The 'others'---MSSA Agents Orange, Clinker, Nok-Nok, Dublos Evan, and Shrapnel, as well as now-ordinary teenager Byhaps, trudged towards the city of Muse in silence.
It certainly was a somber occasion---and the fact that one of their own had been the enemy was no bonus. Fitcher glanced back towards the White Deer Inn and the forests surrounding the hidden ruins made by the Sindar. The forest still burned.
T's not gonna like this... he thought. MSSA had been in enough trouble lately, and burning down eastern Muse and desecrating some sacred ancient place was not going to help public relations, that was certain. Not that most of the public was even aware of MSSA, but they would surely blame it on some government branch.
"What...are we gonna do about...HER?" Fitcher asked. He didn't want to say Saxanne's name aloud because of Byhaps.
"MSSA will send cleanup agents to the ruins, don't worry." Orange assured him. "We're gonna catch hell from T for that fire, though..."
"Sorry, that was my fault..." Shrapnel said sheepishly. Godfrey quacked angrily.
"We'll just deal with things as they come." Nok-Nok said in his usual laid-back fashion.
They walked up the road to the gates of Muse. The guards nodded at them, and they were about to walk in.
"Oh crap..." Orange said suddenly. "It's Frank, hide!" They all dove off the street to each side of the city gates, except for Byhaps and Dublos. Fitcher wasn't sure who they were talking about, but for once, he sure as hell wasn't gonna wait around until trouble found him.
In any case, it was far too late for all of them. Dublos had been seen, and was still busy staring off into space. Byhaps had gotten off the road, bewildered, but he wasn't quick enough anyway. A short man with slicked back white hair, middle-aged, smoking a cigar with a look of pure sleaze on his face sidled smoothly up to Dublos, who still hadn't noticed him.
"Mister Evan, my dear friend, you look troubled." the man, dressed in a black suit and tie, said with a tongue of silk. Dublos jumped, startled.
"Aack! You guys, hide, quick! It's---" Dublos said, belatedly.
"Fallout Frank's the name," the man said without missing a beat. "And I know some of you from previous experience--most of you, in fact." Fitcher heard Orange groan, and suddenly he remembered. He knew this bozo as well! 'Fallout' Frank had often come around City Hall when Fitcher had worked in the government, peddling his 'invaluable' services to government officials who had had some bad press.
"Why the long face, my dear?" Frank asked Orange. "Don't worry about your little secrets---I know you're all part of SOME special forces unit or something, I've seen you all about. And I have to say, without yours truly to help you, you've all gotten atrocious reputations according to the daily paper! That's where I come in."
"We don't need your business, Frank." Shrapnel snapped, and Godfrey quacked his agreement. Frank smiled devilishly.
"Why, if it isn't the explosive elf himself." Frank said, and then he spotted Byhaps. "AND the arsonist? Why, this entire group SCREAMS bad public relations! What you need are my services to spruce up all your bad images!" Fitcher shook his head.
"Two-thirds of the political aides you 'serviced' were thrown out of office, Frank..." Fitcher said.
"I see you've met Fallout Frank, Fitch..." Clinker said with a smirk.
"Of course we've met!" Frank said, suddenly acknowledging Fitcher and putting his arm around him, all buddy-buddy. "We worked together extensively while he was still at City Hall! We're the best of friends!" Fitcher grimaced.
"Uh, no we're not..." he said. Frank turned to him and gave him another greasily-slick smile.
"Well, the best way to remedy that is to BECOME friends by working together NOW!" Frank said smoothly.
"I don't think so." Orange said, putting her foot down. "We told you, Frank, we don't want or need your services. Goodbye." She turned and walked through the gates into Muse. The others followed.
"Wait, wait!" Frank said, running after them, "You're just nervous because you've never tried a service as good as mine before! I can work wonders for your image in the eye of the public! Why, look, I'll even show you my best case!!!" He dug around in his suit coat, and produced an old, yellowed newspaper. It was still legible, however, and curiously Fitcher took it and looked at it.
"You remember that guy in the Empire a few years back, Carl Delacorte?" Frank asked eagerly. Fitcher examined the newspaper.
"Uh, not really. What is this, some kind of international sex ring or something??" Fitcher asked confusedly. Dublos perked up suddenly.
"What? Sex?? Where? Let me see!" he cried, looking over Fitcher's shoulder at the paper, which had a drawing of a nude woman across the front as well as ads for something that very much appeared to be some kind of prostitution ring. Frank, red-faced, grabbed the paper away quickly.
"Whoopsy. Wrong one, there---just a token of one of my satisfied former clients." He said, flustered. "Aha! Here we are!" He produced another old newspaper, only this one was actually a newspaper, instead of some magazine. Orange rolled her eyes.
"Why should we care who this Carl guy is? You're wasting our time." she said impatiently.
"He's better known as 'Cats'." Frank said dramatically. Clinker's eyes widened.
"THE Cats? Crazy Cats Delacorte?" he asked, incredulous. Byhaps looked confused.
"Who?" he asked. Frank was more than happy to explain it.
"Cats was a member of one of the noble families of the Kunan and Senan areas in the Scarlet Moon Empire. But then, of course, he went a little mad, and declared that he was going to take over every Imperial base one by one until the land was his." Fallout Frank said. He handed the newspaper to Fitcher, who read the headline.
"MAD 'CATS' DECLARES CONQUEST!!!" The paper had an unflattering portrait of the man, and an unflattering article about him, as well.
"What's your point? So everyone hates him. That doesn't prove anything." Clinker said. Frank smiled in that slimy way he had.
"That was before he met yours truly." Frank said. He pulled another newspaper out of his jacket (how many did he carry in there?) and handed it to Fitcher.
"CATS FALLS IN BITTERSWEET POLICE STING: ALL OUR BASE DON'T BELONG TO HIM", Fitcher read, "Former criminal hailed as visionary and hero of the people." The portrait in this edition portrayed Cats as some kind of benevolent saint, kissing a baby and being dragged away against his will. Fitcher was impressed.
"You did this??" he asked uncertainly. If he could make a man who turned on his own Emperor look good, maybe Frank could help their images a bit.
"Oh?? Why don't you tell them what happened to Cats after your little publicity stunt, Frank?" Orange said severely. Frank looked embarrassed.
"Well...he was executed, of course..." Frank said quickly, "But that's not the point! The masses loved him, and in the end, he became a martyr instead the deplored fiend he was at the beginning! My service worked perfectly!!" The agents were less than convinced, of course.
"...I don't wanna be executed..." Byhaps said uncertainly.
"Not to worry, boy! That would never happen, even to criminals such as yourselves! My skills have improved even since then, though I have to say that the Cats incident was my most publicized triumph." Frank insisted, "That's why they call me Fallout Frank! I turn the onslaught of media fallout into nothing but praise!"
"...should we?" Dublos said.
"You're actually considering this??" Orange scoffed. Fitcher shrugged.
"How about we check with Agent T, first?" he said.
"We may as well, Orange. Things've looked pretty shabby for our image as of late, and this deal with Saxanne will not help, I guarantee it." Nok-Nok reasoned.
"Fine." she snapped. She turned to Frank. "We'll consider your stupid offer. But first we're checking with our superior, and if I so much as catch you WALKING in the same direction as we are, I will gut you, so help me." Frank nodded, grinning.
"Of course. I won't even watch which way you go, my dear. Your secrets are safe with me." Frank said smoothly. She glared.
"You don't know any SECRETS, and it's staying that way." she spat, storming off into the heart of Muse. Fitcher and the others followed closely behind her.
******
Agent T sat at his desk in his office. Ever since he saw those flashes in the east the previous night, obviously the product of some magical runic attack, he had dreaded this moment. The fact that they had jailed Darryl Kriegstoff, yet the boy Byhaps was still under magical control, meant that they had the wrong man.
He glanced compulsively at a thin stone slab that was mounted on his wall, which had a few small plaques upon it. They detailed agents of MSSA that had fallen in the line of duty.
Please, he prayed, Don't make me add to that list today.
Unfortunately, his prayers went unanswered, it seemed.
"Agent T..." Agent Orange said, filing into his office, along with Nok-Nok, Clinker, Fitcher, Dublos, Shrapnel and Byhaps. T inhaled deeply, and looked up. Immediately he regretted it. He knew who was missing, and moreover, he knew why.
"Don't say it..." he murmured. "Saxanne...was behind all this, wasn't she?" None of the agents wanted to confirm this and stomp T's demeanor further into the earth, but Byhaps eventually spoke instead.
"Yes...yes, she was. But she's gone now. She's gone..." he said. It was almost like he was reaffirming it for himself, more than informing T about it. T shook his head, downcast.
"We should have been more watchful..."
"There's no way you could have known, T. She left no indication of anything she had done until the library burned down." Nok-Nok insisted. T looked up, and nodded.
"I suppose you're right. Still, this is a dark day for our agency. When we can't even trust our own..."
"Speaking...of all that..." Fitcher put in. "We were wondering if MSSA was going to take any 'official' action regarding possible...er...press coverage of recent events."
"I was thinking we should hire that Frank guy." Dublos added.
"Well, actually, I did anticipate that the media might jump on this rather harshly, so I took the liberty of hiring us an attorney." T said. Clinker blinked.
"Oh, great. We're at the stage where we need legal representation, now?? Nuts..." he sighed.
"Her name is Retsuna Zebunta, and she's been hired to make an official statement to the press, not protect us in legal matters." T clarified.
"Oh, I see." Clinker said, brightening. "A press conference."
"What about that Fallout Frank guy?" Orange pointed out. "We pretty much told him that we'd hire him. I mean, through his logic, anyway. In his business, anything other than utter rejection means he's essentially been hired."
"Well, let them both speak at the conference, then." T said. "I won't have MSSA sullying its reputation any further by suddenly starting to break contracts as well as all the other things."
"Can we afford to pay them both their full fees?" Nok-Nok said.
"Sure..." Orange put in. "Frank's a dirtbag. I'm sure his rates are far less than an actual attorney."
"Very well, then." Agent T concluded. "Miss Zebunta will meet you in the main square shortly, Agent Fitcher. I'd like you to attend the conference with the speakers." Fitcher nodded, he'd handled things like press conferences before while working in City Hall.
"If you don't mind, T, I'd like to get back to my work." Nok-Nok put in. T nodded, and dismissed him. He glanced at the rest.
"Clinker, you're dismissed, but stay close in case we need your services. Dublos, if you could, please take Byhaps somewhere where he can relax for a while. He's been through a lot. Orange, could you send a cleanup crew to the eastern forests of Muse, contact the deceased's family, and send Darryl in to me? Shrapnel, I need to speak with you, as well..." Agent T commanded. The agents dispersed to do their appointed tasks.
Fitcher, as he headed off to the press conference, glanced back towards T's office. He could see Shrapnel taking a seat, and T with a very grim look on his face. The door closed, and he could only wonder what fate was to befall the elf agent.
******
The main square was half-full by the time Fitcher arrived there. Evidently having been tipped off by T, the city had already erected a makeshift stage just for the occasion. A podium sat upon it, and was the focus of most of the people crowding into the square, many of whom were reporters for the several newspapers in Muse. There was a set of wooden steps leading onto the stage, and to Fitcher's chagrin, Fallout Frank was already standing near them, smoking his cigar. Near him was a woman of about five-foot-one, with bleached blonde hair and a pretty face. She wore a simple blue pantsuit, and shoes that came off looking a tad on the large side. Fitcher figured this was the attorney.
"...Are you Retsuna Zebunta?" Fitcher asked, approaching her. She nodded.
"Yes, I am. I assume you work for Mister Arnell. Your name is...?" It took Fitcher a moment to register what she meant---'Arnell' must have been the name Agent T gave her when he spoke with her.
"I'm Fitcher. I've heard you come highly recommended." he said, extending his hand, which she shook right away.
"Pleased to meet you, Fitcher. Glad to be here." Retsuna said, glancing at the crowd, which was still growing larger. "I just hope that this'll be enough to keep everyone from panicking." Fitcher looked out at the crowd as well. As soon as Retsuna released his hand, Fallout Frank rudely shoved in, grabbing hers and over-enthusiastically shaking it.
"Good morning, Miss Retsuna!!!" Frank said, obviously having heard her name from someone else, "I'm Fallout Frank, at your service. Have you experienced any bad press lately? News journalists' reviews got you down?? Well, fear no more, because with my exemplary services..."
"Be quiet, Frank..." Fitcher sighed. Retsuna blinked, and absently allowed her hand to be shook.
"Are you attempting to sell something to me?" she asked. Fitcher turned to her, embarrassed.
"Listen, Retsuna, let me apologize in advance, but...our, er, office, before we found out that we'd have your services, hired this guy. So, uh, he'll be....helping, I guess. Sorry."
"Nothin' to be sorry about! Fallout Frank never fails!" Frank said confidently, missing the point.
"Um, all right then." Retsuna replied. "But I must ask... what were you thinking?" Fitcher felt even more foolish.
"He seemed convincing, all right?" he said, lowering his voice.
"What's the hold up, missy?" Frank said eagerly, completely oblivious to the fact they were discussing him. "Let's get this started!"
Retsuna nodded to Fitcher, and then turned to Frank, narrowing her eyes dangerously.
"I am no... 'missy'." she said. Frank ignored her, of course, and hopped up on stage to the podium. Fitcher glanced up at Fallout Frank, getting a feeling of impending doom in his stomach.
"Well, not to be rude, but you'd probably better hurry before he opens his mouth up there....Anyway, good luck!" he said to her.
"Thank you." the attorney said with a smile. She walked up the stairs and across the stage to the podium, where Frank was already beginning what he figured was his own 'grand speech'.
"Citizens of Muse---" he began. "Eh? Oh, you're up." He reluctantly allowed Retsuna to take center stage. She turned to the assembled throng of people, and projected her voice for all to hear.
"Citizens of fair Muse! My name is Retsuna Zebunta. I am an attorney. We are here to tell you about the recent events in the city and nearby, and to lay any rumors to rest." She paused briefly, allowing the information to sink in. "First, there is the issue of the marketplace bombing that occurred. I am sure most of you know that it was an elf who committed this act. What you don't know is that this elf had been arrested, but he escaped from custody. However, he has been apprehended and is awaiting his trial." Retsuna explained. A murmur ran through the crowd as the information sank in. Fitcher nodded to himself---so far, so good. This woman handled herself well in front of a crowd, something he himself had never quite gotten the hang of.
"Now, listen, however," Frank said suddenly, shoving between Retsuna and the podium, "I would like to note that the elf is widely hailed as a ...er...national hero for his valiant defeat of one of the lesser crimelords of Muse! His deeds will go down in Jowstonian history!" Frank looked out eagerly into the crowd, expecting a huge eruption of cheers, as if he had just announced that God lived among them. He got nothing. Retsuna rolled her eyes.
"Yes, in a way, he was justified, but he is hardly a national hero." she said to the crowd and Frank collectively. Frank, unfortunately, didn't seem to get the hint.
"Nonsense, my dear Miss Zebunta! Why, he's an INTERNATIONAL hero! His deeds will surely rocket him to godhood! The city would be in shambles without his powerful leadership!!!" he trumpeted, obviously making it up as he went along. Sure, he had promised good press, but who would buy this drivel? Retsuna didn't miss a beat, however.
"I would hardly call anyone who bombs a marketplace and injures innocents a hero." she replied evenly. Frank reddened visibly.
"Y-you have no idea! He was plagued by an international band of Highland terrorists! And the innocents...er...recovered, didn't they??" he claimed valiantly. The crowd sat in stunned silence, wondering where on earth this bozo got the nerve to say such things.
"Er, please continue, Miss Zebunta..." Frank said sheepishly. She stared flatly at him for a second, then made ready to continue.
"Wait!" said a reporter from the Daily Muse, in the front of the crowd. "Miss Zebunta, does City Hall have any comments to make about the alleged attack on the Muse Inn by ganglord Eddie Russo? There've been conflicting reports..."
"Oh? And what would these reports be?" Retsuna inquired. The reporter checked his notes quickly.
"Well, witnesses report a bloody massacre---some gunshots were even heard---and it was never clear if there was a high death toll, or relatively low one." he said uncertainly. To Fitcher's amazement, Frank had the gall to shove in before Retsuna could even collect her thoughts.
"All accusations are false! The glove didn't fit, anyway! Racism! Racism!!" he screamed. Fitcher slapped his forehead in absolute humiliation. He found himself wondering what they had all been smoking to make this guy sound even remotely good.
"The death toll was quite low. Furthermore, all casualties were those of Eddie Russo's gang. Shortly after the battle, Eddie Russo himself was driven from Muse. To the best of my knowledge, he hasn't returned, and I highly doubt that he will." Retsuna said to the reporter, wisely ignoring the walking bag of idiocy that was Fallout Frank. Several people in the crowd applauded and cheered at this news---Eddie Russo had been quite the annoyance.
A female reporter from the Muse Sun newspaper raised her hand.
"Miss Zebunta!" she called. Retsuna focused her attention on the reporter.
"Yes?"
"I'd really like to know the government's standing on the library incident." the reporter said, voicing a question that many people wanted to know.
"That's right! We thought it was resolved, but then rumors started that the Army got the wrong man! What's really going on?" the Daily Muse reporter added.
"I can answer that, Miss Zebunta." Frank said, stepping up to the plate to the dismay of all. "Quite frank-ly, I'm of the stout opinion that our fair country was attacked---by albino leprechauns! Beastly little buggers, they are! Now, no need to fear----" Fitcher couldn't handle it any longer.
"ZIP IT, Frank!!" he cried from the side, exasperated. He had tried being discreet, but that was evidently not a language Frank spoke well.
"This is a bit complicated, so bear with me." Retsuna explained, "After the unfortunate incident, the first suspect was a boy named Byhaps; although he actually did commit the deed, it became obvious through investigation that he was not responsible for his actions. In fact, he had been controlled by a magician. Evidence brought a man called Darryl Kriegstoff into suspicion, so he was arrested. However, that evidence turned out to be planted and the real perpetrator was a runemistress known as Saxanne. She was killed shortly after she was found to have been the one behind it."
The crowd, having stayed silent while Retsuna finished her explanation, burst into activity.
"Do you know the manner in which this boy was controlled?" one reporter called.
"Was this magician responsible for the so-called 'abnormal activity' occuring east of Muse last night??" another asked. As Retsuna formulated answers for all the incoming questions, Fitcher noticed some people wading through the crowd towards him.
It appeared to be Darryl Kriegstoff, flanked by two different women Fitcher had never seen before. On his right was a pretty young woman who appeared to be in her twenties somewhere. She had shoulder-length brownish-blonde hair, which framed her youthful, smiling face, which was adorned with a pair of glasses. She wore a simple red dress that went a bit past her knees, and matching shoes. Fitcher tried to figure in his head just who it was she reminded him of, but couldn't place it. On Darryl's left was a taller woman, and somewhat older, it looked, perhaps in her forties. She was dressed all in black as if in mourning, and had a veil over her face. Her long hair was at the moment tied up in a simple bun. She appeared to have been crying. They made their way through the crowd and over to Fitcher.
"Oh...er...Darryl?" Fitcher said. He wasn't sure what to say, and felt guilty for having accused the apprentice magician of having been behind the arson and Byhaps' mind-control.
"This is Lorraine," Darryl said simply, gesturing to the woman in black, "Saxanne's sister. If it's all right, she'd like to say a few words." Fitcher suddenly understood why she was in mourning---her sister had just been killed. At least he hadn't been the one to do it, or he didn't think he'd have been able to look the woman in the face.
He nodded, and signaled to Retsuna.
"No, I don't know how he was controlled, and to my knowledge, she was the one responsible for the abnormal activity last night." Retsuna answered to the reporters. She glanced over at Lorraine, seeing Fitcher's signal, and turned to the crowd again.
"Excuse me for a moment." she said, stepping down, but not before giving Frank a 'don't do anything I wouldn't' glance. Frank nodded in response, disregarding her warning completely.
"Friends! Jowstonians! Countrymen! Obviously while we slept serenely in our beds at night, this VILE sorceress was ensnaring the highest levels of our government! Why, her dark powers are even linked to the legendary----" Frank began dramatically, until Fitcher cut him off with a Glare of Death. Retsuna approached Fitcher.
"Uh, Miss Retsuna...this, apparently, is the magician's sister. Would it be all right if she spoke a few words to the people??" he requested.
"Arnell has already cleared it, in case you're wondering." Darryl put in, evidently up to speed on everything.
"I'll be brief, I promise." Lorraine said.
"Of course she may." Retsuna said, stepping out of the way so Lorraine could ascend the stage. She leaned close to Fitcher, whispering. "I still think that hiring that man was a terrible idea, though."
"Oh, I more than agree with you, now..." he said, nodding.
"Thank you." Lorraine noted before climbing the stage. Frank noticed her and faced the crowd.
"Ahh, here we are. Citizens of Muse, here to make a brief statement, allow me to introduce---the sister of the Evil Sorceress!" he said cheerfully, clapping fakely as Lorraine approached the podium.
"FRANK!" Fitcher cried, appalled.
"No, it's all right..." Lorraine said to Frank, before turning to address the people. "Hello. My name is Lorraine. I...I'm sure that now you're all aware that my late sister, Saxanne, was behind the arson and recent attack at the forest east of Muse. My sister and I...we weren't always close. It seemed we had...grown apart. But I want you all to know that Saxanne wasn't always 'evil', as you so delicately put it..."
"Er...heh...." Frank said, feeling a bit foolish. Lorraine continued.
"As a runemistress, I'm afraid my sister must have begun to dabble in some things she probably never should have. I just want you to know... on her behalf, and on behalf of my family, I sincerely apologize for her actions---to the men she attacked, to the city of Muse, and especially to that boy. ...t-that's all." She rushed from the stage, overcome with emotion, it seemed. Retsuna, who had followed her up but remained silent during the speech, shot Frank a look of death for his comments. Fitcher had a feeling that if looks could kill, Fallout Frank would have died long ago.
"Does anyone have any questions?" she asked. The crowd, including most of the reporters, seemed satisfied with Retsuna's explanations of recent events--she had been clear enough. Frank's comments, on the other hand, had left a few people confused.
"...Could you repeat that part about the leprechauns?" a reporter from the trashy local magazine, Muse: Revealed! asked.
"Is Lady Anabelle...uhh...under the Evil Sorceress's control?" asked an old man with a blank stare on his face.
"There are no leprechauns. No, Lady Anabelle is not being controlled by an evil sorceress. The supposed 'evil sorceress' has died." Retsuna assured them. This prompted Lorraine to choke out a sob, however, which in turn got Frank glared at again by Fitcher AND Darryl. He must get that a lot. There were no more questions.
"That's all, then. This conference is over." Retsuna declared, however, she didn't budge, waiting first for Frank to leave, for obvious reasons.
"Thank you for coming, and sleep well!" Frank shouted, walking off-stage amidst half-hearted and somewhat bewildered applause for him. As soon as he got off the stage, Fitcher punched him in the arm.
"You stupid jerk." he spat. Frank was not phased.
"Nonsense, my friend! You've never had better press than that, I assure you. I made the enemy look even worse and you chaps look like GOLD!" he declared triumphantly.
"More like Fool's Gold. Just get lost, all right? I can't stand the sight of you anymore." Fitcher muttered. Frank gave him a slimy wink.
"Right-o. I'd better go before they start hounding me for autographs again." he said, slipping away into the crowd. Retsuna made her way offstage, amidst genuine applause for her portion of the conference.
"Leprechauns indeed..." she muttered upon reaching Fitcher.
"Thanks so much, Retsuna... I know that must've been harder to do with that idiot up there. Again, I'm sorry, and I'll see what I can do about getting you a little more money for having to put up with that." Fitcher said gratefully.
"You're quite welcome." Retsuna replied. "Please tell me you didn't pay him in advance, though. He doesn't deserve a single potch for that shoddy performance." Fitcher felt himself agreeing wholeheartedly. Frank deserved a blunt object to the head more than payment of any kind.
"I'll ask ....er, Arnell....yeah, I'll ask him about that. I'm not in charge of that stuff." he said.
"We need to get back to HQ, Fitcher." Darryl spoke up. The blonde woman next to Darryl spoke for the first time.
"Er...Darryl?" she said uncertainly.
"You too, Penny." Darryl confirmed. "I have to clear something up." Fitcher wondered privately what he was up to.
"Right. Well, thanks again, Retsuna." he said to the attorney. "Hopefully you should be receiving your payment shortly, and we'd certainly hire you again." She nodded.
"I'm glad to have been of service."
Fitcher, Darryl, and the blonde girl called Penny turned and disappeared into the rapidly dispersing crowd.
*******
Running down the flights of stairs beneath Jowston Hill, Fitcher and the others hurried back to MSSA Headquarters. Entering through the main entrance, Fitcher almost thought something was amiss, as Kent was not guarding the doorway as usual. Then he remembered that Kent didn't work there anymore---he had eloped with Self-Sacrifice Sally the previous night.
They were met with the sight of a much more tranquil Shrapnel being hauled away by soldiers, towards the exit. Godfrey was in a cage under the arm of one of them, silent.
"W-what's going on?" Fitcher inquired.
"Don't worry, you guys." Shrapnel said calmly. "I'm just...going away for a while. I did a terrible thing, and now it's time to pay the piper. But I'll see you again. Be sure of that." Darryl came over and patted him on the shoulder.
"I've been there, man. I'll be rooting for ya." he said. The elf nodded and allowed himself to be taken away.
"Oh, Darryl...I never knew this place was so...magnificent. It's more spacious than I had imagined." Penny said. Fitcher glanced uncertainly at her, but shrugged it off and they all made their way for T's office.
They opened the door, and went inside. T seemed somewhat caught off guard. He was polishing golden plaques upon a mounted stone slab on his wall. He had a brand new one in his hand, and it seemed like they had burst in on him right before he had a chance to mount it.
"Hope this isn't a bad time, Agent T." Fitcher said. His superior shook his head, and gestured for them to sit.
"Not at all." he said softly. They all took a seat.
"How was the conference?" T asked conversationally.
"It went well, I think...with the exception of Fallout Frank, of course. If it's possible, I don't think he should be paid at all for that performance. Miss Zebunta, on the other hand, deserves a little boost for having to put up with that jerk, I think." Fitcher said.
"I'll see what I can do." T said. He turned his attention to Darryl and the girl sitting beside him.
"So. Is this who I think it is?" he inquired.
"Yeah...I needed to clear up a misunderstanding." Darryl said. "I...I thought you guys arrested me because I had leaked a little bit about MSSA to my girlfriend, here..."
"You've told me that you haven't revealed anything more than trivial information, however, it is still a serious matter." T said. "We can't have things like this getting out. Miss, you do understand this, right?"
"Of course. I'm sorry, sir. Darryl didn't mean any harm, he was only trying to impress me." she said. T nodded.
"Mind you, I don't want this happening ever again. But it's caused no lasting harm. I'll let it go, this once. However, for reasons of security, Miss...ah..." Agent T explained.
"Penelope." she said.
"Yes, Miss Penelope. You understand you shall have to monitored by one or more MSSA agents, without your knowledge as to when, for a certain period of time. And that does not include Mr. Kriegstoff here." T finished. Penny nodded.
"Wait a minute..." Fitcher said. "I'm confused. I thought..." he began. T nodded, understanding.
"Oh, yes. There IS the matter of Pearl." T said. Darryl stared at him, and Penny gave Darryl a funny look of confusion of her own.
"What do you mean? We've been broken up for years." Darryl said.
"What of the letters Agent Fitcher found in your place of residence?" T inquired.
"I had meant to throw those out, actually." Darryl said with a shrug. "I assure you, that bitch is in NO way my girlfriend any longer."
"So you're not keeping any contact with Miss Lione?" T said, to be certain. Penelope looked indignant.
"Of course he is! I'm his girlfriend!" she said in protest. There was a silence.
"Wait a <i>minute</i>." Fitcher said slowly. "You're not dating Pearl Lione, right?"
"No, I broke up with---" Darryl started.
"Oh my GOD! You're ....you're...PEARL'S Darryl?!" Penny exclaimed. "I never knew...!"
"What? How'd you know about...?" Darryl asked.
"You mean you never knew, either? My last name's LIONE!" Penelope gasped. "I'm Pearl's sister! I...I...knew Pearl was dating someone named Darryl some years ago, but I didn't know you were the same one!" Fitcher's jaw dropped at about the same time as Darryl's.
"You're JOKING!" the magician said, flabbergasted. Penny shook her head.
"That stupid whore ruined my life, and yours too, I'm betting." she said.
"She's your own sister and you hate her?" Fitcher said uncertainly.
"Of course. If you knew half the things she did to me..." Penny said gravely. Darryl nodded.
"And me, too." he said.
"Well, I take it you haven't heard about my mission to escort her home, then. She got me, too." Fitcher said. T couldn't help but smirk a little.
"My, you should all start a club." he said with a wink.
"Looks like Pearl's just having a grand old time stepping on everyone on her way to the top." Darryl said sourly. "One of these days, it's going to catch up with her." Penelope nodded.
"When it does, I'll be there." she said.
"Well." Agent T said. "It's no wonder there was a misunderstanding. I think your name is fairly clear now, however, Darryl. You and Penelope are free to go." The magician's apprentice and the cheerful woman nodded in agreement, and stood up, looking into each other's eyes as if they had found a new, wonderful reason why they belonged together even more. Arm in arm, they exited the room, giggling as they plotted against their new mutual enemy, Pearl.
"Er...do you need me for anything else, T?" Fitcher asked.
"Actually, yes, Fitcher. I have a new mission for you, but first I have to find Clinker. If you could, please wait here for a minute." T said, exiting the room. Fitcher sat there, wondering what his new mission might be. He twiddled his thumbs for a moment, until the slab adorned with gold plaques caught his eye. He got up and walked over to it.
Fallen Members of the Muse Secret Spy Agency, it read. There were quite a few plaques, as Fitcher noted, but there were a couple that caught his eye. They appeared to have been polished much more than the rest, and glinted in the light.
Ajax Arnell, Agent "A", the one on the very top read, Founder and Friend. You Will Be Missed. Fitcher examined it for a moment, and then remembered where he had heard that name---'Arnell' was what Retsuna had called Agent T. But why would T use this guy's name? He shrugged, and read the next one that had been shined to perfection.
Agent Georgia, the plaque said, May Your Smile Brighten the Heavens. Fitcher's curiosity was getting the best of him---who had these people been? He glanced over several other names, and then noticed the new plaque that T had left sitting on his desk. He picked it up, already sure of who was on its golden surface.
Agent Saxanne, the freshly-carved words spelled out, What a Tangled Web We Weave. As he gazed at the words, suddenly Agent T and Clinker entered the room.
"Er...I was just looking..." Fitcher said, hoping that he didn't look like he was a complete snoop, rifling through all T's things. T looked at the plaque in Fitcher's hand, and nodded.
"I haven't had a chance to put that up, yet." he said regretfully.
"You're still gonna put it up...? Even after all that she did?" Fitcher asked.
"I don't condone the choices she made, Fitcher. But for the majority of the time, she conducted herself as an excellent agent of this facility, and she will be remembered for it." T said.
"But..." Fitcher said. It didn't seem right.
"She will be remembered. That's final." T said fiercely. Fitcher nodded, and set the strip of golden metal on the desk. Clinker glanced uncertainly at them, but shrugged.
"So, T, y'said you needed me for something." the teleportation expert said.
"Indeed. You will be accompanying Agent Fitcher to the Empire." T said. Fitcher blinked, staring at Agent T. The Empire? He had just barely escaped the Empire!
"Empire? Oh, sure." Clinker said nonchalantly.
"Fitcher, I sent Nora to the Empire to find out everything she could about the whereabouts of that ninja, Aybabtu, that you spoke of." Agent T explained. "She kept in contact, and was last heard from in the Kunan area of the Empire. However, we haven't heard anything for a time, and I'd like you and Clinker to go investigate, if you would."
"Nora...?" Fitcher said. "Okay, then. Of course. We'll have her back in no time." His statement was more bold than he felt at that moment, but he figured he'd get his nerves together sometime soon.
"Not just Nora," T added, "Find the ninja too, if he still lives." Fitcher nodded.
"Well, shall we go, Flaming Ducky?" Clinker asked with a chuckle.
"Watch it, or else." Fitcher said threateningly. But he couldn't even keep a straight face.
"Riiiight. Let's be on our way, then." Clinker said, grinning. "Hold on to your hats!" He tapped his own pointed cap to make his point, and raised his staff.
"Good luck to both of you." T said sincerely. Fitcher nodded.
"Aw, what could go wrong?" Clinker said, and with a flash they were gone. Fitcher knew the answer to that, though.
Everything.
