France had been the escalation point for him, Levon mused. It had happened a few months earlier, of course, but even right when it happened, he had known this was bigger than William ... far bigger. And that maybe he needed help if he was to find out what happened. That maybe this man, this Max Cooper, maybe he was a whole lot more dangerous than anticipated. Max Cooper who lived a quiet life in the country with his cute wife, on his sweet ranch but also was a trained, respected security specialist employed by one of the most powerful and cutting edge defense contractors in the country.

But what else was he, this Max Cooper?

That "what else" was the question he left to Mephisto. To Levon, it only mattered in how it affected what had happened to his brother William.

Why had Levon gone to France? He'd gone because that's where Max Cooper went.

Levon had had returned to Folsom following an unsettling experience in Knoxville with Mephisto. A certain Mr. Dunnell had come to his hotel room to make sure Levon knew that whatever else Mephisto was, it was a company that kept its secrets and never lacked the balls to try to scare off anyone it thought was trying to worm them out.

Not the best of moves where Levon was concerned. He decided to ferret down into Mephisto a bit more ... this time, he used his CIA connections to investigate not the corporate doings of Mephisto but the ownership and officers. This had all the underpinnings of something very personal and he wanted to know everything there was to know about the persons running the company.

Even as he headed back to Louisiana, he was trying to put his new knowledge into some order, some reason. He was unsettled when there seemed to be more questions than answers. The only thing he felt he really knew was that he hadn't convinced himself he knew enough to really know what line William had crossed.

He'd headed back to Louisiana after that encounter, sure he'd covered his tracks again, as yet unsure if Mephisto even knew of Max Cooper's apparent key role in whatever had happened to William.

However, Levon now knew the names of several of the other rogues from the company ... that small group of men who'd been plotting something against Mephisto with whom William had been involved before his disappearance ... the men had been led by a man named Luke Ferris.

Max Cooper had become more than just his best lead ... he appeared to be his best chance to stay ahead of the Mephisto Corporation. Mr. Dunnell apparently believed that Ferris and his group had been intent on industrial espionage ... with Mephisto as the planned victim. They claimed a buyer of their industrial secrets had been meeting Luke and his cohorts in New Orleans. Levon, however, was convinced it was something else. What could this Max Cooper possibly have to do with industrial secrets from Mephisto?

When Levon returned to Folsom, he continued his own surveillance, more and more convinced that Max Cooper had some value to Luke and to Mephisto, even if the company seemed not to know it. If there was anyone Levon trusted less than Mephisto and Max Cooper, it was Luke Ferris, who remained to this day a shadowy figure even Levon's abilities could not crack.

Once back in Folsom, Levon had begun to seek ways onto the property Cooper owned. He'd followed him when he could, which he dared not do too often. He'd followed his wife. He'd even followed the caretaker.

He'd done more in-depth research into each of their backgrounds by then. The caretaker ... Ralph ... made for quite interesting reading. Whatever else he was, this Ralph, he was not just some caretaker, of that Levon was sure. So Levon was now more careful about stalking the property. Confronting either of these men would have been a mistake he would not have made.

So much changed after that day he got an alert from a trace he'd put on the wife's passport. They were going to France. To the Luberon. Levon made reservations that very day, arranging to fly over in the same plane as them. The disguise and alias he used were vintage tools of his trade ... and very effective.

He'd trailed along, staying in a little guest house nearby but not too close that they'd get to really noticing seeing him around the routes they took in the village.

And then one night, he'd followed them to a restaurant. And everything changed for him. Everything.

"What's the matter?" Andy had been watching TV in the aimless fashion of young men, flicking channels and stopping if there was a sexy woman, a sports match or an action movie, then moving on. All at once he had suddenly noticed her silence.

"Nothing. I'm reading," she replied and flipped a page in the magazine that was on her lap. He accepted her answer and continued flicking, finding a cheap horror movie set in a girls' sorority house. In minutes he was lapping it up, giggling at the hammy but incredibly gory scenes.

"Any minute he's gonna come in and slice her throat..." he laughed.

"For crying out loud do we have to watch this moronic stuff?" She jumped up and left the room, running for the bedroom and slamming the door. He sat there for a moment, thinking. What was up now? Okay, she hated movies like that, but it was just a bit of a laugh. Normally she didn't get upset over something like that.

She'd been in a funny mood the past few days now he came to think of it. Quiet and subdued. Not herself. He shrugged it off. She was probably on. No, she wasn't. He remembered now they'd had a quick one this morning before they got up.

"Uma, you sure you're okay?" He got up off the couch where he had been slumped all evening eating chips and drinking beer. Andy rarely got a night off and preferred just vegetating in front of the TV when he did. Opening the bedroom door, he found her sitting on the bed, her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped round. "Have I done something...? Look I'm sorry about the film...we can watch anything you like..."

She shook her head and held an arm out; he joined her on their bed and she snuggled into him. "It's not you, Andy! It's me. I've just been feeling a bit low, that's all."

"Tell me about it?"

She didn't answer for a moment then seemed to make a decision. "Ann's pregnant."

"I know. You told me..." He thought about it for a while. "You feeling left out or something? You know, if you want a baby...Uma, anything...I'll do anything for you...I mean, it isn't like having sex with you is a hardship now, is it...?"

"A baby is not about having sex..." she replied tartly.

"Bloody difficult without it though," he observed and her face relaxed. She grinned and he squeezed her tight. "Is this what you're worried about? That the time should be now?"

She smiled softly and touched his cheek. "No. Not really. Well, I can't pretend that I don't feel a little bit jealous. Even though there's no reason really. I want to wait a while. Really I do. It's more complicated than that...I was thinking about Maximus..."

She felt the slight stiffing in his back at the mention of the name of her former lover. Even now there were some problems lingering over a few of the men in her past.

"This could have been you, you mean? Was that what you wouldn't give him? A baby? Did you break up over that?" Uma had never really explained what had gone wrong. It wasn't really his business anyway. All that had taken place a long, long time ago. She no longer had any desire to rake over the coals of that one.

"No. We never discussed having a family. Well, not specifically. But I presume it was implicit in the way things were going for a time..." she answered honestly. "But no...that is not at all what I meant. Andy...how can I explain this? Back then, when I met Maximus and realized who he was and the whole crazy thing began, I used to try and figure out why this had happened to me and Heather. Why us? As more and more guys crossed and it became obvious that every Crowe film was going to send its character to us eventually, I suppose we just came to take it for granted. I stopped asking questions. After a while, even the surreal becomes just normal life, you know?"

Andy nodded. "You don't have to tell me that. I'm one of the freaks, remember..."

"You are not freaks! How can you say that?" Uma exclaimed, rising up to sit by him. "I never thought that. But I did believe there had to be a reason. And I still don't know what it is. Just recently I started thinking about it again. I got this feeling that I was burying my head in the sand being over here and having no part in it anymore. Like I've deserted my post and maybe I wasn't meant to...Oh, I can't explain it. It's just a feeling... I tried to call Terry but I can't get hold of him. Something's happened to him..."

"Terry? You were going to talk about this with him before me?" Andy said softly. She groaned.

"See? I can't talk to you about it, Andy, because you make it into something else when I do. You make it sound like it's a competition between them and you. You're trying to act like all this never happened. But it did. And big changes are happening back there. Ann is having a baby. I mean, have you any idea how unlikely that is? Jeff and Paul have broken up. Lots of new people are showing up, so I hear, like some floodgate is opening...Terry has disappeared...I'm just kind of worried. Do you think it's something to do with me?"

Andy screwed up his face. "You? What do you mean?"

"Because I'm not there. Because Heather's not there... Like, some equilibrium is being tampered with? Maybe they need us..."

"For what? Good advice? A healing hand with their love affairs? Jesus Christ, are you on that agony aunt kick again? Ann being pregnant is a GOOD THING. Terry disappearing? He was always doing that. He does that kind of job, for crying out loud. Only now he doesn't tell you everything...and what's wrong with other characters turning up? Maybe one of the other women has opened some other secret door? It's just nothing to do with us...You are out of it..."

"Terry broke up with Gaia..."

"Fuck...really? How do you know?"

"Jeff told me. He was talking to Bou. She told him..." Her voice trailed off as she saw the knitting of his brows.

"So you think he might have gone somewhere to lick his wounds? Turn up here or something? They all run for Oz when they want to hide..."

"You mean like we did?" Uma snapped back. Andy winced. She felt cruel for having said it like that. It was no use trying to explain to him. He didn't get her concerns, being too bothered by his own. The news about Terry had immediately made Andy worry that somehow this might mean his relationship might be put under strain again. This was going to go completely off track if she didn't stop it quick.

"You know that was completely different. We needed a fresh start. Looks like Australia wasn't far enough, hey?"

"I don't expect Terry will come here. Why should he? If he's licking his wounds he'll throw himself back into his work. You know how he is..."

"No, I don't actually. That's your province..."

"Andy!!"

Uma flopped back on the pillow in frustration. It was hopeless. You just couldn't reason stuff like this with a man. Firstly, they were too practical and this was just some strange feeling she had. They would never buy into something like that. Secondly, Andy was always going to prowl around her like a dog marking his territory. There was a time that sort of chauvinism had bothered her. It didn't any more. That was how men were and she no longer wished to change what was his nature. Women protect their own corners. Why shouldn't men?

"Come here, you lunatic...I don't know what's the matter with me. I'm probably hormonal...and maybe a little jealous... You're probably right. It feels like all the others are part of the party and I'm left behind. I don't want a baby but I don't want to miss out either...it's just screwing my head up..." She wasn't lying. Partly she did have a lot of ambivalent feelings about the marriages and babies back there: Angel, Bou, Jessie, Clarity, Cassie, Heather and now Ann -even Myra, for God's sake - somehow she did feel left behind.  But there was more. She still had this odd niggling sense - call it a premonition or something. Some sixth sense seemed to be trying to tell her something but she could not for the life of her work out what it was.

Tomorrow she would call Heather. Andy was just going to either get upset or misunderstand. It wasn't worth the angst.

"Hey, I have a great cure for the blues..." Uma suggested, deftly unzipping Andy's battered denims and slipping her hand in. He would soon forget if she got him going. That was another thing about men. They couldn't think about more than one thing at a time.

 He pulled away with a grunt. "Whoah....Drank too much beer. Let me have a quick whiz....hold that thought though..."

On the third day of their busy vacations, unwelcome fluffy visitors invaded the pure blue sky that John had claimed, from the beginning of their stay, to be part of his gift to Clarity, affirming that he had ordered it - and the sun that goes with it - especially for her. She had laughed, telling him that it was a good try but Provence was known for being privileged with more than 300 sunny days a year, or at least it was what the locals used to brag about. To that, he had replied smugly that he was generous enough to have ordered them for the whole Provence, and not only for their little paradise.

So, when the dark clouds arrived, she couldn't resist the pleasure of teasing him by saying that he had probably forgotten to pay his last sun bill. It took more than that to unhinge John. He said that, nope, it was part of the plan too. That they had worked enough and needed a break. That nothing felt better than listening to the rain drops on the roof and looking at the water running along the windows when you were lying in a warm and comfortable bed, in the arms of the one you love. And he added: "Well, almost nothing."

She shook her head, smiling: "You always land on your feet, do you? I knew that about cats, but not about bears..."

He growled and started to chase her playfully, when the clouds suddenly opened and dumped torrents of water on them, accompanied by an impressive sound and light show of thunder and lightning. In this part of France, it generally stopped as fast as it had started, but in the meantime, it was party day for snails and frogs. They were both soaked within a few seconds.

They stopped running, looked at each other and laughed. 'Better get the best out of everything' could have been their motto. They decided to take advantage of the situation to shower, unclothing each other, laughing and kissing under the rain.

But, when they came back in the house, they soon found it less funny. The warm and comfortable bed they were dreaming about... was not so warm and comfortable anymore. The strong wind that had been blowing these past days must have shifted or broken some tiles on the roof, and the rain had invited itself into their home. In their bed.

Not only were the sheets drenched, but, as they soon found out, also their clothes. Water was dripping from several parts of the roof... and of course, the place they had chosen to put their clothes until they would receive the dresser they had ordered, was one of its targets.

They were both standing at the door of the room, looking at the disaster, too stunned to say anything. After a while, John broke the silence. "Seems like our little plans for tonight have been fouled up... the bed is otherwise occupied. Tell you what: it's not going to dry tonight, so what about indulging ourselves in a civilized place again... where beds are dry?"

"But we can't! We must do something about that mess and..."

"It's okay, Clarry, it won't go anywhere. It's going to be dark soon; it will be easier to get all this fixed in daylight, and after a good night rest... that we won't have if we stay here."

"No, no it's fine, let's stay here, John, I love this place. I don't want to go anywhere else. We can sleep... " She looked around and, in fact, saw no place where they could sleep. No dry one anyway. 

He rolled his eyes. "Convinced now? Okay, I have an idea: let's go back to Bonnieux, in that hotel where we spent our honeymoon..."

She didn't hear the rest of his sentence. Her mind had stopped to focus after the word Bonnieux. The fact that their house was in the middle of the country, between the villages of Menerbes and Bonnieux, and not in Bonnieux itself, had helped her to relax and forget about her fears. Of course, Bonnieux was the closest village and it made sense for them to go there if they were looking for a shelter. She tried to think fast.

"Why don't we go back to that bed and breakfast in Menerbes instead, the one where we spent our first stay in Luberon with the others last year, remember? It was nice, wasn't it?"

"It was, but neither of us remember where it was, and even less how to get there from here. Besides, they had only a few rooms, they might not be available. And frankly, I'd prefer..."

"It's October, why wouldn't they have rooms available? And if they haven't, we can still find another one?" 

"Come on, sweetheart, it's late, I'm dead tired, and so are you. The hotel in Bonnieux is the closest, we know where it is, it's big enough to still have rooms available, and they know us. Look at us... do you think any other hotel will let us in looking like this? All I want is to have a good hot shower, a decent night in a big soft bed with my little wife, and a kingly breakfast in the morning... is that too much to ask? Besides, I'd really love to go back to that hotel; I have good memories there... haven't you?"

She caught his patient, but slightly annoyed tone. He was waiting for an answer. 

"Yes, yes... good memories," she muttered, troubled.

She didn't have the heart to disappoint him again and risk another argument like the one they had had at home, when she had found out about the house. She had hurt him then. She never wanted to do it again. She couldn't let that silly dream spoil what they had. That dream was her problem; she had to get over it now, and for good. And going back there might be the best way to do it, after all.

So they left the house, after having placed buckets under the still dripping water, to limit the damage, and headed to Bonnieux. 

It was dark now. The shadows of the old olive trees along the small country road to the village looked almost menacing in the lights of their car to Clarity. She shivered, not really knowing if it was because she was cold in her wet clothes, or... something else.

John noticed it. He put a reassuring hand on her thigh, squeezing it lightly. 

"A good warm bath, that's what you need. You'll see, everything will be great once we get there and get settled in." 

She nodded, and would have given anything to believe him. 

The next morning, after a wonderful night, the smell of coffee woke her up. She panicked for a short while when she felt the empty space in the bed beside her, but heard him humming in the bathroom and laughed at herself. Silly girl! See? They had received a warm welcome in the hotel, from the usual persons who had become almost friends, no Professor Loriebat look-alike manager. They had had a good long resting night in a very comfortable bed. No nightmare. Not even a dream, except the very real dream of the love they had shared. And now, she was going to have the best breakfast she had had in ages, with the best man of the world... hers. She realized how stupid she had been to let all this almost ruin that priceless treasure she had with John. But it was over now. Her fears were gone. For good.

She put her nose back in the soft and good smelling pillows, thinking how life could really be such a gift sometimes, and waited for John to come back to her.

He did. Come back to her, a while later. With their breakfast. She hadn't heard anything, she must have dozed again. He treated her like a princess. It would have been almost embarrassing if it was not so enjoyable! She stretched herself and sighed with contentment.

They enjoyed together the hearty breakfast, then gave themselves one more helping of their second honeymoon. 

"Ah, before I forget..." John said later, munching on his third... or maybe fourth croissant, "... when I called down for breakfast, they told me they would like us to attend a little celebration they have organized for the opening of their new reception room. Remember, they were working on it last time we were here? It's finished now. What do you say?"

"Do they accept naked people? Because I remind you that we have only dirty and not completely dry yet clothes."

He laughed. 

"You have already forgotten about civilization, Mrs. Flintstone? Our clothes have been taken care of while you were playing sleeping beauty. They are all dry and clean now."

"Really? Well, they are still working clothes, not fitting for that kind of event." 

"Come on, it's just something simple, not a big thing, a friendly gathering with a few people, and faithful customers... like us. I'd enjoy the chance to talk with Pierre again, wouldn't you?"

Pierre was the man who had welcomed them the first time they arrived. John and he had become rather friends, talking sports and other kinds of manly things. Pierre was often asking him about hockey and John was delighted to share his passion with him. Why not, after all? she thought.  If that was all it took to make him happy. The mess they had left in the house could wait a few more hours without problem. What could happen worse now? That they found fishes in their bed?

A few hours later, they were drinking and talking friendly with the few people who attended that little private celebration. John was right once more, it was really not a big event, but a pleasant one. Clarity was talking with Sophie, the receptionist when her smile froze on her lips. The manager had just arrived. He walked straight toward John and her, saying "Welcome back," with what looked to her like a devilish smile on his face.

And his face was Professor Loriebat's. 

Levon had the distinct impression initially that this trip of Max Cooper and his wife to France a few months back had been an arranged, romantic vacation. There was something about the way they acted with each other ... she was relaxed, comfortable, watchful over him. He held himself in that same formal way he usually did but there were moments when he would touch her ... those moments seemed so unguarded, so open between them. People get that way when they are off together on holiday, when they relapse into the romantic aspects of their relationship, Levon thought to himself.

Perhaps he should have been more on his guard, Levon thought to himself now. But that first day in the Luberon, they had seemed so wrapped up in each other. For the first time, he witnessed Max Cooper's lighter side, the part of him that would walk down a country lane, his arm around his wife, his head dipped down, his lips curved into a smile. He had watched them stroll away and let them go on without him, knowing there was nowhere he could really hide if he were to follow them.

That evening, though, he covertly tagged along with them as they walked toward a restaurant. Just before they entered, Levon had watched as Max bent toward his wife, his hand stroking down her arm, his mouth at her ear, whispering something that made her blush and then smile. His hand had caressed over her tummy ... it was only after they'd returned from France, after Levon's experience there had made him look in a new direction when it came to Max Cooper, that Levon had realized that Cooper had been stroking his wife's belly because it was a secret between them that she was pregnant.

But Levon had not known that yet. 

When Levon himself went into the restaurant about ten minutes later, all he intended was to take a table and see what happened. He had asked to be seated in a front area, where he could watch the door, so he'd know when they left.

But then he'd seen another couple come in ... the man had caught his attention but at first Levon had a hard time understanding why. It was just that the man looked familiar. He had blond hair, longish. He strode in with a woman and a child. The man's laughter had filled the small entryway and then a waitress had shown them further inside.

Curious, Levon had arisen from his table, on the pretext of using the men's room. Along the way, he'd walked steadily in the direction the blond man had gone. He could hear another booming laugh and a second later, he stepped out into a courtyard full of tables that were surrounded by what was obviously a large party of people having some sort of celebratory meal.

Levon was in a shadow. He was watching them, covertly, from that shadow. He did not wish to be seen.

But if anyone had been looking directly into that shadow, could they have failed to see his white face, a look of shock and horror and confusion there?

For what Levon saw was many men who could have been duplicates of Max Cooper. Sure, they might have had different colored hair ... most were chestnut brown ... and different hair styles and even different ages to some degree ... but they looked to be more than mere brothers or cousins ... the physical similarities were too exact.

Levon watched. He tried to pick out differences. What differences he found were more style than substance. He might have believed Cooper had a twin, even a triplet. But 22 brothers with such identical eyes, mouths, ears, jaw lines, height, body type, feet, hands?

What he realized right then and there was this ... these men were the "science fiction" that William had been chasing with Luke.

They had to be clones.

They had to be connected with Mephisto ... Levon's head rang with warning bells.

For a man who was not capable of being shocked or awed, Levon gave a good imitation of it. He slipped from the shadow where he watched men he believed were clones and stumbled out of the restaurant. He stood looking one way then the other. Suddenly, another two clones appeared. They were younger than Cooper by a number of years ... and looked fit, ominous.

Their appearance from nowhere just after he'd discovered the secret of this group of clones spooked Levon. He strode in the opposite direction, taking care to shake any tail.

Back at his inn, Levon made lists.

Who were the men? How had they been cloned? Was Mephisto more than a high tech, Internet-centered company?  Had Luke Ferris found these clones and planned to exploit them somehow? Was Max Cooper the original or another clone? Why did Max Cooper appear to be the center of Luke Ferris' plans?

How dangerous was Max Cooper? 

How could Levon, one lone operator, manage to learn all that he needed about this Max Cooper and the clones? How could Levon, on his own, continue the investigation? Had William and Luke and the other men been killed by Max Cooper to protect the secret of the clones? Or had Max Cooper done away with Luke and his men in order to continue, in secret, these experiments on cloning? Was it that these clones were being placed in strategic positions in order to further some terrorist plot? Had Mephisto been tracking them? Or was Mephisto otherwise involved?

Levon thought back to all he'd learned about Mephisto ... from research through CIA and affiliate files ... and all that he'd learned from Dunnell and William's frightened co-worker. Mephisto appeared to only be involved in computer software development, Internet research and gaming ... high end techie things, sure, but not cloning? Yet ... yet, he couldn't shake the way William had described his team with Luke as "screwing over" Mephisto.

Surely that would mean that the company would be willing to pay for the information about the clones ... about this gathering, even? Although ... although, truth be told, it was not money Levon was after but information, power and evidence about what Max Cooper had done to William.

That was when the list led him to his next move. Levon realized he needed an ally in this ... an ally big enough and powerful enough to help him figure this out. An ally with a natural stake in this.

Mephisto Corporation, he thought to himself. In exchange for information on the clones and on Max Cooper's central role in the disappearance of Luke and his men, Levon could gain Mephisto's help in tracking the clones and determining why exactly Luke had been so interested in them ... interested enough to break away from Mephisto and interested enough to apparently be willing to run completely afoul of Mephisto in his efforts to make money off this.

For that was the root of it, surely. Surely Luke Ferris and William and the other men were involved in whatever was going on with the clones in order to make money. Wasn't that so much as what William had meant? It had to have been enormous amounts ... and, really, Levon thought, wouldn't evidence of successful cloning of humans be worth more gold and power than any man could hope to ever possess?

He, Levon, was not going to be able to corral and deal with these clones all on his own. He needed help and he needed it fast. He could not turn to anyone in his professional circle for they would think he was insane ... talking of clones? No, that was not the answer. It was only Mephisto ... who could he trust there? Probably no one ... but he still needed help.

The next morning, Luke called Mr. Dunnell. He gave him the barest of information. Clones, he'd told Dunnell, were why Luke Ferris was breaking away from Mephisto. Dunnell had simply said, "It would not surprise me in the least." As if this was not a matter that Mephisto would not know how to deal with, Levon thought to himself.

Less than 48 hours later, Levon had turned over the investigation, agreeing to a collaborative role with Dunnell. A group from Mephisto had come over a few days later, scientists, researchers, computer gurus. They had not made it in time, however, to see the group of clones. By the time they got there, the only clone left was an American with long hair ... the one, as it turned out, for whom the other clones had ostensibly gathered ... to witness his wedding o a French girl.

From Levon's unique perspective, it remained Max Cooper who was his primary target. And so when the Mephisto people said they wanted to stay and investigate this other clone, named John Biebe, Levon had insisted that he be given free rein to return to Louisiana to keep tracking Max Cooper.

And so he had done since his return from France, except for taking time off when his real job had required his travel to Chicago or Houston. Now back for what he anticipated would be relatively regular shifts of weekly visits to keep watch over Max Cooper and his family, Levon drove on toward Folsom as he remembered the plane ride from France. He had slept soundly, more soundly than in months. In his gut, he knew he was close to the answer.

But more than that, he knew he was close to making Max Cooper pay for whatever he'd done to his brother William. 

His first action upon returning to Folsom from France had been to use his contacts to gain access to Max Cooper's medical records. If he was a clone, surely there was something in the medical records that would prove useful ... something that could be compared to the others? He sent DNA samples to Dunnell. In return, Dunnell told him they'd taken samples from Biebe while conducting other tests in some covert operation they assured him that even the subject of the testing would not remember.

While he was at it, Levon checked Cooper's wife's medical records. It was to his great wonder that he discovered she was pregnant. Then he remembered the children he'd seen at the gathering in France. There were only a few but ... but was it possible? Clones having children? He kept this information close to his vest for a week or more. But when Ann Cooper began showing obvious signs of pregnancy, Levon decided to reveal the information to Dunnell, just in case Mephisto had decided to implant their own operative to watch the Coopers.

Observing as Ann Cooper grew larger with child had been an odd experience for Levon. The only other woman he'd ever watched in that way, with that attention to every change in her appearance, had been his wife Claire. Taking the child's life was not to be an option for Levon, the more he watched Cooper's wife grow larger with evidence of the impending birth ... his revenge on Max Cooper would wait until after his child had been born. The child was innocent of whatever sins his father had committed.

Now Levon approached the turn off to the Cooper place. He could not really pull over to the side of the road and wait on one of the people from their ranch to come driving out to the main highway. Not after Ann Cooper had possibly seen him a few days ago ... she would be on alert if she had ... if so, certainly she had also alerted both her husband and Ralph. When he showed himself to her, it would be a time of his choosing and a place where he could observe her reaction closely.

So he drove past their entrance several times in case chance put one of them in his path. Nothing. An hour later, he sat in his rental car across the street from Rosie's Tavern. It was a Wednesday. If Ann Cooper held to her routine, this was a day when she'd come in to Rosie's bearing some wacky dessert that the tavern would sell for the lunch and dinner crowd. She usually did this on Mondays and Wednesdays but there were times when her schedule varied. All he could do was wait and hope she stayed to form this week.

Forty-eight minutes later, he sat still as a stone and watched her car turn down the side street next to the tavern. From his vantage point, he could watch as she was pulling into the small lot behind the tavern. He looked at his watch and timed her. She sometimes stayed inside for hours but since they'd returned from France, her visits had been substantially shorter.

And so it was that thirty-five minutes after she arrived, Ann Cooper was pulling away from the lot. She was beginning to be bored with the way her belly got in the way of driving. Even buckling up was a chore. She was short enough that making room for that huge mass behind the wheel while still being close enough to use the foot pedals was beginning to require some negotiation. Maybe she'd ask Ralph to glue some wood blocks on the pedals so she could reach them ... if this belly didn't stop growing, she was going to need some help like that, she thought grimly. She'd be damned if she was going to just stop driving or was going to have to be driven around by Ralph or Max. She blanched at the very thought of losing her independence.

Ann Cooper was not about to let a little thing like pregnancy rob her of what she wanted to do. When the baby came, she'd adjust her lifestyle to incorporate the baby, she mused to herself as she drove away, but she'd be a fool to let the pregnancy itself make her change too much too soon. Women got in trouble when they stopped being individuals that way, she thought smugly to herself, and she was not going to make that mistake. She'd read all the books, researched everything ... and felt comfortable with all this "having a baby" stuff. Except ... well, except there were those moments when she'd have some blind panic at the very image of her as a mother.

"Nope. Won't think that way. Won't ever be negative. Baby will pick up the vibes ... nope, nope. I will be fine ... I will be great ... this will be fun," she chanted to herself as she drove.

When she reached the highway, she turned right and headed down to Covington. She wanted to make it to the farmer's market that set up twice a month around the old courthouse square there. She loved the activity and the way the people there seemed almost new age in their devotion to "natural" farming ... no preservatives, no nasty poisons sprayed on the fruits and vegetables ... and produce as bursting with vitamins as with headier, more robust tastiness.

She parked down on Boston Street and walked along the bike path about two blocks toward the market area. This was simply another way to force herself to keep exercising. She was reaping the rewards of the extra attention she'd placed on fitness since determining that it was one of the smartest things she could do to ensure a healthier baby and an easier delivery. She was all for the easier delivery part ... nothing really scared her quite as much as that final aspect of being pregnant ... the actual delivery itself. Why was it that other women who'd had babies already insisted on telling her every horrible detail of their delivery or the delivery of some poor woman they claimed to know who'd been in labor for ten days or whatever?

No matter how much she read and researched the delivery itself, she could not wrestle down the fear of it. She blamed her unease on a film she saw in health class in high school ... horrible images of a baby's head coming out and a woman wailing in agony! Obviously, they'd shown the film to make sure the girls in class kept their knees together rather than risk pregnancy and the horrors of childbirth. That film, though, had scarred her for life when it came to childbirth.

Her mother kept saying there was no need to fear ... that with the drugs they'd give her, she'd never feel a thing. Women have gotten through it forever, she'd harrumphed to her daughter, you're being such a weenie. But they don't always get through it, she'd said to her mother. Well, it's too late now for you to back out of it so just stop with the silliness, her mother had said with a wave of her hand.

Embarrassment over this fear kept Ann from ever mentioning it to anyone else after her mother chided her. I'll get over it next week, she'd tell herself ... and then she'd chase the fear from her active mind.

Her sneakers crunched over the gravel path that led the final distance to the farmer's market. She paused just before the first booth and forcibly blew out air ... and along with the air, she blew out the tension.

The tension had a name to it ... Max.

In some ways, he'd eased up on the over-protective bit. In other ways, he was beginning to treat her as if she was a child ... as if she was his little girl, to be doted upon and dowsed with special treats to keep her sweet and happy.

What she really wanted from Max was for him to forget she was pregnant and just treat her like he was supposed to ... like she was just her. Chase her around the kitchen table every so often ... tease her with that sharp wit of his when she got sassy with him ... murmur sexy threats in her ear when they were in public so she could blush and feel the heat of his sensuality soak her in anticipation of the next time they were alone together. There was no way to tell him all this ... no way he'd really understand, she figured.

She hefted a cantaloupe in her hands ... the booth where she'd made her first stop was run by a man named Big Joey and he grew the best cantaloupes and lemons she'd ever beheld. He helped her pick out two fragrant cantaloupes and, as usual, agreed to keep them behind the booth for her to pick up on her way out. That way, she didn't have to lug them all around, he always said to her.

Max loved cantaloupes almost as much as she did. He liked them served to him as breakfast ... cold and quartered, with the rind removed, sitting regally on a plate when he would come down after his shower.

There was something about his smiles at times like that ... as if she could see the tiny boy he must have been. Back when he was still so innocent and indulged by all around him. She wondered if she would have a son ... a son who would look like him.

The next day, they might very well find out if they would be having a son or a daughter. She had waited for the sonogram until now because it had not seemed necessary somehow. But when her doctor said she thought it was about time, she wondered why she'd waited. What if there was something wrong and they found it in this test?

No, she wouldn't think about that, Ann thought as she stopped at another booth further up the way. There, she studied the figs and apples and pears offered for sale. She filled two bags with figs when Clarence said this may be all of this year's figs he'd be bringing to market. Maybe I'll flash freeze some for the winter, she told Clarence.

The next purchase she made was bib lettuce and tomatoes. She learned from that booth that the avocadoes at the next booth were incredible. So she stopped there as well.

It was as she reached for the avocadoes and, in the process, dropped the figs, that it happened. She stooped down to grab the bag of figs and felt her hold on the bag with the lettuce begin to slip ... so she simply stopped and plunked everything down on the ground. She dug out the large net that she carried for these trips and began to pile everything into it. How she'd manage the cantaloupes now, she couldn't imagine, but she'd figure that out later.

Levon had turned and moved behind another booth when she'd surprised him by stepping up to the avocado booth. So he had not seen her drop down to gather her falling purchases. All he knew when he looked back at the avocado booth was that Ann had disappeared.

He scanned the entire scene and still could not see her. He walked rapidly toward the avocado booth just as she rose to her feet from the other side. They were less than 10 yards apart and facing each other.

Her eyes did not focus on the man instantly. She only noticed him because he moved. She was reaching into her purse to pull out the money she owed for the avocados when Levon moved a step back ... and just that little motion caught her attention.

Ann's breath flew out of her. The woman at the booth saw Ann's face go white and her eyes go wide with fear. She turned to see what it was that had frightened her customer so but all she saw was ordinary people.

What Ann saw, though, was a ghost.

The ghost of William.

She braced her hands on the booth. The ghost calmly turned and walked away. Her knees weakened. She held on to the booth.

The woman at the booth kept asking if she was all right. Ann asked her if she'd seen the man ... was it a man?

As soon as the question was out of her mouth, Ann saw the woman's expression and knew she sounded like an idiot. She gathered every reserve she had, paid the woman what she owed, picked up her bag and headed back the way she'd come.

All along the way, each booth she passed, Ann peered right and left, fearful of the ghost's reappearance and equally mortified that she was imagining it was even possible there was a ghost.

She nearly passed Big Joey's booth but he called out to her to not forget the cantaloupes. As she fidgeted with her purchases and tried to find room in her net bag for the two cantaloupes, Big Joey grew concerned over her demeanor. Did she need him to carry her things to her car for her?

"No," Ann heard herself say quickly. "I can do it. I'm fine."

"Won't be a problem," Big Joey said, smiling, indicating her rounded belly. "You got enough you're carrying maybe without all this."

"I can do this myself. I'm not a princess, you know," she said.

"You okay, Miss Ann?"

"I'm fine, Joey. I just hate ..." As she heard herself, she cringed inside. She was going to insult him now? This guy who was always so nice to her? Just because the one thing she hated most of all was when men presumed she could not do something for herself that she could very well do? She took a slow breath, forced herself to calm down. Was she going crazy, seeing ghosts and acting like a total bitch around here? "Oh, you know me, Joey. I'm just going through one of those stages pregnant women do ..."

"Sure, I remember when my wife was at your time ... things just got to her ... Here, you take the bag ... but promise you'll stop and come get me if you change your mind?"

"Yeah, absolutely. Thanks. Can't wait to taste these melons!"

She smiled and hoisted the bag. It was not really that heavy ... she could do this. And she needed to do this for her own sanity ... what on earth had made her imagine she had seen William? She just had to stop doing this ... it was getting worse ... that last time, it had just been some guy and she had freaked out ... this time, she had really come unglued imagining him standing there as if he was watching her.

By the time she made it to the bike path, she had convinced herself she was not going crazy just that she maybe needed to make an appointment with the eye doctor soon. Her contacts must have been acting up. How long had it been since she'd gotten new ones, she was musing ...

A block from her car, she paused to adjust her load. Switched her purse to her other shoulder and the bag's handle to her other hand. She looked up, down the path ... and William's ghost stood not more than five paces from her. She stared at his face ... she could look at nothing but his eyes and his lopsided, sneering lips. He slowly took a step toward her.

When she finally reacted, it was to drop everything she was holding, turn on her heels and run for her life. She aimed for the coffee shop on the corner. Rushing in, tears in her eyes, she grabbed the first person she met, her hands gripping his forearms as she turned in the safety of this space ... sure she'd see William's ghost behind her.

But he was not there.

Her knees buckled and she plopped down hard into a chair. Moments of unawareness passed; two women were fanning her. They asked her who she was ... she had no identification on her. She mumbled about someone frightening her on the path, that she'd dropped everything and run.

Moments later, two teenage boys appeared in her line of vision, holding her purse and her bag of farmer's market goodies. She reached for them as the women forced her to stay seated until her color returned.

They wanted to call the police. When she said no, they wanted to call her family. No, no, no, she said. She let them bring her cold lemonade. Before she finished half, she was annoyed at all the people hovering. I'm fine, she told them. Must have been imagining things, she muttered.

The two teenage boys walked her to her car. They offered to trail her home, to make sure she got there okay, just in case whatever she saw had been someone out to harm her. She considered it for only a second before agreeing.

But by the time she got home and had taken a cold bath, she was convinced that the only thing that was wrong was her own guilty conscience. And then she closed her eyes as she lay on her bed, her dog near her on the floor making her feel safer. In her mind, she heard over and over the words that her husband had once told her ... that she had had no choice when it had come to William's life. There had been no other answer if she were to protect the life of their unborn child.

When Maximus arrived home, he was greeted by the dog Buck. He strode to the kitchen when Ann did not answer his call. Inside, he found all her purchases from the market piled on the counter and the door to the refrigerator was open. She, however, was nowhere to be seen.

He looked at Buck and crooked an eyebrow over this scene. Buck gave a whoof in response and trotted out. Maximus followed as the dog led him upstairs to their bedroom. Shucking off his shoes, socks, jacket and slacks, Max lowered himself onto the mattress, slowly spooning his body into his wife's sleeping form.

His nose was soon buried in her neck where he could sniff her fragrance. It soothed him to hold her like this, when she was so off guard. Her body always reacted to his when he held her like this ... she moved until her contours aligned with his. She sighed and gripped his arm that held her to him.

Rising slightly, he leaned over, intending to kiss the side of her lips, to see if she was close to wakefulness ... but as he did, he noticed the way her lashes were damp ... one unshed tear lingering there in the corner of her eye.

He stroked that tear away and then whispered her name right in her ear. 

When she was fully awake, she reached for him, asked him to hold her tighter ... and he could feel her heart beating wildly when his hand held her breast. Max asked her what was wrong but she claimed nothing.

He knew her well enough to know from the way she said it that he could have badgered her all night and if she did not want to tell him, she would not. He would bide his time. Eventually, it would come out.

It was, in fact, the next day.

He was driving her to the doctor's appointment. She had been jumpy all morning but put it down to excitement over the sonogram. He made definite note of her unease as they reached the highway, where she searched hard both ways, as if she fully expected to see something or someone waiting. She kept her eyes on the side mirror, watching behind them, as he drove.

But still Maximus kept his own counsel about what he was noticing. If it was the impending tests, his questioning of her would likely make it worse. If, however, she had not calmed considerably on the drive home, then he would need to get to the bottom of this strange mood of hers. Hopefully, she would be receptive to his concerns ... he felt uneasy if it should become a confrontation ... in her fragile state, he told himself, there must be no possibility his overtures would cause her undue stress.

Inside the doctor's cool office, Ann fidgeted with the pen she used to sign herself onto the day's patient roster. She could peruse the words in the novel she had brought to read while they waited but they did not hold her interest. Every time she looked up, she found Max gazing at her. She quickly smiled each time, forcing herself to refrain from flinging herself in his arms and admitting she was seeing a ghost.

The longer they sat together inside the calm office with its soft, soothing jazz music playing in the background, the more she felt enveloped in his calm strength. Her fingers touched his thigh. He caught her hand, his eyes on hers.

How could she be so silly over this, she suddenly thought. Max was right here with her ... how could she be afraid when he was around? She needed to be calm ... the baby seemed agitated ever since the day before. Suddenly she felt a jabbing and looked down to see her belly dance a bit. Max chuckled and ran his hand along where their child was kicking.

Anyone observing her reaction could tell she loved when he did that. Everything she was going through seemed to fascinate him ... and awe him. He enjoyed it all. He made her feel the need he had to be absorbed into the process. He had not had the opportunity with his first child's impending birth since he had been away during this stage. That they were sharing this time in the way they were was something she needed as well. As always, that total commitment was a security for her.

"So, Max, have you decided which you want? Boy or girl?" she asked him, the millionth time, always pretending she expected a choice from him.

"As long as the child has 12 toes and fingers, I shall be pleased with whatever your body presents me," he said this time, trying to find a moment of levity to offset whatever unease she might have been feeling.

"Twelve toes? And fingers? Max!" she laughed. "I should have known! The ordinary will never do for you. What am I going to do now?"

She watched the way his eyes twinkled in response. The ease of his lips. The set to his shoulders. Here was a man a woman could always believe in. A man who might be difficult but was worth every challenge. To her, he was the one man who made her believe that life held possibilities you dared not hope for ... if only you had a partner who came into your life just to be the reason you reached for things you never knew could happen to you. She believed in him, totally.

To him, she was the one woman who had convinced him that life still held for him the unlimited possibilities of family, love and immortality for which he had once given up all hope or thought. She had brought him from the darkness of loss and restored his sense of purpose as a man, husband and, now, father.

"Of course the ordinary will not do ... would I have loved you if the ordinary was good enough for me? And as for what you are to do now ... now you are to do nothing but relax and prepare for the child's arrival. I will do everything else."

"You make it all sound far too simple ... and I still want to know ... boy or girl? And if this test shows the sex, do you want to know?"

But she never got the answer ... one she'd asked before and gotten ambivalent answers in return. Just then, a nurse clad in a soft teal uniform called "Ann Cooper?" Max rose swiftly, a hand on her arm to guide her from her seat.

Less than a half hour later, Ann lay atop a softly cushioned table with goo on her belly, Max's hand in hers, the doctor and a technician watching a monitor as the technician ran a wand over the goo. On the monitor, forms and lines swooshed and moved ... neither Max nor Ann could make out much, even when the doctor would murmur, "Look ... do you see the baby? Here's the head and here are the legs and ..."

There was a pause and the doctor and the technician traded grins.

"Do you want to know the sex?" the doctor asked, looking from Ann to Max.

"No," Ann said.

"Yes," Max said.

They looked at each other.

"Okay, yes," Ann said. "I was so sure you didn't want to know!"

"No, perhaps not," Max said. "I thought you wished to know every detail."

The doctor shook her head. "Make up your minds. Yes or no?"

"Yes," Ann said, her eyes on Max.

He nodded. "Very well," his soft voice said. "We wish to know."

Driving home, Ann held one of the small pictures they'd been given as they left the doctor's office. Her fingernail kept tracing the outline of a tiny body that was even then floating inside her body.

She couldn't seem to take her eyes off of it the entire ride home. Even when Max parked before their house, she sat staring at the evidence of the life inside her.

"I can't believe it," she said. "Just what I really wanted."

"Thank you, cara," Max whispered to her, his index finger now joining hers in tracing over the picture.

She tore her eyes from the picture and looked at him as he leaned his forehead in to meet hers. Her fingers touched at his tears, light pearls of water that glistened along his lower lashes. He could be so unbelievably sentimental with her. She still could find these tender sensibilities inside him to be surprising ... they seemed to dwell in direct juxtaposition to the warrior that he let be his most prominent face to the outside world. It made moments like this, when he exposed his vulnerable side to her, all the more precious to her.

"This is a gift we gave each other, my love," she said softly. "Thank you for making this possible."

"I would wish more than anything that these remaining weeks are gentle for you, cara. What can I do to make that possible?" he asked her, now deciding to take a direct route, past any barriers she might have placed if he'd been more circumspect. "Tell me what troubles you these past days, Anna. Trust in me ..."

She blushed and closed her eyes. Then reached for him, seeking the comfort of his hold. "It's so silly. I am embarrassed to admit it to you, Maximus."

"Tell me anyway."

"I don't want to hurt you or anything."

"How could you possibly hurt me?"

"I am beginning to realize that I must still be bothered by what we had to do about William."

"William?"

"The man with Luke. The one we ... the one who ..."

"Ah. William. What bothers you?"

"I thought I was fine with it all, you know? Like, I hated that we had to ... but I took such strength from what you said, from your counsel ... there really was nothing else we could have done or we would have risked our lives ... risked this child."

"You have regrets now?"

"I didn't think so." She paused, leaned into him more. "But I must be having them ... because ... because ... Oh, Max, you're going to think I'm crazy ..."

"I will not, Anna. Tell me."

"I've seen his ghost."

"What?" Maximus was a man of his age ... and in his age, there was a strong belief in the supernatural. This talk of a ghost, a spirit ... it was one he would not dismiss. "Where have you seen it? When?"

That he did not chide her for this admission made her bolder. She cleared her throat. "Well, yesterday, I saw him in Covington. At the farmer's market and then later when I was walking to my car. And about a week ago, I thought I saw him outside the doctor's building ..."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"Because I still think I was seeing things ... but he seemed so real, so solid ... not perfectly like William ... so I figured I was just seeing someone who looked a bit like him and maybe a guilty conscience made me think it was William, you know? It's just ..."

"Just what?" Maximus asked her, edging her away from his body so he could see her eyes. "There is something else, is there not?"

"Probably not ... it's just that the first time I saw him, I don't know, it was just a glimpse. Maybe it made me start looking for him wherever I went ... like I was priming my imagination ... but this other time ... yesterday? Max, the first time, I was really startled and then he just seemed to disappear. But the second time, I could have almost sworn, he was waiting on me ... that he deliberately wanted me to see him ... and the way he smiled at me ... it was really frightening."

Max cupped her face in his hands. In her eyes, he read her fright. She might be a woman who had ways of thinking he often found so foreign he sometimes wondered if he would ever understand her ... but she was at her core a brave, strong woman. Whatever it was she'd seen, it had not been some product of her mind ... and it had been something evil enough to frighten her. This made him very uneasy. In light of all his efforts to cut every tie that could possibly exist between him and Luke Ferris, that a man who looked like Luke's dead cohort was now perhaps stalking his wife ... this could not have been a coincidence. The only alternative was that Anna was being haunted by a spirit.

Either way, he took it all very seriously. He would need to come up with a plan to assure that whether spirit or man, this would not be a continuing threat to his family.

"I can see that this frightened you, Anna," he said softly, slowly, intently. "I am glad you have shared this with me. Now, we can place this behind us ... for whatever it was, having it out in the open will mean that it can no longer lurk in your mind as a dream meant to scare you."

"Sure. Yeah. That's what I want to believe. You're right, Max," she said with a deep sigh. "I'm glad I told you even if you think I'm silly. Just saying it out loud makes me realize how insane that is. Seeing William? Of course not! It's probably just that I'm trying not to worry about something else ... or something like that."

"If it was his spirit, now you are armed with awareness. And if it happens again, you must simply tell it to leave ... but you must also tell me when it does, do you promise me this?"

"Yes ... you know, it's like when I saw the kayak a few weeks ago and thought someone was out there spying on me ... it's just so stupid to ..."

"A kayak? What?"

She told him then of the sighting of the kayak on the Little Tchefuncte and of her feeling of someone watching from the woods. Of the footprints. Of how she fled with Buck and how she felt embarrassed to have been so spooked by something so innocuous.

Though Max soothed her concerns, that night he rose from bed and watched her sleeping for long moments as he turned these sightings over in his mind.

Had someone been stalking her? Was someone watching the farm? Had they been traced, despite his best efforts?

It did not seem possible.

He spent long hours at his desk, pouring over the work file he'd begun on Luke and his men as well as on Mephisto Corporation. He could not see where there may have been an avenue for the company to have detected the link between himself and Luke. There were always wildcards ... of course there were in life. Luke could have left information behind that he had not found. There could be another player, someone he had not yet detected. But it was the company that was the concern. It was not all that it had initially seemed though it still did not appear to have known of Luke's activities where Maximus had been concerned. But the company Mephisto was the likeliest place that Luke might have left information, though Maximus knew directly from Lucius that he had carefully hidden his activities from the people at Mephisto. Lucius felt whatever he gained from Maximus, the key to return to his past, was his alone.

Still ... Max had been bothered by an aspect he could not fully investigate: what exactly had the company seen in Luke? How was it that Luke Ferris, a man from far out of this time, had come to work for a high tech company like Mephisto? The problem for Max was that to ask the question to anyone who might know the answer would have alerted the company to the person asking the question.

Theodore Dunnell scanned his email cache for those he must handle before his next meeting to which he would be summoned in five minutes. Thirteen from the Geeks, most of which he figured would be round robin copying. One from Levon, whom he knew was in Louisiana. Three from Rogers, whom he knew was in France.

The three from Rogers were first. He replied to the final one, coaching his immediate subordinate on the need to control the techies he was supposed to be watching over. There must still be no evidence of your work, he wrote him, and make sure you tie up those loose ends with the one known as Biebe now - don't leave it to anyone else, do this yourself.

Next, he opened the lone email from Levon. It was an update report; he got one like it every day about this time. Mundane information on what they were doing that day ... some polo match with only one highlight from Levon's point of view: Max Cooper bled red blood.

Theo closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He supposed this was Levon's brand of humor. On the other hand, he was tired of not telling Levon the truth ... that Cooper and his cohorts were not clones. And if they were not clones but real men, did the color of their blood matter? Perhaps not the color, but other qualities of their blood ... and perhaps their organs ... they might very well matter if they were indeed what the Geeks thought they were.

Soon, Theo told himself as he opened his eyes and typed a swift reply, soon he was going to tell Levon at least some of the truth about what these men were. He owed him at least some fraction of the truth.

Of course, the Geek Troika would forbid him ... if he asked. So Theo wouldn't ask them.

Which brought him to the Geek emails. Theo glanced at his watch; he'd be summoned in to the meeting soon. Best to at least glance at their emails first. He was through nine of them before his secretary buzzed to say that Warren was ready for him.

Theo grabbed his notepad, bound in its fiery bronze leather binder that reminded him of autumns back home in Connecticut. As he walked toward Warren Bush's office, Theo contemplated the latest batch of emails he'd just read over. The Geeks were becoming anxious and greedy. They wanted the business of Luke Ferris to be at an end and they knew that Max Cooper and the other men who looked like him signaled that the end was almost here ... if only their techies in France could break through at last.

He placed his hand on Warren's office door and took a brief moment to compose the set of his face. Meetings with any of the Geeks had become trying these last few months; they were getting worse. They were beginning to see themselves as some kind of evil emperors, with the fate of mankind in their hands.

In fact, it was Theo who called them the Geek Troika ... and he never verbalized that nickname for the founders of the Mephisto Corporation. They would not have been amused. He might scare them somewhat, with his bulkier build and his far more menacing professional background that included an abundant expertise in many manners of silencing enemies, but they were the power at this company. Dare he even admit they were the brains?

Warren Bush, Adam Link and Danny Caulfield were a study in nerds gone wild. They had gotten to know each other as they became the acknowledged lords of a particular role playing game world known as the Darkfield Chronicles. This was not that many years ago, as the Internet revved up to real force with those games that were the descendants of such tripe as Dungeons and Dragons.

Sure they could do better, they banded together. What began as some creative chatter on instant messages and different internet boards they created evolved into commercial reality. They operated the gaming environments under the name The Demon Three and incorporated their business as the Mephisto Corporation.

You can't ever keep nerdy geeks contained in a box though, Theo mused as he tapped twice at Warren's door. Somewhere along the line, the Demon Three began to take their alter identities a bit too seriously and the games were no longer enough as they began to try to maneuver reality.

But that's where he came in, Theodore Dunnell, chief of security for Mephisto Corporation. The Geek Troika had by then made him a wealthy man. He had made their plans reality, wiping out threats and enforcing order. He was the sinister tactician to their code-writing schemers.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Bush," he said briskly as he entered Warren's office. The light was low; Warren was pacing behind his desk. He waved a hand at Theo. "Are the others joining us via conference call?"

"They're in the lab. But I want a word with you first, Dunnell. Did you see the email from Adam? Why does he always have to oppose me on this? I want you to talk to him. Make him see this right."

"I am certain you will work it out, sir. You always do. I would not like to interfere."

Warren stopped his pacing and glared at Dunnell. "I'm not asking you to interfere. I'm asking you to fucking do what I pay you to do."

"You all pay me. Not just you ... sir."

"So that's how it is? You've thrown your allegiance to Adam?"

Theo sighed and sunk into the large leather chair before Warren's desk. He looked into Warren's eyes as he settled in. As ever, when Theo really fixed any of the Geeks with a concentrated look, they got nervous. He was a physically imposing man; they were anything but. It was more than that, though. They knew he was a man capable of things they wished they could be ... but they did not have the guts for physical confrontation.

"Mr. Bush ... Warren ... maybe you should sit down and relax before we join the others?" Theo said softly. As Warren did as he asked, Theo said evenly, "My allegiance is to all of you. I do not back one against the other, you know that. If asked, I will give my opinion and my counsel. But the decisions are made by the majority vote among the three of you."

"So you'll tell Adam ..."

"The same thing I tell you ... Whoever the guy is, he knows more than he should but the real question in this case is: does he know more than we do? The only way I see we can find out is to invite him in ... his last tip paid off, right? He must want in on the action with us or he'd have been taking this over himself."

"I don't trust him. He's too good to be true."

"I didn't say you had to trust him, sir. Just bring him in closer ... so we can control him."

Less than five minutes later, Theo was walking off an elevator, following Warren down the darkened hallway that led to the lab where they would meet the other two Geeks. Theatrical lighting, Theo grumbled to himself, wishing to hell they'd just turn up the wattage in the hallway.

On their way back to the house, the silence was heavy in the little car. Clarity couldn't get over the new assault of fear that had caught her irrepressibly when she had seen that face, and heard these simple words.  It was just like in her nightmares. When she had insisted that they leave immediately, John hadn't said anything, noticing that she was as white as a ghost. But she was sure he was mad at her.

"John, listen... I'm sorry..."

He didn't answer, watching the road with total attention. 

"He... he looked so much... so much like... him."

He still didn't answer. 

"Him... you know? The bad man who was in my... nightmare... you know?" she tried to explain tentatively with a little voice.

At last, he spoke: "Yes, Loriebat. But it's not him, is it? He is just the manager of the hotel, Clarity. He is just that, and he is very real. He told me that they wanted to buy the house next to the hotel so..."

"WHAT? You said what...?"

"That they wanted to...."

"NO! Before that...! About Loriebat. How do you know his name? I never told you before!"

"Because he was in my dream, too."

"Your... dream?"

This was the moment when John told her that he had had a nightmare too during their honeymoon in the hotel, but didn't tell her before because he had not wanted to upset her more than she already was. It was just a dream, nothing else, he said firmly.

She asked him if he didn't find weird the similarities in each of their nightmares? He just shrugged, then looked at her with one of those sweet smiles she could never resist.

"That just shows how close we are."

For once, she didn't melt at his sweet smile and comment. She was past that. The fear had gotten the best of her. "That's it. I'm going to call Uma. This is too weird. It cannot be a coincidence. I must ask her if this has already happened to someone else before. She might know more."

John didn't say anything. 

"John? Did you hear me? I said I was going to call Uma..." She was expecting him to protest, to tell her she was crazy to be afraid of simple coincidences.

"I heard you," was his only answer. His voice was calm, his face expressionless. 

"What do think if I call her?"

"Nothing."

"And what do you think if I don't call her?"

"Nothing."

"John! That doesn't help me! Say something! Please! I need your help."

"What do you want to do? What do you really want to do? What will make you feel more at ease about this?"

"I want to call her."

"Then give her a big kiss for me."

"Heather? That you?" Uma had sneaked out of bed in the middle of the night to make the call to New York to catch Heather at a reasonable hour. She did not imagine her friend would take too kindly being woken up from sleep - that was the baby's job.

"Uma? What's up?"

"Well..." It wasn't easy to begin this particular conversation mostly because she wasn't sure exactly what to say. Heather had enough on her plate at the moment without being loaded down with her neurotic ramblings.

"...Have you been getting a feeling that something's not quite right?" Heather asked out of the blue, so in tune with how she was feeling that Uma almost dropped the phone.

"You too? I thought I was going nuts. Heather...what are we going to do? Andy isn't interested. He just dismisses everything I say. But you and I...there's something about us, isn't there? It wasn't just coincidence, was it, or our incredible animal attraction to alpha males that got this thing staring, was it...?"

"Well, you can't totally discount that factor, Uma. We are pretty hot, you know? Heather joked.

"Were, darling, were. I doubt either of us is quite the force for sexual attraction we once were. Do you know how long it is since I've had my hair restyled?"

"Girl, I can't even remember the last time I brushed mine, so you should talk...! But seriously...Walking away from it all was our choice. You can say we did it for love or whatever - but...something is pulling us back. I just know it. I've been fighting this feeling for days now. It's like something has started and is beginning to exert an internal pressure...oh, that sounds so lame...!"

"...I know but it's exactly how I feel. I've been looking at recent developments and I think they're somehow linked but I can't for the life of me see how. Jeff and Paul. That's something to do with it, I'm sure. But I also keep getting this niggly feeling about Maximus. Like he's in danger or something. He's been on my mind a lot these days..."

"He was the first. Stands to reason he has some extra pull going on there. And let's face it, Uma. You and he were a very big deal back then even if you both do your best to try and deny it now. Some of that must still linger. I think you both care more about each other than you're ever prepared to admit..."

"...Why are you always such a know all? Just don't let Andy ever hear that one..."

She chuckled. "You keep your secrets and I'll keep mine...by the way, I haven't said anything to Dino yet. Not sure how he'll respond..."

"...Hold fire on that and I'll make a few calls, see whether I can pick anything concrete up...then when we have more justification, he might be more inclined to take this seriously...how is old Red, anyway?"

Heather sighed. "Worried. He thinks Terry's in over his head. He warned him about taking on a personal case. Especially now with Gaia having given him the kiss off..."

"What happened there? And what personal case?" Uma asked, confused.

"Don't know why she kicked him out. Dino says he's bleeding all over the place and just as bewildered as everyone else. I'm not supposed to say anything about where he is but...don't tell anyone...he's taken a team in to get Gaia's son out...did you know she had a little boy and his father wouldn't allow her access? Seems things have gone wrong during the extraction but I don't know the details..."

"Bloody hell, a child? Gaia had a kid? No, Terry never said. He doesn't tell me anything these days, contrary to popular opinion. I never even get an email from him but Andy still can't even hear his name without going into a tailspin..."

"Calm down, take a breath...Andy's a man, what do you expect? And don't pretend you don't carry at least a candle for Terry any day of the week, even if you've set the Olympic-sized torch down these days..."

"...Are you going to start lecturing me again? I am so well behaved these days, lovey, I'm in danger of turning into Pollyanna..."

"I doubt it. Look, the baby's crying. I have to go. Dino's not here...I'll call back in a day or two. Let's just stay vigilant until we know more. And give that gorgeous man of yours a kiss for me...I almost remember what sex was like before the invader arrived...Dino says he should change his nic to 'Blue'..."

For the third time, John was trying to explain to Clarity that he absolutely had to climb on their roof to try and fix these tiles before the next storm. Their floor and the few pieces of wooden furniture they had wouldn't survive another shower like this one.

"Listen, John, I am not deaf, nor stupid. I have perfectly heard and understood you from the very first time. I just do not want you to do it." 

"Yeah? And would you just tell me why? I have already done more dangerous things in my life, and you know it."

"Because."

"Don't tell me that... it's because of the... now you listen to me. We are not going to let a dream impose a life of fear on us. I refuse to live like that. And I hate to see you in that state. Clarry, this is not real! It can't be. Don't let this upset you. Don't let it spoil our vacation. I had been so looking forward to this. Let's go on our happy life, like before, huh?"

How could she resist the worried look and sad smile he gave her? Not sure she would succeed, but she was willing to try. For him. She couldn't forget her anguish, but she was going to try and make it less obvious to him. That's all she could do for now.

So she looked up at him and nodded slowly... but couldn't help adding, "But I'm staying with you"... uh-oh, wrong start, girl!

He rolled his eyes. "No, you don't. There is nothing you can do there. You'd better go and start cleaning inside." He realized that it was not the best suggestion he could have made to distract her from her dark thoughts. He found a better idea

"Why don't you call Uma? You were in such a hurry to call her a while ago... have you forgotten already?"

It worked. 

"Uma? Oh, yes, Uma! Yes, yes, I must call her. Now. Uma will know. She must know."

Clarity pressed the speed-dialing key of her cell phone, but had the bad surprise to see that it couldn't catch any line. She walked around until she got one, without noticing that she was moving away farther and farther from the house... and from John.

It rang, rang and rang... Zut, she had forgotten to check the time! Too late, a familiar voice finally answered.

"Uma! Oh Uma! Am I glad to hear you!" She tried to calm down and not to forget her good manners. "How are you? How is Andy? What about Jeff?" But she didn't even wait for an answer. "Uma, I need to know something and I think, I hope you can help me. I've had that dream... it was awful... and then I've seen him...twice... and John, too. And I don't know anymore... did it ever happen before? Please tell me, I need to know!"

Unable to make real sense of Clarity's rush of words, Uma stopped her and asked her to tell her more, in details. Clarity explained about the dreams in general terms, from the beginning, and then as she progressed, giving more details as she became concerned over Uma's relative silence. Perhaps she did not believe her?

"It started during our honeymoon. There have been Cesar... the skating rink... Gendarme Cruchot and Commissaire Lagrange... and then John joined me in jail... and after, he translated the Russian notice for Don Camillo's bells... and we ended up at Tom Walker's property, well his real name was Mullen but... anyway... there... there was the pool... those people... that blond girl... and the hockey game and... it happened. It was horrible! You can't know how much! I woke up and I thought... but no, it was not... well, I thought it was ... until I saw him. He was there, real. Can't forget it.

John convinced me... but now we are again there and we've just seen him again... and John did, too! And you know what's worse? I asked the employees, we couldn't have seen him before, he was not even in France!" She stopped, breathless. "Isn't that terrible? So, what do you think?"

"Well...I'm not sure I really got all that, Clarity. But I really do want you to tell me what's wrong. So, start at the beginning and don't leave anything out, sweetie..."

Clarity stopped, took a deep breath and then went back over the story from the very beginning until the events leading up to where they now were. Uma listened, interrupting with just the occasional question.

"And you're in Provence now?"

Clarity said they were.

"John admits to having had an identical dream? And he doesn't even seem to think that's odd in anyway?" Uma asked in surprise.

It was a relief to Clarity that someone else seemed to think the sharing of the dreams was odd. Perhaps she hadn't been so paranoid after all.

"No. He doesn't think it odd at all. He thinks it was just something caused by our closeness. Uma, that's impossible, isn't it? What do you know? There must be something you know about our strange little world...is there anything bad out there waiting for us? Could there be forces that mean us harm? How do they cross? Please, I know it's probably a secret and I shouldn't be told but...is there anything you can say to explain this...?" She was becoming desperate now. Uma seemed to be her last resort.

There was a pause that went on so long that Clarity began to wonder had they been cut off.

"You still there...?

"...Yes...yes...I was just trying to compute it all...Clarity, I honestly can't help you on this. Heather and I still have no idea why we were the ones that brought the men over. If we ever did...I mean, the first ones came to me and her but, after the pub was set up then they just found their way there. They still do, long after Heather and I have vacated the premises...I would tell you if I knew anything that might be of help to you, I swear I would. But...I can tell you this for definite. Something is wrong. I know that much although I have only some sixth sense telling me so. I have felt uneasy for weeks and so has Heather. Your call just confirms what we already feel..."

"What do you mean, 'wrong'?" Clarity gasped.

"I don't know. Just a strong feeling as if there was a force pushing on a door trying to force open it...There's just one other thing that worries me that you might look into, as well. It's just past Halloween. SID seems to see that as his special time of year. He's been quiet of late, but I never trust him, most of all when he's quiet. And Myra's always encouraging him these days. She doesn't like that they're always kept on the fringes of pub life...Clarity, SID likes you. He listens to you...why not see if this is something he's caused? He might be willing to confide or more like boast about it to you. He hates my guts. He'd never tell me anything. On the other hand, he might be innocent but I'll bet if something is up, he'll know something about it. If anyone can pick something up, it's gotta be SID..."

They spoke on for a short while, discussing that and other options until Uma excused herself, saying she had to go back to work. "...But, Clarity, I agree with you about France...Get out of there if you can for now. Go home. Stay close to the others...there has to be safety in numbers...!"

"What about you and Andy? Jeff? If something or someone is after us...aren't you the most exposed...?"

Another silence greeted her comment. "I don't know, Clarity. I just don't know. It may all depend on what these unknown persons want from us....please, don't take any chances...and keep me posted...?"