When the sun was about to rise, Glen’s eyes popped open.  Sandra snuggled into his shoulder, and with the little bit of new light, he looked over at the elves.  He felt embarrassed.  He saw Ellean snuggle up to Macreedy and Macreedy looked at her with a loving expression and tenderly brushed her long black hair behind her ear.

            “Ahem.”  Glen coughed softly and Macreedy looked more than slightly embarrassed.  “This is a switch.  It is usually the women who wake up before the lazy men.” 

            “Oh, we’re awake,” Ellean said, and Macreedy jumped back as if stung by a bee.

            “We?”  Glen asked.

            “We are,” Sandra confirmed without opening her eyes.  She shifted her head in Glen’s shoulder and reached for his other shoulder with her free hand.  She seemed to want to snuggle some more, but Glen noticed what he was wearing, and though he was not exactly naked, he jumped further than Macreedy.  He got out from beneath the covers altogether.  All he had on was a t-shirt and boxers, though when he examined the clothes, he caught a glimpse of Fairy Weave.

            “What is this?”  He asked as he sat on Sandra’s bed and covered up.  He thought dark blue, and his weave turned dark blue which was better than the almost translucent white it had been.

            “The magic came in the night,” Ellean said.  “I was surprised that it did not wake you.”

            “Lord Alderon said you are to put this on.”  Macreedy pointed to a suit of armor, chain on leather.  It sat neatly laid out at the end of Sandra’s unused bed.  There were swords and knives with the outfit, and a cape that looked reversible, with black on one side and white on the other.

            “But I…”  Glen was not in a position to argue.  He got into the outfit as rapidly as he could and found that it fit perfectly.  It was also very comfortable and light, which was a surprise.  He had expected all of that metal to weigh a hundred pounds.  At last he set his hands on the weapons.  “I don’t know what to do with these,” he said.  “I never killed anything bigger than a spider.”

            “You need to bring them,” Macreedy said.

            “I can help you put them in place,” Ellean said.  “These are like the ones our God carries.”

            “They are?”  Glen spoke absentmindedly because he was trying to figure out where they hooked on, and they appeared to have rings that only needed hooks.

            “Wait.”  Macreedy stopped Ellean in her tracks and he looked very suspicious.  “Try calling to them,” he said.

            “What?” 

            Macreedy stepped over and took the weapons and laid them out again on the bed.  “Try calling to them,” he repeated.

            Glen looked at Sandra who had gotten up to watch the proceedings, but she could only shrug.

            “A virtue in their making,” Macreedy suggested.  “They were given to you so you should be able to call to them and they should fit themselves into place.”

            “Like magic?”  Sandra was not slow to catch the implication and Macreedy nodded.

            “OK,” Glen said, but he sounded doubtful.  “All-ee, all-ee in come free.”  He shouted and shrugged because nothing happened.  He was kidding.  He tried again.  “Sword, here.  Knife here.  Here, swordy, swordy, swordy.”  Still nothing happened.  He tried a poor man’s Shakespeare.  “Afixeth thyself before I be off, oft.”   He shrugged again.  “Nothing.”  Macreedy looked relieved. 

            Ellean began to move again to help him, but Glen held out his hand.  He was getting into this.  “Open sesame.  Attach sesame.”  He started in on loony tunes, beginning with Yosemite Sam.  “Ya gal-dern galoots!”  He went on for a while with nonsense words until he said something that sounded almost like a string of consonants with hardly any vowels at all, and the sword and knife jumped.  They rushed at Glen so he was inclined to cover his face.  He thought that maybe he angered the inanimate objects – the sharp inanimate objects, but then he heard several clicks and Sandra applauded, Ellean shouted something not at all like “golly gosh!” and Macreedy went back to looking suspicious.

            “Well.”  Glen looked up and smiled.  “But they can stay where they are because otherwise I will probably cut my foot off.”

            “Why would you cut your foot off?”  Sandra asked.

            “If I had a gun I would probably shoot my foot off and I figure fair is fair.”  And that ended the discussion about the weapons.  Glen saw that both Ellean and Macreedy sported long knives at their belts and both carried bows, and that felt like more of a comfort than anything he might carry.

            Sandra and Ellean found the food that had been left for their breakfast.  It looked like the troops pulled out before dawn since they and their tent were all that was left in the area, and Glen looked all around.  When he returned, the tent was already reduced to a cube the size of Macreedy’s hand which the elf slipped into his side pack.  The fire was still burning, though, and they had bacon and eggs cooking.

            “There goes any chance of getting my clothes back, I suppose,” Glen said.

            “I think you look good,” Sandra grinned.

            “What, for Halloween?”

            Sandra stood up to whisper in his ear.  “You look sexy,” she said and quickly scooted to the other side of Ellean.

            “My birthday is the day after Halloween.  I’m open to suggestions on presents,” Glen said, and Sandra turned a little red beneath her blond hair.  Macreedy temporarily dropped his suspicious look for a confused look.

            “I don’t understand the game,” he admitted with a shake of his head.

            “Human mating ritual,” Glen said.  “You should try it sometime.”  He pointed at Ellean with a shake of his head.  Macreedy made no response other than to open his mouth, wide.

            “Enough of that,” Sandra scolded.  “Breakfast.”  And they all ate what they could, even Glen who was not normally a breakfast person; but to be sure, none of them knew when they might get another good meal.

###

NOTE: To read this story from the beginning or to read any of the stories of the Traveler please click the tab “Traveler Tales” above.  You can read any of the stories independently, or just the Vordan story, or the whole work in order as written.  Your choice.  Enjoy.  –Michael.

            “How they came to be here is less important than why,” the voice said.  An elderly elf came in, followed by the commander of the troop that had picked up Sandra and Glen.  “I am Alderon and this is Commander Peregrine.”

            “The Falcon.”  Glen saluted.  “But let me ask, why are you here?”  Glen spoke quickly, and the old elf raised an eyebrow so Glen continued.  “You have brought an army into the wilderness.  I hope we have not fallen into the midst of a war.”  Sandra suddenly looked concerned.  She had not thought of that.

            “No fear,” Alderon said.  “Wars in our realm are rare events these days.  Rather, we had a report of a demon djin crossing close to the border.  We sought to destroy it, if we could, or at least keep it from our homes.”

            “A ghoul?”  Glen asked.

            Alderon shook his old head.  “Our observers did not see it well enough to classify it, except to say it is one of the lesser djin.”

            “But a terror all the same,” Glen said, thinking out loud and turning toward Sandra.  “They can possess people, and feed off the fear and pain they cause in tormenting their victims.”

            “And how do you know the ways of the djin?”  Macreedy asked.

            “Behavioral Sciences,” Glen answered.  “I have studied my Anthropology and my folklore, unless we humans have it all wrong.”  Glen looked up at Alderon who was smiling, just barely.

            “Essentially right.,” Alderon confirmed.  “But now you must answer a question.  Why have you come here?”

            “My daughter and mother disappeared.”  Sandra spoke quickly.  “We were following their trail and found ourselves here.  I don’t know how.  None of this makes any sense, but now I fear we have lost the trail.”  Sandra felt the surge of emotion rise up inside and a few tears began to fall.  Glen quickly put his arms around her and reassured her.

            “We will find them.  Hush.  It will be alright.”  He stroked her hair, gently, and she quieted.  “We were following the seeds, but I don’t know if we can pick up that trail again without going back and getting tangled up with the ogre.”

            Alderon waved and Commander Peregrine held out his hand.  “Were they pumpkin seeds like this?”  Alderon asked.

            Sandra jumped up and took the elf’s hand, not thinking twice about it.  The hand was full of pumpkin seeds.  “Yes,” she shouted.  “But where did you find them?”

            “In this place,” Commander Peregrine responded.  “My command was charged with following them to see where they lead, and they brought us to you.”

            “So, wait.”  Glen said.  “You’re saying if we followed the pumpkin seed trail from the beginning, it would have brought us to this place?”

            Alderon nodded, and Sandra turned.  “Oh, Glen, we haven’t lost them,” she said and then she just had to fall into Glen’s arms and kiss him smack on the lips, and she kissed his cheek as well before grabbing his arm and turning to sit beside him, and pull herself together.

            At the mention of Glen’s name, Commander Peregrine looked surprised, Macreedy had one eyebrow up, Ellean was too busy watching Sandra and thinking her own thoughts to notice, but Alderon was smiling that almost invisible smile of his.  “But where does the trail go from here?”  Glen asked.

            “Ahh…”  Alderon said as he stepped up behind Macreedy and Ellean.  “There are a small number of seeds heading into the caves of the Cormac.  We have chosen not to explore that way since it leads away from our homes.”

            “The caves of the Cormac?”  Macreedy did not think much of those caves and Ellean looked positively frightened.

            “What’s a Cormac?”  Sandra asked, drawing herself as close to Glen’s side as she could get.

            “An ever hungry troll,” Macreedy said.

            “And the caves are full of goblins as well, no doubt trying not to be eaten,” Commander Peregrine added.

            Alderon simply looked at Glen and would not let go of that smile that touched the mere corners of his lips.  “Somehow, though, I have a good feeling about your chances,” he said.  “And since young Macreedy and young Ellean have agreed to see to your welfare, I know you will do well.”

            “What?”  Macreedy looked up sharply at his elder and tried to stand, but Alderon put a hand on the elf’s shoulder to keep him seated.  Then he clapped his hands and stepped aside while two elf maids came and went, quickly.  The first had two more blankets and the second carried four little packs, provisions for the expected journey.

            “You planned this.”  Macreedy accused as Commander Peregrine set down his handful of pumpkin seeds and followed the maids out the tent door.

            “Yes,” Alderon said, finally letting out a bit more of that smile.  He held up his hand and twisted it like one might twist a dimmer switch, and the light in the glow-balls dimmed to night lights.  “Sleep well,” he said, and left.

            Macreedy was not entirely happy, but Ellean set about immediately showing their companions what they could do with the Fairy Weave blankets, changing the color, size, thickness and texture, and all with a thought. 

            “I don’t know why it is called Fairy Weave, though, since it is made by elves.  These were made by the elves of the grove,” Macreedy said.  Glen just nodded and he got the idea easily enough and made something like an air mattress with covers to sleep on.  Sandra had a little more trouble with hers so Ellean helped; but by then with the thoughts and worries about the caves of Cormac getting in the way, Ellean was the only one smiling.

            “This will be so much fun.”  She said.  “I just know I can learn so much from you.” 

            Sandra stared at the elf maid in disbelief.  “You’re seventy three years old and I’m just twenty-three.  How are you going to learn anything from me?”

            Ellean cocked her head to the side and spoke in all seriousness.  “You have a baby.”  She stole a glance at Macreedy.

            “But I haven’t got a husband,” Sandra said and Ellean looked at her again with eyes that were big and brown and suddenly sad.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “No, actually he was a jerk.  Melissa and I are better off without him.”

            “Well.”  Ellean did not know what to say until she looked over at Glen.  “Glen seems very nice, what do you think?”

            Sandra just looked, and since Macreedy and Glen heard everything in that small tent, they also looked.  Sandra appeared to be more concerned to find out if Glen thought she was nice, and while Glen was not ready to answer that question, he did feel that he ought to say something. 

            “I think we all ought to try and get some sleep,” he said, and he got under his covers and turned his back on them all.  Macreedy finished dousing the glow-balls so only the dying embers from the fire provided any light in the tent.  Even so, it was not long before Glen relaxed.  He felt certain that everyone else in the tent was asleep.  He was a little surprised when Sandra crawled under his covers to curl up beside him.  He was more surprised when the other two spoke.

            “I wish I had thought of that,” Ellean said.

            “Go to sleep,” Macreedy responded.

            Glen had a hard time sleeping at first since it was not easy to keep his hands to himself; but then the something inside of him rose up and he felt he could hold this beauty after all without being overly excited.  He slept well after that.  He could not vouch for the others.

            It took several hours to reach a camp where Glen guessed there were perhaps a hundred or more elves all dressed for war.  The sun was going down when Glen and Sandra were escorted to a tent.  They were left alone, but Glen was sure there were guards near enough.

            Sandra sat quietly and hugged her knees which were pulled up to her chin.  She seemed to be in her own little world.  Glen paced and tried to make sense of what was happening.  It was weird, as Sandra said.  It was unreal, impossible, and no human being would ever believe it.  Glen felt stupid, like he was in the midst of something out of a children’s story, or an old wives tale, or a folktale where some anthropologist would point out the underlying meaning but would never believe that it might be real.  Elves and ogres did not really exist, Glen told himself, but here he was and here they were.  He had long since rejected the idea that this might be a dream.  “That would have made this B-movie extra bad.”  He mumbled.  Sandra took Glen’s mumble as an opening to speak.

            “My grandmother.”  She paused and shook her head before starting again.  Glen sat down beside her, not touching, but close enough.  “My grandmother used to talk about her grandmother like she was, I don’t know, weird.  She said her grandmother had the magic.  That’s what she called it.  She said her mother had some, but not like her grandmother, while she could hardly do anything at all.”

            “When was your grandmother born?”  Glen was curious, but he was not sure why he asked that question.  This – whoever it was that seemed to be giving him these thoughts was getting annoying.  Glen probably should have been frightened by the invasion of his mind except there were two mitigating feelings.  The first was that the someone, whoever it was, felt so comfortable.  Glen could not imagine any harm coming from that direction.  The second was there were far more frightening things happening all around him, he hardly had time to worry about what might be trying to help him.

            “1908,” Sandra said.  “She would have been seventy this year if she was still alive.”  Glen nodded.  It was presently 1978.  After a pause, Sandra added the word, “Cancer.”

            “And her grandmother?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Say, 1870?”

            Sandra shrugged.  “Grandma said her great-grandmother was a half-blood.  I remember asking once half-what?  I got the strangest answer.”  Sandra looked like she did not want to say it, but as an elf chose that moment to enter the tent with a tray of food, Sandra found the courage to verbalize what had always seemed loony.  “Fairy.”  She said.  “My great- great, whatever-grandmother was a half-fairy.”

            Glen nodded.  “1849 gold rush,” he said as the elf put down the food and turned to leave.  “Wait a minute.”  Glen spoke up, and the elf paused.  “What are you going to do with us?”

            The elf turned and shrugged.  He was skinny, terminally skinny the way certain elves were, and his ears were very pronounced and pointed, but they matched his pointed nose.  “Nothing that I know of.”  At least his voice sounded normal. 

            The elf decided to sit and as he crossed his long legs he leaned forward to place a hand over the fire.  It rose up with new life.  Given the circumstances, neither Sandra nor Glen were surprised by that bit of magic. Sandra scooted a bit closer to the fire for the warmth.  Glen decided to to look around. 

            The fire was in the middle of the tent floor and there was a small hole in the tent roof straight above it.  Curiously, the smoke from the fire went straight up and out the hole without the least bit of it filtering into the rest of the tent.  Neat trick, Glen thought.  He noticed that most of the light in the tent did not come from the fire, but from several globes near the tent roof.  Glow-balls, he called them, and he imagined they were like fairy lights.  Of course, they were not plugged into anything and they were not battery run so he was at a loss as to what powered them, but they glowed just fine and the light was warm and comfortable.  Their night in that tent did not look frightening, but then it did not look all that comfortable if they chose to sleep.  There were only two blankets rolled up on the dirt floor, but Glen did not get to examine them closely because by then Sandra found the courage to ask a question.

            “Do you have a name?”

            “Macreedy, son of Macreedy, son of Macreedy, son of Macreedy.”  The elf said.  “My sire had many daughters, but only one son of Macreedy.”  He smiled and cocked his head back to look toward the tent door and said, “You might as well come in, too.  These people do not appear dangerous and I don’t believe they rub off.”

            A young female head poked in through the tent door.  Her face looked more human, being not nearly so skinny, but the ears were still a giveaway.  The face looked unsure, though, so Glen felt obliged to speak up.

            “No human cooties, I promise,” he said.

            “Well.”  The elf came in slowly to take a seat beside Macreedy.  “As long as you promise.”

            “My name is Sandra,” Sandra said.  “Daughter of Mona, daughter of Edna, daughter of another woman and another and another who was a daughter of a full blood fairy.”

            “Really?”  The elf maid found her smile as Sandra nodded and the maid turned to Macreedy.  “That may explain how they came to be here,” she said, but Macreedy was shaking his head.

            “Let me see if I can say this the way Master Olerian of the Bean taught the lesson.”  He coughed, lowered his voice and affected a very formal tone and look.  “The magic is generally well faded by the third generation, and the blood indiscernible by the seventh, though the child is not considered fully human again until the tenth generation.”  The elf maid giggled, and Glen decided that this elf was in truth a simple girl who might have passed for a seventeen- year-old human, if that.

            “I’m the seventh generation and Melissa is the eighth,” Sandra said, looking mostly at Glen in case she counted wrong.

            “You have a baby?”  The elf girl looked surprised.  Macreedy was still shaking his head as if to say that would not explain how they came to be there.

            “Ellean.”  Glen interrupted and got the elf girl’s attention.  He called the girl by name because his inner voice said that was the elf maiden’s name, not because she had given her name.  “Just to be clear, how old are you?”  Ellean lost her smile and looked like she was embarrassed by the question.  Macreedy spoke for them both.

            “I will be one hundred and ten this year,” he said proudly.  “Ellean is seventy-three.”

            “Only,” Ellean said and she looked down at the fire.

            Sandra felt the shame and reached out to the girl.  “Women mature faster,” she said.

            Ellean did not take Sandra’s hand, but she did look up and smile briefly.

            “That’s years,” Glen said, and Sandra looked at him in surprise.  She was thinking it was something like maybe a lunar calendar, with Macreedy looking about nineteen or twenty and Ellean appearing to be sixteen or so.  “Standard counting is roughly between five and seven to one, like dog years except we are the dogs.”  Glen concluded, and he pulled himself a bit closer to the fire.  After a moment, Sandra also scooted closer in order to close the circle.

            “Old Lord Inaros is reported to be fifteen hundred years old,” Macreedy said.  “But that is extremely rare, even among elf-kind.”  He smiled for Sandra, but Sandra was not paying attention.  Ellean was staring at her.

            “What?”

            “I was wondering if your real name is Cassandra,” Ellean said.

            “Her hair is too blond.”  Macreedy interrupted and shook his head.

            “There are dyes.”  Ellean came back, but this time Sandra shook her head.

            “Just Sandra,” she said.  “Why?”

            The elves paused to look at each other before Macreedy spoke.  “Our goddess was once named Cassandra,” he said.  “It is not to be spoken of with humans, but I can say this much, that we have many gods and goddesses, but they are all one.”

            “I thought maybe…”  Ellean began to speak, but Macreedy took her hand to quiet her.

            “So we still do not know how you came to be here,” Macreedy said.  “Even if Miss Sandra managed the passage by some virtue remaining in her blood, it does not explain the presence of this man.”

            Glen reached for Sandra’s hand and she readily gave it, and her smile, too.  “We are thinking of doing a lot of things together,” he said, and Sandra’s smile broadened.  “How about you two?”

            Macreedy shifted in his seat and looked a little uncomfortable as he glanced at Ellean and dropped the girl’s hand.  Ellean had no trouble matching Sandra’s smile.  “We have talked,” she told Sandra and she held out her hand again, but Macreedy did not take it

            “But about how you got here,” Macreedy spoke hastily to try and get back on the topic, but he was interrupted by a new voice from the door.

            “I missed the last ones, but I got you.”  A booming deep, and unearthly voice spoke over Glen’s shoulder.  It was the kind of voice that gave him chills, and the kind that even penetrated Sandra’s screams. Glen got to his feet, dragging Sandra to her feet with him and backed the two of them away from that voice.  The creature stood nearly nine feet tall and was so horrible to look at, Glen’s stomach nearly let go and Sandra could not stop screaming.  Glen had to turn Sandra’s face into his shoulder where she did not have to look at the thing to get her quiet.  This brute, and the word ogre came to Glen’s mind, was covered in warts that sprouted little hairs that looked more like cactus spikes than hairs.  He had several boils on the surface of his skin, if it could be called skin, and a few of those were burst and leaking a pink and yellow puss.  It had a mouth so full of yellow teeth that Glen could not see the back of that maw or count the teeth if he wanted to, not the least because of the green drool that was leaking out over the edge of the lower lip.  It also had a small spark in the eyes that glared at them as if to say that this creature was alive and aware; but to be sure, it was a very small spark.

            “I am going to have you for an afternoon snack,” the ogre roared, and he hefted a club the size of a small tree.

            Glen heard the words “don’t panic” in his mind as his mouth sprang into action, though he was hardly aware of what he was saying.  “Well, if you are going to have us for tea, make sure there are plenty of biscuits, and by all means keep the kippers to yourself.  Those things are almost as slimy and disgusting as you.  Gods you are an ugly beastie.”

            The ogre paused and lifted his head.  “Do you think so?”  He spoke with some doubt in his voice.

            “Oh, yes,” Glen assured him.  “Very ugly.  Frighteningly ugly.  You heard the woman screaming, didn’t you?  Now, let’s get on to tea, you lead the way.”

            “Huh?”  The ogre paused and Glen’s words caught up with his little brain and he guffawed.  “Have you for a snack.”  He guffawed again, and believe me, that is a sound you never want to hear.  Glen had to swallow the bile to keep it from coming out and Sandra had to bite her lower lip, hard, to keep the screams at bay.  “Say, now.”  The ogre stopped laughing and a terrifying looked crossed his face.  “Hold still.”  And he lifted the club.

            Glen’s eyes got wide, but he was looking a little to the ogre’s left side, and he pointed dramatically in that direction and yelled, “Look!”  The ogre turned to look.

            “What?”  He wondered, but by the time he turned again, Glen had grabbed Sandra’s hand and they were running as fast as they could down the path.  “Hey!”  They heard that yell behind them and then heard the tromp, tromp of giant footsteps, following.  Glen wanted to say run faster, but he was fairly sure they could not run faster.  Sandra did not want to say anything.  She was focusing too hard on her feet.  With all that, it sounded like the ogre was gaining on them, but shortly they ran into something, or I should say another thing they hardly expected.  It was a wall of men, all dressed in dark armor, looking like ancient soldiers, and they all had spears pointed in their direction.  Glen was prepared to stop, but at the last minute the men made an opening in the wall and Glen and Sandra raced through.  The opening quickly closed.  Glen heard the twang of bow strings, and while Sandra collapsed to the ground, he found enough strength left to jump up and holler.  “Don’t hurt him.”

            A second volley of arrows came, the ogre having stopped on the first volley.  Most of the arrows landed in front of the ogre as a warning for him to turn around and go back where he came from, but one of the arrows went straight into the ogre’s shoulder.  The ogre looked more surprised than anything else, and while the arrow did not penetrate deeply, when it fell to the ground some blood followed it.  Glen knew someone was not following orders.  This time he really shouted.  “I said don’t hurt him!” 

            The archers were off to the sides of the wall of spears, hidden in trees and behind rocks.  As Glen shouted, he heard a man moan and someone, or something sounded like it fell to the ground.  Glen could not be concerned about that just then.  Instead, all of his concern was on the ogre who he now felt was like a poor child in need of protecting, as odd as that might have sounded.  If he had thought about it, it should have been strange to think that way about a brute that was trying to eat him, but Glen was not thinking at the moment.  He was too busy pressing up to the back of the wall of spears and speaking to the horrifying beast.  “Prickles, go home,” he said.  “Go home, Prickles.  You need to go home right now.”  He told himself that he did not want to see anyone get hurt, and it was not hard to convince himself of that.

            “Go home?”  Prickles the ogre was trying to figure out what he was hearing.

            “Go home.”  A man stepped up beside Glen, and while Glen did not look at the man, he figured it was probably the commander of this troop of soldiers.

            “Go home, Prickles,” Glen repeated, and the ogre nodded.

            “Go home,” the ogre said.  “Go home.”  He turned and walked back the way he came, his long legs taking him quickly out of view.

            Then Glen breathed for all of a second before two of the spear carrying men grabbed him by the arms.  “Bring them.”  The man who had been standing beside Glen commanded, and they moved to where Sandra was also being held against her will.  Glen and Sandra were directed as to where they were to fall in line.

            “This is getting too weird.”  Sandra finally got a word out.  She pointed at the men’s faces and Glen realized, for the first time, that all of the ears were classically pointed and these were not men at all.

            “Elves,” Glen named them and Sandra shrugged as if to say that she was adjusting, that she was not surprised and that maybe she would never be surprised again.

            “And the beast?”

            “Ogre,” Glen said, but then they had to concentrate on walking because they were moving up into the hills.

            Glen left his Anthropology seminar at two-fifty.  He ran to his dorm and tossed his books in the room by two-fifty-five and ran the rest of the way to Haddon House.  Though he was breathing hard when he arrived, the excitement and adrenaline that was rising up inside of him made it more than worthwhile.  After five minutes, he calmed and thought that maybe she was not as excited to be with him as he imagined.  At ten minutes he thought she may have run into some Friday traffic, so he sat on the steps where he could watch the parking lot and the woods.  It was not much longer before his curiosity and trust began to turn.  He began to doubt.  He wondered if she was coming at all.  He began to think that perhaps she did not have feelings for him  – that perhaps he was just projecting his feelings on her.  It was not much longer before he was wondering if he should go look for her. 

            Sandra arrived moments later.  She squealed her tires and stopped without pulling fully into a space.  She ran out of her car without even turning it off. 

            “Glen.”  She cried out and she did not hesitate to run straight into his arms.  “She is gone.  They are both gone, Melissa and my mother.”

            “What?”  Glen got that much out.

            “I dropped Mother in the main lot and she put Melissa in the stroller while I found a safe place to park.  She was going to walk Melissa across the campus to the fork on the path in the woods.  I followed behind, but not too close so people would not see, you know.”  She paused, but Glen reassured her with a nod.  “I was going to get you and when we caught up with them, Mother was going to have errands to run, you know.”  Glen hugged her and patted her back, but Sandra pulled away and looked into his face as if to gauge his reactions.  There were tears in her eyes, and Glen saw that along with the upset, she was also very afraid.

            “It’s alright.  They must be somewhere.”  Glen tried to sound confident.

            “No.  You don’t understand.  They disappeared.  I saw it.  I was behind, and I saw it.  They were there, a hundred yards ahead of me on the path and I was just about to come and get you when they just vanished.  Glen, I don’t know what to do.  I looked everywhere.  I even went back to the car in case they went back there, but I am sure they did not.”

            “So they turned a corner or stepped behind a tree?”

            Sandra grabbed Glen by the arms and squeezed, hard.  “No.  They vanished, disappeared, went invisible.  Oh, I know it sounds impossible but you must believe me.”  She was pleading.  “One minute they were in front of me and the next they were gone.”  She began to cry.

            “Sandra.”  Glen pulled her close and let her cry into his shirt.  “We will find them.  They must be somewhere.  Show me where this happened.”  Glen was not sure what he believed, Sandra was so sincere. 

            Sandra backed up and without a word, she grabbed Glen’s hand and ran.  Glen did his best to keep up.  They were both worn out when they arrived, and Glen mumbled something about running more that day than the past six months put together, but Sandra had her adrenaline running faster than her feet at that point and she started right in.

            “They were here, I swear.  I was back at the beginning of the trail there.”  She pointed.  “And they were right here and they vanished.  They just went invisible.  I swear to God.  I swear it.”  Glen examined the ground and saw the faint impression of what might be tire tracks from a stroller.  He got down to look more closely, and ran his finger over the dirt.  He realized that these tracks were dry dirt and imagined that something was pushed through when the dirt was moist or wet and made the tracks, which since dried.  Thus he was just admitting that the tracks could not have been from Melissa’s stroller when he found a little pile of seeds.

            “What are these?”  He asked, holding them up so Sandra could see.

             “Pumpkin seeds!”  Sandra yelled and threw her arms around Glen’s neck and kissed him, but it was ever so brief.  “Where did you find them?”

            Glen pointed.  “And look.  There are a few more.”  They were easy enough to see since the seeds were still on the trail. 

            Sandra ran ahead to pick them up.  “Mother!  Melissa, Mother!”  She called out, but there was no response, so she came back to Glen who was slowly moving down the path, looking for more seeds or some other something that might indicate the way they went.  Sandra was still talking. 

            “Melissa is teething and she has a whole bag of pumpkin seeds.  She likes to chew on them.  Mother, Melissa!” 

            Glen grabbed her hand when he found another seed.  “Don’t run off,” he said.  “You need to help me look.”  He paused and looked up at Sandra while he picked up the seed with his free hand.  “They can’t have gone far, but we need to stick to the right trail.”  Sandra just nodded, trusted absolutely, and Glen swallowed.  He did not want to disappoint her.

            “Melissa has a whole bag of seeds.”  She repeated herself, and they walked slowly forward until Glen caught something out of the corner of his eye.  There was a breakaway trail to the left.  It was not easy to see.  It was badly overgrown and rough looking so only a trained hunter might spot it, but it was a trail all the same.  Glen paused.

            “What?”  Sandra asked.

            Glen paused because he was not a trained hunter, or anything close.  He wondered how he could be so certain about the side trail.  It felt like someone was inside his mind, looking through his eyes and helping, somehow, but then he spied a lone pumpkin seed and felt better until he imagined that the someone inside had directed his eyes to the seed.  Glen shook himself to break free of that feeling.  “Here,” he said, and picked up the seed.  As he handed it to Sandra, he lifted an overhanging tree branch and they stepped underneath and into another place altogether.

            “I don’t feel well,” Sandra said immediately.  “I feel faint.”  And she did, and Glen barely caught her before she hit the dirt.  He was feeling a bit woozy himself, but as he went to one knee to hold up the woman in his arms, and as he looked at her tranquil face, his dizzy feelings soon passed.  He felt like he had been in this place before, but that did not make sense because he could not say when or exactly where in this place he might have been.  In any case, if once upon a time he was in that place, it certainly was not with such a lovely companion. 

            “I have to,” he said to himself.  “I can feel guilty about it later.”  He dipped his head and touched his lips to hers, thinking that one kiss would never be enough.  To his surprise, she kissed him back, and with some fervor, though she never opened her eyes.  When they separated, she was smiling and her eyes popped open to look at him; and she began to scream.

            Sandra was twenty-three and a senior at the University.  Glen did not know what she was majoring in, but at twenty-four, that was not what he was interested in.  Sandra was a slim, buxom blond, and Glen was achingly attracted to her.  At the same time, she was showing a decided interest in him; and she was showing it in every way she could think to show it in order to be certain that Glen got the message even if he turned deaf, dumb and blind.  Yet for all of the sexual tension between them; for all of the hormones that filled the air like great clouds, and despite the ache in Glen’s bones whenever she was in the room, and the desire for him that Sandra breathed out every time she was near him, Glen remained a Gentleman, calm and collected, and Sandra remained a Lady, sweet and demure. 

            It was true, an infant could have seen the blood boiling just below the surface.  They weren’t fooling anyone; least of all themselves.  And it was also true that while Glen might have wanted to say, “Come here, babe,” and he certainly wanted to press himself up against her to feel her rapidly beating heart, and he wanted to slip his arms around her and feel her arms around him and hear the shortness of her sweet breath as her luscious, thick lips said yes, o yes, and then he wanted to kiss her without mercy; but he did not.  He could not.  There was something standing between them, and it was something Glen could not name. 

            So they remained apart, at two separate desks in the school newspaper office, and each wondered why the whole room did not just explode.   Glen thought briefly about cursing that something unnamed that was standing between them, but he did not.  He knew curses always carried consequences.  Curses were always more than mere words.

            “Damn.”  Glen could say that much.  He was staring at the electric typewriter and the blank page in front of him.

            “What?”  Sandra asked, but Glen did not answer, so after a short time of staring at him and thinking thoughts that she imagined Glen could not guess, Sandra went back to her textbook, and Glen got up and walked to the window.

            Glen was only a junior in school, having wandered through three other schools, with plenty of time off before ending up at the University which was a small but very good school in New Jersey, not far from his home.  If not for his own history, he might have questioned why Sandra was older than most of her classmates, but he did not.  Instead, he remembered Diana, the young woman he dated a bit more than a year earlier. 

            He remembered how she betrayed him – how he came home one day and found her in bed with his roommate.  He understood that it was not really her fault.  He remembered that it was not his fault either, though he could not exactly remember why; but she betrayed him all the same.  He had been alone for a long time since then, but now Sandra seemed to be so willing.

             Glen tried telling himself that his reluctance to get close to her was because he was afraid of being betrayed again, but that was not true.  He was healed enough to where he was beginning to feel desperate to get close to someone again.  He tried telling himself that his reservations with Sandra were because he did not really know this girl, this lovely young woman, or much of anything about her; but to be honest, young men in their early twenties rarely think about a woman as a person until later; and especially when the attraction is so strong and so mutual; and, just to be fair, most women know this and dress and act accordingly.

            “I think I just need to go back to my room and get some sleep,” Glen said.  “I really am too exhausted to get any work done.”  That was true enough.

            “I could drive you,” Sandra offered, though she was not sure exactly which dorm he lived in.  She was living in town, at home for some reason.  Glen wondered if maybe she could not afford to live on campus.  “I’m late getting home myself,” she said as put her books away and was ready in no time.  She only took a second to straighten her sweater and run her fingers through her long, curly blond hair. 

            Glen just had to watch, especially knowing that she wanted him to watch.  He loved that white knit sweater.  It made a perfect V shape that hid little and suggested everything, and he felt sure she was wearing nothing of significance beneath the knit.

            Glen tore his eyes away and got his own things.  “It is hardly a walk to the dorm.”  It was a small school so the whole campus was within easy walking distance.  Glen pointed this out, but the protest was so feeble they both ignored him, and Glen thought how glad he was that he had a single room. 

            With that thought making all kinds of suggestions echo through his mind, Glen turned off the light and held the newspaper office door so Sandra could go out first.  She obliged, ignored the fact that there was plenty of room,  and brushed by him, or rather up against him, touching in several places as she passed.  Glen did not even check to see if the door locked behind them.

###

            Once in the car, with the windows up and only the light of the distant dormitory buildings and the stars overhead to shine down on them and bring a glow to their faces, Sandra and Glen began to talk.  It was not about much, at first.  It was mostly just talk, like empty words about some of their past experiences, their interests and such.  Sandra asked if he was seeing anyone, and Glen felt every ounce of hope in that question.  Glen started into his routine answer about Diana, not that she betrayed him, but that they broke up when he transferred from the State College to the University; but then he thought he had better be more honest.

            “It was a strange relationship from the beginning.  I found out that she had been abused as a child, and when we met, she left a guy who was abusing her again.  I kind of went overboard to make sure I was a gentleman the whole time, but I guess it is true that nice guys finish last.  She could not handle being with a nice guy, so after about a year she ended up in bed with someone who slapped her around.”  Glen shrugged.  He could never understand why some women can’t feel love unless they are with jerks who treat them like dirt, and of course, that isn’t love, it is only a kind of masochism.  “Well, anyway, that is past history.  So how about you?”

            Sandra turned away from Glen and Glen was surprised but certain that there was a tear or two.  Clearly it was something she did not want him to see.  He had the good sense to wait, patiently, though he did slip his arm around her shoulders to offer his comfort.  He could not help that.

            “Most men don’t want a used woman,” Sandra said at last.  She turned again to look into his eyes with such hope and longing it staggered Glen.

            “Don’t be so sure, there are all kinds of men in the world,” Glen said.  “Anyway, this is 1978 and aren’t you liberated or something?”  As was normal for him, Glen was trying to lighten the intensity of what she was feeling, because he was feeling it too.

            “Glen, I have stretch marks,” she said without any lightening in her tone at all.  She took his free hand and leaned into him ever so slightly as if to say, thanks for the comforting thoughts, anyway.

            “What?”  Glen did not get it, and he made her sit up again so he could look her in the eyes.

            Sandra looked in Glen’s eyes as well and she saw that he really did not get it.  She wondered how he could be so smart and so stupid at the same time.  “Glen, I have a baby.”

            “A baby?”  Glen still did not get it exactly, but his mind began to race.

            “Melissa.  She is two.”  Sandra said, and then it sunk into Glen’s brain and they got quiet.   For a long time they just looked at each other, face to face, living in the privacy of their own minds and feeling ever so much.  At last Glen leaned forward even as she leaned up and they kissed.  She let go of his hand to put her hand behind his head as if she was not going to let him go.  Her lips were moist and warm and everything Glen imagined they would be, and when they finally parted, Sandra was grinning like a woman who got what she wanted.  But then the something between them rose up inside of Glen’s soul and he pulled slowly away and took his arm back in the process.

            “Can I see you tomorrow?”  Glen asked, and then he amended the statement.  “Can I see you and Melissa?”

            “Oh, no,” Sandra tried to protest.  “I could never bring her to school.  People would ask too many questions and I just couldn’t.” 

            “Three O’clock.  It’s Friday and the campus will be empty.  We could walk in the woods so no one would have to see and ask questions.”  The University had natural woods at the back of the campus where nature trails had been made.  They were perfect for just such an adventure.

             Sandra shook her head ever so slightly, no, but she did not say anything, and the look in her eyes certainly said, yes. 

            “Come on.”  Glen prompted knowing that one kiss was never going to be enough.  “You and Melissa.”  He said it with more certainty and Sandra relented as her head began to nod.  She looked down and took both of his hands as if wondering if this might be the one.  She was not ready to go home.  She wanted to spend some more time with him right then, and maybe share everything, but by then the something was very strong in Glen’s spirit and he gently pulled his hands free, picked up his backpack and stepped out of the car.

            “Three O’clock,” he said.  “I’ll meet you beside Haddon House.”  That was the dorm closest to the woods, and Glen closed the car door before Sandra could answer.  He walked away, still feeling her breath in his face and touch of her lips on his, and the back of her hand holding him agreeably which said to him, “Hold me, too and don’t let go,” and he was wondering what he was getting himself into.  Sandra had a baby.

            “I need to check in and see what the lab has discovered about the equipment we captured.”  Boston changed the subject.  “We had better move fast on devising some countermeasures because it looks like we may have to defend ourselves again.”  She smiled and kissed Lockhart on the head much as Lady Alice had done, and she patted him on the shoulder while she gave one, longing look at Glen like she did not want to miss anything, but she left.

            “I need to arrange a trip to the White House in the morning, I guess.”  Glen turned to Lockhart.  “Would you mind helping with that, or do you have other duties?”

            “Right now, you are my duty,” Lockhart responded.  “And kid, when are you going to start telling rather than asking?”

            “In my next life, no?  Maybe the one after that.”

            Alice looked up from her notes and picked them up along with her laptop.  “I do need to start working on that treaty, though I don’t see how it will help.”  The three of them left together as Belden turned to Ms. Franklin.

            “I need a drink.”.

            It was well into the night before things had calmed down to the point where anyone thought of going home.  Despite her prediction, Bobbi managed to wrap things up well enough by midnight so she could take a break for some sleep.  It was far too late to get rooms in town, so she brought Glen and Alice to the infirmary where there were beds and they set up a partition to separate the boys from the girls.  Glen, Lockhart and Fyodor, who had a home but lived alone and so opted to stay with them, got one side.  Alice, Boston and Bobbi took the other, and it looked like it was going to be a quiet night until the women decided they wanted to talk.  The men tried to ignore them, but the women did not talk long before Alice invaded the men’s side.  She said she had too many questions to sleep, and Boston came because she did not want to miss any of the answers.  Bobbi relented last of all and arrived to ask who brought the marshmallows.

            “That is an interesting piece of clothing you have on.”  Boston noticed.  Glen was wearing what on a glance might have passed for a plain, white undershirt and boxers, but on closer examination it had a sheen to it that no ordinary cloth would have.  When the people brought clothes for them all to sleep in, and fresh clothes for the morning, Glen said, “Thank you,” but he would wear what he had.

            “Fairy Weave.”  Glen named the material.  “It is what I wear under my armor and it is extremely light and comfortable, extremely tough and durable, and extremely versatile.  I can change the color.”   As he spoke the fabric changed from white to blue to red and back to white again.  “I can change the shape and make it appear thicker, more like real clothing.”  The arms of his shirt lengthened to full length and his shirt took on a brown and fuzzy appearance, almost like a winter coat before changing back to a white t-shirt.  “It keeps me warm in winter, and acts almost like air conditioning in the summer, which is great when I’m in chain armor and leather and it is ninety or better outside and humid.”  Glen became introspective, but Alice was not about to leave him alone after that demonstration.

            “Fairy Weave.”  She said.  She had her steno pad with her.  “You don’t mean real fairies, of course.  After all that has happened today, that would just push credibility beyond the beyond.  I’m assuming you mean some different sort of aliens, and that clothing is the result of some fantastic technology, no?”  She was looking around but no one was saying anything until Boston could not contain herself.

            “I always dreamed of fairies when I was young.  I wish I could see one someday.”

            “Young?”  Lockhart looked up from where he was lounging in his bed.  “You mean like last night?”  At least Bobbi smiled.  Boston was the youngster in the group.  Glen imagined she could not have been over twenty-five.

            “You know what I mean,” Boston whispered and stared at Lockhart, but that exchange was overshadowed by Alice’s outburst.

            “You can’t be serious!”

            “Can you think of anything that would mess up history quicker than a bunch of spiritual creatures running around loose in the world?”  Bobbi offered the thought.

            Glen protested quietly.  “Hey!  That’s my line.”

            Bobbi turned to look at Glen.  “As I understand it, he was given responsibility for what he calls his Little Ones when he was first born and he has had to bear that burden ever since.”

            “I think after some six thousand years they have finally gotten the message, though,” Glen added.  “They have no business interfering or even making remote connections with the human world.  I had a few on my crew when I was a Privateer in the West Indies some years back, but really, in the past few hundred years it has only been incidental contacts.”

            “Incidental?”  Fyodor spoke for the first time.

            “Apart from Lincoln’s wife,” Lockhart said, and to Alice he explained in a secretive whisper.  “She’s an elf.”

            “Was,” Bobbi corrected the man.  “But she has been gone for two years now.  I was meaning to ask, but with all that has been going on, it slipped my mind.”

            Glen looked up at the ceiling like he did on the ship at one point.  It was like he was looking for something that only he could see.  “The transformation on Alexis was very thorough, unlike Mirowen, not Doctor Robert’s Mirowen—she’s and elf, too—but you did not know her, the other Mirowen.  Sorry.  I’m not getting anything about where Alexis might be.”

            “Lincoln spent a lot of time looking for her,” Bobbi said.  “Maybe that was why the Vordan picked him up so easily.”

            “Topic, people,” Alice interrupted, loudly.  “We are getting off topic.  I want to hear about the fairies.”

            “Why are you surprised?”  Fyodor asked.

            Alice shook her head.  “I don’t know anymore,” she said flatly.

            “Maybe a story would help,” Glen suggested, and the others were agreeable.  “I would think with this campout, though, wouldn’t you all rather hear a ghost story?”

            “No!”  Bobbi, Lockhart and Fyodor all shouted in unison.  Boston and Alice just looked at each other with yet more questions.

###

NOTE: You are welcome to click the tab “Traveler Tales” above and read the story from the beginning.  You can read the whole thing as written or just the Vordan story, or just a short story or two as you please.  Enjoy.

            Legal was on the third floor and pretty badly damaged by the look of it.  Most of the files against the outer walls were unscathed, and the important stuff was in the mainframe in the third basement – the bomb shelter.  Alice met some of the others, but hardly took the time to get to know them before she swooped up a laptop, a steno pad and a pen and followed Glen and Lockhart.  Boston showed her how to tap into the internal network so she could work while she watched, but she was not going to miss this.  The pen and paper were for writing down questions she planned to ask when she had the chance, and she already had a couple of doozies.

            The prisoner was in an isolation tank.  There was a bed, a table with three chairs around it and a fourth chair pushed against the wall.  There was also a toilet and sink behind a short partition, but that was it for decorations.  And then there was a mirror behind an unbreakable plastic partition which was, of course, see through on the other side.  Currently, the Vordan was sitting at the table with his back to the mirror, and Alice expressed surprise saying that she did not realize they could sit since they appeared to her to walk rather stiffly.

            “Probably not as stiff as it would walk now,” Glen said.  He noted that the Vodan was bandaged in several places.  The doctors had been in there to take tissue and blood samples, but otherwise he guessed no one else had ventured into the room.  He was wrong.

            “Mister Lockhart?”  The man, Belden, asked without asking before he answered Glen’s question.  Lockhart merely nodded and Belden opened up.  The woman in that room, Ms Franklin, was busy typing and taping everything the Vordan did and recording every noise it made, but she watched the exchange between Belden and Glen as well, having some questions of her own.

            “Actually, two security officers and professor Singh went in to see if they could communicate with the creature.”

            “Person,” Glen corrected.  “Just because he isn’t human, that does not make him less of a person.  And I bet he rushed the guards.”

            “It – he tried to,” Belden said.  He looked again at Lockhart as if to say he now had a different set of questions in mind.

            “Yes, well don’t do that again without permission.  Being taken prisoner is a great shame.  He will try to get you to kill him as penance for his sin, and then you will have nothing.  Just think of the Japanese in World War II.  One opportunity and it is hari-kari.”  Glen stepped up to the glass but was interrupted when the phone rang.  Belden answered it.  He listened a minute and mumbled and held out the phone to Lockhart.

            “Land line’s back working I see,” Lockhart said without showing any interest in touching the phone.

            “It’s for the Traveler?”  Belden did not know what to do except cover the phone to not be overheard.  Boston pointed at Glen.

            “Who is it?”  Glen asked.

            “It’s the director, sir.”  Belden held out the phone.

            Alice mumbled as she wrote a note on her notepad.

            “Tell her I’m busy,” Glen turned back to observing the Vordan.  Unfortunately, the Vordan did not seem to want to do anything other than sit there.  When Glen turned around a second time he saw that everyone was staring at him with open mouths, except Lockhart who was stifling his laugh.  “Oh, OK,” Glen took the phone.  “Bobbi?  Yes, I am busy.  I was thinking of waterboarding.  Huh?  No, just kidding…  What?  I don’t know anything yet, you interrupted the process…  Calm down, you will know as soon as anyone…  Huh?..  So sit on them.  Tell him to tell them… Tell them that for the first time in history we are all in this together and now is the time like no other to support and help each other, not accuse each other.  We need to let the experts do their job if we expect this threat to be neutralized… I don’t care if they don’t believe him…  Tell him to tell them anything you like.  Look, by the way, tell him I will be up there sometime tomorrow.  There is something I need to get out of his office… A secret compartment… No, I’m not going to tell you, oh, wait, that would be Lincoln’s office…  Yes, Abraham Lincoln.  I had to hide it in a hurry… No, I’m not kidding.  I suppose that would be the Lincoln bedroom now.  Just tell him to try not to push any buttons between now and then… Yes, that time I was kidding.”  He handed the phone back to Beldon with one more word.  “Sheesh!”

            “So?”  Alice had to know even if no one else did.

            “So the President called.   A couple of governments are making noises like the strike on their territories was an American plot.”

            “That’s ridiculous!”  Ms. Franklin was the one who expressed what everyone felt.  Glen looked back at the Vordan again with a final comment.

            “There is a lot to be said for Boom-de boom, boom.”

            “So what now?”  Alice asked.

            “So now I have to be someone else.”

            Boston drew in her breath with excitement.  Belden and Ms. Franklin did not know what this strange man was talking about.

            “Who?”  Lockhart was curious.

            “Lady Alice,” Glen said.

            “Me?”  Alice looked surprised, but Lockhart and Glen waved her off.

            “I thought she was tied to Avalon,” Lockhart said.

            “Not tied, exactly, but she is more contemporary than the Captain, in a way, and she is tied into the organic net.  The change isn’t required, but in my brain there would be some lag time in speaking as the language would have to be filtered through my memory.  She has direct access.”  Lockhart shrugged.  He did not quite follow that, but he smiled when Glen went away and Lady Alice stood in his place.  Boston clapped.  Ms. Franklin shrieked, but softly.  Belden had his mouth open, and Alice shook her head.

            “What?”  Lady Alice asked her namesake in a voice as sweet as her looks, and Alice the lawyer thought this woman was almost worse than the Princess.  This one easily stood about five-ten with blond hair and medium, sort of light brown eyes that were piercing – not a description normally associated with brown eyes.  What is more, that evening gown kind of a dress she was wearing showed off her slim body perfectly.  Any supermodel would die to look like that, and it seemed that the dress itself enhanced this beauty’s movements in a way that was more than supermodel graceful.  She was sort of ballerina graceful, or even more graceful than that; and she was very pale, like she never spent time in the sun.  Lady Alice just finished kissing Lockhart gently on the forehead when Alice the lawyer wrote “Avalon” on her pad and spoke.

            “So you are, what?  The Fairy Queen?”  That summed things up nicely.

            “No.”  Alice of Avalon laughed a laugh as sweet as the rest of her and the other Alice thought this one is very different.  She could see the Princess was a great tease and that she had a bit of a bawdy side, but this one probably did not know what bawdy was.  This one came across as totally innocent, like a perpetual virgin.  What is more, the Princess was more, well, everything – the kind of sexy, attractive beauty that men might fight and even die for.  This one was more the kind that could only be dreamed about and admired from afar.

            “No?”  Alice the lawyer found her hand writing fairy queen on her notepad and then was amazed at what she heard.

            “But I have perhaps been spending too much time with her of late.  She is so enchanting and rather hard to resist.”

            “Alice of Avalon lives in Wonderland.”  Lockhart smiled and pointed at the Lady.

            “Not exactly,” Lady Alice countered and she shook her finger at the man like a school girl might scold a little boy.  “But near enough.”  She dropped her hand, smiled that enchanting smile and gave Lockhart another kiss on the head.

            “Um.”  Boston hardly knew what to say.

            “Lovely to meet you, Boston, dear,” Alice said.  “And Belden the brave, and Ms. Franklin too.” 

            The lawyer wrote on her pad, “and Toto too?” but Lady Alice was not finished. 

            “Now, I am sorry, but I will have to erase any record of my being here, and while that may make things more difficult in a way, you must trust me that it is safer.  And now, I am going to need some help with this work.”  She held out her hand and a metallic circle appeared in her palm.  Ms. Franklin held back the shriek this time, but Alice, the lawyer shrieked softly.  She held the volume at bay by writing “magic” on her pad. 

            Lady Alice stepped up to the window and picked up the microphone with one hand while she placed the circle against her throat with the other hand.  She paused and coughed a sweet little cough to clear her throat, a sound so sweet, Alice the lawyer was almost sickened from the sugar overdose.  Then Lady Alice spoke in a deep male voice that sounded like gears grinding in a factory with some crashing of waves against rocks and jackhammers making those rocks into gravel.  And it was loud enough to make everyone cover their ears. 

            The Vordan immediately stood and answered in kind and he seemed willing to carry on a dialogue for a while, but soon enough, he shut his mouth and though Alice tried several more times, the Vordan clearly decided to say no more.  Alice set down the microphone, backed up and sighed, and it was such a pleasant sound after that cacophony of conversation, everyone sighed with her.  And then she was gone.  She took that little metal circle with her, and Glen returned. 

            “Not much information.”  Glen said immediately as if he had conducted the interview himself, which Alice the lawyer was beginning to understand that in a sense he had.  “This one is merely a soldier and I don’t think he knows anything, except this is not the place they had planned to come and he was not sure if his superiors know how to get home.”

            “Great!”  Lockhart threw his hands up which said he thought it was anything but great.  “So we may be stuck with them, and that could make them very dangerous.  Don’t underestimate what desperation can do.”

             The building looked bad from the outside.  Most of the systems were down, not just communications, and there was smoke billowing out the front doors.  Some of the fires had just been extinguished.  People waited at the door and others ran up to Bobbi with reports as Bobbi, Glen and Alice made their way inside.  Bobbi never stopped walking so everyone had to keep up.  Some chose to walk backwards.  They stared at Glen and Alice, but since they were with Ms. Brooks, no one bothered them, and no one hesitated to speak in their presence.  The first thing they all heard was that there were reports coming in from around the globe on the emergency short-wave frequencies.  They were in code, of course, and that took a bit to translate without the computers functioning properly.

            “They hit offices around the world at more or less the same time.” 

            “It looks like a very coordinated effort, but we drove them off and so did most of the other operations centers.”

            “A couple of F-15s flew over from the capitol and the attackers did not appear ready for that kind of fight.  They got out, but the fly-boys managed to disable one of their landers.”

            “We hauled it into the back barn which is why you didn’t see it.”

            “We got a prisoner on ice.”

            “Personnel.”  A woman spoke above the din.  “Three dead and seven wounded.  All others accounted for apart from your crew.”

            “Readouts indicate a standard plasma propulsion system.”

            “Weapons appear laser-like with minimal disrupter effect.”

            “Hold it.”  Bobbi reached a door, stepped in and let Glen and Alice in with her, but kept all of the others out.  “Give me five minutes, then I want to hear the report from personnel first.”  She nearly shut the door before adding, “Oh, and they are called Vordan.  Start a search if the mainframe is still operational.”  She shut the door firm and loud and looked at Alice.  “The truth is we are all just paper pushers.”  She took the big seat behind the desk and let out a great big sigh.

            “Bobbi was a file clerk when I met her.”  Glen grinned.

            “I probably file more things now than ever,” Bobbi responded with a grin of her own.

            Glen sat in the chair that faced the desk and fiddled with the pens in his pocket.  Alice opted for the couch where she could keep an eye on the two of them, and on the door. 

“Well?”  Bobbi said the word but her tone showed the exasperation at having to say it out loud.

            “Well what?”  Glen was thinking.  Alice was about to say something when Glen continued.  “Sounds military to me, coordinated like that.  You said battleships on the moon?”

            “We just called them that because we did not know what else to call them.  Lincoln calculated that they were about the size of battleships or maybe air craft carriers.”

            “Yes, where is Lincoln?”  Glen asked.  He remembered the man from several past encounters.  Not the bravest fellow.  CIA if he remembered correctly.

            “Disappeared,” Bobbi said.  “About the same time we discovered the Vordan.”

            “Not likely a coincidence,” Glen said.

            “Could not possibly be,” Bobbi agreed. 

            “Too bad because I bet he could have everything summed up by now in that little notebook of his.”  Glen pulled a pen and pretended to write like he was holding a little hand-sized notebook.  He also made a face which Alice felt must have been a fair caricature because Bobbi laughed, softly, before she burst out with it.

            “Glen.  I have three dead.”

            “I know,” Glen said.

            “I don’t understand,” Alice admitted.  She was feeling rather useless at the moment.  Glen smiled for her as he explained.

            “They send a ship into the Carolinas.  I assume you had no trouble tracking it.”

            “Easy,” Bobbi said.  “We know they have two dozen or so ships outside the atmosphere, but normally we can’t track them at all.  They don’t show up on any of our systems.  We only know they are there because of the night shadow effect.”

            “Night shadow?”  Alice asked.

            “Call it the eclipse effect.  They show up by blocking the incoming light of the stars; like the old witch flying across the face of the full moon.  Anyway, this time they want to be seen to get Bobbi and her crew to follow in force.”

            “We figured it was a set-up and alerted Washington and prepared to defend ourselves, for all the good it did, but Boston figured out who they were after and so we had to go.”

            “You?”  Alice looked at Glen.  “But you don’t die.”  She felt she understood that much whether she believed it or not.

            “No, but as a baby I would not be much of a threat to them, especially for the first nine months.”

            “I see.  Of course.”  Alice gulped.  “You mean I could be your mother someday?”

            Glen lowered his eyes as he looked at her.  “Right now, I could be your father, and don’t worry, I have no intention of dying any time soon.”

            “I see,” Alice repeated herself.  “So if this outfit, organization or whatever…”  She waved her hands to indicate the building and everyone in it.  “If they don’t follow the Vordan ship, you get killed, but if they do follow, they take away a big chunk of their defensive capabilities and their headquarters becomes vulnerable.”

            “That sums it up,” Glen said, but before he could add a thought there was a knock on the door.  Lockhart came in.  His wheelchair had plenty of self propulsion options, but it looked like he preferred to have Boston push him around.

            “Interrupting, I hope,” he said.

            “Director.  You have a whole line of people waiting outside.”  Boston spoke overtop.

            “Shut the door,” Bobbi insisted, and turned quickly to Glen.  “So what are you going to do?”  She asked.

            “I need to get Alice started on her job,” Glen said.  He leaned forward and took a clean page from Bobbi’s legal pad, then he used his pen to write the words, Kargill, Reichgo and Zalanid on the paper and handed it to Alice.  “There are other spellings, but what you want is to corral the legal freaks in this place and get them all working on digging up whatever they can find on the Reichgo-Kargill treaty, terms and conditions, clause after clause.”

            “Treaties.”  Alice said the word and shook her head softly.

            “Think binding contract.  We need something we can use legally against the Vordan.”

            “Will I be arguing in some galactic court or something?”  Alice sounded uncertain about that prospect.

            Glen laughed.  “No, but here is the quick scoop.”  He sat back down in his chair and motioned the others in close as if he was about to tell the secret of the universe.  “The second Reichgo-Kargill war is about to break out and they will spend the next hundred years or so fighting each other to a standstill.  So, for the second hundred years, they gather allies, well, the Reichgo mostly get help.  The Kargill doesn’t like anybody much.  It just barely tolerates the Zalanid, and, well, anyway, anyway.  The Vordan enter on the Reichgo side, and eventually are given faster than light technology, but that won’t be for a hundred and fifty years or so.  Even then, when the Reichgo and Kargill are wiped out, and I mean they exterminate each other, and the third hundred years finds everybody fighting everybody, we don’t run into the Vordan until long after the peace.  You see?  That’s what I don’t get.  The Vordan are so far away, at sub-light speed it would take years to get here, but a hundred years ago they did not have the technology.  What are they doing here, now?  How did they get here?”

            “I wouldn’t know,” Alice said.  “But the technology seems pretty advanced if you ask me.”

            “Uh-huh.”  Boston was agreeing and nodding her head.  This time Lockhart and Bobbi both looked at Glen. 

            “Believe it or not, on their home world they are not that far ahead of us, technologically speaking.  They are war-like and have ambitions since some fifty, or maybe a hundred years ago their probes confirmed that there are not only planets around some of their neighboring stars, but a semblance of intelligent life in two places.  They poured their resources into developing the means to reach and subjugate those poor alien races, and maybe that war-like drive is the reason the Reichgo took them as allies.  I know that was the case with the Orlan and the Bospori; but at this point, they have simply driven themselves into space and into war.  They aren’t concerned about saving their planet, or greening it, or making nice with everybody.  Do you know what they would do with a rogue state?  Boom-de boom, boom.  Hang the fallout.  Problem solved.”

            “Bospori?  You mean Martok?” Alice asked.  Glen nodded while there was another knock on the door.  A head poked in.

            “One more minute,” Bobbi shouted and the door shut quickly.  “So, Traveler.  What will you be doing?  Don’t think I forgot the question.  I’m not that old, yet.”

            Glen shifted in his seat.  “Yes, well.  I want to get Alice started and then I thought I might go interrogate your prisoner.”

            Alice shook her head in a definite no.  “I mean, I don’t mind the legal work, whatever, but I’m not leaving your side.  Don’t think I am going to miss talking to an alien.”  Glen looked hesitant so she added, “Every accused person needs a lawyer.”

            “We will read him his rights.”  Lockhart laughed and with a look at Boston, they turned back to the door.  Alice rose.  Glen asked a question of his own.

            “And what will you be doing?”

            “Me?”  Bobbi thought that was obvious.  “I’ll be glued to this chair for at least the next twenty-four hours.  I sometimes wonder if you did me a favor.”  Glen suggested she accompany them, but only with his hands.  She shook him off.  She knew her duty.  “Go on,” she said.  “Let me know what you find out.”  And they left.

            Glen turned his eyes upward for a moment as if looking to the heavens might help him bring his memory into focus.  “I was really too young for nursery school.  I know these days kids are in day care almost from birth, but back in 1957 it was rather unusual.  Kindergarten was when most kids got their first introduction to that kind of group, social interaction thing, and my older brother was in kindergarten; but my mother was seven or eight months pregnant with my little sister and so she signed me up, too young or not, so she could spend some quality daytime hours with her new baby.  Of course, back then we did not call it quality time.  It was just time.”  Glen paused to think some more.  “That seems to be the story of my life.  Time, and there never seems to be enough of it no matter how many lives I live.”  Glen sighed and looked at his shoes.  “The school was called Happy Hill.  In later years I always thought it sounded more like an asylum than a nursery school.”  Glen paused again and returned his eyes to the ceiling as if seeking something that could not be found.

            “Go on,” Bobbi urged him gently.  He shook his head so Alice came up with a question.  “So who is this Mister Smith you keep talking about, and what is a Kargill?”

            “Who is the Kargill.”  One of the men at the table suggested.

            “No,” Glen countered.  “In the Kargill’s case, what may be more appropriate.  Mister Smith is a Zalanid and servant of the Kargill.  He spends a lot of time in suspended animation, but the Kargill revives him whenever it has to deal directly with humans, and that is inevitably when there are unauthorized aliens about.”

            “I take it this Mister Smith and this Kargill are more space aliens, like the Vordan,” Alice said, and everyone nodded.

            “That is why we are concerned that he has not shown up, especially since the Vordan have been sending scout ships to Earth for a month that we know of,” Bobbi said.

            “But what gives this Kargill the right to decide which aliens are unauthorized?”  Alice was quick to notice, and everyone looked at Glen, though they knew the basic story.

            “Treaty,” Glen said.  “The Kargill and Reichgo fought a war several centuries ago.  The Zalanid mediated a peace treaty, part of which included the Zalanid survivors becoming servants to the Kargill.  The Kargill got Earth, which was lucky for us because they just sit and watch.  They hate any outside interference with the natural course and development of a planet.  The Reichgo would have had us in slavery.”

            “When was that space war?”

            “Seventeenth Century.  Days of the English Civil War.  I can’t remember much about that time except not liking Cromwell.  I remember it had something to do with my husband.”

            “There’s a thought,” Bobbi said.  “You with a husband.”

            Glen stuck his tongue out at her.  “I have a wife.  No reason Elizabeth should not have had a husband.”

            “But what happened?”  The young woman at the table who was supposed to be working spoke up.  “With little Glen, I mean.”  She caught Bobbi’s look and turned her eyes to the papers in front of her, but her ears were clearly on the story.

            Glen smiled before he stumbled and dropped to the floor.  The plane hit what felt like more than just turbulence. 

“Fyodor.”  Bobbi called out for an explanation.  “Fyodor!”  Bobbi demanded an answer even as the plane settled down.

            “Minute,” came the response.

            “He’s on the com.”  One of the young men at the table spoke and gathered their attention.  He fiddled with the computer screen in front of him and he checked a radar screen behind his shoulder before speaking again.  “F-15 fly-by, and a bit close if you ask me.”

            “Everyone in Washington is paranoid,” Lockhart said to no one in particular.

            “As opposed to you folks?”  Alice asked, dryly.  “So we are going to Washington?”

            “Already there,” the man by the window said.  “My name is Josh by the way.”  He paused long enough to give Bobbi a sharp look but it gave Glen a chance to get a word in.

            “I remember you.” 

Josh continued.  “Our resident black in black is Wilson.”

            “Willie Wilson,” Lockhart interrupted.

            “Any relation to the ball player?”  Glen asked his friend.

            “Basketball?”  Wilson looked up.

            “Baseball,” Glen and Lockhart said at the same time.

            “Kansas City,” Lockhart added.  “Before your time.”

            “Hey!”  The young woman at the table protested at being left out.  Josh corrected the oversight with one word.

            “Boston.”

            “Mary Riley.”  She shook Alice’s hand.  “Pleased to meet you,” she said before she tossed back her red hair and reached for Glen’s hand.  “And an honor to finally meet you.  I’ve read all about you.”

            “There’s a scary thought.”  Glen returned the girl’s smile.

            “No, really,” Boston said.  She took a seat on their side of the table and swiveled away from the table so she could face them all and completely neglect her work.  “Only, somehow I thought you would be taller.”

            “I used to be,” Glen said with a look at Bobbi who understood.  “And sometimes I am.”

            “That was the Princess, wasn’t it?”  The poor girl could not contain herself. 

            “You want to see this.”  Fyodor spoke from up front.  Wilson was already turning on their side of the two sided television.  Obviously, the plane had cameras outside pointed in every possible direction.  Right then, the screen said “Below.”  What they saw was a five story building in a pastoral setting which Glen knew was out in the middle of some Virginia pastures, only the building had a big hole in the roof and smoke was seeping out of the hole.  It looked black down there as well, as if there were no lights at all.  Bobbi did not have to say anything.  Fyodor overshot the building and settled for the flat field beyond, just on this side of some woods. 

            Josh apologized.  “We had no contact with the office since we left.  You said to keep quiet so as not to tip our hand,”

            “But on the way back?”  Bobbi did not look happy, but it did not look like she was mad at her crew, just worried.

            “I thought they were maintaining the silence until we returned.”  Josh spoke honestly enough.  It was not an unreasonable assumption.

            “Well, we’ve returned,” Lockhart said flatly.

            “No.”  Josh shook his head.  “Nothing.  They must have busted the communications center.”

            “And who knows what else,” Bobbi said.  They were down and she was up and getting impatient.  “The door,” she said, but she still had to wait until the engines were off.

            “Boston.”  Lockhart called and the young woman came to wheel him down the ramp.   “My nurse,” Lockhart explained.  Glen and Alice both looked at Josh and Wilson, but the two of them were busy checking and shutting down the systems

            “Ugh.”  Boston shoved a little to get Lockhart’s wheelchair over the lip at the doorway.

            “I’m an equal opportunity employer,” Lockhart said.

            Glen smiled.  “So how is Hello, come in?” 

            “My sister is fine,” Lockhart looked toward the building but did not focus, like he was looking at something far away in space and time.  “Divorced.  But she has three good kids.  She is fine.”

            Glen was glad to hear that she was fine even if he could not exactly remember what had been wrong.

            Several golf carts came down from the building to pick them up and there was not time to say much more.  Bobbi was too anxious and Lockhart would be a few minutes getting down the ramp and saddled up in a cart.  Bobbi got in the first vehicle and patted the back seat.  “Traveler,” she said, and Glen grabbed Alice’s hand and to make sure she came with them.