TREMORS: BAYOU RHYTHMS

"erm, Doctor...I..I think it's making my back hurt..."

"So?"

"Well, I've got this problem..."

"If you don't shut up and go to sleep, you'll have an even bigger one in a minute!"

"It..it... could, well, make my back seize up. I.. I used to get this..."

"Well sleep on the bloody chair then!"

"er, if I, like do that, er... well, my neck will go stiff and seize up instead..."

"If you don't stop prattling on, Graham, your neck will be broken is what it'll be!"

"Okay, Sir... I'll try to sleep... and... and I promise to try not to be too stiff in the morning. I, like, know how important it is to you tomorrow that I'm fit and there to do my job, well, stealing all that research... and, well, I just, sort of, hope I won't be so bad I can't sort of move at all --" There was another small pause, "-- I used to kind of lose all feeling and couldn't move for days, b.. but, i..it may be better than it used to be, and, well, maybe I'll kind of have some mobility...I'll do my best for you, Sir. I'll...I'll try not to let you down..."

"Graham! I know exactly what you're trying to do, and it isn't going to work! I will not be manipulated by my bloody assistant! Now go. To. Sleep! !"

"No, really, Sir. I..I..I'm not joking. I've got this back problem, see... I really do..." He stopped when he heard a sigh from Arcane that sounded more like a growl.

"Graham, now it's true that I encourage initiative from my employees, and I have to admit that as excuses go, it's one you're not leaving me much choice with; so I'm going to say this once and only once. You'd best stay well away from me and stick to *your* side of the bed!"

It was fortunate that Arcane couldn't see the sly grin crossing Graham's face in the darkness of the room. "Er, thank you, Doctor..." Pursing his lips in frustration, Arcane heard the sounds of Graham struggling to his feet, with a little groaning laid on for added effect.

"I haven't finished yet! As I was saying, I encourage initiative, and if you were to openly admit to this deceit in order to achieve your ends and return to that floor, you have my word that there won't be any further mention of this, or repercussions of any sort..." Graham could swear he heard the merest hint of desperation to Arcane's voice; "... probably even commend you for trying, eh?.. providing you come clean about this --"

And spend another minute on that floor... you've got to be kidding!

"-- Because if you *do* get into this bed, and if I *ever* find out you've been lying to me, Graham, there won't be enough of you left to mutate! !" He barely had time to finish the sentence before Graham hobbled over to the bed and sidled in beside Arcane, who instinctively moved a little further away from him.

Don 't worry, Doctor, you'll *never* find out if I've been lying or not! "I.. I'm not l..lying, I swear, Sir... er, thank you..."

"Don't bother thanking me, Graham... I'm only doing this because I need you mobile tomorrow!" Yeah, I know! Graham gave another unnoticed devilish grin. "And just make damned sure you keep well over to your side. Have I made myself clear!?"

"Oh yes, Doctor... real clear, Sir." Graham happily settled himself into his nice, new, soft and comfortable position for the night. Yeah, *much* better!

It was several minutes later when the pair of them eventually settled enough to drift off into that beautiful altered awareness limbo between sleep and waking, the day's and evening's events just long forgotten memories... peace and stillness encroaching to ease any remaining troubles away. Even the whirring of the air conditioner was becoming distant.

Peace and stillness that shattered in violent disruption as the harsh glare of a set of headlights on full came streaming though the curtains; and the booming base of at least 200 Watts of rap music from a stereo system assailed their fragile senses.

"WHAT THE!?.." Arcane sat bolt upright in shock, shielding his eyes from the light. "Graham, what the hell is going on!?!?"

"I..I'll go see, Sir," the assistant got out of bed, remembering to add the occasional moan and slight stiffness to his gait.

"Well!?!?" Arcane snapped impatiently.

He's not gonna like it. "er, I think it's the people upstairs who've just arrived, Doctor. They, er, they're just unpacking the car now."

"Bloody Hell!! Well, at least they'll be quiet soon!... Who are they?"

Graham squinted out of the window to get a better look; "er, there's two adults... I.. I think they're the parents..."

"Parents! "

"erm, yeah, Sir. Looks like there's about six kids..."

"SIX! !"

"ah... wait... no, eight. I, er, I didn't see the twin babies."

"Oh my god!! For God's sake, let's hope they don't cry a lot!"

"er, I think they are, Sir... we just can't hear them over the music..."

Arcane put his head in his hands.

"Well go out there and tell them to keep the bloody noise down!"

"B.. but, Doctor, the father's kind of like seven feet tall... and he's not looking too happy, and the woman's kinda like one of those Sumo wrestlers... kids don't look much different too, Sir."

"Well ask them politely then! !" Arcane wasn't about to take no for an answer. Graham opened the window slightly and poked his head out.

"Er, excuse me... but, well, my boss and I are trying to sleep, and, er, well, would you please try to keep the noise, well, down a little?.. sorry to bother you..." He called out, as politely as possible.

"FUCK YOU, YOU LITTLE BALDING SHIT!! YOU DON'T FUCKING LIKE IT, MEBBE YOU 'N YOUR FUCKING BOSS 'LL WANT ME TO COME IN THERE AND REARRANGE THE FUCKING TV IN YOUR FUCKING ASSHOLES!! !" A voice called out, clearly audible even over the music. Arcane gave an involuntary shudder and inched his way nearer to the wall for safety. Graham shut the window hurriedly and stepped away from it.

"I, er, I don't think they kind of liked that suggestion, Sir. erm, maybe they'll listen to you? You're more persuasive than I am."

"Oh, I don't think that'll be necessary, Graham. I'm sure the noise will subside once they get settled in. Charming bunch of Neanderthals, aren't they, Graham?"

"I could, like, call reception and complain, Sir?"

"I think they might suspect who complained."

"Good point, Sir."

It was fifteen minutes later, but it could hardly be said that the noise had subsided. True, the car stereo and lights were no longer on, but another stereo, albeit slightly quieter than the first, was still well audible from above. Then there was the constant crying of the babies, the shouting of the older children, the angry retaliations from the parents, the constant trooping back and forth of 8 pseudo-elephants across a room directly above Arcane and Graham. "What are they doing up there!? Re-enacting the bloody battle of Waterloo!?!?" Arcane muttered.

"They've got to quieten down sometime, Sir... haven't they?"

It was two hours later, and Arcane was starting to go spare. At least the stereo had stopped, and there only appeared to be half of the family from Hell up and about now, but it was still more than enough to jangle Arcane's raw and delicate nerves.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, GRAHAM, COMPLAIN, WILL YOU!!" He finally snapped.

"It's been a while, Sir. They might not realise it's us... er, Doctor, I'll lock the door. Did you, er, did you bring your gun with you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Graham. It was enough trying to get the worms through airport security. You think I'm going to bring a bloody gun as well!?!?!"

"Just a thought, Sir..." Graham reached for the phone. "Reception?.. er, yes... Yeah, I'd like to make a complaint about the people above us.... yeah, yeah I'm Mr. Graham, in room 150... Yeah, it is kind of serious.... yeah, they are making a real lot of noise.... you will?... yeah, thanks, bye," He turned to Arcane. "They said they'll see to it."

"Thank God!" Arcane settled back into the pillows.

It was nearly 2 am when the sounds of somebody arriving and raised voices could be heard from above, followed by the sounds of furniture smashing. Arcane just stayed quiet, praying it would all be over soon. Graham was already asleep, apparently not as affected by the noise as Arcane. Fifteen minutes later, the wailing sounds of police sirens and paramedics were heard entering the forecourt, followed by more scuffling, a proliferation of profanities, more furniture being smashed. Whymewhymewhymel?!... Arcane's mind sobbed to itself as he pulled the blankets over his head.

Half an hour later, blessed silence remained, as the last of the police and their charges left.

Thank you God. Thankyouthankyouthankyou!! With a peaceful sigh, Arcane settled back for what remained of the night. It briefly occurred to him that there was another room spare now, not that it mattered anymore. Ah, blissful peace...

Just then, from the room directly behind him, Arcane was jolted by the sounds of groaning.... The hell !?...

"Oh... oooh...Yes, YES!!! *YESS*!!!! OOH... OOOHH OOOOH!!! *YESSSS*!!!!!" Two voices, one male, one female, called out in unison, as the sound of bedsprings creaking reached an orgasmic crescendo, bumping against the wall at Arcane's head, before dying down again... only to start up again a minute later... NOOOOOO!!!!!! Arcane desperately buried his head under the pillow and sobbed for sleep to come to him.

He didn't know how long he'd suffered and listened to it all... didn't know how long he'd been awake. Each and every pained memory of the night blended into one another, until all was a fatigue induced blur to him. But it passed, and eventually silence remained. Sweet, welcome silence. And he drifted off, finally achieving that so badly needed sleep.

The phone rang, and with a choked sob, he reached over the still slumbering Graham and picked it up. "Good morning, Mr. Arcane. This is your early morning wake up call..."

It was 9.15 am when the taxi pulled up outside the Las Vegas Hilton. The driver and Graham both got out, and began retrieving the luggage. Arcane took a few moments to collect himself, then staggered out as well. He looked at Graham with venom, his face contorted with jealousy that the man could look so refreshed and active. How come *he * gets to sleep and I don't!?

"Come along, Graham... we don't have all day!" he snapped impatiently. Graham looked up warily, and as he did so, the driver noticed his face clearly for the first time.

"Say, that's a nasty bruise... you want to get something cold on that. What happened? You pick a fight with Tyson or somethin'?"

"Or something..." Fingering the bruise, Graham cast another wary glance at Arcane, who was tapping his fingers on his arm as he waited for them to catch up, before heading brusquely to the reception desk.

Once the luggage was deposited, the driver left them, and Arcane and Graham took their place in the queue. As they waited their turn, neither seemed in any particular hurry to talk to the other, both retaining a slight distance and a silence filled with tension. It was Graham that eventually broke this silence.

"Y.. you didn't have to hit me, Sir..." he sulked.

"I hit you? Oh dear, how awful of me. Must have lashed out in my sleep. Funny how these things happen, isn't it, Graham?"

"I, er, I thought you said you didn't get to sleep, Sir."

"Didn't I? Well, perhaps my memory's playing tricks on me. Does that every now and again..."

"You didn't have to hit me... It wasn't my fault, Doctor," he murmured.

"Any more than it was mine, I would imagine," Arcane replied with a total lack of remorse, and perhaps a slight relish.

"I.. I told you. I was asleep. I was having this dream. I..I.. I didn't know what I was doing."

"I'm beginning to think that it takes you all your time to know what you're doing when you're awake, Graham!"

"Look. I..I.. I dreamt that I was back in Cleveland... with my brothers, and we, er, well, we were out fishing like we used to --"

Oh my God; spare me his bloody family history!

"--and we were out in this boat, see, and I'd just caught this eel and I was getting it off the hook, and well, I..."

"... Graham! I don't want to hear any more about your bloody family, and especially your recreational habits with them. And as for your dreams... Well, suffice to say that despite being a scientist, there *are* some things in this world that I could happily go the rest of my life without knowing about... the workings of your subconscious beta brain wave activity being top of that list!"

"I..I didn't do it on purpose, Sir... I guess, I just kind of move a lot in my sleep, and..."

"As do I, Graham --" Arcane retorted, massaging his fist demonstratively; "-- now let's just put this behind us and concentrate on the day!" Graham nodded, still with a slight sulk though; "Oh, and Graham? One last caution before this business is finally laid to rest. I'm only going to warn you once, but that threat I made last night about that other incident... remember? Well, let's just say that it's equally applicable if I ever, *ever* again find you putting your hands on my--

-- *Oh*, *Good morning! *, Anton Arcane. I believe you have some rooms for myself and my assistant," Suddenly distracted by noticing he'd just become first in the queue, Arcane turned to the receptionist and smiled warmly.

"Let me just check, Sir. Won't take long," she keyed his details into a computer and waited until the information came up on the monitor. "Ah yes, Dr. Arcane. I believe there were a few special arrangements made for you," she smiled at him; "Let me see, your room was expected to be ready for 10 am..."

"There's a problem isn't there?" Arcane uttered in a weary, resigned voice, closing his eyes; "Just... just tell me how long it'll be."

"Oh no, nothing like that, Doctor. I'm pleased to tell you that the room's ready early. You can move in immediately if you want. I'll have a porter transport your hand luggage and the cases you left last night, Sir."

"W..what??" Arcane uttered in a little voice, barely believing what he was hearing. "You mean there isn't a problem?"

"Of course not, Sir. Why do you think there would be?"

"Oh, no reason, " Arcane said casually, his face brightening up considerably.

"Now if you'd just care to fill in this booking form, I'll get you the key. Will you require a second key for your companion?"

"Second key??.. Ah!... Can I take it that we *don't* have separate rooms?"

"I just have a booking here for one room, Doctor. I believe that's all that was possible under the circumstances." Arcane turned to glare at Graham, who looked downwards, not meeting his gaze.

"Fine. Wonderful. Why am I not surprised by any of this?" he turned back to the receptionist, still too tired to be capable of anything remotely resembling full blown anger. "Can I also take it we have the one single bed?" he asked, there merest hint of resigned cynicism to his voice.

"No, Sir. This is The Hilton. There's two Queen sized beds. Of course--" she glanced at Graham beside him, "-- you're more than welcome to only use one if that' s what you'd prefer."

What I'd prefer is to hang the little toad out of the window at night is what I'd prefer! "erm, I rather think not, thank you. Two beds is more what we had in mind... isn't it *Graham*?"

"Yes, Doctor," Graham sulked, nodding his head a little.

"That's a nasty bruise!" the receptionist commented, noticing Graham; "would you like me to see if there's anything we can put on it?"

"Very kind of you, but we've got medication for it," Arcane interjected before Graham could say anything, "He had a fishing accident you see. Well, best get to the room pronto then," he finished filling in the form as the receptionist handed him two cards. "Oh look, Graham... keycards! Isn't technology wonderful? So much lighter to carry. Won't they make everything so much easier for us?" he beamed. Graham nodded unenthusiastically. Just then, a porter arrived with a trolley containing their cases. Arcane thanked the receptionist and bade her goodbye, as the porter began loading the hand luggage. "No!" Arcane said concernedly as the man began to pick one particular bag up. "No, er. I think I'll take that one separately, thank you." The porter just nodded and set off. "Well!?" Arcane turned to Graham; "Get the bag and come along!" he turned and began following the porter. Glaring at him, Graham hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and shambled off too, dragging his feet miserably.

"Well, I must say, this is certainly an improvement on last night!" Arcane said pleasantly as he and Graham, having tipped the porter, surveyed their home for the weekend. "Not exactly the suite I wanted, but quite frankly, after last night, anything resembling civilisation' s welcome, eh, Graham?" Graham mumbled an affirmation and Arcane turned to him.

"Graham! Just how long do you intend bloody sulking! We've got work to do and this isn't helping one little bit. We do need to communicate you know!"

"Yes, Sir," Graham replied, with very little emotion to his voice. Arcane suppressed his mounting ire. "Well, tea making facilities at last. Splendid!" Rubbing his hands together in glee, he went over to the kettle, checked that there was water in it, then switched it on, before turning back to Graham; "Can I take it, Graham, that you'd like a coffee?"

"Uh huh, Sir," Graham mumbled again.

"Well, why don't I make us both a drink then, old chap?" Arcane attempted a cheerful approach, trying very hard to hide his contempt at being reduced to having to make the coffee to coax his assistant back to some semblance of normality.

"Uh huh."

"Er, there's some ice in the fridge... That should help the bruising go down, Graham," he suggested helpfully. "Uh huh," Graham replied stonily, dragging his feet over to the fridge to get some. Unseen by him, Arcane clenched and unclenched his fists in pent up frustration.

"Damn it, Graham! I'll ask you again... How long are you going to stay sulking like that!?"

"I'm not sulking, Sir," Graham sulked. Arcane closed his eyes, took a deep breath and mentally counted to ten.

Only two choices, really. I'm going to have to either apologise to him, or strangle him,. and since I need him alive for the weekend..

"All right, Graham. I'm sorry I hit you. It wasn't your fault and I acted thoughtlessly. Satisfied?"

Graham looked up in shock. "Y.. you're.. apologising.. to me??"

"Why yes, Graham. That's exactly what I'm doing--" with no small degree of reluctance! "-- Graham... yesterday was a very stressful day for both of us. Lots of problems and all that. I was tired... irritable--" not least because of you, you moron! "-- I reacted without considering the full ramifications. Graham --" he tried the trademark smile, I can't believe I'm doing this! "-- my loyal and trusted assistant, --" He put his arm round the man, "-- Why don't we just put all this behind us and start afresh? Let's go get 'em, eh... just the two of us?" He gave Graham's shoulder a little comradely squeeze. God, I wish it was his neck I was constricting!

"You're, like, making me coffee... and.. and apologising, and..."

"Well of course I am, Graham. You're irreplaceable to me. You do know that." Only for this weekend. After that, I might as well swap you for a trained gerbil!

Graham beamed. "Th.. thank you, Doctor Arcane."

Easier to please than a gerbil though! "Think nothing of it, Graham... my friend!"

"Friend!" Graham grinned proudly, "erm, why don't I make the drinks, Doctor. You, er, you should take it easy and get ready."

"No, Graham, I insist," Arcane said pleasantly, reaching for the sachet of coffee and the kettle, which had just boiled. If you made 'em, they'd probably end up being spilled all over me!

"I'll, er, I'll start unpacking then, Doctor," Graham grinned, his previous mood a long forgotten and distant memory.

"Splendid, Graham. That would be incredibly useful," Arcane forced one more word of praise. That's it. That's the last bloody one, I swear! "Well, there you go," Having made the drinks Arcane offered Graham a cup, which the assistant took gratefully. He then went and sat down on one of the beds, putting his own cup on the table beside it, and reaching for a piece of hand luggage, which he opened and began rummaging around inside. A moment later, he retrieved a small metal device, some eight inches long and resembling a flashlight, only the bulbous end was flat and square, with a slot in it.

"Now, Graham, this is the device you'll be using," Graham turned and regarded it as he continued the work; "To scan the lock, run the infrared beam into the slot for the original card –" Arcane indicated an IR scanner on the front of the device; "-- after that, run your own card through the slot for it situated on the device. That'll key in the new information to your card, and change it to fit the new lock. After that, just use your card as though it's the one meant for the door. There's no limit to how many times you can alter the information on a single card. Well, that should be simple enough, eh?"

"Sure, Doctor. er, what if someone comes along while I'm doing the scanning?" Arcane managed to avoid rolling his eyes in exasperation. Instead, he just smiled benignly.

"Well, Graham, I was rather hoping you'd attempt to avoid that situation... perhaps take the liberty of ensuring that the corridor is empty when you try, hmmm? The actual scanning process'll take literally seconds. After that, anyone that comes along isn't likely to know that it isn't your room. I suppose if our cleaning staff really are that vigilant and suspect something, you're going to have to do a variant on plan C... You do remember plan C, don't you?" Graham just nodded. "Fine. Don't worry, I'll give you enough money to cover any problems you could possibly encounter."

"Got it, Sir. I won't let you down."

"Good man. Well, I suppose I ought to get changed and go and get ready to mingle and distract our guests; not to mention getting the information you'll require. Pity... Could have done with a few hours in bed after last night, but we hardly have time for that, do we... do *I*" he quickly amended his words.

"What suit do you want getting out, Sir... the tuxedo?"

"No, Graham. Something formal, but a little more casual. The grey Versace with the black shirt'll be fine."

"Sure, Doctor," Graham opened a garment bag and carefully searched through it until he found what he was looking for -- a double breasted fine wool suit and black silk shirt -- before retrieving them and laying them carefully on the bed, along with an accompanying platinum brooch and black Gucci shoes.

"Well... just time for a quick phone call to Stella before changing, and we'll be ready for business.

"Yeah," Graham grinned maliciously. We'll see who's *really* Dr. Arcane's friend and assistant after today... yeah! He heard some numbers being keyed into the phone.

"Operator.... Yes, this is Anton Arcane in room --" he glanced at the keycard, "-- 719. I'd like an outside line please.... yes.... That's Houma, Louisiana.... area code 504, the number is 354 6450.... yes, charge it to my room.... thank you;" there was a pause of about twenty seconds; "Ah, at last! Arcane here. Get me the laboratory.... Laboratory? This is Arcane. I want to speak to Stella immediately.... Well, where the hell is she? oh, I see.... no, this is bloody important.... Yes, I can wait! ....Well, get Mercer to deal with Sunderland instead... oh, and I suspect he'll be dealing with taking care of the complex until I get back as well... I have a strong suspicion Stella won't be dealing with *anything* very shortly. Well what are you waiting for, man!?!? Get her!" As Arcane waited patiently, Graham continued to get Arcane's clothing ready, smiling to himself in satisfaction. Teach her to try and take *my* place by the Doctor's side!!

"Your stuff's ready, Doctor," Graham whispered to him, and Arcane acknowledged with a hand gesture, before picking the phone up and moving over to the bed, where he sat down as he waited for Stella to be fetched.

"You know, Graham, all this is a damned good idea," Arcane said to him suddenly, since there didn't appear to be any sign of Stella coming to the phone in the very near future.

"er what is Sir"

"This, Graham!--" he gestured around him, "-- The whole idea of a conference with rare and interesting data ripe for the plunder. I really must do this again you know... Oh, not here, and not like this, I mean. Not after the fiascos we've had. No. I had something more along the lines of hosting my own conference. In Houma... on my own terms, my own territory, with my own staff--" he gave a little chuckle, "-- it'll be perfect, Graham. I'll be in control of it every step of the way; Lure just the ones I choose; Give 'em a bit of incentive eh... some sort of prize... which of course I'll make sure I win! Yes... mustn't waste good ideas."

"That's brilliant, Sir," Graham echoed the enthusiasm. "Well of course it is, Grah.... Ah! Stella! Just the person I wanted to speak to.... Yes, thank you Stella, I'm settled in now!... Just!!.... No, I can't honestly say I'm having a good time, or that it's been easy.... Don't you even want to know why?..... Well frankly, Stella, I'm a little surprised by how easygoing your attitude seems to be, all things considered..... What the hell do you mean, 'what do *I* mean?'?..... Well frankly, I'd have thought that was bloody obvious!...... No, damn it! I'll use whatever language I bloody well like!..... Well don't you have anything to say for yourself!? It isn't as though I'm not giving you every chance to explain!..... Ah, at last!....... Yes, I think it safe to say I *am* talking about the accommodations for the Friday night and the rest of the weekend....... Well why should I have known about it all? You didn't exactly see fit to tell me now, did you!?..... Oh...... Ah!..... Hmrnm, I see...... I do have to admit, that does tend to put a rather different slant on things...... Yes..... Yes..... Well, I suppose I really ought to commend you on being diligent and tenacious enough to secure the accommodations you did ...... Yes, Stella, I think it safe to say that any blame for this occurrence will be directed to where it should be going...... Well, I can't really guarantee that, but I will take it under advisement...... yes...... yes..... Well, hadn't you better get back to General Sunderland then? Keep up the good work, Stella. Yes...... yes, thank you....... Yes, I will have a good weekend... especially after I've dealt with the little matter you've brought to my attention....... No, I told you, the way I'm feeling now, I can't guarantee that....... Very well, yes, and I apologise for any unfortunate misunderstandings. Have a nice and profitable weekend, Stella," he put the phone down, and immediately turned towards Graham, a sudden glint of purest evil in his eye, overwhelming whatever dullness the lack of sleep had induced. He moved forward with the slow, inexorable pace of a tiger circling its prey.

"Ah, Graham!" he said with a smile that would put a great white to shame, and in such an overtly pleasant way as to make Graham cringe in terror. He put his arm round the man, but for some reason, this did nothing to instil comfort and safety in the assistant. "I've just had a rather interesting talk with Stella you know. Want to know what she said?" the voice was still impeccably polite. No trace of anger, frustration... but Graham knew that look!

What's wrong now? I've done nothing? Why isn't he trying to kill Stella anymore?... and why's he looking at me like that!?!?

"erm, I, er, I take it you've forgiven her for the booking problems, Doctor?"

"No, Graham. I think it's still accurate to say that whoever's responsible for that gross incompetence is *very* likely to get exactly what's coming to him," the shark's smile grew that little bit toothier; the eyes a modicum wider, and the hug just that little bit firmer. Graham gulped and tensed.

"I,er... I t.take it that Stella's, kind of, er, not to blame??"

"Yes, Graham... old friend!--" the saccharine way Arcane said that word, Graham would rather the man had hurled some vitriolic insult at him instead. "--Stella really had nothing to do with it at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. Want to know what she did say?"

No. Not really "er, yes, Sir."

"Well, Graham --" Arcane released his grip on Graham's shoulder and paced over to the bed, savouring his words; "-- it seems The Hilton got in touch with Stella about the cancellation and the final arrangements on the Thursday afternoon..."

"But wasn't Stella, kind of, away from the complex on Thursday?" Graham said in a puzzled voice, secretly hoping that somebody previously unmentioned was to blame, and not him at all. When all was said and done, he *knew* nobody had told him anything. He'd have been sure to tell Doctor Arcane if they had. He really shouldn't have had anything to worry about.

"That's right, Graham, she was in New Orleans all day taking care of business before the weekend, and wouldn't be getting back until first thing Friday," Arcane agreed, as he unbuttoned his shirt and began changing into the fresh one.

"But... but if.."

"They called her on her mobile, and faxed the details through to her laptop. Hardly a phenomenal achievement of technology and brainpower, Graham!" Arcane interjected sharply, fastening the shirt buttons.

"Th..then why didn't she get in touch with you about it, Sir. I.. I know she was away and all, b..but she could have called you."

"Graham. You know as well as I that where the mundane details were concerned, you and Stella were dealing with things. I had more important matters to attend to... getting my lecture prepared... tending Vermimorphus, yes?"

"Yes, Doctor... but she could have called me. i..it still sounds like she forgot to..."

"Well now, Graham, it really is interesting that you brought that up. It would have been the obvious thing to do now, wouldn't it?"

"I..I didn't get any call from her, Sir..." Graham said in a mild, but defensive voice.

"No, well you wouldn't have. A phone call to you would have been pointless since you needed a hard copy of all the details, wouldn't you say?" Graham remained silent; "and so Stella, in her infinite wisdom, chose to fax the details through to somebody's office... can you guess who's??"

Graham hung his head; "mine, Sir?" he asked in a little voice.

"Ten out of ten, Graham. Yes... yours! Now don't you find it odd that when a fax that important is sent to your office, you don't see fit to tell me about it?" Graham was desperately wracking his brains for anything to cling onto that could save him. Arcane was beginning to develop 'The Look' again.

Wait a minute! Yes! "Sir, I remember being in my office. There weren't any faxes that day, I swear, Doctor... it never arrived."

"No faxes, eh? I wonder why, considering Stella had a confirmation that it had been received at your end, Graham? Now let me see. Can you think why?" Graham shook his head, at a complete loss. "I don't imagine it would have anything to do with the fact that you failed to change the fax roll in the machine, would it, Graham? Stella informed me she found it empty. "

Graham hung his head again, sighing. "I.. I guess I forgot to, Sir. I was, er, v..very busy getting everything ready, and... and..."

"Of course you were, Graham," Arcane didn't seem particularly appeased, despite what the words implied. A sudden insight of salvation hit Graham.

"But, Sir, Stella couldn't have known about that. She was taking a chance it'd get through. She... she should have checked a..and made sure... maybe tried some other way to get the details through as well..."

"That would have made sense. I agree that it is pretty haphazard to trust the information to just one mode of transit. And apparently, so did Stella. It would appear that just to make absolutely certain, she also emailed the details to you... to be on the safe side, as you so rightly observed. Good old meticulous Stella. But it's funny, you know. I still don't remember you telling me about it, do I, Graham?" the voice was that little bit harsher now.

With a resigned and weary sigh, Graham screwed his eyes shut, finally remembering. By reflex, he started wringing his hands again; "I... I was so busy... I, well, I sort of, er... and I..."

"... and you failed to check the emails for the day, didn't you, Graham?" Graham just nodded, swallowing nervously. Eventually, he forced himself to look up at Arcane, pitifully gazing into very unforgiving eyes. "So, Graham, aside from this not inconsiderable matter, how many other vital pieces of information that I needed to know about immediately are waiting for me next week?.."

"I, er, I don't know what to say, Doctor... I'm.. I'm sorry..."

The faux pleasantries were dropped like a stone;

"No you're not, Graham. You don't know the meaning of the word sorry, but you will...trust me." The voice was calm and even, filled with latent menace, and Graham shrank back from it. Gone was the choreographed bravado, along with the sardonic humour or the irate ranting. In its place was that soft, even, deadly seriousness that Graham thought he'd escaped from the previous night. He was treading on *very* thin ice again. "

"I ...I ..er..."

"Graham. Quite frankly, I'm not interested in any of your excuses. I'm getting sick of playing these games with you, so to expedite matters, I'll tell you exactly where you stand... and it's *not* open to negotiation. So far, this entire weekend has been nothing but a disaster. I've been hurt, inconvenienced, insulted, mentally tortured and humiliated; with very little to show for it, and all because of*you*. Now if I actually wanted that kind of treatment, all I'd need to do is go for a stroll in the swamp. I didn't choose to travel 1500 miles at the busiest time of year, on what could be one of my most vital projects to date, to have it happen. Now I don't need any more stresses or problems this weekend, so I'm going to put this aside for now so we can get on with our normal business as per usual. Oh, and believe me when I say that 'for now' means exactly what it sounds like. I can tell you in all sincerity that the only reason you're standing here now, still alive at all, is because alive is how I need you for this weekend. Make no mistake about that. What happens afterwards is rather up to you," he paused for a brief moment to take a sip of tea, "As it stands at the moment -- and it's not a threat, merely a statement of fact – I'm going to kill you, Graham. No torture, no mutation; I'm simply going to kill you. After all, over a year of loyal, if somewhat uninspiring service, has to count for something. On the other hand, if you should make up for what's happened and redeem yourself by being especially successful; and if everything else goes right instead of wrong, there's always a chance I may change my mind about that. So! That's the situation in a nutshell, Graham? Any questions?" he asked casually, as he finished the cup of tea.

"a.. are you serious, Doctor?"

"About what? About being tired of it all? About not wanting any more stress... about killing you?" Graham's eyes widened at the mention of that.

"Yes, Sir," he whispered nervously.

"Yes, Graham. Perfectly serious. I thought I'd made that clear. However, I'm certainly not going to ruin my weekend further and distract myself by remaining in a bad mood with you. As far as the weekend's concerned, I'm in a good mood again now. But yes, I am going to kill you... unless, of course, your future actions give me sufficient incentive not to," Graham looked horrified. "Oh, and Graham..." the voice was completely natural and pleasant again; "Don't even think of leaving me in the lurch and running. If you do... I'll find you. That's a promise. And if that happens, every single cell in your body, and every neuron in that brain of yours will wish I had killed you."

"I.. I wasn't going to... I wouldn't do that... l..leave you, Sir..." Graham said in a subdued voice.

"There you go, old chap. That's got yourself off to a good start already," he gave Graham a comradely pat on the back; "Now let's go and make a big success of this weekend and then you can forget about this unfortunate little event, yes?"

He wouldn't? He couldn't? Surely he's joking... doing it as some sort of mental revenge? Somehow, Graham didn't think that was the case this time.

"Now, have you got everything? Digital camera? Celphone? Disks? Keycard and scanner?" Arcane checked, as he changed into the rest of his apparel and retrieved his research notes and containment chamber, which he stuffed into a small briefcase.

For Chrissakes! He's just acting like nothing's happened!! "Yes, Sir," Well, what would you prefer? Him ranting on at you, or sullen, on top of all this? Come on, Graham. Calm down! Think rationally. You've got an entire weekend to redeem yourself; and he's got an entire weekend to change that mind of his. That's hardly some unusual event, is it? He wouldn't really kill me... not *me*... not after a weekend to calm down!... Surely!? Oh god! Now all I've got to do is hope that nothing else at all goes wrong!!!...

Oh, why me? Why couldn't he have brought Stella??

"er, what are we waiting for, Sir?" Graham asked meekly as he and Arcane sat themselves down in the lounge near reception and just waited, calmly. He instantly regretted asking, dreading saying anything at all to Arcane that could possibly show a lack of initiative on his part, under the circumstances.

"We're waiting for reception to get a little quieter, Graham, but not so quiet we may be bothered," Arcane didn't seem irritated by the question, "Now if I can just wait until one of the reception staff, female preferably, is without a queue, and the others are busy. Catch 'em on their own. That'll be perfect. Just got to hope it doesn't take long. I've lectures to attend... and you've got work to do!" he glanced at his watch, his face tensing a little.

You and me both. I need you delayed and pissed like I need a hole in the head.. which is exactly what I'll get if you are! "Shouldn't be, well, too long, Sir," he offered, reassuringly.

"We're also making damned sure that bloody woman isn't around! Oh, and speaking of whom, Graham, when I get chance, I'm going to get myself into her good books, with a view to luring her to Houma. And that's where the fun'll begin," A wicked twinkle shone in his eyes, "Haven't forgotten about dealing with her, Graham!?"

Yeah, remember her with pleasure, Doctor... Just forget about *me*! "Right, Sir... you'll teach her, Doctor!"

"Practising the toadying, Graham? Hoping it'll make me forget *you*, eh? Well done... most commendable," Arcane flashed him a sly smile, "but don't you worry, Graham. I have the brain of a genius--" he pointed to his head for emphasis; "--and this brain is capable of -- remembering lots of tiresome little details, is it not?"

Graham nodded miserably. Suddenly, looking past Arcane's shoulder, something caught his eye. "Sir? There's a lady behind the desk there. She just came out of that back room and isn't dealing with any of the queues. She, er, she doesn't look like management... maybe?.."

"Well spotted, Graham! Good man. Now wait here like a good chap while the master goes to work, eh?" with an anticipatory smile, Arcane got himself to his feet, adjusted his jacket, and sauntered casually over to a small, short-haired brunette behind the desk. When he was gone, Graham breathed a little sigh of relief. So far, so good... I think... maybe!?

"Oh, good morning," Arcane put on his most charming, polite, but not too saccharine sweet voice, "I wonder if you could possibly help me with a little matter?"

"Of course, Sir. What can I do for you?" she replied pleasantly.

"Well, I'm seeking some information on some of the other guests at the hotel. Nothing major... just some room numbers, you know?"

"I... I'm terribly sorry, Sir, but I'm not allowed to divulge that information. Perhaps you could contact the guests themselves and ask them?"

Arcane didn't seem too put off by this reply; almost as though this was expected. He just continued to smile warmly, but this time allowed the merest hint of discomfort to be seen in that smile.

"Well, I wasn't going to mention why. Really rather embarrassing and a little childish, but... oh why not!? I'm here as part of the Science conference, and, well --" he feigned an embarrassed pause; "-- you know, I realise this is all going to sound terribly unorthodox, but I have a group of good friends here at the conference... other scientists, like myself; and we've got this sort of, tradition, where we do our best to play practical jokes on one another whenever we attend these types of get togethers," he gave a cheerful little laugh; "rather silly, I know, but that's scientists for you! But anyway, I had this wonderful joke I planned to play on them... oh, nothing unpleasant, I can assure you, or anything that could possibly reflect badly on the hotel, but I was rather planning to have some little surprises delivered to their rooms. Trouble is, I don't actually know which rooms they're staying in. I.. I wonder if you could possibly help me out here--" his voice became soft, slowing down noticeably in its delivery... friendly, inviting... a voice you could trust with your life; "--I mean, when all's said and done, I'm sure they've got something lined up to do to me, and I'd simply hate to be outdone and not return the compliment," he leaned closer, the eyes just that little bit more mournful and pleading, holding her own gaze with them; "By the way, has anyone ever told you, you have the most beautiful... beautiful eyes..." his voice was little more than a whisper now, sibilant and hypnotic, as he drew her in with the sound of it. The words were there, but seemed to grow distant, more ethereal, as she moved closer to him, as though basking in golden sunlight and falling so very, very deep...

... before suddenly giving a little shudder and breaking herself out of her trance. She put a hand to the top of her chest in a gesture of disorientation and surprise, and steadied herself. If there was any frustration that she'd not gone under, Arcane wasn't showing it, merely continuing to smile and gaze at her.

"I'm really sorry, Sir. I.. I don't know what came over me. I suddenly felt quite faint. I'm sorry, but what were you saying?"

"Perhaps they've got you working too hard, my dear?" he said comfortingly; "We were just discussing your being generous and allowing me to have the details of some room numbers, weren't we?"

"Of course, yes. I'm really not allowed to do this you know, Sir..."

He took her hand gently, "I understand completely, Rochelle --" he glanced quickly at her name badge; "-- Rochelle... what an exquisite name... But Rochelle, I give you my word of honour, as a gentleman, that I'd do *nothing* to cause any problems for you or the hotel. You won't hear a single thing about this again. Please believe me when I say that my friends really won't be expecting me to do simply nothing to them. You'd be helping all of us, really you would," his eyes pleaded with her.

"I know, Sir, and I do trust you that it's all very harmless... but I could get into a lot of trouble over this if anybody found out..."

"Rochelle. Who'd find out? You wouldn't tell. I wouldn't tell, and my friends certainly wouldn't. Where's the harm, eh?"

"I.. I could be seen..."

"Nobody's looking," he said mischievously, glancing around to see all the other staff fully occupied, and no prowling management in sight.

"Well..."

Arcane reached into his wallet and proffered a hundred dollar bill to her; "Rochelle... please don't take this the wrong way. I only want to give this to you to show you my appreciation merely for contemplating doing something so utterly selfless to help another human being," he handed her the bill, which she looked at, her emotions torn, not entirely able to take it.

"I.. I could lose my job?.." "My dear Rochelle. I won't allow that to happen, not that anyone will ever know--" the voice became soft again, building trust; "but should anything ever happen like that, I promise you that it won't be a problem. I can guarantee that you'd never have to work again for life if it came to that..."

"You would? You'd do that for me?"

"Rochelle. I'm a very rich man... and I don't mean to sound base when I say that... and I have a lot of useful contacts. I always remember when someone has done me a kindness. If anything awful were to ever happen because that someone had made one tiny, unfortunate little mistake in bestowing that kindness, I'd make certain that they didn't have to worry about the consequences of it again... ever. Trust me." He put the bill into her hand, closing it gently for her. "That's yours, Rochelle... for not dismissing my innocent request out of hand and just for listening... whether or not you choose to help me," he gazed into her eyes again, long and hard.

It only took her a second to consider, accept the bill, and glance round hurriedly just to make sure there really wasn't anybody watching them.

"Which guests were you looking for?" she said quickly.

Trying hard to conceal a very broad and triumphant grin, Arcane reached into his inside jacket pocket and retrieved a notelet, which he handed to Rochelle. She glanced at it, and began keying some details into her computer console. As the information came up on screen, she began jotting room numbers by the various names on the lists, continually looking round her, but not in such an obvious way as to appear too suspicious.

A few minutes was all it took, and it was a very smug Arcane that sauntered away from the desk and headed back to Graham.

"You got it, Sir?" Graham looked hopefully at him.

"Well of course, Graham. Was it ever really in any doubt? The old Arcane magic worked like a charm! I'm a happy man, Graham!" he grinned, patting his assistant's cheeks. Graham reciprocated with a comforted smile of his own.

Yeah, you stay happy, Doctor... *real* happy!

"Of course, Graham... happiness, while extremely invigorating, has never proven to be an opiate on the old memory, eh?" Arcane grinned wickedly and gave Graham another pat on the face before sitting down again. The assistant's face dropped noticeably.

Once seated, Arcane handed the notelet to Graham; "Right! To business! Now this is the list you'll be working to. I've put them in order of priority. The first eight -- the names underlined -- they're the absolutely essential ones to deal with. If they have their research here with them -- which they almost certainly will have -- I simply *must* have it. Consider the others as just added bonuses who mayor may not have anything worth looking at. Curiosity value, if you like."

"Don't you want a copy of the room numbers, Doctor?" Graham asked.

"Now why on earth would I want those? If anything should happen, I certainly don't want incriminating evidence found on my person. Besides, I can remember the details. Oh, and speaking of incriminating evidence, Graham; if you should be discovered and can't get yourself out of it... none of this is connected with me in any way... Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Graham replied.

"Good! Well, best get to work then. Take this --" he reached into his wallet and pulled out a I wad of notes; "-- in case you happen upon any unfortunate misunderstandings, and to cover any expenses you may run into. Of course, I'm counting it, Graham, and I will note just, how much gets used. I'll get over to the conference hall now and call you when I know who’s there, and you can get straight to work. In the meantime, book a table for us for eight o'clock at Bistro LeMontrachet. Don't bother about lunch. I'll deal with that if and when I get time.

"Right away, Doctor," Graham put on his best efficiency voice, stifling the stammer that was usually so prevalent when he was around his employer. Picking up his briefcase, Arcane rose to his feet and set off in the direction of the conference hall. Graham watched him go, refusing to even contemplate any sort of ease of tension until the Doctor was well out of sight.

Right. Go book dinner. Go make him happy. Go save my life. Guess that's my day cut out for me!

The lectures themselves weren't due to start for another hour or so, but the conference rooms were already bustling with activity. A few people had filed into the lecture hall and were saving their seats, but the majority of the attendees were simply mingling, helping themselves to the buffet and drinks laid on. Walking past the table, Arcane rested his case with the notes and worm chamber on the floor beside him, and helped himself to a glass of Perrier. What he'd wanted was a nice Chardonnay, but had decided well in advance that he couldn't afford to have any alcohol remotely impair his judgement. Let the other simpletons do that!

He looked around, trying to spot familiar faces; or at least the ones he was actively seeking to locate. Ah, there! Looking around surreptitiously, he removed the celphone, dialling a few numbers. It took a few moments of waiting before he got a reply.

"Graham--" he whispered, trying for all the world to look like he was having a jolly, casual conversation with whoever was on the other end; "-- I've spotted both Rudyard and Laurent, and neither appears to be going anywhere in the near future. They're fifth and sixth on the list, so get them done now. No sign of the others yet, but there's plenty time. According to the timetable, neither's due to speak until much later, so you're in with a good chance..... Good man.... ah, no table at LeMontrachet?.....bloody marvellous!.... Yes.... Yes, The Steakhouse'll do fine then..... but no table at eight!..... I see.... Well, in that case tell them to hold the seven thirty rather than the later one..... no, I'm not *that* desolated, Graham! Half an hour shouldn't make too great a difference..... Fine.... yes... Now get going. Arcane out."

"Problems, Anton?" A voice behind him, oozing with smarminess, nearly made him jump out of his skin. He spun round to see a tall, skinny looking man with wild, dark brown hair that seemed to possess a sentience all its own, and also notable by the two huge white streaks in it, far in excess of the small, barely noticeable one in Arcane's own. The man made Anton Arcane's tonsorial notoriety seem positively sedate by comparison. Between the rather stubbly beard that bordered on simply not having shaved in several days, the cheap suit that seemed a size too large, and the manic stare in the man's eyes, his entire presence seemed a bizarre statement. Rough wasn't the word, but even had this man been wearing the most expensive of raiment, and hired the best image makers, one got the impression that unkempt would still win through, somehow.

Upon seeing him, Arcane immediately forced himself to regain his composure, a wry, bitter smile touching his lips; "Not until a few seconds ago, Jason. Yourself?"

"Who knows? Possibly? Maybe quite the opposite..." he said cryptically, "I must say, Arcane, it's been quite a few years since anybody's seen you here at this illustrious event. Lonely for our company are we?"

"One could say the same for you, Jason."

"You weren't on the registration list last time I looked. Some sudden insight made you come then?"

"Maybe I just wanted a change of scenery. Houma' s always so tedious this time of year, don't you think?"

"Not now that you're here, I suspect. They'll be dancing in the streets."

"Well done, Jason. Another couple of years practice and you might even gain a passable sense of humour. The world cringes in fear for the day you and Alec Holland set up a stand-up comedy double act together!"

"Quite the comedian yourself, Anton."

"Not much choice being in your company, Jason."

"And speaking of Holland... still getting a bit swamped by your little problems with him?" Arcane tried not to show his tension at the remark;

"Two jokes in three sentences... has to be a record. Oh, and in answer to your question, no, not more than usual... but then you already knew the answer to that one before you asked, didn't you?"

The other man just shrugged casually; "So, why *are* you here?"

"To meet old friends... oh, and you; To enjoy an event I've missed for far too long; To participate and indulge in friendly competition; to catch up on things; To enjoy the festive season in a place of civilisation... the list goes on,"

"Not unlike the sound of your voice, Anton. Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Might as well, Jason. It's the only answer you're going to get. So, in the interests of fair play, why are *you* here?"

"I think it's pretty safe to say my motives for being here are as stimulating, pleasure seeking and innocent as your own, Arcane."

"Touche. So, what are you doing these days? Still busy on those test tube babies of yours?" "Amongst other things..."

"... Other things, Jason? Does the General know?"

The man just continued to smile coldly, ignoring the question; "And you? Still getting killed by your own creations, Anton?"

"I wondered how long it'd take you to find out about that little affair."

"Well, news travels fast, Anton... especially when it's good."

"Not that good, Jason. As you can see, I got better."

"Well, better luck next time then. Even you are bound to get it right eventually. If you need any help..."

"Looking on the bright side, if I did, I wouldn't have to endure your less than sparkling wit and repartee anymore." If the other man felt any irritation, it didn't show one iota. He just continued to stare Arcane straight in the eyes, flashing a smile that oozed insincerity, danger, and more than a hint of madness. The world contained very few people that could out-smile and unnerve Anton Arcane... Jason Woodrue was one of them.

"How's the old lady, Anton?" Woodrue grinned maliciously. Arcane tensed, but kept his cool. "Still got those distant, icy problems to your relationship... Life still gone from the old wedded bliss?" Woodrue goaded further. Arcane remained smiling, but behind his back, his fist was clenching and unclenching itself, and his cheek had developed the tiniest twitch.

"How thoughtful of you to ask, Jason. Tatania and I do have certain problems coming between us, I'll admit,--" Only two cubic metres of Cryonic acid, half an inch of Plexiglas, and a lack of any discernible pulse! "-- but nothing I can't sort out soon enough,"

"I wouldn't make any bets on that if I were you, Anton," Woodrue gave a mischievous smile, his eyes flashing with a sudden intensity.

"Well, Jason. I'm not you... thank the gods."

"You know, Anton, I've always wondered about you keeping her like that--"

Keep this line of talk up for any longer, Woodrue, and you'll be taking a swan dive out of the nearest window!

"-- Don't you ever get that urge to... well, thaw her out... you know... for special occasions?--" he winked suggestively.

He's trying to get a reaction. Don't rise to it, Anton!

"-- No headaches, Arcane... no backchat... Perfect wife, if you ask me--"

Keep calm. Count to ten. Ignore it, "Actually, Jason, I *don't* remember asking you."

"I'm surprised at you, Anton. You must have thought of it... knowing you --"

I'm saying nothing...

"-- and speaking of which, did I ever tell you about that time when Tatania and I first met, back at Sunderland's birthday party eleven years ago?.. No?.. Now I wonder why she didn't mention that to you?--"

Don't rise to it, Anton. You're better than this imbecile!

"-- I won't go into any details out of respect for the sort-of-dead, but quite frankly, Anton, you may as well thaw her out on those occasions. You wouldn't even notice the difference. Just between you and me, the bitch was as frigid as they come..."

With a snarl of rage, Arcane dropped his glass of Perrier to the floor, where it shattered, and grabbed Woodrue by the lapels with both hands, forcing him up off his feet and backwards into the buffet table. Several people nearby turned to stare in shock. He was about to scream some outburst of his fury and hit Woodrue when he noticed the gloating look of sheer triumph in the man's eyes as they gleamed down at him.

"Ooh, that's quite a temper you've got there, Anton! Any further and you'd have impaled me on the vol au vents!"

Stupid, Anton! Stupid! You've just given him exactly what he wanted. With a look of disgust, he just released Woodrue, who calmly rearranged his clothing back into some semblance of neatness again, grinning victoriously.

"A word to the wise, Jason," Arcane regained a calm composure, matching Woodrue's; "Don't *ever* mention my wife again. You really wouldn't like the consequences."

"I'll take it under advisement," he replied dismissively; "Well, Anton, it's suddenly occurred to me that I've been standing here talking to you for over five minutes now... quite a record for us, don't you think? Especially considering both of us find it about as enjoyable as root canal work! However, that's five minutes out of my life wasted... so "

"Oh believe me, Jason, I'd happily waste a lot more of it than that, given half the chance."

The man smiled another cryptic smile; "A mutual feeling, Anton... a mutual feeling... Enjoy the rest of the conference, Arcane... sleep well tonight..." With a little grin, the man walked away, with a strange, undulating gait that made Arcane instantly think of a snake. He gave a grimace of distaste, and when certain he wasn't being watched, immediately got the celphone out.

"Graham! I doubt you've reached either of their rooms yet, but in case you have, unless you've found something *very* important, forget Rudyard and Laurent for the time being. Number three on the list has just made himself known to me. He's not carrying anything with him, so whatever he's got'll be there. I want that insufferable little twerp's research decimating, Graham... you hear me... *decimating* !?--" he became aware that his voice was beginning to raise itself slightly in anger, and he suddenly stopped himself, getting his emotions in check again before continuing; "--Oh, and Graham. Forget what I said about keeping the fossils in the room. Go back for them first and keep 'em with you at all times. At all times, Graham. I think the stakes just got a lot higher! Arcane out."

Arcane was having mixed feelings. He'd expected the confrontation at some point over the weekend, and it hadn't gone entirely unlike anything he might have expected, but something was bothering him, and not just the obvious goading and outburst. He had the distinct feeling something else was lurking in the back of his mind. On the other hand, Jason Woodrue's presence always had that effect on him. The man's a hack and a fraud It's obscene Sunderland gives him more free reign than me! His bloody protege indeed!

"Are you all right, Anton?" a voice to his right broke his train of thought; "Didn't hear what he said, but I couldn't help noticing Woodrue being his usual charming self. It is Anton Arcane, isn't it?"

Arcane turned to see balding, stockily built man about his own age, wearing a tuxedo and some heavy, dark rimmed glasses. He looked puzzled, trying to figure out just who was talking to him, but he nodded in affirmation. "You probably don't recognise me. I've changed a bit since we last saw each other... and it has been rather a long time." Arcane noticed that the voice was clearly British, but with a strong hint of American overlaying it; "Gained rather a few pounds--" the man patted his own stomach, "-- and the eyesight's seen better days." He had a friendly smile. Arcane could have sworn it was genuine, and not trying to conceal some darker motive. No... not here... surely? He was still perplexed, although on a second look, there was something familiar about the man. "Geoffrey Carter... We were at University together... remember?"

"My God... Geoffrey!?" Arcane gasped, finally remembering; "It must be nearly twenty years!"

"Only nineteen, but hey! What's a year to old friends!?"

"Well, this is rather a surprise, I must say?" They shook hands warmly.

"I started attending about seven years ago, but that was after you stopped going. Well, I'm certainly glad you've decided to give us all another chance, eh? It's not been the same without your valuable contributions to the world of science."

"Really?" Arcane was already beginning to forget the bitter aftertaste of the confrontation with Jason Woodrue.

" Absolutely, Anton. You know, I have to admit this, now. I know it seems a bit childish -- although you are THE pre-eminent scientist in the field of genetics -- but you were always my role model as well. I know we lost touch, but I followed your career and tried to keep up to date."

"I don't know what to say, Geoffrey," Arcane beamed, his ego being soothed back to its normal resting state; "I am rather honoured to hear you say that."

The man shrugged. "How do you do it, Anton?" he said with a friendly sigh.

"How do I do what?"

"Look at us. We're the same age... both 36. You'd never tell, would you?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Geoffrey."

"Forty pounds heavier, and failing eyesight... and hair that wanted to throw itself off my head to its death ten years ago... How did you manage to grow more, Anton?"

Hmmm, perhaps I should patent the formula? "It's a knack, Geoffrey, what can I say?" he smiled.

"Well, all I can say is that you must manage to lead a very stress free life, Anton."

If only! "Can't complain too much, I suppose. Couldn't help noticing the accent. Can I take it that you're also working here in the States now?"

"Certainly am. Back east, over at the Miskatonic University in Arkham."

"Fascinating. I've had dealings with them on occasions." "Well, if you're ever in the area, you're welcome to visit. You can come and stay... meet the wife and kids. Say, did you ever marry? I heard you were heavily involved with a woman... now what was her name?.."

Oh bloody hell! Here we go again! "... Tatania," he replied softly.

"Of course, yes. Rumour said you got married, but then nothing got mentioned for a while afterwards... and I couldn't help noticing that nobody seems to be with you at the moment."

Story of my bloody life! "Yes, Tatania and I were married, Geoffrey, but it... it didn't exactly work out too well,"

"I'm sorry to hear that, Anton. From what I've heard, she was a very nice lady."

"Yes... she *was*..."

It took a moment for Carter to recognise the look in Arcane's eyes, and the meaning behind the words. When he did, he screwed his eyes shut in embarrassment and remorse.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Anton. I had no idea. I should never have brought it up. I'm so, so sorry...

"Not your fault," Arcane sighed, "It was ten years ago. Best talk about more pleasant subjects, eh?" he forced a semblance of cheerfulness into his tone. Carter nodded quickly.

Get some information out of him while he's here! "Geoffrey, I can't help noticing that Oliver Duncan doesn't seem to be here yet. You do know Duncan, don't you? Well, I used to work with him a few years ago."

"Yes, I gathered that... brilliant man!"

"He certainly was."

"I could be wrong, but I heard he used to be working on some alternative research to Cold Fusion. Hmmm, wonder if he ever found anything?"

"Well, I have to admit, Geoffrey, I was wondering the exact same thing myself. You know, I couldn't help taking a special interest when I saw that he was on the guest list, and hoped he'd recovered from his old problems. I can't tell you how jolly interesting it would be to talk to him again after all these years."

"It would indeed... but no. From what I gather, his 'old problems' are just as bad, if not worse. I don't know why... or more to the point, how he decided to come... or who even brought him -- you know, this year's conference certainly seems to have set the record for rare and unusual appearances-- but he was here briefly last night... before they had to take him away again."

"Take him away?"

"It was all really rather unpleasant. He seemed to be having a good time one minute... if still in that little world of his own... then suddenly started ranting on about the spawn of Satan coming to get him. It wasn't pleasant, Anton, I can tell you. He seemed convinced the hotel was full of devils and murderers! I think it was his step daughter that came to fetch him home again."

Bugger!! Scrap number two on the list! "Oh dear. That is a terrible shame. Poor old Oliver er, what about Mirador?"

"Carl Mirador? Of course, Carl was your mentor for a while, wasn't he?"

"That's right. Haven't seen him in years either, and he was due to arrive as well, I believe."

"It's not looking likely now. He was planning to be here up until three days ago, apparently, but had a change of heart and cancelled. Still, knowing Mirador it's always possible he could turn up after all. You know Carl... always having second thoughts and being in two minds about things!"

No! Tell me this isn't happening!! Not number one as well!?!? "Oh well... let's just hope he does, eh?"

"Yes indeed. Anton, I..." he paused as the sound of a celphone broke their conversation. Instinctively, both he and Arcane reached for their respective phones. It only took a moment to determine that it was Carter's, and not Arcane's. After a few moments, Carter put it down and turned back to Arcane. "Look, I'm terribly sorry to be rude and cut this short, Anton, but I've got a fax coming through for me from the University. Got to go. Still, I'll be around for the weekend and I'd love to reminisce more on old times. Perhaps we can go for some lunch, or dinner together?"

"Absolutely, Geoffrey. I'll look forward to it," Arcane replied as Carter turned and left the hall. Arcane watched him go with a bemused look on his face. My god.. I actually still have a friend!

He sidled his way over to the entrance to the hall, and found himself a quiet comer just outside, where he took out the celphone.

"Graham..... bad news..... No, not you, you idiot! Scrap number two on the list entirely. He's a no-show; and number one isn't here yet... and probably won't be coming at all! That's right, Graham, I think it's safe to say I'm *not* very happy about it..... Well just get on with dealing with Woodrue, Rudyard and Laurent. I'll call you with any further details. Arcane out."

Graham closed his eyes in despair upon receiving the call. That sort of news was hardly going to put Arcane in a forgiving mood. What was even worse was that he'd begun searching Woodrue's room, and there didn't appear to be anything usable at all. Not so much as a notepad and pencil or floppy disk, let alone a laptop! Still, early days yet. He carefully opened each drawer, one by one, rifling through the contents and being careful not to disturb anything or make it appear different to how he found it. Nothing. He checked the backs of the drawers, in case of secret compartments... inside the clothing itself... Nothing. Next he searched the wardrobes, then the bed... inside it, under it, around it... Nothing! For desperate measures he even checked the potted plants... the bathroom, right down to seeing if individual tiles were loose. Still nothing. Half an hour later, he'd searched every inch of that room, and there was absolutely, positively nothing! An idea struck him. Picking up the phone, he called reception, and began practising a voice... any voice... that sounded nothing like his own.

"Reception? This is Dr. Woodrue in room 549. I just wanted to check the security arrangements on the items I left with you Yes, I'll hold on." It was a longshot, but it was one way of checking if Woodrue had left them down there. "I see Oh, well it was probably an oversight on my part. I must have intended leaving them with you and forgot. I can be a bit forgetful at times. I'll just have a check to make sure I've got them. Sorry to bother you." Damn! If Woodrue's research wasn't on him, wasn't in his room, and wasn't with security... where the hell was it!? Why would he come without anything!? He looked around the room again, contemplating what he could possibly have missed. He'd checked to make sure it wasn't taped to the underside of anything possible. He'd looked outside on the balcony. Damn it! He'd even checked in the cistern and the fridge! There really wasn't anything here at all, but that wouldn't make any difference to Dr. Arcane. He'd be livid, even if he believed him... which he wouldn't. Arcane was bound to think he'd not been diligent enough, or had failed with some obvious oversight. But he hadn't! He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. Just then a thought struck him. What if Wood rue had booked into a second room, under an assumed name for security purposes, and was using that to store his data in? Ifhe had, it made sense that he'd make sure it was close by. Getting up from the bed and making sure he left no imprints on it, he quickly exited the room. Immediately, he chose one to the left, looking round to make sure nobody was around.

Wasting no time, he scanned the lock, before knocking on the door to see if anybody was in, since Arcane hadn't accounted for this. If anyone did answer, he'd just have to make up some excuse as to why he was here. Try being a drunk thinking it's your room... yeah!

When he got no reply, he tried again. Once certain nobody was home, he slid the key into the lock, letting himself in. Be quick about this! Dr. Arcane's not exactly able to warn you if these occupants are going to be on their way back!

He began looking around.

Down in the conference hall, Arcane was still spying out the territory. Nobody else on his primary list had shown up yet, although a couple from the secondary were milling around. However, he knew Graham would still be busy with the more important trio since he hadn't called back to give a status report, and he'd decided against disturbing him until the man was ready to move on to research new. Arcane was getting mildly concerned as to why Graham hadn't called in with his whereabouts. It had been nearly an hour. He should have done at least two of the rooms. Arcane eased his tension by imagining that Graham had found a lot in there to copy, and that was what was taking him so long. That not only sounded plausible... it also sounded rather promising!

He glanced at his watch again. Soon time for the lectures to begin. He was debating whether to go into the hall yet. The first two speakers were of no significance to him, and the rest of his main list hadn't arrived yet; and he wanted to be in a position where he could keep both an eye on the ones that were here, and spot any who arrived; which, of course, meant staying out here. Woodrue and Laurent had gone into the lecture hall, so they weren't a problem... Well, not in that respect anyway! He's see them if they decided to leave. Rudyard, on the other hand, was still in the lounge area, by the table, and without knowing where bloody Graham was, he needed to keep an eye on the man.

He was jolted a little by the sudden ringing of his celphone. Ah! At last! "Graham, where the hell have you been!?" he enquired, turning a little away from Rudyard and feigning a casual attitude again; "No, Graham, that was just a statement of my feelings. I don't need a lengthy explanation right now!....... No, tell me the details later. Just get on with the job for now. All I want to know is where you are at this present moment in time...... I see.... No. Leave Laurent till afterwards. He's probably going to be here a while. Deal with number five for now, and call me the second you leave his room. Arcane out!"

It occurred to Arcane, that probably the best way to ensure Rudyard's continuing presence there would be to initiate a conversation with the man. He had to admit though, that he wasn't looking forward to it only marginally less than with Woodrue. It wouldn't be anything distasteful along the lines of that intense verbal sparring, but Rudyard was a cold fish, with about as much of a sense of humour as... well... Graham; and insufferably pompous... not to mention boring. Five minutes of conversation with the man had been known to age people by years, or increase calls to the Samaritans tenfold! I suppose I could always wait a little while longer? Nab the little twerp if and only if he looks about to leave... perhaps he'll go into the hall like a good little guest!? He was still debating though. Rudyard was making no signs of moving in any direction, but did glance towards the exit a couple of times. He could just be waiting for someone? He could be ready to leave?.. Oh well, not much choice I suppose. He looked round at the buffet table, and helped himself to a large cup of coffee. A good dose of caffeine should help in any conversation with this blowhard!

As Arcane made up his mind and grudgingly began making his way towards Rudyard, after retrieving his case, a movement caught his eye and he saw a familiar figure entering the lounge, accompanied by a another person. Sod Rudyard!... Hello number four! He smiled to himself, putting the coffee back down -- no need for caffeine with her! --and continuing his walk, but moving past his original goal and onto the new one. As he did so, he got out his Celphone;

"Graham. Forget number five for now, unless you're in the middle of it. Number four's here. Arcane out!" he uttered in a hushed tone, before putting the phone away and approaching the target, a broad, saccharine smile crossing his face and his arms outstretched in a warm greeting;

"Carla! How simply marvellous to see you, Cherie!"

"Anton... an unexpected pleasure, non?" she replied in a thickly French-accented voice, smiling back at him. Beside her, another, younger, woman merely nodded an acknowledgement to Arcane. He didn't recognise her. "I heard you might be coming, Cherie, but.. you were not on the list, and I did not want to get my hopes up.. too much." Each and every word and pause seemed accompanied by an overly dramatic gesture. The woman *was* an overly dramatic gesture herself, clad in a voluminous blue robe, and enormous hoop earrings nearly down to her shoulders.

"Carla... you flatter me."

"Non, Anton. This conference... would not be quite the same without your presence. You've not attended in years."

"Nor you, Cherie."

"Ah, Anton. When you are busy, these things.. they get sadly neglected."

"But not this year... eh, Carla?"

"Indeed non, Anton. This year... this year I had a feeling that it would be... something special."

"I could say that any conference with you attending, Carla, was bound to be special."

"Exactement," she smiled, "but not like you to play down your own importance, Cherie. Your presence here is not without its own magnitude.. and desirability."

"Well, Carla, that rather does go without saying, does it not?" He glanced at the other woman with Carla -- an attractive woman in a harsh sort of way --and, he had to admit, dressed a little risque for a conference in the middle of the Hilton... not that he was complaining! "You have a companion, Carla. I don't believe I've had the pleasure, " Arcane said pleasantly. Nor am I likely to, judging by that look on her face!

"Forgive my manners, Cherie. Anton... my assistant, Debbie. Debbie, Dr. Anton Arcane."

"Nice to meet you, Doctor," Debbie replied, in a voice that sounded anything but nice.

"Likewise," Arcane said brusquely, before turning back to Carla. "So, Carla, anything special lined up to try and win first prize... or just here as an observer?"

"I'm always observing, Anton, but I plan on a little something that will cause.. quite a stir. You especially, Cherie, will appreciate it."

"Well, Carla, I'm always on the lookout for anything that could possibly expand my mind... and I'm sure I can rely on you to provide such a stimulus."

"Expand your mind, Anton," she smiled; "I can guarantee you will find it so stimulating... it will positively explode your mind."

"I look forward in anticipation, Carla."

"As do I, Cherie."

"Not even remotely interested in what I have to offer?"

"But of course, Anton... but since I know you won't tell me.. why ask?"

"You do have a point, Carla."

"My sources tell me you've acquired recent new premises from General Sunderland?" she changed the subject.

"Your sources are correct."

"Congratulations, Anton. I hear it's... impressive. I suspect you are about.. to go up in the world, Cherie," she commented, and for just the merest fraction of a second, Arcane could have sworn he saw, out of the comer of his eye, the merest glimmer of a smirk touch Debbie's lips. He made a mental note to remember that look. It could just have been his imagination, but if Debbie were ever to stick a knife through his heart and give it a good twist, he'd bet anything that that would be the look on her face as she did it. "I think, perhaps, Cherie, that when I achieve my goal from these festivities... that General Sunderland will see fit to have me running such a complex... perhaps even yours, Anton?" she laughed, implying a joke... but Arcane knew her far better than that.

"I think it's safe to say that the General is more than satisfied with the excellent results my genius provides him with... and my complex is exactly that... mine," he said jovially, but with enough of a hint of territoriality creeping in. Carla just smiled.

"C 'est la vie, Anton... pour maintenant."

"What can I say, Carla... Je suis desole," he said softly, with a superficial smile as he inclined his head sideways a little.

"Well, Anton, pleasant as this has been, I should go into the hall now. I look forward to our competition, Cherie, and what pieces of knowledge I can glean from it."

"Still collecting those pieces of the puzzle, Carla?" he said in a tone of voice that made you unsure if it was friendly mirth or a mocking tone.

"Oh indeed. I'm sure our confrontation this weekend will give me many new pieces... I'm counting on it, Cherie."

"I do hope you won't be too disappointed, Carla." He lied smugly.

"In you, Anton... never!" she gave a laugh and turned to her assistant. "Come, Debbie. Time to leave Anton," she put an arm round the woman's shoulder, fondly squeezing her, before her hand moved downwards ever so slightly, almost stroking the woman's back. Debbie merely reciprocated by reaching back to stroke Carla's hand.

"Goodbye, Doctor," Debbie said in a voice that was nearer a sneer, as she and Carla wandered off to the main hall. Arcane squinted a little to make sure he'd seen correctly, and with an eyebrow raised in curiosity, consigned another mental note to his cerebral cortex. Just good friends, eh? He contemplated with an amused smile. Blatantly unprofessional though, allowing an assistant to get that close. Risky... A recipe for disaster! What kind of twit of a scientist leaves themselves open and allows that from an assistant, let alone encourages it!? With a shrug, he got out his celphone.

"Graham!..... What?.... No. I don't know what I'm doing for lunch yet! Just get on with your job. Now listen... you'll have plenty time with number four; she's just gone into the hall --" He turned and glanced behind his back; "-- Oh, and number five's still here as well. No sign of anybody else yet though. Arcane out." With a resigned sigh, he went back over to the buffet table and retrieved the cup of coffee, before making his way towards a tall and distinguished looking man standing to his right.

"Dr. Rudyard... how simply wonderful to see you here..."