties of how such a system would work on its own. It is at best in its infancy and should not be taken as fact."

<Paul Reuben (voiceover)> "Other critics of PTEKK's plans include the Prime Minister of Australia, citing his concern over PTEKK's usage of his country as a 'weigh station' as he called it, for the materials bound for Nordius Prime II."

<show footage>

<Paul Keating> "The actions of Ms. Terenstry, and the actions of PTEKK International, have given this government, the Australian people, and the world reason to doubt its legitimate intentions."

<Paul Reuben (voiceover)> "While Australia's government was more vocal than most about PTEKK's intentions, not everyone was disagreeing with Matilda Terenstry's decision to construct the vessel."

<show footage>

<George Bush> "The defense of earth from the potential invasion of SOLSA, is paramount to the survival of humanity."

<Paul Reuben (voiceover)> "Vice President George Bush speaking on Capitol Hill tonight to acknowledge his support for the intentions of PTEKK International and further affirms any assistance that the United States Military can offer will be given. The President, still recovering from his neural grafting operation at his home in California called the commencement 'a broad step forward for all of humanity.' Other officials were also with the Vice President to speak. Secretary of Defense William Perry affirmed his support for PTEKK's plans as well."

<William Perry> "It is no longer a question of creating a stronger nation. It is of the question of creating a stronger planet."

<Paul Reuben (on location)> "Now Katie from what I've been told by a spokesman of PTEKK International is that Matilda Terenstry will not be boarding the ship itself, and by recommendation of Chief Scientist Arthur Winkler, no other humans will be permitted to board the Nordius Prime II. In a statement released by the spokesman, Dr. Winkler was quoted as saying 'allowing Rod Andrews to leave originally, utilizing a variance in the technology known as TransFlash, was irresponsible.' I was told earlier that the rumor of reprisal against Dr. Winkler by Ms. Terenstry and the board was false, and according to the spokesman 'Ms. Terenstry and the board of directors at PTEKK International respect the opinions of Dr. Winkler but refuse to condemn or exonerate the actions of former CEO and head Rod Andrews.'

<Katie Couric> "Paul what is the point of Nordius Prime II if it will not house a full compliment of people aboard to, well run it?"

<Paul Reuben> "Well Katie according to the spokesman of PTEKK International, the original Nordius Prime was capable of being autonomously guided and piloted, via the neural connection system. This is also the same system which controls the majority of PTEKK's other products."

<Katie Couric> "And Nordius Prime itself, we've been getting reports that there have been class action suits lobbied against PTEKK International, at the behest of individual militia and smaller businesses which have stakes in the original Crusade, which Rod Andrews himself left on, was there any information given on that?"

<Paul Reuben> "One of the key issues of the press conference earlier was to address those discrepencies. Now PTEKK's spokesman has assured company Komm-Bot operators that their vehicles have yet to be activated by signal from Nordius Prime itself. However in light of circumstances related to a lack of communication from Rod Andrews himself, PTEKK Military has begun production of Komm-Bots to replace user's vehicles to make up for potential loss. In addition as you may have noted earlier this month a lawsuit was lobbied on the part of Columbia University into the usage of TransFlash itself for the purposes which Rod Andrews used to propel Nordius Prime into a separate dimension. Now the government and PTEKK have gone to great lengths to ensure that the public that TransFlash is indeed safe, and the modifications made to the method of transit itself have been elevated to a level of state secrecy an anonymous source affiliated with the State Department has told me."

<Katie Couric> "And as I can see in the background it appears that normal air traffic has resumed around PTEKK Headquarters?"

<Paul Reuben> "That's correct Katie as you know not long after Rod Andrews's departure, Ms. Terenstry moved PTEKK International and PTEKK Legal's main headquarters to within the PTEKK/Chrysler building itself. The former headquarters in outer Manhattan is still a draw for tourists looking to see the home of Rod Andrews and Hover Scooter creator Steve Patmont."

<Bryant Gumbel> "Paul what can you tell us about the work to contact Rod Andrews across TransFlash?"

<Paul Reuben> "Well Bryant according to the PTEKK spokesman who spoke earlier this morning, the efforts to contact Rod Andrews directly utilizing the same communication system that was designed to allow the function of the neural connection system from earth, have not been functioning. Now it is uncertain even at this hour if it is related to a technical malfunction, or perhaps something far worse."

<Bryant Gumbel> "Paul is PTEKK admitting that they have lost contact, and have been unable to reach Rod Andrews this entire time since his departure?"

<Paul Reuben> "According to sources here who have been reluctant to reveal their identities fear of reprisal, PTEKK International has not had any word or contact from Rod Andrews at all. The neural connection systems were attempted to be activated by Matilda Terenstry, first as a test shortly after Rod Andrews had departed, and then again a few days later. There has been word that indeed PTEKK International has had no communication from Rod Andrews, and at this moment, the outlook is grim."

<Bryant Gumbel> "Paul Reuben, thanks for joining us."

<Paul Reuben> "Thanks for having me."

<Bryant Gumbel> "Well be following that story as it develops by the hour. Coming up, Katie will talk to interior designer Devon Branzer and a new way to design the interior of your home to suit your pet's needs, after a short break, stay with us."

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'The ride through the thick smoggy atmosphere was less than enjoyable. According to the computer, the high amounts of oxygen that made everything on this earth so big, was also responsible for making the descent so terrible. Needless to say, any breakfast I had left went across the cockpit, with 662's shortly after. The Doctor improved the shielding, but not soon enough. He had a stronger stomach than both of us though, and we broke through the cloud cover, revealing an earth similar to our own, but slightly different.'

"What happened to the earth?" I asked, with 662 peaking interest as well. The Doctor noticed that Africa and Australia, were still connected to various sects of land and mass.'

"Pangea...?" he stammered.'

"Pan-what?" 662 whispered to me. I shrugged.'

"Pangea...was the way the earth originally looked. Well, not how it is now, but how it would look if the shift in continents hadn't changed as it normally had. At least according to theory and how the plates of the earth themselves divided the land masses themselves originally. On all of our worlds, the continents themselves were long split and divided in familiar forms that I could imagine. But this...this is extraordinary..." he trailed off, clearly lost in the moment of it all. It truly was amazing Diary3.0, to go to worlds like this that even Doctor Bandever couldn't dream of.'

"What of this Rodd-iite?" 662 asked.'

'The Doctor snapped back from his thinking, tapping the Kommissar's Heads up Display. A small filter blipped on the internal screen of the cabin, illustrating on the map of the North American continent the location of the similar "Rod" signal.'

"That should be him now." the Doctor said confidently.'

"Are you sure?" 662 quipped.'

'The Doctor's brow crumpled in thought. "The possibility of it being this, Rod, himself, is high. However, while these sensors can track the most minute detail on our planet, the filters and the sensors are simply not capable of scanning for specifics through this atmosphere."

'I crossed my arms. "So what you're saying is that we really don't know if that's a Rod walking around on that blip right there." I said pointing on the Kommissar screen, "Or if it's just some scrap of skin or hair that's still partially living that the sensors managed to track?"

'The Doctor winced as 662 stared out onto the surface through the screen. "We'll have to just wait and see 285."

'This whole concept to me was still more than confusing, even with two different versions of myself present. "How are Rods always found in the North American region?" I asked.'

'The Doctor, allowing the neural connection and auto pilot to guide us down, elaborated. "It seems more than logical that all of us, being from similar parentage, must have begun life in the same place. I myself lived out my days in what would be known as, in your universe 285, as 'Ohio.'"

'I remembered living in Ohio...briefly. It wasn't something I liked to talk about much Diary3.0, as it was one of those times in my life where I'd simply like to forget. The irony being, is that when you think about something you want to forget enough, on the premise of doing so, it happens. You won't be able to recall details, or even if you were actually there. But part of you will always remember, no matter how much else of you runs from the truth of it.'

"I remember living in Ohio...but it was before I left for New York."

'The Doctor turned to me in his seat. "So you grew up in the city? Do you remember your, or I should say 'our' mother?" he said quoting in his classic fashion. "I mean I don't mean to pry...I know it wasn't a subject you liked to think of."

'He had a point. The last time he had even mentioned, 'our' mother, I didn't exactly have the best reaction. It's hard to think about how long ago it was, and even after all I'd been through with Doctor Bandever, I still couldn't be honest about the slightest of details regarding my individual past. He turned his attention from me to 662.'

"What about you 662? Do you remember your family?" he asked.'

'662 seemed lost, like I had been a moment ago. His past, like mine, must have been shrouded by himself to prevent his longing, or his memory from getting the better of him. "I do remember my family of the past. I left them long ago to pursue my enlistment into my iViyo."

'The Doctor nodded. "It would seem that we all seem to share this...this idea of isolation. Of self-serving, of our own goals, whatever they may be." he said, shrugging shortly after. "Or it could be that circumstance is the culprit, and we ourselves merely merge to a path outside of ourselves and are only guided by the reactions that the windy road brings..." he said, trailing off again.'

"You know, that's another thing you do a lot." I said.'

"What?" the Doctor looked confused.'

'I chuckled at first. "Your emphasis on words, and using them like you do. It's almost like you missed your calling in life."

'He raised an eyebrow to me, while 662 gazed off into the Kommissar's green screen of the surface. "What calling? You mean besides what I do now?"

'I nodded. "The way you talk, you should have been a writer."

'The Doctor didn't wince, but I could tell that it wasn't a prospect he would dislike. Besides sharing genetic traits Diary3.0, all Rodd-iites from what I've seen share facial reactions to situations. "I just mean the way you express things and talk about them. It seems like something you could have enjoyed."

'He nodded, but there was an aspect of his world that I had forgotten, which he would now reinstate. "Rod, it would have been amazing to even have the opportunity to think of worlds like this. From a creative perspective. But my world...as you remember, does not reward creativity, or the breach of logic. You remember that I had mentioned that correct?"

'I had after that. "Yeah...I didn't realize that your world was so stigmatized against any kind of writing or thought."

'He shook his head. "Not thought Rod. Just abstract thought."

'This always bothered me Diary3.0. How did his society, or his universe last as long as it did, without abstract thinking? Or thinking about the possibilities of any of, well, this? What's happened since I met the Doctor? I may be a former Forbes' Person of the Year, but I'm awful at business, and even I know a bad investment when I see one. Their loss was our gain, and the Doctor had made progress the likes of which his own world would probably never accept. At least according to the Doctor himself.'

'662 looked away from the screen momentarily "We seem to be coming up quickly. Are we landing at the location of this Rodd-iite?"

'The Doctor turned back to the HUD, examining the 'screen' with a few flicks of his finger, revealing a new vector graph appearing over the front cockpit.'

"It would appear that the target we have, has remained stationary at this location." he said, pointing to the large blob we had seen on Nordius Prime earlier. I noticed the other corresponding effect, the one that the Doctor had pointed to aboard the ship.'

"What about that?" I said pointing. "The SOLSA effect you mentioned before." We were approaching the earth more rapidly than before, our descent taking more time than I had anticipated. I could see his expression become tense.'

"From what the filtering sensor is indicating, it is not entirely one Phasic-effect."

"What does that mean?" 662's ears perked when SOLSA was mentioned.'

"It would seem that the 'Phased' effects we had noticed were multiple targets.'

"Multiple targets? SOLSA is here?" 662 gnashed. He appeared to be restraining himself from leaping up, knowing we were still in a spaceship.'

"It appears so." the Doctor said softly.'

"Are they Komm-Bots? Or actual SOLSA? I've never even seen what a SOLSA or whatever looks like." I said.'

'662 seemed to relent slightly. "I too, have never seen a SOLSA."

'I was surprised at this, as was the Doctor. "You? I thought you did battle with them personally when they attacked your world." It seemed like a legitimate question on my part, and even the Doctor was curious.'

'662 shook his head. "The Komm-Bots, and the vessels, like this one. That is all I have seen. Never a creature, never anything more."

'I was disappointed to say the least. Not in 662 or his existence as a Rodd-iite or a Zulu warrior. We had been attacked at random by an enemy which had the exact type of technology as we did at PTEKK. Their technology had also been on the books for PTEKK long before SOLSA's invasion too. It must have taken some crafty work from the Doctor to conceal all that information. I still didn't know at the time how much Matilda knew, or if the Doctor even kept her in the loop.'

"We're coming up on the surface now where the Rodd-iite signal is being emitted." he said, tapping the craft's HUD. "There is a smooth level terrain nearby adjacent to what appears to be a house." The Doctor reached for the controls, and the craft veered slightly to the left. I looked over a the Kommissar green screen, and saw what looked like a small circular cabin, built in a bottleneck between a small mountain cliff and a vast forest of thick and foreboding vines and brush.'

"It looks like it someone was there." 662 said gazing below as well. I gazed over the side, and didn't see any activity. too Two chimneys which rose from uneven parts of the thatched and mud roof were still puttering smoke, and a cauldron outside the house outside the front door, was bubbling under a sedate fire. The ship itself was being guided in for a landing by the Doctor's neural connection, and the vessel slid comfortably into what appeared to be a vegetable patch.'

"Uh hm..." Doctor Bandever stammered after his landing. "I'm not entirely certain, but I think I may have just landed in someone's garden."

'662 and I gazed out on both sides. There were tailed and rooted plants protruding from the ground, gigantic fern-like stalks in rows on either side of us. The stalks themselves were weak and looked malnourished, as their braches broke under the initial landing of the Kommissar with ease.'

"Well...regardless of who they belong to, or how strong they were before we landed, we should begin our search for this Rodd-iite." the Doctor declared, deactivating the HUD and activating the exit systems.'

'The door whirred open, and he stepped out quickly. More than likely he was assessing how badly he had damaged the mystery farmer's crops, or he wanted to know whether they were carrots or rutabagas. Still, as 662 passed me to the exit, I got a glimpse of the inside of the larger Kommissar vessel. He had simplified the Kommissar's a lot since my previous suggestions, and removed much of the computer's display and instrument systems. Much of it relied simply upon the holographic HUD, and the computer's green screen, like aboard the Nordius Prime. It was refreshing to look at, and was just another thing Diary3.0 I wish that I had appreciated more in hindsight.'

'Stepping out onto the surface, was hard to do. Well, the gravity itself wasn't necessarily the only issue. It was similar to our own, but slightly off.'

"The variance of gravity itself seems to be off on this earth. While the lunar gravity's effect is noticeable, the rotational axis isn't the same as our worlds at all."

"What does that mean? How can that happen?" I grasped. 662 was silent as he moved to the nearby bubbling cauldron, kneeling down and examing the tracks around it."

'The Doctor paused, flicking something into the display of his bracelet, then his Panel. "Well a hypothesis could be that...our worlds developed after the dinosaurs had been extinct, correct?"

"Correct." I said.'

"Well, perhaps the extinction of the dinosaurs did not occur in the fashion it had on our world. Evolution by its nature in theory would dictate then that mammals and reptiles themselves would evolve together." he thought openly.'

'I gazed about the landscape. The tilled acres with the giant rooted plants lay off to our left, with the larger Kommissar now unloading the compliment of Komm-Bots we had brought. I still had issues with the Doctor's theory.'

"Evolving together? It doesn't seem likely though. At least from what I remember about dinosaurs being capable of simply squashing a smaller mammal." I muttered while gazing over the green skied terrain.'

"Well...perhaps they didn't necessarily 'evolve' together." he said with his fingers. "But perhaps there was a smaller cataclysmic event."

"Smaller?" I spouted. "If there's this much oxygen in the atmosphere now to make all the vegetation and animal life larger, then any meteorite would destroy everything. Hell I'm scared to go near that campfire." I said, pointing to where 662 was edging his fingertips over the outlines.'

'Please Rod, while we're made of the same components and genetic materials, please leave the science to me.' I heard my eardrum ring. I frowned at this, wanting to at least understand how it could even be possible to have dinosaurs and human life, in this case a Rodd-iite, co-exist. I couldn't help but laugh.'

"What if this Rod is actually a small mouse? Or a small human? Or even a dinosaur?" I giggled. I think in retrospect Diary3.0, being on a new planet and the high amount of oxygen was making me giddy.'

'Doctor Bandever rolled his eyes. "We should at least assume that the Rodd-iite we're looking for, is more than likely not a dinosaur."

'662 finally chimed in. "I still do not understand dinosaur, or what this dinosaur you speak of could be." he stammered. "But these tracks here are of a man. A larger man. More than one."

'The Doctor and I walked over to where 662 had kneeled, next to a bubbling cauldron that seemed to be only full of water and what smelled of animal fats and a strange ink-like odor. Nothing was cooking yet.'

"What were they making?" I asked.'

'662 paused, smelling the air around the cauldron, then putting his hand in it briefly. It was simmering away, still hot but not scalding. 662 removed his hand, showing a deep dark ink covering his skin. "It is a smell designed to mask odor. These larger men who were here are hunters."

"Hunters? What do they hunt? Dinosaurs?...People?" I gasped. It seemed dumb now in retrospect, but I wanted to be sure, even if I received strange glances from the Doctor and 662. In my universe when someone sees a bubbling cauldron and the possibility of cave-men, one tends to jump to the conclusion that cannibalism is involved. Maybe I'm just trying to justify even asking Diary3.0.'

"Rod I highly doubt cannibals would keep crops tended." the Doctor mentioned, glancing back to the Kommissar's landing zone. He always made valid points.'

"It's true. On my world such tribes once existed. Outcasts, but met with equal barbarity that they themselves exude."

"Cannibals? On your world?" the Doctor winnowed, broaching his Panel forming a new page.'

'662 nodded, shadowing the tracks of men and what appeared to be a beast leading a cart.

"They ate the flesh of their elders in disgust of their ways, isolating themselves in the rocks to the west of New Khayelitsha near the Lakes of Fingers."

"You mean the Great Lakes?" I asked.'

'662 shrugged, but the Doctor nodded. "Our two worlds seem to have similar names for the same objects Rod. The structures of our worlds and that of 662's are the same, yet the names themselves differ simply for cultural reasons." 662 seemed lost as Doctor Bandever talked about the differences of cultures between us. It was a gap that always would exist between the three of us Diary3.0, and would only rift further with what was to come. At least the Doctor and I had similar cultures and histories. 662's was...well, unique. By now all the Komm-Bots had been deployed and were under the Doctor's neural connection control. They stood nearby in two columns, awaiting his directive.'

"Can you determine which direction they were headed by the tracks 662?" the Doctor asked. "It would appear that my Panel and my bracelet are incapable of tracking this Rodd-iite."

'662 and I were bewildered. "What do you mean?" I asked. "I thought you said you had his signal from orbit?"

'He nodded. "I did, except that either he moved while we were in motion, or more than likely that 'ink' that they're brewing is capable of nullifying the effects of my sensors. Any reading that I took of the Rodd-iite here we're seeking, would be masked by this mixture. This is a strange development, as I haven't seen material like this on our worlds before."

"Something perhaps native to this universe and its earth?" 662 mumbled while looking around the site.'

"My guess would be that. Besides the strange atmosphere, plant life, and animals we may encounter, the mineral deposits here are unique, in that their composition is pliable. Shape-able. I can see why SOLSA had interest in this world."

'I had become so enamored by the camp-site and the potential for cannibals, that I had forgotten SOLSA was here as well. 662 seemed to tense at the mention of the word. The neural-connected Komm-Bots themselves remained stationary, as the Doctor appeared more than calm about SOLSA absence.'

"So our sensors won't work on this world? Or is it just because of the ink?" I asked, peering down at the tracks.'

'The Doctor's face scrunched in thought. "My initial guess...and I do use that term liberally, would be that it is a combination of both until it can be proven otherwise. The ink itself was obviously made to obstruct the smell or ability of a prey to discern a predator or hunter, correct 662?"

'662 nodded. "It would be the most sound act, if this Rodd-iite is indeed a hunter. The tracks themselves of man, beast, and of wheel lead into the jungle" he said pointing outwards to the growth of thick vegetation on the outskirts of the clearing.'

'The Doctor continued. "So the ink itself has properties which negate the ability for us to track. In addition, the atmosphere itself was difficult to navigate and track this campsite, even aboard Nordius Prime. I'd also recommend that you both take these Panels." he said, retrieving them from his lab coat pockets. "They function on their own individual power sources, but they have been adapted for increased stability on this world."

'I wasn't the only one lost this time, as 662's expression seemed to wander. The Doctor sighed.

"These devices, will help shield you from the effects of the atmosphere, using the shield systems we've perfected on 285's world. We can breathe here in the open, but once we enter the growth out there." he said, glancing over past us, "The air will become too thick and toxic for us to tolerate without aid." 662 wrapped his around the handle of his shield, and I put my in my back pant pocket.'

'He walked past 662 and I, following the tracks for himself while the Komm-Bots assembled in a static line behind him. The jungle and trees before us were vast and untamed, stunted slightly, only by a wavering set of wheel tracks which led deep into its shadowy depths. With a motion of invisible thought, the Komm-Bots themselves formed a point, with its tip striding through the

initial brush of forest.'

"This should be fascinating, I've never been in a jungle before!" the Doctor was giddy, always finding the silver lining. "This way gentlemen! The Komm-Bots themselves will clear a good portion of any brush of inhospitable life."

"Inn-hoss-pita-bull?" 662 clutched. The translation module was still touchy, and wouldn't be fixed fully until our return to Nordius Prime.'

"Something that wishes us harm." I said bluntly, with 662 nodding in comprehension. The Doctor himself was out of earshot, walking towards the overgrown trail entrance. 662 and I caught up, trudging close behind him into the dark unknown.'

'When you think of a jungle Diary3.0, many things usually come to mind. You have of course your gigantic insects, snakes of all variety, and occasionally pitfalls, such as man eating animals and quicksand. But this jungle was different. There were no snakes of any sort, though we'd hear the rustling of some small creatures over the chirping and clamping of the Komm-Bot escort. There were occasional bird coos and calls, but they rarely had decibel. The vegetation had been thick, but had been chopped and trampled underfoot by the compliment of robots before us. Though we had a flat path being graded by the Komm-Bots in front of us, exposing the small trail beneath, thick-barked and vine-twisted trunks loomed over us; shrouded by their canopy. The Doctor had no doubt programmed the Komm-Bots with neural thoughts alone, to follow the tracks of the cart and whatever beasts were drawing it.'

'Some of the vines had sharp wirey tendrils that coiled outwards. "Be careful not to be drawn too closely to anything, we're still not certain if the plant-life here is dangerous."

"Dangerous? It seems like it would be asking a lot to be-" As luck would have it Diary3.0, right as I was mocking the notion of carnivorous plants, I tripped on a vine that had been missed by the stomping and clanking feet of the Komm-Bots. It whipped around my leg quickly, like a snare trap, dragging me downward into the ground.'

"What the hell?!" was about all I could manage to say as 662 and the Doctor rushed to my side. Something was gripping my ankle, dragging me deeper into soft ground hidden beneath clumpy roots. 662 stabbed at the ground with his spear, giving up and helping the Doctor grab my arms and waist as I was sucked deeper, until.'

"Panel: Activate sub shield pulse!" the Doctor bellowed. I felt a jolt in my back pocket where I had put the Panel, and the device in my eardrum violently quaked. I found myself grappling my ears with both hands, before I realized that I was above ground, flanked by the Doctor, 662, and the Komm-Bots.'

"What was that all about?" I spouted jumping off the ground. A lesser man would have climbed on top of one of the Komm-Bots, but I hadn't thought of it, or I would have in a heartbeat. "When you said dangerous plants I figured you meant like a venus fly trap or something."

"That was no fly trap..." 662 muttered gazing about our surroundings. The Doctor too, looked concerned.'

"This is troubling. Not only because it's a life form which seems to possess the ability to trap creatures from under the ground, but that it can travel through the shielding systems itself." Doctor Bandever was not amused, as he revealed his own Panel. "May I see your Panel for a moment? Yours too 662."

'I handed mine over, still gasping for air and pacing about in the Komm-Bots' tread prints. 662 unclasped his from his shield, and the Doctor tinkered with both, tapping between them and his bracelet. After some clicks and blips, he handed them back to both of us.'

"That should alter the shield you've been experiencing to emit a sub sonic pulse that was similar to what was displaced."

"Do you think that will stop...whatever that was?" I mumbled, placing the Panel back into my pocket while 662 clipped his back onto his umBhumbluzo.'

'The Doctor shrugged. "A sharp wave of it was enough to weaken its grasp on you and stay underground. Keeping the shield's variance perpetual to the acoustic frequency that quelled it, it should be enough to walk unabated through this jungle without further incident."

'I paused, 662 as well. The Doctor, rolling his eyes now, knew full well he sometimes spoke in a language that not even I could still grasp, and I had known him the longest.'

"The shield should keep the plants away from now on. Simple enough?" the Doctor inquired.'

'He continued to walk on, with the Komm-Bots forming the same point as they had before. "There's no need to be a jerk about me not knowing how it works." I muttered.'

'The Doctor heard this, not even turning about. "I wasn't nominated Person of the Year for inventing, making, and marketing it." he jested, echoing off the tall trunks.'

'I couldn't really say anything to this. I always relied upon the Doctor, or at least had come to. 662 wasn't knowledgeable enough about my history with Doctor Bandever to know it was an insult, and walked on with the group. Still, it was a justifiable one. The Komm-Bots clanked on ahead through the thick brush, and I jogged to catch up with 662 and the Doctor.'

'We had soldiered on through the mangy overgrowth, nary seeing a creature or a sound besides our own footsteps and that of the Komm-Bots leading the charge. We had been walking for what seemed like hours, the hot steamy jungle rendered docile by the shield's internal cooling systems. All the humidity of that world couldn't permeate the Doctor's shielding module, and it was for the best. Zipping open the Panel by clicking and dragging its frame, the temperature was over 100 degree, minus humidity. I felt myself almost gagging even thinking about it.'

"How can anything even survive here?" I said, ending a few hours of silence between the three of us.

"The temperature here is unbearable."

'The Doctor turned back while walking. "Unbearable for us remember, but not this Rodd-iite, whatever he

is."

"You don't think he resembles us in appearance?" 662 asked, tagging behind the Doctor slightly.'

'Doctor Bandever turned back around, but continued talking. "I'd be surprised if he wasn't a person like us to be honest, or at least a mammal of some sort. To suggest that he was a dinosaur of some sort is a bit much to swallow frankly, and I wouldn't be the least surprised if-"

'The Doctor had paused momentarily, and the Komm-Bots themselves had ceased their forward advance. The tracks themselves went off through dank mud, and around a deep green bend shrouded in prickly vines.

"Did any of you hear that?" he asked, taking out his Panel and tapping to a previous page.'

'662 and I had stopped walking. Through the slight breezes and the overturning of leaves, barely a chirp or a wallow was heard throughout the wilderness.

"I hear nothing." 662 stated.'

'I paused briefly before I responded, and before I was about to, I heard a sharp echo. "There. Right there." The Doctor said, tapping his Panel to scan.'

"That, was a gunshot." I said. Living in New York City for as long as I had Diary3.0, it was an unmistakable sound.'

'Doctor Bandever nodded. "There's no mistaking it, the Panel itself is reading the audio effect."

"Cannon-arms? Here?" 662 gaped.'

"Can you track the audio's signal? And pinpoint it?" I thought desperately.'

'Both of them seemed surprised by my suggestion, but the Doctor quickly shook it off and implemented it. He tapped his Panel, and received a generous set of blips and blinks. "That should do it, and the refractory audio generated from the gunshot appears to be capable of being tracked."

'I sighed openly, as another gunshot rung out, this time not far off through the trees. "This way!" the Doctor bellowed, tearing off down the path with the Komm-Bots in tow. 662 grasped his umBhumbluzo and spear off his back, pursuing them into the brush. I was awestruck, and not wanting to be left behind, found myself tearing off after them.'

'Lagging behind them was easy, as I was out of shape, and wearing a now dirty suit with soggy Italian loafers. I hadn't anticipated running through a jungle, or having to walk much at all. I watched as the shadows of the Komm-Bots and 662 disappeared into the humid haziness ahead of me, as I did my best to fjord through the puddles and swampy tracks littering the trail. I was gasping for air, even through the shield's comfort settings. I finally managed to reach them, as I saw them perched over a shallow rocky cliff, overlooking a small clearing. The Komm-Bots, 662, and the Doctor himself, were kneeling over the side of the edge, behind a bramble-ridden bush.'

"Rod! We've found him." Doctor Bandever whispered excitedly.'

"The Rodd-iite?"

'The Doctor nodded, pointing over the cliff into the clearing below. I knelt down and looked through the branches. There below us, was a giant of a Rod. He stood at least 9 feet high, and was dressed in the thick skins I remember him wearing from the dream. The wooly cowboy hat was still atop his head, with a vibrant feather tucked in the top. He was standing in the clearing now, with a blade drawn.'

"What is going on?" I asked.'

'The Doctor's lips parted, and as he was about to detail what he had seen, he simply stopped, pointed his fingers and said "There!"

'662 and I both looked down, to see that the Rodd-iite was being encircled by large, dinosaur like creatures covered in feathers of every variety. They walked about on two legs, but had longer arms with claw-like appendages, and wings that rested on their shoulder blades. Their snouts resembled bird beaks, and large teeth lined their jaws as they hissed menacingly at him. His stance immediately changed, now walking backwards as three of these birds began approaching him. Suddenly, a shadow loomed at him from behind him. I couldn't help what I said next.'

"Look out!" I yelled, prompting the Rodd-iite to turn and see us. Just as I had, the dinosaurs all leapt in unison, striking together at once. Within a flash however, they were reduced to little more than piles of bloody ash and bone. The hairy, overgrown Rodd-iite, remained motionless, as the Doctor walked over the cliff with the Komm-Bots in tow, approaching our new found ally.'

'After a short time, 662 and I too came closer to this Rod, who was now in conversation with the Doctor, and surrounded by Komm-Bots. The Doctor appeared to have an extra Panel that he was trying to offer to this cave man.'

"Take this device called a Panel. It will serve as a translation module for our ability to converse." the Doctor handed it to the new Rod, who studied its blinking briefly before putting it into a pouch on his belt. He hardly seemed a threat, and was less so as he sheathed his blade. He did not seem alarmed by our approach either, and was quite jovial at our presence.'

"662! 285! Eef thaatz how yew go bai." he said, hoarsely laughing to himself. I was more than confused, as was 662.'

"Did the Doctor tell you our names?" I asked.'

'This gave the Rodd-iite a moment of pause. He looked at the both of us, between us and the Doctor, finally uttering "Yew war tha wuns eye saaw in mai dreemz raight? Raight? Eye no eye saaw yew thar." he said, poking me with a hairy finger.'

'I looked at 662, who seemed to feel familiar with this...man. "I recall speaking once in my visions, and seeing his features and face. He is indeed one of the many I saw." he said, grasping the hairy hand of our new friend and shaking it vigorously. "Welcome."

'The giant caveman seemed pleased. It was hard to take him as anything less than that, even if he wielded a knife and a primitive rifle, and seemed to be dressed in the type of garb reserved for a cattle-driver. His affectionate welcome was endorsed by 662 and the Doctor, who was shaking his hand now.'

"So, what do we call you?" I asked. "I do remember you slightly, but I just don't remember your name."

'He looked at me, surprised. "Eye remembar yur name wuz 285. Donnt yew remembar myne?"

'I shook my head, embarrassingly. He looked about, and found that even 662 and the Doctor were clueless by reaction alone. Sighing, he said "Well, mai name iz Raad ohn this eartha. In mai vishuns, Eye've bin culled 859."

'I noticed the Doctor sneak a peek at his newspaper clipping which he still carried in his lab coat pocket. I had remembered that 859 was one of the sets of numbers that were circled. He looked pleased and slid it back into his pocket, as 859 began inspecting the Komm-Bots.'

"Wut dew yew cull theez hurr?" he muffled through his tufted beard.'

'The Doctor stood on his toes smiling proudly. "Those are Komm-Bots. They are a creation of mi- er, ours."

'859 seemed impressed, examining all the various arms and weapons attachments as he circled about them. "Mhade shert werk outta thoze birds. Liike a pare of muh ohwn. H'ow mu'ch?"

'We gawked. "How much, for the Komm-Bots you mean?" the Doctor staggered.'

'859 smiled. "Culd yewze a set ovum fo're huntin' birds." he said, walking over to his vanquished prey. They were little more than puddles of blood and flesh, with a few feathers poking out. "Whel." he said softly. "Cant let'm gu too waste." He unsheathed his serrated knife and sank it deep into the remaining 'bird' flesh. It spurted blood as he yanked the skeleton apart. I found myself becoming queasy, while the Doctor and 662 both had the stomach for natural biology.'

"Fascinating..." the Doctor stammered as he observed the dinosaur being dressed.'

'662 nodded, being the hunter he was, regardless of universes, he and 859 had a bond based upon similar functions and actions. Like myself and the Doctor.'

"So, you're out here by yourself?" I asked.'

'859 shook his shaggy head between cutting and scraping bone. "Eye nev'r go 'lone. Mai folk wint too tha Delta too luk fur wile root."

"The Delta?" the Doctor flicked his Panel, revealing Nordius Prime's map, closing on our vicinity.'

"Wile root?" I whispered to myself.'

'859 nodded. "Tha riv'ar" he said, pointing behind him with his bloody blade. "That're wai."

'The Doctor and 662 gazed out past the clearing bloodied with bird blood and molt. I found myself still clutching my stomach at the splattering of lizard guts across the matted grass floor.'

"These are your birds? Where are your dinosaurs?" I asked longingly. The Doctor too, seemed interested if there were more creatures to offer. 859 seemed perplexed.'

"Dynahsaar?" he muttered. "Whut's thaat?"

'662 nodded in agreement. "I still do not understand this dinosaur."

"Regardless 859, we have pressing matters to which I hope that you can lend help." the Doctor interrupted, with all of us focused at once. "Our mutual enemy, the one which compelled us to seek your assistance and that of 662, is here on your world."

"Wat?!" 859 belted. "Hurr!?" he shook his head. "Eye've bin ull ovar. Eye'da seenum."

'The Doctor disagreed, laying his Panel flat as its display went multi-dimensional. We gathered around it for a better look. "The atmosphere of your world is difficult to 'scan'" the Doctor said, quoting with his fingers. 859 seemed far more receptive than I would have imagined, especially for a borderline caveman.'

"Yew meen bein abul too luk aht wut mai wurldz mhade ohf?" he asked. Even the Doctor paused at this, grinning in agreement.'

"Correct..." he stammered, still partially in shock. "As that would be, it was difficult to get a solid reading on you to track you, as we found at your campsite with the ink concoction in the cauldron."

'He seemed surprised that we had found his home. "Wut'd yew cee thar? Didjya cee mai folk?"

"We saw no-one. Only tracks." 662 stated firmly, scooping a handful of clean molt off of the ground. "May I keep this? As a relic of your world to remember."

'859 seemed to love this, as he leaned down and ripped the lower jaw off the closest bird to him, not entirely liquidated by the Komm-Bots' barrage. "Wunt eets teefth?" he joked, tearing out two of its canines with a simple twist. He offered one apiece to myself and 662, and ripped off the other two for himself and the Doctor. "Shar n shar aliak." he muttered, gutting the remainder of the bird. He had incredible strength, and even 662 marveled at it.'

"Your strength is uncanny." he said softly, with 859 rising, bird skull in hand. This made the cave-Rod smile, as he whistled in a strange and shrill tone, eliciting a rustle from the other side of the clearing. The two Rodd-iites seemed tense, and the Komm-Bots themselves, under the neural guidance of the Doctor, began to fan out in a point as before. 859 noticed this, and immediately put his hands up as the rustling drew nearer.'

"Stap! Stap eet! Dun schute! Dun schute!" he waved his arms in the air, standing tall between us and the rustling brush. He towered over the Komm-Bots themselves, and finally we saw what he had prevented us from firing upon. Diving out of the brush, was one of the largest and strangest horses I'd ever seen.'

'It had to have been at least 20 feet tall. While it resembled a horse, it had three prong claws at the end of each massive hoof. Its colors were zebra stripes across its flanks and body, with a black tail and a brown face. It had large canines and neighed softly. If it hadn't, I would have mistaken it for a lesser evolved Jack Russel terrier based upon the colors itself.'

"What...is this?" the Doctor said, wooing the animal softly. It leaned closer to him, trembling the soft mud beneath its weight. He ran his hands up and down its strange fur. "It's almost like quills, come feel this." he said, motioning to 662 and I. 662 seemed impressed too, as I ran my hand across its hair. The 'quill' like fur was indeed smooth to the touch when patting backward. But with a forward motion, I nicked my hand. Its hairs were coarse and rigid when not patted along the grain, almost like shark-skin. 859 seemed proud that his mount commanded such attention from all of us.'

"Rayzed 'err frum ah foal eye did. Shaark say'd shi wuz tha runt o da litta." he whispered softly, rubbing the ears of his animal."

"Shaark? Who's that?" I wondered aloud.'

'859's expression hazed, and I witnessed for the first time, a primordial expression of displeasure. His eyes had slimmed and his stature had turned rigid. The Doctor and 662 had made note of this, but 859 responded before they had a chance to.'

"Shaark...wuz sum summabitch frum Bhackthurn."

"Baackthurn? Is that a town?"

"Naw naw. Bhack Thurn. Enn Thurn, baack thar." he said, pointing off another direction from the clearing. The Panel's translator module still left much to be desired.'

'The Doctor leaned over to me, still patting the horse. "I think he's trying to say that the person you're referring to comes from a place called Thurn." he said, looking at 859 for a form of agreement.'

"Yep. Thurnz thattawayz. Shaark yewzd ta' breedem. Wuz bhad at et. Eh thott eh'd mayk moar keelin' royaltee. Eh'z dead nao, summabitch." He didn't seem too concerned with whoever this Shaark was, and it seemed his world was better off without him anyway. It also seemed like 859 had done a great deal to remove himself from whatever society Shaark and the 'royalty' he was referring to were a part of. The Doctor, knowing full well the gravity of engaging in awkward topics, attempted to steer the conversation back to rationality.'

"So what's your animal's name?" he asked still petting the beast.'

'859 smiled proudly again. "'Err nayme's Rawksy." scratching her neck softly.'

'The Doctor smiled at this, patting Rawksy further along the grain. "Pleasure to meet you!" he said excitedly. "If only we had more time, I'd love to know more about your world."

'859 threw up his hands in feigned disgust. "Thiz wurld, taykes tew much, n geeves tew littl'." he scoffed.

"Wide' yew kar 'bot thoze apples' fur?"

"Apples?" I muttered, pulling out my Panel. The translation still wouldn't be altered until we had returned to Nordius Prime for its update.'

'A loud crash emanated from far away, across the other side of the clearing.'

"Thay'd kome tha Delta." 859 crooned, gazing across the clearing.'

"The Delta is that way?" the Doctor asked, his eyes widening as he glanced at the Panel. "That is the same direction that the scan approximated the location of SOLSA."

'662 had already gripped his spear and his shield off his back. "Do they come for us?"

'The Doctor looked confused. "As I mentioned because of the atmosphere, I can't make a proper reading with the filters we have available. I'll have to modify them when we return to the ship." he groaned, putting the Panel back into his lab coat pocket. "Do you know the way to the Delta 859?"

'He smiled, exposing yellow and grey spikes. "Clim' ohn uhp!" he belted, picking up the Doctor by his back, and depositing him halfway up the side of Rawksy. The Doctor laughed nervously at this, as he climbed a rough hide saddle to the top of its back. 662 leapt up with ease, his foot meeting the stirrup with grace. 859 held out a massive and hairy palm which I took as he threw me aboard the enormous horse. He himself mounted the steed with ease, and even the Doctor was shocked at how much Rawksy would withstand of our weight.'

"Lead on!" the Doctor said excitedly.'

'With a grunt and a swift heel to her flank from 859, Rawksy snarled and stampeded through the clearing to the other side, crashing through the brush to the Delta with the Komm-Bots sprinting in tow.'

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26.

'Rawksy's clawed hooves tore apart the undergrowth, as the three of us held on for dear life. 859 had leaned forward a thick reptile saddle, looming over the horse-beast's neck. 662 and the Doctor both seemed to be enjoying themselves, with the Doctor cackling loudly.'

'RhadNe, was clutching the side of the heaping saddle, lurching to the side, dodging the ample branches with ease. The Doctor had donned a pair of sunglasses, grinning over 859's shoulder. For the first time in a while, he was having a good time. Who would have thought it would be on the surface of an almost Jurassic earth. The distance between the clearing and the Delta was further than 859 had grasped. I looked behind us to see the Komm-Bots sprinting behind us, leaping occasionally over a tree trunk left in Rawksy's wake. Our path was a grass animal strip, a road traversed by creatures on his world that veined through the massive trunks.'

"Tha paath weh crassed wuz lhongar cuz ohf whar eye whent." he bellowed with Rawksy grunting over her galloping.'

"Why were you there?" the Doctor yelped, dodging a tree branch from the left side.'

"Bhird hunn'tn! Lyek bhak thar wit thaat Rubut shoot'n!" he crooned, flashing a yellow toothed grin. Rawksy continued at break-neck speed around the narrow padded grass trails. I saw small creatures that resembled rabbits and small dogs jumping out of the path into the overgrowth to evade her charge.'

'We were approaching what looked like a clearing ahead, but in actuality was a large drop, over one-hundred feet at least, into a deep crevice with a narrow riverbank below. Rawksy's hooves clamored to a stop just before the edge, sending the three of us flying forward into the back of the caveman. He remained unhinged in the saddle, and gazed downward.'

"Thiz wazunt har befar..." he whispered, looking across the narrow chasm. Something had split the earth itself in two, dividing what once must have been a small stream or creek. The Doctor seemed surprised.'

"You didn't hear, or notice the earth itself shaking apart? Forming this gigantic mass between land? The seismic disruption alone must have at least been noticeable from where you lived!" the Doctor echoed wildly across the new canyon. He was jumping around on Rawksy's back, which was ample and strong enough to support the three of us with ease, as well as the massive 859.'

"Eye slueep rhal eezee." the caveman said, sipping his flask. The Doctor looked furious, but turned when a distant crackle in the brush began, then grew louder. Out of the wilderness came out escort, the Komm-Bots. They had been lagging in tow, dragging large ferns and other vegetation in their wake. Their servos had been ridden with vines and mud, and were in need of repair. The Doctor noted this, and we all jumped off the massive horse.'

"These Komm-Bots have been over cumbered. I didn't think about the possibility of trekking through untamed jungle at the speed of...well whatever that is." he said, pointing at Rawksy. "Their servos weren't designed to repel jungle."

"What about the shield? I thought it was supposed to repel things." I asked.'

'The Doctor's mustache furrowed in the green afternoon. "The shields themselves are designed for different purposes. The Kommissar's shield for example, may have been tuned to repel vegetation like this." he said, pointing at the nearest Komm-Bot's hip servo, logged with green churned hedges and mud. "But only because it's designed for aerial travel, where it's necessary to have a guidance computer that can process multiple dimensions of space. The Komm-Bot on the other hand." he said, kicking a nearby rock, "Has a combat based shielding system. It's basic, in the sense that it's designed only to repel high impact weapons, and to prevent water and gaseous or corrosive damage." he said flailing his arms. He seemed upset and the Komm-Bots were chirping his various neural commands to repair or diagnose themselves.'

"Why didn't you just put the Kommissar shields onto the Komm-Bots?" It seemed like a reasonable question, but once again I had proven that I was the worst CEO in any universe.'

"Rod...you did read about these products? Which we make? The main reason why we can't use the higher end multi-spatial shield for Komm-Bots, is because the Electron Cells that Komm-Bots use, are much smaller than those used by the Kommissar. The Kommissars use Industrial Fuel cells." he belted, pacing about in the humidity. "Even the cells they use are bigger than the Komm-Bots themselves."

'859 had taken some long vines from a nearby tree, and was kneading a twisted rope while the Doctor ranted. "Eye thynk werr gunna haftah clyyme dowhn." he said, peering over the side. Rawksy snarled a primitive whinny, and the three of us joined the caveman in looking down into the chasm.'

"It's deep." 662 blurted.'

"Too deep..." I was transfixed on the narrow bends and berms of the stream below. The rocks lining the walls themselves did not look weathered, and many dirt and mud covered roots still clung to the sides.'

"What could have done this? Created such a rift?" 662 stammered.'

"Nuttin' eye nahh" 859 grunted, producing a hip flask. He took a generous swig and handed it to the Doctor. It may have been a hip flask for him, but it was the size of a bottle for us. The Doctor passed it to 662.'

"I abstain from chemicals that my own body doesn't produce on its own. Scientific diet, you understand." the Doctor smirked.'

'662's eyes widened when he sniffed the concoction. "I too will pass on this substance. I am accustomed to the leaf of my world."

'859, for a Caveman, began to look disheartened. We resembled each other, but contrasted in strange and bizarre ways. He seemed the most content and stable with the idea too, so I felt it best to humor him.'

"I'll take a swig of that!" I said, grabbing the large flask.'

"Well you should...wait Rod!" the Doctor's warning came too late.'

'I wasn't an accomplished drinker, but I could barely taste anything which compelled me to guzzle as much as 859 had. Even his face had grown surprised, and he quickly leaned over and grabbed the flask back.'

"Eye dunn mhind shayrinn, mbutt alotta thizz ayyin't mennt fur yew, er ebben meeh." 859's words slowly began to slur together, as my vision itself became hued in a strange shade of green. It was as though the atmosphere and the sky itself had begun to color everything. 662 and the Doctor squinted at my glazed stare, and 859 took another swig and folded it back into his hip belt.'

"What do you see? What is it like?" the Doctor asked curiously, producing his Panel.'

'I didn't know what to say. Drug use wasn't a common thing for me in my youth Diary3.0, I have to admit, and even though I stayed the path of abstinence, I didn't seem to break the mold for success either. "To be honest Doctor Bandever, everything is green." I said, putting my hands to my head. It felt as though my body was correlating its actions by waves, like a rhythm was pulsating within me. As I mentioned before, I wasn't a 'user', so all of this was a new experience for me.'

"So everything has gone green...and it would appear that your blood is lacking oxygen, but the atmosphere itself is heightened with its content. Are you feeling sick, or woozy?"

'My head was shaking, or at least my vision was. 662 was leaning in closer. "Your eyes...they're turning a deep red."

'It was true. The lack of oxygen in my blood was making my eyes and vision thick with a reddish green hue now, and it burned my eyes when the lids were open.'

"Are you feeling discomfort? Look at me Rod." The Doctor and 662 eased me to the ground, as 859 looked on sighing. "Eye shudda knhon bettur." Doctor Bandever, was not amused.'

"What is in that concoction? You do brew it don't you?" he stood up, waving his Panel over 859's hip. He smiled and handed it to the Doctor.'

"Naahhtrall. All naahhtrall frhum tha varyus kroppsn' fharrest barryeez. Mhasty eetz Sucklevin'gar, frum tha planntz." he grunted proudly, pounding his hand to his chest. "Eye wulldn'a mayde urr dranket eff et wuzznt."

'My head was throbbing with...well green Diary3.0 Not the envious kind, the nauseous kind. Before I knew it, I was seeing various bubbles in my vision, which made it almost impossible to see. Just in the distance, I saw a flicker of light, followed by a deep and rumbling groan from the earth beneath.'

'This stuff's pretty strong.' I stammered. My wit was lost, as the Doctor, 662, and our new caveman friend all stared off into the horizon at what was not simply a drunken hallucination.'

"What was that?" The Doctor staggered. "It wasn't an explosion. Much like the crash we had heard before.'

"You mean it wasn't just me?" I was shocked. That brew really sent me for a loop.'

'662 and 859 gazed into the flash, unmoved. "Never have I seen such a device." 662 boggled, transfixed. When I had shaken off the green remnants of my lucid mead fueled vision, I joined their stares off across the canyon, deep into the jungle before us and off to the other side near the river's Delta.'

'Across from the ravine and about a mile into the jungle, was a gigantic tower Diary3.0. It had four sides, a framed obelisk structure pointed upwards and surrounded by loud, crackling blue beams of electricity. It pointed upwards and had revealed a scorched clearing all around it when it had suddenly appeared. There was a bubble around, translucent, which had slowly begun to dissipate.'

"Eye nevvr sin that bafur." 859 blurted, taking another swig from his monstrous canteen. Rawksy looked longingly down the canyon below.'

"That is unnatural for any world." 662 muttered, staring out across the new valley.'

'The Doctor on the other hand, was more focused on the shielding effect, and the electric resonance that came from the location of 859's hunting party.'

"859, that tower, isn't it where your friends were hunting?"

'He nodded, clucking to Rawksy who ambled next to him in a half step.'

"Is there a way to get down, a faster way to get across this that doesn't involve rope?" the Doctor asked. We all looked about us. "I am signaling to the Kommissar to meet us at the Delta's location. I'm also coordinating the neural commands aboard the Nordius Prime to deploy additional Kommissars to that location."

"You think it's SOLSA?" I asked. Dumb question admittedly in retrospect. My fellow Rodd-iites looked at me like I was crazy.'

"What else could it be?" 662's eyes re-fixing across the canyon.'

"Eye ainnt nevar zeen eet. Nevar. Eye bin evvrawr ruwond hur." 859 said bluntly. His breath coarsed with his honeydew mead, worse than mine. He turned back to Rawksy, patting her neck and tightening her girth for the trip below.'

"Rod, are you still feeling the effects of that drink?" The Doctor scanned me with his bracelet and the Panel. He looked concerned that the drink had scrambled my mind, while 859 rolled his eyes.'

"Well aside from thinking everything was green and that explosion was a part of it, I think I'm ok." I gauged. I didn't feel the queasiness or the lapse in consciousness like I had before. The pulsing of my head had stopped too.'

"Good. I think the exposure to that alcohol in your digestive tract produces an intense gas which rendered an additional effect on your physiology. But no matter. You, I, 662 and 859 must reach that site immediately. I am sending the Komm-Bots on ahead. Their servos will not be as powerful, and we may actually reach the Delta before they do unfortunately." he said, tapping his Panel. The Komm-Bots formed a line and trudged off the cliff and down into the river below. 662 and 859 watched, amazed.'

"Fantastic." 662 stammered, watching the Doctor's inventions fjord the river after falling into the chasm. The Komm-Dots danced across the bottom ravine and eased over the rocks down the river. 859 chuckled hoarsely.'

"Thaarr awwraight, nathin' laik hayvin yur ohwn ahrm atcha heep thow, theyn' yew dungotta beeilld eet." he said, tapping his hand cannon gracefully. His gun, was little more than a primitive handgun with a long shoulder stock of thick wood. It was nothing short of a single shot cannon, its barrel and round massive, but small in comparison to the beast who was wielding it. Being that his world seemed to have lacked any form of serious metallurgy or craftsmanship, it was probably the best weapon he could get.'

"Why didn't you just keep them with us?" I asked.'

'The Doctor's raised a finger. "As I said, they will probably beat us to the location even with their servo damage since they're able to simply drop off the cliff."

"And if they're not?" I whispered. 662 and 859 probably heard me, but were still entranced by the scorching tower in the distance.'

"It's worth to take the chance Rod. We may not be able to directly impact the battle against SOLSA ourselves, but the Kommissars and the Komm-Bots can do much more than we can."

'662 wanted revenge. "I came to destroy SOLSA for what they have done to my people." 859 chuckled at this, with 662 turning to glare at him. The two of them had squared off, with the towering cowboy-caveman looking down at the shield-backed Zulu warrior.'

"You who have no people, who lurk in the wilderness like the savage you represent." 662 choked back rage, as the caveman sipped on his flask. "You demean my quest, my world? Who are you to dare such things?" he was shaking now, not quivering, but bubbling over with rage. The damage SOLSA had done to 662's world had not rested within him, even if his kinsman aboard the ship and on his planet were living past it. 859 was more empathic than we realized, his smirk abating when he noticed the true angst that RhadNhe felt. The Doctor, stepped in between the two of them.'

"This is unnecessary, all of this!" he bellowed, looking between the two of them. 662 grimaced angrily, his fists at his side, while 859 razzing them both with a drunken tongue, delivered his own swaggered reply.'

"Mah 'peepul'" he said, flicking his monstrous hairy fingers like the Doctor's, "Arr owt harr, rhwound harr summwar. Errwunn'ells ohn thizz Rhock arr enn eet fur thumsalves n'unli thumsalves." he swigged from his seemingly endless flask. "Dhunnoh wut yew warr thankun' outhurwase." he said shaking his flask at 662. "Ahnd eye dhunnoh wut yew war thankun' wit'theeze har tew RhadNhe, eef eye zaid eet raight." he smiled.'

'662's hands unclenched at this, as he stared down the caveman Rod. "What do you know of me?"

'859, drunken and in his own element, leaned against a docile Rawksy. "Jeest cauz yew khan bharley git muh werdz, dun meen eye c'hant thank uhn muh ohn." the Panel translator module struggled to keep up. "Eye no, yew theenk yer peepul gibba dam bout yew!" he said, slurping another swig and swallowing. "Thi dunt! Eye no, ebben hurr. Wut bout yer...ahwor Rhadd-dytes braddars." he said choking back laughter between the spit he hawked off the cliff. "Haahd wi no theyze nhut enn eet fur themselves tu?"

'662's eyes slimmed, and he stood motionless and without a word. 'Rod, don't say anything. Let what must be, must be.' I heard my eardrum ring. Apparently my ear device still functioned through the atmosphere, as the Doctor instructed me to remain free of the argument between the two Rodd-iites.'

"These two, these allies as I have come to know them, know of SOLSA, the monster who lay below. The monster who slew my people and ravaged my world!" 662 fumed with 859 looking downwards. "They are creatures with no honor and know only savagery."

"Wudda thay luk leik?" the caveman muttered. "Yew eva zeen'm?"

'RhadNhe shook his head. "Never their flesh, only their metal minions and flying contraptions."

'859 snorted. This didn't bode well.'

"You mock what I have seen? With my own eyes and fought with my own hands?" 662 steamed, his fists rising. The Doctor looked concerned, and even I thought a fight was going to break out. A giant caveman out of the old west, versus an infuriated Zulu warrior half his size. Even the Doctor couldn't calculate a winner; the odds were that even.'

"Eye dunt' mhack wut yew sin. Eye'm sayn' yew dunno wut yew zaw. Yew juss thank yew ded."

'662 waited for the Panel's translation before he replied. "Think I did? A warrior does not need to think." he boasted, straightening up. "A warrior is guided by his intuition, his feeling. Surely you can agree with that as the hunter you appear to be." RhadNhe was a much better diplomat than I had given him credit for, even now. The Doctor seemed surprised by his persuasion too. 859 crossed his arms, leaning against Rawksy, who was chewing a nearby tree leaf.'

"Eye ah'm ai huntur, ur ah skinnur, cull eet wut yew'ill. Dun meen eye wunna fullow theym whround." he said, pointing at us menacingly.'

'662 was curious. "Why do you feel this way? Why do you feel this hostile will towards our friends? Towards us?"

'The caveman seemed riled "Dey ayint'us'n yew ayint' mi!" he said wildly sipping more of his flask. 662 seemed riled by this just as much.'

"Stop that! Enough of your drinking! Why do you feel this way towards the Rodd-iites?"

'859 bristled, with Rawksy snorting. "Eye'membur muh vishuns, muh draeymz. Eye'membur tha Radd-ayights, ur whut yew cull'm. Eye'membur cyin' uhll'dis biphur, 'ngoyin'lung. S'alla lode."

'Uh oh.' I heard my eardrum shake. I never knew the Doctor to say 'Uh oh' Diary3.0, but this couldn't have been a good thing.'

"What do you mean, load?" 662 stammered. Thankfully the Panel hadn't crossed the caveman's language the RhadNhe's Zulu dialect yet. I could see the Doctor breath a slight sigh of relief before 859 drawled on.'

"Eye'membur 662, n' ull'yew. Eye'membur ngoyin'lung n'zynin' ohn wit meh nhayme azz sum'kyda zimbul.."

'The Doctor looked bewildered. "You remember being given your designation? Your name in the form of a number?" he asked the cave-Rod.'

"Muh nhayme izz muh ohn. Bhut yew, een muh draeymz culled'meh 859. Yew gabe owt nhaymes ohf yer ohn tew errywun tharr."

"I did?" the Doctor muffled. "In one of your Rodd-iite dreams?"

'859 nodded. Doctor Bandever turned to 662 and myself. "Do either of you remember this happening?"

'I certainly didn't. "I do not remember such from my dream." 662 said. "But I may not have had this dream yet."

"Had it yet?" the Doctor asked.'

'RhadNhe nodded, gazing out across the ravine to the bubbled tower. "On my world, it is customary to value one's visions. But the visions themselves do not come all at once. The pieces are laid before you as time goes on, and your growth, your choices guide whether you value the truth for what the pieces are."

'The Doctor was surprised, this time by his eloquence. The Doctor clearly hadn't anticipated that a Zulu doppelganger had any introspective value to impart. 859 was impressed as well.'

"Thayatz tha wayi eet wuz fur meh tew. Errthyme eye'zaw tha Radd-ayights eet wuz nebbur een ordurr. Errthyme eet wuz wun'r'tew thayngs happnyn'. Nevvurr th'ole tayle. Nevvurr ani'tang moar thinn bitzn'peeces. Uhll eye'membur izz'at eet dun ternowt whell."

'We all stood looking at him. "It doesn't turn out well? Do you remember anything more to justify that?" the Doctor asked, Panel in hand.'

'The lumbering 859 shrugged, still banked off Rawksy's hip. "Zameazz'eye'membur yew thyree. Eye juss'no thayt eet ayinghn't whudd'eye wunt."

'662 was blistering now, stepping closer to the cavemen. "You disrespect our allies? Our kinsmen from other worlds?"

'The caveman spit on the ground. Even Rawksy stopped her chewing. "Dey ayinghn't mai keenzmin. Eye no'mai keenzmin. Eye mhay'nevur sin thayt bephur." he said pointing off across the horizon at the obelisk with the electrical dome. "Byut SOLSA, whudd'yever yew cull'm,...Eye ayinghn't zeen'm. Eye'maya zeen yew bephur, byut thayt dunn'mina thayng."

'662 bubbled furiously as the translation finally spoke in his dialect. "Don't mean a thing? Have you not heard what I said?" he said pacing closer to the caveman. He was directly in 859's looming shadow, with Rawksy looking back between the two of them. They were locked in brutal stares.'

"Yew'guna mayk summthin'a'dis?" 859 said, standing up off of Rawksy. The Doctor in his wisdom, threw himself between them to stifle the impending brawl.'

"Gentlemen please! If you've been willing to listen to me thus far and have the capacity to continue to do so, then listen now!" he bellowed. It was enough to silence the jungle, as there was no real vibrant life that sung out anyway. 662 and the caveman, both were standing upright, squared off against the other.'

"We are in no position now to consider fighting amongst ourselves! We have now, the opportunity to stop SOLSA here on 859's world." he said, slapping the rigid caveman's side. "But also the ability to find a way to track SOLSA entirely!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, drawing closer to them all. We were almost in a circle now, the Doctor attempting to separate 662 and 859.'

'The Doctor drew his Panel, lengthening the width of the flat screen as he held the glowing screen flat. Graphs and percentages began to be emitted from its electrical plane, showing illustrations of 859's world, specifically, his atmosphere.'

"'Ahat's zumthin' r'ahgt thar." 859 was entranced by its glow, as 662 peered down at it as well.'

"This object, whatever it is." the Doctor said pointing across the ravine and back to the Panel, "Must possess whatever information is necessary to track SOLSA using TransFlash the next time."

'I crossed my arms doubtfully. "How do you figure exactly?"

'The Doctor gritted his teeth through the Panel's display. "Deduction, is the only true method we have at our disposal at the moment."

"Dee-duck-shun?" 662 grappled.'

"It means RhadNhe that what we seek, must be here, given that SOLSA themselves were here and are incapable of being tracked by our current means aboard Nordius Prime. We have yet to explore that region over there." he said pointing again. "Yet we know that we cannot track SOLSA without additional information. Information that they most likely left here." He clicked his Panel off and walked to the edge of the ravine. "Deductive reasoning has led us to this point, in a clear path, and continues on to that tower. What we seek, is there. By contrast, what we require to track SOLSA, is also there."

"Wull eef uhll wi gutta'dew iz go'dhar, whutt'r wi waytin' fur?" 859 gritted, with 662 nodding in stern agreement.'

'The Doctor waved his hands in disagreement. "Our roles, all of ours, are too vital at the moment to be thrown into combat at this early in our understanding."

'The caveman and RhadNhe fumed. "My life is one governed for combat. These monsters must die. Why do you stay our hand and ask our hindrance?" 662's bare fists were clenching again, with 859 standing idle, awaiting a reason.'

"We already know that they possess the same weapons as we do, the Kommissars and Komm-Bots. According to 662, he himself had never seen a SOLSA creature before, which means that they were being controlled from elsewhere. This, could be that elsewhere gentlemen." Doctor Bandever belted, overlooking the valley again. 662 was unsatisfied.'

"But are you certain that SOLSA is indeed here? By that I mean the creatures which wield your weapons?"

"This is the first time we have encountered SOLSA on the ground. Not simply Kommissars or Komm-Bots, but an actual signal of SOLSA itself. We have no idea what to expect across the ravine." he said echoing. "None of us have experienced combat with them first hand. I-"

'An explosion came from the obelisk before the Doctor could finish. This was unlike the crashes and flashes of light we had seen before. The remnants of the spherical shield which hung above the tower had fully disappeared, and the echo of what sounded like gunfire in the distance rang up the sides of the rocky cliff face.'

"More gunshots? Who could it be?" I gasped.'

'859's face had hardened, wrinkling his features deeply, illustrating a deep and brewing rage. "Thyat thurz muh fulk! Thayz fahtin'!" he stomped into the stirrup of Rawksy's saddle. "Urray Ahp! Urray Ahp!" he screamed, motioning upward. 662 leapt aboard with the Doctor standing begrudgingly below.'

"We should really wait for the Kommissars and the Komm-Bots to do the work for us 859. The Komm-Bots themselves are already en route to the location across to the Delta." he said calmly, producing his Panel. "They should arrive there shortly and I'll get notification when they do. I can have the larger cargo Kommissar which is already near your home to fly and pick us up here. I know you'd like to think it's best otherwise."

'859 glared from on high atop Rawksy, looming over him, with 662 near the edge of the enormous saddle's back. "Yer rayght! Eye du'no betar! Nao eef yew wunnah wulk, bi muh gyest!" he motioned, pointing to a thick rustle of brush. Through its branches, I could see deep within where light barely allowed, to a narrow animal path which ran along the young crevice's right, along uprooted and restless tree trunks. The caveman extended his hairy grip downwards, with RhadNhe motioning us up.'

"Let us go, to vanquish this evil!" RhadNhe bolstered firmly on Rawksy's back, pointing to the distant obelisk.'

'Doctor Bandever sighed. 'It doesn't look like we have a choice Rod.' my eardrum hummed again. He ambled up Rawksy's side with the caveman's hand, and settled himself in the back behind the saddle where 662 perched. I grabbed the left side of Rawksy's saddle, and 859 grabbed me by my collar, choking and hoisting me aboard. Before I had a chance to get settled, the cavemen had slammed his heels into Rawky's girth, crooning wildly, and we tore off through the brush, down the animal track, and to the delta's face below.'

'The ravine's walls dipped to a sandy bank along the river where the stream below met. "Eye'm'guna rhyde up'tha baynk, byut eye'ma commin'rhwound tha'zide en thouse'booches'n'treeze." 859 shouted over Rawksy's clamoring hooves. The Doctor nodded, again donning a pair of sunglasses for the bumpy ride down the slope. 662 had leaned over to the side to watch our descent fearlessly, while I clung to the rear of the saddle. Each jump Rawksy made downwards flung the three of us forward into the caveman's massive back, nearly teetering off.'

"Grahb'dem layches! Grabbum!" the Caveman didn't want us to fall off, and the enormous saddle had many different belts and straps, harnessed to the stirrups and girth. There were more than enough to hold onto, and it made the leaping descent easier as we reached the bottom of the steep crevice. Rawksy forded the shallow stream at the base, and reached the other shore of the ravine leading up to the path which had been cut.'

'Gunshots continued to ring out. One, then another, never a repetitive or automatic shot. They were sporadic, single and blasting occasionally an echo off the trees we raced past. We weren't being shot at, but the gunfire itself seemed to be growing closer and closer. The trail to the Delta was littered with the tracks of wheels and beast, evident that we were closing in on the 859's 'folks.' My blood curdled when I heard a horrifying scream, coming deep from the path ahead. Rawksy relented, snorting angrily at something ahead and ground her clawed hooves to a shaky halt.'

"Sha'ee'zmellin' sumfin..." 859 growled, fidgeting in the massive seat. "Dhunno'wut it'izz."

'Distant shouting, and another gunshot rang out through the trees. Another scream, a different one, broke the air, and snapped 859's hesitation.'

"Ahrt! Ahrt!" he screamed. He knew the voice that was in trouble, and his heels met Rawksy's intimidated girth, kicking her into the clearing that lay before us. We emerged from the jungle into the shadow of the obelisk, a towering four-faced structure that pulsated with blue electricity. Large circular metal cylinders protruded from framed surfaces on it, which charged energy from a familiar source; four nearby PTEKK Industrial Electron Cells at each of its corners.'

"Look! Those ar-" before I could finish Rawksy steered us into a shootout. Before us was an overturned wagon next to one which had lost its horses to drive it. Three hairy figures, shuddered behind it as...something...tore into another hairy clothed cavemen, like our 859, turning and throwing him and his hand rifle aside. Behind this four-legged monster, stood two weathered Komm-Bots, covered in grime, whose smaller arms appeared to be reloading their honeycomb guns. 859 was enraged, kicking Rawksy onward as he drew his gun.'

'The creature turned back to the imminent trouncing, in time to have its head split by a large bored round. 859's rifle was primitive, but brutally efficient, spraying the ground with solvent green blood which stank of fermentation. His juggled Rawksy's reins, veering her around the Komm-Bots who were still reloading their rusty guns. 662 took this opportunity, leaping off the horse's back and splintering the head and legs of the closest Komm-Bot, it falling disabled to the ground. Before the second Komm-Bot could reload, another shot came from behind the crippled carriages, which blew off its lower leg. 662 slammed his iWisa, a gnarled club, into its arms as it tried to fire desperately. The final blow was 859's; a gigantic bullet boring a perforated set of holes through its larger rear pack. It stumbled, fell into the mud chirping and twitching, and finally ceasing.'

"Ahrt!" 859 bellowed, leaping off Rawksy and running to one of the cavemen on the ground. The other was unmoved and seeped blood, his large animal eyes locked open in terror. The three other cave-people were clutching to the back of a wagon, behind another which was overturned and smoldering from Komm-Bot light shot. 'Ahrt', the hairy target of the SOLSA's fury, was lying on the ground, sputtering blood. 859 had run to him, now kneeling at his side.'

'The Doctor and I dismounted the now docile Rawksy, who padded over to the giant Rod on her own. The other three cave-people remained stationary behind the wagon, their beady eyes peering out across the clearing at us all.'

"Ahrt! Whut wuzzat!?" our caveman bellowed, clutching his hairy friend. He was bleeding badly, and it stained what looked like some kind of flaxen shirt in a dark red. We huddled as close as we could to see what had happened to him. Large bites, resembling human teeth and insect's mandibles had chewed through part of his torso exposing his ribcage.'

"Eye...eye'dunnah" Ahrt flustered between a few bloody gags. His fingers ripped the ground frantically, digging for breath that wasn't there.'859 glanced around him, seeing the others huddled behind the carriage.

"Yew juss'guna zit'thar?!" he shouted furiously. Out behind came the three other cavemen; all with thick fore brows and clad in thick tufted hair clothed under basic flaxen sheets and hides. All of them were considerably smaller than our 859 and his other friend, slightly taller than myself. They each had their own rucksacks slung over each shoulder, and carried their own variations of the hand-rifle that the others used. Our cave Rod's attention focused back to his fallen friend, who in the passage of time had stopped breathing, and had come to gaze at the sky above past all of us. There was silence, aside from a growing audible strain emitted from 859 in the form of a soft pant, steadily growing more fierce and erratic.'

"Wut'appin'd? Whut wuzz'ull'at?" 859 bellowed, rising above the smaller cave-men. They shuddered as he loomed over, walking backward and clearly shaken already from what they had seen. Our Rod had backed them far away from his fallen friends and the SOLSA creature, with 662 close behind. The Doctor and I kept our distance at first, but moved in, away from the bodies as they began to speak.'

"Ohur d'ere...thar wuz'izz bhird. Eet wuz'uhn tha trayle'n hurr." the shortest and baldest one said softly.'

"Dizz bhird...eet wuz'a butiff'ul. Deh ploo'medge, n'dem hydez braight n' rhare." the hairiest one said pointing across to the thick trees closer to the Delta. "Eet run'offn' thar. Rayght bephur eet'diyd, Benn got'eet wit'a wad."

"Wad?" I asked.'

'859 lost focus, pointing at his hand-rifle. "Whut eet fi-yers." he turned back to the cavemen. "Whut'lse dedyew si?"

"Wull, whin'Benn'thar sho'dat tha'bhird'fur eet ru'nin'dar, zum'fin gut'eet frum'da wad e'shot. Eet mayde'is lowd BROOWGGG" the one with what looked like spectacles clamored, waving his arms and spooking Rawsky. He was standing behind the other two, though you'd hardly think they were anymore than a ball of hair unless they moved apart. Our caveman sneered, prodding them for more information.'

"Whut'ulse?" he gritted.'

'The three of them seemed jittered enough. "Benn'eh zaw zumfin whut'luk'd ly'ke eh lynae, dat'wint uhpn' cu'mduwn. Eh tuk'nuther shottatit whin'et blu'eap." the bald one said, making a ring of an explosion with his hands.'

"His gun did that?" the Doctor asked.'

"Who'dey?" the spectacled caveman inquired.'

"Mai'err, fulks, layer' ay's ohn three'tha dudest fiw'frum muh drayemz" our Cave-Rod boasted, moving aside to reveal us from behind him. "Thiz'ezz 285, 662'n'tha 'Doktar"' he said, quoting with hairy fingers. "Rhaddites, theez'r muh'fulks, thiz'hurz Stert, Blarne'z da'wun wit'deh eckstra ei'z." he pointed at the cavemen with glassed, "N'dat shyneehed'z Dern." he blurted still half drunk, ending at his bald friend. The three of them nodded to the three of us, their eyes locked in primal reading, our emotions a book of their own language. Rawksy had ambled away from the tree line she had run off to and was grazing at some wild grass near all of us.'

"Whutz'whit der' cuvrinz?' Dern pointed at the Doctor and I. "Thayt wunz'a skinnur ly'ke'uz, byut thoz'tew, wutz'whit'm?" he was boggled. He and the other two seemed puzzled by our clothing. Doctor Bandever was in his white jacket, a standard for any scientist or anyone known as the Doctor. The three of them, 859 included, seemed more mystified by my loafers.'

"Whutz'whit doze feetz?" Stert, the hairiest, pointed. "Wy dun'yew war'm fur owt herr?" I glanced at Doctor Bandever, who himself shrugged. 'I don't think I need to mention the packet. Wait...I just did. My apologies.' my eardrum buzzed. That damn packet Diary3.0, no matter the dimension it was still pain to remember. I couldn't help but sigh at this, which our new friends noted.'

"Uw ay'dun spazzou'r it." Dern said, lifting his pack off his back. He motioned me forward past 859 and our Zulu friend, and began disassembling his pack. He laid out various things, a few plucks of plumage from the 'birds' they hunted, a gnarled orange branch, still wet and live. "Thayt'z fur eetz flaykes." Dern said pointing, continuing his search.'

"Flaykes?" I stammered through the Panel's translator.'

'859 approached and kneeled down, pointing at the bark of the branch "Eetz flaykes'r eetz skinn.' he muttered, with his cave friends grunting in agreement. Dern was still busy unpacking his satchel, producing even more plumage and a soggy brown root.'

"Wile-root?" I asked. A grunt from one of the cavemen affirmed this, and Dern finally revealed a spool of dried stalk and a thin steel wire.'

"Eye'u'll mayke yew ah'pair'ah feetz fur yur'wulk'n." he smiled goofily, seating himself and tossing the spool open. I was awestruck, as were the Doctor and RhadNhe. The deaths of their two friends, SOLSA, or the obelisk hadn't struck them as remotely interesting or even threatening. They simply saw corpses. Even 859 and Rawksy seemed fixed on Dern's cobbling skills. We didn't notice Diary3.0, or knew to notice that the remains of the SOLSA creature, Benn, and Ahrt, had begun to shudder and pulsate.'

'It all happened so fast. I turned back from where we had been, to see Ahrt's body beginning to...change. It was bubbling pus and the skin seemed to be almost melting off in certain places. His face and all the hair on his body had corroded away, revealing taut muscles, but tainted dark greens and yellow; like the SOLSA creature we had slain earlier.'

"Uh guys..." I fumbled back, the Doctor doing the same. 662 gazed over, wide eyed, with 859 casually swigging his hip flask, unimpressed. Across the clearing, Benn's body was blustering and doing the same, with the SOLSA creature's abdomen pulsating. It was gruesome.'

'The Doctor was just as horrified. "It's...He's becoming like...like..."

"Like them. He has become SOLSA." 662 gritted. 859 swigged his flask again, glaring at the bubbling bodies.'

'This was terrifying to watch Diary3.0, I can assure you of that. Blarne and Stert heard the ripping of flesh, and gazed across past us. They both immediately hid behind the same carriage as before, dragging Dern back with them while he blindly sewed the new soles. Our caveman, 859 on the other hand, stood his ground with RhadNhe joining at his side. The corpses of the two cavemen pulsated outwards, with the SOLSA creatures stomach bursting, two small clawed appendages protruding outwards.'

"Another SOLSA?" 662 gasped. It was a smaller creature, with the same number of appendages. It had broken out of its dead host's stomach, and was slowly crawly towards us. The Doctor and I stood back behind RhadNhe, as our caveman equivalent quickly lost patience.'

"WURR 'nuthur'SOLSA!" he belted, drawing his hand rifle. In a single blast he liquefied the small monster, a trail of dark blood and putrid intestines behind it. This had an inspiring effect on Blarne and Stert who cheered for 859, as he blew the smoke off the barrel and put his gun back into his leg's holster. It was the moment the small monster gave a shrill shriek, that the other two bodies burst forth.'

'Benn and Ahrt, or what was once them, pulled themselves apart from sheets of skin and hair, left seeping in pools of rich blood. The closest one, formerly Ahrt, rose from the ground slowly, drawing its new limbs outwards. 859 snapped his hand rifle open, reloading a new enormous shell.'

"Luk'owt!" I heard Stert yell, only to see Benn's former corpse, leap at 859 just missing, only to lunge at Rawksy biting her on the calf. She reared back, the SOLSA clutching her across the belly, digging into her with its mandibles. 859 roared angrily, loud enough for even the creature to take notice. He splattered its head apart with a newly loaded round, and paused above the now grounded Rawksy, lying on her side panting.'

'None of us, really seemed to know what to do. The three of us, the Doctor, 662, and myself, all stood behind 859. His face was not visible to us, but his stance said more than words could. He stayed rigid, even as he knelt down beside his prized steed as it gnashed and growled in pain on the jungle floor. The SOLSA bodies started shuddering again, and out of each came two small clawed hands, like the previous creature. They were listless, crawling aimlessly out of their husks around the clearing leaving paths of blood and bile in their wake. RhadNhe and the Doctor were still standing far from the bodies with me, and 859 was crouching over Rawksy, resting his hand on her forehead and comforting her. It was clear that the SOLSA bug was ravaging the horse, her hide around the bites turning from blood red, to bilious yellow.'

"859?...Rod?" the Doctor prodded. He did not notice, and continued patting Rawksy's mane as snorted softly. The SOLSA parasites drew nearer and nearer, the cavemen still hidden in terror behind the closest carriage. Dern was still sewing away at my new shoes.'

'662 began to approach them, when loud rustling grew closer within the jungle, followed by some blips on the Doctor's Panel. Four solid shots bolted from the jungle, splattering what remained of the creeping SOLSA organisms across the already tainted and padded grass. Our Komm-Bots, having trudged through the thickest jungle and down one of the furthest ravines, finally arrived. They assembled in a column before us, at the neural behest of Doctor Bandever.'

"Finally. I wasn't sure how damaged their servos were. Apparently much more than I had thought." he was examining them now, their legs and arms wrapped in twisted vines and caked in mud.'

'The Doctor made a passing glance at 859, still looming over Rawksy's panting body, before he went back to his Komm-Bot inspection. 662 and I stood to the side, unsure of what to do, while Blarne and Stert peered out from behind the overturned carriage. The massive horse kicked and reeled on the ground, as 859 slowly reloaded his hand rifle, cocking it loudly. She stirred, calming as he cooed her slightly with a soft grunt, as he placed the barrel to her head, tapping its top trigger. The shot rang throughout the clearing, and the only remaining sounds, were the deep shaky breaths of 859.'

'The Doctor must have known this was traumatic. He silently walked away with three of his muddy Komm-Bots in tow towards the now inactive tower. I didn't move an inch. Seeing the back of an angry caveman willing to fight dinosaurs, furious over the death of his beloved mount was enough to keep my distance. RhadNhe on the other hand, stood firm for only a moment, then walking towards 859, and kneeling beside the animal's head.'

"A fine companion my friend. She will await you in the afterlife." 662 said firmly. Blarne and Stert had started to walk towards us, with Dern stitching the final touches on his masterpiece. He seemed like the absent minded type, and stayed back continuing his work. A gurgling sound, bubbling from within Rawksy caused 662 to rise and walk backwards. Blarne and Stert froze in their tracks, and 859 himself remained motionless, and his furious heaving breaths had stopped. The horse kicked and squealed, already dead, with a presence within striving to escape. A skin cocoon, with an infected monster about to emerge.'

"Stand away 859!" 662 yelled, attracting even the Doctor's notice, but it was too late. The remains of what was once Rawksy ripped through the striped hide; a mutated horse left in its place attempting to stand. Before it could, and in what seemed like a heartbeat, 859 reloaded and shot 'Rawksy' point blank in the skull, and it keeled over as he himself arose standing over its bubbling corpse. A small scratch emanated from within its stomach, as our caveman reloaded just as fast, blowing its belly open, spewing its lesser appendage onto the jungle floor. It crawled and seeped outward, like the other hand, and slowly withered and died in a cloud of gasses.'

"What is that?" I asked from afar. 662 was backing away from its cloud, and for once 859 moved as well. His rage hadn't affected his better judgment, as he holstered his smoking hand-rifle. Blarne and Stert had moved closer, and gasped at the tattered remains of a horse they knew all too well.'

'Blarne reached up high with a solace hand to pat 859 on the back. "Eez nhat'zo bhad. Zhe wuz'a'gut'wun. Zhe-"

'He was knocked back by 859, who turned his back to Rawksy's bloodied corpse to face him.'

"Whut'd yew'dew thaffur?" Stert eased Blarne back up. Even a shift against 859 would send one of us toppling over, and even if these cavemen were smaller than our Rod, they were still bigger than us.'

"Yee'a wydew e't mi? Whut'd eye du'rung bauss?" Blarne asked wonderingly, clearly still off balance.'

"Wut'uz thaffaur?! Yew'ur chazina bhird'n gut' Ahrt'n Benn'illd!" he slapped the side of Blarne's head downward, causing him to hit the ground face first. He whimpered, with Stert trying to help him up.'

"Wut'd yew'tew dew?! Udder'thin hydin' n'sabbin' o'er'dare?!" 859 bellowed angrily at the two of them, waving his arms wildly. "Yew din't fiyure bhak? Ur'ebben 'elpAhrt'r'Benn? Er'mi!?"

'Blarne stood up on his own, adjusting his already damaged spectacles. "Whut'd yew meen?" Blarne may have been affected by our Cave-Rod's swift slap to the face, but it was also possible that he simply did not understand.'

'859 bubbled furiously. His fists themselves had hardened, his fingers bricks wrapped around cannonball hands. "Eye dyd'eet cuz'yur'a bout'az yuzeful az'a pyl'o bhurned whoolly drah'pinz! Wy'ur yew zo'mhuchava whilee'lyl krabz, thay'dzstill be'live!"

"Whoolly..." 662 turned to me in a confused whisper.'

"Krabz?" I shrugged back. I had been lost on RhadNhe's Zulu dialect before, but this was borderline gibberish. The only thing the Panel translator module could make out were the basic phonetics. Blarne and Stert were backing away from 859 now, as two of his massive fingers aimed at them.'

"Yew'tew...eye'duhno wi eye ebber'eben blhazed owt har wit'yew'ull. Wi'eye ebben leff'Thurn tu'cumowt har whin'ull eye'gut, iz'yew'tew apples."

"Apples? I still don-"

"ZSHU'DAP!" Cave-Rod screamed directly at me, making even the Doctor take notice from across the clearing. I shudder even now at the thought of it Diary3.0. Granted he was a Rodd-iite, but I was just confused, and it was clear that 859 was already upset. Two of his friends had died at the hands of a monster he hadn't accepted, as well as the horse he had boasted about so fondly."

"Eez cuz'yew warr ghet'n'way frhum Shaark bauss." Stert replied softly. This did not help, as once again Rod's massive hands began to clench, and just as he was about to advance his path was crossed by Dern, producing a pair of shoes destined for me.'

"Luk'bauss! Eye'maydum fur yer spay'suh bud'ee! Th'uur ull bhird'n sum flay'n sum...wutz wrung'bauss?"

'859 had stopped boiling, and merely buried his head into his giant hands on the verge of exasperation. "Dern..." he groaned, and remained idle until we heard a noise behind us.'

"Gentlemen. 859, my apologies on your steed. You had mentioned how fond you were of her and for that I am sorry." the Doctor started, with our Cave-Rod waving his hands at the translation.'

"Nhaw eet wuz'ent ehnee'yer fawltz." he said to us all "Yew'guiyz tew." the other cavemen seemed nonchalant, as though it was nothing new, or remotely threatening. They didn't seem fearful of our Cave-Rod Diary3.0, more engrossed by him. They liked him.'

"As you were aware, I began my analysis of the tower structure we observed from the cliff over there." Doctor Bandever said pointing behind him. "As the result of the atmosphere and the properties of the jungle itself, the closest scan I could make, the better."

"What did you find?" I asked. The Doctor produced his Panel from his coat pocket, blipping on the lowest corner and activating its grid. A series of graphs and statistics emerged, which produced gasps from the cavemen, especially Dern.'

"Howzit wurk?!" Dern cried. He gazed between the linear graphs up and down, underneath and over. "Wurz'itz feetz?"

"Feetz?" 662 stammered, looking at the Panel clipped to his shield.'

"Never mind that now." the Doctor said to a glum Dern. "You'll have the ability to learn all about it aboard the Nordius Prime, our ship."

"Sh-yeep? Narhdeeuz Prhyme? Wutz'goin'n har?" 859 flummoxed, his brow scrunching downwards.'

"Please 859, I will elaborate if you would abate for the moment." the Doctor motioned, as our Cave-Rod calmed himself after the translation, and gazed into the tables and graphs. "As I had mentioned I had to get close to that obelisk over there in order to conduct a more comprehensive, or 'thorough' scan." he said quoting as usual. "I found that it is composed of many of the same minerals as the devices of your world's PTEKK 285, and it uses the same Industrial Electron Cell that is produced by PTEKK and used about the Nordius Prime."

"But what it looks like...I've never seen anything like that before." I said gazing at it. It wasn't something we'd see on my world, our earth Diary3.0. The Doctor, seemed clueless as well.'

"I'm not certain Rod, as I too have never seen anything like it before. It's a simple design really, I can't believe I wouldn't have thought of it." he said gazing at it. It had remained idle, and the Industrial Electron Cells themselves were dormant. "What is truly important however, is that the Industrial Electron Cells played a key role in determining the difference of why this is even here." he said pointing to the tower, then tapping for the next page of data. "As you can see here, the mineral composition which is fed into the Electron Cell's database for computer memorized electrical distribution and-"

"Wut?" 859 belted, clicking his own Panel's side. 662's attentive gaze slimmed at the Doctor, as the translator in Zulu was just as confusing. The Doctor looked at me and even I had to shrug.'

"Just as basic as you can Doctor, for our sakes." I said, and he sighed clicking his Panel off. The other cavemen were just as sullen, but the Doctor continued. "Essentially gentlemen, Rodd-iites respectively, I've found the difference which kept us from pursuing SOLSA. The way to follow them into the next dimension.'

'This received a quicker response, as even our new Caveman was yearning for revenge. "Oo'evur thiz SOLSA iz, eye wannum." he said through yellow and blackened teeth. "Eye 'uhnno wut 'eh ded tew Ahrt n' Benn, bh'ut eez myhne, wut'evar eh iz." His hairy friends seemed more than apt as well, clearly pleased with the shiny devices and glowing objects they had seen.'

'RhadNhe nodded as well. "I have come this far, to not go further would question all I have done. Not for a warrior." I could tell that Doctor Bandever was pleased, and overhead we heard the light hum of six Kommissars encircling low, while our larger vehicle was landing nearby. Its gears touched down on the clearing's soft grass, and its main door opened in a hiss.'

"Well, I won't mince words any longer." the Doctor said bluntly, which was a rarity for him. In a single blink, the Komm-Bots under his control filed in two columns back to the larger Kommissar's rear, with the others circling overhead like buzzards. It made me curious for a moment about where buzzards would be on this world, but the Doctor 's voice uncoupled my thoughts.'

"The larger craft you see before you will take us aboard the Nordius Prime, a ship we have in orbit to combat SOLSA." he pointed at the hissing door, closest to the front. "Go through there and have a seat in the cockpit area. I hope you'll find it comfortable, though to be honest I hadn't taken your...well...your height differences into account when I made it." The translation finally went through fully, and the lost faces of the three cavemen listening in to the speaker of 859's Panel finally laughed excitedly, nearly tripping over themselves and each other past the other bodies to reach the door first. They were more transfixed and concerned with our ship than their friends. We all found this rather surprising.'

"What of your dead? Do you not bury or honor them?" RhadNhe asked, bothered by his Cave-brother's lack of interest in Ahrt or Benn's mutated bodies. 859 shook his head in reply.'

"Dey'd eef radder mh'embur'd'az sumffin'mohr. Wut dey mh'ember. Wut eye'dew. Nhat'dis." he said, spitting. "'Zides, eet's wut'dey'd wunt. Ohn mai wurld'a, herr," he said, putting his arms wide, "Yew'ur tha'wurld'a. 'Sept'fur membrin', zhayin'' yer'mohr'iz..." he snorted, "Kraizee." He walked away, swigging at his flask and stopped at the Doctor.'

"Eye'ope wurr ba'kwick, Eye'wunna ce'wut yew ded'tew muh'flax'n'barhley" the Cave-Rod muttered to him, pointing with menacing fingers. Surprisingly, the Doctor brightened.'

"Is that what those were? Incredible! They were gigantic and well cultivated!" he responded. This took 859 off guard, and he tried to mouth a callous response, but only pointed again, firmly, and lumbered slowly to the Kommissar with the others. The Doctor, victorious in diverting conflict, turned back towards the body of the original SOLSA creature, standing close to its body. It's appendages had withered and it remained stiff and unmoved. I noticed then Diary3.0 from a distance, that it bore the tattered remains of what appeared to be a uniform. "Do you think that's important? It looks like their uniform or something." I said to the Doctor. He turned to me from afar and shrugged, mouthing words I couldn't understand, then turned back to the corpse at his feet. 662 approached Doctor Bandever, who stood close to the corpse with a wary expression hidden partially by his twitching mustache.'

"You are certain we can track these creatures, these SOLSA with this...change?" 662 stammered. He was far more interested than the Doctor had anticipated, and that was illustrated by my eardrum ringingly softly, saying: 'He asks too many questions Rod. Please do not coax him into asking about more.' I rubbed at my ear, which 662 oddly enough noticed, and sparked another question which proved devastating later.'

"Doctor...apologies it still sounds strange hearing your translation for your title on my world."

'Doctor Bandever nodded, apprehensively in my eyes. "It's alright RhadNhe. What's on your mind?" he asked, slowly walking across the clearing towards the circling Kommissars and our craft.'

"What was that creature? Was that truly SOLSA, and how it spreads its curse?" 662 asked quite interested.'

'The Doctor shrugged. "This is the first time I've seen a SOLSA creature myself I'm afraid. Rather interesting though the rapid change which develops within the body. Almost using the skin as an incubator and the skeletal system as a template, or a root to grow by."

'662 was brimming with curiosity. "I noticed, over there upon the death of that creature, it...how can I put this...pollinated. I saw vapor, that looked like smoke but with grit and essence. What does it mean Doctor?"

'Doctor Bandever took out his Panel, dragging the edge squared. "You saw this happen? Like a flower would release pollen?"

'RhadNhe nodded. "It was almost like the moment that it truly died, after each of the bodies had died twice and the smaller organism within crawled to get out." the Doctor seemed worried as he heard this, and his expression and actions became slower as RhadNhe went on. "Are we in danger Doctor? I know we have these devices to prevent such organisms and disease, as well as to help us breathe, but how are we to ensur-"

'Stone faced and no longer focused on his panel, the Doctor stared deep at RhadNhe and interrupted. "662, I'm afraid I cannot answer that question, on the grounds that it would endanger our venture further." This took RhadNhe off guard from the pleasant ego he had witnessed moments earlier, and turned to me as the Doctor walked away from him to the door of the vessel.'

"What did I ask incorrectly? Is the device working properly?" he asked me. I didn't know what to tell him, as the Doctor had said the same to me before. I shrugged, and played a coyly as I could, sheepishly following the Doctor inside the craft. This proved a careless mistake on my part in the time to come Diary3.0, as this was the first inclination that 662 had to distrust the Doctor's intentions, and what we ourselves knew regarding SOLSA's technology and our own. As I entered the Kommissar with RhadNhe right behind me, my eardrum rang this message: 'Under no circumstances Rod, are you to reveal what 662 just asked to the others, or ever speak of it again.' I didn't need to react to comply, but I knew then what a mistake it was.'

'The ride back to orbit, and aboard Nordius Prime was uneventful, and quiet for the most part, aside from the heaving grunts from the cavemen. 859 himself was not nervous, or at least couldn't show it in front of us, Dern was immersed in the Panel 859 had handed to him, but Blarne and Stert were overcome with watching their world grow smaller and smaller on a window that wasn't even there. They pawed with their hairy knuckles at the walls of the Kommissar, wondering why they couldn't touch the clouds, or feel space. They had lived even without the concept of windows, but only understood the notion of touch. How strange it must have been, like the Zulus and the cavemen, to be thrown into a completely new realm of thought and being. I had the luxury of fiction on my world Diary3.0, and the Rodd-iites at least had the concept of dreams, and their subtle connection to elsewhere. But without imagination...it's beyond my understanding. Before I knew it, we had been grappled by the large arm in the Docking Bay, which produced stressful yelps and brays among the cavemen.'

"Kway'et!" 859 belted. He clearly was unaffected by any shift in understanding, except anger at SOLSA. Their muffling ceased and the Doctor spoke over the hissing and the clamoring of the doors beneath. After the lights and flashes stopped and the door whirred open, the Doctor shuffled out into the light of the Bay.'

"I'm going to re-program the computer to filter out the necessary information for the jump. You'll find that I have altered your Panel 859, to emit additional oxygen so you should be able to breathe as normally as you would on your world. Blarne, Stert and Dern was it?" he asked the bemused bald caveman, still drooling over the green screen, "I believe there is an additional supply of Panel components that I can use to manufacture you all your own. In the meantime, try to stay close to your friend. 285, would you escort these gentlemen to the Main Deck?" he asked politely.'

"Do you mean the Living Room?" I joked. He didn't seem amused and twitched his mustache before walking away towards the pressure door for the main hallway.'

"Doctor, wait!" 662 called after him, trying to climb out of the cramped, cave-man brimming vessel. Blarne, Stert, Dern and our Cave-Rod were much too small for even the larger Kommissar. I was closest to the door and was able to push an enamored Dern to the side and let 662 out. He fumbled outwards over himself, ungraceful for a warrior, but he arose quickly, following the step path to the door.'

"Doctor Bandever wait! I have more questions to which I must have answers!" he belted, finally catching up when the Doctor stopped and turned.'

"We all seek answers 662, and right now I must focus on those which pertain to us all, now please leave me be!" his voice shook the Bay, enough that even 859 took notice. "Now please! Escort our new guests to the Main Deck, and I will join you all shortly thereafter!"

'I felt awful. In retrospect Diary3.0, RhadNhe was far more ambitious and perceptive than I was. The Doctor probably felt the same way. My eardrum buzzed 'Ensure that your Panel's shield remains active at all times. Please notify me immediately if any of them show changes.' and droned out the minute he strode through the door, leaving RhadNhe blinking in disbelief. The Cave-Rod and his friends were climbing and twisting over themselves to escape from the tight vessel, and 662 approached me vigorously as I had slowly drawn to the door.'

"What could I have done to gain his offense. You know him better than I, and were the first to know of him. Why does he act like this, and this way?" He was mystified, as was I. But the Doctor had instructed me not to reveal the details of what we had encountered on the planet, or anything that would override his ability to calculate what would happen and when.'

"662 I can't-"

"You cannot what 285? I do not understand why you think it necessary to...prevent me from understanding." he began. I could tell he wanted something real, some truth to all of what SOLSA was, which seemed strange I guess. He was a Zulu, and had prided himself about not asking questions, or attempting to understand that which he shouldn't. And yet here he was, nearly cornering me in the Main Bay, his imagination sparked for the first time, and left to burn and broil untended. This was a job for the Doctor, not me. But I saw that the cave-men had finally managed to free themselves from the Kommissar, three of them still standing in awe of it as 859 approached me. It's the largest cargo version PTEKK offered Diary3.0, and it was like watching hairy clowns at a circus.'

"Let's just get them to the Main Deck and the Doctor will explain it when he's all done." the CEO in me shined, finally. RhadNhe heaved, clearly unhappy at this, but I couldn't say anything to him about it. Not because I didn't understand it myself at the time, but I just couldn't lie to myself. I couldn't lie to the Doctor either. The only Rod I could seem to lie to, was myself. I motioned 859 to follow and he and his friends trailed behind me, with 662 blistering in tow through the whirring pressure door.'

'The cave-people in all were mystified by the long hallway, though the bulkheads in our Nordius Prime were much lower, and I turned to 859 ducking under many of them. Unlike before, I wanted to make a good impression on our way to the Doctor's favorite room.'

"Any troubles so far?" I asked looking over my shoulder. I'm fairly certain that 859 took this as an offense to his height issues, and glared at me as we walked.'

"Th'eze 'allza'urz r'nth tha'b'esst'" my Panel crooned at me, trying its best still. The alterations the Doctor had made for the translation system still hadn't taken effect.'

"Oh, I actually meant about your breathing. Doctor Bandever had mentioned something about not being able to breathe aboard the ship."

'This confused the other cavemen, and immediately Dern began to hyperventilate. I stopped as did 662 when he stopped, after a swift slap to the back of the head from 859.'

"N'ok eet ohf!" he bellowed at Dern, turning to me. "Dun gitt'um ryl'd ep!" he snarled as he lumbered past me, docile cave-people in tow. 662 walked past me, and caught up to our Cave-Rod. "The Main Area is this way, come, you will meet my people." I heard him say, and they walked down the corridor into the deep black, through the whirring door in the distance and sealed behind it. I stood in the hallway, super-ceded by RhadNhe and left alone. I had grown adjusted to the travel to space but I was still queasy. As I was about to make way to the bathroom next to the 'Living Room', my eardrum rang.'

'Rod, come to the third door on your left. The port Komm-Bot Bay.' it hummed. I blinked, realizing I still hadn't explored the ship. to my right and left, I saw doorways behind me with large letters that read 'STAIRS TO DOCKING & PROPULSION', followed by two other doors on either side that said 'KOMMISSAR BAY' and finally 'KOMM-BOT BAY'. I approached the port door, and it whirred open, slimming light across a darkness of blocked up crates, presumably containing folded Komm-Bots. I stepped into the bay and allowed the whirring door to close behind me.'

"Was there anyone left in the hallway?" a familiar voice asked through the darkness. Rows of lights above the blocks of pre-packaged Komm-Bots flicked on, and as the last shroud had lifted, I saw Doctor Bandever himself, standing to my left along a stack of Komm-Bot crates.'

"What are you doing in here?" I asked walking towards him. His expression seemed grave, and I knew he wouldn't have asked me to come unless he didn't want the others to know.'

"Before, when RhadNhe had mentioned the SOLSA bug, I didn't answer, well, I mean to say that I didn't elaborate."

"Right." I answered, standing next to him and the crates.'

"Well, it would appear that the SOLSA bug, is transmittable.'

'My expression felt just as grave and the room felt icy all of a sudden. "Transmittable? As in through the Panel's shield?" I said, waving the corner frame around by its keychain.'

"Please 285. The-"

'I stopped him cold in that moment. "Enough of this 285 business. My name is Rod and you know it. We've done all this from the beginning and you know that much about it at least." he nodded, sighing deeply after.'

"My apologies Rod. It's...just with the others and what's been happening I seem to forget. It's unlike me to forget things to be honest." he waffled momentarily, "But in all candor, the shield itself remains active through the power source independent of its holographic or video functions being active."

"Oh...well wait then that means..." I stammered. Doctor Bandever nodded grimly, tense lips hidden under his spindly mustache. The Zulu warriors, 859's friends, all of them, all of them carrying the SOLSA bug on board Nordius Prime.'

"It's of serious concern Rod. The bug, if you'd call it that, is capable of the transformation that we witnessed on the surface." his face stern, as I attempted to grasp the scope of what we were dealing with in the echoing chamber.'

"So what, are you saying that everyone in that main room over there will become like those creatures? They'll becoming like SOLSA?" I didn't feel comfortable even asking.'

'He nodded. "Unfortunately so. This is a development I hadn't anticipated, nor had I account that we were fighting any more than one enemy.'

'This part confused me Diary3.0, as I wouldn't have understood how he'd reach such a conclusion. 662's doubt started to trigger my own. "What do you mean more than one?"

'He produced his Panel, and illustrated for me an up-close diagram of the SOLSA 'bug.' "The creatures we encountered were in fact human, much as 859's friends Ahrt and Benn were once humans as well. You may have noticed the uniform on the carcass of the creature who initially attacked them, and the cellular structure of the first creature, proves the it is not from 859's world. It does not have the same genetic characteristics necessary to survive on the planet. Even with its mutated body, the shield encapsulating the generator we found on the surface probably was one of the few things keeping it alive."

"What do you mean? Do you mean that it was there, or put there to wait for us?" I was started to grow even more tense.'

"I wouldn't say that it was 'put' there for us," he said with his fingers, "But it was put there for something, and that reason I think I managed to explain on the surface before, or at least attempted to." he said rolling his eyes.'

'I remembered now. "You had mentioned that you had found the way to track SOLSA again but didn't really have the chance to tell anyone. I think they were still blown over by our technology." I laughed. Doctor Bandever was not as amused.'

"Say what you want Rod, but just because something is funny doesn't mean it won't have serious ramifications on what we do." he tapped his Panel, revealing a new page and a new diagram, this time of what looked microscopic.'

"What am I looking at?" I said leaning down.'

"You're looking at an altered photon, one which was present during the older periods of earth's design and composition." he said impressed, half boasting.'

"What does it mean?" The Doctor sighed at me asking this, but quickly had a response.'

"Using this root photonic 'element', if you'd call it that, SOLSA can now travel across space, dimension...and now it would appear, time." as soon as he had finished talking, I felt like the bottom of my jaw had hit the floor.'

"What do you mean? How is this possible?" I was nearly speechless, and could barely find the words to describe my inability to understand.'

'He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. "My best guess, and I do mean best, would postulate that these root 'photons' exist in this time, in the same way they exist only partially or minutely in other dimensions. But in this case, the future. But the concentration of their existence in this universe, lends credibility to the idea that if SOLSA can use TransFlash much the same as we can, then they too already have the capacity to manipulate photons. We do it every time we utilize TransFlash, but SOLSA." he said, leaning against the crates. "They found the way to travel through time, traveling across the photon almost, or using it as the guiding force or the anchor itself. I should have known that using Photons as a method of travel would have consequences, but I hadn't thought about the effects on time." he placed his heads in his hands, "It's becoming almost too much to think about Rod, though I am doing my best."

'I could tell he was, but I still couldn't understand. "But what does this have to do with how SOLSA is created? What goes wrong that allows them to be spawned anyway?" I felt almost close to shaking some sense into him when he hadn't moved, only to have him place his hands at his side and continue.'

"The dilation of time, dimension, and space itself. A rip being torn across a fabric we ourselves permitted by introducing technology. By our own carelessness. By my own appearance in your world and thereby others by our actions, eventual or probable. All those things and more could create a monster like that, in any future by any hand as unguided as ours Rod."

'I was as awestruck at the idea as I am now. It's one thing to accept all that has happened to me thus far Diary3.0, but it's completely different to accept what you've done, only to realize how wrong it all was. Your role in it, or the lack of one. I was...hell still am more guilty than the Doctor was. He was only trying to help and now he was bearing the burden of a future which had not yet even occurred. One he was already desperately trying to correct before he had even initiated it.'

"So what happens now?" I asked. "If the cavemen and the Zulus up there will be SOLSA eventually, even with the shield-"

'He disagreed with a stern mutter, adjusting himself against the crates. "The bug itself is contagious and eventually detrimental, at least based upon the Nordius Prime simulation I had done when I left you all abruptly." he said, motioning to the door with his head, "But it can be contained with the shielding system aboard Nordius Prime, and with the Panel." This is also Diary3.0, the conversation where I first had the idea regarding the perpetuated stasis that would serve me well in the future to come.'

"So are we going to pursue SOLSA? Do we even have the capacity to track them now?"

'The Doctor sighed. "I have the results here, but with this recent development Rod...I just don't know if we can do it. If we're going to lose all this, all of it, whether it be to the SOLSA being created by those exposed to it on the Main Deck, or if we encounter them in space, our prospects of success and survival are null."

'I was about to agree with him, until at that moment, out of the blue, I remembered the day I first met the Doctor. It was cold, chilly, so many years ago, at a job I could barely recall, aside from the sorrow it caused to even try to. How the Doctor gave me something to live for, to be a part of, Rodd-iites, PTEKK, all of it. I'd have never left my earth if it hadn't been for him. My planet would be just as clueless. Then, I could only think about how we could win.'

"Comon' Doctor Bandever, let's go to the bridge. Let's make you some breakfast and-"

'He sighed deeply. "I know what you're trying to do. You're only attempting to make me feel better, and it's not working. I caused this Rod and I don't know how to fix it."

'I stared at him, and his slunk self arched against the Komm-Bot crates. I couldn't think of what to say in response, other than one word. "Try..." I whispered, amazed by its utterance just like the Doctor.'

"What?"

"Try. Just... try." I said to him. Something inside me had compelled me to say it Diary3.0, and I couldn't put my finger on why. Out of anything I could think of, anything at all. Who'd have thought the most basic of words would have such a profound effect. Maybe I had struck a chord, or perhaps it was just refreshing for him to know someone besides him was grasping to understand, and wasn't interested in placing blame on anyone for not succeeding. Either way, he grinned wide, almost as excitedly as that day in the city where I first met him.'

"Let's go to the Main Deck. The results are already in the computer, and it will only take a moment to get underway." he said smiling. I couldn't help but do the same. He walked out of the whirring door first past me and up the hallway to his favorite room. As he had, the rows of lights themselves began to dim, and as the last set flickered, I was already in the hallway with the Bay door closing in my wake.'

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Home > Metro - cleveland.com > Crime

Man arrested, charged in caretaker's attempted slaying, attempts suicide

Published: Tuesday, October 8, 2013, 9:46 AM

Updated: Tuesday, October 8, 2013, 11:34 AM

By: Greg Stalt, Plain Dealer reporter

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Police arrested a man early Tuesday morning after receiving a disturbing call from his caretaker who according to initial reports attempted to kill her, then himself.

Rodney Allen Patternik, 53, was arrested just after 3 AM following a block to block manhunt, when another 911 call reported a man in the region of the original call describing according to police 'a man drenched from head to toe in blood screaming in the street.' Early reports from Patternik's dilapidated home located on the 2500 block of East 86th street located off Woodland Ave indicate his caretaker, Deborah Whitman 34, was attacked with a kitchen knife by Patternik after 12 AM, and remained unconscious until over an hour later where she found herself alone in the kitchen where it occurred and called police.

Police indicated on the scene that Whitman was not sexually assaulted, and the lacerations she suffered were described by paramedics as 'not life threatening.' According to her statement to police, Whitman, Patternik's caretaker, awoke in the middle of the night after hearing someone walking through the hallway of Patternik's home where she stays. She says that she walked through the doorway to the nearby kitchen to see Patternik staring out of the window. When she said his name, he turned and lunged at her with a kitchen knife. Whitman raised concerns with police that Patternik may be a danger to himself, and 'had stabbed himself repeatedly after attacking her', according to her statement to police. Investigators did not find a weapon at either scene.

Patternik was found wandering in the middle of the street according to responding officers near the location of the second call in the 2500 block of East 93rd street. Witnesses say that nobody actually saw him walk into the neighborhood, and had according to one witness's testimony 'Just was there in a blink.' He was found by officers who described him as 'covered in head to toe in blood', and was screaming repeatedly 'I'm free! I did it!' Police arrested him and after being asked if he understood his rights, he reportedly replied 'It's better this way.' He was treated for extensive self-inflicted lacerations at Huron Hospital, and was remanded to the custody of the Ohio Department of Mental Health. He will be placed in specialized care until it is deemed if he is mentally capable of standing trial.

According to police and Whitman, Patternik suffers from a rare temporal lobe condition, complicated by bouts of mania and bi-polar schizophrenia. According to Whitman and a spokesman from Luther Medical Services, Whitman's employer, Patternik's array of conditions 'requires him to have constant home care even though he's on medication.' He was placed at Cleveland Clinic Beachwood for injuries sustained and observation, where he will remain under guarded care until his arraignment scheduled for Thursday morning. Deborah Whitman was treated at Huron Hospital and released at 4:45 AM Tuesday.

Related topics: cleveland police, rodney allen patternik, assault, luther medical services, schizophrenia, mania, temporal lobe

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27.

Transcript of Interview

Cleveland Police Department

9333 Kinsman Road, Cleveland, OH 44104-5326

Name: Detective Frank Glyner, CPD B#1211

Interviewee: Rodney Allen Patternik

D/T/P: 10/9/13, 10:46 AM, Cleveland Clinic Beachwood

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Det.FG: This is Detective Frank Glyner CPD Badge Number 1211. This is a recording of the interview of Rodney Allen Patternik age 53, residing at 2698 East 86th Street in Cleveland Ohio. Mr. Patternik for the purposes of this recording I will read you your Miranda Rights again. You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say or do can and will be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you can't afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?

RP:(inaudible)...It doesn't matter.

Det.FG: Let it show that Mr. Patternik has waived his rights to an attorney. Mr. Patternik could you please state your name for the tape and record at this time.

RP: Rodney Allen Patternik

Det.FG: Thank you, should I call you Rod, Rodney?

RP: ...Rod is fine.

Det.FG: For the purposes of this recording can you please state your home address and how long you have lived at the address in question.

RP: 2698 East 86th Street, Cleaveland Ohio. I've lived there for about twenty years.

Det.FG: Did you live alone? Was it your house originally?

RP: No...no it was my aunt's.

Det.FG: Where is your aunt today?

RP: She died about 6 years ago.

Det.FG: You voluntarily asked for treatment...(inaudible, shuffling) from the...Luther Medical Services around the same time correct?

RP: Yes.

Det.FG: Are you currently employed Rod?

RP: No.

Det.FG: Rod tell me about the night before last, what were you doing before you went to sleep?...(inaudible) Do you remember sleeping Rod?

RP: I remember being asleep before...I...I had woken up, in the middle of the night. I...(door opening inaudible) you...?

Det.FG: Sir who are you?

EC: Oh I'm sorry...(inaudible, shuffling) I'm Dr. Edward Clements, Department of Human Services.

Det.FG: Public Defendant?

EC: No, no I'm a psychiatrist.

Det.FG: His psychiatrist?

EC: No, Mr. Patternik's psychiatrist was...(inaudible, shuffling) Dr. Jean Devaroux, who is currently on administrative leave following the outcome of a separate case. Mr. Patternik had not been seeing a psychiatrist in his absence, and I've been sent by DHS to evaluate his competency to stand trial.

Det.FG: I'm in the middle of conducting an interview, would you mind wai-

RP: No! Stay here, keep him in the room. He needs to hear this.

EC: Um...

Det.FG: (inaudible)...Would you mind staying in the room Dr. Clements?

EC: If it helps, I'll just...sit...here, I guess.

Det.FG: More comfortable Mr Patternik? (inaudible) Good? Now you remember falling asleep the night before last, and awoke in the early morning around when exactly?

RP: It must have been...maybe 12:00 in the morning. Midnight.

Det.FG: Do you recall walking from your bedroom located on the second floor of your domicile to the kitchen on the first floor around 12:00 AM that morning?

RP: Walking?...No...I woke up but...I didn't walk anywhere.

Det.FG: Mr. Patternik do you know a Mrs. Deborah Whitman?

RP: Yes...she's my caretaker.

Det.FG: And she lives in the house with you?

RP: Yes she lives in another room. She's paid to.

Det.FG: She mentioned that her husband had died three years ago. When did she take up residency at

your home to care for you?

RP: About two years ago.

Det.FG: You didn't need in home care up until that point, what changed Rod?

RP: I had...I had what Dr. Devaroux called a breakdown. It was from a dream I had.

Det.FG: Dream?

RP: Nothing...just...(inaudible)

Det.FG: Let me decide if it's nothing Rod.

RP: Just a dream I had...the reason I needed treatment and care.

Det.FG: Were you having any similar dreams like it recently?

RP: No...no the medication helped. I stopped dreaming entirely.

Det.FG: So you weren't dreaming the other night? The night this all happened?

RP: I don't...I didn't think it was a dream...it could have been...

Det.FG: Mrs. Whitman claims around the same time you were awake that night that you attacked her in the kitchen of your house with a knife. Do you remember that Mr. Patternik?

RP: No no I didn't attack her, no...I mean...did I?

Det.FG: Mr. Patternik, Mrs. Whitman was admitted to the same hospital as you. Your yourself were covered from head to toe in blood. Awfully crazy dream if you ask me. I ask you again Mr. Patternik, did you attack Deborah Whitman your caretaker?

RP: I don't think...I mean I wasn't...I wasn't trying to attack her...I knew who she was and that she was supposed to be there I just...(inaudible) I just saw something I shouldn't have seen.

EC: What did you see Rod?

Det.FG: Dr. Clements? Right? Please let me conduct this interview.

RP: No...no he needs to know. He was never here before. He needs to hear this.

I mean....(inaudible) I mean that I've seen him before, just...never here.

EC: Me?

Det.FG: Please Dr. Clements.

EC: What do you mean you've seen me before, just not here?

Det.FG: Doctor, please allow me to conduct this interview. Mr. Patternik, please focus on my questions.

RP: I saw you before. But not here. Not in this room.

EC: Where have you seen me before? I only began working for DHS about a month ago.

RP: Not...Not DHS, no. This was different, it was-

Det.FG: Mr. Patternik, please. Dr. Clements please let me conduct my investigation.

EC: I'm...I'm sorry, Detective, Rod, please just answer his questions.

RP: (inaudible) It doesn't matter.

Det.FG: Thank you Doctor. Rod, you say you don't remember stabbing your caretaker Mrs. Whitman. What do you remember after waking up?

RP: It...it doesn't matter.

Det.FG: It matters to me Mr. Patternik, and to Mrs. Whitman and her family. Mrs. Whitman, the woman you cut, wanted the best for you, even if you don't remember. In my interview with her she wanted to make sure you were treated fairly and did not feel frightened or scared. Do you understand then that it does matter to some people even if you don't agree with them or want to know them?

RP:(inaudible)

Det.FG: Answer the question Mr. Patternik, do you understand?

RP: Yes...

Det.FG: Thank you. Now, what do you remember after waking up?

RP: Well...first of all I don't remember waking up, even if I did.

Det.FG: (inaudible) You said that you did in fact wake up just moments ago Mr. Patternik.

RP: I did...I mean...(inaudible)

Det.FG: We have all day Mr. Patternik, you're not in the position to go anywhere. Now answer the question.

RP: I woke up...but I wasn't in my home...

Det.FG: Where were you?

RP: Somewhere I've been before...A classroom...with a podium in the center of a curved chalkboard.

Det.FG: Classroom? (inaudible, shuffling) Says here that you haven't been in a school since you dropped out of John Marshall High as a teenager. Says that your mother-

RP: Passed...She passed away.

Det.FG: (inaudible, shuffling) Says here she committed suicide when you were around 13, is that right?

RP: (inaudible) Yes.

Det.FG: According to state records...Margaret Edna Patternik, death in 1973. Says your father was a green beret, war hero died in combat. Know him well?

RP: No.

Det.FG: What about after that? You went to live with your aunt right? Says here her name was, Marlene Mann. How long did you live with Miss Mann?

RP: I lived there until around...March...March 1987.

Det.FG: What lead to you leaving?

RP: I moved...to New York City.

Det.FG: The city? What compelled you to do that? Work? A woman?

RP: No, no...it was...it was a feeling.

Det.FG: A feeling? (inaudible) So on a whim one day you just up and decide 'I'm going to New York City?'

RP: It was more than that. It just seemed...(inaudible) I don't know, familiar I guess.

Det.FG: Familiar? Had you been to New York City before this?

RP: No, no I hadn't.

Det.FG: And you just decided one day to just go.

RP: (inaudible) Why does anyone go anywhere if not the drive to do it?

Det.FG: What are you a philosopher now Patternik?

RP: Just my opinion officer.

Det.FG: Well Patternik, opinions are like assholes. They're all shit unless they wipe clean.

RP: What...What are you saying?

Det.FG: Am I going to find any crimes in New York City, maybe something connected with you Rod?

Another assault with a knife maybe? A murder? Rape? Maybe some drugs? Do you take drugs Rod?

RP: No I don't take drugs.

Det.FG: You drink?

RP: Alcohol?

Det.FG: No, water. Yes Patternik do you drink alcohol?

RP: No I don't drink.

Det.FG: Did you go to New York to hide from another crime here? Did you go to New York on the basis of knowing someone there? (inaudible, background) If you've done something it's better to tell me now or I'll find out.

RP: No...No I didn't do anything in New York.

Det.FG: Why were you there?

RP: I got...a job.

Det.FG: So you were doing something in New York.

EC: He means he wasn't doing anything illegal.

Det.FG: I'm doing this interview, understand? (inaudible) Alright Rod you got a job. Where was it?

RP: McDonald's on 42nd street.

Det.FG: Ambitious I see, future corporate CEO.

EC: Alright I think that's eno-

Det.FG: Dr. Clements this is my investigation, you are not his attorney, you aren't even his actual shrink. You're a no-show, a pinch hitter. Now keep your trap shut, let me do my job and I'll let you do yours when I'm done. (inaudible) Why'd you go to New York to work at a McDonald's Rod? Were you trying out for Broadway or something?

RP: No...I went there because it was familiar.

Det.FG: You said that, what made it familiar? If you only felt like taking a...a pilgrimage to New York if you want to call it that, why didn't you just take a bus and come back? Why did you stay?

RP: I was waiting...

Det.FG: Waiting for what?

RP: I...I don't know.

Det.FG: Alright, how long did you work there? At McDonald's on 42nd.

RP: Three years, about.

Det.FG: And when was this?

RP: 19...87, through 1989.

Det.FG: Did you quit your job?

RP: No...no I was fired.

Det.FG: Why were you fired?

RP: (inaudible)

Det.FG: Mr. Patternik, I will go straight out this door to the nurse's desk and call every precinct in New York if you don't stop jerking me around.

RP: I...I burned my hand.

Det.FG: Which hand? (inaudible) Ok so your left hand. What happened to it exactly?

RP: (inaudible) I reached into the oil vat.

Det.FG: You reached into the oil vat. Why would you do that? You sure you don't take drugs Patternik?

RP: No I don't take drugs. It...(inaudible) It felt like I had done it before. Like I was supposed to do it.

Det.FG: What do you mean supposed to? Who told you that you were supposed to do that?

RP: Nobody...I mean...nobody told me to put my hand into it I just...

Det.FG: Just what?

RP: Just...remember doing it before. Like I had done it before and it changed something. That I was somewhere else, or I'd be somewhere else after I did it.

EC: Somewhere else Rod? Can you elaborate on that?

RP: That...that I had been part of something. Somewhere else. Another me, some other time, I don't know...

Det.FG: (inaudible) Dr. Clements.

EC: Please Detective, Rod-

Det.FG: Dr. Clements!

EC: Rod, are you trying to say there's another personality in your head? Someone else telling you what to do?

RP: (inaudible)No not at all. I'm not delusional Mr. Clements no matter wha- (inaudible)

Det.FG: Alright alright take it easy Mr. Patternik, Dr. Clements, wait outsid-

RP: No!...No I want him here. He has to hear this he's never been this far. This is different. This...this is new.

EC: (inaudible)

Det.FG: (inaudible) Alright Rod I'll keep him here if he behaves himself and lets me to finish this interview. But you're going to relax, and start answering my questions, or I'm going to stop being friendly and even listening. Understand?

RP: Yes Detective.

Det.FG: Okay...(inaudible) So why did you come back?

RP: What?

Det.FG: Why did you come back to Cleveland, Rod? If it was so important to go to New York City for you, why did you come back? You held a job for three years, why not just do it again in the city if you felt like you were supposed to be there?

RP: I just...I just felt like I had missed something.

Det.FG: Missed something?

RP: Like...Like I was supposed to be there, or be there for a reason, but I missed it. Or it missed me. Or something went wrong...

Det.FG: What went wrong?...(inaudible) For who Rod? (inaudible, background) Come on if you're not crazy then prove it.

EC: Alright Detective that's enough.

Det.FG: (inaudible)

You're right it's enough. I've got a freak-show chained to a gurney after trying to slash apart the only person who gave enough of a goddamn to stay in his life. Ranting about things that are familiar and feel right. It may be intuition, but it means a world of shit coming out of a mouth like his. He'll be lucky if they don't throw him into Twin Valley and remember that he's there forty years from now if he's still alive.

EC: Detective!

RP: Detective, Doctor, please. I'm...I'm trying my best, it's just that...

Det.FG: Just what?...Just what Rod? Why should I care about putting in a good word for a guy like you? Huh? Why shouldn't I just let the orderlies come in here and wipe the floor with you? I would have thrown the book away on you already but Mrs. Whitman? The woman you tried to peel apart with a dicing knife? Yeah, her. She thinks you're special and unique. Worth trying to save in her opinion for whatever reason she thought of. Hell even when they were stitching up her arms she was using to defend herself after cutting them, she still wanted to make sure you were alright. (inaudible) Help me to understand Patternik, why I should give as much of a fuck as she did about a piece of shit like you?

EC: That's enough!

RP: I'm trying! I'm trying to help you understand. I just...I'm just not smart enough... Not strong enough...

Det.FG: (inaudible) You're damn right you're not strong enou-

EC: That's it Detective! Outside now!

Det.FG: (inaudible) What?

EC: Outside! Right now!

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'He waited until the door slammed itself behind me. I turned to face him, his face dripping in fury.'

"You mind telling me who the fuck you think you are, and why I shouldn't have thrown you out of this ward?" he boiled. His voice echoed down the hospital hallway, with two nurses ducking out behind a wall of the nearby station to see what was going on. You know that remaining calm was easy for me Mary. Until recently. So was being curt.'

"I told you. My name is Dr. Edward Clements and I've been sent by DHS to evaluate Mr. Patternik's competency to stand trial. And I'm supposed to be here officer." I was about to open my briefcase to retrieve my casework when he seethed at me.'

"Well I'm Detective Frank Glyner of the CPD, and I can tell you that he can strand trial all right." He was heavy-set, pacing between me and the door across the hall. His shirt was damp with sweat around its tight collar, and a striped tie desperately choked back his anger. "The guy's a fucking whack-job! Any jury can see that! He's aware of his own actions, he-"

"He is not aware of his own actions!" I shot back. "Even if he's drugged now he doesn't know where he is. He couldn't even remember actually getting up out of the bed when he did according to you, almost like he was in a lucid trance or a dream-state!"

'Glymer looked around, noticing we had gained an audience of nurses, a doctor, and a nearby custodian looking up from his janitor's cart. "Com'ere..." he reached for my sleeve but I pulled away. "Come here!" he said, pulling me off to the side, out of the hallway and into an unoccupied X-Ray room. It was a small office with thick frames of florescent panels and a small desk with two stools. The door behind us, with some of the staff passing by, glancing in through the mesh wired window from the hallwa.'Mrs. Whitman's injuries must have sparked a fire in him that he was trying to douse.'

"We got off on the wrong foot out there Clements. Let's come to an understanding here." he stood pointing through the door. "In that room across the hall, is a maniac. He may not have violent priors, or be ready to kill right now. But I know his type Clements. I've seen him before, many times and with many faces." he sat on a small stool, motioning for me to sit on another, behind me. I did, more comfortably than he appeared to be, and he brandished a small metal flask from his inside coat pocket, taking a swig, and extended the booze branch of peace. I waved him off. You know I don't drink, Mary. But he didn't, and this made him more rigid.'

"You're new around here. Most people avoid the idea of working with these types of guys. Too unstable, like leopards. They look like they're playin' the part and suddenly they just scratch your fuckin' face off." he muttered, ending on another deep swig, and placed the flask back into his inside pocket, out of sight.

"Clements, I'll be as blunt as I can. We've got a woman who did little to nothing next to being a compassionate person who got her arms slashed up. The guy who did it, is in that room. He was coated in blood when they found him." he said pointing to the door. "That same psychopath in that room over there thinks that dipping his hand in oil because it's familiar, and not remembering slashing his nurse, is ok." he flapped his hands on his legs. "Open and shut as far as I'm concerned, so let's just work together and we can get out of here in a timely fashion, ok Doc?"

'I knew he was full of it Mary. How could I not? Even you know better of me to sit and pretend he was right. And I hate it when people call me 'Doc'. "You're wrong."

"What?" he burped, freezing. Challenging him must have been rare, and he gazed back wide-eyed.'

"He's not a psychopath. Psychopaths lack the capacity to understand their actions because they've been conditioned by their psyche to think they're unquestionable. They have an inability to form lasting connections, and lack the capacity for empathy of any kind." I was almost textbook with my definition."You yourself made note of Mrs. Whitman's concern for his own safety, and his lack of a criminal past, correct?"

'His head shook violently, his finger almost in my face. "It doesn't mean he hasn't done something. We just don't have any records of it."

'I kept going. I was on a roll already. "Mr. Patternik simply cannot connect the events themselves, but clearly feels remorse for what he's done, and recollects the event itself at a basic level. His vital signs were stable as he was giving his statement, even as he talked about things that were stressing."

"They have him hopped up on enough thorazine to dope King Kong!"

"That withstanding, he doesn't strike me as a man who is accustomed to instilling fear or inflicting his will with violence."

"Oh 'cause you know him right? You've met him before today?" he belted back.'

"No, but throwing a label at this man without knowing even the basic definitions of what the illness even is, constitutes gross negligence, especially by an unlicensed source. What's indicated by his behavior is more likely brain trauma than mental psychosis."

'Glyner sat up, waving his arms while whistling ghostly. "Well I'm convinced!" he bolted up, hands on his hips. "Wow Doctor, I'm so sorry that I couldn't grasp your understanding of Mr. Maniac in there. Five minutes in an interrogation and this guy's a clairvoyant!" he waved his hands to the ceiling. "Gee, I'm so fuckin' glad we've got Freud in here to tell us how badly Patternik just wants to fuck his own mother. I'm so sorry that I can't grasp your bullshit perspective."

"It's ok, I accept your lack of understanding, and don't hold it against you personally." What great timing Mary, you should have seen his face. It's one of the few joyous moments of this job. But in hindsight, I shouldn't have said it. It took him a moment to process, but his eyes burned at me with the rest of him close to bubbling over.'

"Look...Doc, I know that it's popular and considerate to think of someone like Patternik as a human being, but he's not. He's not like you and I, doesn't have the capacity for being a good person or citizen. He's refuse, waste. Shit we have to pay for but can't flush without someone like you cryin'."

'I couldn't help but laugh inside at him saying this to me as I crossed my arms. Even now I don't regret some of the things I said. "Someone like me? Care to elaborate on that?"

'This sent Glyner into a tizzy. "Your type, just like him, I know all about you." he said pointing at me while pacing. "Spoiled brats who spend their parents money fucking and getting wasted, only to be brainwashed by a bunch of commie crap. You wouldn't know shit! I lost three friends at Yonakuni, one of them took a shell right to the face, so don't spell that red bullshit to me. I suppose you think you're high and mighty for doing what you do huh? Looking out for a degenerate like Patternik instead of the people he hurts? Goddamn commie bastards..." he fizzled off, still pacing.'

"I didn't do that in college and I didn't serve in the war. My politics are my own and they're not colored in any fashion. My relevance in this argument is moot, and I don't see what this has to do with the case at hand." I responded cooly, with Glyner slowing at my sharpness. "As for Mr. Patternik, he doesn't abuse chemicals, drugs or alcohol. Aside from how filthy his home is described in Mrs. Whitman's earlier report to Luther Services, I'd hardly define his behavior as that of a degenerate. Degenerates are psychologically prone to blaming themselves and taking it out on others, and...well other things." I said, glazing over Glyner's flask pocket, enough for him to take notice. It may have been a cheap shot Mary, but it had an impact which gave his steps pause.'

"You don't need to be a jerk about my habits, Doc. We're here to talk about that bloodthirsty asshole remember?" he snarled back. How quickly he had forgotten demonizing me. "My will and my own personal choices towards my own end, have nothing to do with that maniac's."

"Then why call him a degenerate? Are you seeing something in him that you don't like seeing in yourself?" I knew I crossed a line. In the back of my head as I saw him sweating profusely, slicing at me in his own way, with cross glares and angry words, I knew I was being the antagonist here. He may have been a hothead that day, but I had to stand up for Rod, even if I didn't even know him.'

'His glare dug at me now, furious in its depth. "Now listen here you goddamn bleeding heart, we all have our reasons to do what we want. Taking this drink right here? Here?" he belted, pointing angrily to his pocket, "That's not my reason to do what I want, but it's the oil the keeps me going through everyone else's reasons. It keeps me driven and makes my memories and moments live, to remember what I do best! My work! That guy? That fuckin' nut Patternik in there?" flailing his arm at the door, "He's one of the reasons that makes 'degenerate behavior', as you'd see it, so rewarding. It's his reasons and choices that make this one for me better than any other method to cope. That makes me a 'degenerate' in your eyes Doctor? For coping with shit like him, just to keep level with their type? What they do?" he was frothing, and was looking past me out of the cross-checked hallway window.'

'I didn't know why I felt so righteous in belittling him. Maybe it was because he was bullying a complete stranger I had been sent to observe. Still, I felt guilty about it either way Mary. He seemed caged, the leopard he described before, and was in a frenzy at my humanizing Rod Patternik, and I was expecting him to claw through the reinforced glass.'

"Alright Glyner." I said, which made him stop in his tracks facing me. "I didn't mean to make it this way. It's not my place to question your motives."

"You're damn right it's not!" he stammered hoarsely, crossing the room. "I work my ass off every day shit-canning fucktards like that, and sanctimonious assholes like you ride in on your fuckin' white horses to save the day for them!" he said walking towards me, "But not for the people they hurt huh? Not for me." he had stopped, staring out into the hallway again.'

"I still don't think it's a safe assumption to think he's capable of hurting anyone else. I think this was an isolated incident."

'He turned slowly to me, his temples were throbbing. "Isolated?...You think, that this will be the last time he does something like this?"

"Well I don't know. But judging by-"

"That's right! You don't know!" he bellowed, the door shaking next to him. "You don't know what he is! You don't know what he's capable of! And judging?" he snorted, "What kind of judge are you? Judges like you would let him go! On account of it being, an 'isolated incident', right? Only to have him slash up another nurse and 'not remember!'," he said quoting with his fingers, chortling dryly. "Do you think I even give a fuck about this jerkoff? Patternik that fucking psycho? Yeah I know what you think, and I still think he's a psycho, Doctor. I've seen his type many times before, many times! He's a run of the mill slasher, and they'll eat him alive in Youngstown once he does it again! Or today if I can just get him sent there." he trumped.'

"Not a chance, considering the court is relying upon my review of his psychological profile and not yours Detective."

'He loomed over me menacingly, as I sat staring right back. "All I have to do is make a phone call and-"

"And what Detective? Are you threatening a public servant? Threatening an innocent person? With breath reeking of bourbon?" I firmly prodded. His face shriveled pale, and he quickly righted himself, turning from me and running a shaky hand across his balding slicked hair. I was starting to feel even worse at the way I was treating him, but I had no choice. He was belligerent, and was agitating an already unstable patient, even if Mr. Patternik was under restraints. On top of it all, he was drinking. The specter of his past that lingered in his mind was not there that day, even if he thought it was. His own leopard was getting the better of him.'

"Look Detective, I'm just here to evaluate Mr. Patternik, I'm not here to exonerate him or punish him, and neither are you." I said softly. His back still to me, with a palm resting atop his shimmering head. "All I do is ask questions and make observations, like you. Mr. Patternik is already under arrest and in bed with restraints. He's hardly in the condition to be the malevolent force you think him to be." I think I was making headway, as he had place his hand at his side, though still not facing me. "I don't see why we can't just go back into his room, like none of this happened, and ju-"

'Before I could finish my sentence and excise some of Glyner's demons, we both looked after hearing a woman scream "Get some help down here now!" followed by a siren started blaring across the ward's hallway. Shuffling feet and noisy equipment was being wheeled and reeled across the hall in 506; Mr. Patternik's room. "Code-Blue 506!"

'I bolted up, brushed past the detective, and out the X-Ray room door to see blue-scrubbed nurses and Doctor rush into Mr. Patternik's room. I managed to push my way into the room, only to see his body spraying blood from either arm, resting listless and white on the ground. Mr. Patternik had managed to free himself from his restraints, by chewing off both of his hands at the wrist, and crawled off the bed to the door leaving a trail of dark blood. He was panting on the floor with nurses and the doctor on the ground next to him, sticking him with a new IV and doing their best to stop the bleeding. As it pooled everywhere I started walking backwards, the door still ajar opening into the almost deserted hallway. I backed into Glyner, flask in hand, watching the commotion and drowning in indifference.'

"Farewell to bad dreams Patternik. Both yours and mine." he guzzled, almost stumbling back at the sight of it all. Right then and there I lost it. Glyner had this coming. But something stopped inside me, I just ground to a halt. For once in my life, I just couldn't find the words, but not because I wasn't focused. It was something else. My heartbeat deeply in my chest, and quickly echoed above the yelling of the doctor and his orderlies, muffled aside from a piercing whine coming from behind me, where I had turned my back. I slowly turned as Glyner looked on past me, and I saw on the ground Rod Patternik, staring at me. He was whispering something Mary, over and over as the staff were tying off his arms desperately. It was haunting as I looked at him, bloody stumps, like a memory of one of Glyner's war buddies'. I was transfixed, magnetized. But his words, I just couldn't make them out. I couldn't hear anything, just a pulse, a long monotone ringing in my ear. In what felt like a blink, I was sneezing and hyperventilating, on the ground and gasping for air, the chaos over. Mr. Patternik was dead, and Glymer with a goading look, loomed over as a staffer noticed.'

"Welcome to my world Doc." his silhouette said before everything else faded to black. I didn't know what was happening to me, or what happened next.'

'You have to believe me Mary, I've never seen anything like this. I'll do my best to describe it but you have to believe me. Being a psychiatrist and trying to understand people everyday is the hardest thing I've had to do, I wish I could find a way to tell you this, in a way that you'd understand. But this dream was too real. More than a dream.'

'I was on the ground, like before, but not in the ward. It was loud, different. I don't know where I was but I could feel it Mary. It was cold and dank and there were these bizarre chirping noises and everything was blurry at first and just as muffled as it was before when I hit the ground. I was lying on my back, against a metal wall caked with sludge that I felt coat my fingers. I was lying in a puddle of it, and splashed out, trying to right myself and look up. I couldn't move another inch Mary. I don't know what happened. But what I was seeing, I don't know what to describe. I saw bodies, what looked like a bug with a human skeleton, with four legs and 4 arms, gigantic mandibles bleeding green bile, pulsing around me. There were others, primitive Zulu warriors, some dead, pulled to pieces at the bone and flesh, others running past me barefoot with shields towards the chirping, and a ringing. It hadn't started until then, and it was the same as before. Nothing about this seemed familiar, but it felt like I had been there before. Like I had seen it, but just couldn't remember it.'

'I always dismissed Déjà vu in my patients, as it's an indicator of temporal lobe trauma or instability brought on by other chemicals or factors. One of those factors was in my dream, right then and there Mary. It was Mr. Patternik, the old man he was, shaking not far from me, unhurt and very much alive, locked in a terrified trance at something, something to my right. I looked but, I don't know what it was Mary. It was more horrible and frightening than anything I have ever seen or even imagined. It towered over hundreds of, robots, these giant metals ones. And those Zulu warriors, they were running in too. It had tentacles, but, they were misshapen. Like they had arms growing from them and people inside growing outwards. It was grotesque and I couldn't move. I was just lost. Then I felt something close to my left, and I darted quickly. It was Mr. Patternik, standing over me. And he was saying these words, the same words from the hospital:'

"This is what I see every night."

'Over and over he said it. The hum became a din, and he kept repeating it. The noise from the dank chamber grew even louder, and the environment itself became a cluster of chaos. From either side more robots, thousands of them clanking and chirping and shooting, teeming into the room from either side. I said something, I don't know what it was over all the noise, but I felt my lips move. The giant tentacles, thrashed apart anything that came close to it, some robot and others man. Mr. Patternik was still standing over me, listless, saying the same words over and over, and suddenly said:'

"You see now? It doesn't matter."

'A snarl came over my shoulder with a large slippery grip, and I turned right into the mandibles of one of the bugs, it was still half covered in a hairy human skin. I screamed, I can't lie Mary. I have never been more terrified in my entire life. Dream or not, I felt scared. I felt it. I closed my eyes and thrashed and screamed, something I never thought I'd do, writhing about as it felt like I was being pulled apart. I didn't know what else to do. Then a voice broke the darkness.'

"Dr. Clements! Dr. Clements you're having a nightmare! Dr. Clements wake up! Claire!" an older heavyset nurse in blue was holding me down, as my arms and legs were twisting off a small bed. I was back in the ward again Mary, on a hospital bed.'

"I'm...back" I remember saying. It was so real to me I couldn't help it. The woman keeping me from flailing off the bed eased her grip off of me and gave me a leery eye.'

"Back where? You passed out in the hallway doctor, you never left."

"The hallway..." then I remembered. "What about Mr. Patternik? Is he alive?"

'She frowned, her hands on her hips, eyes wincing. Her expression said all I needed to know. Another nurse, Claire ran in to the room.'

"Everything ok Delores? Are you alright doctor?"

'I shook my head, my fingers clutching the bridge of my nose. I could still feel the hum, even if it wasn't there any longer. "I'm sorry I...I think I may have passed out at the sight of..."

'Delores's frown stayed constant as she stood beside the bed "Well it's part of the world we live in unfortunately doctor. Even the strongest people can be afraid of something like blood."

'This caught me off guard and made me laugh. "I'd hardly count myself as strong." I wasn't either. I barely jog, smoke cigarettes constantly, do my casework until 4 am and sleep for two hours for work. But you know that Mary, and I know how it drove you crazy. "I just passed out...I wasn't sure if it even really happened. I'd hardly call that strong."

"Well, it takes a special kind of person then, maybe not strong." she said, finally smiling. "You bumped your head pretty good but otherwise you're ok." Claire had gone back down the hall to the station and Delores had crossed to the other side of the bed. "Here, that Detective left his card." she said handing it to me off the end table next to me. "He didn't seem too concerned. He looked drunk too."

'I couldn't blame him, even now Mary. It takes more than simply witnessing one outburst to measure a person, especially a police detective. Still, I had other things on my mind. "I can't say I blame him. His job seems a lot more difficult than mine."

"Cest'la'vie." Delores said as she walked out through the doorway. "Your briefcase is on the floor to your left by the way." Her creaky sneakers echoed down the corridor, and I sat up trying to get a grip on myself. My suit jacket was still on. I had ironed it this morning and it was right back to being crinkled. I looked at Glyner's card. I was going to throw it away but it struck me as odd that he'd leave his card, after I'd been such a jerk. Truth is I don't think it's because he was being facetious, I think it's because he wanted me to let him know when I'd found a way to overcome what I'd just seen, there in Mr. Patternik's room. Coping, or something new needed to be found, before Glyner and others are mauled by their past, hungry and growing stronger by the day.'

'I smiled as I passed the nurse's station, then leading down the hall's stairwell to the parking garage outside. My Passat had weathered the abuse over the past 10 years, but all my things in the backseat and the trunk didn't seem like they strained the idea it had. My car was stuffed with my things still. I didn't want to unpack in a hotel, but I didn't want to just leave it piled up in there either. It's been two weeks and a day, and I can deal with impasses at work, but not in things that require me to be myself. Even with the radio on, it didn't help. Who the hell am I Mary? I don't even think I know anymore.'

'I drove by the house again on my way to work. The place I stayed at the other night, Holiday Inn or something, they all look the same. They had the same curtains in the room as the downstairs. Color and texture and all. I checked the label four times, I couldn't believe it. The TV was on, blasting something about increased solar radiation or the like but I was just focused on those curtains. How did we become so replaceable? Just slapping a decoration set on a pre-fabricated home is supposed to define your character? Make you any less of an animal or stay your notice for a fraction of time you perceive it to be? I know it sounds like I'm rambling now Mary maybe I am. A lot of things in my life have changed rather quickly, and I'm doing my best to keep up. It's almost like this is a test. Like some kind of skewed experiment they put on graduate students in sci fi horror films with a classic axe-wielding outcome. How the hell did Glyner cope? How did Patternik? I found myself studying the detective's card at a stoplight, desperate for an answer. What would a cop do? Where would a detective start?'

'A white pickup blared its horn behind me, I didn't even know it had turned green. Its frazzle haired driver veered around me. "Go the fuck home yuppie!" he belted and roared off past me. At first I was bubbling over, already in the mood, ready to floor it to catch up with him. But then I realized it. Out of the blue, the answer. I pressed the gas, grabbing Patternik's portfolio off the passenger seat off the top of the coffeemaker and the blender. "Where do you live Mr. Patternik, where do you live?"

'2698 East 86th Street, was a small red house, on a fairly modest street. It was an eyesore to the neighborhood though, with the shudders of the home hanging off their hinges and the yard un-kept. Still, it looked like Patternik's house had fared better than some of the other neighbors in his area. After the bombing and redevelopment of Jerusalem, the development and strife in Africa, the War in Taiwan, and a lot of other things, the majority of business and manufacturing went overseas to new places where the governments and people weren't so adept, or aware, at least in my opinion. Not to say people didn't try, simply that it was like fighting high tide, with a baseball bat. Ebb and flow on every swing, the game a snare of pride. Much of the idea of citizens rebuilding the United States had gone with anything that could help, and places like home began to get worse. Everyone goes to Dubai if they can make some idea work. Everything else seems to suffer and wither. Even our street. The Casturs? It looked like they're foreclosing. It seems like yesterday that we were grilling in their backyard with their kids, now it looks like it's been sitting, a predecessor to Patternik's house, overgrown and eerie as I pulled up. I've been so twisted lately Mary, that when I stopped, I can't even remember our names.'

'I parked along the lawn's wild edge, sullen and leafless oaks hung overhead. The feeling was stagnant and creepy. It wasn't even before lunchtime and I barely saw traffic or any activity. The fall leaves were coming down across the block, and the Patternik home looked like it had been encased in thick patches elder thorns and thickers of varying growth, entrenched and clenching in the mystery. How could I not go in? The street itself was deserted, and I doubted it anyone thought I was there to take anything valuable. Besides, I'm a scientist. Sort of.'

'I found the front door locked, so I crackled and crawled my way through holly and mulberry bushes, finally getting to the back step, a steep decline into a narrow walkway ending at a white wooden door, and a tattered screen. Looking inside a small window in its top, I could see through to a stairway that led to the upstairs of the house. There were two other doors on either side of the hallway leading up, both doors slightly ajar. I opened its screen door, the Glyner I had absorbed pulsing out of me. The handle jiggled but didn't give. Glyner's paper card was too pliable to work, but my expired VISA proved worthy enough.'

'The white door creaked open, a trail of light and dust spearing forward up towards the stairway. I toed up along red blocked tiles, and light-glazed boxes, stacked, with bolded Sharpie labels like "COMPUTER PARTS", and "SOFTWARE." I had forgotten, as usual, to be practical and remember to bring things like a flashlight, and maybe some gloves in case being a psychiatrist didn't warrant breaking and entering. Though it didn't seem like anyone cared if I was in here, or had driven through the front door. Scientists can be police too as far as I'm concerned. Look at Sherlock Holmes, even if he was imaginary.'

'The stairs themselves were painted white, with panels of deeply stained cherry wood leading up to the top. It was a beautifully kept as I made my way up to its living room, just aside from the front door and its hallway with stairs leading upwards joined with a flecked, gnarled banister. The living room had thick brown leather sofas, etched with scars and sitting atop a dusty rug, and more of the cherry wood planked in v'd edges. It was spotless, though that could have been mainly the work of Mrs. Whitman. I looked around, the curtains were drawn close but light peered through them, spider-webbed by the branched outside. The only thing I had brought with me was the portfolio containing his back history from Dr. Devaroux and the case-file. I opened it up, scanning its contents to the crime details, graphic as they were.'

'I traced the path of the doorways to the opposite side of the house. It ended in a kitchen, where it all happened. Scanning the pamphlets and stapled packets further I came across two photographs; the pools of blood where Mrs. Whitman had collapsed unconscious between the window to the side of the yard and a small table with chairs. There were barefoot tracks through her blood, leading around to the right door jam through a bare dining room adjacent to the front hallway. I make a lousy detective Mary, I had missed it since there was carpeting around the door and I hadn't peered through that doorway at first. And that's when it struck me as odd.'

'I flipped through to the police report made by the arriving officers. When he was found, it said 'subject was topless and wearing boxer shorts, no shoes or socks.' I looked down at the carpet. Its flowery pattern, clearly Patternik's aunt's by choice long ago, was plush and clean. Spotless, like the rest of the house. Unless someone had come through and cleaned just this carpet and not the blood stained wood floors, something was amiss. Did he stop and wash his feet? Did he have a pair of shoes lying around? I looked around the front door for shoes, or even a coat rack. Nothing. Wheeling about in the hallway, I looked to see if I had missed bloody bare footprints leading elsewhere. The stairs were clean. As I turned to look at the door, I noticed something else bizarre. If Mr. Patternik had been covered in blood, why was there no blood on the door handle? Or the door at all? I unlocked the deadbolt and opened the front door.'

'The front walkway veered off from under a whittled alcove into the untamed yard. The brick patio had seen better days, but not a drop of blood. There were bushes to either side, and the thorns seeped across every inch. How did he manage to leave the house, and not leave a trace? I was about to go back inside when I saw a car in the distance. Normally, one would think to just go back in, shut the door, and hope they weren't spotted. The overgrowth seemed to cover it enough. But I lingered there, as it slowed closer and closer to my car, parking behind it. It was an older Pontiac, a large dent running down its passenger side, with its engine running behind my idle Passat.'

'I wasn't sure if they could see me Mary, but the passenger door opened, and a woman stepped out. She was older, and tall, wearing glasses, green scrub pants and a grey hooded sweatshirt. She was walking sheepishly towards the house and squinting through the thatches. I could barely make her out, until she began to grow nearer through the brush, and I flapped through the portfolio to its third packet. It was Mrs. Whitman, and she suddenly appeared along a dirt path that I had missed along the fringes of the weeds and thickets right next to the house's left wall.'

'She was startled, gasping. "Who are you?"

'I put my hands up in restraint. "My name is Edward Clements, I'm a social worker attached to Mr. Patternik's case."

'She winced in disagreement. "Rod's doctor is Mr. Devaroux. You must be mistaken."

"No, I'm afraid Mr. Devaroux was removed from his position pending a-"

'Her exasperated sigh interrupted me, "Don't bother it just figures," and she walked up the patio to the doorway, stopping where I stood. "Do you mind? I'm here to get the last of my things. I apologized as best I could, stepping aside for her to pass into the house. She breathed heavily, and I watched as she saw the pathway to the kitchen and sighed deeply. She seemed like she was tilting and I ran inside quickly enough to keep her from fainting. She almost collapsed in my arms, but righted herself off my elbows.'

"I'm alright." she sniffled, and straightened out. I felt for her right then Mary. I had passed out from seeing someone else's blood who I didn't even know. At least I still think I had. Mrs. Whitman had seen Mr. Patternik every day for years, caring for him when nobody else did or felt it a worthy enough cause. And when he cut her, it cut many different things he must not have understood. Or at least been perceptible of.'

"I can't believe they didn't even mop it up. Christ even I don't want to have clean it too." she said turning away from it.'

'I couldn't speak for the police or forensics. "My guess was they left it as it was for evidence. To present at Mr. Patternik's trial."

'She wiped her nose, "Well I hope they can find someone who can give him the help he needs." she sniffled, "He wasn't responsible for himself. I'll speak on his behalf. He wasn't himself that night, he..." she trailed off, looking at the rest of the house breathing it in. It must have been incredibly difficult for her, to be in the same house she had lived in for years with this man, only to have him suddenly lash out. For Glyner and others, this would be open and shut, let him rot. I wasn't a detective though, but I wanted to be one, just to know.'

"Well, I'm afraid I have some bad news. Mr. Patternik is dead, he committed suicide earlier this morning.

I've very sorry." This was what made her finally cry, and I felt horrible having to do it.'

"What happened? What did they do to him?" her sobs buried in her hands now, and I did my best to console her with my hand on her shoulder.'

"He got through his restraints somehow and chewed off his hands. He bled to death Mrs. Whitman, it was too much." I was remembering it now, flashes of Rod staring at me. "There was nothing they could do, they tried everything."

'She sniffed again, wiping tears. "No they didn't." She crossed her arms and walked away from me, up the stairs. She clutched the banister and the wall, grappling with each step.'

"Do you want help with anything? Do you want me to-"

"To do what?" her voice echoed, hoarsely. "What can you do now?" she had her back to me, pausing, hopeful. Turning her head angrily she said "Is there anything you can do? Other than can't?" She bit her upper lip and continued up the stairs and out of sight.'

'I still couldn't understand why Mrs. Whitman cared so deeply for Rod Patternik. It was beyond me. She had been married, and has a family of her own. Why did she bother to begin with? I stood in the hallway, peering around the remnants of the home. The downstairs was clustered with things, but aside from the sofas and a dinette in the kitchen, the house seemed barren. I heard some rumbling in the upstairs room, down the hall from the top of the stairs.'

"Mrs. Whitman?"

'No response.'

"Mrs. Whitman are you alright?"

"Yes I'm alright! I just dropped something." I didn't know whether to go upstairs to help or wait for her to come back down. I didn't know what it was though Mary. I hadn't gone upstairs yet, but it felt like I was missing something important. The knife.'

'I went back across the hall, stepping gingerly over the blood stained prints to the kitchen. There had to be something here, something I had missed before. I looked about the cabinets, and the clattered as I ran my fingers through and opening all of them. There wasn't a knife holder on the flecked gold countertop veneer, and there weren't any dishes in the sink. Where was this knife if they couldn't find it here? There weren't tracks leading out, or to the sink. I wheeled again, my eyes darting out the window to the left side of the yard, over sleeping rose bushes and forgotten neighborhood. There was a stain on the window, and as I looked closer I realized what it was.'

"A thumbprint?" I boggled. There was what looked like a bloody thumbprint on the window. It must have been Mr. Patternik's, but what was he looking at? What did he see that he had to tell me? I took one foot backward, the floor creaking beneath for me to notice. There were droplets of dried blood I had accidentally stepped in, dabbed now on the toe of my shoe.'

"Just perfect." I took out a Kleenex of my suit pocket, lifting my heel and wiping it off. I would have thought Glyner would have noticed something like that. The droplets pattered off into the footprints to the front door, but it seemed like Rod Patternik stood here, watching, pressing his thumb out the window. I peeled apart the portfolio again, looking to see if there was a mention of the windows. There wasn't any. Or any mention of the footsteps stopping at the door. Or any mention of finding the knife. In fact as I went through further, I found that Luther Services under its report listed that all the knives in the house had been accounted for and removed. The police should have known this, or made an independent record. Any potentially harmful object was to be removed from the premises based upon his profile from Dr. Devaroux. So how did he get the knife? Where did he get a knife for that matter?'

'Dr. Devaroux's analysis, though riddled with typos and grammatical potholes, suggested homebound and introverted behavior from his home visits. He and Mrs. Whitman were the only guests, and I didn't see any neighbors who'd even be aware someone lived here. Or would even venture to find out. He didn't even have a TV. What the hell did he do with his time?'

'Now Mary, I want to tell you something that's vital to this whole thing. It's very important and I only ask that you believe me. Whatever happens to me, I just want you to know that I'm telling the truth. You're the only one who even knows me, even if we're separated. It's what you want, that's fine. But this goes beyond me, and I sound stressed I know, but it's because I've found something. Something I couldn't understand even now as I write this to you. But you know me. You know how I am. This is the type of thing I was born for. Learning and understanding, simply for the drive, the rush of it. Just don't judge me for what I'm about to say, no matter how bizarre or irrational it sounds.'

'I felt something behind me. Not looming over my shoulder, but behind where I was standing. In the living room. As I turned around I saw something, I couldn't have seen. Shouldn't have. Rod Patternik. Unhurt, and very much alive. The light even cast a shadow over him as he walked towards me, and I froze, unable to move.

'What exactly does a psychiatrist do, in the event of a self-hallucination Mary? For twice in one day, once in a lifetime it seemed, I had been at a loss to describe not just a loss of function, but a lapse of thought. I was scared. For the first time ever I felt scared. Maybe I always was and just didn't know it. Before I could wrap much though around it, Mr. Patternik had stopped his advance, now standing in the shadow of the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, sighing.'

"Hello Mr. Clements. I suppose I should say how wonderful it is to see you. Even if it's the 344th time I have. Or maybe 345?" he mumbled, looking at his wrist. He was alive, or looked it, in the same surgical gown I had seen him wearing before he died. But it was untouched by blood, and I noticed something that was different; he was covered from head to toe in available area with tally marks. Over and over lines crossed with a slash appeared over every visible surface. He dotted each as he was recounting now, to ensure he was on track.'

"What the hell is this? What's going on?" I was shaking, still scared Mary. This shouldn't be happening, and I must have been injured, or hurt, or had been imbalanced in some way. I'm not sure if it's the divorce, or seeing Patternik die, or living in my car, or hitting my head or what. All I knew, was that standing before me was the living and breathing Rod Patternik.'

"Mr. Clements?" I heard with Patternik's eyes following upward. It was Mrs. Whitman, her footsteps closing in on the staircase from above. "Are you alright?"

"Don't bother saying that you see me. You've done that at least 240 times now. She can't see me, only you can Mr. Clements." Patternik's manifestation crooned, quickly recounting the amount of times listed on his other arm. This hallucination was too real, and he didn't have the tally marks all over him when I saw him briefly in the hospital. Why would my imagination portray him like this, if at all?'

"Mr. Clements?" I heard her descending the stairs. As her steps rung through the wall between the dining room and the staircase, Mr. Patternik shook his head at me. "That would be the 300th time that's happened." he muttered. Mrs. Whitman, turned to the right and came around from the kitchen, bypassing bloodstains. As she did, I saw her walk through Mr. Patternik, as he smiled at this. "290th time, usually you tell her to Look Out! Or something" he giggled. I was flustered and sweating, and Mrs. Whitman could tell.'

"What's the matter Mr. Clements? Are you all right?" she accelerated toward me and looked at my eyes, still locked forward. She turned behind, not seeing Patternik, and turned back to me. "What is it? What did you see?" The moment she asked this I realized that she truly couldn't see him, and that only I was aware of it.'

"Don't...Don't you..." my words throaty as Mrs. Whitman's eyes pored over me, trying to analyze if my pupils were dilated, or if I seemed unhealthily tense. Her training at work without dropping a beat.'

"Don't say it. You wouldn't like her reaction if you didn't like how she reacted before." Mr. Patternik's specter whispered, moving from the living room to the kitchen, where he leaned against the dinette, scanning the two of us. But how could she not see him? He has to be a hallucination.'

"I'm sorry Mrs. Whitman." I righted myself. "I think I may have hit my head kind of hard earlier at the hospital, I think I'm seeing things." I didn't want to look down in case blood was what really sparked it, but I couldn't turn to look at Mr. Patternik either.'

'She gazed at me wide eyed. "Look straight ahead Mr. Clements.' she said, pulling her key-ring, connected to a small flash-light from her pant pocket. As she took my pulse with her right hand, scanning my eyes with her left, Rod was leaning against the table, folding his arms.'

"There's nothing wrong with you Mr. Clements, I can assure you of that. Mrs. Whitman will too in a minute. What you should do is just wait for her to leave and I'll tell you everything." he whispered to me. How could I tell Mrs. Whitman I'm seeing her former patient, the one she cared for and was hurt by?'

"You've only managed to not do it that way once. And that time it unraveled everything for you and everyone and everything else." he said, staring at me. Now I really knew he was inside my mind. How else would he have heard my thoughts? As I write this now, upon even asking that question in my mind at the time provoked laughter in him, snickering loudly. Mrs. Whitman was still testing my health and my perspicacity, unaware of his words or even his presence. My mind snapped back, finally.'

"Mrs. Whitman, how well did you know Mr. Patternik?" I asked, with Rod sighing in the foreground. "You must have had some inkling that he'd be violent or be prone to suicide. What changed? What happened?"

"This has gotta be at least the 300th. Sometime close to that you've asked." Rod shook his head. Mrs. Whitman was more open, putting her keys back into her scrub pant pocket.'

"Well I wouldn't say that I knew. Rod was always writing or drawing, or sometimes he was trying to make things with his spare parts downstairs." she said, gazing at my hand as she continued reading my pulse. I didn't notice that she was probably also seeing the blood tracks beneath my Oxfords. Part of her automatically kept functioning, the nurse in her overcoming her psyche. It was an interesting transformation to witness.'

"I saw those crates. What was he trying to do? I didn't think he had any education or understanding for it." I asked. Surprisingly, Mrs. Whitman glared back.'

"Just because Rod didn't have a college degree or even a high school diploma doesn't mean he wasn't qualified to do things that were important, or special. Those things only help you to get a job, not to understand anything else but what one or two successful people thought." she continued through her slight scowl. "Some of the best minds I've met and have treated lived their lives in isolation, fearing the world but wanting it to survive. They wanted a legacy that mattered, even if it wasn't conventional, just so they'd have one. Not for them, but just so they'd have some part in its creation, even if they wanted no part at all. But that's not the only reason he couldn't find work. He had other problems to overcome too, but who doesn't Mr. Clements? You?"

'I could see in my peripheral vision that Rod was smirking at me. He had every right to be proud, he had a devoted nurse. "I didn't mean to make offense, I just...I just don't understand why you'd be so interested in treating him if you knew he was dangerous?"

'She folded her arms and leaned to her right. "Why do people race cars?"

'I was confused, admittedly. "What?"

"Why do people race cars?" she asked again, blinking. I could hear Rod starting to giggle in the background. "I love her, I really do." he quipped before I responded.'

"Enjoyment?" I was lost, raising my hands in defeat.'

"What else?" she prodded, still fixed on me for my answer.'

"Well...I guess because they want to go fast and be famous an-"

"No Mr. Clements. That's not why people race cars. That's not why people do anything they truly feel they must do."

'I was starting to feel even more boggled, with Rod's snickering. "Well, why do you do it then? Why do they do it? Is it the same reason?"

"Yes, it is Mr. Clements. They do it because they can." she blunted, with Rod applauding and laughing at our performance art. "Racing cars are dangerous. Many things are. But people are free because they are, and it won't be otherwise unless they choose it themselves. They can do anything they want in life, right or wrong. Anyone can with the right drive, and the right understanding. That understanding is that you can, simply because you can. Anyone can drive fast Mr. Clements, anyone can take a life, anyone can rob another, anyone can do whatever it is they want. You can't blame people for their choices, only they can. You can only pick up the pieces to see where they went wrong in your own eyes, and try your best to learn from them." she was starting to grow upset again, but continued.'

"Rod may have killed himself today, but that was his choice, and I can't blame him for that. It was his life, and his choices. They're things I just can't understand, even though I wanted to." she sniffed, her hand running to her eyes. I dug into my coat pocket and leant her a Kleenex.'

"That was probably the 5th time? I'm gonna say 5th on that one for the Kleenex." Rod crooned. I wanted to know more.'

"Where did he get a knife? Where could he have gotten one?" Rod stood in the background, counting the tally marks on his arm. "At least the 250th time, you're getting better!" he giggled, and finally ended with a deep sigh looking downwards.'

'Mrs. Whitman shook her head, still leaning and scowling. "I would have known if he had gotten, or even had one. I do his cleaning and notice where he puts all his things." she affirmed.'

"Not everything Deb, clearly not everything..." Rod muttered. I wanted to know more about where he could have hidden it, but I was taken by his reaction to Mrs. Whitman. He looked away from her when he noticed how defensive she became at the subject of him. I got the impression just by looking at him that he was ashamed of what he had done. Not just hurt her physically, but emotionally by his own death. All she had done, all she tried, gone because he could. I tried my best to ignore him, it, whatever it was Mary. I had more questions, the Glyner in me shining.'

"What about this window? You said he was staring out of it before he attacked you right?" I asked a question Rod didn't like, as he got up from the dinette and walked slowly away from us, back to the living room's sofas.'

"I remember it..." Mrs. Whitman began, "because it was so troubling to me." she looked past me, out into the thick yard. "Rod never mowed it, he always said he just wanted things to go about as though he'd never been here. I always told him that he should strive to see more than just through these windows. To go into the world to see how real it was, how he could make it better if he tried." She stopped. Her gaze must have fallen upon the thumbprint, but she didn't waiver long. "He'd look out this window, always saying to me that someday there'd be something out there that he'd have to see for himself. Something that would involve him. I'm not sure what he meant or what he was talking about. Now I guess nobody will." she ended, flapping her arms at her sides.'

"You happy now Mr. Clements? You've had a high average for this round, you've asked about the window every time though. Except one, but you got scared and ran when you saw her son's car pull up outside." Rod said with his back to me. How did, it, know that her son had driven? I was still trying to remain focused on Mrs. Whitman.'

"Was there anything else? By the way, your heart rate is a little bit high. Try not to get stressed or relaxed, and go get some sleep. You look like you need it." she said, patting my arm. "My things are on the stairs, I'll just make my way out and you can lock up when you're done here."

"I did have one more question actually." I said, with Rod's back in the foreground, him frozen in uncertainty. "I don't mean to ask, but did you remember anything else after you collapsed?"

'She paused mid-step before turning the corner to the stairs, her back to me. Rod meanwhile had turned, and from the side of my vision his expression was cold. "What do you mean Mr. Clements?" she turned, with Rod staring me down.'

"This is the 8th time. You're more aware than I thought." he boasted.'

"I ask because...well I couldn't help but notice that the footsteps stop." I said, as she and I both realized she was walking over them, having completely forgotten.'

"Wow...I just didn't even realize I was walking over this." she muttered, staring deeply at the grain now. She was still taught and didn't look woozy but this didn't please Mr. Patternik.'

"Tell her it's ok Clements, before she passes out again. Say your piece about the knife and get out." he said firmly. That's when I knew he was something else Mary, something not capable of reading me. I wasn't going to ask about the knife.'

"Did you notice that there are no footprints on the carpet? Or blood marks on the door? I ask because it doesn't seem like he would have taken the time to put on shoes or go out the back door. Either one of those things would have left their mark." This, caught both Patternik and Mrs. Whitman off guard. She followed the tracks to the edge of the dining room, where they stopped. Even Rod was amazed.'

"First time for everything." he said, taking a marker out nowhere and dotting a new slash on his arm.

"Probably a fluctuation as the Doctor would call it if anything." I didn't know what he meant at the time Mary, or who the Doctor was, but Mrs. Whitman was less cryptic.'

"He never kept his shoes down here." she said looking at the trail of her own blood, firm in form this time, and just as curious as I was. "He never even wore shoes actually, he just walked around barefoot. Around the house." she gazed about the empty dining room, ending finally at me.'

"He never went out? Not even once in a while?"

'Rod shook his head at this, looking at his right arm. "105th time at least." he said overlooking his shoulder for missing marks, while Mrs. Whitman shook her head in denial.'

"No he never went out. Not once. I took care of his shopping and everything else for him, and I was more than happy to do it." She deserved an award if she was faking her sincerity.'

"But you came to live here correct? And he never went out during that period?"

"No never. I'm sorry Mr. Clements I don't know what you're getting at." Mrs. Whitman was trying her best but I could see that she was grasping at straws. Mr. Patternik was less than helpful.'

"200th time, you're losing your steam Clements." Rod belted, and he paced back to the living room nearly out of sight. Just as he did, there was a knock at the front door. Mrs. Whitman I and both turned to see a younger man standing in the doorway.'

"Knock knoc-...who's this?" the younger, taller man said. The half of his body that had entered through the front door was covered in a white t-shirt and jeans. Mrs. Whitman seemed alarmed by the knock at first, but comforted by the man's presence. I walked closer towards the doorway, stepping over the blood trails until I was next to the banister in the main hallway.'

"Mr. Clements, my son Roger. Roger, this is Mr. Clements from DHS.' she introduced him. He nodded his head, smiling briefly then turning to his mother.'

"Did you get everything you needed? I pulled the car closer to the front near the walkway." he said, with his mother sniffling still.'

"Yeah, wait for me outside, I'll just be a minute." she said, with Roger nodding, and slowly closing the door, starting at me until it shut. "He's just really scared after what happened to me. He's awfully protective, always was." she whimpered softly, ending on another sniffle, and turned to the upstairs stairway where a large cardboard box sat on a middle step.'

"190th time that's happened. You're bringing it back Doc." I heard Patternik croon from the other side of the house. It sounded like he had moved his perch back to the kitchen.'

"Did your son approve of you being here? I mean I know it's your job but living here too?" I asked Mrs. Whitman with a nearby voice adding in after.'

"140! You've still got it!"

'She shook her head, unaware of Rod's critique. "He always had issues with me treating anyone, so did his father. I started living here because I was all alone at home anyway, what with Roger at Columbus and all." she said picking up the box.'

"Let me get that for you." I said with wincing at me.'

"I've got it, it's mine I should carry it anyway. But could you get the door at least?" she asked.'

"103...no 104. 104 Clements!"

'I could barely even notice his jibes at that moment Mary, as I opened the front door for Mrs. Whitman to depart. She passed by, standing in the doorway just in view of the massive thickets and Roger's dented Pontiac outside. I was awestruck, realizing that Patternik had given me another clue earlier, one that I had missed already.'

"Your son drove you? Or is that your car?" I gazed out.'

'She followed my gaze, box in hands. "It's my son's. He drove up from Columbus, took the day off school just to help me move into a new apartment." she said proudly looking back. "He's getting his MBA. It's not medical school but it's what he wants."

"220, you're losing wind Doc!"

'I wasn't flustered by Patternik yet, even if it seemed like he was a step ahead. "I'm sorry, one more question Mrs. Whitman. You knew Patternik, and you knew about his problems that had. Do you think that you could trust him? Even after what's happened?"

'The house was silent, as even Mr. Patternik's apparition wanted to hear this as well. Mrs. Whitman herself was fixed in place, a statue in thought, deep and wide enough that the seconds that passed felt like minutes, accelerated by expectation and suspense.'

"You can't trust anyone. It's just more of a challenge to try." she finally said. "Some people like challenges, others don't. Their loss or gain, but it's their lives in the end." Her words trailed as she stepped out onto the front landing, afternoon overcast setting in. "If you're asking me if I blame Rod for what he did, I don't. But whether he died or not," she stammered hoarsely, "I still feel like I'm the one who let him down, and didn't challenge myself enough." She seemed overcome at first, but breathed deeply, righting herself once more.'

"I hope that helps you Mr. Clements, and I hope you find the answers you're looking for." She nodded from the lower step, and wove through the patches of mixed growth to her son's rumbling car on the street. I watched as set the box on top of the car, opened the door and folded it inside with her. The two of them drove off down the deserted street, and I closed the front door, turning again to the footprints and the bare dining room. Mr. Patternik's image was there now, peering out the same window in the kitchen where the blood prints began.'

"Have a seat Mr. Clements. Or do you prefer Doctor?" he asked, his gaze fixed on the outside through the dusty panes.'

"I prefer Doctor, and to stand. I'm not going to legitimize a hallucination." I said firmly. Ghost or not, this was my mind he was playing with. He chuckled coyly, and elaborated.'

"I'm hardly a hallucination Mr. Clements. I can assure you of that much. I can't control your mind and force you to see things you don't want to. That's what a hallucination does, and that's why it's not what I am."

"So, what are you?" I asked, with him motioning for me to sit at the dinette in the kitchen.'

"Please I don't bite. Even my lashing out at Mrs. Whitman wasn't intentional. I need you to understand

that, you of all people Dr. Clements." He was imploring me to sit, graciously. I still had my doubts.'

"Why now? You lament the things you did to that woman? The only person who gave a damn? Why should I suddenly bow to your wishes? After the only one who did was rewarded with brutality?" I could see that his expression had hardened, and hallucination or not, I felt the same fear I did in the hospital. The same fear I saw when I looked at his withered face.'

"Mrs. Whitman was my friend Dr. Clements. More than a caretaker. More than a Doctor like you. It wasn't her job to care in the ways she did, by feeding me and helping me actually take care of myself. Doctors don't do that, and that's why you can't understand."

"That's not true Rod!"

"Yes it is Doctor Clements! Yes it is!" he bellowed with his hand rapping against the wall, yet the room remained unshaken. He and his voice may have been a manifestation in my mind, but that's all it seemed to be. "All you do is diagnose and walk away. People like you ask about five questions about someone's life, and use it to determine their entire demeanor. As though anyone survived in life off of five decisions, except watered-down gurus people like you claim to be." He was still scowling out the window. "Your sense of understanding, concludes after an hour. It's more therapy for you and your kind than anyone else's. Sitting in a chair across from someone else, consistently in judgment, and meanwhile seeking no desire to understand or grasp the pain or conflict, within anyone, until the money's in your hands! And for what?" he threw up his hands, pacing between the dinette and me. "New office furniture to cover up your lack of training or semblance? A new wardrobe to hypnotize and allure your patients into thinking you're right, based upon the lustrous sheen of threads? How are you, and anyone else like you, more or less of a delusion than what people like me experience? Or less delusional yourselves? Huh? Huh Doctor Clements? All you do, and all the people like you do, is control people into reality. You force them back into it without giving them so much as a manual, or even something that applies to just them without paying homage or subservience to you. And Doctors like you, water down reality because you cannot understand its complexities, and you know it! And if you're in a field which requires complex thinking, and you cannot do it, what good are you? As though anyone needed the opinions of another who excelled in medicine, simply to control someone other than themselves, because they were afraid of real life! One not found on paper of any kind!"

'His pacing continued, and there was silence aside from his imaginary steps. He had made points that I could understand, even as a psychiatrist. But his anger was clearly not aimed at me, or Mrs. Whitman. I could tell, opening my portfolio. "I think your ire lies with Dr. Devaroux, not me Rod." I said softly, pointing at the lines in my records.'

'He scuffled slightly as he walked, turning round and round just out of reach behind the table. "He and you are exactly the same." he muttered, walking back to the window. He leaned on his arm, against the window's trim, gazing out again. I think I could trap him now, whatever he was.'

"You say that Dr. Devaroux and I are the same. Yet I had just met you today. If I were to be so bold Rod, I could assume the same about you."

'This froze him, and he continued to look out. "You could easily assume anything Doctor." I had him now.'

"Perhaps then that's what Dr. Devaroux did Rod? Maybe he made the mistake you had just made; lumping people together into categories for analysis and understanding. I could easily assume anything true, but so could you, or anyone. My assumption of you now, is that you're nothing more than a byproduct of hitting my head at the hospital. Or in classic Dickinson fashion, a piece of undercooked bacon from my breakfast this morning. You've read Charles Dickinson before I'm sure, right Mr. Patternik?"

'He nodded, his forehead resting against his sedate arm, listless now in his window watching.'

"Well, then you can assume, that I think you're just a byproduct of my imagination Mr. Patternik. I think that since you're about as real to me as you think I am to you, that we can be honest with one another."

'This overcame his scanning, as he looked back at me. "What?"

'I paused, attempting to find the words, and finally walked forward and took a seat at the dinette, a surprised Rod and his window to my right. "You think that I myself, am a manifestation much like Dr. Devaroux, in that I have no drive or understanding to know about your problems, correct?"

'He stopped his watching, now ambling back around to the opposing side of the dinette, and sat in the chair across from mine without pulling it out. "I'm listening."

"Well, you're right in thinking that I don't understand reality Rod, I don't." I took our my Reds, removing one from the package and placed the pack on the table. "I figured that the secret to life was to go to school, get a job, get married, and have children until you were blue in the face." I said, which made Rod chuckle, sighing as he looked about. "But that's life for one person. One person is different from others. They have drives of their own, a style of their own, and generally an understanding of their own." I produced a Bic from my pant's pocket, and struck my cigarette lit. "But understanding itself, is something for an individual. Something one person uses for themselves, or for the benefit of others."

"So, what's your point? I already knew everyone was their own person. That's what I was trying to say to you Clements." Rod growled. I was starting to lose him Mary, but I quickly gained the upper hand again.'

'I exhaled deeply, filling the kitchen with new dust. "When a person gains the feeling of success, they want to show it. Illustrate it, Mr. Patternik. They want to share it with people who they think will be helped by it. Some do it as you said with flashy wardrobe, or a new set of office furniture, but not all of us. Not necessarily because they themselves want the credit, or to rule over their patients, but so that someone can potentially gain as much as they did. That's why we try to get you to not think Rod. We try to get you to feel. Because it worked for us and the people, like me, as you put it so delicately. So we think that it will work for others, because we already feel it will. Because that feeling carried us that far and it could carry anyone else further."

"It doesn't Mr. Clements." he remained sitting, but crossed his arms. "People don't think alike as you said, then they certainly don't feel alike either."

'I snapped my cigarette's ash onto the floor. Rod's reaction remained unchanged when I did, clearly not as anal as my imagination would portray him. "Do you know this for sure Rod?"

"I do." he said, not dropping a beat. His brow was as weathered before, and his hair was wildly misshapen and patchy. His blue medical gown, wrinkled and tied in frustrated knots which rose off his back. He was the epitome of my opposite; an old man forgotten, both in time and mission. Scraggly and weird. A tattered reminder of a choice long ago, festered by inaction or fermented in fear. I couldn't tell which at the time Mary, but I really tried. What did I have to lose?'

"Alright Rod, how do you feel differently than I do? Hm? What do you sense differently that I cannot or do not?"

'He laughed at this, slapping the table which produced dull and blunt impacts. The sharpness of his words were the only things that cut deeply, as all his other actions were sedate or dwindled from their human and tangible form. I did my best to steer him, this ghost back to the conversation. "I can see that you still believe you live in a physical state? Even if you're an appiriation."

"Me? Doctor you're as much of an appirition as I am I hate to break it to you."

"Really? Me?" I joked, flicking my cigarette free of ash again. "What makes you think that?"

"Not think Dr. Clements. Remember? I feel it." he said. Mr. Patternik was better than I thought. Clearly he had picked up some tricks from my predecessors, or he had a talent which had gone long unnoticed except by Mrs. Whitman.'

"What is it you feel then? What makes you feel that way?" I set my portfolio on the table spread wide, and took a pen out of my suit pocket clicking it active. This made Mr. Patternik giggle.'

"Your reaction is just like Dr. Devaroux's. Except that he'd only take out his pen when I'd said something stupid."

"You didn't say anything stupid Rod. Why don't you just tell me why you feel differently from me?"

'He sighed deeply, putting his head down on the table. "You know you make those things look great." he said, looking up at me. "Those cigarettes, I should have tried them when I had the chance."

"Stop changing the subject Mr. Patternik. You opened this argument, now close it. Why do you think you feel differently about things than anyone else?"

"How many times have you been here Doctor?"

"What?"

"How many times have you been here? To this house? Here and now, sitting across from me. How many times have we done this?" he asked me. I was taken aback, and didn't know how to respond. "Don't you feel like you've been here before? Don't you, remember anything or feel anything familiar about this place?"

'I gazed around for his own comfort. "No Mr. Patternik, this is the first time I've been to this house." I took a firm drag from my Red and continued. "Before today and this morning I had never met you. I had never met Detective Glyner, Mrs. Whitman, and I still have yet to meet Dr. Devaroux." I scanned the portfolio regarding his comments. As I flipped through with Rod looking on, I could tell that Dr. Devaroux was hardly capable. His notes were crude, and doodles on every page. The comments he made lacked any depth whatsoever, and patient notes were alongside things like 'Shopping List' and 'Where I should look for sofas.' His assumptions alone made an ass of him, me, and anyone who shared the title of Doctor. I could see why Rod was so apprehensive about talking to me. His previous doctor was a complete joke, an unfunny one at that.'

"Well I'm glad you didn't meet Dr. Devaroux. He's as much of a doctor as I'm a young man." he chortled, and I couldn't help but snicker too. This caught him off guard. "Are you sure that you don't remember this Dr. Clements? None of this?"

'This hallucination, this ghost was trying so hard to get me to remember something. Something that just wasn't there. "No Rod. You're in my head now, displaying yourself for me to understand. You'd know if I remembered or not."

"No no, didn't you listen?" he rapped on the table. "I can't control your mind. I can't control your thoughts. I'm here, like the wave of light coming through the window is here. Or that dust is here. That's all. I thought you'd remember, I mean that's what I thought when I saw you this morning. That you'd remember."

'At the hospital, it did seem like he knew me. "What of that Rod? Why did you think I'd remember you?" This made him wriggle in his seat.'

"Because of what I remember of you before. Before it went all wrong. Before we failed like we had many times before." he finished with a sigh, now looking back towards the window. "Out there the night it happened, I saw the future. But it wasn't. It was the past, that I had missed. And I felt shame Dr. Clements. I had missed my chance."

'I thought at first he was being metaphorical, so I went along. "You mean life Rod? The chance to live and be free outside of your own mind? This house?" I flicked my cigarette ashless and continued. "It's never over Mr. Patternik, you can always be free and be your ow-"

"That's not what I mean Dr. Clements! Christ, how can you be so blind?" he screamed, bolting from his seat. It made no noise when he did, so at least my own imagination wasn't being toyed by whatever this was. It still wasn't real at that time Mary, though I was starting to feel it, as Mr. Patternik had put it.'

"What am I blind to Rod?" I asked, hanging my cigarette by its ash from the tabletop. "What am I missing that's so vital to understanding all of this? I've been willing to accept you as a manifestation of some sort, even as Mrs. Whitman herself was here too. She didn't see you, yet you chose me to talk to? Over a person who cared for you longer and more thoroughly than anyone else?"

"No it's just that she-"

"Tell me Rod!" I was losing patience. "Nobody else but me is aware of your presence. If you're some ghost, or hallucination, or even potentially something beyond that, you know that it ends with me. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, something you may have never experienced. Here and now, I'm clearly the last person even willing to invest in whatever or whoever you think you are." Patternik's manifestation had stopped pacing now, and was breathing deeply and silently across the table.'

"Now please, sit down." I said, with Rod complying, and re-seated himself without a sound. My portfolio was open, and my pen ready. My Red embered away, and I sat motionless preparing myself, as I normally do Mary, just to rehearse just how I can respond to whatever this thing had to say.'

"Alright Rod. I want to give you an opportunity that Dr. Devaroux obviously never extended to you."

"Oh? Is there a new pill I haven't heard of yet?" he gritted.'

'This made me chuckle. "Clearly, you're not alive Mr. Patternik, I think we both can say that. So any pills that I prescribe wouldn't work." I blunted, as he sighed unamused. "I'm talking about something that you couldn't even award to Mrs. Whitman. I could tell you cared about her, while you didn't trust Dr. Devaroux. I think, and feel, that the only thing missing in your life, was someone willing to listen to everything you had to say. To draw on everything you felt, feel, or want to feel. Everything you've thought to properly anazlyze your mind, and then to draw those two understandings into one, one which I can then use to understand you." I stated, while he stared back. I don't think he expected me to care as much as I did. Maybe it was another first for him. "Whatever and whoever you are, you go beyond my mind. You're not just in my head. I can tell alone by what you said earlier. Things that you knew that I didn't know, something my mind is incapable of."

"Are you sure you haven't been here before Dr. Clements? Or feel like it?" his eyebrows raised to me, and I didn't have an honest answer. How could I Mary?'

"I think I'd remember Mr. Patternik. I think I'd remember all of this, if even a subtle detail."

'He crossed his arms, tighter and tenser this time. "What about the Rodd-iite Brotherhood? Or SOLSA? Or the Doctor?"

'These still weren't familiar to me, and Dr. Devaroux's notes made no mention of them. But I didn't want to lie to him, and lose any trust I had gained so far. He was a wisp, a ghost. I felt if I said something wrong, he'd disappear as quickly as he had come. "I'm not familiar with those terms."

'He sighed, motioning at my portfolio. "Better start taking notes Dr. Clements. This could take a while.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

28.

'The Doctor's renewed confidence had given me hope as the two of us walked the long hallway to the main deck. It was one thing for me to get down on myself Diary3.0, as I had become so accustomed without even knowing it. But seeing Doctor Bandever losing hope was too much. He was the lynchpin of all of this, and his initial involvement may have sparked all this. But without him, we'd have been doomed to fail much sooner.'

'As we stepped through the whirring door of the main deck, I was expecting to see an all out brawl. We had a full compliment of Zulu warriors and a couple of gun toting cave-men. To my surprise, they all seemed to be getting along, all of them entranced by the green wall screen, with two of the Zulus, Stert and Blarne all ripping apart the nearby refrigerator. 662 stood off to the side with his weathered compatriot, talking amongst themselves and the other Zulus with 859 on the other side of the 'Main Deck' near the kitchen, slugging on his flask, supervising his cave-crew at work.'

"What's going on in here? You! Stop digging through that refrigerator!" the Doctor bellowed. This took the whole room off guard, as Stert and Blarne, paused for the odd translation, falling backwards clutching a shelf of full of eggs, bacon and bread falling down after them. They clattered onto the floor, the eggs cracking their yolks all over the metal surface.'

"Z'al'raight! Nuhbahdy muhv! Eet'z'dill oh'khay!" Blarne crooned as he sucked the yolks off the bare floor. A universal cringe shook the room, leaving only the cavemen unbothered. "Yew bray'kh'm yew eetum!" Stert chattered. Doctor Bandever was unhappy for more reasons than losing a future breakfast, flapping the Panel out of his coat pocket.'

"I would have thought the Nordius Prime computer system would have fixed these translation issues by now! This isn't the time for a communication breakdown!" he raged as he squiggled and tapped at his Panel furiously. The other Rodd-iites, Zulus, cavemen, even I stayed silent as he paced about. None of us felt compelled to interrupt his thinking. That is, except our Cave-Rod, 859.'

"Z'ahry'bhat 'dhem'bhird'ehgz Dahkter." I could feel Doctor Bandever's skin crawl just by standing next to him. RhadNhe stepped forward, which made the Doctor even more nervous.'

"Doctor, I wish to ask you about befor-"

"I have completed a solution 662!" Doctor Bandever jolted quickly. He reached deeper into his coats producing fifteen Panels on key-chains for the Zulu warriors and 859's caveman friends.

"Here are some of the devices that we have been using. They've been calibrated, to deliver the same shield system we used before." he said, counting twelve and handing them to RhadNhe. "Would you distribute those 662?" He obeyed, begrudgingly it seemed, and the Doctor turned to 859 and his cave friends, still sucking egg yolks off the grate floor.'

"I've modified these three for your friends 859. They should allow their breathing to go unhindered and will allow them to hear responses translated for them an-" 859's grunt interrupted the Doctor, and he tossed the three to the ground in a puddle of raw egg. Blarne picked up one and began to chew on it, while Stert poked at his with a crude flint blade. Dern was horrified of his, refusing to touch it, until 859 snarled, pointing at it menacingly. They quickly pocketed their Panels, and the Doctor turned wide-eyed; awestruck at their density, genuinely afraid for our future.'

"What about what I asked of you before Doctor? Will you answer the question I had poised, and for all our benefits?" 662 belted randomly, all eyes now focused on Doctor Bandever. If he was taken by surprise, he didn't show it. Alert, and poised, his Panel in hand, he had a response already.'

"You'll be happy to know RhadNhe and everyone, that I have isolated the SOLSA 'bug'." he said with a flick of his fingers. "Observe on the wall screen if you would."

'The screen wall melted from a view of the Caveman world, into a large cellular slide, illustrating a recording of a large purple cell. It was a magnified view, and it showed it in contrast to other healthy looking cells on a small diagram below it. The SOLSA bug was disproportionate in comparison. It had long spines jutting off its flaky exterior and thin tubes propelling it in many directions. It looked like a purple octopus; a cluster of rotten tentacles, drifting in a sea of innocuous and busy cells.'

"That's SOLSA?" I asked. Doctor Bandever nodded, elaborating.'

"Before you gentlemen, is the SOLSA bug. It is clearly different from the cells found in this normal host."

"Host?" 662's translation still wasn't functioning properly, which didn't bode well for the cavemen's either.'

"This cell, this SOLSA bug, is contained within the bay of the ship." the Doctor began, with an immediate protest from RhadNhe and an angry glare from 859.'

"You brought it here? Aboard the vessel we travel? Why would you do this?" RhadNhe was already distrusting of the Doctor's intentions, and this wasn't helping. 859 and his cadre had just come aboard, and this display wasn't reassuring, even to cavemen. Then, the Doctor threw a curveball.'

"I brought it aboard 662 specifically to study its effects, if we wish to destroy SOLSA in the future. Bear in mind that the bug itself is not shown to be transmittable." Doctor Bandever tapped his Panel, and the wall screen blipped up more graphs and charts of various data.'

"How do you know this? From what we saw on his world, it spreads quickly. How do we know that it hasn't spread further on the surface below since we have departed?" RhadNhe was astute for a warrior, but missed his calling as an academic. The Doctor still had the upper hand. 'Stay out of this Rod, I take no comfort in what I do now, but it's for the best.' my eardrum hummed. I stood silent, as he twisted the truth of what we both knew.'

"Based upon the information before you, the resistance level of the human antibodies which inhabit the normal human being, including all of us, is enough to overcome any potential influx of this disease." he said, as the animation on the large screen showed antibodies descending upon the rogue mutation. "Now this is a rather crude portrayal of how the immune system within us all functions, however you'll find that it exhibits the process well enough to understand. Correct?"

'662 flummoxed at this. I didn't know what to do. 859 and his cohorts, amused by the thought of even seeing images dancing across a wall, were seemingly indifferent. 662 on the other hand was studying the both of us. I was confident that he did not know about the ear device, or our conversation in the Komm-Bot Bay. Still, his misgivings were rippling their effect onto his twelve Zulu friends, as they all seemed less vibrant and assertive as before. RhadNhe must have spoken with him while the Doctor and I were in the Bay, and their expressions were confused and grim, painting a lack of understanding which was well founded, but a lack of conditioning to be compelled to speak openly. 662 must have been well revered on his world, as they all seemed gravitated to following his actions.'

"The gestation process itself occurs only through bite gentlemen, and through direct blood to blood contact with the host of the organism in question. It does not 'pollinate.'" the Doctor quoted.

"What we witnessed on the surface, what you were referring to 662, was in fact the final throes of its life. Saliva, food particles, there are a great number of things that it could have been. What we do know for certain, here and now gentlemen, is that it is not directly contagious."

'Rod, do not say a word. Please. I ask you this again because you know it's best to say otherwise. Please do not make even a move, you are being watched.' my ear hummed. I tried my best not to, but the Doctor's sporadic usage of the device made even me twitch, and I had worn it for years now. I wasn't sure if it was right at that moment because of it, or something after that convinced 662 not to trust us, but now it was more evident than before.'

"I saw it with my own eyes Doctor. Something from that creature entered the air. These devices, these Panels as you call them may help defend us, but what of our contact with the creatures themselves? What of your intentions to keep those you call the Rodd-iites, and their companions safe?" RhadNhe had struck a chord with our group, even 859 and his cavemen looking at us, questioningly now. For the first time I had questioned my safety with these familiar strangers, and I felt fear in that moment Diary3.0. Still, the Doctor was primed, and had clearly thought ahead, and looked down at his bracelet briefly.'

"Gentlemen, Rodd-iites and friends alike. While we await the Nordius Prime's computer to vector in the necessary coordinates to track the SOLSA ship's next movement, perhaps you'd like to see, as RhadNhe has put it, what will keep the Rodd-iites, and their worlds, safe from SOLSA. Follow me this way!" he crooned, overly jubilant. He was even a better salesman than me Diary3.0, I just shared the likeness of genius. Our hairy cave-friends seemed pleased about seeing the ship, along with the Zulus. Even 859 and RhadNhe, both of them growing in their skepticism towards us were enamored by the idea of standing outside the Main Deck and actually moving. They clustered together as they huddled out the door into the hallway. As they passed and I turned to follow, I heard the Doctor speak from the outside corridor.'

"Rod, that is, Rod 285, would you mind waiting here for the diagnostic to be complete? I'd like someone on the Main Deck itself to make us aware if SOLSA or their ship are on the horizon as well. Besides, this shouldn't take long, and it's not like it's a product you're unfamiliar with." he said bluntly, with 662 raising an eye as he moved on into the hallway.'

''Please Rod, you should remain here anyway so I can persuade them with ease. Any possible questions should be ones which we can control and are aware of. Remember that Rod, it will serve you well.' my eardrum rang out, and I remained stiff this time. I could swear the Doctor smirked at me under that mustache of his, knowing that I understood. All the others had moved off down the corridor, as the Doctor stood in the open doorway.'

"If you spot something, or the computer makes note of something on the screen, say 'Main Deck to Doctor Bandever', and I'll respond." he smiled as the pressure door whirred closed between us, and his tour with the others went off down to the Komm-Bot and Kommissar Bays. I looked around the room at the now filthy kitchenette, and the orange day-glo sofa and cluttered room, left in a disarray by the Zulus and the cavemen. It was disgusting, repulsive even.'

'Comparing it to how I used to be, how I used to live, it made sense that I shared a disconnection now with even these aspects of my personality. These Rodd-iites, while from different worlds, still had that sense that I understood them, and we each other, either through the memory of dreams or 'Mineral Memory' as the Doctor referred to it, or just the fact that we looked alike in some strange way, which was even more bizarre and improbable. Would I have been like them had I lived in their world? Would I be the same as I am now, or even recognizably close?' All of this had made my head spin, and I needed to sit down.'

'The fabric still felt familiar and comfortable Diary3.0, I'll never forget it. It was almost a reminder of how things used to be, how they were. I began to think of home, my earth. I felt myself drifting off, shaking it off, trying to stay awake. But my thoughts, thoughts of how all this had come to be, made me lightheaded, my exhaustion evident. I couldn't fight it. The jet-setting CEO grounded, and it was on virtually the same couch it had all started on. My head fell backwards, and my eyes dimmed at the sights and sounds of Nordius Prime, and the blips and chirps of a humming computer.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ok, Rod 553 if that's what your name is according to this, 'Rodd-iite Brotherhood' you're referring to, let's see if I can assemble all the facts you've given me." I began. This was too much for even me Mary. This hallucination, no matter how elaborate, was simply that. But I couldn't simply write it off, because it could be the pre-cursor to something much worse.'

'Because it could be from what I saw, or damage incurred from it. I didn't know, I still don't. Frankly, I was too vain to seek treatment for this delusion. You know me, all to well. I'm creative enough, and if my mind produced this, spirit, I had to find out on my own. I am a doctor after all. Mr. Patternik, or Rod 553, was sitting across from me, still staring out his window, eyes weighed with heavy, sullen bags. I shuffled the pages in front of me, flowing descriptions of what he had dictated.'

"According to you, Rod, being Rodney Allen Patternik, as of this morning, age 53 years old, dead, and formerly residing at this address, that this universe, the one which we live, is a fabrication based upon a memory."

'His manifestation nodded. "That's correct."

"And you became aware of this through a dream state which you enter when you are asleep?"

"Yes."

'I shuffled more to the second page where I had written about his fraternal organization. "This dream state, allowed you to be contacted by versions of yourself, from multiple universes?"

'He nodded solemnly. "Yes that's correct."

"And this took place in a classroom, the classroom you referred to before, the night of Mrs. Whitman's attack correct?" I asked, and he nodded in immediate reply. "And this, club, did it have membership dues or anything like that?" I chuckled.'

'Rod shook his head, not even a trace of humor left in his apparition. If he was an aspect of my psyche through an imbalance of some kind, he represented something troubled inside me Mary.

"There weren't any dues. It was open membership, attended by representatives of various Rod Patterniks, of many names and faces and titles through thousands of universes it seemed."

"So you were one of many? Did they have a ranking system or a hierarchy of any kind?" I was giving legitimacy to this delusion Mary, but I didn't care. This was Nobel Prize material.'

"The Doctor..." he stammered at first. "There was one of us, he didn't say what universe he was from, or what his designation was. Doctor Rod Bandever, not Patternik. He was the main speaker as usual, and explained to us how he was able to contact us. He usually led the meetings and the weird dances."

"Dances? What do you mean by dances?" I jotted it down. I laughed in my head, which produced an immediate reaction.'

"Mr. Clements, please, remember that since I'm in your head, it's your chemicals that are projecting the image of me through your eyes. Don't think I can't hear your thoughts, even if I can understand how ludicrous this all sounds." I was taken aback, and had to keep my own thoughts at bay it seemed Mary. This must have been a delusion. A whack to the head. But the inner psychologist, the one that had been groomed after all this time, maintained control.'

"Alright Rod. Do you prefer Rod, Mr. Patternik, or 553 was it?" I almost wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. He jostled intangibly in the chair across mine, exhibiting my dismay. It was too much, but so fascinating to me Mary. This was the type of mania I've always wanted to study, or at least understand. The fact that it could be my own was even more extravagant and intoxicating, as strange as it sounds. This wasn't something natural, to myself or my own imagination. I wanted to know everything.'

"Rod is fine. I'm not alive anymore to be 553 I just..." he sighed deeply. "I just gave up Mr. Clements. I just didn't care anymore. I've done this so many times, talked to you so many times, sat in this chair looking right at you, hundreds of times. Probably thousands. Millions maybe I don't know." he waved his arms in the air.'

"You had mentioned this before, about how many times this all happened before. Do you remember being dead before?"

'He sighed, raising his hands in exasperation, only to firm them in an attempt to convey what he was. "I'm not 'dead'" he said, quoting with his fingers. "I'm not me, in the sense that I'm what was left over."

"Left over?"

"A byproduct. An exfoliation. Pollination or something like it. The Doctor...Doctor Bandever, in my dream. I remember dreaming once where he explained how it worked. How he said 'every Rod had this innate ability because of our cross travel, which is why we can meet in this dream state'."

"Cross Travel? You mean between these dimensions where there are alternate versions of yourself?"

"Yes." he nodded. This was tricky, because I didn't know much on the subject aside from certain physical and pure aspects. This was way over my head Mary, higher than I could jump.'

"Well I have to say Rod, I don't know what to say. I haven't heard any of this, any of it, in any capacity before. Not in my daily life, not in passing at all. I don't know if I even would have heard a physicist, or anyone else talking in lengths like you have. It's pretty impressive I'll give you that."

'He frowned at me. "But you're not convinced, are you?"

"No, No Rod I'm not."

'He leaned across the table, his sullen gaze now fixed on me. "What about your dream?"

'This had to be a delusion. He knew about a dream which I hadn't told anyone, not even the nurses. "What dream?" I muttered, and he slammed the table. It was so loud and echoed, but he did it, not me. I don't know how it was possible, or how it should be possible.'

"You had the dream, the same dream I always have had Mr. Clements. Until not too long ago, I participated in every Rodd-iite operation. Every time the Nordius Prime was being attacked, I was there after they had come to retrieve me."

"Nordius Prime? What is that Rod?"

"The ship, the ship you saw in your dream. Where you saw everything go wrong. As it always does. It never goes right Mr. Clements! It never goes right!" he slammed on the table again, putting his head into his hands on the flecked surface.'

"But you said you were there, right? On this, Nordius Prime."

'His head nodded, with his face pressed against the tabletop. "I've dreamed about it every night since I was a kid. No part of it changes." I hadn't written anything in my portfolio yet about the dream. I probably should have in retrospect, but it's too late for that now. I just kept asking questions, I had to know more.'

"But something did change Rod." I said, with his head perking slightly. "You've died. You're no longer alive. This, all this, may as well be a dream of its own to me. You as well. I hope you understand this Rod." he put his head back down. I wasn't finished.'

"For example, I can write things here, and understand them. They're legible." I said, pointing at my portfolio and Bic pen. "They're written in reality, not a dream. In a dream world, you're incapable of making out shapes and numbers Rod, even I know this."

'He shook his head, still sticking to the table. "Doctor Bandever said something about that too."

"Ah yes this Doctor again, from your Rodd-iite Brotherhood dream. What was he a Doctor of again?" I wanted to make sure that this Doctor Bandever wasn't someone who I had encountered in my day without realizing it. There had to be an explanation as to why this delusion seemed so real, all the information it presented with accuracy. If I could find a tie that bound from something that I myself remembered from my day, it would be a good way to trick my imagination into forcing it to realize that Rod Patternik, was nothing more than a hit to the head and a rush of chemicals after. If only it was that easy Mary.'

"He didn't say what kind of doctor he was." he said, lifting his head from the dinette and sighing.

"Ok so I'll just write Doctor Bandever down." I said, scribing it neatly between the margins of my legal pad. It remained there, in print, legible, with the rest of Rod Patternik's account. This couldn't have been a dream, which means that I truly was suffering from some injury or imbalance. I should have stopped it right then and there, knowing this. But, you know me. I want to know everything. "So what exactly did he say about being able to read things within a dream?"

"Something about relational memory."

"Relational Memory, I've heard of this." I said, leading me further to the conclusion it was my own imagination. "It's the bridge that's made between the unconscious and conscious memory, correct?"

'He nodded, and I continued. "So why would relational memory play a part here Rod? How does that apply to a dream?" I asked, with him immediately shaking his head, and tried to convey with his flailing hands how incorrect I was.'

"Our universe, everything, is a memory of us. Every last bit of it. We've done it so many times that we see beyond even the reoccurring, and do things the same way without realizing we are."

"So...what you're saying if I'm not mistaken, is that we've been repeating the same events over and over? Without realizing it?" I asked, and Rod immediately nodded in compliance. "Well, there's already one flaw with your theory Rod."

"What's that?"

"Well, we have events that we do repeat often enough. It's called Déjà vu, and it's a condition that's commonly affiliated with temporal lobe conditions, one which if I'm not mistaken you have suffered from for some time." he didn't seem happy with my assessment, but I went on. "The repetition of events as you see it, does have to do with relational memory, as your friend Doctor Bandever, whoever he was, may have noted."

"No you don't under-" I didn't let him finish. He's my delusion I can make or break him as I see

fit.'

"No you don't understand, whoever you are. I know for a fact that I'm not dreaming." I said, knocking on the table. "I accept the fact that you are no doubt a chemical induced apparition, more than likely here because of what I saw happen to the real Rod Patternik, and the effect on my head after. All that I've written here, The Rodd-iite Brotherhood, Doctor Bandever, SOLSA, all of it, all of it in my own imagination. I'm sorry Mr. Patternik, or whoever you are, but I just know better. Whatever you are, is a byproduct of my divorce, my work habits, and what I saw today put together, and I'm going to prove it." I had enough, and was going to the hospital to get myself checked. It was the only choice I had left, as this delusion was proving more troubling the more it said. I got up to leave and turned to the door, walking, until I heard him say my name.'

"Mr. Clements?"

'I turned back. "Yes Mr. Patternik?" I joked.'

'He smiled back. "You've said all this before. At least 100 times."

'I was about to lash out at this imbalance, but he put up his hands. "Now out of the 40 or so times you've responded to this before stomping out the door, I want you to do something for me. This should help you prove that I'm just a delusion to you. A hallucination." I was intrigued.'

"Ok, what do you want me to do?"

'He pointed at me. "After you go get yourself examined, and I know you're going to." he smiled, waving a finger, then pointing down to tap the table. "I want you to come back here."

'I looked around. "Here? Like back here, here?"

"Yes Mr. Clements. I want you to come back here, at..." he paused for a moment, "I want you to come here at 9 o'clock tonight."

"Why? Why 9 o'clock?"

"Shh. Please Mr. Clements. I want you to come back here at 9 o'clock tonight, sharp." he said, turning to the kitchen window with the bloody print. "And I want you to wait there, right there in front of the window.

"

"This window? Right here?" I walked over to it, crossing over the creaky wood beams below. It still had the thumbprint on it, and the drips of blood pooling at its face. "What am I supposed to see here Rod? Anything different than what I see now?" I asked, gazing out of it. There was still a line of thick brush covering my view of the entire street, or the yard. I could only make out the intersection in the distance from between two withered trees.'

"You never know what you may see Mr. Clements. Take me for example." he said. I turned to him, a grin stretching across his face.'

"Ok Mr. Patternik, fine. Fine." I said, raising my hands, pinching myself on the wrist with my right hand. This made him laugh again.'

"It's not a dream!" he said laughing, only to tame himself. "But you're right in thinking that I'm not real. That I'm actually dead. I am, but what you're seeing is something inside your brain." I was beginning to fear the worst, and Mr. Patternik's, 'ghost', could see it in my eyes.'

"Go to the hospital Mr. Patternik. I know you're going to. You're going to go back to the same hospital where I was treated, to retrace your steps. What would Glyner do, right?" he said, as my blood thickened. "Stop being so afraid Mr. Clements. I wouldn't have done this, all this, if I didn't know what was going to happen already. I could keep talking, including everything that you could say in response right now." he giggled, leaning back in the chair silently. "But I won't. I need your help Mr. Clements, and I need you to believe me, even if it's all too crazy to imagine." he leaned in the dinette at me, still standing close to the window's peering light. "But you're imagining this now, and you're not crazy. I can tell you that much." He sat back in his chair, and continued staring straight ahead.'

'I didn't know what to do now. I had to see if I was injured or not, and walked past the table and out of the kitchen to the bare dining room. But I stopped, because I had to know something else. "Are you...trapped here? Like will I see you if I return, or are you going to keep following me to the hospital?" I was flabbergasted and confused Mary. I was seeing something that shouldn't be possible, and if it is, is indicative of mania and delusions of mass proportion. Mr. Patternik, though he was dead, seemed to be taking his appearance in stride.'

"I told you Mr. Clements, I'm dead. What you're seeing here is just a manifestation of a message that I sent to you, that you felt before I died on the floor of the hospital room." he said. I remembered it now. I felt dizzy, and saw him staring at me Mary.'

"Is that what you meant? When I fainted from seeing you bloody and dying? What you were saying to me befo-" he nodded before I even needed to finish. "So you're some kind of, trance effect? Something like a hypnotic suggestion?" I was starting to believe Patternik was real, and really in front of me Mary. All my senses signaled it to be true. But he shook his head at this.'

"It's beyond that Mr. Clements. It's chemicals and minerals. Minerals from other things, other universes as a result of an invention."

"An invention? Like a time machine?" I was grasping at straws. I'm no movie buff Mary, but I was trying to comprehend where this could be coming from.'

'He sat in the light from the kitchen window, the sun's rays now stained by his bloody print. "Something that was made to make life easier, made life everywhere worse. It was something that was made by Doctor Bandever, and it worked but it didn't." he clapped his hands atop the table. "That's all I know for sure. That's all I knew before I died."

'I was intrigued. Even more than I had been before. He was speaking in terms I could recognize, alluring me to the notion it was just my own mind. But his logic was foreign, alien in its symptom and dangerous in its exhibition. If he truly was a chemical bond, a pollination of some sort, his disease could linger within me now. Perhaps he was harboring a pathogen, but when I thought of this, right then, the expression of understanding was wiped clean from his face, and his eye's shook off the weight of its luggage, and his face drooped in exasperation. As though he had watched his whole life tumble away in the blink of an eye, right before mine.'

"What's wrong? Did you hear what I was thinking? About it being a pathogen?" my words forced his head into his hands, and he began to sob. "Rod, if this truly isn't just my own mind, if this really is something that's caused your illness that's affecting me now, it's not just you!"

"No..."

"No? No it's not? Rod your mental illness could have easily been caused by this chemical you're referring to. I mean..." I was grasping at straws again Mary. "If it can cause the hallucination of you in me, then clearly it can-"

"No! No Mr. Clements!" he bellowed, standing up between the dinette and me. "You don't understand! Still!" he was quaking now, and my body had frozen in fear. His features were darkened by slices of shadows emitted between the dying veins of branches outside. As he reseated himself piously, and stared back into the flecked table, I couldn't help but empathize with him, whatever he was. If he was my own imagination Mary, I was deceived by my arrogance. If he was something more, the answer was still the same. I was in uncharted waters, and still am. As he stared off into the grains of dinette, I turned to walk out the door, to his voice stopping me.'

"Mr. Clements..." he began. I turned, halfway through the dining room to the front door. "Remember to be here. Remember 9 p.m. That's when they were coming to get me."

"Who?"

"The Rodd-iites. I didn't remember it until now. Maybe it's because I'm dead. Maybe it's because I always knew it and just didn't want to accept what I had to do. Makes sense what I did to avoid it huh?" he said, flexing his flawless hands and wrists. It was better than how I had remembered them just earlier; gnarled and ripped stumps, bubbling dark geysers of blood. But now I was more intrigued, again.'

"Why didn't you remember until now? It probably would have been a good thing to know before you died." he laughed at this, openly. I guess I was funnier than I thought.'

"Mr. Clements, if I could have remembered that exactly every time, then we wouldn't need you, would we?"

"We?" I was starting to get nervous.'

"The Rodd-iites. The Rodd-iite Brotherhood. They're coming here to get me. Or at least were."

"But..." I stopped myself befor I could finish. This was becoming too real, and it's only because he looked real enough, to be just that. I wanted to just rush back over to the table and shake this fact into his non-existent body. But it wasn't worth it Mary. "You're not real! You don't exist! I'm going to prove it!"

'I walked to the front door ripping it open. I didn't even turn back when I heard Patternik's image cry out when I passed through the doorway.'

"140 Mr. Clements! 9 o'clock tonight! Don't forget!" I ignored the sounds, and slammed the white front door behind me with its lock snapping autonomously. The back door was still unlocked, and would be when I decided to go back tonight. I should have made it an 'if' rather than a guarantee for this ghost Mary. Or whatever it was.'

'My head was throbbing as I thrashed through the brushes to get to the car. All of this Mary, all of it. I couldn't deal with it today, it was too much already. Branches and dried thickets clung to me as I wrenched through them. I didn't care. I saw the path through it, but I didn't care. Mr. Patternik's yard was a mess, and it looked the part to blend in with the block. The street was still deserted, and the sun had sat at the top of the sky, frozen too by what I had seen, and was starting to teeter westward. It must have been after twelve. How long had I been in there? I stomped off the mud, blood, and whatever else I had tracked to my car before I fumbled my way in and closed the door behind me.'

'Something stopped me right then Mary. I couldn't move. I couldn't drive, I couldn't even think. My windshield is still filthy, aside from the tracks left by the wiper's blades. I was lost, from a feeling that wouldn't permit itself to exist in my predisposed mind. I couldn't analyze this for what it was worth, it was like everything I knew and had come to know about my life and you, and Simon and my job was all that I had. And now I can't even grasp, the most foggy details involving a hallucination from a dead man. If I report this to the nurses, they'll have me in observation overnight. They'll be on the phone to DHS and they might even suspend me, if they don't try to sedate me first. I didn't know where else to turn. I knew you wouldn't understand or could understand what was happening, either to me or with my work. You always thought I cared more about these people than I did you. Maybe you're right Mary. I guess I only ever just saw it my own way.'

'I started the car and turned around at the end of the street. I wanted to make sure I avoided the other nurses if I managed to get through the ER without being seen by the same staff I'd been checked in by. They'd see that I'd been there earlier, but they wouldn't know that I had seen Mr. Patternik die. What was happening to me? I was starting to think in terms of how people would perceive things that I would do, how I'd see myself doing them. It was bizarre Mary. I felt like I was losing it right then and there in traffic

to the hospital. It was only a few miles down the road when I began thinking again.'

'What did it, Patternik, mean by 'retrace my steps?'. And why did he bring up Glyner? What would Glyner do? What's that supposed to mean? I was totally lost Mary, and only a few blocks from CC Beechwood, the hospital where it all happened. Retracing my steps would start there wouldn't it? I was completely lost, so I turned on the radio as I neared the hospital. I didn't feel like listening to the news which I had left on. More about the economy and the Pan Asian cease-fire. I flicked it to the FM dial. It must have been a slip, and I never even put FM on in my car, but it was already pre-set from its owner from years ago.'-

-'He'll tell you he's the king

Of these barrio streets

Moving up the shangri-la!

Came by his wealth as a matter of luck

Says he never broke no law

Two time loser running out of juice

Time to move out quick

Heard a rumour going round

Jimmy's going down

This time it's gonna stick!

He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood!

He's the one that makes ya feel all right!

He's the one they call Dr. Feelgood!

He's gonna be your Frankenstein!'-

-'I had never heard this music before Mary, ever. It was a bygone trend, metal or rock music when I was growing up. It wasn't something I really paid much attention to, but I was trying my best to focus still on what Patternik was saying, besides returning to his shamble of a home around 9 o'clock that evening. I didn't know how to approach the problem of what was happening to me, with a source I knew to be trusting. Someone who'd understand. I made the right turn through the intersection, and pulled into the parking lot of the Beechwood Row B. And as I drove up, in my path, stumbling, was none other than Detective Frank Glyner.'

'He was staggering towards a brown sedan that was parked under a malnourished tree walled in by a square of concrete curb. The radio blared on in the background, back to some jabbering DJ.'

"100.7 WMMS THE BUZZARD, Motley Crue there with 'Dr. Feelgood', gotta hand it to those guys if you can find a way to cope with what they were going through and succeed in what you need to then, well you've already figured out everything you needed to know. Back in 2 minutes after a word from some of our sponsors don't go away."

'I was frozen in awe. And slightly in terror I might add. Rarely do intuitive cues and notions overcome my thinking. It's just not something I'm even accustomed to hearing, or seeing first hand. Glyner was stooping over the driver's side now, peering into his brown cruiser. I rolled my Passat two spots over from his and turned it off, radio first, as he remained unmoved. I grimaced, knowing or at least feeling what I had to do. Exactly what I never would have done before.'

'I stepped out onto the pavement, and began walking closer, the two of our cars in a sea of pavement, dotted with islands guarded by sickly birches. The emergency entrance to the hospital was around the corner from where Glyner must have stumbled from, and it looked like he had passed out, the top of him slumped over the roof of his rusted Crown Victoria. He must have heard my footsteps as I approached, and turned his head and he rumbled with half a chortle, and most of a groan.'

"Oh you again. Come to see justice done Doc?" he slurred through coughs of laughter, leaning back over his car's roof. He looked like he might have been drooling.'

"What do you mean?" I asked. I still thought he was talking about Mr. Patternik. I was within a few steps of him, but I stayed firm as he flew around to face me, his glazed and watery eyes piercing mine.'

"You here to watch over that fucknut too? The one I just interviewed?"

"Huh?"

'He walked closer to me from his unmarked, and this time I did back away. He stopped when I did. "Why are you here then?"

"What fucknut do you mean Glyner? Do you mean Patternik?"

'His glare was flooded with confusion, and he blinked a few times before rooting himself from swaying.

"You did-n't hear?" he drawled with whiskey breath. "Sum dumb...motherfucker stabs his girlfriend, right? Then uses the blayyde to carve her name his baby girl's chest. Whyyle-she's in her crib. Wanna know why Patternik? Why he did that?"

'I could feel more than I had before from him Mary. I felt my cold exterior, a statue of work, begin to give way to its environment. My outer shell was eroding, and the bindings of my being were exposed to the world they had been protected from, by a sheen of arrogance and self-deceit. "Why did he do it Glyner?"

'He swayed to his left, and righted himself by falling back against his door. I stood as he corrected himself, stains on the front of his shirt and tie which he covered by formally clasping his suit's front over, buttoning. "His old layydy, the woman he stabbed fourteen times, was at the store getting food, for him and their baby. Apparently," he said, pointing at the hospital, "that motherfucker was unhappy that the bhaaby that was crying, never wanted to hold'er, or even try to console'er. Instead," he leaned against the side mirror, "He wayyits for'er to get home, his girlfriend, takes a kitchen knife, and stabbs her. Keeps doooin' it Clements. Before she even closed the fuckin' door, or put down his fuckin', goddamn groceries!" he looked like he was going to be overcome.'

'He leaned over himself, jutting against the side of his brown sedan. I didn't know how to help, all I knew what to do was what I had learned; sit across, listen, diagnose. So I did the opposite, as I had already so many times since seeing Patternik. I walked alongside Glyner and leaned against the car to his left.'

"I dun't need yer sympathy Doc. Or your diagnosis." he said, standing and looming next to me, sniffing.

"We already established your sentiment regarding mine." he said, drawing his hand into his coat pocket.'

"Mind if I take a draw of that Glyner?" I said, nodding at his hand. He froze, clearly surprised at my change.'

"What's wrong Doc? Gonna impound my liquor too?" he said, drunkenly staring me down as he shadowed my right. He suddenly cracked a smile and handed me his flask, it shook in his hand. I took it and threw back a quick shot. It burned, I'm not a drinker, and I gagged and coughed over its fumes. I almost dropped the flask but Glyner, spry for a drunk, grabbed my arm and his flask back in a quick motion only a cop could do.'

"Easy'there Clements, dun't neeeed to impress me." he said, drawing another healthy dose from his silver scrip before putting it back into its pocket holster. I was still coughing as he patted me on the back.

"Take it easy take it easy." he sniffed. "That stuff'snot for amateurs." he laughed, leaning back victoriously against the car. I finished hacking and stood against the car as well, the two of us gazing across the pavement sea, my Passat tethered to a birch isle nearby.'

"So why are you'ere then Clements? Mmm?" he said, crossing his arms and shifting his weight back against the Ford. "Why'd you come here then? Some paperwork for Patternik or the like?" he said, raising a drunken eyebrow. I didn't know how to be frank, but it's something I never would have done. Impulse, seemed to be the only path to the answer I had left. At least if Patternik's image was right.'

"I...had a problem earlier. When I went to Patternik's home."

"Oh?" he hiccupped, looking back across the hazy pavement. "What were you'doin there?"

'I dug into my pocket, retrieving my own poison, my cigarettes, and took two out of the pack, offering one to Glyner. He looked at it, longingly, finally taking one and putting it to scratchy lips. "Well Glyner, you and I have something in common." I said, lighting my cigarette and torching Glyner's for him as well.

"We're workaholics. At least I think you are, but I know I am."

'He nodded, taking a long drag, as I went on. "So I passed out seeing Patternik lying there dying."

"Yea I remember that." he said half, giggling, blowing smoke everywhere. "Sorry Doc, keep goin'."

"Well, I had a dream. A fucked up dream." I said, taking a short drag, "Something more along the lines of a nightmare."

"A nightmare?" he asked. "About Patternik? Blood or something? Look that's normal Doc, that comes and goes." he said flicking his hand in the air.'

"No, not about Patternik specifically, but he was there. It was just...it was something that seemed familiar, but not, does that make sense?"

'Glyner's expression hardened, then winced, grasping and straining for a similar memory. "I don't know what you mean. I mean, you're the Doctor here right Clements?" he quipped, tapping ash off his cigarette. "I thought you didn't know Patternik before that? How would he be familiar?"

"I don't know, I just...I don't know how to describe it."

'He took another drag, still staring off across the lot. "Just try to then. Do your best to describe it so I can understand then." He was more compliant than he was earlier, even if it was because he had been softened by liquor. Something more in him, than just a detective was trying to understand what I was saying.'

'I didn't hold back Mary. I told him everything, everything I could remember. I told him how I first lost consciousness, because of losing sound around me, a piercing wane and a loss of balance. His expression became lost however, when I told him about being aboard a ship, feeling as though I had already been knocked down. I told him about humans, Zulu warriors much to his surprise, running past me with robots in tow, at something horrible and huge. I rambled off about the metal robots firing at one another, and the tentacles flying around, knocking things apart. About how Patternik stood there, dead even in my dream, repeatedly saying how he had seen it over and over.'

'Then I told him about Patternik's house in detail. How I had gone there thinking that I needed to approach his problem like a detective, which even made Glyner crack a smile. But I told him about everything, the Zulus, the robots, everything that Patternik told me, including about his apparition at his home. About the Rodd-iite Brotherhood, the monster called SOLSA, and just about everything else I could think of that had happened, including going to Patternik's home at 9 p.m. that night, which is why I had been reluctant to go back into the hospital to get treated. Then I ended with my arrival at the hospital, seeing him sprawled over the roof of his car in a drunken stupor. I looked to see if my words had any effect on the solemn Glyner.'

'His face was locked at the ground in front of him, eyes scanning subtle surfaces I couldn't see or hear. He knew I was sober, even drunk as he was, and his expression as I described the details in length began to take depth, and his own eyes gazed out path the pavement, deep into the cracks in the ground beneath and surrounding. The fact that I had even asked for dose of whiskey from him had proven that much. His eyes were working, in a way's that only a policeman would, concentrating on an outcome necessary to achieve the desired result. A scientist of a different caliber, but one whose insight was needed. Finally, after a long silence, my words hanging on scales within Glyner's mind, weighing my account in rye laden buoyancy, he spoke.'

"Let's go get a drink. I'm buyin'."

'That was his solution? "Wait, Glyner what are we gonna do about-"

"Clements, you asked me for my help. This parking lot, where we are? Isn't exactly an environment I can think on.'

'I shrugged, flicking a long string of ash from my cigarette. "You don't look like you can drive."

"Good, I can't think while I'm driving." he said, stumbling at my Passat. I watched as he made his way over slowly, walking on a stupor trapeze, and even my slow sober steps carried me to the car first. His uneven steps eventually carried him to the passenger door, which he nearly ripped off its hinges to open.'

"Jesus watch it!" I bolted. His glazed expression looking back at me.'

"Christ Clements you act like this is your home or som-" he stopped when he noticed the boxes, the hamper full of laundry, the coffee maker and the blender in their packages on his seat. I thought I'd get a lecture but he said nothing, and gracefully placed the boxes on the back floor, where there was room. His huge frame dwarfed the room left, and I felt the car lurch to the side once he wriggled and finally settled. He noticed me gawking.'

"Oh, now you're gonna come down on me over my weight? You're a ballsy bastard Clements you know that?"

"Sorry, I've been having a bad week." Saying this really almost made me quiver, even with Glyner sweating all over my car's seat, and noticing me in pain. I didn't care. I know you don't either Mary, but it should help you understand. At least I hope.'

"No need for that Doc. Let's get this story of your's squared away first, then we can laugh alright? Pull out to the right I'll give you directions."

"To where?" My car unhinged, with the two of us now sailing out of the hospital parking lot; the birch islands swaying goodbye.'

"My watering hole Clements. I have some demons to drown before I can think about what you're saying. Pull out over here, take a right." We turned out onto the boulevard and had stopped at the intersection, and I was mulling over what he said about Patternik, and how he had been crazy and deserved what happened. Yet here he was, riding shotgun on a whim with a borderline quack who had ridiculed him just hours earlier. What drove this man? I needed a break from my thoughts, and I turned the radio back on to mask the silence.'

'I turned the dial, with THE BUZZARD coming alive over the radio. The FM was still locked in, I hadn't changed it back. "Never took you for a rock fan Clements. Figured you'd be listening to stock reports or something."

'I nodded as the light changed. "I must have known I was missing out on something I guess."

'He chuckled at this. "The Rockin Doc." he laughed harder, ending on a dry cough. "Even your yuppie ass surprises me."

"You know, you're the second person to call me that today?" I laughed. "It's funny, I used to get so pissed whenever someone would say that, my wife Mary...ex wife, her and her sister used to say I was that in spades." My nervous attempt at humor was unappealing to Glyner, who gazed out the dirty window at the rows of buildings and fumbling for his flask.'

"You are what you see Doc, you know that. Go two blocks up, I'll show you when to turn." I had treated him badly, yet even drunk and still fully on duty in every capacity of mind and body, he was still treating me fairly. It was a humbling moment. The silence overcome by the echo of guitar and bass. I had never heard it, and Glyner seemed dulled from a lack of whiskey to notice. A fragment of it struck me deeply, and I remember it even now.'-

-'Well, if it seems to be real, it's illusion

For every moment of truth, there's confusion in life

Love can be seen as the answer

But nobody bleeds for the dancer

And it's on and on, on and on and on...'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'I knew I was dreaming again. I must have fallen asleep on the day-glo couch, which was understandable since I was completely exhausted. But it wasn't anything from my normal dreams, or the ones that I had before. I wasn't in the classroom. I definitely wasn't in my apartment back on my earth, and I didn't see the Doctor, or 662, or the other Rodd-iites. I was in a suit, and I felt the same as I normally did. There was no sound, not even from my footsteps. Only a shrill ringing, not even my own heartbeat. I didn't know what was happening.'

'There was this room...it looked familiar Diary3.0, but I can't place it. I just remembered something about its shape. It was circular, and had doors like the Nordius Prime, but they were enormous, as were large pillars lining the walls containing fruit bearing plants and other plants shrouded by low light. I don't know how I had gotten there, but the floor, the floor Diary3.0 was what made me remember.'

'It was the same as Nordius Prime's, but different. The spaces between the grating were too large, and the support beams running beneath the grates were too wide and seemed disproportionate, even for a dream. I was in motion, stepping across various lines in the floor, and had stopped, I didn't know why, but it was a moment in the dream that made me stop. Something that I stopped to say to myself, but couldn't hear. There was movement up ahead, a wide pressure door unlocking in front of me. It whirred open, and through it ran 859, lumbering past me only to clomp to a halt.'

'I tried to say something to him, but I couldn't find the words. Or I must have, I couldn't tell from the ringing. From the way he had stopped, I could tell there was a problem, as he stooped down and grabbed me with his hairy arms, and began shaking me violently. His face was stretched from a deep grimace, panting soundlessly between his gnashing teeth. He looked furious, enraged even, but I didn't know why. The words he was screaming were muffled and nonsensical to me. I squinted, trying to read his lips, their movements quickly became untraceable and indecipherable. This was the most intense dream I'd had yet, and I didn't notice an explosion behind us, from the door which 859 had entered until he turned facing a large flash. As I turned to see its flames recede, I saw something unbelievable.'

'The door which I had seen my Cave-friend emerge had been blown open from the middle of its pressure switch. Between the twisted shreds, I could see Komm-Bots, undamaged and clean, against putrid and grime covered others, surrounding a flowing and brown tentacle-like limb, made of Komm-Bots and what looked like pieces of creatures, SOLSA bugs and people. Zulus, and tufts of cave-hair dotted its liquid skin. It became viscous and flowed around the room, sucking the robots in place and ripping them apart at their seams. Their circuits melted and their limbs were sucked and plied onto the outer husk of this endless creature. My legs were rooted in fear; this was SOLSA?'

'I was brushed from behind; 859 charging back into the room, knife drawn. I stood, granite in pose. I didn't know what to do. This wasn't just a Rodd-iite Brotherhood dream. This was something much worse. It was the first time I saw future events unfold before my eyes Diary3.0, beginning in dreams then in reality.'

'As I could barely make out the silhouette of 859's massive frame over the plumes of confined gun-smoke, the shrill piercing became a wane, and a nearby flashing light came to life, and emitted a strobe which matched the din. I covered my ears in pain, as its pulse shook me in the dream, and I could feel its wave and shudder. Before I knew it my eyes had clasped shut, but the noise persisted, even as I awoke.'

'The lights and sirens on the main deck were flashing all around me, and the green screen had turned itself off completely. The room was aglow in red and yellow lights from the wall adjacent to the kitchenette, and their repeated flashing with the howl of the siren was deafening, more intense than the dream's had been. The couch obscured my view of the Main Deck's pressure door, and over the wailing sirens I heard it whir apart, revealing a broad beam of light from the entrance to the hallway. Doctor Bandever was first through the door, followed by the other Rodd-iites and their cadres.'

"What's going on? What's happening?" 662 fevered. I hadn't the foggiest, and I shrugged as I sat up from the couch. I must have smirked at the time, as I genuinely believed that this was just another part of the same dream. The Doctor wasn't amused.'

"Rod, didn't you see what happened? Why is the screen off?" he wrestled the day-glo cushion up under my legs knocking them off. I must have slept on top of it, and through any alert or early warning system which had gone off, and was still groggy from being awoken into a bright and ominous din. I still didn't know if I was dreaming at the time or not. He dug until he pulled out the small corner wedge of the Panel, deactivated after being submerged inside the couch. The room was full again and still noisy as the Doctor clicked on its power supply.'

"Now to see what has happ...Oh god!"

"What?" RhadNhe gasped.'

"What is it?" I truly didn't know, and my dream beforehand did not bode well. Doctor Bandever's face had drained pale in the Panel and warning lights' glow, in the blink before it happened.'

"It's the other ship! It's SOLSA!" he gaped. "It's too late! Grab hold of som-"

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Associated Press

6/2/94

For Immediate Release

PTEKK to Operators and Earth: Stand By.

'Green Light' given to PTEKK Operators, as Justice Department investigation into corruption, misconduct stymied.

New York\- Matilda Terenstry, CEO of PTEKK International, held a press conference early this morning on the front steps of the PTEKK Chrysler Building after the Justice Department ruled that its investigation would be coming to a close due to a lack of direct and corroborating evidence. These allegations stemmed from sporadic reports of corruption and misconduct, supposedly done on part or by direct knowledge of the board of directors of PTEKK International.

"Today is a strong day for democracy, and a strong day for free enterprise on planet Earth."

The original allegations were connected to testimony released by Interpol at the behest of captured members of the former Federal Republic of Botswana. Other allegations made by the South African government detail PTEKK's direct involvement with its manufacturing plants, and the proliferation of arms to be used by rebels against the former Botswana regime. The plants producing the weapons, later identified and popularized as 'Komm-Bots', were located in a region of South Africa close to the southern Botswana border. Other plants are located throughout the world, including many in the United States.

The charges themselves were not pursued in the South African court, as the four witnesses whose testimony could place Komm-Bots being used in the field against Federal troops, went missing while conducting a telecommunication survey within a nature preserve in Botswana. Investigators working with Interpol were unable to trace their whereabouts, with no evidence of foul play found or reported. Suspicions of their ties to the former Federalist government proved questionable, and efforts by NATO and the African Union have been made to reach the remaining Federalist Blockade, deep within the Nature Reserves of Botswana. Interpol believes that the fighters taking refuge, having been driven out of the capital by rebel forces, may have taken the survey team hostage. Investigators find the connection to the disappearance of the witnesses and their upcoming testimony as 'questionable and disturbing.'

"It's quite clear, that anyone who wanted to point a finger at the BFA, or its militias, or even PTEKK, would be in jeopardy. No matter where in the world they were." one investigator was quoted as saying. "We do not have any evidence of foul play, or of a disturbance in nature that would suggest any violence or kidnapping occurred."

PTEKK Legal Head Attorney, Thomas DeMinero, slammed the accusations by Interpol and the South African government as well. He stood alongside Ms. Terenstry, who had sidestepped questions regarding legal matters, and was available for comments from reporters after she had concluded. When asked initially about the allegations made by the former heads of the Federalist Party in Botswana and the South African government, Mr. DeMinero lashed out against what he called 'shoddy police work' and described the state of the Botswana government as 'in traction, and transition.' He elaborated further when pressed about PTEKK's involvement in the funding and arming of the BFA.

"PTEKK, while gaining its first start in hover scooters and flying cars, always has had a vested interest in the powers of government, and that of democracy. In its short and bright tenure, this company has weathered many attempts by subversive elements, using the Justice Department and the legal system to overstep, to overstep the bounds of free enterprise. The allegations made, on part of the South African government and that of the Federalist Party of Botswana have no merit...The central focus of the case itself, was resting on the testimony of four witnesses. Four! Out of...how many people are in southern Botswana? How many people didn't see PTEKK Komm-Bots being used in combat? Plenty! How could four people, regardless of their prior employment, see something that tens of thousands of refugees and soldiers couldn't?"

While the current government, the Free Republic of Botswana (BFA), acknowledges that their government uses PTEKK products at this time, it strongly denies that its troops or forces used them during the initial conflict against former government forces. The Prime Minister pro tempore, Mad'aan Bouyana, fired back at the allegations made against the newly created government's involvement.

"There is no evidence, of...this misconduct that is being touted, and inflated in the media, to...to support the claims of any action by PTEKK, to allow munitions, and weapons, to be used...before, the rebellion began."

Federal investigators and government officials have been reluctant to cast an opinion on the matter. Vice President George Bush was quoted as saying 'it's in the best interest of justice to allow the world body to weigh the allegations for themselves.' Prosecutors within the United States, specifically cities such as Detroit and Omaha, have since dropped many of their cases against PTEKK, citing a lack of evidence to support claims of subversion and corruption. All of the plants within the United States 'remain active and producing' according to Ms. Terenstry.

At the press conference, Ms. Terenstry also outlined a new battle plan which would be in 'enacted shortly,' regarding the movements of the Nordius Prime II in the pursuit of the Nordius Prime I. While she acknowledged that she had yet to receive a signal from Rod Andrews, former CEO and founder of PTEKK International, she stressed that Operators and other employees 'remain on constant stand-by,' and hinted at the possibility of a PTEKK strike against SOLSA 'within the week.'

"With the help of PTEKK Intergalactic's new chief Dr. Arthur Winkler, we've managed to track the movements of the Nordius Prime I. We cannot dispatch a rescue party at this time, as the Nordius Prime II remains under construction due to what I am told is related to a technical flaw."

Ms. Terenstry then outlined the mission of the Nordius Prime II, a growing eyesore to the company which in the past week alone experienced what was called 'a major technical default' in its structural construction. The construction of its main dimensional device, the TransFlash Collider, was completed 'without difficulty or incident' according to Dr. Winkler, and its differences to the Nordius Prime I's device were brought to light.

"It's a much larger version of the device in question aboard the Nordius Prime I. Its displacement is similar to that of the propulsion systems delivered by the existing Electron Cell systems, but the mass of the ship in question required a stronger device to support its transit through TransFlash. In order to make the device stronger, we had to make it larger to compensate. In addition, the resources required for Komm-Bots and Kommissars, and a potential invasion force of a SOLSA world that the Nordius Prime I may encounter, would require a better delivery system than merely that of simple docking bay."

Dr. Winkler took the time to outline the other differences made between the Nordius Prime II and its predecessor, detailing the larger Hydroponic Bay, Living Quarters, and the increased compliment of Kommissars and Komm-Bots aboard.

"While Rod Andrews is aboard the Nordius Prime I, even the original design for its living quarters was flawed. We've taken the time to make room for better accommodations for potential visitors or travelers to other dimensions from here using the new ship."

He also commented on its technical defaults he had outlined just days ago, adding that 'significant changes and solutions were made and found' in regards to his previous statement. He went on when asked about the construction of the Nordius Prime II being completed in time to fend off a potential SOLSA invasion.

"PTEKK Intergalactic and its respective operators, are working tirelessly to ensure that the Nordius Prime II, will be completed for the pursuit of SOLSA, the rescue and recovery of the Nordius Prime I, and the defense of our earth."

Both Ms. Terenstry and DeMinero dimissed questions regarding the allegations of misconduct among facilities owned and run by PTEKK Medical. Described as 'horrific' by Justice Department investigators, they found evidence of 'gross negligence' and 'criminal misconduct' on the part of PTEKK Medical employees at their Neural Grafting facility, located in San Diego. Mr. DeMinero did voice his opinion regarding the work of PTEKK in the medical community.

"PTEKK Medical, is single-handedly responsible for wiping out the idea of Alzheimer's. Not just Alzheimer's, the idea itself. It's monumental, and the efforts of one company, have overshadowed hundreds of years of medicine, psychology, and physiology, to reach the summit of knowledge we share between all of us today."

Before the end of the press conference, Ms. Terenstry also gave a sneak peak into tomarrow's release of new products, including what was described as 'the end of physical mobility as we know it.' Dr. Winkler hinted coyly as well, noting:

"We may be physically making products today, but tomorrow, the world will have the power to make a product appear at their finger tips."

Bold words, according to a growing number in recent months. More than lawmakers have been raising an eyebrow to their activities. Scientists too have weighed their opinions regarding what PTEKK could really be capable of introducing tomorrow. Alfred Irving, a noted skeptic of the viability of TransFlash, is equally skeptical of the powers that PTEKK could introduce. He was interviewed after the press conference via telephone.

"If they're talking about replicating photons, like they're just going to break something down into their own assembly code, whatever they use to make these Komm-Bots, and shoot that information at a particle light years away, or even across dimensions, and have it come out just the way they want it to without degradation...I just find it to be absurd. Idealistic...if you want my honest opinion, and a dangerous pursuit of it at that."

Other advocates and spokesman are weighing in on PTEKK's ability to curtail investigations into their practices with more than just intimidation or government support. Ruth Horton, Co-Chair of the Northern Chapter of Amnesty International, explained earlier by telephone interview.

"We've seen a massive rise in the amount spent on weapons, across the board...and it's true that it's to battle SOLSA and to defend earth I understand that...what I don't understand is the continued oppression, in various states where PTEKK has bolstered free enterprise and the notion of equality and democracy. I've seen Botswana, first hand, it's nowhere near as pleasant was it was before the rebellion, and it's been in turmoil since then."

Dr. William Reasoner, President of the Canadian Psychiatric Research Foundation, strongly decried the usage of what has been referred to as 'nerve stapling', a common technique now being applied by PTEKK Medical staff and with the utilization of semi autonomous surgeons.

"This is an improper technique, and one which is being used to essentially slice apart your nervous system, to prevent psychological illness. This is not, I repeat, not a technique which should be applied, by anyone in the medical community. It causes long term damage, it does not treat the ailment or abate it. It is strictly for show, it's being trumped up as a cure, and it is already having a lasting and unpredictable effect on the future."

Others have weighed in, but the government as well as the U.N., remain unresponsive as to how to handle the current dilemma; the oligarchy of what is now PTEKK International, the largest and most vested interest on our planet today. Many have already found shortfalls in the system because of mismanagement on the part of PTEKK, but are afraid to speak out. One man on the street, said that he hadn't been paid as an operator yet, but didn't want to bring it up to his supervisor.

"You know it's like...I haven't been able to get a paycheck for the past 4 weeks, I've gotta feed my kids. And...you know I got this job so I could work from home, and it beats the Army 'cause I can sit at home and shoot bad guys and still do the dishes for my wife, but...there's no SOLSA, you know? There's no bad guys so I haven't really had work to do, and PTEKK hasn't sent me my check, and I'm not the only one....And that's kinda messed up. That we gotta wait till earth or somewhere else gets attacked before we can get money for our families.

The man, who identified himself only as Jerry, said that others had the same problem with PTEKK and the middle management.

"I mean one guy, brought up that he hadn't been paid to his supervisor, and his supervisor basically told him 'I don't care.'...And so a bunch of guys quit, thinking they'd be able to do better elsewhere, but now they can't even find work, and they're blackballed, b-lined by PTEKK's management so they can't get work at a subsidiary company."

'B-Lined', is another slogan being heard these days. As the result of PTEKK's massive hiring, much of the work became over autonomous, leading to a wave of lay-offs. Many of which were due to a lack of combat duty for Komm-Bot operators. Others was simply as the result of a lack of goods to be produced, thinking the constant demand of munitions, Komm-Bots, and Kommissars would continue without hindrance. However, supplicants were less than desired by new employers, especially those who were tied with PTEKK one way or another.

"If they got work, it was because they managed to get off that list somehow, or the guy who fired him from PTEKK didn't make it stick. But a lot of these guy? They know their stuff, they can build anything or program anything, and they can't get work. Not 'cause they can't do anything, but just because PTEKK won't let em'. It's like they punish them for leaving, but keeping them from being able to work anywhere. It's like the intention means the crime to them. It's messed up."

When he was asked if he would look for work from somewhere else and quit PTEKK legitimately, Jerry laughed.

"Where else can I work? PTEKK took over earth without even needing a war or a government to do it. Besides I gotta look out for my kids. They're my passion and what else is a man but that?"

Roberta Kurtshen

Associated Press

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

29.

"Well, I think that went well, don't you Arthur?" DeMinero was beaming with pride as we walked through the front doors of our building.'

"It could have gone better I suppose." Winkler said solemnly, "I didn't get a chance to introduce the new products."

"There will be time for that later Dr. Winkler." I said as we walked through the lobby, closing in on the express elevator. Leonard was waiting there at the shaft's door, as he always was.'

"How did it go Ms. Terenstry?" he asked, nodding.'

"About as well as it could have Leonard." I sighed as we stood waiting for the descending elevator. Not entirely the most perceptive, or aware, he had charm of his own. He was also one of the few people left I could trust. Arthur Winkler was too absent minded and fragile to trust fully. DeMinero had promise, but he was a new face.'

'Dr. Winkler was growing impatient. "If only I had the opportunity to have talked about the new Panel TransFlash device. It would have really shaken up things."

'Thomas shrugged, angular in his sheen suit. "Anymore than things had already been shaken up? The Justice Department may as well have been a hornet's nest PTEKK accidentally stepped on. Besides, they came because they wanted a reaction to the verdict. Our reaction." he snickered,

"What of it there was."

"What of it indeed Mr. DeMinero?" I turned to him, with his sheepishness immediately blushing through. "Don't you feel our response was appropriate?"

'He shook his head, eyes widening. "Oh no, no Ms. Terenstry I didn't imply that. I was simply saying that there was little for them to go on, if anything at all." His ability to circumvent conflict required refinement. Make a note Diary2.0:, While I like the hiring choice by the board for the new head of PTEKK Legal, I can't help but feel Herbert Walker was far more...how can I put this, tolerable. Despite the fact that Mr. Walker was, and still is a raving lunatic fueled by whiskey, his practices were far more thorough and concise than that illustrated thus far by our new head of Legal, Thomas DeMinero.'

'He's young, cocky, with thick black hair that covers his ears. The way his suit was pressed I could tell that he had bought it the day before, arranging the press conference in advance. It was too clean, and showed no wear whatsoever. He was in the process of being groomed for a fine position as a prosecutor in Atlanta. He couldn't have been more than two years out of Yale, and he had landed the job of a lifetime over well paid civil service. But even DeMinero had skeletons to hide, like most of us, and the barrel had been growing shallow for worthy candidates. From what my file has described based upon company surveillance is he has developed quite a nasty cocaine habit, and has a propensity to be visited by, how can I say, 'contractors of the night'. He's moldable though, and looks like he can be swayed with the right level of authority, or even an issue with his poisons.'

'Make a discreet notation of the surveillance records Diary2.0, as they may come to be useful in the future should his abilities be compromised in any fashion. I'm already nervous enough as it is with covert employee affidavits to the Justice Department regarding our practices, and any ripples in irresponsibility on the part of PTEKK's staff or its executives would have grave implications.'

'Arthur Winkler, on the other hand, I knew I could count on. At least to do his job without issue or complication. He was fiddling with Rod's drawings and ideas for creating new inventions from our pre-existing products. Apparently he discovered a treasure trove, and I could trust his judgment at least, to understand that those innovations were of our company's control and design. It's science beyond my comprehension, and it's good to have someone like him to disassemble the madness of Rod's apartment. The mess and stink of the heap left in his absence was deplorable, but Dr. Winkler insisted on rummaging through the apartment himself, whether Rod Andrews was still in this dimension or not. The updated Panel, with the TransFlash built in ability was one of our newest additions, allowing the modification of a photon to be manipulated into whatever form it originally was. The changes to Diary2.0, your model, will be in a new series known as the Diary3.0, and Dr. Winkler has made some additional changes to the

'Trust however, was a word that was separate to Dr. Winkler's liking, and to my own. He has his own agenda, and could tell the same of me I think. All his pet projects with PTEKK Medical and Intergalactic rely upon company funding. Not much of it comes from the government. But, we've branched out into fields of government lobbying, specifically the United States for security purposes, to increase leverage in the future for upcoming patents. Rod may have wanted to inspire the world to create new things, but charging a penny per usage was outrageously low. Dr. Winkler understood that, and DeMinero seemed like the type to shred apart any resistance on command. I had assembled a good team for once, without pressures like Spivy or Jameston. That reminded me.'

"What have you heard so far on our friends Mr. DeMinero?" I asked while gazing up at the elevator light. It hung momentarily on 33, and began descending again, slowly.'

'He began to mouth words, his eyes following the elevator from above. "To be honest I haven't been made aware of their location since their volunteering for the experiment for Dr. Winkler." he said, gazing over. Dr. Winkler was immersed in a graph on his Panel, staring into something labeled 'Chemical Analysis.' He was always up to strange things since he rummaged through Rod's apartment.'

'He looked up at our lawyer, with his mole eyes beneath scrunched spectacles. "Sorry about that Ms. Terenstry I was, well, lost in my work again as usual." he snorted. "What was the question again?"

"Our friends Doctor. Have you seen them since they...volunteered?" DeMinero smirked. The elevator was at 24 now, hovering for some of our esteemed executives.'

'He seemed lost at first, his Panel's graphs glowing off his glasses. Then a flash of memory. "Ah our friends. Now I remember." he straightened himself, poised for delivery. "You'll be happy to know Ms. Terenstry, that the experiment itself was a complete success. Controlled TransFlash delivery to a specific sector of space."

"How specific exactly? I'll admit I'm not the scientific mind of you or Mr. Andrews but..." before I could finish, Dr. Winkler had begun to chuckle.'

"Oh no no no I'm smart." he boasted. "But I'm not Rod Andrews. His work...his genius...I can't even begin to understand his words, his writing. It's so...so baffling. I mean the work on the hoverscooter from the beginning that was genius, but look at this!" he gaped, dragging the Panel's screen wider.

"My working theory of Mr. Andrew's work, is that our dimensions can be accessed using TransFlash true. But what he did not estimate, was that his path would entail only dimensions which were corresponding to a path of orbits."

"Orbits? Like planets?" DeMinero grappled. The elevator hung again at 15. Make a note Diary2.0: Use the stairs more often.'

"Very much like planets actually" Winkler replied. "Each universe, in itself, resides in its own sector of time and space. Ours as well as you'll see here on this diagram of the Nordius Prime One's projected journey as far as we've been able to track it." he said, pointing to a small green dot with a line leading from our universe.'

"But we still can't communicate with it Doctor? With Rod?" he shook his head glumly when I asked him this. I still didn't understand much of even the basics of cross-dimensional communications.'

"Because his signal sets the beacon to which we send the Komm-Bot forces and direct the operator's signals, we cannot pinpoint it until we are directly contacted by the Nordius Prime One." he said with the Panel's glow reflecting from his glasses. "You can see here that the path being taken is actually quite straight forward. It's leading them from world to world, dimension to dimension in a straight line. It's very symmetrical actually, almost entirely improbable which..."

'His pause seemed to last minutes. Finally, Thomas broke the silence as the elevator stopped at 9.'

"Which what? God Doctor get a grip on yourself." he chuckled. "Christ you're acting like it's some, manufactured thing which was destined to happen. Like that Mayan calendar that's supposed to predict the end of the world, or astrologers, or...what was that guy's name...?" he snapped his fingers. "Help me out here, it was that guy, French guy, all about predicting the end of the world?"

"Nostradamus." I said. The elevator hung again at 7. I almost groaned I really did. I just wanted to get to my office. Make a note Diary2.0: Be sure to alter express elevator to specifically come to the lobby when called I would have imagined that was the standard in any office building.'

"Right, him. Anyway, you're sounding a lot like that guy Dr. Winkler. It's kinda spooky. Spooky's bad for business, a PR nightmare." Thomas sneered. "What's with this elevator anyway? Jesus Christ."

'Dr. Winkler seemed offended by this, and his scowl seemed to wrinkle his entire head. "Perhaps sir your talents are best suited in understanding human nature. Mine are vested in understanding the universe. A concept to which you seem withdrawn." his words fell flat upon Thomas's deaf ears, his expression locked in a grimace at the elevator's progress.'

"Look Doctor, you just do your experiments and wail on about the end of the world, and I'll be there to get you out of trouble when they find you trying to fly off a building or something with cardboard wings ok? Company policy you understand." Thomas flexed his tongue into a spear.'

'Cocky bastard. Leonard laughed briefly, quickly cleared his throat when my cold reaction froze it. I'd have fired DeMinero on the spot if it hadn't been for the press conference. He knew a PR nightmare when he saw one, and could easily use it if he felt it suited him. He had one brand new suit; one suit too many as far as I was concerned. I wasn't planning on offering him one neatly pressed and delivered on a silver platter. Bad for business anywhere.'

"If you had any knowledge regarding history Mr. DeMinero, you'd know that Nostradamus's predictions did not come true at all. In fact much of his work supported ideas and notions, simply to gain support within circles of powers past." Winkler roused, snorting. "And the Mayans? They were innovative true, but they had no knowledge of a shift in cycles that are being touted by these fanatics. Especially the Enclave of Logic. As though they had any grasp of the root concept." he sneered.'

"He's got you there." I snipped. I think I even smiled a little as Leonard's face brightened. Thomas, groomed as he was for it, continued evasion.'

"Frankly Dr. Winkler, in my short time at PTEKK already, I've found that science and business can in fact work hand in hand. There are discrepancies true, but you'll find my perspective of science differs from yours."

"Is that so?" Arthur said confidently. It wouldn't last.'

"Yes it is Doctor." DeMinero turned to him, menacingly. "You see you scientists and academics all have terms of your own. I'm familiar with many of them, as I studied alongside many at Yale." he fluffed. He was slowly encircling Arthur, nervous, hovering motionless with his Panel as Thomas orbited.'

"What many of you academics don't realize, is that words, mean nothing." he trumped, flapping his arms at his wayside. I remained staring forward, and there was a large reflective glass overhead where I could observe peripherally. Leonard peered behind me, gawking at DeMinero's new side show from his stool and podium. The elevator was hanging on 5 now and our newest lawyer kept his argument in motion.'

"They truly mean nothing Doctor. I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news. Freud suggested, at the onset of his career later in life, that, correct me if I'm wrong, 'Sometimes a cigar, is just a cigar.' Do you realize, what Freud did, in that very moment Dr. Winkler?"

'Arthur was clearly intimidated, and it showed. A man of science, but not of particulars in fields beyond technology. "No...what...what did he do?"

'Thomas's face blustered. He was effective, but clearly emotional about this. Someone had hurt him badly. "He went from being a renowned psychologist, to be a philosopher!" he boiled, rounding a full rotation around Winkler and cooling. "He essentially declared, his science, one that has been used in a calculated fashion as I've witnessed many times already as a prosecutor, to be a philosophy. A religion. One that he followed, yet proclaimed as a science for all. One that's been touted as a science, years after his death." he walked softer now, closer to the door. "Now Doctor, I have a theory myself, as to why Freud, would go so far as to strive to be right. Do you know why?"

"Where are you going with this Thomas? I think your grasp of what is a humanitarian science is rather rudimentary." I blurted, jolting him. "I hope you have a point to offending our top scientist." I knew Dr. Winkler did not like being impressed upon, especially by a new face like Thomas's. Our newest addition quickly veered off from his courtroom approach.'

"My apologies Ms. Terenstry, Doctor." he nearly bowed. "My theory, governed by my own version of deductive reasoning, as an attorney, is this: Freud, did not argue for Oedipus in favor of psychology. He was merely attempting to win an argument to gain support for his other work."

"What?" I nearly laughed. Leonard was lost, while even Arthur seemed just as confused.'

"You may laugh Ms. Terenstry as I know it's uncommon to think in terms of logic being illogical, because of it being a word, something which loses logic when used inappropriately as often as they are." he smirked coyly, continuing. "But consider this scenario." Thomas poised, almost going into a taut stance. His vigor impressed even Leonard, and all our focus was locked. "Sigmund Freud, in a bar."

"In a bar?" Leonard quipped. I smiled. I thought it was a joke at first too.'

"Yes Leonard in a bar. Now, his job, as a psychologist, is to observe. Not just his own patients, but people in general to correlate to a greater hypothesis or understanding. Scientific approach correct so far Doctor? At least keeping in mind a parallel understanding of deductive reasoning."

"Well it's more complex than that really, it involves control groups, tests, and monitoring certain things under certain conditions to produce the desired result, or to come to an understanding as to why it did not." Doctor Winkler was nearly textbook. DeMinero, kept teaching from his own.'

"So, Pubs were popular places in Europe, not just for getting a drink or a bite to eat, but to see many different people. All walks of life. Pubs, bars, and many other establishments in those regions were, and still are, some of the best places to seek information regarding almost anything. Information, like the habits of human people. What better Petri dish for that era huh Doctor?"

"What is your point Thomas?" I was growing weary of this. The elevator began its final descent as he rattled on to the court of PTEKK's lobby.He waffled in his stance but only for a moment.'

"What if he observed, classic human nature in action. What if he simply observed a fight with say, a comment that involved something along the lines of "Go fuck your mother?"

"Excuse me Mr. DeMinero?" I reeled around. The elevator was landing and the mood was cool after that remark. I didn't know what to think. He stood stern, even through my glare burning over my shoulder at him.'

"I don't mean to offend any of you. I'm simply saying, what if he observed some blue collar argument, say over some trifle. A barroom brawl isn't uncommon, and comments like the one that I mentioned are quite common. Almost expected in certain environments. Admittedly, I haven't worked on many criminal cases aside from my internship, but all of the addicts and the drunks, they're all...well common. The common man I guess you could say."

'The shaft rattled and the door finally creaked open. The cab was empty, which was strange since it had made all those stops. Diary2.0 make notation: Be sure to hire additional maintenance for the building, and perhaps some new designs for the elevators, I think we can afford it. The shaky Doctor and I boarded with our young legal wizard. Leonard who remained at his podium post, and hit the top floor button. Thomas, now encased with an audience, continued his diatribe as the lobby door shut and I wanted to groan, but knew I couldn't.'

"Now in this scenario, Freud witnesses a fight break out, after one patron, enraged by the other for some reason, suggests that they fornicate with their own mother." he said curtly. I almost wish he had just said fuck instead of being coy about it this time. "He sees them fight, and witnesses this brutal notion of human nature. This primal, angry sense of pride and the defense of it. It's something of a phenomena for him, a psychoanalyst in bloom to witness, as it connects and spans across different regions of human experience. Memories, good and bad, individual or shared, socioeconomics, trends, all these things today have roots within his notions from the past. His ideas. And I believe that they were based upon a bar fight."

'He went on as the car climbed, his trial mode had engaged. "Now at the time, Freud had some rivals, people who had pushed him around, verbally, in regards to his ideas. He originally gained his reputation working with hysteria and hypnotism, which he was trying to distance himself from because of fraud and bogus research by physicians and analysts in those fields at the time," he turned to Arthur. "Academics Doctor. Academic bullies to be precise."

"Hysteria, as in the condition itself?" Arthur was more entranced with DeMinero's oddness than he should be. He seemed to relate to being victimized by his fellows in regards to his work. There hadn't been mention of it in his file when I had looked before. PTEKK Legal was on 24, we were on 4 now. I couldn't wait to get to my office, or at least get Thomas out of the elevator and away from Arthur.'

"Now, here's where my own personal bias comes in. As a prosecutor, I have to work with investigators, which kind of makes me an investigator too. Almost like a time traveler if you want to get creative with it." chuckled and went on, with Arthur hinging now on his words. "I think that night, Freud went home, and stayed up that night, and thought about what he had seen. The fight, the brawl, the blood. All based on a guy, telling another guy, to stick it to his mother." he scoffed.'

"So, brief tangent, I remember reading in college about this quest, this idea that Freud had in the beginning of his career that all mental processes, had a physiological connection, a bridge. That our minds made their own bridges inadvertently, and that some day psychology and neurology would catch up. Catch up to the point where our own bodies could just be wired to heal and take care of themselves. That's kind of why I was so happy I got hired here Ms. Terenstry. My sister, she had a neural grafting done which saved her life."

'I had read it in his file, he had also mentioned it on his application. He continued before I could turn to react. I was pleased by this, in an uncomfortable way. I wanted to talk to Dr. Winkler alone, and his psycho-jargon may work in our favor, but I'd rather not hear it unless the company is in jeopardy. He makes me uncomfortable even now. Good help is so hard to find, even when over a quarter of the planet is your workforce. Floor 6 with 18 to go.'

"Anyway, I think, my own theory mind you, that night Freud had a dream. He may have began the dream in the same seat he was in before, or could have moved up, or started the dream sitting at the bar itself. Either way, he's back in the pub. Now instead of the other patrons, there's only the bartender, and some of the harshest critics of his early work. People who mocked him for his affiliation to hypnotism and his early beginnings, they were all there. Mocking him, teasing him, tearing him up like the one patron had." he bantered. Floor 7 clicked and passed.'

"Now, what happened to the other patron who responded to the conflict? What did he say, and how did it involve the man's mother? Well, the answers to those questions resulted in the chain reaction that Freud witnessed. A physiological reaction, the one he was looking for. But in a dream, not even in reality. Freud's reaction to this in the dream state is uncertain. He could have lashed out, or just have been shocked at all that was happening. But in my opinion, opinion mind you, Freud found the connection he was looking for. The bridge he was trying to build." he paused. "But something unexpected happened."

"What? What happened?" Arthur's absent-mindedness had the best of him again. Even I was becoming intrigued.'

"The reality of the dream, came true. Something happened, either in the bar itself, or in another setting, where he was confronted by the same critics. Those same people in his dream that he had seen coax him into conflict much like the man he'd witnessed been beaten. But something happened. Something within Freud, compelled him to think and act differently. In addition, he included the jibe which had made the other man come to blows. And did so respectfully."

'I found myself chuckling as the floor hit 9. He had promise for a litigator, and could charm the spots off a leopard and convince it that it was a lion. All before happy hour I'd imagine, but he'd expect you to pick up the tab, as most lawyers naturally do. "Hence the focus on Oedipus is what you're implying?"

'He laughed, ending in a nervous tinge. "Exactly Ms. Terenstry. Freud, remembering the conflict and seeing it in a dream, compelled him when faced with the same circumstance in reality, to do the exact opposite. Imply the man would defile his own mother, but did so politely and by using reasoning and his own research to do it." I think he was impressed that I had made the connection, but subtly feared some notion of reprisal for it. Still, he had a point.'

"So what you're saying is that Freud's achievements were based around him attempting to win an argument, utilizing a slur designed to enrage his detractors?" Dr. Winkler's tone had grown firmer, and even Thomas became slightly stand-offish in the small elevator car. I guess even scientists don't like to see their fellows get abused, by a lawyer of all things at that. Floor 10 finally clicked.'

"Well not all of his achievements certainly not." DeMinero muttered. "But the selling point of his entire, philosophy, the Oedipus Complex, was designed originally as a way to insult critics, and interest people in a science that was rooted in sex." he chuckled. "I'll admit I'm not in marketing, but sex sells, in any century. I've seen sex win cases, not through bribery, but simply because of the circumstance which it altered the perception of evidence. If you can sell a philosophy about sex, and turn it into a science that can make a profit, that's the kind of business that's what's referred to as 'turn key."

"Turn-key?" Arthur's face scrunched, attempting to grasp Thomas's vocabulary.'

"He means that it's a start-up business with an easy product to sell." I said, with 12 blinking on. "Thomas is attempting to persuade us that Freud wanted to create a business model to exploit psychology, rather than accept his ideas being incomplete, and attempt to understand the human condition as a whole." 13 was right on the horizon.'

'Thomas waffled, changing into lower defensive gear. "Well not necessarily a business model if you want to call it that." he wrigged as 14 blipped. PTEKK's next project should include TranFlash elevators to avoid things like this. Make a notation: Put Arthur on it, I don't know why I didn't consider it sooner.'

"So what do you mean then? A religion, like you said before?" Winkler was growing far too curious over DeMinero's words than I liked. Wherever Thomas's bitterness lie, it was a festering mentality, one I didn't want to turn into an office contagion.'

"Not a religion. It was something that he was afraid of doing." he began as 15 lit up.'

"Well, as a psychologist at the time, I'm sure he didn't want to create something that was counter to the forces at the time. Forces like indoctrinated religions." Winker countered.'

'Thomas sighed as he gazed up at 16. "Well yes and no, at least from what I've read. I personally think he did use it in a confrontation, at least to throw any critics off his case. I mean, what better method to make your point, than using a stern argument based upon an insult to support your work? Without the violence of course."

"Of course." I affirmed. Floor 16 and more to go. Our lawyer continued his assessment.'

"How could anyone, an academic mind you, resort to violence? Especially in an argument? It's hardly the type of thing anyone could endure, or out live. It would taint any achievement they'd make, based upon the fact they resorted to brawl to win a scientific argument."

"Interesting..." Winkler pondered. The light for 17 lit up, I couldn't wait to get DeMinero out of this elevator. It was necessary to hinder Thomas's effect on Arthur. I didn't need the only mind I had left being led along a path of dejection drawn poorly by the likes of him.'

"Dr. Winkler, surely you understand that logic and reasoning are best used when being objective, not cruel. I beg to differ Thomas, but in my eyes there's no difference in utilizing such tools and an actual weapon to win an argument. One tends to lead to the other anyway." 18 clicked on.'

"With all due respect Ms. Terenstry, how do you mean?"

'I took a breath "A rational argument with words can still lead to violence. Likewise, violence tends to lead to rational arguments to ascertain their logic and reasoning, with words, something you yourself said tend to be illogical." 19 clicked on.'

"That still doesn't explain things ma'am." he was getting tense, and I could see in the reflection Arthur's gaze widen as he stood in the cab's corner. Both could tell that my point, like Freud's, was in the process of formulation.'

"When you say that Freud had a dream, based upon this scenario you described, I do see merit Thomas I can't deny. And you are correct that Freud was a student of hypnosis and hysteria, and his mentor in those fields, a man named Jean-Martin Charcot, who was one of those who was discredited for his work." Both their gazes transfixed upon my back, as their reflections showed when the light struck 20. I went on as both stood silent.'

"Freud's work was a continuation of Charcot's. That to understand the connections to the hemispheres of the brain, and allow these connections to bridge the gaps of human capacity and understanding. Having such a dream, and being the person he was, I hardly believe that he would have lashed out, dream or not, in even a potentially violent sense. Words or brawn."

'21's light glowed and DeMinero was unsatisfied. "What about the argument in real life? And the popularity thereafter? I mean it's still just a hypothetical but still."

"I'm getting to that Thomas." I started, "Suppose that actually did happen, and Freud truly did win an argument over his critics and did so with the help of a dream? What then?" I asked, as 22 clicked on.'

"I-I don't follow Ms. Terenstry." Thomas's voice seemed to quake.'

"Freud simply used something which came naturally to him. Something that we use in our work, or yours Thomas, or you Doctor, in yours. His unconscious delivered his answer, much as we all gain answers inadvertently in reality."

"Well yes, of course his unconscious delivered the answer. But that didn't give him the right to exploit it in his favor." Thomas's voice wavered again as the light hit 23. One floor to go.'

"Doesn't it?" I said sternly. Arthur cleared his throat as I continued. "It's no different than being given a sum of money, or a gift, or a talent. It's one you use for your own gain, or share with the world. Take our own Rod Andrews for example, blooming in a season of his own." my voice wandered as the elevator hit 24, PTEKK Legal. The metal doors slid open with a buzz, as Thomas passed me, turning to stand in the doorway.'

"Frankly Ms. Terenstry, and with all due respect, again, do you truly believe that Freud was doing it for the better of all people? Exploiting the ideas of others while twisting a philosophy into science?" his back was to the glass doors of PTEKK Legal, and the hallway within it was bare of life.'

"Thomas, as I mentioned before, it was a philosophy of his, true. But he based it upon a method of deductive reasoning, applying it to his own life as a control, no matter how impartial. If he didn't do it in such a way, then others did. That's their mistake and not Freud's. They're the ones who exploited his philosophy into a business model for their own gain. Your grievance is with them, not with the man who thought of the idea." I said softly. I could almost feel Arthur brighten behind me.'

"But...but surely you can agree that Freud knew of the implications of what he was doing. What would become of his work and how it would be used against itself." the door almost closed on Thomas but it clicked open again, He stood idle, awaiting my reply.'

"Thomas, how can anyone know what one person will do with an idea? That's what makes people so unique. That's why for example, Mr. Andrews allowing open patents of PTEKK's initial products. Look at what has happened as a result there?" I felt this would be a good example. Thomas didn't.'

"Ms. Terenstry, from my brief tenure here, PTEKK has already encountered many problems it may as well have created." the door began to close again and DeMinero wedged his loafer into the door's track, grinding it to a stop. I was glad I hired him; any good lawyer is a persistent one. "It's resulted in an increased crime rate due to inflated currency from selling employees, most of earth, their own products. Counterfeit goods has resulting in a substantial loss for the company. Kelvarys for example are becoming the highest stolen vehicle and are being reverse engineered down to the smallest bolt by our competitors."

'He seemed cautious. "We control the patents to the smallest level Thomas. Even its construction is reliant upon the power source created by Rod Andrews, and patented by PTEKK. The Electron Cell has become more popular and necessary on earth than the light bulb." Arthur had finally begun to bloom again.'

'Thomas stood firm as the door whirred helplessly. "The reliance upon the Electron Cell is a selling point, and a strong one ma'am." he said gazing behind him to ensure that nobody had passed. It was still vacant in the opening halls of PTEKK Legal, even the receptionist was gone. "But I can't keep the Justice Department at bay any longer regarding its construction process, especially after they get wind of what happened." he dashed as Arthur stepped closer behind me towards the door.'

"You said that was of no concern of ours!" Winkler bolted back. The two were squaring off, and I had missed something.'

"What exactly is the problem gentlemen?" I asked, turning to face the both of them. I nearly slumped when I saw both Arthur and Thomas's gaze fall to the ground. This couldn't be good.'

"One of the low altitude Kommissar-B's carrying a shipment of Electron Cells crashed off the coast of Bermuda last night." Thomas didn't even raise his face from the floor.'

"What? How did this happen? The crew?"

'Thomas shrugged. "Both presumed lost."

"Both? What about the navigator? Or the autopilot systems?"

'DeMinero waffled, gazing to his right at Arthur. The Doctor cleared his throat, "Well ma'am I was hoping that this wouldn't have become an issue but-"

"Arthur," I sighed to his now frozen eyes. "What did you do?" The dormant nurturing in me must have awakened a deeper humility, and he breathed a deeply.'

"I was hoping that this wouldn't become an issue Ms. Terenstry, but... I...I went ahead and tested the new guidance direction systems before the final debugging."

'I pictured myself fainting, as not to do it. "Arthur...why didn't you listen to me? I gave you explicit instructions not to field test new products without my expressed permission." I didn't raise my voice. I felt like shouting and screaming at him. It was the worst possible time for any deviation. This was unlike him, absent-minded as he was.'

"But...Ms. Terenstry you must understand that I-"

"Arthur," my eyes clenched tightly, "I gave you specific instructions for a reason. Our hands are to the fire, and some of these charges are serious enough that my leverage alone cannot quash them." my eyes opening slowly to two shaken men. I was as blunt as I could be, as the situation had quickly fallen out of our favor, only regained just minutes ago.'

"We had finally managed to settle with the family of Rafael de Flavio out of court less than a week ago. Before your arrival Thomas, the civil suit against the company on behalf of the other racers' families had raised doubts of our conduct with the governments of Brazil, and ours. The South African Police Service has closed their investigation into the missing survey team under protest from its own investigators. And to top it off, we're facing multiple lawsuits, most frivolous in nature, for many of our pre-existing products, Kelvarys and CityBots specifically. Consumer organizations gaining as much leverage as a government. At least that's what I gathered from the information this morning, correct Mr. DeMinero?"

'He nodded grudgingly, eyes locked at the corner of the elevator. Arthur was stone-faced and silent as I went on. "What you two don't know is what I read in my personal mail this morning before the press conference. I had two letters, one from a friend at the SEC, and another working closely within the CIA. I've been informed by both that there is little that can be done to divert future investigations into PTEKK's activities. The feeling among many within both their circles is that we've monopolized the future. That we've squelched innovation and subtly taken over the world."

"That's not true! Why don't they-" Arthur waned.'

"While the president is still a close friend of mine, and the fact that he was able to serve an additional term without problem or issue from the public or the government was timed in our favor gentlemen. His predecessor, the vice president, is finally gaining the leeway he needs to force the resignation of the President based on medical grounds." I looked at Arthur, who gazed down. "It has nothing to do with your work Doctor, or the work of PTEKK Medical. Ron's...Mr. Reagan's neural grafting is going well based upon what I saw this morning. But you'll understand if I have to be as curt as I can. Not even the board is aware of my affiliations to these respective agencies, and The House Ethics Committee is still considering reopening the case, regardless of the verdict today." I couldn't help but stare him down. "Dr. Winkler, I thought we had agreed not to do anything before the verdict and the investigation had blown over?"

'He couldn't even formulate a response. Finally, he stammered, "I...I just wanted to make sure it worked. I should have been personally monitoring it..."

"Why weren't you?" I felt my anger rising. He'd been the wayward scientist, lauded and discarded from MIT, Boeing, companies that couldn't mold him, and tossed him for it. I'd heard rumors they'd tried to coax him back, and surveillance indicates that he'd been followed between his home in Long Island, PTEKK HQ, and the former headquarters; Rod Andrew's apartment.'

"I was there again...I'm sorry I told you I wouldn't...I knew that I had to go back. To find out more."

"But why? Arthur this is intolerable, even for someone as loyal as you!" I shouted. All three of us immediately gazed through the glass doors; still vacant. Arthur continued to waver.'

"I...can't explain it. It wouldn't even make sense to you it was just..."

'I couldn't believe what I was hearing from him. The most his file had suggested when he'd been hired was intensely introverted. Not anything related to disobeying orders or erratic behavior. Something had made him change, but that wasn't important at the moment.'

"Never mind that for now Doctor. What about the shipment of Cells? Were we able to recover them?"

'He was still shaken, stumbling over his own words. "The emergency team sent didn't find wreckage. It circled its last known location for over 4 hours and found no trace aside from the station log." he swallowed."

"How could this have happened? Why did it happen even if could Arthur?" I didn't want to rattle him further, not yet anyway. He flummoxed while Thomas's loafer withstood the door's abuse.'

"The last indication showed that the TransFlash module was activated aboard the transport." he trembled. "It showed that the craft itself disappeared from radar and communications. We have no way of tracking the Kommissar-B because of it. It was shipment 14.45-J, bound on return vector to PTEKK Tallahassee from Capetown.""

"But what caused it?" even Thomas wanted answers. "Come on Doctor I need specifics to prevent this from getting out. I didn't want to press you on it until later but if it's this bad I need to know. What did it look like? Were there witnesses? How many people expected it to arrive at Tallahassee?"

'Arthur shook his head. "No...nobody saw it happen. It was fully automated in terms of logistics and scheduling, just the logs and the data. Not a soul knew they went..." Thomas seemed content even with the loss of life.'

"Alright...I can make up something at least to their families about them being lost at sea." he muttered, wincing. "At least until we can figure out where it is and what happened to it."

'Arthur's face looked pale in comparison. He was drained of thought, numb it seemed. "Where did it crash Arthur?" I asked him. He didn't reply.'

"Dr. Winkler where did it crash? Answer me!" I'd had enough. This was the worst possible time for anything to go wrong and I couldn't even get a straight answer from my best mind available. He was lost now, in a trance beyond the sound of my voice.'

'I turned away from Arthur, I couldn't even look at him. "Thomas?"

"The logs show that it came down over 1500 miles north of Puerto Rico."

"Was it off course? What did the logs show?" Dr. Winkler was still in a daze as Thomas told me what we knew.'

"From what the logs showed, the computer autopilot became halfway across the Atlantic on its journey." Thomas's leg was still locked against the elevator door. I pressed the hold button on the elevator's Panel, and he eased off its track.'

"Thanks...The Kommissar-B in question 14.45-J was transporting spent Industrial Electron Cells back from our two facilities in Capetown."

"How many Electron Cells were aboard?" I knew this wouldn't be good. Thomas was at least coherent as Arthur's glazed eyes projected elsewhere.'

"14.45-J was carrying 10 spent Industrial Electron Cells." Thomas muttered. "Which is not only as unstable as the live Electron Cells, but more than likely have fractures in their outer casings. We could be looking at an ecological event here Ms. Terenstry. Some kind of particulate waste from the used Cells. I wanted to keep it from you until the Doctor here had more specifics."

'I turned to Arthur, still slumped and shaken. "Do you?"

"I..."

"Please Doctor we don't have much time." Thomas began before stopping briefly. All our eyes met a silhouette pass across through the glass doors, remaining in motion. He turned back to the two of us, still locked in conflict within the elevator cab. "If what Ms. Terenstry said was true, regarding her contacts within the government telling us to watch ourselves, this is hardly the type of attention we need at the moment. Just tell her what you told me Doctor."

'I was surprised. Normally I'd been lucky to get so much as a reply from the Doctor from a phone call. I guess Thomas's charm served more purposes than in the courtroom, or a brothel. Winkler cleared his throat, and turned to me with a firm face.'

"The spent Electron Cells in question...have a signature remaining within the module itself, which was a byproduct of the manipulation of photons and particle matter." he rattled, shaking still.

"Their construction is designed to allow them to broken down and carried carefully back and forth between power stations and disposal facilities at Oak Ridge Nuclear Facility. They are recycled and rendered into carbon materials for other PTEKK products."

"I know all that Dr. Winkler." I began, "What I'm confused about is what could have caused the TransFlash reaction, and why did it happen? Moreover, what does it have to do with the products that we're making Doctor?"

'His expression grew tenser, and through his eyes, he had been hiding something all this time.

"What is it Arthur? What's going on?"

'He suddenly broke down, almost wailing inside the elevator cabin. Thomas was wide-eyed, and looked behind to PTEKK Legal to see if we had yet to gain notice. Arthur was stooped over, choking back deep and resonant tears as he attempted to explain why he was so upset.'

"The neutrinos..."

"Neutrinos?" it had been years since I'd heard the term. "Sub-atomic particles? What about them? How does this connect to the accident and the products?"

'He paused, breathing in deeply as he rose, wiping his eyes under his glasses. "I didn't think that it would be a problem. I thought they were simply another particle, nothing to be concerned with."

"What do you mean? What's gone wrong?" I was doing my best to wrap my head around Arthur's mind, but he was so disturbed and distraught.'

"TransFlash, it causes changes within photonic transit, allowing a craft, or with the new designs, new creations to be created from random photons. But what it does...it leaves a residue behind, something from the Electron Cells, or the reaction to it I don't know! I just don't!" he raved. "It leaves this, this substance, that changes the neutrinos. Alters them in some way. For every usage of TransFlash."

"What does that mean Doctor? Do you mean every time TransFlash is used, all the neutrinos surrounding an object get changed? Why is that significant?" Thomas prodded Arthur further, and my patience with our chief scientist had already reached a razor's edge. I tried to coax him to calmness.'

"Arthur, look at me." he did, through his watery eyes. "What does this mean? Why is this so terrible?"

'He wiped his soggy nose with his white coat's sleeve. "I'm fairly certain...that when TransFlash is used, and replicated from photon to photon, with every variance within, it leaves behind a trace substance...some kind of residue, impacted upon and within the neutrinos themselves...I never took it into consideration before...what the subatomic changes would be. It seemed like the Electron Cells had a proper catalytic function and thus wouldn't change...how could I be so wrong?" he stared off again. Thomas had lost patience, stepping back into the elevator and began shaking Arthur.'

"You listen to me Doctor, I don't have time for your addled mind, whatever its curse. I need to know what I'm dealing with so I can issue a press release to compensate for whatever you've caused!"

"Thomas, this isn't helping." my firmness made DeMinero back off, and he still remained in the elevator. The calm we had experienced was overcome by visitors; leery PTEKK Legal employees peering around the walls of the glass doorway, eyes upon us. "Let me talk to him further in my office, we'll let you to do your work."

"Ms. Terenstry with all due respect again, I'd-"

"Mr. DeMinero I'll send you whatever details Dr. Winkler has to tell me. He seems like he needs to rest." I said. Arthur nodded slightly, hanging his head.'

"I don't think you appreciate the gravity of what's happening Ms. Terenstry." Thomas gritted, "But I've already gotten suits in complaint to the newest CityBot models. Apparently the circuitry changes aren't effective for insulating the current. In addition, I've already gotten a memo on my desk which was a direct yet polite call from a little organization known as the EPA. We have Electrostatic weather in certain regions of earth's climates over areas that it had never occurred which have been calculated and noticed by private concerns lobbying with the government."

'This was something I didn't need. None of this was. "Mr. DeMinero, I want you to take care of creating the template for the press release and have it sent it to my office. I'll be there shortly, I need to talk to Dr. Winkler alone."

"Ms. Terenstry I have to talk to-"

"Mr. DeMinero!" I barked, with the staff in the office leering back, "I'm taking Dr. Winkler to my office to discuss another urgent matter which he had brought to my attention previously. Please bring the template to my office yourself if you'd like, or send someone else!" I was being too stern, as I found even Thomas wavering. "I'm sorry for being so curt Thomas..." I began, "But I need you all to be as subtle as you can. We can't afford to let anyone know, especially the employees or the shareholders. I've already been warned about the potential breach, and with the investigation quashed, the Justice Department will be trying harder than ever to put us to the flame. I need both of you to remain as calm as possible. Arthur?"

'I looked at him, and put my hand his buckling shoulder. "Arthur please relax, we'll talk more about this in a moment." I turned back to Thomas, whose stern look had softened. "Get on it Thomas. You may be new here, but I'm counting on you now more than ever. Get that template made and get to my office when you do."

'It seemed like I had gotten through to our brazen lawyer, and he blinked a few times before turning silently for the door. As he neared the entrance to PTEKK Legal and I had righted Dr. Winkler, I felt it necessary to put Thomas's mind at ease.'

"Thomas!" I called to him as he opened the glass door. He turned to me with the door half open, the receptionist herself looking up.'

"Remember, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." I smirked. He frowned as I pressed the wall's Panel, and the elevator doors slid closed.'

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'The initial impact from the blast took us all off guard. I was still seated on the day-glo sofa, as Zulus and cavemen toppled past me to the floor. The green screen wall fuzzed and chattered, and distant sirens could be heard through the pressure doors down the hall. Doctor Bandever still had the Panel in his hands as pulled himself up on the couch's spine.'

"We must attack!" 662 shouted with Zulus cheering, then stumbled, "Can we even attack them?"

"No!" Doctor Bandever belted over the blaring noise, tapping the Panel's illuminated plane. "Let's get these alarms turned off and the screen active." he said, and with a flick of his finger the wall ceased hissing, the room quieted, and a crackled image of 859's planet appeared on the wall in front of us, with a shadow looming overhead.'

"The cameras on the starboard side of the ship have been damaged from their fire and the Panel can't toggle them. Let me try the ones above." he said, and tapped the Panel twice more. The screen showed a large mass, a ship that I had first seen what seemed like eons ago. A ship I'd come to know, as the Nordius Prime II.'

"What is it?" 662 stammered with his eyes widening. Why does it resemble like our ship?" He and the Zulus were fixed on the screen as cavemen slowly closed in on the refrigerator, taking advantage of the confusion. "What's going on here?" he bellowed glaring at the Doctor and I. Another flash came from the ship, which was tracked on the wall screen.'

"Hang on!" the Doctor cried. The second blast was worse than the first, as the ship seemed to howl from the impact, echoing through the ship. The room began to tilt, and we soon found ourselves fighting gravity and sliding towards the left.'

"How do we fight back? Why are you not returning fire?" 662 was crawling back across the vaulting floor back towards the kitchen. 859 had fully slid against the left wall with his cave friends and Zulus .'

"I have to regain control! One moment gentlemen!" he fought upwards to the middle of the slanting room, running a hand quickly over his glowing Panel. The deck swiveled quickly, and righted itself. Aside from the Doctor, myself and 662, all the others were slumped against the port wall of the room. "We do not possess weapons of any kind!"

'He arched himself upward, as the view on the green screen quickly changed from orbital to spatial. The others stood as we rocketed away as quickly as we could, with the Nordius Prime II lingering behind us. Doctor Bandever stood up and leaned forward against the couch. We were quickly reaching the upper end of the solar system, traveling outwards at nearly a vertical vector.'

"If we cannot fight them, perhaps we can elude them until we gain the upper hand." 662 grunted from the other side of the couch, as he gripped its back tightly.'

"Precisely!" Doctor Bandever's tapped his Panel twice with his index, and once with his middle. I began to feel the familiar strange charge, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end; TransFlash was being activated. Before I knew it, we were being sucked through a bolt of lightening, surrounded by a static blue tunnel. The Nordius Prime II entered behind us, the two of our ships locked in a static dimensional tunnel.'

"Doctor I-" I tried to find the words but was battered back by my eardrum's ring. 'Rod, please do not mention the event, which I know we will see shortly.' it hummed. I should have said something sooner about what was happening, and refuse to be curtailed by Doctor Bandever. Still, perhaps he had his reasons, as I felt RhadNe's skeptical gaze, in the glow of the screen wall illuminating each corner of the main deck.'

"Eye'dun fiyal tew gewd." 859 began to cringe, and the other cavemen, whether through mimicry or not, began feeling sick as well.'

"Muh 'ghut!" Stert crooned, with Blarne clutching his stomach, groaning. Aside from the Zulus and RhadNhe, Dern was the only one unaffected. His eyes were locked onto the green wall, and a rippled grin had crept across his face in the chaos.'

"Thesus wai'mur fhun dan bak'ohme!" he laughed, turning to us and back again. "Phaw! Bhum!" he puffed, imitating the explosions. The others held onto the couch, buffering the occasional jolt from the static surrounding us.. It had been bolted onto the floor, and I hadn't moved an inch, gripping the cushions nearly apart. I watched on the screen wall, as Nordius Prime crossed through a threshold, a blue tunnel of static energy that I had seen once before.'

"It did not last this long before Doctor, is there something wrong?" 662's voice crackled through the computer. It seemed like the attack we had sustained from the other ship had damaged the translator, and the voices of our shipmates soon became indecipherable gibberish. Focused on the wall screen and the Panel, the Doctor seemed to grit and stifle a reply. Only I could understand him and his language now, as he guided the ship to a black dot that lay far ahead.'

"We're coming to the end! We're almost out of the transit!" he seemed pleased as the screen glowed across the room. The shudder and vibration of the Main Deck was worse than before. "It was never this bad before! The ship must be damaged more than we know!" I shouted.'

'He didn't pay attention, facing forward with his Panel glowing in front of him. Declaring the damage to our ship must have seemed obliviously arrogant. I was trying to get his attention, when suddenly I didn't have to. 'There's no need to yell, I can hear you perfectly.' my ear hummed. I didn't want to scratch or touch my ear, so RhadNhe would notice. 'There's no need to involve the others in our discussion. Any damage to the translator means that they cannot understand us.'

'I attempted to concentrate the best I could, my thoughts becoming spelled sentences in my mind.

'It's true that we can talk if we cannot be understood.' he replied through my shaky eardrums. 'But, you and I both know that 662 is aware we're keeping secrets, and talking in front of him and the others when they cannot grasp our speech, would look worse than not speaking at all.'

'He was right. Our Zulu prophet had become suspicious of the two of us, especially the Doctor. He had been reluctant to give RhadNhe any information on the attack on his planet, the ships and our technology, or even anything about SOLSA and its contagion. Though primitive by our standards, their instincts had evolved beyond ours, and were aware of something amiss. Thinking about it at the time Diary3.0, made me start looking the cavemen and the Zulus up and down.'

'Two of the Zulu warriors looked sick, while Stert still seemed as green as he had when we first left orbit. This could have all been from TransFlash, but my brief thought spurred the Doctor's voice in my ear. 'They are in the process of changing. They will soon be like the others. The fact that their infection has remained dormant for this long is a variable in our favor.' I couldn't help but feel safe at the time, though I shouldn't have.'

'What was once a dot in the horizon had quickly grown into a large circular rip on the horizon. Strobes and veins of static energy constricted its borders into shape. Our ship shuddered as we neared, and the room began to hum at a pitch that permeated the battered acoustic shield. It was pitch black on the other side as we rapidly approached, but hints of light, stars showing from the other side, sparked hope within all of us.'

"Ny'ik, mui'ht taars!" RhadNhe pointed at the wallscreen, quickly realizing his Panel had been affected. I had noticed him gazing at his inoperative Panel corner. The Doctor, still closer to me than the others, seemed to emit a quick gasp, and my eardrum rang once more. 'His Panel has deactivated his personal shield. We don't have much time.' As my ear rung this, the edges of the circular rip became larger, and we had finally broached the ridge of the exit; freedom, with SOLSA and the Nordius Prime II nipping at our heels. We reached the end of the transit, and were flushed into starry space.'

"We're out!" Doctor Bandever was jubilant, and even if the computer couldn't translate, the feeling among the others was mutual. The Zulus and RhadNhe were cheering defiantly, as the grunting of the cavemen and our 859 eventually drown them out. In the past TransFlash transits, the feeling had been nauseating, and tiresome, but had never felt so dire, so grim. For the moment we had all forgotten that we were being pursued, as the shadow of the our pursuer began to crawl across the remaining outer cameras.'

"Warrb warb wub whaarbrab?" Blarne screamed in cave jibberish. The tense drawls of the others was just as chaotic. Doctor Bandever gritted his teeth as the green screen's fuzzy image lit up, and flashed ominously.'

"Damn this computer! Something is fried somewhere around here!" he bellowed, turning about senselessly. Our ship careened steadily through open space, in the shadow of our monolithic double, as clusters and galaxies hung scattered and listless around us. Doctor Bandever still reined control through his personal Panel, and I turned to see him still gazing about the Main Deck, and around the kitchen nook. He flipped his silver wristband, and as it emitted a separate blue glow, the room and ship began to quake.'

"G'lhak! Ka'mit'iya!" 662 indecipherable, pointed again, as a large impact buckled the port side, knocking our steady alignment back into skew. The others toppled again and the pitch of our ship changed dramatically. I didn't realize it until I blinked again at just what RhadNhe was pointing at. His finger rested on a small signal on the fuzzy screen.'

"Ka'mit'ya lo? Whazz be'nie na'tat?" his gaze furrowed as he and I saw the same craft. It was a Kommissar 5000, flying slowing on our port as we approached. The ship from my world. My ship.'

"Doctor? Doctor Bandever! I think you should see this!" I was as audible as I could be over the drone, as the shadow above crept across the screen completely. Zulus and the cavemen all howled in fear as the Nordius Prime II became visible overhead, its mass extending above our starboard side. Everything was happening like it had before Diary3.0. The shuddering became inaudible as I turned over the sofa's back to see what he was doing. I couldn't see his face, but my eardrum hummed back a reply. 'Rod please, I have to find the juncture in the electron's chain that is out of alignment! I understand that SOLSA is attacking but-'

'Another series of wails from our shipmates and the screen wall came before a crippling explosion. The ship was more turbulent than before, as the tilt and shudder of the Main Deck left even the bolted sofa jostling out of its threads. Doctor Bandever quickly appeared overhead behind the sofa, Panel glowing and in hand.'

"What is...what is that?" he gaped. Even as Nordius Prime and SOLSA drew closer firing, he couldn't escape the Kommissar, me of the past, on the horizon before us. "It's not possible...How is this possible?" he raved, gripping at his jungle of hair, as our fellow Rodd-iites and their followers looked on, griping in incomprehensible horror.'

"Whazz b'nie na'tyat n'bata?" 662 glared at the Doctor. His Zulu warriors calmed, and stood fast behind him, as 859 remained standing in the corner, his own cave friends close in orbit. "Whazz'lo m'yata mah? I'no mat di'yo nyu'bhat'a?" RhadNhe's words were lost on all but his own people, but they sparked something within them. They chanted, and rapped their shields behind him, clamoring an anthem of another world, that sang of battle and of glory.'

"'Ni'Yo, Pah'tahna!" 662 crooned, unclasping his shield from his back and raising his spear to the ceiling.'

"Bho'napa! Bho'napa!" the others behind him, tapped their shields.'

"Eh'Yo Pah'na'bree'tah!"

"Eh'na'yo! Eh'na'yo!" his warriors stomped the floor.'

"What are they saying?" I asked the Doctor. His face was locked forward on the wall screen, guiding the Nordius Prime and wincing in thought. I turned to RhadNhe, whose focus had turned from the screen, to standing before his warriors, all of them raising their spears to the ceiling.'

"Ni'Yo Thuum'nu'ba!"

"Eh'Yo Bhan! Eh'Yo Bhan!"

"Enough! Be quiet all of you!" Doctor Bandever's voice ripped through their chorus, as even Cave-Rod was jolted aback with his hairy friends.'

"What are they firing? What are those?" I didn't know what was causing all the damage to our ship, and Doctor Bandever seemed tense in the confusion, and didn't use my ear device to chide me.'

"Rod, those are seismic charges! They're just another product you never knew PTEKK made!" he bellowed back as we veered to starboard. The Kommissar stayed off to port, as the SOLSA ship loomed over us. It was in this moment Diary 3.0, that I remembered more what had happened all that time ago in a flash. My flying. What I saw. The packet.'

"Doctor! Doctor Bandever!" I shouted over the Zulus' chants.'

"Rod! Not now! I have to activate TransFlash so we can escape!"

'Another explosion shuddered against the ship's top. "Why don't you just shoot seismic charges at the other ship? Fire at the other Nordius Prime?"

"Ni'yat nah! Boo n'ho tan'iba!" RhadNhe howled. The Doctor was juggling concentration.'

"Rod, you told me before about what happened, but this ship does not have weapons to fire!" he yelled back to me, briefly gazing up angrily from his Panel. He was wrong. I knew that from what I had seen, our ship, the one under attack, had fired back. "One moment! I've managed to activate transit once more! Prepare yourselves gentlemen!"

'The space before us began to crackle and ripple, much like it had before. A circular border began to emerge; an electrified hoop in space. The Nordius Prime II was directly overhead and caught in the same wake. The Kommissar 5000 was still off to our port. If that truly was me in that Kommissar, the me from the past, then we'd have to be capable of firing back at the other ship. I saw it before, it wouldn't make sense not to. All three ships had entered the transit by the time I finally mustered the gumption to press the Doctor further.'

"Doctor please! You have to fire upon the other ship! Like it happened before when I saw all this!" I pleaded with him, and he simply shook his head in the glow of the transit tunnel from the wall screen.'

"Rod! I designed this ship! I watched as they built it! I would have known if they had...if..." he was jabbering 'if' repeatedly, and he dug into his white coat pocket with his free hand, revealing the yellow tattered newspaper he had held onto for so long.'

"H'yan'eh nu'bhata! Ni'yat tim'ah bhan!" RhadNhe pointed angrily at the Doctor's hand. RhadNhe was just as mystified as me, but without the capacity to ask.'

"My...my god..." Doctor Bandever's face lurched into a deep pale hue with his eyes swapping between his Panel and the clipping. He lost his balance amidst a seismic shudder to Nordius Prime's outer shell, face planting behind the couch, out of my sight. The others nearly lost their balance again, but they were becoming adjusted to the sporadic bursts.'

"Doctor Bandever? What is it?" I felt clueless, and it's because I was. I didn't know what to do if we didn't have the weapons. I had seen this event happen before, with us returning fire, even if he didn't believe me. The main deck, the sofa, and all of the kitchen nook were rattling from the transit's shudder, and the others and I were looking onward to the screen, until I turned around to see what had happened to our pilot.'

'I saw one hand emerge from behind the sofa, with the newspaper page between its fingers, clinging and writhing the Doctor up behind it. Righting himself, he gritted his teeth and tapped at the Panel. The screen wall hummed normally as it had, and ceased its violent crackling, showing the blue tunnel of transit and the spidery electrical veins lining it. A small cube in its lower right border flashed repeatedly, and the Doctor's smile curled deviously in the glowing light.'

"Rod, I stand corrected. We can return fire!" he gleamed, pressing his thumb sideways into the Panel. The ship made a shearing noise, echoing all around us, followed by a series of whirrs from the port side. There was a sudden shock, something launched from astern, bouncing us off course before our vessel righted. The impact from the launch of the seismic charge was significant to us, and utter detrimental to our pursuer. Just as I had seen before Diary3.0.'

'The others hesitated, as the wall screen changed to a hue of green, then clamored unanimously; cheering in any dialect. Each of them laughed as the SOLSA ship veered, then began to sink behind us. It toppled back uncontrolled into the transit, still teeming with electrical spasms. The Kommissar 5000 carrying myself from the past, hung with us closely as both ships sheared through the electric tunnel.'

"I can't believe it worked!" Doctor Bandever's laughs and shouts were encouraging. The main deck was noisier than it had been during the attacks, as even the Zulus and cavemen seemed enthralled to be alive. It made me feel better too.'

"See? I told you there were weapons aboard. I saw them fire the first time around." I almost felt it necessary to pat myself on the back, while 662, jabbering in Zulu tongue seemed even more irate at the two of us.'

"Ni'yat hanna!" RhadNhe pointed at us. "H'yan'eh bot'haba! Bho'yat ma ni'yato mhan!"

'I raised my hands to him, with his face becoming less tense as the result. I gazed at the Doctor, still standing behind the spine of the day-glo sofa. He seemed just as distraught as he was at seeing the Kommissar 5000, the past me, initially. It still hung close to our ship, and moments passed before Doctor Bandever managed to connect the events I had experienced prior to our voyage.'

'He turned to 662, raising his hands like I had. The Doctor's passive act made him and the other warriors less agitated, and their ire seemed quelled as RhadNhe's tension lapsed.'

"I know you cannot understand me, but I know what I'm doing." he began, as RhadNhe and his warriors winced at the Doctor's words. His facial expression said more than words needed to, his eyes and brow steady as he scanned 662 and 859's demeanors. Both seemed more docile than we had found them, and their cohorts still seemed to follow their steps. 'We may be in trouble here Rod. Whatever happens and whatever they do, I don't want you to overreact.' the Doctor's words hummed in my ear.'

"Ni'hat bhor'ta! Whazz'hat bi'yet?" RhadNhe muttered at Doctor Bandever and I. We both still had our hands raised, with the Doctor standing now behind the sofa where I sat. His warrior's eyes slimmed as he continued his garbled chide. "Yah'na! Mi'yat tan ny'at!"

"Please RhadNhe. I would not endanger any of us, unless I knew it was for our benefit." his words were lost on the Zulus. The cavemen and 859, uncaring, had breached the refrigerator in the confusion. It was a tense standoff between the three of us, and the Doctor's assertive remark had left an impasse in action, diverted the drive of the warrior instincts. We remained still, as the Main Deck of our ship was beginning to fluctuate again. We were approaching a small black dot ahead, as we had before, growing larger and wider as our velocity remained constant. Ahead was a starry horizon, wrapped in a tube of electric fury.'

'Our Zulu counterpart wasn't as ravenous as before, but was firm. He may not have been able to understand the Doctor's words, but he knew those same words had carried us this far, in dream and reality. The sporadic jolts we felt from the transit's effect were starting to calm, and the border of the transit revealed another starry screen, full of galaxies and nebulae slightly different than I remembered. 662 and his eldest warrior, stood firm glaring at the Doctor.'

"B'hoon bi'yet hanna? Ni'hat hanna!" They were both on edge, even though we had safely eluded SOLSA and the Nordius Prime II. Their ambivalence grew as Doctor Bandever rose with it, up from the floor. He ceremoniously brushed himself off, coyly deposited the news clipping into his right coat pocket, and rested his Panel, still glowing, on the sofa's spine directly behind me.'

"RhadNhe, if you can understand these words, you are safe. There is nothing to fear from us." Doctor Bandever's words only seemed to make our Zulus more tense, and he moved closer to the Doctor, who remained still with hands raised. He looked like he was about to speak, simply sighing, and turned to the large screen pointing to the Kommissar 5000. 'Let me do the talking here Rod, don't move a muscle.' my ear burned.'

"RhadNhe I must fix these translators I know." he said, pointing to his mouth, then to the screen. 662 seemed to understand as he went on. "That ship you see there, is part of us." he clasped his chest. "Our past, our time. Do you understand?"

'662's gaze remained locked on the Doctor. This was something I hadn't seen since I first encountered him on his world long ago. The same primal look, the familiar glaze sensing that the intentions we had weren't worthy of action. Or words. The face I had seen was one of silent longing, conflicted by alienation and tormented with guilt. We had hindered his demons, his memories of SOLSA's attack for too long. I shouldn't have listened to the Doctor Diary3.0. I should have told them all the truth, and hoped for the best. Doctor Bandever, still flustered by the lack of communication, continued to stifle any shift in action.'

'He pointed to the Panel next to him, then to my Kommissar on the wall screen. "RhadNhe, I know you can't understand me, but I must use TransFlash. I must replicate the past. If that ship is here, as we are now, then we must do what is necessary to maintain what has happened. This event, that ship you see before you," he said, clamping his hand on my suit jacket, "Is Rod 285, your cohort, well, his past self." The Doctor's long rambling words furrowed 662's brow. The Panel was still glowing atop the couch's spine, as Doctor Bandever pointed at it with his free hand with my previous self in the Kommissar 5000 to our port.'

"Whuzz'ya'ni." RhadNhe muttered, slowly. He knelt to the ground, reaching into a small pouch he carried. Doctor Bandever was alarmed at first, as was I, until his hand emerged with charcoal, and he began drawing a circle on the ground with linear shapes of continents; Earth. "SOLSA, ni'haya dun mah. Ni'hat mah inhlabathi." Aside from the picture, his words were lost on the Doctor still. I didn't know what to do Diary3.0. It looked like the Zulus were planning something. One of them, the weathered warrior, was peering at the Panel as it rested on the couch's spine. His eyes were darting back and forth between RhadNhe and the Doctor, whose eyes were attending to the drawing. I didn't know what to think, until he lunged.'

"Wait! No, stop!" the Doctor's words too late, as RhadNhe's eldest warrior leapt for the Panel. Out of pure instinct of my own, I grabbed it. Both of us gripped at the Panel's corner with fingertips, as the Nordius Prime began to pitch starboard and away, with the two of us wrestling into the kitchen nook. Blarne and Stert toppled onto us, and the contents of the refrigerator, mostly eggs, began cracking and spilling across the floor. The other Zulus, RhadNhe and the Doctor all gripped to the end of the sofa, still bolted to the middle of the room.'

"Rod what are you doing? You're going to kill us!" Blarne and Stert fell on top of us in the corner groaning, as the eldest warrior still clawed at the small corner, now pressing my face into the hard metal wall.'

"Get him off of me! RhadNhe call him off! What are you doing!" my words muffled under the weight of the others, with the warrior's palm in my face.'

"In'nya mi'ha ni'hyat!" he screamed pressing through the translucent screen. RhadNhe rose quickly, gripping the sofa for leverage.'

"Rod just let him have the Panel! Stop fighting him for it!" Doctor Bandever screamed as the room tilted further.'

"What! Why?" The moment I uttered those words, the elder warrior, while mashing the Panel's screen to grab its corner, must have activated TransFlash. I felt the buckle of the ship, and from the corner of the room, I could make out the blue tendrils of electricity beginning to pulsate.'

"Rod! What have you done!" the Doctor's eyes locked in terror.'

"Ni'hat! Bhan-Nana bau!" RhadNhe called to the elder. The warrior turned, angrily at 662, and rose with the Panel. The room remained titled as the Nordius Prime dove downwards through the transit, and the Doctor beckoned to him from across the room.'

"Give me the Panel! Throw it to me!" he pleaded, as the warrior stood firm against the titled floor and wall. "RhadNhe, tell him to give me the Panel." The TransFlash tunnel crackled on the wall screen, and the ship continued to pitch through the transit. 662 beckoned from across the room, glaring sternly at his elder companion. The tension in the air began to lift, as he threw the Panel by the corner to RhadNhe. He handed it to the Doctor, who took hold of its corner and righted the ship, still buckling the tunnel. The minute it had, he tapped the Panel twice, locking in the vector, threw his hands in the air, and erupted in the wall's glow of the transit's blue static veins.'

"Enough of this!" he cried, with even 859 and the cavemen stopping their egg harvest to take notice. "I've had enough of this! This is ridiculous! I don't care anymore about SOLSA! I don't care anymore about trying to solve this problem!"

"Doctor I-"

"Stop Rod! Stop!" his finger shook at me while the others remaining quiet. "You saw yourself out there, right?" his arms flailing. "That was him by the way everyone, our Rod 285 but of the past if that makes any sense!" he was raving now. "But it was a problem! Even if I don't understand it. A problem that needed to be solved for the sake of doing so! Something that had damaged all of your worlds, and may have created SOLSA!" his rage stemming, realizing that his words were still falling on deaf ears, aside from mine. Some of what he said rang familiar from my dreams. The translator was still damaged from the first attack, and none of what the Doctor had said, made any sense to our fellow Rodd-iites. He calmed, clutching the bridge of his nose, as we ventured on through the tunnel.'

"Doctor Bandever...I didn't think the damage caused by what I saw, what the previous me saw, caused this. Caused SOLSA." I said, the with the others cringing at the word. "You said from what you saw that the particle that SOLSA was affiliated with came from the past. Long before I was even born!"

"You don't know that Rod! Even I don't know that!" his words echoed throughout the room, basking still in the transit's glow. All was still quiet, aside from the now distinct sound of Dern sucking a raw egg from its shell. Doctor Bandever's hands reacted, peeling down his face, as he uttered a building groan, finally erupting.'

"We had the opportunity we needed to stop SOLSA Rod! We had it!" his anger was finally getting the best of me. This was something I still regret Diary3.0; fighting with Doctor Bandever.'

"What do you mean? If you mean their ship, let's just go back and find it! Destroy it!" I screamed back. The others stood back and watched, as the Doctor 's shadow loomed to the corner, and I edged back to the sofa. His anger seemed to drain, and he stabilized himself.'

"Rod..." he began, desperate to find the words, "First off, our ship is heavily damaged...and...I'm not an engineer."

'This, was a surprise. "What? I mean I thought...I thought that since you created the hover devices and the Kelvarys and...are you telling me that was all a lie too?"

'He waffled, shifting in his stance as the others watched. "It was Rod..." he turned to the others. The Zulus were apprehensive, the Cavemen were indifferent, and the glow of the tunnel splayed the room in a blue hue. "All of it was, if not much of it." he muttered solemnly, "I wish you could all understand me for what I'm saying now."

"That doesn't change anything! You must know something about this ship and how it works!"

"I do!" he seemed offended by my suggestion. "But my knowledge is limited to my specific understanding."

"Limited? You didn't even know this ship had weapons and you said yourself that you built it! We've been chased across dimensions by mutated aliens! I'm surprised you even got us this far Doctor, and you're blaming me for almost getting us killed?"

"I wasn't aware of the changes made to the Nordius Prime, I made that mistake Rod, I'll admit." he sighed.'

"What do you even do on your world, wherever it is?" I found myself laughing as the others remained clueless. "You obviously never built a space ship, or rode on one. You love sitting around on my disgusting sofa in my crummy apartment and coming up with new ideas that you yourself seem to imply are common in your world. What did you do on your world? Mop the floor?" I giggled. "Work at McDonald's like me? You said it was an honorable profession, maybe you and I are burger brothers too!"

'He shook his head furiously, "You wouldn't understand my world Rod, you just wouldn't."

"What understanding do you mean? You mean on your world? Your universe? Wherever that is." I paced in front of the wall screen, gazing across the couch at him while RhadNhe glared back and forth at us. "You've been less than apt to talk about your world and what it's like, aside from why it's wrong and why you had to run away from it."

"Well I-"

"Yet you'd understand mine? Or theirs?" I raged on, lividly. "Why did you come into my life Doctor Bandever? Why was it necessary to seek me, of all people in my universe out? Why them?" I pointed around the room to the others. "Was it necessary to drag us into something that you yourself couldn't understand? Or refused to be honest about? Why did you even bring us all out here?"

"Because of you Rod! Because of what you saw! Because of what we built on your world! Becau-"

"Bullshit!" I couldn't help but question it, even now Diary3.0, after everything that's happened. "You had an agenda long before you met me Doctor. The very instant I saw you that day on the street, you were planning how to get us here, right here and now. And for what?" I felt exasperated as the tunnel's end, a small familiar dot, began to grow again on the wall's screen. "Technology you can't fix, an enemy we can't fight, a disease we can't cure. Oh don't worry it's not like they can't hear you Doctor, unlike your device! Right Doctor Bandever?"

"Rod..." he seemed to beg. "Please don't do that."

"Don't what? Tell them what you've been telling me? Tell them the truth as I've seen it so far? I've been too complacent with what you've been doing, without so much as lifting a finger. Why should I care Doctor?" I asked through the ship's shuddering. The others had fixed their gaze on the edge of the transit, as it revealed open space on the wall behind me.'

'He seemed taken aback. I didn't care. I wanted answers, and while the Zulus and the cavemen were focused on the view and the shaking, RhadNhe and 859, regardless of the broken computer's translation, remained attentive to our argument. "After all I've done for your world, after all the technology I've shared-"

"Technology that wasn't even yours to share Doctor, and you knew it!" the judgmental me breaking free. "All you've done for my world? Just because you give people flying cars and operator controlled robots, doesn't mean that they're any more advanced than these two, or them." I said, pointing to 859's companions, still sucking egg yolks from the deck's floor. I could Doctor Bandever's face sulking, as I drew a breath, slowing down. "I'm grateful for not having a horrible job. I am grateful and thankful that you came along so I wasn't alone. But you've taken advantage of the fact that you resemble me Doctor, far too much. I'm not even sure what you've done in my image on my world but-"

"Your image Rod?" he began to boil over. "You're referring to this bracelet correct? Well here! Take it!" he ripped it off his wrist and threw it at me, bouncing off my chest and landing on the day glo cushion. The eyes of our two Rodd-iites became fixed upon it as well. "If that's what you want, it has all the answers you need. PTEKK's blueprints of all the technology they've made, and are probably making in our absence. The photonic manipulating software needed to alter the wearer's appearance, encyclopedias inter-plexed to scanners within it, all things that I've used to help us Rod. To help the Rodd-iites defeat SOLSA! Aside from that, it means nothing to me now! Take it!"

'I didn't flinch. "You were only concerned with SOLSA after they attacked my world, not before!" the shuddering abated as we cleared into empty space. The dark glow of the wall screen behind me drew the attention of the other two, as the Doctor replied.'

"That's right Rod." his tone softening. "I could have left. I could have walked away like everyone else in your life." My anger was growing. He knew me too well. "I could have walked out on all these people, and turned away from fighting this creature, but I didn't. You want to know why Rod? Because I made a choice."

"You had no choice!" I fired back, still before the wall screen. "You seemed just as trapped as I was! In my life! You could have left at any moment, but didn't! Why?" I glared at him, his eyes tracking me as I paced. "Something was keeping you there, or had trapped you there with me. You've been less than honest since I first met you Doctor Bandever. Which is another funny thing..." I paused for only a moment. "If you're actually me, why don't you have the name Patternik? I can understand RhadNhe and, him, not having my last name." I said, nodding to our egg sucking caveman. "But we look almost exactly alike. You never told me about your mother but were so interested in mine. Don't worry about them Doctor they still can't understand us."

'He seemed tense. For the first time, he didn't have the upper hand to dissuade me from learning the truth. As much of it as he knew. "Rod you know I only-"

"Save it Doctor! Now tell me, why is your name Bandever?" the others looked on at us, still not grasping a word of our argument.'

"I'm adopted Rod. I never knew our parents, or anything about us."

"Oh really?"

"Yes really Rod." his tone had become firmer. We were resting now in deep space, nestled within clusters and spirals like before, and even RhadNhe looked about nervously to subvert involvement. "All of our universes are different and intrinsic in their own ways. Mine was certainly...unique. You had the luxury of at least living in a world where you knew your family."

"Luxury?" I fumed. "That's what you call my life? A luxury?"

"No, I call your life a despondent and tangled web, based upon a frail comprehension of the underlying nature of life." his tone a rising tide. "I'm not sure if you were aware of this or not Rod, but life isn't fair. Life isn't supposed to be fun, life doesn't know the meaning. It's a word created to understand what something unexplainable is! Do you think a tree has fun? How about an ant? Fun, spirit, joviality, all these things are human traits Rod. Things that created words, words to describe what everything is! Human! Something you and I, and everyone in this room is, no matter how different they appear!" he bellowed, his hand pointing across the room. "You said yourself that just because my universe, my world as you call it-"

"As I call it-"

"Shut up Rod!" he screamed shaking the room itself. All of us were jolted as Doctor Bandever began to overload. "You said yourself that just because my world, as you call it, had all these technologies that we somehow turned out different. That we somehow, became enlightened as a result." he laughed dismally. "You have no idea my friend."

"Friend?" I scoffed. "That's a funny word coming from you. Half of what you've done involved either almost getting me killed, or getting me thrown in jail!"

"That's not true at all!"

'It wasn't. "Well it may as well be!" I paced nervously. I was desperate to come back from his assessment of my life. Something about his taunting was familiar, in a way that made me more than upset. The others still stood still, unsure or impartial of what to do as our fight escalated.'

"All the actions you're referring to, the Justice Department, Marcus Spivy, Ren Jameston? All of these events happened and were curtailed by Herbert Walker, your lawyer. And Matilda Terenstry, and I have no idea how you managed to coax her." he sneered. I was really starting to get angry. "The way you manipulate her makes me sick Rod. I don't know how you did it but it disgusts me."

"What the hell are you talking about Bandever?" my tone was erratic, and the cavemen in the kitchen nook ceased their egg buffet and began to rise from the floor.'

"Her Diary2.0 logs Rod. She talks about you constantly." he said putting his hands on his hips.

"Oh I made sure to keep everyone monitored Rod." he said, nodding to the bracelet he had tossed.

"Go on put it on. You can do everything I did, every horrible, devious thing."

'I was reaching my limit. "What...did you do." I panted. "What did you do Doctor?"

'His reaction dug at me, smirking a goading barb. "Only everything necessary to keep PTEKK up and running. For both of us, and your world to enjoy."

"What did you do? Tell me!" my hands rested on the day-glo cushions, staring across the sofa at him.'

"Only what I had to do Rod, what you would have done if you were in my place. You'd have given yourself a chance. Just as I gave you the chance all those years ago in the street. Do you remember recently? When we had come back aboard right before leaving 859's world? You asked me to try, to just try for the sake of it." his tone weakened, but quickly grew derisive. "I thought then that you understood me, or at least had a grasp of what I intended, but it's clear that you did not, and are incapable. I've had to mop up every mess you've made since PTEKK came to be, every person you've offended, every newscaster you've ignored. You've spent your life in a universe which disgusts you, which is disgusted by you imploring you do follow suit. And you do, and did even when you thought otherwise. Your effort and tenure as a CEO was dreadful one, regardless of the superficial joy and inspiration you thought you brought." he looked now at our egg sucking cavemen. "You were right in thinking they might be less evolved technologically, but they make up for it with instinct, and brawn. But you're incapable of that too."

'He folded his arms across his white frocked chest, Panel in hand, glaring across the sofa at me.

"You cannot even fathom how I've spent years attempting to help you. And by attempt, I do mean that Rod, as you've managed to stifle me at every turn, pushing me away consistently. Frankly, I understand why your mother couldn't stand you."

'I snapped. I didn't know what I intended to do until it happened. But I had withstood too much of his deception. My lunge across the sofa was successful, and Doctor Bandever's was thrown to the ground under me, his Panel dropped to the floor, as I wailed and slammed him repeatedly with my fists. His hands and arms covered his face and head.'

"Get it out! Go on! Get it all out!" he screamed as the others crowded around us. RhadNhe pulled me off the Doctor, as 859 plucked him up from the ground, wriggling angrily. He set him down on the main deck floor, upright, as RhadNhe and Zulu hands held me in place.'

"You have no right!" I howled.'

"No, you have no right Rod! You don't!" he pointed at me, irate. I hadn't caused visible damage, but tears had begun to form in his already reddened eyes, and he brushed past all of us and leaned over the day-glo sofa. He ripped his silver bracelet off the cushion, and grabbed my already constricted hand. He latched it around my wrist. It was comfortable, not gangly or strange. I didn't know what to think until he shook his head in disappointment.'

"You can have all the work for all I care! Maybe then you'll know what it's like to have the responsibility! I don't know how long you went without learning the concept.' he muttered, walking away from all of us, and picked his Panel up from the ground. As he rose his expression had become less tense, and more sullen. I was projecting a side of myself I used often; deflection. Like I said Diary3.0, he knew me all too well, and tried his best to contain his anger, if not for his sake, for mine. I didn't value his words then, and to be honest, I'm not sure I even do now.'

"So what now then Doctor? Where will we go for you next?" I grunted, as the Zulus let me go. My wrist strained from the neural connection fibers. His face remained stern, and he looked at RhadNhe and 859, both grimacing with ungainly faces. His eyes then fell to the floor, at RhadNhe's crude display of earth.'

"We'll go home Rod. All of us." he sighed. "I can't be expected to lead this any longer. I'll answer all your questions, and tell you everything you want to know, all of you." he gazed across the room.

"I'll fix what I can and tell you the truth." He looked at his Panel, then the wall screen, and tapped the translucent screen twice. "I'll deposit you all back in your own universes, once we reach, whatever earth is waiting for us in this universe. This marks the end of your roles here, all of you." he sighed. "This is the end of the Rodd-iite Brotherhood."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Clements!" Glyner's voice echoed from the doorway of Maury's Lounge, a hissing neon sign hanging above. My panting around the alley's corner no doubt led his heavy drunken footsteps to me. I saw him turn the corner, his eyes falling to my feet, and a pool of bilious vomit. He began laughing hoarsely, losing his balance.'

"Aw comon' Clements!" he slurred. "They have bathrooms inside!" his whole frame seemed to chortle, forcing him to regain his balance. I took my hand off the brick wall, its red dust clinging to my palm. "That's vile Clements, vile!...Christ you're gonna make me sick." he managed to grapple himself on a bus route signpost behind him."

"I...I don't drink Glyner. I hate it. I don't know how...how you do it." I spit. I hated this, losing control. My treatment had hardly worked, and had resulted in binge drinking and an absence in rationality. It had been a bad week, and a nightmarish day. Glyner was choking back laughter, or vomit, or perhaps both.'

"Comon', Clements sit down, have a seat right here." he melted down the signpost to the curb, righting himself along its edge. He tapped at the hard concrete, beckoning me over. "Have a seat Clements. Come sit beside your new oracle...your new shaman." he was a raving drunk, Mary. I couldn't take much more of him. Even writing this has become difficult to reflect upon because I never drink. But it's important. I turned to face the red brick, as Glyner's baiting continued, him waving me over fluidly. I managed to stumble a few steps into the signpost, sliding downwards against it with my shoulder.'

"So, what do you think of my temple Clements?" he joshed, waving to Maury's sign behind him. His face, was drooped, skin tan and cracked from the smoky depths of the bar. He almost looked like he was reaching for his flask, only to curl his fingers into his lapel. I may have been drunk, and hallucinating a dead man, but I was almost shocked sober, realizing even alcoholics had limits.'

"You're drunk.." my throat rasped. "Really...really drunk...and so I am." I coughed, spitting out whatever taste remained as his eyes scanned the neighborhood.'

"Yes, yes you are." he sighed, leaning back against the sidewalk. The methods and practice of my new spiritual guide seemed to be lacking, far more than I would have thought.'

"Glyner...I really don't see how this will solve my problems."

"What?..." he groaned, "How what will solve your problems?"

"Drinking...getting drunk Glyner..." I wanted to be more eloquent, "Paying homage to your temple." my words were barely coming together. Formulating sentences drunk was a new experience for me. Hell, being drunk was.'

"Who said drinking would solve your problems Doc?" he arms behind him, resting against the uneven sidewalk, peering upwards. "It gets dark so early these days."

"That does happen in autumn." I wheezed cynically. He couldn't hear me, his observation a diversion. His attention far away, so I gazed to meet where his eyes lurked. Patches of darkness cut through foggy purple plumes, with flecks of emerging starlight dotting its horizon. The grid of the city lights began to sputter, Maury's neon sign coaxing them to live. The moon remained in hiding; its fortress of clouds receding with the wind. Even while I write this to you Mary, I think I missed my calling. Maybe I should have enlisted my passion on drinking and writing. To top it off, the booze made me feel great. Out of control, at least for a breather. As odd as it sounds, it brought me comfort to be with a police officer, even if it was crazy drunken Glyner. It somehow made this binge feel like an advocated pursuit; An unspoken extension of the civil service exam.'

"I remember this place...years ago." Glyner reminisced. "Back when it was nothing but busy streets, nice people, clean air. Now look at it." he said, waving an invisible surly wand across our vision. He didn't need to try hard. "Streets are full of holes, as many as the state budget's." he gulped. "The air is smog, and you're lucky if you can take a breath without tasting diesel." he almost rolled back, "And that's not including all those refugees if you wanna call em' that."

"Refugees?" his spite had been cutting at me all day, since we walked the halls of his 'temple'. Maury's; a seedy dive resting in a permanent shadow. The dusty frames and forgotten bones that scraped the walls and hung within did no justice to the furloughs of the future. They sank in their stools, in the embrace of glowing muted televisions, crept from the light, to hide and await the past's return. "You mean those people in there?" my question was taken as a jibe, and he ruffled himself up, piercing with a glare above his crumpled tie.'

"Those people? In there?" he howled, pointing behind him again towards the doorway. "They're not the problem! They're as much of the problem as all...all this is..." he trailed off, assertively correcting his course. "What you see here, right in front of us Clements, is an experiment. An experiment in motion." his finger and glare fell upon me ominously.'

'I was drunk enough to bite. "An experiment?" My back was stiff sitting down on the hard cement, as I straightened out. "I'll admit, I'm interested in your perspective. You seem more...capable of withstanding what you see." The eloquence in me was beginning to return, as Glyner delivered what I thought at first, was his eulogy for Cleveland.'

"Doc, being capable isn't enough." he glazed eyes focused, and his demeanor firmed. "As you may have noticed Clements...I'm an investigator." he hiccupped.'

"Really?" I gasped sarcastically. I hadn't intended to make him laugh, but he did. He didn't object or seem irate by the interruption. This was a different Glyner than I had seen before.'

"I'm almost as close to a scientist as you can get on the force...without dabbling in forensics, or statistics, or your dogma Doc."

"Dabbling withdrawn!" I waved, smirking and giggling lucidly.'

'My humor was beginning to wear thin. He went on through a polite smirk, a challenge for any drunk. "When I was a kid, it seemed like the right thing to do Clements. It was like...this challenge, not really for any satisfaction other than just doing it...or trying to do it. That's a funny word Clements, 'try'."

"Try?" I asked, fumbling in suit pocket for my cigarettes. His gaze was on me now as we sat side by side on the curb, a smile creeping across his face.'

"There's what I'm talking about." he slurred.'

"What?"

"You. There." he pointed at my efforts, my hand trapped and curled in the lapel. "You trying to get those cigarettes of yours." he started a slow hoarse laugh. "And they're bad for ya! As bad for you as drinking!" he wheezed, "I know you said you didn't drink Clements but I didn't think you were being serious" he bloated and burst into laughter, echoing down the deserted block. He finally simmered, long enough to gently reach over, and take my cigarettes, already wriggled half out of the inner pocket, on the verge of falling onto the ground. He opened the pack and took one for himself, handing the bent box back.'

"Hey..." my offense magnified by the liquor. Glyner, as usual was indifferent to much of my griping.'

"An offering for your new guru." he muttered, palming it to his lips. I was about to retort, when he snapped his fingers close between us. The jolt of it surged in my eyes, almost like a spark leapt from his fingertips. "Lighter."

"What?"

"Your lighter, I need it." his voice muffled by the unlit cigarette in his mouth. His hand remained empty. For a minute, I was drunk enough to think he had lit a match in his hand. Attempting Glyner's standard diet of 4 double shots of rye whiskey and peanuts was clearly not my strong suit. I fumbled in my pant pocket, with Glyner rolling his eyes contemptuously.'

"This will take a while..." he sighed, "I'm gonna take a wild guess, and say you weren't exactly the party type in college were you Clements?"

'I was an open book, with print even an alcoholic could read. "I was more of the type of guy that would do their homework." I finally yanked the disposable lighter from my pocket, and shoved it into Glyner's face. Both my answer and incapacity made him chuckle, and he plucked it from my fingers.'

"Doesn't matter where you go Clements, or how you, try, to do it. You'll always wind up doing someone else's work to make up for their own." he preached, "You said you were the type who did all the work? Well, I was the same way. Just didn't go the, 'academic' route." he quoted with his fingers, slapping my shoulder laughing. "I wanted to do my own work, go my own way. Who would have thought I'd wind up like this, and filling out other peoples' reports all day, and taking out other garbage." his gaze zoned across the street, at pasts undefined.'

"What did you want to do when you grew up?" I blurted. I didn't even mean to, and was surprised I said it, but it was the knee jerk psychological reaction. At least towards ruing one's past. Glyner seemed diverted from his trance, and he blinked at me, depositing the cigarette in his mouth.'

"I wanted to be in the military." he posed, gritting on the filter, "Like my dad was."

'I scoffed, I'll admit. "Seems like the same job to me Glyner."

'His expression wavered and he fidgeted. "It would have been different for me Doc. Way different."

"Well why didn't you just enlist then? You mentioned wanting to go before but didn't. Why didn't you?" I was arrogant when I was drunk. Truth is, I didn't know anything about Glyner's past. He seemed like too much of a loner and a souse to manage a career in the military.'

"Flat feet." he chuckled, lighting his cigarette and handing it back, "Getting back to what I was saying before I lose it again, this experiment I was referring to Doc, has to do with the word try. It means different things to everyone, but it mostly means reacting, or changing." his free hand glazed the horizon once more. "Before you, is the result of society when two different types of people clash; those who try to shape the world, and those who try to pick up the pieces left when they tumble." he took a big drag, blowing it out quickly with a new thought. "You're a shrink right Doc?"

"A shrink?" I hiccupped, flicking the lighter alive.'

"You know what I mean. A head-doctor. A brain fucker, right?"

'I was lost, and it wasn't because of the alcohol. Maybe it was. "What are you getting at? Brain fucker? What's that supposed to mean?"

'His face tensed, glaring ahead, "During the war, they'd call psychiatrists and other doctors like you brain fuckers. Doctors who were part of the war effort."

'My eyes slimmed, and my reaction was coarse. I was relatively new to the field, but I had never heard of my profession in this way. "Who's they?" I asked, expecting another specter of Glyner's. Another of his leopards stalking him in the block's shadows. I lit my cigarette and took a healthy drag. "And what do you mean during the war? I thought you said you didn't fight."

"I didn't." he bluntly replied, casting a sulky look across the street. "I picked up the pieces."

'Now I was even more lost. The mysterious Oracle of Glyner had evaded my logic once more.

"What do you mean?"

'He sighed, taking a deeper drag off the cigarette. Its ash growing steadily, clutching to the filter.

"Around here, when everyone else was off fighting in Taiwan or the Philippines or Alaska, we'd be expected to round up the reds."

"Reds?"

'His tone wearier. "The commies Doc. They wanted us to round up the commies."

'I laughed deeply. 'Tin Foil Glyner' I thought immediately. "Wait wait, stop me before you keep going Detective." I snuffed. "There were no communists in America during the war."

"You're right Doc, they're weren't." he replied almost immediately, staring ahead again.'

"What are you saying then? That you arrested people and and...and charged them with being communists?" I was a little bit concerned now. I know Glyner liked to be a detective and wearing older suits with pomade crimped hair only added to the part. "That type of thing happened during the 50's Glyner. It didn't happen again, no way."

'He took a deep breath, folding his arms on top of himself, his husky legs dangling into the street over the weathered curb. "It happened again Doc...I wouldn't tell anyone, especially you if it didn't actually happen again." his faced seemed to lose color in the neon. Maybe it was the smells, or the liquor, but his stomach was turning and twisting before my very eyes. "I was one of the guys who helped round em' up."

"What? Who? And since when did this happen?" My arms were flailing before I had even noticed, as ash and cinders floated off my cigarette into the air.'

'He shook his head, eyes and jaw jutting downward. "Just guys...women...people. Whoever." he flexed, sighing again, "They were from around here, these parts. All of em'. Their name was on a list, they went. That simple Doc."

"Went?" the whiskey was making my blood boil. "What do you mean went? Glyner...What the hell are you talking about? Is this a confession or something? Some kind of buddy, buddy ritual to see if I'm the bad guy? What the hell are you on about?" I was being completely uncompassionate, in retrospect I admit. I was drunk and he was going on about tired subjects, withered corpses of the past better left to lie.'

"Calm down Doc."

"No, you calm down Glyner!" I rambled, "I came here for advice on how to deal with, seeing a maniac bite his own hands off to escape from being imprisoned, and you're giving me nothing but snake oil coping techniques, and nationalistic propaganda! I've drank more than a bottle of bourbon, I'm a workaholic whose patients don't or can't give a shit, my wife is gone, my son is gone, my house is gone and I...I can't stop thinking about other things..."

"What you saw? With those those...delusions? Of that screwball Patternik?" he leaned forward chuckling. "What? You think I'm a delusion now too?"

"Maybe." I grimaced. "It's possible at this point. Hell, I saw you coming out of the hospital, just as I was trying to get treated! You could just be a hallucination, trying to keep me from getting better!" I pointed at Glyner through whiskey eyes, starting to laugh too. "Hell, maybe you're the reason I got divorced too!" I giggled. He ripped at the seams, nearly falling over, roaring in laughter. It's crude of me to admit this much Mary, but you did ask me to be honest. The roaring from the two of us brought colors to my eyes, the street alive again, deserted but vibrant. It felt good. Drunk or not.'

"You're alright Doc." Glyner waffled, reseating himself on the curb and brushing off his suit jacket.

"I had ya pegged for a suit, a...brain fucker. Instead you're an alright guy." he turned to me, "Hell anyone who can handle my late lunch at Maury's is alright by me."

"We didn't eat anything." I burped, the laughing taking its toll. "Oh...the whiskey." My head was beginning to throb.'

"He snickered. "You asked me what I do to cope Clements." he waved behind him to bar's doorway. "This is my practice. My method. It's primitive no doubt by your, academic standards, but you'll find that my self medication is just as good as any other." his cigarette at its end. He jammed it into the curb, next to him, as I tried to regain my composure, at the hilarious reflection of my life.'

"Now..." his attention back to me, "Getting back to this experiment."

"Oh comon-."

"No seriously Doc, hear me out." Glyner's tone was softer than before, a respect I hadn't seen from him in the short time we'd known each other.

"Glyner...It doesn't make sense." I began, curtly. "I'm sure that you arrested many people under the guise of protecting the United States. Maybe even because of the war and China. But I would have heard about it! People would have heard about it!" My arms were flailing before I had even noticed, as ash and cinders floated off my cigarette into the air.'

"Clements..." he began, "Do you think that just because the fighting is over there, that it doesn't affect what's here?" his glazed eyes peering at me in the glow of the streetlights and smoky embers. "There's just as much vested in keeping the country safe here, as it is over there." he slurred, his finger pointing down the block. "It was a directive we got, at the department...hell everywhere probably. To quell the upsurge of disgruntled or unpatriotic Americans or Immigrants of questionable descent." he poised eloquently. "That's what they fed us at the time Doc but I knew, I knew otherwise. People bought it though, hell they wanted to buy it after what happened, all that happened. Didn't matter how it happened, it just did. Someone needed to take the blame I guess, I know that better than anyone." His reflection had seared to the bone. Truth is, I don't know anything about Glyner's past, or Cleveland's. There were a lot of things still kept out of the public's eye regarding the war, especially what was done at home. I was arrogant when I was drunk, at least more so than I normally was. I didn't believe him.'

"Comon' Glyner. The press would have been all over that. The ACLU, the Bar Association, everyone." I shook my head. He remained still and unshaken.'

"Lemmie get another one of your cigarettes Doc." I sighed when he asked. "Not as an...an offering, but a gesture of good faith." This, was an even stranger comment. This soft Glyner was putting me more on edge than the irate one. The pack and lighter had fallen, and come to rest on the pavement beneath our feet, as my cigarette neared its end.'

"As I was saying," I scooped up both, handing them to Glyner, "People would have been aware of the connection. This is the United States, not Nazi Germany." He lit his cigarette, placing everything on the curb between us. I produced a fresh one for myself, and its glow illuminated the tinting street. Chain smoking felt good, I hadn't started until a week ago. I can see why people developed habits like these Mary. I felt so alien, young for not understanding until now.'

"Doc, you know what happened. They nuke a big chunk of the middle east and the pacific, and firebomb the breadbelt causing all this shit." he said, waving his wand again. He put the cigarette back in his mouth as he fumbled inside his coat pocket for his flask.'

"They never proved that it was the Chinese who did it Glyner!" I groaned. "They never did! It was just a scapegoat, a...a method for someone, or people to just do what they wanted! Take what they wanted! You were right earlier, hell maybe you're right about a lot of other things too." I looked away from him, gazing down the deserted dimming block. "But you're not right about that!"

"Doc I looked you up. I know you didn't live around here, or was born here...I looked it up Clements it's my job." The threads of his flask creaking as he uncorked it. "You weren't here when it happened, you wouldn't know." he gulped at his medicine, taking a deep heave after, and coughing. He didn't sound healthy, let alone look it. My head was swimming already, and I found myself cupping my hands over my temples as his choking carried through the street. Empathy is painful when you're drunk, and drinking and cigarettes did little to quell it. I wish we'd stayed in Tallahassee Mary, I really do. The fall there was much nicer, even if you like the leaves here. I wish we'd never come here.'

"You know the last time I saw...or worked with a psychiatrist, it was one of them?"

"Them?"

"The guys they brought in." he motioned, "To deprogram people."

"What?" Things were getting even more far fetched as he went on.'

"Bear with me here Doc." he took a drag from his cigarette. "Spare me an interruption for once. I need to get this off my chest to somebody." his hands clasped together around the silver flask, gripping the butt between two thick knuckles. "We would round up people. Criminal backgrounds, immigrants, crack heads, speed freaks I mean all of em'. We put em in squad cars and in paddy wagons, drove em' down to the station. They were clawin' and fightin' most of em'. Most of the guys at the time thought it was a great idea. Finally cracking down on all the shit, putting order back into things." he took a firm drag, blowing a thick cloud into the hazy air. "We had this one guy, motorcycle guy, speed freak, all sorts of convictions. Kicked out the back window of the car we were taking him in with. I mean all these guys...people, some of em' bad and some of em' worse, and we were all picking all of them up. All of em'."

"What are you saying Glyner?" I was sobering now, at least it felt like it. Something didn't sit right here, especially coming from someone like him. Why he'd entrust this in me, someone who'd berated him all day is still amiss to me, even as I write this now Mary. He seemed to tense up, finally flexing out a heavy sigh, and a grim, cold stare into the pavement before us.'

"They'd put them all together. All of em. The junkies, the gang bangers, the murderers, rapists, illegals, all in one room. With you guys. Your type." he hissed, still staring forward "They had an auditorium. It looked almost like a classroom the way it was done. This dome, circular egg shaped chalkboard with a podium at the front. All these seats, full of...random people." he stammered, shaking his head. "And they just wanted us to go...to walk away...it was crazy Doc. A room full of the worst of the worst, and two...doctors...at the front of the room, wanted a full compliment of riot police to walk away..."

"What? What happened?"

'He shrugged. "We were under orders. We walked out of that auditorium and closed the door

behind us."

'I blinked. This was still too unreal to me. "What happened? What happened next?"

"Nothing."

'I paused for a second, and laughed. His reaction grew surly, as I genuinely believed he was leading me on. "Nothing happened? Nothing at all!" my bellow echoing. "No upheaval? No screaming? No violence?"

'He shook his head again. "Nothing Doc. Nothing at all. We got to see inside and what it looked like for about a minute before they kicked us out. We waited outside that room in panic mode, all three exits blocked and covered. Not a peep from inside, not a word we could hear."

"Didn't you have surveillance inside? Or cameras, or microphones?"

"Court order, we weren't allowed to."

'I waned at this. "Who could suppress that kind of, of...well who could sidestep legal issues like that?"

'He took a deep breath, "This religion. Or something like it, called the Enclave of Logic."

'This, was familiar to me Mary. I had read an article in Newsweek regarding this group. They were some kind of new age cult from the 70's, but had managed to gain leverage in the government and business. Their leader swam in the same circle of guys you'd see coasting the streets of Dubai. The thought made me cringe when it hatched. Maybe I was more like Glyner than I was willing to admit. "I've read about them before."

"Yeah?" Glyner's face animated. "Well these guys were with em'. The brain fuckers. They must have hypnotized some judge somewhere to allow them to 'rehabilitate' the 'undesirables.' I don't know who signed off on mashing together every offender we had in the database into one cramped room, but it was a nightmare. And the mayor was on board, which meant the commissioner had to be, and all of us were expected to be too." his head shaking. "We were waiting for that place to burn to the ground around us, with us sitting on our hands." he leaned forward, smoke rising from his knuckles. "Three hours later, every single one of those people walked out of that auditorium, and didn't utter a word. Didn't smile. Didn't cry, didn't laugh. I didn't even see one blink. All of them, not a single one, violent or not, did anything. They just filed out past us in rows, like ants."

'I furrowed my brow, "Ants?"

"Yea Clements ants." he flummoxed. "You seem like the type that looks down on people and everything a lot right? Surely you're familiar with ants."

"I know about ants." I bluntly recoiled. "What about these people? Didn't you keep them in the database? Didn't you see them again when they committed more crimes or got unlucky being caught?"

"They walked out that door in a file of rows, and went different directions." his expression lost. "I wasn't in command, but even I knew we didn't have the manpower to track each one, especially right after they had randomly decided to leave." he shook his head, grappling with the past. "A few thousand people, crammed into what was almost like a state-run...brainwashing seminar. Just disappeared right after they left. The next day in fact, we couldn't find a single one of them. Not one.'

'This must have been a stretch. A fishing story. I almost laughed again. "What about their family? What about their friends looking for them?"

"Couldn't find em'." his lips tightened. "All of em'. Gone. Every last one of em.'" he looked at my questioning gaze. "Oh sure we had dozens of relatives, family, all types coming in, looking for some trace of them, whoever they were. But they were gone Doc." his gaze frozen on me. "And I mean gone. Like off the planet gone or something."

"Off the planet?"

"Don't look at me like that Doc." my look must have been jovial. I was struck in disbelief still.

"This is something that I'd expect Patternik to be saying." I said. Glyner wasn't amused. "The delusion of Patternik of course." I began to smirk. "Leads me back to the whole Glyner delusion theory." the remnants of the whiskey spurring me to laugh. Glyner was stone faced, and kept going as though I hadn't spoken.'

"It doesn't matter where they went to Clements. Doesn't matter that they're all just missing reports now, or that the streets are calmer, and the war is over." he leaned back for support. "Or that the world is more deserted because of it. Or the Enclave of Logic. Or their brain fuckers, or you. It just doesn't mean a goddamn to try anymore, when the only thing left to try, is to hold the world together. Piece by piece. That's the experiment Clements. To see who can hold the world together. To see who can't. And to realize that one is usually the other eventually." he reached for his flask again, imbibing deeply.'

'I was still unconvinced. "You never saw them again?" I stumped. "None of them?"

"Not a soul that we originally clocked in. And the evidence was there Doc." he chuckled. "Believe me. There was enough red tape from this thing to wrap us both head to toe into mummies." I snickered at this, and he smiled. "Somebody should have taken the heat for it, or at least been held accountable." he shook his head solemnly. "Not a single person testified. Nobody took responsibility. Hell nobody even knew who organized the event. Enclave of Logic disavowed the whole thing, distanced themselves from it." he waved his hand, making an imaginary criminal disappear.'

"But what about your department?" I wavered. "Someone must have taken the blame. You could just make a couple thousand people vanish. And what about the building? The place where it was held? There must be records of that somewhere."

'He took a sip, lighter than his usual intake, and replaced the flask inside his jacket. "The building itself was an old auditorium that was due for demolition a week after it all took place. They were ripping down the inside walls the next day after it had happened. We weren't even allowed to set foot in the place. Ordered by the Commissioner and the Justice Department."

"What?"

"They couldn't have planned it better Doc. They really couldn't have." his eyes began to glaze over. "They swept the whole thing under the rug. People, the investigators, everyone. They either bought them out or got rid of them." he said coldly.'

"Murder?"

"No no, they never went that far. Only humiliation. Dejection, exploitation, all that normal stuff. The stuff they normally wring around your neck like a yoke to make an example of you towards others. So others will learn."

'I began to see more in him than I had before. "People like you?" he shifted in his curb seat. "Did you try to stand up to them?"

'He smirked, taking a long drag from his neglected cigarette. "Now you know why I think the word try is so funny Doc."

'Glyner's sermon was eroding my conscience. What the hell was I even working for anymore Mary? Seeing my future, Glyner, a gutter of a man, tattered and forgotten by even his former rivals. Scarred by loneliness, without a family or wife, his work his drive, and his tainted dreams now reality. Gangsters and murderers, replaced by shadows and memory. Which enemies were worse? His scars made me think of another's; Rod Patternik's. That's when I remembered.'

"What time is it?" I prodded my drunk companion, nearly toppling him from his curb perch. "Glyner, what time is it?"

'He begrudgingly peeled back his sleeve, gazing at his watch and wincing in the neon light. "7...7:38. Why?"

'Something in my brain had fired Mary. I couldn't explain it then, and I still can't now. His tirade, Glyner's, had given new meaning to me in those few minutes about trying. Its meaning. His was a confession of a life less lived. One given up, forcefully forgotten for fear of dangerous recognition. The drive he once had, stalled by a force greater than anything he could elude, or overcome. In that moment Mary, I saw Glyner's leopard. As much as I had seen Patternik, I saw it's snout peer from the shadows, licking its jaws at the sullen detective. It hadn't seen me, but I knew now that it was there. Focused, awaiting the moment to pounce. "I need to go."

"What?" Glyner revived by my words, "Go where? I figured you were just out here taking a breather, getting that anger out of ya. The soot in there is about the same as it is out here though Doc." his stocky frame arching against the jutting sidewalk.'

"No no...I need to go Glyner, I...I have somewhere I need to be." this produced a weary sigh from him.'

"Doc I'm a cop and I'm a drunk." he frowned. "I know that I'm loud and abrasive, and I am aware of when it's offensive to people." This was as close to an apology as I'd imagine Glyner could deliver. But he didn't have to apologize for anything. I knew what I had to do.'

"It's not that. It's something else." my gaze was still across the block, seeking the shadows for what I had seen. Glyner's eyes followed briefly, scanning into the night, eventually turning to me.'

"You there Doc?" his tone bordering concern. "Look, I know you've seen a lot today and draggin' ya here probably wasn't the best idea." he began to stand, "Comon, let's go back to the hospital. Get you checked out." he creaked upright.'

"No."

"Huh?" he wobbled up. "What do you mean no? Doc..."

"I said no." I belted back. "And stop calling me that. At least for now. May as well call me Clements. it's a little less presumptuous." I clung to the bus sign, ambling up it to stand.'

'He was genuinely confused, the liquor bubbling it further. "But you're a doctor, or may as well be." he stumbled. "Hell this afternoon you were-"

"I was a completely different person this afternoon!" my voice carried down the street. "I'm not the same as I was then." I nearly fell on Glyner, gripping at his lapels "I don't know what's happening to me Glyner but...but I have this feeling."

"Feeling? What do you mean? Jesus Christ Clements pull yourself together!" he wrestled me off his suit jacket, and I turned away from him back towards the alley. "What the hell is going on with you? I barely know you, but in the short time I have, you've gone from an uptight pencil necked geek, to a full blown raving lunatic!" his voice matching my decibel. "What's with you? What the hell happened besides all that crazy shit you saw at Patternik's? Or at the hospital? Jesus Clements, I see things like that all the time, you just weren't ready for it."

"I don't know what I saw Glyner! I don't!" taking a deep breath. "Ready for it or not, it doesn't matter. I don't, see things like this all the time. Nobody does, or should! And I know you don't either Glyner." I gritted. "You don't understand. You just wouldn't now."

'He seemed more offended that I'd lack his capacity. Maybe he thought I was picking a drunken brawl. "Try me Doc."

'I sighed. "There's that word again Glyner."

'He shook his head, his eyes closing apologetically. "I called you Doc again Clements. I didn't mean to."

'I blinked. I didn't even realize he had. "I was actually referring to, try." His face lit in surprise, as I turned and walked away, my Passat parked in view under a withered sapling lining the street. I heard his footfalls, clamoring in pursuit, finally managing to catch up as we both reached the driver's side at once. "Alright so are you gonna tell me what's going on Clements?" he snarled. "I've already admitted I was wrong once, what are you goin' for the new record or somethin'?"

'I shook my head. I didn't even know what I was doing at the time, just a hunch. Another passage from the book of Glyner: Trust thy gut. "I need to take care of something Glyner."

"What something? What are you talking about?" he bellowed as I unlocked the driver's door. He loomed over me from the sidewalk as I leapt in, grabbing Patternik's folder from the back seat.

"What is that? What the hell are you doin' Clements?" I rifled through it, sitting behind the wheel as Glyner kept prying. Something he had said before clicked. The classroom that he described, the Enclave of Logic's experiment. There was a connection I hadn't bridged until moments ago, and now I finally flapped to the notes I had made. The reflections of Patternik's specter.'

"Look Clements you're drunk, and I might be too but you're not drivin' out of here." Glyner's heavy hand reached for me inside the car. I jolted, slamming it and locking the lever, with him jumping back clutching his fingers.'

"The fuck Clements? You could have taken my whole hand off!" his ire muffled by the closed window. He began to tap relentlessly on the window as I poured over my notes within the portfolio from the afternoon. Glyner's classroom and Patternik's delusion seem to be almost identical. But it didn't make sense. Of course nothing really had for the entire day. What was the connection? What bridged them both? Glyner's rapping against my window continued. I creased the section containing my notes, closed the portfolio, and rolled the window just a crack, to funnel it through to him.'

"What the hell? Do-...Clements what are you doing? What is that stuff?"

"Take it! I've seen all that I need to see!"

"See what? What are you talking about?" he flummoxed, fuming over my car. "Look you're drunk, you hit your head and you've seen some screwy shit, all in one day. On top of whatever it is you were already going through. Let's go do what you wanted to do originally Clements, go to the hospital and get you checked out."

"Take, the folder Glyner. Take it!" I flung it through the opening, his drunken fingers finally cradling, and opening it in the darkness.'

"Patternik? This maniac?" he groaned. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Read the section I dog-eared! I have to go Glyner, but I want you to meet me at Rodney Patternik's house before 9 tonight."

"What? I don't even know where he lives!"

"It's in the portfolio Glyner, it's all there." I keyed the ignition, revving the Passat alive.'

'A police siren howled far off as he fidgeted further. "Well what are you doing? Where are you going?"

'I didn't know what was going to happen that night, or the next day. I didn't know why I saw Patternik's dreams, or his delusion before me. I don't know how luck appeared in the form of Glyner's sorry self, and I'm not sure if I'm drunk, injured, or just crazy. I don't know anymore Mary, but the first thing I thought of before all of this, was you.'

"I'm going to pick up the pieces Glyner." my voice firm and I shifted into gear. "Remember! Patternik's house! Before 9 o'clock! Be there!" my wheels chirped as I took off, passing through the intersection, forgetting entirely that I was Glyner's ride.'

"Clements goddammit! Don't make me take a fucking cab!" he faded behind me, and Maury's and the lonesome street dipped into the night.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

30.

'And we have lift-off.'

"Movement?"

'Yup. Subject just got into a vehicle, arguing with a familiar face of ours.'

"Familiar? Clarify 2-9."

'Former colleague base...A barfly, no danger from him.'

"Copy Alpha 2-9. Subject in motion?"

'Not yet. Still arguing between the two of them. Intercept, base?'

"Negative 2-9. Keep your distance. Do not let yourself be recognized."

'Understood...Ok he's moving.'

"Stay with him."

'Alpha 2-9 pursuing. Subject heading east from establishment Maury's Lounge in a late model Volkswagen Passat, blue. Registration Erin, Robert, Michael, Eight, Nine, Four, Six. Subject Identified as...Edward Clements...age 34...recently recruited psychiatrist, Cleveland DHS. Vehicle registration matches subject. Recommend action.'

"Maintain pursuit. Keep a noticeable distance."

'Understood....Base, is subject wanted for criminal or undesirable activity unrecorded to the database? He is swerving across the white line, and came from a drinking establishment. Police frequencies could be notified if the need should arise, make apprehension a little easier.'

"Negative Alpha 2-9. Discretion is utmost. Subject believed to be meeting with members of a group affiliated with former E.O.L. representative Doctor Jean Devaroux. Devaroux was stripped of his position earlier this week and disappeared. He is believed to be meeting subject and affiliated group at previously surveyed location 2638 East 86th, 2100 hours. Devaroux and affiliates are considered to be armed and dangerous. Police channels may be monitored but do not, repeat, do not contact federal or municipal authorities in the event of complications. Use secure frequency C-01-B for instruction and extraction if such events occur. Maintain radio silence during subjects' conversations for recording purposes."

'Copy. Continuing pursuit...Subject has turned left, heading northbound on West 11th...turning left onto Fairfield, he's probably going to take the Innerbelt.'

"Stay with him."

'Copy...Subject has now...taken a right, repeat right onto the Innerbelt, he's heading east...'

"Maintain pursuit 2-9."

'Base, do we have aerial surveillance in place? He's picking up speed and there's thick traffic, I don't want to lose him.'

"Negative Alpha 2-9, aerial surveillance is not available. Discretion is paramount. Maintain distance and avoid introduction, but do not lose subject. What is subject's current location and heading?"

'Subject is crossing Old River now. Maintaining northeastern direction towards the state campus.'

"Understood Alpha 2-9. Maintain distance and report subject movement."

'Copy.'

"What about movements of secondary subject Alpha 2-9?"

'Secondary? Clarify, base.'

"Alpha 2-9, the familiar face you recognized. Recommendation required for deployment of secondary detachment."

'Negative base, negative. Familiar face circumstantial. Secondary detachment not necessary.'

"Understood Alpha 2-9...Subject's heading?"

'Continuing northeasterly direction along Innerbelt. Subject is approaching the Ontario Street Exit... ok Base, he is staying on 90. Repeat, subject still on the Innerbelt.'

"Stay with him. Report any sudden deviations in direction."

'Understood. Base, do you think he's already proceeding to destination?...Over an hour at least until 2100.'

"Unknown, 2-9. Subject could be rendezvousing with another member or group in advance before the arranged meeting at designated location. Surveillance of subject vital for investigation. Subject's role is unclear, aside from potential involvement with known anti-E.O.L. affiliates."

'Subject is only person of interest then?'

"Confirmed Alpha 2-9. Subject may also be the focus for recruitment by Devaroux and affiliates."

'Understood base...Subject is now five cars ahead, doesn't look spooked...He's not swerving any more at least.'

"Keep your distance 2-9."

'Copy...subject passing the ninth street exit....Could be heading to designated location in advance.'

"Stay with him 2-9. If subject's course deviates to prearranged meeting location, maintain radio silence and record surveillance until Devaroux's presence is confirmed. Subject could be scouting the location for Devaroux, or his affiliates. Notify Base immediately upon Devaroux's arrival."

'Understood.'

"2-9, aside from previous mentioned target, has subject interacted with anyone since leaving pre-arranged meeting point?"

'2638 East 86th?'

"Confirmed Alpha 2-9. Was subject approached by additional or unknown targets?"

'Negative base, aside from the vehicle containing one male and one female arrived earlier during his time there.'

"Understood. Records indicate female affiliated with Luther Medical Services and male is family relation."

'Any connection found there base?'

"Negative. No questionable connection to subject or Devaroux. Male and female are of negligible value or intel."

'Understood...subject has now passed 22nd street and the hospital...traffic has lightened up a little bit.'

"Copy 2-9. Make sure he doesn't suspect you're following."

'Doubtful base. Traffic's still thick and it looks like he's still drunk...or he's looking at something in his car...base do we have any idea what subject was doing at the hospital that would have spurred him to target location?'

"Unknown at this time 2-9."

'Then how did subject even gain knowledge of Patternik?'

"Unknown at this time 2-9. Psychiatric rehabilitation had been arranged for Patternik after the disappearance of Devaroux. Somehow, the paperwork was lost, and DHS ordered the reissued standard treatment for Patternik and many other of Devaroux's patients."

'And subject was assigned the Patternik case?'

"Confirmed. Subject is unknown by our local affiliates and records indicate is not connected to external influences. However, circumstances of subject's arrival at arranged meeting place earlier and the involvement with Devaroux's casework lead to the decision of his continued surveillance. Subject is believed to have been contacted by an affiliate of Devaroux's working at the hospital, or was passed information by Patternik before his death."

'Was Patternik working for Devaroux?'

"Unknown at this time 2-9."

'Copy...Query, how did base gain information about meeting place and time?'

"That information is unnecessary for current objectives 2-9. Strat-Comm-1 clearance required for additional."

'Understood base.'

"...Update of subject's heading 2-9."

'Copy...ok base, subject is deviating from the Innerbelt...heading eastbound on the Carnegie exit. Repeat subject is eastbound on Carnegie exit.'

"Copy 2-9."

'Subject still on the off ramp...ok base he has merged onto Carnegie...'

"2-9, any idea where he's going?'

'...Base, DMV records show an address of 2263 East 33rd street as subject's main residence. Subject may be returning to his own residence, it's closer than the meeting point...subject is still eastbound on Carnegie...passing 28th now...'

"Understood. 2-9"

'Base, subject's residence seems unnecessary. Break pursuit and return to arranged meeting point?'

"...Negative, repeat, negative 2-9. Negligible and tentative threats involving subject may include subject's family members. Additional intelligence required. Maintain surveillance and avoid detection."

'Copy...he's staying on Carnegie past 30th...he might not be going home base.'

"Understood 2-9. If subject should-"

'Stand by base, stand by. Subject has just deviated from Carnegie, bearing south on 32nd. Repeat, subject southbound on 32nd. Looks like he's going home after all.'

"Keep your distance 2-9. Expect anything."

'Understood...subject has made a left on Cedar...and just jumped the curb right onto 33rd. Subject is still clearly intoxicated base.'

"Police? Pedestrians? Are there witnesses 2-9?"

'...Negative base...no movement aside from subject...he's come to a stop now in front of residence, 2263...small house, one small vehicle in the driveway.'

"Understood 2-9. Maintain distance and radio silence for recording purposes."

'Copy base...array in place...subject has just exited his vehicle, beginning recording.'

*recording

Subject (E.Clements): Mary! Mary!...Open the door! Mary!

Unknown: Who is that?

E.Clements: Go back to sleep Mr. Carver!

(Carver?) Ed?...Ed is that you?

E.Clements: Go back to sleep!

Carver: What are you doing out there?

Unknown: Eddie?

E.Clements: Mary!

(Mary?): Oh...god Eddie what's going on? What's wrong with you?

E.Clements: What do you mean? I feel great!

Mary: You look...drunk...Oh god look at your suit, you have it all over you...Jesus Eddie.

E.Clements: Mary I-

Carver: Mary what's going on here? Are you ok?

E.Clements: Go back to sleep Mr. Carver it's past your bed time anyway!

Carver: Bed time? It's not even 9 yet! Ed I don't know what's gotten into you but-

E.Clements: Shut up Carver! And go back inside your house!...I came to talk to my wife. I came to talk to you Mary...I-

Carver: Jesus!

Mary: Oh god Eddie you're going to make me sick...Come on baby lie down, sit down on the grass come on.

E.Clements: Mary...I-

Carver: I'm callin' the cops Mary. This is ridiculous.

Mary: Gene I don't think that's necessary.

E.Clements: No let him! I'll tell them all about him snooping around our yard, or stealing things from our cars? I'll do it too Carver! Call them!

Mary: Eddie you're drunk, you don't know what you're saying.

E.Clements: Mary...I...

G.Carver: Mary, I'm callin' the cops, I'm sorry, you deal with em'. Ed, I don't know what happened to you but I'm sorry. I can't take this crap! I'm too old for it!

E.Clements: Fuck off, Gene!

G.Carver: Bunch of assholes I don't even know why I still live here.

Mary: Gene wait! Eddie, Christ what is wrong with you?

E.Clements: I love you.

Mary:...What?

E.Clements: I love you Mary.

Mary:...Eddie.

E.Clements: What?

Mary: Oh god...Not again Eddie. Not now...

E.Clements: What? Now is now. Now really...really is...now.

Mary: You're drunk Eddie...You don't know what you're saying...

E.Clements: I do Mary, I do.

Mary:...Eddie, baby...you don't know what you're saying. You're drunk, and I love you too, but it's just...

E.Clements: What?

Mary:...It's over Eddie...it's been over. It hasn't been that long but it's just...done.

E.Clements: Mary...

Mary: Eddie, you know why this happened...You know why it turned out this way.

E.Clements: How Mary? How did it turn out this way?

Mary: God Eddie not now...

E.Clements: How?

Mary: Lower your voice.

E.Clements: I worked every day Mary! I tried the best I could!...Wasn't that good enough?...How is that not good enough?

Mary: It's good enough for a job Eddie! It's good enough for school, or for paying bills, but it's not good enough for a family Eddie! For us! I...I don't even know you anymore! You've just been...gone! Your work is all you do Eddie. You're not who I knew, who I remember.

E.Clements: What?...I...I did everything for you! And for Simon! How...how could you Mary?

Mary: How could I what Eddie? Leave you? Divorce you? You divorced me! You left Simon and me! You were gone! You were off in your own little world Eddie! Remember? How you wanted to make the system work, and make everything better again? How you wanted a better life for Simon and me, like how it used to be for us growing up? Don't you remember? I supported you Eddie...I wanted to! I really did! I wanted to be there for you when you finally reached what you wanted! To have you win and have you back! But you didn't! Nothing ever satisfied you!...All you wanted to do was challenge yourself with what you did! With your work!

E.Clements: Mary I-

Mary: You don't care about us! You don't care about Simon! Or me! You never cared Eddie, you never gave a slobbering shit! We're nothing to you! We're...we're just another challenge to you, but not even one worth your attention!...You bring home a paycheck and eat with us rarely and think that you've solved the family problem but...but...

E.Clements: But what?...Mary?

Mary: Where are you Eddie?

E.Clements: What?

Mary: Where are you Eddie?...Where's the man I married? Where's the...the husband that made waffles every Sunday morning? Where's Simon's father who used to walk with him to the library?...Where is he? Where did he go? Did you work him under a rock? Or drink him away now Eddie? Huh? You're drinking now too, something you never used to do! What happened to my husband?...What did you do with him?

E.Clements: Mary I...I didn't know...I would have tried if I knew...I just...

Mary: You did know Eddie! You knew all along! I tried telling you Eddie! I tried everyday! You were vacant! You were gone! Removed! You were a fucking ghost! Whatever you had, whatever made you who you are is just...gone! Or almost gone! You're losing everything and you don't even care!

E.Clements:...Mary I-

Mary: No! No Eddie! Enough!

Unknown: Dad?

E.Clements:...Simon!

Mary: Simon honey go back inside and shut the door!

(Simon?): Mom, what's wrong?

E.Clements: Simon!

Mary: Simon go back inside this instant!

E.Clements:...What now you won't even let me see my son?

Mary:...Eddie...he's not your son anymore! Don't you understand?...You didn't want us. You didn't love us...You never needed us!

E.Clements: No...

Mary: All you ever wanted was your job Eddie! That's it!

E.Clements: No!

Mary: You had all the chances in the world Eddie! You...just didn't care...

E.Clements:...Mary...that isn't true, it just...

Mary: God...I can't deal with this...just...just leave.

E.Clements: What?

Mary: Just leave...Leave! Go!

E.Clements: Thi...This is my house Mary! I live here!

Mary: Lived here Eddie!...You lived here. But whatever part of you that did, died a long time ago! Even if you didn't!

E.Clements: I can go inside my own god damned house!

Mary: This isn't your world anymore Eddie!...Damn it! You never wanted it! You don't deserve it anymore!

E.Clements: Let go of me!...I can go inside my own house!

Mary: This isn't your life anymore!

E.Clements: Simon!

Mary: You don't live here anymore!...You're not going...Stop! Let go of me!...

E.Clements: Mary! Ow!...Mary! Mary! Let me in!

Mary: Go away Eddie! Go away!

E.Clements: Mary!

Mary: Leave us alone! We already were for years Eddie! You were never there for us and you never cared!

E.Clements: No! Mary please!

Mary: Get the fuck out of our lives!

E.Clements: Mary! Simon!... Oh god Mary!...Please, Mary! Mary!

G.Carver: Quiet out there!

E.Clements: Fuck off!

G.Carver: Cops will be here any second Ed! Give it a rest!

E.Clements: Mary!...Mary!

'Ok...base, dialogue recorded...subject has re-entered his vehicle...Interdiction by local authorities pending.'

"Copy 2-9. Recommendation for secondary detachment for recorded targets?"

'...Base say again, secondary detachment?'

"2-9, recommendation needed for recorded target surveillance."

'...'

"Alpha 2-9...2-9 come back."

'Negative base, negative...Recorded targets of negligible value. No connection to Devaroux or affiliates... Just something we weren't supposed to see...'

"...Understood 2-9...maintain discretion and continue surveillance of subject."

'Copy...Ok base, he's back on the move.'

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'I veered out of the neighborhood past the Castur's, and clipped the curb on the way out. I had done the same thing coming down the street and the car's drive changed dramatically. The rumble and treadle underneath me seemed to be more ominous than even I knew. I didn't care. I nearly twisted off the radio dial, blaring the speakers as much as they would submit. Whiskey was still blinding me through scalding tears, and my hand had been sprained from slamming the wheel repeatedly. What else could I do? Glyner's methodology wasn't working. I didn't know how else to cope. Nothing aside from unbridled rage was sustainable for more than a moment. Being drunk only made it worse; the waning song two fold:'

'Gave you your last chance

But you didn't believe me

You can't keep me satisfied,

The way that you treat me

It's not love

That left you standin'

It's not love

That left you cold

It's not love

Misunderstandin'

Only a mistake

There's nothing left to take'

'The lyrics entranced me, diverting my focus elsewhere. This music was still new to me, but my environment seemed just as alien. Cleveland looked so different when it was dark. Different than I remember first moving here. Passing the sign for the library was when I remembered trekking hand in hand with Simon. Reading stories and tall tales. Ice cream on the way home. Thinking of both of you, and trying not to think of the song was making me tense, and the whiskey more potent. That's when I noticed the car. I had crossed onto Carnegie, leaving the neighborhood, when I honestly began to believe that someone was following me. I thought it was the police, and did my best through beer goggles to straighten out the battered car.'

'My pulse began to race and I flipped off THE BUZZARD'S wailing, as rows of traffic's headlights checkered behind me. I flicked on my blinker, lurching across a deep pothole, right down an alley, and stopped for a moment, silent except for the engine's grumble. I sat, peering into the mirror, waiting for my pursuer to emerge from behind the shielding stucco building, headlights bearing down upon me. Some new challenge creeping to strike. But it never came. My pursuer, was an import, and simply passed by on the street I had ducked from, not even slowing. I may have been drunk, but for the first time that I could remember, I was overcome and hysterical. More nervous and frightened than I had been when I tried to talk to you before, or having seen Patternik die. You were completely right Mary. Whatever I had left, I was losing. It was just slipping away, flaking off in the gusts as I chugged on into the night.'

'The hysterics from my tension must have activated a rational circuit in my brain. Whatever had made me lose control was quickly dissipating. My blood was beginning to calm, and the beads of sweat that were streaming seconds earlier evaporated. Even liquor can't hold back my mind, and my handling of the Passat had improved, even if it sounded like half a wreck. Maybe it was the vomiting. Or my imaginary pursuer, another leopard borrowed from Glyner. Regardless, I snapped back to my familiar self, summarizing the afternoon, disassembling the connection to Glyner's past, and recognizing my ultimate goal: To prove if I actually was losing my mind, or if something else was responsible for what I had seen. I could have slept in this morning. I could have quit my job. I could have walked right past Glyner and into that hospital to be treated. I could have spent more time with you and Simon. But I didn't. Now I have no choice, simply because I've neglected every other choice I had and have become my own patient. The dashboard's clock read 8:24, and I knew it was well before the time that Patternik's apparition had said. But the police were probably looking for me, and they'd start with my hotel room, empty as it was. I had nowhere else to go.'

'I would have tried coming back, and at least attempt, vainly, to talk to the police. But even sobering up I knew it was a bad idea. You understand me Mary, all too well. But you never knew why I'm this way with my work, especially more now than ever. I have to know, not just for patients or my records, but for the sake of knowing. You were right; I'm a workaholic, I know that now. Feeling and seeing my hand write that means more than it ever did. But this is something too amazing to turn down, too incredible to ignore. Even if all that was revealed was that I had really lost my mind, knowing that alone would be worth gold itself compared to the devious alternatives that were unraveling. I owe that much to you and Simon.'

'The twists and turns I took to Patternik's did little to sway my imagination. Turning the radio back on didn't either, but I kept it lower than before. 86th street isn't that far from where our house is, but after what happened I wanted to make sure I didn't get arrested. Though I'm not certain if it's because I thought I was being pursued, or if I was killing time. Blinking streetlamps and shadows streaming across vacant building only made my mind race. My driving and environment were just a blur. All these new clues were running circles inside my head. How did Glyner's description of what he saw, connect with Patternik's dreams? Was Devaroux experimenting on Patternik? Was Devaroux part of what Glyner was talking about? The coincidence was stark enough for a drunk to see, and sobering up only made it clearer. I could see why Glyner loved his work so much. It was exhilarating and challenging for the mind, far more than any work I had done with DHS. And for the strangest reason, I felt like I had done it all before. I just couldn't place that feeling.'

'It seemed to be because I was driving at the time, remembering streets and places where we'd go. But even the similarities, the dreams, what I had seen at random after Patternik's death in the hospital, Glyner sparking the connection. All in the span of a day. It was too much, too real to just be my own mind at work. I had realized then, that I had no way of knowing if Glyner would actually show up to Patternik's. It wasn't right to leave him there without a car, I know that now, but I had to try Mary. I was considering if he would even care, as the headlamps cut the pitch black, across 86th street, and down Patternik's block.'

'The neighborhood was even more unwelcoming at night than during the afternoon. The distant horizon was dotted with lights, speckling between ghostly silhouettes of the abandoned homes. All the lampposts lining the street drooped solemnly. The headlights guided me to Patternik's doorstep, still covered in the thick swatch of prickers and untamed brush, while the rest of the street remained pitched in black. I parked with the engine running, headlights illuminating neglected rows of shuttered suburbia. They looked weathered in the faded stretched light, twisting with the gusts between the patches of bushes; gloomy reminders of the past. The molting trees creaked and swayed, their bare branches overhead, waving my return through my sunroof. It must have been Halloween year round on 86th street. The radio hummed on softly after I had killed the engine, sonnets I'd never imagine hearing until today. It was when I noticed the song, and stopped to listen in over the creaking overhead, is when I grew even more sick:'

'Ever had a conversation,

That you realize you've had before,

Isn't it strange?

Have you ever talked to someone,

And you feel you know what's coming next?

It feels pre-arranged.

'Cause you know that you've heard it before,

And you feel that this moment in time is for real,

'Cause you know when you feel Deja-vu.

Feels like I've been here before-'

'Shudders of nausea swept over me as I snapped my keys out of the ignition. The road before me vanished back into night, the dashboard clock striking 8:39 before fading. Blotches of darkness and quiet resettled as I peeled the door open, nearly falling onto the pavement, frantic to get out. I slammed it shut, and bolted away across into Patternik's front yard, with new haunting words strumming in my head, chasing me from the car, resonating in each hurried step I ventured forward.'

'I had to get away from that music, my car, my clothing hamper, my coffee maker, everything in my life. I was a wreck. Wrestling with thickets, sharp spiny branches, and tearing apart what was left of my suit through thorns was better than sulking in what was. I was ruined. My inexperience with liquor only made it all worse, but any pain from my safari was incomparable to where my mind was, and every snag was dulled significantly. Not caring about the fact that my suit was already destroyed also helped, but trudging on through the dark, I couldn't evade the lingering fear of caring too much about what I was feeling, over what I should be thinking.'

'Everything I was experiencing was indicative of a massive psychotic episode, something any one of my competent colleagues could diagnose. Being on the run from the police also wouldn't help my case. It was the feeling, everything about it. It was something I couldn't ignore. Wouldn't ignore Mary. I turned the corner through to the backyard, wrenching through the thatches and brambles that I had desperately avoided before, my newest dress shoes kicking through the nets of entrenched vines and grasses. The back of the house was still a jungle, more menacing with its shadows brought to bear. Leopards be fucked Mary. I don't care.'

'I squinted against the back of the house, finding the lines along the doorway leading downwards, and began my descent. My feet fell slowly inching and echoing each hard step, clinging to the wall with my left and reaching clumsily through thick cobwebs with the other. My fingers stretched into the dark, probing for any end, finally reaching the frays of the tattered screen door. I finally eased to the floor of the basement entrance, the white inner door standing brilliantly against the shadows at the bottom. Feeling around, I pushed the screen's button knob, opening to the thick wooden door, and jiggled the knob to see if it had been locked in the time I'd been gone. It gave gently, and clearly had remained untouched since past.'

'The screen creaked closed behind me, as I gingerly folded the heavy wooden door back between the door jam. I crept into the hallway, tiptoeing through the passage with the familiar cardboard pillars labeled SOFTWARE and COMPUTER PARTS flanking me. In the darkness, it almost felt like one of Glyner's detective stories he had ranted on about in the bar come alive, or some forgotten horror movie making its reality based debut. It was even more thrilling than I could have imagined, circumstances or not. Then a familiar thought struck me, drunkenly ignorant, and left me cursing once more. Again, I had forgotten to bring my flashlight, leaving it as idle as it had ever been.'

'Finding a light switch was a chore in unto itself, and its location I should have taken the time to remember. But I also didn't want to give the impression I was here to anyone, other than Glyner. To be fair, I also wasn't thinking straight, as was obvious by now. I padded my pockets for anything, clearly forgetting I had broken my phone when I had tried to call you before Mary. Alcohol may be a good diet for Glyner and others, but I wasn't suited for it. I did have my lighter though, and flicking it twice cradled the room in a bubbled glow, revealing the passage straight towards the white staircase, draped in hovering planks of cherry wood leading up.'

'The cliffs of stacked boxes ended at the first rise. I stubbed my foot on each level in the flickering light, even though I'd walked the same flight only hours earlier. One stumble cracked my knee against a step, a sharp stinging left to brunt. This was the last time I'd rely upon liquor, or an alcoholic for comfort. The stairs leading up to the living room heaved a little more than they had before. I was being less than clandestine as I stumbled up the rest, peering around as my view leveled out. Everything was exactly as it had been before.'

'The aged leather sofas, the dust logged rugs, nothing had been moved. The kitchen was untouched, and even the stained window and floor had dried a crusted and brown hue. I had been anticipating someone from Glyner's district to have come earlier to clean up. I cringed at the thought of Mrs. Whitman cleaning up her own blood because nobody else would. Addled with drunken courage, I even had a spurting thought that I should clean it. I was reluctant though, mainly because I didn't want to create any evidence that I had even been there, aside from my car parked out front. Paranoid as I had become, I had a thing or two to learn about subtlety and living on the lam. Of course, that's when I heard a familiar voice.'

"It wouldn't be the first time you've thought of doing that." I turned from the tainted window to see Patternik, still clad in the hospital gown and etched in tally marks from head to toe. He was standing close to the kitchen sink and counter, far off from the window's slim light. His calm smile broke whatever determination I had salvaged. It was a delusion. It had to have been. He seemed to be less tactile than before during the afternoon, his bodily edges aglow in a blue hue. Delusion or not, I was here. Just as he, it, had asked. The damage caused by everything that had happened today alone, met with this was enough to bend me to breaking. I wasn't in the mood for these whims of familiarity.'

"Alright Rod, whatever you are, I'm here." I said, pulling out a chair on the kitchen's dinette. "I don't know what else you wanted from me, but I've sacrificed a lot to make this happen." my speech still slurred from the whiskey. I sat down at the table, speared in a fractured beam from a far off streetlight. He was still smiling, no doubt recounting the 300th or however many times I've sat at the table. I was giving legitimacy to whatever he was, more than I had earlier. Or wanted to at all.'

"You're early Dr. Clements." he paced to the window where I had stood, gazing out into the night.'

'I remember taking a very deep sigh, recounting the afternoon in my head. "I don't think I'll be a doctor much longer Patternik. I have a feeling once they find out I'm talking to delusions of a dead man in a dilapidated house, wanted by the police, they'll think twice about awarding me any work in the future."

"Police?" his voice muffled facing the glass.'

'I nodded. "I think they're after me anyway." I turned to the front door, and the sedate street outside. "But I don't think they are." I turned back to face Patternik's, back, at the window unnerved and calm. "Who know anymore. I know I don't." my head fell, buckled by my hands from the table top, while the apparition of what once was didn't waver.'

"Was it because of your wife? And your family?" I honestly thought he was baiting me at first, another jibe delivered by the day.'

"Whatever you want Patternik. Rod. Whatever!" I flummoxed, finally laughing, turning in the hard chair. At the time he seemed almost no different in attitude from what I had seen before. "What do I call you? A ghost?" Delirium and arrogance were beginning to twist their blades. "Have you settled on just what you are yet?" I could tell immediately that he meant well. Even my reaction couldn't erode the genuine sense of concern I felt from his image. This was a side of Patternik's I hadn't expected, real or not.'

'His face turned to me from the window, his blue-lined silhouette still pointing out its panes. "Oh I've come fully to grips with what I am Dr. Clements." his fading eyes turned back to the bloody printed pane, staring into the starry patched of the orange and purple sky. "You're the one who can't accept what he is."

"Alright, I've had it." I snuffed. At this point Mary, I still didn't know what any of this entailed, aside from mania. Or if 'this' was anything more than talking to myself until Glyner arrived. This was enough. Officially this time, as my tolerance had finally been broken. First by stress, then by alcohol, and now finally by a revolt in my own sensibilities. Focusing on all this was just making my mind overload.'

"What?" he glowed in surprise, shifting away from the window, and taking a slow shuffle to the chair he had occupied earlier in the day. "Come on Dr. Clements. You've never given up before." he firmed. "Don't tell me you're leaving. Not after all this." he wasn't shouting, or angry. Seeing this ghost hadn't sent me for a loop. Its comfort is what took me off guard.'

'My lips quivered, and my retort halted. It had been garnered for an alternate response. One Patternik hadn't exhibited. This was when I noticed that he wasn't in control of my thoughts, or had been observing them in some way aside from watching me. He reached the table, and melted into the chair. If he was a delusion, he was as desperate for attention as one. But his plain expressions, and almost wisp-like presence and movements were all passive. Not aggressive or volatile in the slightest like before. My mind was already wandering in a completely new plane, and his encouragement only emboldened it. He was different, but my mind desperately needed a lapse.'

"Actually, I was going to ask for paper to write on." I didn't have the portfolio, but I also didn't have a way to transcribe what I was seeing. This must have been worth something, even if the attached prestige would never be mine.'

'His eyes widened, with his entire body almost rippling from it. Looking at him, you'd hardly notice he didn't have dimension or depth. But the way he sat, was fluidic, like staring at a living puddle's face. "Writing what? I would have thought by now you'd have more than enough. At least you always had before."

'I didn't know what to say. I felt entitled to be rude, and angry at what I was forced to see, but it didn't seem right. What I was seeing wasn't like before. Besides, saying you're writing a letter to my divorced wife and son seemed odd at the time. Then again so did I. "I wanted to take more notes if you didn't mind." I flopped against the chair's hard back. "Considering that I gave up my life for this work, and there's really nothing left for me in this life." adding a sloppy grin.'

'He didn't even have to look, and could tell I came empty handed. "I thought you had your portfolio with everything I had told you and Dr. Devaroux in it?" his concern was evident but remained stable. "What you saw, the exfoliated me: did it mention anything about the Nordius Prime? Or SOLSA? Or the Rodd-iite Brotherhood?"

"Yup." I burped.'

"What about your portfolio? All of your notations?"

"I gave it to someone else."

"Who?" his figure remained as lively as it had been, a blue lined shadowy ripple sitting upright in a dining room chair.'

"A detective. Policeman. You may remember him, Frank Glyner? He was the policeman who interrogated you."

'His expression tensed, but he didn't erupt as I expected. The liquor made me brutally honest, too revealing even to a delusion, but this apparition was less rocked by circumstances than me. "I know, and remember." his glow seemed to dull. "Are you sure it was wise? To bring him into this?"

'I was too drunk at the moment to think about the complication of Glyner's involvement in anything. "I wouldn't be concerned about him Rod, Patternik, whatever." I replied surlier than intended. "Everyone has their own problems and he's just a person. That anger, the way he is...not true of the man. I'm sure you can relate, I didn't think I could." I trailed off, gazing into the tabletop.'

'His eyes stayed on me, while I regained myself, waffling in my chair. "I wasn't concerned about his involvement. But it will have an effect on you."

"Will it?" I definitely laughed, almost choking. "I'm fairly certain it has already Rod. Before, I was willing to just think you were a bump to my head, or some kind of bad dream." I raised my finger to him, his eyes tracking it and following back to my face. "But now that I'm drunk, I'm capable of accepting anything. Anything you can tell me, whatever you are." I couldn't even formulate a sentence, I was still more drunk than I thought. And yet, he didn't even flinch, and what happened next initially compelled me to write this all down. Simply because it had to be done.'

"Dr. Clements, I know that you're doubting yourself. I know that from experiencing through your memory, what you experienced this afternoon. You did not see me, or I should say, you didn't see all of me. It was the remainder of my being, physical whatever was left here. It has caused damage to you from my lack of understanding, and I can't do anything more than apologize. Regardless of what you've seen and what you've been through, you're more qualified and open than you know. You're still a doctor, and I need your help, even if you barely know me and know what you're seeing."

'I was bemused, but I didn't give it justice at first. Like I should have. "Whatever you say Mr. Patternik!" My exuberance didn't so much as crack a smile, or waver his solemn glance. He went on, as I fell prey to his words.'

"I know you have your doubts. I'll do my best to clarify, from what I know now." he said, taking a deep breath. "What you see before you, is not me either. That is to say not my physical remainder." he began. "What you saw this afternoon was only mineral memory. Whatever was left of my body after I died, my last living cell's memory." his eyes faded off, only to re-eclipse at the sight of me straining at him. "You'll find I'm more eloquent and, well relaxed in this form Doctor. It's not simply because I've randomly become more calm, or resolute. It's simply because I'm dead, and have had what has felt like eons to reflect, in what is actually perceived as microseconds here. I've dwelled in this place, this realm far from here, and have had countless hours to spend on subjects, both conversed and experienced, with those like me."

'I couldn't help but scoff. It was imaginative, even for my mind. But it was still unbelievable. "What are you then?" my tongue dry. "What are you a ghost? Some kind of poltergeist come to haunt my life?" I was still brazen, uncaring. After this entire afternoon, or month, I doubt anyone could blame me.'

"You could call it that." he was patient with my drunkenness, as he gazed up, with his eyes falling back to the table. "I'm the non-material memory of Rod Patternik. The Rod Patternik you knew, or had come to know."

'I still had well founded doubts. "But how can I see you? How are you not a delusion, a figment of my imagination? Anything different than what I saw before? Your physical self, I think you used the term 'exfoliated'?" I asked.'

"Yes that's the term that it's become affiliated with."

"By who?" I was almost frantic. "You? Someone else? Besides, if you weren't a delusion before, and had actually used some power...does that mean I'm not...crazy?" I stammered at this. "What do you mean by exfoliation anyway? Isn't that something a plant does? Or a bug?" How far I'd fallen as a Doctor to ask a dead man's apparition if I'd lost my mind. The answer should have been clear, but it wasn't.'

'His glow maintained through the darkness. "It was a term used by an alternate version of myself. From another universe, which actually is based in another time. My understanding of what is known, is that every universe that exists has apparitions like myself, and once lived as well. Every individual has and always has come to live there, either by spiritual form in death, or through entering its passages through dreams. We have all existed there, at one time or another, as time has no meaning or spatial capacity there. We have all experienced it in one way, shape, or form in our realities, not knowing it was a subtle indication of a memory of what once was. A place where time and space intersect, but do not collide. That is where I am from. The Rod Patternik you see before you now."

'He gazed into the dinette's speckled surface, me hinging on his words. "This world, the one which you and I currently speak, is not the only one Dr. Clements. I don't mean another planet in orbit. I don't mean alien life. I mean realities tied to our own, based upon memories, thoughts, dreams, and deviations in any perceptible or imagined history. Created by creatures, people, like you and me. Everything they've ever done, or could do. All cultures, all people, living or dead in this world, thrive or die in others just the same, but unknowing of their impact, or their very presence in worlds such as this. I know what you saw gave you reason to question this. All the things that you remember being told by me, were given to you by a memory, of what I once was. But not by this form, or my wholly conscious living self. In death, in this form, I can distinguish it for you." he took a breath, his own words still troubling to him, even beyond the grave it seemed.'

"What you saw was a byproduct of my physical form, one that knew death came. The living minerals still clinging to life, entered you, with information of my life. Everything that I knew, with ties to everything I could be. Exfoliated, as I had said." he slowed. "But that was a different me Dr. Clements. I did not understand the things happening to me then, living or in your delusional form, as I do now. You felt it, and felt the dream that I had, every night. The dreams that plagued me now haunt you. I'm sorry for this Doctor Clements. It was something I did not understand, an ability I and those like me have. Its effects are detrimental, and something you now must shoulder. But not for much longer. The dream you had, my remaining physical self and exfoliated self making its appearance this afternoon, both things should not be possible. And yet they are. Clearly, the detective you've wanted to become is up to a task such as this."

'Drunk as I was, it was enamoring. But what could I believe? This was something beyond my own imagination, and more alluring and confiding than a delusion capable. My memory was taking the whole day in, this especially, while the whiskey became an easy hurdle. I wanted to doubt him, but couldn't find the will. "I think I need to go find that paper."

'Ghost or not, it looked like he wanted to laugh. This wasn't the Patternik I had seen. "I don't blame you, especially without your portfolio. There's probably some in the lower hallway near the boxes you passed. Unless Mrs. Whitman cleaned up more, I haven't been able to check. But hurry back, we don't have much time for whatever it is you're trying to do."

"Not much time? What does that mean?"

'His image seemed to look to the clock behind him. "When the clock strikes 9." he began.'

"What happens? Haven't I done this before?" I chuckled, just as jovial, met with Rod's gaze. "I mean you would remember right?"

"Well...no." he said softly, "And remember that I'm not actually alive now, or a delusion in your mind based upon my exfoliated cells. You're doing something that you've never done before. From what's known where I came from. This is all new." he flapped, flowing back in the seat. "Hurry back, your time left is running out. I can honestly say that the dead strive to return in droves and I was lucky to make it. It's actually seen quite like a vacation there." he smiled. "Regardless, I'm thrilled to even see the world in this form, and I'm just as intrigued as you must be to have even come this far."

'The amazement that had swept over me intensified. I knew I was taking these words too much to heart. But there was more I wanted to know, and I couldn't wait. In a blink I rose. quickly returning to the living room while Rod's blue lined eyes stayed on me. This was too real. I had to write this all down, as quickly as possible. The floor ached noisily as I nearly fell back down the staircase to the basement. There was a small stack of unopened printer paper, whose slick packaging had accrued a thick blanket of dust. I choked up, nearly sneezing as I tore the skin apart and ripped a stack of sheets out of its husk. Cradling the paper, I clutched the wall with my free hand, guiding my way back up to the living room. My eyes had finally adapted to the low light, and I stumbled back through the parlor and reseated myself at the dinette. Rod was still there, pulsing in that bluish hue.'

"Find everything you needed?" he asked as I slapped the stack of paper on the table. I nearly ripped apart my suit jacket pocket for my fountain pen, and my hand began scribbling furiously, everything I had seen. Everything written on these pages, and everything you're reading now Mary. In the very order it occurred on a separate sheet. I feel like I'm possessed, reflecting upon scrawling across blank paper, drifting in lines without margins, the words oscillating up and down. Even my thoughts about it had become mere sentences woven within.'

'My hand was still feeling the effects of drinking, but a lock had been breached in my brain. The whiskey didn't cause it. Seeing Patternik now and before, his dream, and all that his words in every form had to offer hadn't either. This was my own mind, functioning without my direction, delivering unabashed observations. Who was guiding my hand and my words even now, is anyone's guess. But before I knew it, I had assembled my visit to the hospital and my first interaction with Mrs. Whitman almost to a 't', with an interesting flair for narrative. It was also almost a blur wrapped around my pen. I didn't even know I had such capacity within me, and whatever it was, was now piloting itself as a well trained stenographer, my entire afternoon flowing through my hand to paper.'

"I must say Dr. Clements, I am amazed at what you're doing." his ghostly arms folded themselves neatly. "I would have expected you to run screaming. Or blame me for your marriage. Things that I remember you doing before."

'My pen halted briefly. "What have I done before exactly?"

'Rod shrugged. "You've mostly stormed out. Sometimes screamed at me. One time you even suggested that you were the delusion in my life." he smiled. "This is the first time I remember out of all of those times, where you actually wanted to stay and learn more. I don't know what else to say."

"So...I've done all this before?" I staggered. "Repeatedly? Even if I don't remember it?"

"Well, the reason I remember it, is because I've done it so many times before with different results. Always of course, in this form, dead, where I shouldn't have memory or capacity to remember. But I do." he shrugged. "That is where the problem truly lies. That and the Rodd-iite Brotherhood of course. You see-"

'I didn't mean to interrupt him, but my hand couldn't keep up with everything that had happened. "Please Rod I'm trying to get this all down. I don't have the portfolio, and I have no idea where Detective Glyner is, or if he's even showing up." my gaze rose from the paper upon a clock resting on the cabinet's wall, my hand stopped at the paragraph describing my earlier departure from Patternik's. It read 8:49, eleven minutes until Patternik's doomsday. My hand blurred on, and even if it was bizarre and uncanny of me, I managed to converse while it worked autonomously. "Even this, it's important even if it sounds ludicrous. You said it yourself earlier, this is something I've never done before. I don't remember any of what you've described. I've seen your dream, and whatever it illustrates, was enough to have me listen." I noticed my hand had slowed, my wrist beginning to numb from the speed. The words I had clustered together flowed across the page in flowing margins, cresting and lulling across the page's shore. Even writing this now, and briefly scanning what I had written autonomously was staggering to me.'

"Well Dr. Clements, and I do apologize for speaking again, You're thinking of solutions you had never tried before. Or even attempted to solve anything really aside from things within your own life. That is, I don't feel it, so I can't believe that you are when coupling the two factors." I took stock in what he said moments later, when I should have listened then. "Only when you believe, can you achieve. One of the things I remember arriving back here, in this form. Again, something that shouldn't be possible." he smirked again. So strange, seeing this apparition as the true self of the maniac I had seen only hours early gnaw off his own hands.'

'Writing this now, in control of my hand, I can honestly say to whoever comes to read this, that I was not in control of myself. Something had taken hold, accounting for every last bit of dialogue I had written. Thinking this briefly, compelled me to stop writing, as my hand cringed to a stop at the account of this very moment, as my hand numbed to my control. Its locomotion has dug a track of skewed letters and waving sentences across the blank pieces. Everything that has happened, everything I and anyone has said this afternoon, has been written down as though I was merely a character. A memory, a word I write now under my own control. In reflection, I can't say I'm not alarmed, but I have little or nothing left to doubt anymore, except myself. I hope you can read this Mary, or whoever comes to find this, as I have no fear in relinquishing to whatever was that had controlled me. If I am possessed, I don't care anymore. I'm letting go again, to see what will happen.'

"So, while we have time, I'd like to ask you some other things. If you would." I leaned back from the dinette and my docile, cooling pen before me. My hand had kept shaking, and it wouldn't stop, even after clasping with my left.'

"Well we don't have much, but certainly." his curt nature another oddity I hadn't experienced. Almost practiced on his part. But this was only a guess, and I barely knew the man. And he was barely the man he was.'

"Why...are you intact?" I was pretty blunt about it. "That is to say...why do you have your hands? As far as I can recall you gnawed them off. I would think in the afterlife you'd have to, well atone for the form you were left off in." the thought of Patternik, what once was, writhing on the ground made me reach for my cigarettes. My hands were more reluctant than they were to write, but I lit one of the few I had remaining, taking a deep drag before continuing. "Are you in heaven or hell?"

'He took in a deep icy breath, the smoke from my cigarette hung unaffected. "I'd say it's heaven, but only because everyone is happy." he smiled, and looked down at himself. "You must have noticed that I look different than before. Your form is a remainder of your physical self as well, minus the lack of limbs you mentioned. Byproduct of living upstairs." he said pointing up. "I'm not quite sure how it's all that different from what you saw. Did my earlier appearance have limbs as well?"

'I backtracked. "No, he had his hands." I took a firm drag, the memory of it still resonating.'

"Maybe what you saw works in the same function as, what I am now. It boils down to an individual perception when dealing with everything, but exfoliation is different." he said, his hands presenting himself silently. "Where I came from, and where I'll be again shortly, is just a place where the non-physical memory rests. Not like what you saw earlier today. Just memories. What we are, what we once were, could have been and were elsewhere." he rippled with laughter, continuing as I did my best to stay with him.'

"Did you know, in another universe I created a company that made spaceships? Or that I was a well respected Zulu warrior in another? Even history as we know it, and the very physics which define our universe, are radically different elsewhere. Green, purple, all different color skies on a daily basis being acceptable and regarded as normal. Giant pre-historic animals on some earths, lumbering alongside people! Or what we'd call them." his eyes rolled. "Tribal and sometimes dogmatic societies skewed into existence. They're all real Dr. Clements. I can tell you that much from where I was. Where I have been, is the top of the universe, in that I can literally see anywhere, anytime, at any given moment, anywhere in any universe. A glass floor beneath us to watch any and everything. And I'm not the only one there, in that we all share this form. It's incredible really." he flowed back again, his lines rippling around the chair. "I don't know any other way to describe it."

'I picked up my pen, my cigarette now resting between my left hand's knuckle. My hand ached, but wanted to write on its own, scribing the remainder of my final visit, resting now at our new words. "But here, you were just a raving mental patient?" I was still surly, and it showed. This didn't anger him at all. Dead or not, he was more patient and humble than what I had seen before.'

"Well, that itself is a problem." he frowned. "I'm not really quite sure how to explain it. At least not now.'

"Not now?" I belted, "Oh come on!" I had come this far, I was through with any apprehension. I had left everything behind just for this, and it showed. "You're not like you were before! You said you were something in my mind before, these cells, or something like it. I'm not a biologist Rod, but I know you aren't either. Apparition or not, regardless of where you're from or how my words will appear on this page, without knowing how my hand will produce them." I stumbled over myself, still shaken by what I was feeling. "Where are you getting this from? How can you even tell me about this?" I took another deep drag, the whiskey fading over my blooming semblance of logic. My hand rested the pen's tip at the point of my final arrival. It autonomously comprised an afternoon in minutes, now wanting for more.'

"The Rod Patternik you knew, here, in this universe." he began. "Was a raving lunatic. I was a raving lunatic. If that's what you want to hear."

"Well." I muttered. "This doesn't really explain everything I've seen." he reacted by glowing further in the slice of light from the window's pane.'

"I was a raving lunatic here, in this universe, because nobody could understand what I was seeing. What I was dreaming while alive." he sighed. "Medicine here, and in other worlds I remember seeing in my brief time above, doesn't treat what I've seen. What you've seen. It doesn't understand how without questioning itself." he continued on as the darkness stayed at bay. "Our memories are the problem. Mine, and those you now share. They have become manipulated, and twisted. Because of me, and others who share my form elsewhere." his glow waning, drooping in weary. "Because of memories. Because of time. Because I would see the same dreams every night, and would see the same thing, every day, right there, out that window." he nodded, over to the tainted pane. His bloody fingerprint, and the pool of blood at its base remained dry and shadowed in the low light. "It's so strange, to have seen it for so long and to not see it now."

'My fountain pen pressed into the page at ready. "What did you see?" I asked, turning to his gaze at the window. "I've seen your dream...that Nordius Prime you were referring to if I got it right. The monsters too." my mind was at its wits end without the portfolio, scanning back to my fluctuating paragraph describing it. "But what about that window? What is it that you see? Or saw that night?" His gaze at the window only deepened, and his image seemed to fade slightly into the kitchen behind him.'

"The Nordius Prime II."

'I shook my head. "I don't understand. You mean you had your dream again? The one that I saw?"

'The glow didn't dissipate. "Where my thumbprint is, on the window, is there I would see the Nordius Prime II, every night." his voice slowed, as my hand began to make notes of their own. My mind was still independent of my pen.'

"Two Nordius Primes?"

'Rod shook his head. "No, just one. It's the largest space-ship ever created, made in the form of one much smaller. It was made by another version of me, and it was sent through time, space, and dimension, to find its sister ship. The one we both saw in my dream."

"But you saw this in your dream? Or in a dream state when you had the incident with Mrs. Whitman?"

'Rod shook his head. "No Dr. Clements, in reality. I would see this ship, every day in orbit when I was alive. But it wasn't made on this world, this earth as we know it. Not this reality but another one. Another universe entirely." his finger pointed to the slim light from the bloody window. "The ship, the Nordius Prime II, was sent to help them fight something terrible. Something horrible that should never have been created."

"Something?"

'The lines in the room seemed to drift away, as a cloud began to pass over the only light in the room. The room was aglow, with the aura that pulsed from Patternik's image. "The people who made that ship, what you will see, did it to save their world. From what they were fighting, and had attacked their worlds. But every time they tried to fight it, it only grew stronger from their mistakes. Or variables introduced that the Doctor couldn't calculate. Or wouldn't."

"The Doctor?" I began. "I think you referred to this character as Doctor Bandever? Did you know him in this life?"

'His face winced, a feat difficult for a ghost. "He was a character alright. He was me Dr. Clements. That is to say that he is me, just from another world. A completely different world at that."

'I was losing him again. "I don't follow. Was he from the universe that built that ship?"

'He shook his head. "No."

"He was from a different universe than even that?"

'His eyes moved upwards. "Different in such a way, that it is solely responsible for what has happened."

'My pen wafting steam. "Can you elaborate? Please Rod, we both know I've come this far." his calmness reflecting upon me.'

'He took a deep sigh, "Doctor Bandever is the leader of the Rodd-iites, as you may or may not have known. But he's not like any of the Rodd-iites I remember from my dream. Or is anything like me." he paused. "In death, I didn't see him in the next realm, even though his apparition appeared like mine in a dream I recall having while alive. I don't know really." he shook his head. "But it's probably one of the reasons I always die here, or one of them. On this world, and never go aboard that ship."

"But why?" I was curious. "You've seen this all your life. It seems like it was something you were supposed to do. Why would you balk at that when confronted with what little you had here?"

'His face brightened. "What little?" he began. "Dr. Clements, this world, while it is controlled and withered from what it once was, is still a world nonetheless. It has just as many good things to present as it does bad. Many worlds do, and from who I have met in this form, I can honestly say that no world is perfect. At least based upon perception. I didn't value that alive, and could never seem to remember to every time this has happened."

'My hand now dictating our words to paper, the portfolio becoming a lost cause. "But why couldn't you Rod? I understand that concept all too well, and I try to help people. Even now, with my life ruined, as apparent as it is, I'm still here." my pen coming to a grinding halt. "I mean you knew about my family. Did you know that I care about them? How much they mean to me now, even if I can't see them?" my eyes upon his glazed blue figure. "Why did you give up? Why couldn't you stay?"

'His eyes closed, and his glow pulsed with soft light. "It's because I was never meant to be here Dr. Clements. To have lived this long, to have been this way."

"Rod please I think-"

"Please, let me finish." my focus and question diverted. "In death, there is no judgment. No fear. No differences, perceived or tangible." he paused. "In fact, it would be as close to heaven as you could get. For anyone really. Entering any memory that was created at any time, by you or anyone else. Seeing worlds and places you'd never see. Never feeling alone." his eyes opened. "It was a beautiful experience to be a part of once, and that once lasts for what you'd conceive as both eternity and not."

"But that doesn't explain why you'd just, give up on life Rod. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder Rod. As you said, this universe isn't perfect, but it's one nonetheless. One you were part of, where your presence was valued, even if you didn't know it. It doesn't seem to justify your desire to leave it."

'His gaze intensified, but didn't harden. "Doesn't it?" he asked, turning to the window, his eyes widening onto the deserted street outside. "Out there, is a real world, with real people. Tangible is all they know. They're unaware of what they're capable of, which is anything. It's why they're so incredible, but so terrifying. And they have no idea what is in store for them, which is the most incredible thing to behold." his eyes fell back upon the table. "In this realm, there is no memory. No pain, no worry, things people here waste eons regretting, pursuing, or fearing. Upstairs, up above, "he said pointing up, "Is only happiness. Warmth and fond smells, things I took for granted here but are always present when I'm there. It was better than any world that I wouldn't be able to function in anyway. It was better than any drug that could be prescribed." he smirked, his figure pulsing still. "There's no need for it, since you could access any memory you'd like. Living in the past was open to perception, but you could lead any life you wanted. In any universe." his face tightened, and his resonating blue hue gloomed unexpectedly, "But something happened which changed all that.'

'My hand ached to keep up now. "What happened?"

'His eyes slimmed, and the aura that had glowed began to fade. "What should have never been in that realm, came to be. The world which was inhabited by those like me, what you see before you, changed."

"How?"

"Memory." he sighed deeply, me still not feeling his presence. "Memory of what once was began to take hold. But not observed, or returned to. Those who dwelled from across each universe, began to experience their own lives again in death. Uncontrollable, striking individuals and creating divide. The silence and unity that bonded that realm, began to question itself. Who we were then, based upon what we were. What we know as the harbor, that souls and essences across space and dimension dwell, began to fray." his words digging into himself, pausing for a moment. "I am evidence of what has happened Dr. Clements. I am here before you, altering this world, every universe and introducing you as a variable once more. But not by choice of my own. My self, that is to say Doctor Bandever, as well as many other versions of myself, are responsible for it."

'This was a lot to process, especially with the sincerity which he delivered. But my doubts lingered. "I don't understand. You say we all experience this place, and are free of our own memories, yet can experience any we choose to later?"

'He nodded. "Yes."

'My hand began to make a separate grid on another blank sheet. "But you can remember your own memories there now?"

"Yes."

"But if you could experience your memories like before, what is the difference between remembering your own individual memories, and experiencing them as you had mentioned?" It seemed like a good enough question, but it's clear that I had missed something. Perhaps I was being too specific, or literal. His face turned to the window from the table, off through the window's pane.'

"The night you came to know me, or who I was based upon a person, was because of an accident. Something that happened because I was scared. Terrified of what I was seeing finally taking hold."

'My pen scribbled on, "The incident with Mrs. Whitman?"

'He frowned as his gaze continued far into his bloody print. "I remember waking up, and coming into the kitchen to get a glass of water. For once I hadn't had a dream, Dr. Devaroux's prescriptions working their own magic." he smirked. "But everything around me began to change."

"Change?"

"The walls, the room, the windows as you see them. The doors, the hedges outside, even the street began to pulsate. Hum with this deafening whir that wouldn't go away. It started the minute I began to take a drink, and when I turned I saw it all."

'My hand hung at the ready. "What was it that you saw Rod." I needed to know. "Tell me."

'His eyes widened and his ghostly face seemed to tighten. "I had never been aboard the ship Dr. Clements, aside from my dreams. But if you saw my dream, the one I had every night, you'd know what I saw." his voice echoed through a crack. "The enemy. The unspeakable evil that the Rodd-iites were enacted to destroy by Doctor Bandever. SOLSA. The SOL Strategic Alliance was here, on my world." he took a shaken breath. "Everything outside began to melt. All that I saw as solid, became like what I had seen, what we have seen. Clumps, ripples of it seeped in through the faucet and cabinets before me. I began to back up towards the window, that one there. Everything outside had begun to change, and melt. Small slugs began to pool from everything, as the Nordius Prime II still hung in the sky overhead. It began to come through the window jams, crawling everywhere as I backed from the window. One had slicked up from the floor and began to climb my leg, and I screamed. I couldn't stop screaming Dr. Clements."

"Screaming?" I was skeptical. "Mrs. Whitman didn't mention anything about screaming, or hearing or seeing anything besides you getting up."

"She wouldn't have Dr. Clements. At least from what I know from being above." his figure's border thickened with blue light. "There is a device, many actually, which SOLSA uses for its own gain. The device in particular was created by a company, which my alternative self controlled. It allows for the transfer of energy into a shield, which renders it invisible. What was known by many I've talked to as Phasic mode. Except it was done wrong."

"Wrong?" my pen scrawled up to my question.'

"It was only supposed to be designed to hide things. Camouflage them. But in the hands of SOLSA, it uses it to hide themselves, and it deafens those who can't see them. They've twisted the technology with what they are to make that effect." he sighed, "Mrs. Whitman, and others could never see what I saw, and whatever happened to me that night changed me. That night she couldn't hear me scream because of what I was becoming. From what I saw that night, entering a new phase." he glowed. "Only because of my dreams, who I am here and elsewhere, did I even know they were there all along."

'My notes on this had become a structured grid of the events in question. Things still didn't sit right, and the clock had jumped ahead six minutes; 8:55, with five minutes to go. I didn't know why I felt it so ominous but I didn't know what would happen. "What about the knife? The knife that you cut Mrs. Whitman with?" my question seemed to have jostled him further, but I couldn't abate. "Rod please I know this is asking a lot, but you wanted me to listen. I need to hear everything that happened. Where did you even get a knife? And how did you manage to escape from this house, without so much as leaving a trail when you did? What did you, jump through a closed door?" His hands clasped and he glowed as he replied.'

"The knife I had was as your delusion was. The door was as real as the knife."

'This didn't make sense to me. "What does that mean? The door is solid, and it's not a delusion. The knife wasn't here, and yet that wasn't a delusion either?" I was flabbergasted. "How did it hurt her? My delusion, the you I saw before, couldn't be seen by her. And couldn't be heard."

'He nodded, a saddened expression across his face. "Another effect of the SOLSA controlled device. Because of the exfoliation, you could see my apparition, your delusion. If I hadn't attempted to do so when I had died, none of this would have been possible. Our conversation, any of this." his glow spastically grew and shrunk as the hour drew closer to 9. He said that almost like it was the end of the world. Maybe it was.'

"Because of what my alternate selves have done, the Rodd-iites, what SOLSA has done, what has been happening to all of us, without remembering, allowed me to think of that knife to make it real. It allowed me to think of passing that door and down through the streets to make it real. I literally turned into a speck that night Dr. Clements. Flying through the air, weightless, the world monolithic around me. It was incredible."

"But what about the knife Rod? What about Mrs. Whitman?" the gravity of every of his words was beginning to sink in, but it just didn't seem like the man I saw here before me in spirit, could do something like that to someone who cared for him. Who knew him well.'

"It wasn't supposed to happen that way." he said, his gaze back through the window. "When I had been attacked by the melting room and the outside seeping in, I thought of attacking it. Lashing out. And when I did, a knife appeared in my hand." he shrugged. "So I cut at all of them. Every last one that I saw crawling across me. If you knew what they looked like you'd understand. Grey slugs that dive inside of you any way they can, that nobody else could see. Hive minded chemicals come alive, controlled like invisible ants. Seeing them crawl across this room and surging at me was horrifying. When I was alive then, I knew about something from my dreams. But they were just dreams to me then Dr. Clements. Not real. Not like that."

"That moment, right then, was when I finally had felt I couldn't escape Dr. Clements. I was finally cornered, in my own house. It's why I sliced at what I saw, even if the knife just appeared in my hand. Why I was slicing at myself and cut Mrs. Whitman." he spoke softly, as the room itself seemed to darken, aside from the pale line of light. "From what I know, from what I've seen and heard especially being where I was, I know each of us, in any universe, experiences something common. Something that's branded as animalistic, or crude." he dimming image seemed to choke. "You feel penned. Trapped. That anything that could have been, anything that was, or anything you would be is gone. Forever."

'These words weren't new to me, and he went on with my pen tailing. "All creatures, feel this. It's a fear, a lingering one that has many names and faces, suited to bear against any. All being in any universe, the millions I've conversed with where I was, where time and space have no presence or understanding, aside from what is observed in universes, like ones we're from. In the place where I've been, I had a lengthy conversation with a platypus of all things, but only because of where we were, not because there's a platypus universe that I'm aware of, or that we can even understand platypus here." his smile glowed. "But this universe. This one was mine. This universe here." he seemed proud, his glow intensifying to the room's corners.'

"But it's a feeling, an instinct." he pressed before my hand even wavered. "It's something that is left behind with our physical form when we die. An emotion based upon a chemical reaction, a natural physical occurrence, but one that shouldn't exist where I've been." his expression waned as he continued. "The moment I had cut across myself, seeing only those creatures, and then Mrs. Whitman, did the room go quiet, and back to solid. The grey SOLSA slugs disappeared. Nordius Prime II vanished from the moon's light, and I pressed my thumb against the pane, right there. Where I'd see it, every night." he nodded to the window and back to me. "The only thing I could hear was myself breathing, and the wind outside. I was covered in blood Dr. Clements, both my own and Mrs. Whitman's. But I laughed. I felt freed. I laughed and nearly bounced out through the door. Reduced myself to a speck and vanished down the block as a wisp of dust."

'Things still didn't add up. "What about the hospital Rod? You were safe. Why did you kill yourself if you were free of seeing anything like that ever again?"

'His glow didn't abate, and his reaction to the question was far more sedate than I had anticipated. "I was in the hospital room, and I felt safe. I felt as though I couldn't be bothered anymore by what I would see. I felt horrible about what had happened to Mrs. Whitman, and it was just as awful to be locked away forever. But you don't understand Dr. Clements. The same things, the same dreams, the same memories for an entire life repeating themselves. It felt different, it felt new. And then they came back."

"They?"

'His glow remained strong. "The slugs, SOLSA. They began crawling across everything. All over the room's walls, the door, everything. I did my best to scream, but there was no one to hear, just like Mrs. Whitman. I did the only thing I could try to do, which was escape."

'My pen seemed to wriggle at this. "By gnawing your own arms off?"

"I was restrained Doctor, even you could see that. Imagine being cornered by something you knew to be more than simply a delusion, and had no way to escape. I did the only thing I could Doctor. I bit them apart, and crawled as far as I could. The feeling wouldn't abate, they had trapped me again." his expression tensed. "It was also the only reason I exfoliated into you. It was the only choice I could think of as I lay there dying."

'This was too much, I didn't know where to begin, and I still had doubts. "People, don't just do that Rod." the pen and my hand unmoved. "You don't just leap and turn into a molecule to fly around. You don't just, take over someone's body. It doesn't work that way, only in fiction." Delusion or not, even my logic had its limits. But this was beyond a psychotic episode, on either of our parts. The room remained dark, and he went on with a steady tone.'

"It's because of what is happening that allowed it to happen Dr. Clements. Has always allowed it to happen, every time. My alternate selves, SOLSA, time and space letting them both to thrive cultivated its growth as time went on. Made the effects stronger, of what can be seen and done. I know that now, but I didn't then." he sighed. "Even after I had just jumped back into my form, still covered in blood I didn't care. I was free from the obligation, free from seeing whatever it was." he sighed. "But I wasn't. Not in the slightest. You and I, are both proof of that Dr. Clements."

"Me?" I was even more taken aback. "You mean because of what I've seen? From what happened this afternoon?"

'He nodded. "Yes Dr. Clements. That's why I've also come." his face sterner. "Memory, should not exist where I've been, unless it's shared. The shared ideas as a whole, bond all souls in unity. There is nothing that shouldn't be known where I have been. But a deviation occurred, and that's only part of what is happening now." his figure seemed weakened. "What you've already been through, will always go through time and time again, and what is at stake where I've been, requires me to come. Based upon what you saw, and were exfoliated with. Again I'm sorry for how this happened, and what you must be thinking now, but try to understand. While we still have time."

"As I had mentioned moments ago, all of us have different versions of ourselves which interact within their own universes. All of our souls, or what you'd call this form in comparison to the other, merge at the same plane. I'd say that pen in your hand was a fine example of just what things we cannot understand, can do." His words stopped, as my pen went on, and for the first time I genuinely felt fear at what my hand was writing truly implied, my thought still transcribed to paper as though I was merely in the room.'

"What does this have to do with anything? This may not be explainable by me but it's certainly not like what you're implying. Not even close Rod." I patted out the dying cigarette's embers into the floor. Callous as I was, I was trying to stay focused. "What I saw was a delusion. I know that much. What you are is anyone's guess, but more than likely it's just the same, only a different color. I should be on my way to the hospital anyway, and the minute Glyner gets here and can't see you I will. I felt it necessary to give whatever I saw, and whatever you are, a reasonable doubt, which extends now more than I'm willing to permit." I felt tempted to reach for another cigarette when I stopped myself. My mind had clicked during my rant.'

"What about Doctor Devaroux?"

'His image hummed. "What about him?"

"Why didn't he know about any of this?"

"He did, I told him."

'I didn't have my portfolio, but I knew Devaroux already from reading it. He was incompetent, without any depth in notations, and more than likely a pill pusher on the side. "His record, the portfolio I was given, made no mention of what you're saying. Your exfoliation as you call it, was more revealing and insightful in less than an hour with me, than your entire time on earth with him. You talked to him for years, why wouldn't he pay attention?"

'He spindled his glowing hands together on the table top. "Dr. Devaroux knew more than he admitted on formal records. Being here, or at least from death itself with the luxury of infinite memory of this universe, grants me that much. He was affiliated with a group in this universe, one that seems to exist in many, in one shape or another."

'I almost tied my own tongue. "The Enclave of Logic?" I really needed a cigarette now.'

'Rod nodded. "His work with the Enclave of Logic here, allowed the universe to take hold as it has." his aura hummed lightly over his words. "My existence, as it has played out, would never have come to be without him. Or his work."

'If I was wanted by the police or not, it didn't matter. The connection, the bond between Glyner's work and Patternik was Devaroux. All this time, he had been playing the system, shielding Rod from attention, or view. "But why? Why would he do that?"

'He shrugged. "I guess it's because of who I am in another universe."

'Something didn't sit right here. The connection to what Glyner saw was too troubling to simply write off to Devaroux pursuing Patternik's demons. "Where is Dr. Devaroux now?" my pen caught up to my question. "If he's the connection to this, where can I find him?"

'Rod's pale face was firmed. "He's dead."

"What?"

'Just as I asked, the kitchen's clock hit 9 o'clock. The chimes resting in its back were shrill, and began to count upwards from 1. "We don't have much time Dr. Clements, please, I just need to you remember three things. Writing them down will help, but saying them to you will ensure that what you remember will enter relational memory. So it will be recalled after you die."

"Die? Wait a minute, what about Dr. Devaroux? What did he know?" I grappled. "And how did he die since you seem to know?" as the clock struck its third bell and my pen struggled to keep up.'

"It's not important. He was killed because of what he knew, and what they found out when they always have. They always find out where I am Dr. Clements, no matter how long Dr. Devaroux attempted to hide me."

"Who Rod? Who finds you?" The clock's chime struck it's 5th chord as Rod's glowing lines began to dim. "What's happening to you Rod? What's going on?"

"It's not important now Dr. Clements, this is how it has always occurred." the blueness of his figure beginning to wane. "Remember these three things to produce the change. You must remember these three things." he began as my pen waited at the ready. "Do not believe your senses when you arrive where you're going." he tallied off his on ghostly hand as the clock struck its seventh. "Trust the one they call 359, and do not trust the words of Dr. Rod Bandev-" his voice and image crackled out, fizzing into nothingness like a television screen gone blank. The blue glow had dissipated completely, the lines of where he sat faded into the air. He was just gone. The clock struck its 9th bell, and the tone echoed through the kitchen and empty dining room, ringing for just me, alone in Patternik's house.'

'I don't know what to expect, or what do to, but I did know what I had written. Scanning over it, writing with my own hand as I do now, it's staggering. Where did my effort come from? How did it race as it had, using my hand as a vehicle for its notations and surpassed my own perceived capacities. That's something which seemed to be common today. I knew you were right then Mary when I came to see you. I don't even need to write down what you said. Even drunk and covered in vomit as I was, I knew it. Everything I had done, everything I'm even doing now was just because of me. Not for you, or Simon. I've been selfish this whole time, arrogant too. I really didn't deserve anything you could offer. I wanted to stay and try to talk to you again. But I had leave before the police came. They'd never side with a raving, bile-stained drunk. I hope that whatever happens, you know that I do care, and never did stop. But this is just beyond me, and if Rod, whatever I saw is right, and whatever happened with my hand, what I've written, and everything I've seen is connected, then I have no choice anymore Mary. I've lost you and Simon, but I can't lose this.'

'There's a knock at the door now Mary. I'm terrified. I don't know who it is, but if it's Glyner, I'm going to the hospital, and bringing these pages with me. If it's not, I don't know what will happen. I hope whoever reads this, finds something that they can do with it. Find Dr. Devaroux. Find Detective Frank Glyner, and find out what is happening here. Tell my wife Mary and my son Simon I never stopped caring about them, and I love them. I don't know what else I can do, other than this.'

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WE INTERRUPT YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING TO BRING YOU THIS ABC NEWS SPECIAL BULLETIN. WE NOW TAKE YOU LIVE TO ABC NEWS HEADQUARTERS WITH PETER JENNINGS.

<Peter Jennings> Good afternoon, moments ago, authorization was given by PTEKK International under accordance with the UN Earth Defense Act of 1994, to begin green light maneuvers as preparation against an impending SOLSA attack. PTEKK Operators affiliated with the NorAmeriComm, EuroComm, and AfriComm divisions, will be activated at 8:40 eastern standard time. Operators affiliated with the SoAmeriComm divisions, are to await further instructions given through licensed and integrated terminals. Again, Operators affiliated with the NorAmeriComm, EuroComm, and AfriComm divisions are to report to designated terminal facilities, or their own stations for instructions. SoAmeriComm divisions will receive additional instructions as to their maneuvers momentarily. Again, we apologize for the interruption, and return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

THIS HAS BEEN A SPECIAL PRESENTATION OF ABC NEWS. WE NOW RETURN YOU TO YOUR PROGRAM, IN PROGRESS.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EPILOGUE:

/run komm.exe

.autodebug

.loading subroutines

.searching for Neural_Conn_Interface...

.1 found

Komm_Bot_Interface active.

/run kommcommand.exe

.loading path

.searching for designated command module...

.1 found

.path ragecakescommand4A_JD

/run ragecakescommand4A_JD

.loading...

.Komm-Bot Command Module

.Designation: Ragecakes

.Registry Block: 4A-JD NorAmeriComm

.command path recognized 453_A72_C

/run ragecakescommand4A_JD.path453_A72_C

.loading...

.clearance granted.

.ragecakescommand4A_JD active.

.komm.exe systems active.

.komm_scan.exe active.

.komm_target.exe. active.

.komm_cam.exe active.

.ptekk_diary1.0.exe active.

/run neuralconn.exe

.loading...

<friend.tar_1>"-nd there. That should do it. Not to worry gentlemen I'm accustomed to simple diagnostics and repairs, even if it involved tampering with this Komm-Bot to help. do...Alright that should get its systems up and running. Normally the Nordius Prime's computer would load this landing vessel with new Komm-Bots but this will have to do...I forgot about earlier...They're still covered in this grime and these thick vines, I haven't even cleaned these since they were running with us on your world 859...Alright, alright. I know you may be upset and confused by all that has happened. It's safe to say that I am too. As I said I don't really understand the specifics of what we're dealing with."

<friend.tar_2>"It does seem that way."

<friend.tar_1>"Please RhadNhe, as stressful as it has become you must bear with me. I can still manage to make the Komm-Bots function as we need them. The Nordius Prime's computer will manage to fix the translator problem aboard...Besides I can understand your words here on this Kommissar Cargo. Even 859's are coming through perfectly...well, when he talks anyway. It's only the damage to the main ship that prevents us from being able t-"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe>"We're not on your ship any longer Doctor Bandever! We do not need to understand your words simply to determine what is happening! Why have you dragged us to another earth when you have explained nothing as to what we are supposed to be doing?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please calm down."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe>"Why does this earth matter Doctor? Who is here? Why did we flee from SOLSA? Why didn't we stay and attack them? Even this smaller ship, and the others we have aboard have weapons that even you were not aware of! Why not use them?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"662...RhadNhe, those are all very reasonable questions. I assure you will be able to answer them in good time."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Good time? We are far from times that are good Doctor Bandever!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"That was an expression RhadNhe. Please allow me to explain-"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"That is all we have asked! You may resemble those of us here, and may think you know what is best for us! But my warriors and I came to fight SOLSA, and you forced us to flee! Why? We are entitled to know all that you do!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"There were factors at work that I wasn't aware of."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Factors?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"He means that it's-"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"I did not ask you! I asked him!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Gentlemen... Please?...Your warriors needn't be riled, our enemy is not here, everything is fine...Aside from the close quarters. On that note, I'd also like to apologize for the cramped conditions, I didn't anticipate that we'd all be going to the surface...If you don't mind- I'd like to get to the contro-...urk-...thank you...As I was saying, the Komm-Bot block seen here should suffice any conflict we should encounter below. The Nordius Prime should be safe while we're gone, and our descent has already gone smoothly hasn't it?...See?...Nothing to worry about gentlemen."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"So, what's this earth like?"

<friend.tar._1_Doctor_Bandever>"Much like your own actually. High amount of satellite coverage in the upper atmosphere, large cities much like in your universe, almost the same really...this is very odd though..."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What is strange? What is going on?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Nothing is wrong RhadNhe, we're still undetectable, this world isn't advanced enough to overcome Phasic mode."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Wait...we have that aboard right now?...I didn't....I'm sorry Doctor Bandever."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Why apologize to him? Why do you quiver at him?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"RhadNhe please stop being so berating. The technology we have at our disposal keeps us safe and will continue to. It's simply Mr. Andrews's reaction to the capacity of technology at our disposal."

<friend.tar.2_RhadNhe_662>"This does not explain why we even need these devices to begin with! I've already seen and fought them while they brutalized my world! And now I cower alongside them, running away from our enemy? Why did you flee instead of attacking Doctor Bandever? Why are we even here?"

<friend.tar.1_Doctor_Bandever>"I am getting to that, if you'll allow me to...Thank you. As the result of something SOLSA has done, it has affected our ability to track them, because of two things I didn't predict. Using TransFlash to find all of you to defeat SOLSA originally, alters more than just the photons left over in their wake. Additionally, something is altering time and space, and SOLSA itself seems to be the best culprit. I'm still not aware of many aside from doing what I know to be best."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Not aware? You've brought us here, and across these, dimensions, and you're unaware? How? You've mishandled this Doctor Bandever! We should return to where we came from, leave this earth's orbit, and go back where SOLSA was! To fight them where we had already witnessed their presence!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...RhadNhe, do you speak for all your compatriots?...I know you speak for your warriors as they too want to fight. But do you speak for others? The Rodd-iites you know from beyond anything you knew before any of this?...That is to say, do you speak for 859?...Or Mr. Andrews here? Haven't my judgments led us far enough to be trusted?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"I do not speak for these strangers! They do not speak for me! I speak for my people here cramped inside this vessel! I speak for those on my world, decimated by an enemy you cowered from! I and mine deserve explanation, and return to our earth! We can at least fight SOLSA alongside our own people, who will not balk at the challenge!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"When we first met, you seemed to look as though they'd just forgotten you. Your people I mean."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Still your tongue lapdog, since that's all you ever seem to be! And how would you know of my world? You never walked on it, or felt its earth beneath your feet. Even your soles are covered with a skin of animal you wouldn't know!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Hey these shoes are pure adder-skin!...And...yes...you're right I've never walked on your world...I was mistaken."

<friend.tar_4>"The shoes I made are better!"

<friend.tar_5>"Shut your trap Dern!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Gentlemen..."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You and he would never know my world. Know your place if you want none at all!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Gentlemen, please! Please be patient... I've led you this far, I wouldn't lead you astray simply on a whim. We've already managed to disembark without incident, and without issue. The Nordius Prime is safe, and is engaged in self-repair, one of the few things I managed to activate. The translator module itself is still damaged, and the attack from the other ship requires the diagnostic computer's immediate attention."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What of this world then? Why are we even here if not to fight SOLSA?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"The last thing I managed to see before the computer system froze completely, was this was not only somewhere the Nordius Prime had tracked SOLSA to, but had also managed to find another Rodd-iite, and tracked its mineral base as it tracked yours. He may one you have encountered before through memory, or this dream realm Mr. Andrews has described. It's worth a look in my opinion, being that you're all here and quite...well actual."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Based upon instinct? Only this and nothing more?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...Correct."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Solely upon that? This is reckless! Why even bother when SOLSA can be found elsewhere?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"It does seems a little thin Doctor Bandever. I-...never mind."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"...There. That there, what is that?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"What is what RhadNhe?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You, 285 if that is your name, or his word for you. Why do you pick at your ear? You've done that many times, including since we left your mother ship! Do you have fleas under such thin hair, biting to quell your own tongue?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"...Are you implying I don't wash or something? I'm wearing seven-thousand dollar suit and look a hell of a lot better than you. Even my shoes are cleaner!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"A man who walks upon snakes cannot be trusted!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Gentlemen that is enough! 28...Mr. Andrews is as knowledgeable regarding events as both you and I. Circumstances themselves have been altered in such a way that even to me, is unexplainable."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Circumstances that reveal no truth?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1> "Calm down, it's cramped enough in here without yelling."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You allowed us to be brought here! You and your ally sharing technology that no doubt caused all of this to happen! Return us to our own world at once!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please RhadNhe there are other things that must be addressed first. As I explained you must be patient. There are factors in play that demand immediate attention as the result of variables that even I couldn't have possibly considered. SOLSA has managed to dilate time and space, a subject I'm not familiar with."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"But why bring us here? Why bring us to this world? Your large words may have carried you to space, and where we are now, but what do they mean to us? What will one more Rodd-iite do that we cannot?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Another variable in our favor wouldn't be a negative thing when fighting SOLSA would it?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What of it? What difference does it make from what happened before? How can you wield weapons like these metal lifeless statues without knowing how to control them? Or use the ship to fly as you had before? You did not even know our vessel had weapons to fight SOLSA? How could you build such a device and not know anything of it, and be willing to drag more of us, from other worlds into this?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I already explained I'm not a scientist, or even a technician of sorts, it was only a hobby."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"This fight is a hobby to you?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"No, no...It's an expression. I think the translator still has a few problems."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You know nothing of what we fight, do you? They use the exact same devices you claim to have created, and you do not know! Some doctor you are! A white-coated madman, piloting a ship he cannot even repair or understand! Accompanied by a spineless slick-clothed coward!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Control yourselves!...Tha-...That's enough!...As 2-...Mr. Andrews said, it's already cramped enough in here without having one person trying to climb across the entire cabin for a senseless fight! Behave yourselves, we'll be landing shortly on the surface...I can't believe this is what it's come to! Fighting against one another who bear a striking resemblance? Arguing over semantics when we must rally what we can to fight this this...monster?...Why has it come to this? Why?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"We hadn't anticipated going anywhere until you and your, lapdog here arrived. Don't think I do not notice how you toy with that bracelet, or how you both use your own technology for whatever you desire, however you manage so without knowing so much as a trifle of how it functions. Why does this ship, the larger one as well resemble SOLSA Doctor Bandever? Why do these, Komm-Bots as you call them, resemble what I fought? What my world fought? Where did these creations really come from?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I told you that I'd explain everything at the right time. These creations, the ones you see here, were made on 28-...Mr. Andrews's world. Those used by SOLSA are anyone's guess. It's safe to assume that they somehow gained control of them, since our previous encounter suggests they managed to overcome the perils of traversing time and space."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"How do you know? How can you be sure? You cannot even properly use this ship, or the other, let alone half of whatever it is else that you make without knowing. You mocked 285 earlier for not knowing what, products, he had made. Whatever that term means. But you yourself do not even understand these weapons! How can you not be judged in the same fashion?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...I'll admit you have a point, even if I helped to inspire the majority of what was created on his world."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Doctor I don't mind. Don't cave to him, we did him a favor and he can't grasp what you've helped us to do."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You allow him to speak for you?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"I'd rather him than you!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Stop that!...Stop this fighting! What would happen if SOLSA appeared now on the horizon right now?"

<friend.tar_2_RhaNhe_662>"We would fight!"

<friend.tar_6>"To the death!"

<friend.tar_7>"Death to SOLSA!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I doubt you would!...You're crammed into this ship with the rest of us, bickering over where to go! We'd be blown to smithereens before we could formulate a strategy!...Look gentlemen, I understand this is a lot to believe. I know that trusting me and each other has given rise to conflict and grievance!...I shouldn't ask that you remain to fight alongside together, and if this should turn to prove unfruitful, than I'll repair the Nordius Prime fully to return you all to your respective worlds. All I ask is that you give me a chance, and remain calm. The time will come with SOLSA will emerge again, and I'd rather we all work together!...Now...We've almost reached the surface, and we shouldn't remain long anyway."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"You're sure we won't be detected?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"The Phasic mode is still active. It certainly doesn't appear as though there's much in a change of technology except..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What is it?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Well...much of the continents' structure is that of your world Rod. Much the same actually...There are multiple crater marks across the Midwest of the United States, or the continent anyway, along with much of China, Russia, the Gulf Peninsula...But these craters...These marks across the countries...It looks as though they've been..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Bombed..."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"By SOLSA?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"No...No it looks like this is different. Different being the same as it's been without SOLSA. A war happened here, that much is clear."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What about the Rodd-iite signal or signature you were talking about? How did you know about that?...Oh I should have been surprised that newspaper again."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please Rod not now."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"That again? This is intolerable!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"This newspaper, has carried us this far."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"But where did it come from? Where are you getting this information? We have a right to know!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...I'm afraid I cannot-"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You cannot tell anything but a lie you mean!...You! I can understand the sheen suited lapdog he has on hand."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What? Hey!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Stay your tongue since resting is all it's good for!...You! You came from another world, different from theirs. Why do you tolerate their madness? Or even their words? This has gone too far!"

<friend.tar_5>"I don't wanna hear it. I don't want to be involved."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You are involved already! SOLSA was on your world as well, clandestinely at that! They killed your friends, and your steed-"

<friend.tar_5>"I killed Rawksy. I did."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You did not! You did merely what was necessary! Because of the madness on your world brought without your knowledge! You are as responsible for the deaths of those on your world, as you are for merely existing! You did not kill them! I and my warriors were not responsible for the deaths on my world! But these two, these...shadows, could have easily been responsible for that and more!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What are you talking about?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"How can you deny the similarities?...The ship, that attacked my world, was a mirror image of the one we traversed across space. The one you arrived in to pick up me. The devices you use, these Komm-Bots, were the same that I fought on my world, with their infernal chirping."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Actually that's their method of communication under normal funct-"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"The words of the Doctor being mashed into our ears in dream and life? Our compatriots being unable to understand one another, aside from that of the whim or desire of you two?...Why do you keep us in the dark and demand our loyalty? What do you have to hide that you cannot reveal to us? Why do you intentionally leave us without knowledge?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"And we've...arrived...That brief feeling you experienced was us safely coming to a landing on a deserted street in a city called...Cleveland Ohio...hmm."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What of it? What does this Cleveland matter at all?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Cleveland?...My god..."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"You were from here correct Rod?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Answer me!"

<friend.tar_5>" Will you be quiet?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"...You favor them over semblance? Their insanity over sound reason?"

<friend.tar_5>"I don't owe them any favors!...And the only sound I'm hearing is you crying."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You...You're all ludicrous!...Savage and unbridled maniacs!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"RhadNhe please. I've already made mention of taking you and your warriors back to your world once we leave here. I will stand by my words, you have my promise."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Your words carry water like a grain of salt!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...Salt is what makes up the earth isn't it?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"...You bait words, and slip your words, slithering your tongue like a snake. You should be more enraged at your companion, who wears your kind on his feet!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What did I do to make you so angry? What did he do? Any of us?...Honestly? What was it?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Rod, no."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You affiliate with him! Him! That Doctor if he even earned such a title. Someone we cannot trust and does not understand what he does!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Gentlemen."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_VI>"I don't understand the problem anymore 662! You're just looking for a reason to rile everyone up because you're confused and upset! Who isn't?...Since I met Doctor Bandever, everything in my life has gotten better! My job, my world, everything!...If he hadn't arrived, and SOLSA had still come and attacked my world, and yours, who would you have to blame then? Him? When he didn't even exist to cause whatever you think happened?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You have both been using us, all of us to suffice some strange and bizarre gain when we should be protecting our worlds by pursuing SOLSA!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"He's already said you can leave once we're done here! We don't need you if you don't want to be patient, or be willing to wait at all! If all you can think of is bloodshed, then why don't you take that spear, and stick it up your-"

<friend.tar_5>"Shut up!...All of you, shut up!...Stop your breathin'..."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"...859 Do not defend their-"

<friend.tar_5_859>"Shut...up..."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...So...as I was saying gentlemen...we've arrived on a new world, and our stay will be brief. At the end of this expedition we will return to the Nordius Prime which will hopefully have completed some of its diagnostic systems without any of my help."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>*inaudible*

<friend.tar_5_859>"Will you just shut...your...mouth?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"859, RhadNhe,....I know we're all cramped into this Kommissar. I know I haven't let you in on much of what I know. But it's simply because I myself do not understand it fully yet, and must take the time to do so...If you've trusted me this far, and have seen what this technology can do even without my assistance, at least give me the time to, to...decipher whatever this all means!...I ask that much gentlemen, and I will stand by my words RhadNhe, I will deposit you, and your warriors back into your world once we leave this world. Just allow me the opportunity to see if this world can offer any clues to what we must face...Agreed?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>*inaudible*

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Agreed gentlemen?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Fine by me."

<friend.tar_5_859>"Better than where I was."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"RhadNhe?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"...Agreed."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Do you speak for your warriors here as well? I don't want there to be any misgivings or misunderstandings."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>*inaudible* "There will be no disagreements. My warriors will follow my words, but mine alone Doctor."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Fine...How about your...your friends 859? Are they complacent with our objectives as a whole?"

<friend.tar_5_859>"What?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Alright, so we're in agreement. I'll do my best, just understand that we're still in the dark regarding much of this. I need your patience, all of you."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Speaking of which...how long have we been sitting here arguing?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Not long. The Phasic mode of the shield system allowed us to remain unnoticed. Even sound itself will not permeate through...It doesn't look like there's activity, or neighbors at all for that matter. I was expecting more of a problem with landing on a world without our technology, or anything advanced like it."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What? You think people will believe we're aliens or something Doctor?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I wouldn't rule out the possibility."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What do we do now?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...Well...We're at the exact location of where the signal was, where the Nordius Prime had detected it...But it's ghostly out there...Almost a wasteland. Let's go out to see what we can find."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Thank god!"

<friend.tar_5_859>"Get me outta here!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Wait!...We shouldn't reveal our presence. We mustn't go noticed."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"How else can we find more?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"He's right."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Alright...Alright fine. But only those of us with Panels, that means that myself, 285, 859, and 662 will go. The Panels themselves will keep you shielded for whatever we may encounter. The Komm-Bots themselves are capable of Phasic-mode on their own and will accompany us via the cargo duct. Everyone else must remain in the craft."

<friend.tar_7>*inaudible*

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Still yourself old friend. For only a little longer."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I know it's uncomfortable, and I know this ship is small. But we must ensure that we do not face any circumstances or complications that we cannot somehow overcome. You must be patient. I ask that and nothing more of you all anymore...Now, are we ready gentlemen?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Ready as I'll ever be."

<D_BARK.FUNCTION><friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Alright, door opening in 3, 2, 1,...The street looks deserted. I don't see anyone."

<friend.tar_5_859>"I don't like that smell."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"I do not like this either. These structures, what are they?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Houses, people lived there."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"But they are all divided and look the same. And there are no fires in their yards. How do they cook their foods? Who do they eat with?"

<friend.tar_5_859>"I don't like the sound, there aren't any animals, not like I've heard before."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"...Those are cars I think.

<friend.tar_5_859>"Cars?

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Vehicles, with motors."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"More devices?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Yes...and no, not like SOLSA. Older devices used for transportation."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"I see."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What about the signal Doctor? Where is it coming from?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"According to the data, it should be coming from that house right there."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"...I don't see any lights on...I see, something inside...Glowing."

<friend.tar_5_859>"Glowing?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What now?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...Let's try knocking on the door?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"It's not that far, it's just dark...-ow!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Careful."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Watch these bushes...It's completely overgrown out here."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"I think we might be able to the back. It seems like a little bit less thick."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"No no it's fine. The front door is right here."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What is the difference? There isn't anyone here."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What about that glowing?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Rod's is correct 662. Someone must be inside. Besides, it is courtesy to knock on the front door in Mr. Andrews's universe. Because of the similarities I'm willing to make the assumption that it does here as well."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Fine."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"...So we just knock?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"One moment...sorry had to get past that step...Alright Rod, feel free to knock."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Why me?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...Fine I'll do it...Doesn't sound like anyone is in there."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK>"There has to be I saw the glowing."

<friend.tar_5_859>"This doesn't feel right."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"None of this feels right."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Quiet!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You be quiet!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"All of you be quiet!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"...Knock again."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Why bother?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Once more...shh...someone's coming."

<friend.tar_8>"Hello?...Glyner?...Is that y-...Wh-...Patternik?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Who?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Huh?"

<friend.tar_8>"No! Not another one no!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Excuse me, we're looking for someone who would well...match our description. Perhaps you know them?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"He said my name. My last name my...my old last name."

<friend.tar_5_859>"Patternik?"

<friend.tar_8>"Look, I don't know what you are, or who you are, or how I can even see you, but I've had enough! I've had enough! Glyner!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Shh! Stop!...No one is going to harm you."

<friend.tar_8>"You're just a hallucination all of you!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I assure you that we are very real...now please, I don't know this world your universe well, but you appear to have met someone who resembles us already."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Patternik..."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Patternik?"

<friend.tar_8>"Yes...Yes Rod Patternik. He lived here, and I wasn't expecting any of you but whatever helps me to understand just what is going on here is welcome."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"How did you come to be here?"

<friend.tar_8>"...Well I was hoping you could answer that actually. I just, found myself here this evening. Please just come in, I was expecting someone else but having you here will only help me."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Help you?"

<friend.tar_8>"Help to prove I'm crazy. Or not, I'm really not sure anymore. Just come in, I've had a strange day and this will only make it feel normal. Besides, there's no harm in being polite when you know you're crazy right?...Come on, come in. I have a friend coming in a moment and hopefully we'll have this all straightened out."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"O...k...let's go inside gentlemen. Perhaps this Mr...?

<friend.tar_8>"Doctor...Dr. Edward Clements...Not that kind of doctor I'm a psychiatrist. Anyway, please come in, whatever you are. I was just writing in the kitchen."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"...Strange man..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Very...But Doctor, what about the ship? And the Komm-Bots?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"The ship will be fine. Aside from the vehicle out front, which I can only assume belongs to our new friend, there's nobody we've seen. Clandestine as we've been, it seems for naught."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Naught?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Nothing. He means for nothing."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Moving on, the ship will be fine in Phasic-Mode. The Komm-Bots are as well, however as to not alarm our new friend I'd rather not have them trample through this house. They'll be able to monitor us and our voices through the walls of this structure."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Come in! Close the door."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Go inside, everything will be fine gentlemen."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"If you say so..."

<friend.tar_5_859>"...What's that smell?...That, on the ground...Blood."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Whoa whoa wait a minute, what?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662> "What's going on here? What have you done?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Wait! Stop, just...wait a minute. First of all, are you delusions? I'm guessing yes."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"What?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Delusions, like Patternik was before...before he died. You all must be some kind of chemical extension of his mania."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"What? Wait I don't understand...Patternik is...dead?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Well I mean look at that blood!"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"No no, that's not his blood...well some of it is but he killed himself earlier today...in a hospital."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"When did this happen? Where did this blood come from?...What about that window right there?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"I can explain that too, if you'll all just give me a minute...According to what I saw earlier, it was a delusion of Patternik, when he exfoliated the moment he died."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Exfoliated? What are you talking about?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Please let me finish!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"He's a madman, don't listen to him anymore."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"RhadNhe stop! Doctor Clements please, what do you mean?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"He said it himself Doctor. Patternik, the other Rod, the Rodd-iite of this universe is dead!"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Rodd-iite? Doctor?...Doctor Bandever?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Yes, that's me. Pleasure to meet you. Now, you were saying something about exfoliation, what exactly did you mean by that?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"I-I think...I think I'm going to wait."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Wait? What do you mean?...Wait a minute we're not delusions. We're real I assure you. I don't know what you've seen, but we know Rod. We're friends of Rod Patternik. Here... we even resemble him. See?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Oh I can tell...and he mentioned that too."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please, tell me what else he mentioned. I assure you that we mean you no harm, and are in fact very real, and were expecting...well one of us. The signal the computer on our ship-"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"The Nordius Prime?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Yes...yes that's it. How did you know that? Did Rod tell you before he died? Did he know anything about what is happening, or who we are?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"...No...No, I'm going to wait...I'm waiting for a friend anyway he should be here any minute."

<friend.tar.1_Doctor_Bandever>"Who? Why are you waiting?...Please Doctor Clements be reasonable. We're only here to find out what happened to our friend! To Rod Patternik!"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"You want to know what happened to him?...He slashed up some woman and and...gnawed off his own harms in a hospital bed in restraints to get away..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Away from what?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"I don't know I...I-...I've been under a lot of stress, and uh, seeing all you gentlemen here...resembling someone I barely know who killed themselves today...well it's very unnerving."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I think you'll find that's something all of us here can agree on."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"I think-...I think I'm going to go stand outside."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Outside?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Yeah I need some...some air, or something I-"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Doctor please I need you to...wait...wait Dr. Clements wait someone's approaching the door from outside."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"How can you kn-"

<tar.9.unknown>"Alright Doc listen I'm only here because I-...um..."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clemenets>"Glyner thank god!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Glyner?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"...Alright...so...what the hell's goin' on here Doc?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"You can see them too?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"...Which one? The suit, the cowboy, the Zulu princess or the lab coat here? What the hell's goin' on in here? What'dya havin' some kind of weird party Doc?...What is this the academic rendition of the Village People?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"I am not a princess, but I came from a village."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"RhadNhe..."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"I came from a village!"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"But...but you can see them...right?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Yeah I can see them! So what? What difference does it make? It's costume night at a club downtown or somethin', who cares? I don't know what the hell they're doin' here either, or you for matter Doc."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"What do you mean?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Listen I don't know what hornet's nest you sat on, but we gotta get you outta here. Now."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"What?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What's going on?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"I'm a policeman and I'm taking Dr. Clements into protective custody. As you for all you, how'd you come to b-...what the fuck....what the fu...Pat...Patternik?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"You see!...They all look like Patternik!"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"What, the fuck...How...Clements. How?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"I don't know Glyner."

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"How do you not know?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please gentlemen remain calm. I know we all appear to resemble Mr. Rod Patternik, as you knew him in this life, this universe. But we are different, in that, we are different aspects of the same man you knew, but from different universes."

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"...Alright Clements I don't know what kinda weird games you're playin' here, but I'm half sober just to get your ass on a plane outta here."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Officer, what's going on?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Who the fuck are you?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"All of you stop! Shut up!......I've had...the worst...fucking...day, I think I've had in my entire life..."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_ Bandever>"Dr. Clements I understand tha-"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Shut up!....Shut...your mouth...Thank you. Now...I had a very...very, long day. I don't know how to feel, I don't know how to think, I don't know what is real. Even right now...Except you. I couldn't imagine you Glyner, even if I tried."

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"...Well I guess I should be flattered then Doc."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"So what is it? What's going on?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"I'd prefer to tell you in motion. My car's outside. By the way, thanks for ditching me at the bar. I actually mean that. You're lucky you did or I wouldn't have seen an old friend keeping tabs on you."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"...What? When? How?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Doesn't matter. Point is you're gettin' outta here Doc. It's not safe for you here, and we gotta go now!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Wait!...We need his help!"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Stay outta this whitecoat! Get your ass back to wherever Devaroux found you, dogs are loose on his trail too. Get away from that door!...Comon' Clements."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Devaroux?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Dogs?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"He's...he's dead."

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"What? Who?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Devaroux he's...he's dead."

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"...How the fuck do you know that?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Patternik told me. Right before they came..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"How many people are dead in this universe? Jesus!"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"...You...What'd you give him?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"What did you give him? Was it some of Devaroux's shit? What was it?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Officer, Glyner?...I assure you we didn't harm him or do anything to him in any way. We arrived only moments before you did."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Glyner, I could use some of that medicine now. Even though I'm still...a lil' drunk."

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Aw Christ...alright, Doc, airport time, let's go. You four, stay back."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"I'll-whoa-...Glyner what are you doing?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"No time for pleasantries Doc, either you stumble out and take forever, or I fuckin' carry you out. One way or another, your ass is on a plane in the next ten minutes...ow!...Fuckin' door!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Officer!...Dr. Clements, wait!"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"You aren't real!"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Doc shut up!...Fuck Patternik's gardening!"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Glyner...you're funny you know that?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Yeah and you're Doctor Chuckles...just take it easy Doc...alright hold the side, right...there. Now just lie on the car, I'll unlock the door. Don't slide off you drunk."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"I'm...not that drunk...*inaudible*"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Aw Christ..."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Wait! Stop!"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Not real! Not...real!"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Shut up! Get focused Doc this is important get in."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Glyner, what about my car? Look forget the airport, just take me to a hospital."

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Clements shut the fuck up and get in!....Alright listen, I've got you on a value saver to Boston, I called a friend who lives up there, she said she'll do what she can. Nobody knows I'm connected to her and aside from today we had no real connection either...Take it...It's the best I could do Doc, I'm not a millionaire. I dunno how you did it, but you've gotta disappear and I can't send you to Venezuela or anywhere like that without a passport. These guys...the guys who are looking for you, will come looking. Will, Doc. You've gotta go away. Your life today begins anew."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Wha-...What?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Look Doc I know we had our differences today...and I should have knocked your block off in the hospital lot like I wanted to. But when you started talkin', and I could tell there was just somethin' different...different from before about you..."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Glyner, wha-"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"We both have hard jobs Doc. I didn't want to see the same thing happen to you that did to me. I...what the hell?"*inaudible*

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>*inaudible*"Gentlemen!" *inaudible* "Gentlemen wait!"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"What the hell? Get away from the window! Get away! Alright Clements if this guy isn't Patternik just who the fuck is...what the fu...oh shit..."

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"What?"

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Clements get down, stay down in the car and shut up...You, you! Get away from the car! Get in the bushes you fuckin' wiled haired freak!..."*inaudible*..."Hey!...Hey what is this a tie convention?"

<.tar_11_unknown>"Glyner...Long time no see..."

<friend.tar_9_Glyner>"Lenny...Brock."

<.tar_10_unknown> "Frank...what're you doin' out here? Kinda early for you isn't it? Shouldn't you be on a bar stool somewhere?...What are you on a stakeout."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Only stakeout you'd know involves A-1 sauce."

<tar_10_unknown>"Oh yea that's funny. Hey know what's even funnier? Fat fuck drivin' a shitbox writing parking tickets. That's what you did right? No, no wait, wait...You weren't the funny guy, but you weren't writing parking tickets...wait...wait now I remember...yeah you were the principle guy!...Yeah you remember Brock. Doctor Principle. All about the rules and order. But you're still a fat fuck...How've you been? How's that been treatin' ya?...You well?...Been a long time."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Not long enough."

<.tar_11_unknown>"Easy there...what are you doing out here Frank?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"You know me...I was overcome with nostalgia."

<tar_11_unknown>"I'll bet...you smell that Lenny?"

<.tar_10_Lenny>"Gotta say...Smells like rye to me Brock."

<.tar_11_Brock>"Man...I knew I smelled somethin' too...You do remember that it's illegal to drive under the influence, Detective?"

<.tar_10_Lenny>"Yeah Brock...Might if I'm not mistaken, this is a school zone too isn't it?"

<.tar_11_Brock>"Looks like it."

<.tar_10_Lenny>"Zero Tolerance."

<tar_11_Brock>"Even that badge won't stop that bullet. What's left of it."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Alright what is this? Comon...What're you shakin' me down? What for?...What's this all about?"

<.tar_11_Brock>"Where's Devaroux Frank?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"I dunno what you're talkin' about."

<tar.11_Brock>"Doctor Jean Devaroux. You're at one of his patient's houses."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"This is Rod Patternik's house. He was that fuck nut that was sent up to Beechwood and gnawed off his hands."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Oooo...nasty...save any snapshots?...Aw comon' Glyner you didn't get snapshots?"

<tar.11_Brock>"Shame...I'd have loved to see those. What about your new best friend?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Who?"

<tar.11_Brock>"We saw you having a drink with this guy's new shrink at your favorite watering hole. Can you explain that for us Frank?"

<tar.11_Brock>"Spic brain fucker, DHS, named Clements."

<tar.10_Lenny>"We saw you hangin' around him. Got into a heated argument before he sped off...Looks like his car is here. What about that Frank?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"He's a nut...half assed college brat spoiled by a worthless perspective."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Sounds like a common problem."

<tar.11_Brock>"Why's his car here Frank? And you with it?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"He was raving about some hallucination he had, ranting about the case."

<tar.11_Brock>"Hallucination?...Was he on something?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Nah, there wasn't anything to it. Fuck nut Patternik slashes his nurse, runs, gets caught. Open and shut as far as I'm concerned...Guy corners me as I'm comin' outta Beechwood on another case, begging for me to hear him out. Take him for a drink to hear him out and he's off the wall about his wife, his kid. Rants about coming back here and looking for more clues or some bullshit. I was gonna write him off, but I wanted to make sure he didn't crash or something so I came. Guy's bat shit. Open and shut."

<tar.11_Brock>"...I guess we'll have to trust you on that one Frank. Clements wasn't exactly part of the equation but he's become just as important."

<tar.10_Lenny>"So where's Clements, Frank? Inside?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Nah I was just in there. Place is deserted...Bastards didn't even clean up in there."

<tar.11_Brock>"City's strapped as it is, can't blame em' for not caring right away. But you can anyway."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Yea...So who is this guy, Devaroux? And Clements? What are they Patternik's drug pushers or something?"

<tar.11_Brock>"Psychiatrists. Close enough as far as we're concerned."

<tar.10_Lenny>"But we're not lookin' to buy or sell. We'd just like to know where he is Frank. Clements too, but we want Devaroux."

<tar.11_Brock>"Give us somethin' to go on here Frank. We know you know somethin' or feel somethin.' Why else would you be out here? Shopping for real estate?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"...Look I just wanted to make sure that guy didn't run into a wall or something. He already did once and I didn't want his wife and kid to suffer."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Aww...I'm blushin' Frank."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Besides I don't care about Patternik, or Devaroux or whoever they are. Patternik was a nut who took care of himself as far as I'm concerned."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Not like it matters for you anyway Frank. We're gonna take care of it."

<tar.11._Brock>"Besides...figured an...able-bodied man like yourself would have figured out that Devaroux was Patternik's brain fucker. I hope the police still use records to determine facts...Or maybe it's that drink."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Christ Glyner you're getting red...haven't seen someone get that red in a while!"

<tar.11_Brock>*inaudible* "It's ok, it's ok Frank, we understand. You like to drink, that's fine."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Fine habit Frank."

<tar.11_Brock>"And when I drink, one of the things I like to do is go boating. Off Fairpoint, it's beautiful."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Stellar sunsets."

<tar.11_Brock>"Lenny knows. You should try it Frank. Really let a load off. Especially with a drink....now, one thing...I hate, when I drink on my boat...is when people rock it. Don't you hate that Lenny?"

<tar.10_Lenny>"I throw anyone who does it overboard."

<tar.11_Brock>"I've done the same Lenny and I'd do it again. I'd throw that mother fucker overboard and you know why?"

<tar.10_Lenny>"Why'd you do it?"

<tar.11_Brock>"Cause he was makin' me sick...But now, we're not even on a boat. I'm not even drunk. But you're rockin' my boat Frank...I smell it on you...I smell your drink, you're just fuckin' with me now. Rockin' my fuckin boat."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Stop fuckin' with him Frank."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"You two through?...Are ya?...I know you both love hearing each other talk but are you gonna charge me? Call the 3-6 and get a uniform down here?...Oh wait...see now...I, remember. Weren't you the guys who aren't even cops anymore? Got a new job working in the shadows? Must be hard getting hired anywhere legit with charges like that. What'd you guys get fired for? Misconduct?...Something like that? Jog that shared memory between your brain?"

<tar.10_Lenny>"Why you gotta bring up the past Frank?"

<tar.11_Brock>"I think Frank is fucking with us Lenny."

<tar.10_Lenny>"I'm not laughin'."

<tar.11_Brock>"Me neither."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Didn't realize you two were so sensitive. Should I stop off to get you both some flowers or something?"

<tar.11_Brock>"Not the approach...you wanna take with old friends Frank."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Alright alright, take it easy guys. You want me to apologize? Fine. I'm sorry. Let bygones be bygones, right?"

<tar.11_Brock>"Those words mean anything to you Lenny?"

<tar.10_Lenny>"The fuck are words?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Alright I...no stop! Don't even think about reachin' for it."

<tar.10_Lenny>"I'm just scratchin'."

<tar.11_Brock>"Sure, he's just scratchin' Frank, easy...No need to be so touchy...everybody relax. Now...we're looking for Devaroux, and we're looking for this guy Clements too. We need to know what you know...You obviously came down here on a hunch Frank. Why? What do you know? Just tell us and we'll go away. Huh? Comon'. I'll even give you some booze money if you want it."

<tar.10_Lenny>"Looks like he could use it."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"I told you I didn't know who Devaroux was before you told me and I don't know where Clements is...probably running amuck after finding nothin'."

<tar.11_Brock>"Well, we're gonna take a look inside, make sure you didn't miss anything else."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"You're not a cop, can't go in there even you were. It's a crime scene."

<tar.10_Lenny>"You gonna arrest us Frank?"

<tar.11_Brock>"Lenny...Lenny you see that?"

<tar.10_Lenny>"What?"

<FOCUS_1><tar.11_Brock>"In the bushes, over there."

<FOCUS_2><tar.10_Lenny>"...I don't see it."

<FOCUS_1><tar.11_Brock>"Thought I saw something glimmer...you hear that? What was that?"

<FOCUS_2><tar.10_Lenny>"...Got someone in your car Frank?"

<FOCUS_1><tar.11_Brock>"You forget to tell us somethin'?...Ah! Easy there Frank...see unlike Lenny, I don't scratch. And the safety is off...Look check in the car Lenny."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Don't go near that car if you know what's good for ya."

<FOCUS_2_ACTIVE><tar.10_Lenny>"Yeah sure thing Fran-ah!"

<FOCUS_1><tar.11_Brock>"Lenny! Lenny what the fuck!"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"What...the fuck?"

<FOCUS_1_ACTIVE><tar.11_Brock>"Oh sh-!"..."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"What...the fuck?"

<friend.tar._1_Doctor_Bandever>"Officer! Officer Glyner!"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"What...the fuck?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Officer! Are you and Dr. Clements alright? We were hiding in the bushes and-"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"What the fuck are those? What the fuck is going on?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"What? Oh... my apologies allow me to introduce one of my...our mainstay products in another universe. The PTEKK Komm-bot. They are autonomously controlled with devices at our disposal, but can also be used by our human counterparts elsewhere."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Wha...What?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Glyner?...I think I passed out."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Dr. Clements?"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Oh not you...Glyner can you tell him to go away? He won't listen to me and I know he's not real."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"What? Wait a goddamn minute! What the hell is going on! Who the hell are you?...Who the hell are they? What the fuck are those things! Where the fuck did the come from?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Officer, if you'll allow me to explain."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Doctor, may we leave now? The Rodd-iite you sought is dead, and this world is in ruins untouched by SOLSA's hands. And these men fight amongst themselves, the Komm-Bots weren't even necessary to dispatch them."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"SOLSA?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please RhadNhe, Dr. Clements is the connection to the former Rodd-iite of this world. Allowing him to die or even come to harm is something we can't allow."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Why? He is a stranger to us. He is unimportant to what we must do! Where we must be!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Somehow, the Nordius Prime read, him, and his living signal as the Rod of this universe. Our Rodd-iite. It is a variable we cannot overlook."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"How? I mean, what's the difference? How do you even look for one of us? Or find Rodd-iites between universes?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Us? Wait a minute!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"One moment officer. The computer tracks our basic signal using data gained from your physical being Rod."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"My physical being? What do you mean?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Mapping every basic compound in your body and feeding it through a computer. Then feeding that computer's data through a sensor aboard the Nordius Prime. Your own scientists created it Rod."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"I didn't know they could do that too..."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"How have either of you led us this far?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Alright, that's it! What's going on, who are you, and you'd better answer or I'm arresting all of you."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please Officer Glyner, this isn't necessary."

<FOCUS_1><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Shut up! Hands up! Don't any of you move...And don't try any funny stuff with those those...Komm-Bots or whatever either...May have made mincemeat out of those two assholes but you won't get me!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Is that a weapon? It is so small and he is not close to us."

<FOCUS_1><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"You're damn right it's a weapon!"

<friend.tar_8_E_Clements>"Glyner tell them to go away. Just get in the car and drive me to the hospital."

<FOCUS_1><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Shut up!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please officer, lower your weapon, this has become a complete misunderstanding. I-...Oh...Oh god."

<FOCUS_1><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"What?...What is that beeping, what is that?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What is happening?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Doctor..."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Gentlemen we have no time left! We have to leave now!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What is happening?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What does that mean Doctor? Why is the Panel doing that?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"859, 662, Rod, get back to the ship! I'll deactivate Phasic mode only for a moment!"

<FOCUS><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Don't move!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"But what is it?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Phased targets! Incoming to our position?"

<FOCUS><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Hey! Hey you fuckin' caveman get back here!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK>"Who...oh shit SOLSA?"

<friend.tar_RhadNhe_662>"SOLSA! Better we stand now, here and fight!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"No! The trackings are coming from all around our location! Oh god...Something must have arisen suspicion that we were here, I do not understand why were did not detect them before!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Why can't we see them?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Only my Panel can detect them, but we cannot see them!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Blindness will not stop us! We will overcome them!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"RhadNhe be reasonable! We cannot fight them with the few of us we have! We have to get back to the Nordius Prime!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What about these two? I don't think this cop is going to shoot us anyway."

<FOCUS><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"I'll do it if you force me! I don't know who you are or why you look like Patternik but I want answers! Here or in jail! Your choice!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Officer, I don't think you fully grasp what is at stake at this given moment. Here and now, in this given passage of time. I can brief you on specifics, I can tell you all we know, but we cannot do it here. Our paths have met, and if they diverge, then Dr. Clements will still be in our custody, and not yours. If they merge, and you join us, then the custody will be shared. Regardless of your intention to free Dr. Clements from whatever fate he had in store, coming with us is much better than anything left for him here. Clearly you can agree on that much."

<FOCUS><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"I..I don't..."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Dr. Clements is coming with us. You may as well. Will you join us?"

<FOCUS><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"...Well..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"I'm going on the ship!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Just a moment...Will you join us officer?"

<FOCUS><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"...Doesn't seem like my fate is much better is it?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"So you'll help us?"

<FOCUS><.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Beats getting shot at by Komm...Bots...whatever those things are. Plus after the looks of what happened here...I don't think I have much of a future. Especially once someone finds out I knew where he was. If they sent these two after him, it's only a matter of time before they'd get both of us."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Excellent! Dr. Clements?...Doctor?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"...He's passed out."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Can you carry him?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"To where?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"The Kommissar, it's right over here."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"The what...wha..where did that thing come from?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"It uses the same devices as the Komm-Bots."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Boy you got all the toys don't ya? Well where are we gonna go? They're gonna be lookin' us for sure anywhere we go."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"There is nothing to worry about, unless we linger too long."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"...You just have all the answers don't ya?...Alright what do I call ya? Besides white coat or egghead?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Doctor Bandever is fine. Rod Bandever...Uh, would you like a hand carrying Dr. Clements?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Nah I've got em'...Let's go to your plane."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Kommissar."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Whatever."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Hurry!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Be patient! We're still too far away from those signals to-..."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"That...was not a car horn."

<BOARD.FUNCTION><friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Get to the Kommissar! Hurry!"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"I don't have to hear that twice!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Come on! Get in!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Quickly get inside!"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Who the hell?...Christ Bandever didn't you think to bring a bigger plane?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Is everyone inside? 662? 859?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Yes!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"859? Is he inside?...Say something!"

<friend.tar_5_859>"What?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Great! We're leaving!"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Alright, this is nuts! Who are all these guys?...Man move over! How can you see without a windshield anyway? How are you gonna take off on this street with all the power lines an-...why is the street turning black like that? What is that?...What the fuck is that?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK>"...That...that can't be SOLSA."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"It must be!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Better reason to leave! We're taking off now!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Why do we run yet again! SOLSA is here!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Yes they certainly are."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"SOLSA? What the hell does that mean? Clements was ranting about that shit earlier. Whoa...Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"No need to worry officer. Haven't you flown before on this world?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"No!...wait, what? This world? Holy shit!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"You'll grow accustomed to it. All of our compatriots have managed to learn to tolerate space travel.

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Barely."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Space travel? Wait a minute...Alright none of you look like aliens or military. What's the deal? Who the hell are you guys and why do you all look like Patternik?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Please Officer, no need to be frantic. There will be time to explain. First we must leave this earth and get aboard the Nordius Prime."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Nordius Prime? What the hell do you...Oh...my god..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"What? Don't they have spaceships in your universe? I mean you're in one now."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Not like this...Not...like that..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"My company built it!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"They refrained from teaching you to pilot it."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Gentlemen please. We managed to elude whatever was below. There's no need to bring the conflict back aboard."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"We should have remained below and fought!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"RhadNhe, we probably would have died! We don't even know what it was!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"We did not bother to discover!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Gentlemen! That's enough!...Now, I understand why you'd want to remain below to fight, but!...But we cannot fight what we do not understand. Without getting back to the Nordius Prime, we won't stand a chance against whatever we saw!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Perhaps you will not!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...I told you I would deposit you back onto your world when after we have returned to the Nordius Prime. I will keep my promise RhadNhe."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"That is right! My and mine shall return to my world, where we know our people will not limp from a fight!...Neither of you will speak against me on that?...You?...No?...Cowards..."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"...Well I gotta tell ya...I never would have thought I'd be spending a Wednesday in space! Woo! Man I never thought I'd be out here!...Well even if I'm the only one."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself Officer."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"...Call me Frank."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I'll remember that in the future. And how is the Doctor? Still...is he intoxicated?"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Oh yea...He's had a rough couple weeks, can't blame the guy. Now people I knew are after the poor bastard. Probably gonna kill em'."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"He seemed like he was plastered."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Plastered?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Well not to worry, we'll aboard in a moment. I'll be sure to...No..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Is that TransFlash? Wait..."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Yes it is...Yes it is oh god! Oh god no!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"That ship! The ship from before!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"How?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Oh god! No!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What is it doing?"

<friend.tar_5_859>"What's goin' on up there?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"SOLSA! Their ship has appeared!"

<friend.tar_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Oh shit it's going to destroy the ship! Or us! Or both!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"How did they find us?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Get us to the ship! Fly this device faster so we may fight them!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"We're still too far! Oh god they're going to dest-...what...?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"...Its belly!...It is cracking apart!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Oh god...No...It's not...can't be possible..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"It's pulling it inside! It's pulling the Nordius Prime inside of it!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"How?..."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"It's huge!"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Uh...Now I know I just got here and all but...those ships look similar."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What now Doctor?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"We can't go back down there! But our ship...what are we going to do?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"...We're going to land inside that ship."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Are you crazy?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Its bay doors are still open! The Nordius Prime isn't fully inside yet, and we can still manage to make it inside the larger vessel!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You're even more mad than I imagined!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"You wanted to fight SOLSA didn't you? Well...now we have no choice!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"You ensured us of that much!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"Nobody forced you to come!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Stop it! We're closing in now."

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"How? How can they not see us?"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I don't know. But we have no other option unless you'd like to wait and find out Rod."

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"This is insanity!"

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"I gotta agree. This is pretty incredible. Wish I had this kinda thing in my universe."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Hang on! We'll be inside in a moment!"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"This couldn't have been built by PTEKK."

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"We won't know until we get aboard it."

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"Whoa that thing is huge!"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"What will we do when we board? We cannot fight them alone, without the aid of our worlds!"

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"You're absolutely right RhadNhe! We need all the help we can get!"

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

/run PTEKKInterface.exe

.active

/run ragecakescommand4A_JD

.loading...

.Komm-Bot Command Module

.Designation: Ragecakes

.Registry Block: 4A-JD NorAmeriComm

.command path recognized 453_A72_C

/run ragecakescommand4A_JD.path453_A72_C

.loading...

.clearance granted.

.ragecakescommand4A_JD active.

.komm.exe systems active.

.komm_command.exe active.

.komm_scan.exe active.

.komm_target.exe. active.

.komm_cam.exe active.

.ptekk_diary1.0.exe active.

.ptekk_user_chat_interface.exe active.

.ptekk_user_VoiComm.exe active.

/run PTEKKInterface_neuralconn.exe

.loading .ptekk_user_chat_interface.exe

_PTEKK NorAmeriComm <Jungle Division> Operators Interfaced:_ _Ragecakes(Comm), Wrexter (1), Permanator (2), Warstache (3), MarnieAB, Unionbuster, Bongolo, Fritenite, Weffler, Tyner, Qwamma, Vaporz, Requitto, Boomaloom, Ferns, Yatta, Wrenstein, Fubbs, Lurks, DioRules, Poontaggle, Sliderz, Slobber, Ignar, ThundercatsHo, Baboon, Primalz, Norro, Brunly, Slappity, Koffzee, Mongrell, MillersonV, Socksem, Wringles, Drainstorm, KaliKush, Piney, Moondel, Ulmly, Rutz, Skelder, Enyaface, Mortokann, Johnnsonn, Grumbli, JhaneBA, BammerAY, Kling, RamboBQ.endlist_

You are now signed into PTEKK InterComm Interface (PICI) as <Ragecakes>(Comm453_A_72_C). Welcome.

(Boomaloom) There he is!

(Slappity) He wouldn't miss this.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) So, how are we?

(Ignar) Finally.

(Boomaloom) What took you so long?

(Lurks) Probably off being rich and successful.

(Ignar) We are talking about Ragecakes right?

(Wrenstein) Hehe.

(Poontaggle) Probably off fucking someone rich and successful more like.

(JhaneBA) Poor girl.

(Socksem) Poor horse more likely.

(Brunly) Zing!

(Primalz) Hahaha!

(Norro) Ouch.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Children please? School is about to begin...probably...

(Kling) Yeah what's going on? All it said was to stand by at our terminals for instructions.

(Boomaloom) It's another simulation more than likely.

(Wrenstein) Probably.

(Requitto) I dunno. Why would they have a news broadcast on all channels?

(Fubbs) Because there are like eight channels...

(Enyaface) Haha yea

(Lurks) AND THEY ALL SUCK!

(Kling) No they don't.

(Koffzee) What's going on?

(JhaneBA) You could...I don't know...not watch?

(Wrenstein) Here we go...

(Slappity) Please Jane, it's more logic than Lurks is capable of.

(Boomaloom) Haha

(Lurks) Hey shut up!

(Moondel) Hahaha!

(MarnieAB) Aww. Poor Lurks.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Am I the only CommOP on? Are War, Perm, or John interfaced?

(Lurks) Yeah.

(Ignar) Yea everyone's here or around Rage. Just waiting on you.

(Enyaface) But nothing is happening anyway.

(MarnieAB) Yeah...so...

(Fubbs) So...

(Ragecakes<Comm>) So let's party?

(Slappity) Haha

(Socksem) Like I needed to be ordered to do that.

(Wrenstein) Or paid to.

(Kling) Hey now...

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Yeah to be fair Wren, I could be paid to party. I wouldn't call it a conflict of interest.

(MarnieAB) You ARE a party Ragecakes.

(Ferns) My party...

(Ragecakes<Comm>)?...

(Boomaloom) I think Ferns is referring to his/her pants.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Oh.

(Baboon) HE'S MINE! RAGECAKES IS MINE!

(Ragecakes<Comm>) BABOON OF THE YARD?

(Warstache<3>) SHUT UP!

(Ignar) Haha!

(Norro) Never gets old.

(Ferns) You guys are jerks.

(JhaneBA) Amen.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Hey! I just haven't seen Ba ba boon in a while.

(Ferns) Not you Rage. You're fine.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Just making sure. Plus my baboon call serves as my method to summon Warstache.

(Warstache) What?

(Slappity) It has been proven effective many times.

(JhaneBA) Too many, it's like they share a brain with each other.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) I offer timeshares in my brain. War is a Platinum Card Holder.

(Ferns) Oh god...

(Koffzee) What's a timeshare?

(Baboon) I REQUIRE BANANAS! THIS BABOON WILL RETURN IN A MOMENT!

(Fubbs) Ok weirdo...

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Hey! You're in Jungle Division! No fucking with the animals, cardinal rule!

(Moondel) Hell yeah!

(Warstache) Yeah!

(Fubbs) Geez sorry...

(Permanator<2>) Hey guys I'm back.

(Warstache<3>) Where's my beer?

(Permanator<2>) I'm not your beer wench! You...

(Wrenstein) Wench?

(Enyaface) Hehe

(Ragecakes<Comm>)Perm.

(Permanator<2>) Rage.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Where's John?

(Permantor<2>) Wrex was here a minute ago.

(Wrexter<1>) I'm here I was on the phone.

(Fern) Oooooh girlfriend?

(Wrexter<1>) No no no job. Work.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) What's good? You get in?

(Wrexter<1>) No.

(Warstache<3>) Why?

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Why the hell not?

(Wrexter<1>) Spot was filled.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) What?

(Warstache<3>) Filled?

(Permanator<2>) You said you had it. Sure thing.

(Wrexter<1>) Fuck, don't remind me ok?

(Koffzee) What happened?

(Warstache<1>) Wrex was gonna leave us.

(Fern) ?

(MarnieAB) How did that go?

(Wrexter<1>) Badly. Black Binder can fuck all for all I care.

(Slappity) I wouldn't say that too loud if I were you...

(JhaneBA) Say? We're typing.

(Slappity) You know what I mean.

(Ignar) Yeah I heard Terenstry keeps bugs inside all the Interface terminals to listen.

(Kling) Um, bugs? Yeah.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Alright conspiracy theorists let's take that back to Stonehenge. Wrex: Details.

(Wrexter<1>) What's to tell? I went to the interview, I had my foot in the door with my credentials, and they just filled it with some other guy.

(Permanator<2>) Did they say who?

(Warstache<3>) I think a phone phreak is in order...

(Ragecakes<Comm>) War don't make me tell you again.

(Wrexter<1>) Some guy from SoAmeriComm. Some Kommissar guy.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) What the fuck?

(Permanator<2>) Kommissar Pilot...for a Komm-Bot Operator?

(Wrexter<1>) Dude.

(Slappity) Wow...

(Warstache<3>) How is that even possible?

(Wrexter<1>) I don't know, don't remind me. I don't know how he got the job over me when he wasn't even qualified to use their systems.

(Wrenstein) Robbed.

(Norro) Agreed.

(MarnieAB) I'm sorry Wrex.

(Warstache<3>) Well, at least you get to stick it out here with us right?

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Yeah we're not so bad right? We scream and yell in VoiComm but we're could be worse.

(Wrexter<1>) No you guys aren't bad. Seriously, you know how hard I tried on their stupid exam.

(Wrenstein) There's an exam?

(Permanator<2>) It's part of the training, operation, secret stuff, background checks, blah blah blah.

(Slappity) Maybe you didn't pass the background check? I mean I don't mean to pry...

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Pryer!

(Wrexter<1>) No it wasn't that. They just chose that guy. No other explanation.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Well...not to seem weird or anything...but it wouldn't have been the same without you.

(MarnieAB) Awwww!

(Wrexter<1>) I could have used that pay increase.

(Warstache<3>) Yeah but who needs money when you've got friends? And booze! And robots!

(Moondel) Yes!

(JhaneBA) Here here!

(Wrexter<1>) Yeah, so what are we waiting on? I want to get this simulation over with so I can go to sleep.

(Fern) Don't be sad...

(Warstache<3>) Me too, this is a lot of hype for nothing.

(Lurks) Why on every channel then?

(Requitto) Yeah.

(Fubbs) Or SOLSA could be attacking.

(JhaneBA) Right.

(Baboon) I HAVE RETURNED FROM MY BANANA QUEST. WHY HASN'T ANYTHING HAPPENED?

(MarnieAB) Nobody knows.

(Poontaggle) Still waiting like everybody else.

(JhaneAB) Everyone is waiting? All divisions, like us?

(Poontaggle) Yup.

(Wrexter<1>) Great.

(Baboon) WREXTER YOU'RE ALIVE

(Wrexter<1>) I AM INDEED!

(Baboon) DID YOUR EMPLOYMENT VENTURE FAIR WELL?

(Wrexter<1>) No.

(Baboon) OH. WELL, TO SUPPLEMENT YOUR DIMINISHED EGO, I'D OFFER YOU A BANANA, BUT UNTIL TRANSFLASH IS RELEASED TO THE PUBLIC, I MUST ENJOY MY BANANAS ALONE.

(MarnieAB) Eeee! I can't wait about that! I'm so excited!

(Wrenstein) My cousin in Prague got it already.

(Fern) How?

(Lurks) Europeans got it earlier.

(Permanator<2>) I know, it's not right.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) It's really not.

(Baboon) MY SCREEN IS GLOWING! SOMETHING IS HAPPENING!

(MarnineAB) Me too! Finally!

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Alright ladies and gentlemen according to your screens you should be receiving a signal from PTEKK CommSec. Anyone not at this point say so now.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Nobody? Ok.

/run.host_ping.exe

*cmd_funct required*

/host_ping.pass 4A-JD

.command path recognized 453_A72_C

.loading_registry_block...

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Alright, get ready everyone.

(Moondel) I hope we fight against Black Binder again.

(JhaneBA) Me too, I want revenge for last time.

(Permanator<2>) Where are we?

(Ragecakes<Comm>) This place is new.

(Norro) Some futuristic level or something?

(Lurks) I like it!

(Enyaface) Wait, why is my Komm-Bot moving? Why are we all moving?

(Kling) We're neurally connected still to another tether signal. Happens at the start of some glitchy sims.

(Moondel) Weird.

(JhaneBA) I know where we are.

(Requitto)?

(Wrenstein) Where are we?

(JhaneBA) Isn't it obvious? We're on the giant ship they have in orbit. That Nordius Prime II or whatever it was.

(Fern) Oh yeah.

(Enyaface) So this is just a big simulation?

(Permanator<2>) Makes sense. They did shut its construction for a 'structural problem'.

(Baboon) AND THE WRECKING CREW HAS ARRIVED.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) WOOOOO!

(Wrexter<1>) But we're not doing anything. What are those guys even saying?

(MarnieAB) Who?

(Lurks) Oh those guys.

(Poontaggle) These guys look weird.

(Ignar) This one guy's like 8 feet tall!

(Wrenstein) Weird stuff to add to a simulation.

(Socksem) Rage, or any CommOp, can you turn on their voices?

(Requitto) Is that possible?

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Yeah one second. Lemmie look up the patch to filter it.

(Permanator<2>) Uh we're not allowed to do that...

(Warstache<3>) So look the other way?

(Norro) Haha

(Wrexter<1>) Yeah guys, honestly before today I would have cared. Fuck PTEKK.

(MarnineAB) Don't say that!

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Alright patching it now.

/run komm_translator.exe

*denied* authorized_sub_junct_pass required

/run komm_translator.exe.patch_sub_junct_Winkler445

*granted* sub_junct_pass accepted.

.komm_translator.exe active

.sub_junct_pass_Dr_Arthur_Winkler_445

(Ragecakes<Comm>) There we go.

(Warstache<3>) Nicely done.

(Requitto) How did you do that?

(Permanator<2>) Magic hehe.

(Socksem) Old news.

(Ignar) No seriously. This is awesome, but you need to turn it up. I can't hear what they're saying.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) All I can say friends, is don't leave your passwords lying around. And I'll turn it up.

/adjust komm_translator.exe

.options: Volume_inc_55/100

(Ragecakes<Comm>) There we go. Whoa hang on.

(Warstache<3>)?

(Poontaggle) What is it? Plus I can barely hear these guys.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) One second, it looks like there were already targeting parameters set up in our Komm-Bots for these guys.

(MarnieAB)...

(Lurks) So they had our Komm-Bots active without our permission? Isn't that against Terms of Employment?

(JhaneBA) Clearly you were born yesterday Wrexter...

(Norro) Yeah I hate to be a jerk but, PTEKK can and does whatever it wants.

(Lurks) Yeah but they go against their own contracts.

(Poontaggle) So? They still pay you.

(Yatta) Amen to that.

(JhaneBA) Yatta! Where were you?

(Yatta) I was making dinner. What's happening?

(Permanator<2>) Work time.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Hang on I've got the scan directory.

/run komm_scan.exe

.tar_refresh

*renewed*

.options: Volume_inc_100/100

.options: Intface_tar.scan + ptekk_user_chat_interface.exe

.loading...

(Ragecakes)<Comm>) That should do it.

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever> "As you can see gentlemen we have a long hallway ahead of us with very few alternatives. If memory serves and this truly is based upon the original Nordius Prime I, then the lay out should be the same."

(Norro) Whoa! How did you do that?

(Permanator<2>) Ragecakes is magic guys.

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1>"But it's huge! This is way bigger than our ship!"

(Fern) Rod Andrews! He's there!!!

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Relax it's just a simulation. Has to be.

(Warstache<3>) Damn good one.

(Fern) How do you know?

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"You guys built this?"

(Permanator<2>) Why would a billionaire do anything life threatening?

(Moondel) He's got you there.

(Fern) But he left earth in a spaceship...

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"My people had nothing to do with their madness. We destroy SOLSA ourselves! Here and now!"

(Permanator<2>) If you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you.

(MarnieAB) The backstory seems kinda cool. I don't know why we'd be fighting alongside these guys instead of other Komm-Bots though.

(Lurks) Maybe the programmer was just bored and wanted to make something more fun.

(Fern) Ooooh!

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Regardless of where the blame falls, we must destroy them here and now. We have reinforcements, Komm-Bot operators from 285's world being activated as we speak now. We will not be fighting alone gentlemen. But we cannot escape this time, and must fight them now!"

(Ignar) Guys I think this is really happening.

(Kling) Yeah ok.

(JhaneBA) Do you line your apartment with tinfoil too?

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662> "Finally we are in agreement!"

<Ignar> No it just seems pretty real is all.

<Warstache<3>) It's supposed to.

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner> "Alright so we're fighting aliens. So what? What do we do now?"

(Norro) Yeah!

(Enyaface) I like this guy haha.

(Lurks) This programmer has a fetish for Rod Andrews.

(JhaneBA) I know, there's only a couple that look like him, but it's still pretty creepy.

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"I'm getting to that. If you'll follow here on my Panel's diagram, we will all move along the central hallway to the main deck. Rod and I will move to the TransFlash room to begin moving additional forces from his world here. The rest of you will capture the main deck. Be vary, as we still do not know what SOLSA is aside from what we've already seen. Remain focused, these Komm-Bots will help your progress and aid in any contact with enemies. They've brought us this far haven't they?"

(Ignar) Come on, this has to be real. Like who is that guy? Honestly?

(Qwamma) I'm back, what the hell's going on?

(Ferns) Qwamma!

(Ragecakes<Comm>) You're missing out. How many people aren't here?

/run Komm_Block.ping

*25 active operators*

*25 inactive operators*

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Guys half of us aren't even here.

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662> "I and mine do not require your robots Doctor! Do not forget we repelled them from our world once before!"

(Lurks) Oh my god...

(Moondel) This is why we can't have nice things.

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner> "I must have missed a lot before this."

(Wrexter<1>) So half of us aren't even here to do a sim? Great. No wonder we always lose to Black Binder.

(MarnieAB) Don't be down.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Yeah come on John, be happy! We get to shoot things today!

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"That is why you will be leading the way RhadNhe! Lead this block to the main deck. I'll only need 10 of them to secure the TransFlash room, and I'm delivering them instructions now. Rod? Everyone ready?"

<friend.tar_2_RhadNhe_662>"Damned be your devices! Attack!"

(Norro) Do we follow these guys or what?

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever> "RhadNhe! Wait! Intolerable mongrel!

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner>"What's his problem?"

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Ok guys I'm getting directives. Groups 2-5 follow along main corridor and standard sweep parameters. Maintain pursuit and defense of Targets 2, then 4 and above. No chances, no surprises. Look inside the doorways if you can, we all remember what the Nordius Prime looked like inside from tv so this shouldn't be a problem. Group 1 will stay on targets 1 and 3 to the TransFlash bay. Let's work it!

(MarnieAB) Yay!

(Baboon) THIS BABOON NEEDS MONEY FOR BANANAS!

(Wrexter<1>) Money in general would be great.

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever> "Rod, we do not have time. Let's go!"

(Ragecakes<Comm>) John, all is well. Alright groups follow designated targets and disperse.

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner> "Wait you guys leavin'?"

(Permanator<2>) Where is the TransFlash room again?

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Just follow me, we're off neural connection and have free motion.

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever> "Yes! We must get to the TransFlash room immediately!"

(Permanator<2>) This place looks gross, like it's covered in filmy slime on the wall.

(Kling) Check your graphic settings on your Interface Terminal.

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner> "Look I don't know what the fuck is goin' on. Clements still hasn't woken up and if what you're sayin' is true, then it sounds like you guys have it pretty well sorted without us getting in the way."

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Stairwell to the TransFlash room is clear, moving down.

(Warstache<3>) It's pretty big, didn't think a Komm-Bot would fit up here.

(Kling) It's because they screwed up the dimensions of it all and made it too big.

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Perhaps you're right. Remain here with Dr. Clements and these Komm-Bots. We should not need them anyway, and it would be best to leave them with you to defend our escape."

(JhaneBA) These guys are hard to keep up with.

<friend.tar_9_Frank_Glyner> "Alright, good luck down there, or wherever you're goin."

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Alright new directives, John, Requitto, Brunly, Norro, Socksem, Yatta, Wrenstein, and Boomaloom stay with Targets 8 and 9 and defend the doorway to the docking bay. Perm, War, you're with me on Targets 1 and 3. They are moving down the staircase and into the TransFlash room now.

(Permanator<2>) So this is what a TransFlash generator looks like?

(MarnieAB) I wanted to see it! Take pictures!

(Ragecakes<3>) Perm take second corner, War cover the Industrial Cells. How is everyone else doing?

(Wrexter<1>) Nothing happening back here

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever> "This way Rod! This way!"

(Fern) This hallway takes forever...

(JhaneBA) I can't see those guys anymore they're off out of sight.

(Lurks) What were they anyway?

(Kling) Zulus or something. Programmers must be really bored these days without SOLSA.

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever> "Ok Rod I need your assistance with this. Actually, please tell me you still have that bracelet?"

<friend.tar_3_Rod_A_PTEKK_V1> "Yeah I have it right...What the hell was that?"

(Permanator<2>) The fuck was that?

(JhaneBA) Was anyone shooting?

(Wrenstein) Nothing back here.

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever>"Rod stay focused, we must do this."

(Permanator<2>) Felt like the whole ship shuddered.

(Warstache<3>) Oh wow

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Yeah, guys they just activated the TransFlash generator. It looks really cool.

(MarnieAB) Man!

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever> "Ok the generator is active. Rod, give me the bracelet to program receiving coordinates...Rod? What is it?"

(Warstache<3>) Hey who's coming through the Vac-Tube door?

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Alright guys who isn't where they're supposed to be?

<friend.tar_1_Doctor_Bandever> "Oh god! Oh go-"

(Wrexter<1>) What's happening?

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Fuck!

(Warstache<3>) Wow.

(Permanator<2>) Engaging.

(Wrexter<1>) What just happened?

(RamboBQ) I just got back, what's going on?

(Ragecakes<Comm>) Well, about 5 blocks worth of Komm-Bots just steamrolled into the TransFlash room, shelled Warstache and my Komm-Bots while we were standing right next to Rod Andrew's sim and I lost my signal.

(Warstache<3>) Yeah the same happened to me just now. My Komm-Bot screen isn't even coming up, it must have been blown up.

(Norro) Damn, I could hear all the shooting too.

(Permanator<2>) You have me to thank for that.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) So what did we miss happen?

(Permanator<2>) The doctor, target 1? Got blown away. He's like a smear on the ground, couldn't stop it. Don't know what happened to Rod Andrew's sim target 3. TransFlash generator is still active and there's bits of Komm-Bot everywhere.

(Warstache<3>) So my Komm-Bot is completely fucked?

(Permanator<2>) I just lit up everything, so probably. I'm sorry.

(Warstache<3>) Fuck.

(Ragecakes<Comm>) It's fine guys. We'll just have to wait a minute for a new Komm-Bot signal to use War. Still, I think I'm already feeling a best simulation coming on.

(Norro) It has potential.

(Permanator<2>) If only all our work was this fun.

