A wee bit of a note before I get started. 
I set my screen to 1028*7something so my word wrap is at roughly a
hundred and thirty. However, this should wrap at just over seventy. I'm
having fun with Netscape. 

I also have a note or too at the end of this one.

Chapter 2
	The moon was rising. It was one of those nights where the moon seemed
incredibly vast. Seen from the driver's seat of a BMW on the GB Highway,
it looked like it took up half the sky with its looming immensity. It
was not looming in Carin's mind though. She was more concerned with the
man in the back seat. He was still glowing.
	Kyle, for his part, was not doing any thinking at all. He was hurting.
That much hurting takes a lot of brain power and he had none to spare. 
	He had put as much of his Gift as he could into his healing and the
rest was focused on keeping him awake. If he slipped off, his Gift would
leave his injuries immediately and that would probably kill him. 
	They had been driving for almost an hour now. Carin had almost gone to
a hospital. However, when she had passed it and was looking for a place
to park, she looked over at Kyle. His injuries faded. Not completely,
not even mostly, but enough to persuade her to keep on driving. 
	Now she looked over at him. He had crawled back earlier and he was
curled into a ball. A ball which was glowing like a neon sign. His
breathing had evened out from the hard, hacking, gasps that it had
transformed into shortly after entering the car. She returned her gaze
to the road.
	'Well,' she reflected to herself, 'this makes for an interesting
evening. Driving my supernatural, regenerating, poisoned, boyfriend to
Little Rock at ten O'clock in the night is a new way to spend a Friday
night.' Supernatural was the word which caught in her mind. 
	Kyle was a strange individual. Due to the peculiar way which Crysocom
operated, Carin had always assumed Kyle slept during the day. The
employees were all partially freelance. If Kyle wanted to sleep during
the day and work at night, that was his prerogative. But now it was
brought to light that he did not sleep at all. 
	There was also the slight matter of him glowing. That was what was
really unhinging her. Leaping fifty feet horizontally while carrying
her, crashing through six inches of worked stone, piping, and wall
boards, and healing from a massive variety of other wounds she could
deal with slowly. She would be able to accept those somewhat slowly. The
whole glowing bit now, that was just impossible.
	Kyle, for his part, would have been pondering along much the same lines
but since his adrenaline had worn off and he was forced to deal with his
injuries, his mind was simply a white haze of pain. It wasn't as bad as
earlier, but even still, he could barely function. 
	Carin took the GB Highway south towards Laguardia. She had used her
cell phone to have the company plane made ready. The pilot would not
arrive for another eight hours, but they could rest there. She looked in
her rear view mirror. 'Yup. Neon boy is still at it.'

	Less than an hour after that the two of them were sitting in the main
room of the plane. Kyle had put on the overcoat he kept in his trunk to
conceal the light when they had boarded the plane. Now he was sitting in
one of the chairs for visiting CEO's. It had been almost two hours since
he had received his injuries and they were mostly gone. 
	He did another mental review. Ribs were almost healed. Fractured arm
was gone. Numerous scrapes were no more. The concussion was no longer
even noticeable. He would be fine in another hour at this rate, half
that if he pushed. He walked over to the stewardess's alcove and began
hunting around for something to eat.
	Carin was in the cockpit. She was performing a preflight check and was
trying to get everything necessary out of the way. The pilot was on his
way, having been woken up from a dead sleep. He had protested. She named
a figure. He took her he was on his way.
	Now there were preflight checkups that needed doing. She held the clip
board and was noting where necessary, trying to get it done thoroughly
but efficiently. The radio squawked, informing her that the pilot was on
his way. She hit the manual door opener and went out to meet him. 
	Kyle followed, curious more than anything else. He was barely emitting
light anymore and stood in the doorway. Carin was standing on the runway
by the ladder leading to the plane. When important guests or on more
official uses of the plane, it was drawn up to the boarding gate used
for private flights. Now, parked in a hanger, it was just a steel rung
ladder that allowed access.
	The pilot, just recently awoken, walked across the concrete and met
with Carin. From where he stood Kyle could not hear them, but he assumed
it was about the oncoming flight. Carin was a pretty fair pilot and
could take them the whole trip, but she liked to have someone more
experienced. After a few minutes, they made their way into the plane and
were shortly seating in the cockpit, talking about stuff which was
completely indecipherable to their passenger. Within twenty minutes they
were taxiing out onto the runway. 
	As the plane left the hanger a figure emerged from the shadows. It
looked at the departing plane and immediately began to run after it. The
small jet went straight to a private runway. The figure ran, faster and
faster, until she was gaining on the jet. 
	Onboard Carin was proud of the preflight checkup she had done. They
were already on the runway. In a few minutes they would be airborne. The
three occupants of the plane were completely ignorant of the follower.
	Crysocom One was already preparing to take off. It was moving down the
runway now, accelerating rapidly. Already it was moving at twenty miles
an hour. Was anyone to look behind it, he would be most surprised to
notice a figure chasing the plane on foot. He would be more surprised to
notice the figure was gaining.
	The hood blew back as the shadow ran. A single good look now would
reveal that it was a woman, a woman with long dark hair. As the jet
accelerated and the woman began to sprint after it, her robe was thrown
back and most of her body could now be seen. 
	Long legs were covered in a strange cloth, as was her upper body. Her
arms were bare from the shoulder to the forearm where long gloves of the
same cloth as the rest garments, except the rather ordinary looking
cloak, covered her hands and wrists. The material, as one could tell
were they to be most observant, was skin tight yet did not appear to
impede movement. It was shiny, looking almost like ringlets. Yet it
hugged her body, tight and comfortably. 
	The pilot, Carin had leaned his name was Jim Reaver, was preparing for
final take off now. He increased the speed again and continued to do so.
The pursuing woman put on a final burst of speed and was now almost
under the tail fins. Reaver, as he was called while on the job, pulled
back the throttle and the pulled the nose of the plane up. The woman
jumped. 
	Her hands caught the bottom of one of the fins and she held tightly.
The plane tilted upwards a little more and she felt her grip slipping.
Already several thousand feet up she released the plane with her left
hand and tried to pull herself forward with her right. Her hold simply
was not tight enough though and she was pulled from the back of the
plane by the air currents. 
	Her body spread out in free fall, nothing between her and the solid
concrete below.  It was night out and her dark figure could barely be
seen against the sky. Only if someone was looking would they be able to
see her. She hoped it was dark enough and attempted the Slide. 
	She could feel one set of eyes on her, one bond holding her firmly in
place. One figure knew she was there and its will was strong. But not
strong enough to hold a Sister bound to reality. For the will blinked
and in that blink the will was not on her. A tenth of a second was
enough, and the space between attention opened and she slipped through.
Barely two hundred feet from the ground she managed her Slide. 
	Moments later she stalked from the hanger she had originally appeared
in and stood in the doorway, watching a set of lights climb into the
sky. In the light emanating from the hanger her red hair framed a face
that was amazing. Not for its beauty or extreme lack there of, but in
its absolute neutrality. Absolutely average was the face. One would
forget they had ever seen it ten minutes after holding an extended
conversation with its owner. 
	It was a face which glared at the retreating lights. Then it hardened
into determination and she stalked back into the shadows. A moment
later, this reality held no place for her.
	
	Carin sat down heavily. She was tired and needed a rest. Her gaze moved
left to land on Kyle. He was completely healthy. He also was not
glowing.
	"How do you do that?" Kyle, the recipient of the question looked up.
	"Anything in particular or the whole regeneration bit?"
	"Recuperating for right now."
	"I focus my Gift and make it heal me. It's not that difficult." Kyle
was at a loss to explain further. He knew what he was talking about but
could not express it in words.
	"What else can you do?" Carin had a deep need to know more about this
now. Her glowing boyfriend owed her quite a few answers.
	"Pretty much anything that can be done normally I can do, just better."
Kyle did not really know how to put it into words. "Just the physical
abilities though."
	"Superior combat, running, leaping?" Kyle nodded. "You can make
yourself  indestructible, almost immediate regeneration, and super
strong?" 
	"Not exactly. I can't make myself indestructible."
	"You jumped through a stone wall." Carin interjected.
	"I can increase my resistance to impacts. I am still as easily cut,
burned, or shocked. True, if it's nonfatal I can keep going, but if I'm
stabbed in the heart, that's it. Shot through the head? I'm gone. See
the difference?"
	"Yes. How much of this gift do you have?" Carin did not entirely
understand but continued.
	"There's no way to measure it."
	"What if you focused it all into your strength? How much could you
lift?"
	"Well, I can't. I can only put so much into any one area. But if I put
all I could into strength, my Gift would probably let me lift a truck.
Of course, I would still have most of it remaining." Kyle was looking
Carin in the eyes. He had never had to explain his Gift before and as
such was having difficulty finding the right words.
	"Oiy." There was a long pause. "I can see why you didn't tell me. You
should have tried though."
	"Huh?" Kyle found refuge in something he rarely used, a blank stare of
complete incomprehension.
	"You shouldn't keep secrets from me. Not after we've been together this
long."
	"You would have tried to have me committed." Kyle stared some more. He
was not understanding this.
	"No I wouldn't have."
	Kyle looked at her for a long moment. 
	"Alright. I wouldn't have believed you. You still should have tried
though."
	Kyle gave up. "Whatever. Well now I just did."
	"After the fact!" Carin responded hotly.
	Kyle shrugged. What was in the past was unchangeable. He moved on.
"Anyway, please excuse me but using the Gift so much in one day has
exhausted me. I'm going to sleep."
	"I thought you didn't need to." She pounced on this inconsistency like
a tiger on a steak.
	"I don't need to as much. About two good nights a year does it for me."
	"Oh." She watched him rise and walk over towards the couch. He removed
his boots and made himself comfortable.
	"Well excuse me." She was irritated by the abrupt end of the
conversation. Still, he had had a most strenuous day and if he needed a
nap, she would not begrudge him it. 'Come to think of it, I would do
well for one myself.' Rising, she made her own way to a sofa and
reclined herself. A little sleep would do her worlds of good. Maybe Kyle
would be in a better mood when they awoke.

	It was the following morning that Sarah Roxban took her place before
the camera at he required time. She had just discovered last night that
he husband of three years was cheating on her and was preparing to sue
for divorce. She had been muttering curses under her breath for quite
some time and had been thoroughly scolded by her make up assistant for
frowning. Still, her marriage had been one of convenience and there had
never been much love so she was not too depressed. Still, there was
something of a shock and more than a little betrayal. 
	"And five, four, three," the director mouth 'two, one, go' and Sarah
turned to face the camera. 
	"Good morning. I'm Sarah Roxban and this is the Six AM Morning News for
New York City. Today's date is Wednesday, January 17, 2033. 
	"The Dow closed down a hundred points at 23562 yesterday." Sarah
repeated the news as it appeared on the cue cards. Most of these stories
she had been briefed about while getting ready for the camera so she
knew how to pronounce everything involved. That was the secret really.
Well, that and have a very competent writer for the cue cards. Smiling
was a must but pronunciation was what made her the top morning show host
in the city and fourth nation wide. "And that's the General Round Up.
Our top story this morning is what appears to have been a gang fight
involving military weapons in the Siemanse and Rull apartment complex.
We'll have that and others when we return."
	Sarah lifted her sheaf of papers and tapped them so they all were
inline. The director made a cut off motion, Sarah waited three seconds
to be certain, then breathed and explosive sigh of relief before
hurriedly getting out from under the lights.
	"So, what's the deal with the Gang Fight story?" She asked while being
rushed by her makeup assistant.
	"Single apartment on the thirty fifth floor. Completely destroyed,
walls taken out, floor and ceiling dented, the whole bit. Police story
is gang violence and one or both of the gangs had military weapons. No
bodies were found. After that we'll cut to Bill on location."
	"Right."
	"Now get up there." And Sarah took her place behind her desk, smiled
her best smile, and concentrated on pronunciation.

	Chief Wiggum was unhappy. The fact that his name drew a steady supply
of snide comments and practical jokes was not the reason this time. It
usually was, though when the entire department bought him donuts as a
practical joke he decided to let it slide, but this time it was the
crime he had just received the report on.
	Who ever it was, they destroyed that place thoroughly. There had been
no civilian casualties, for which Wiggum was very relieved, but that was
because the noise made had made everyone flee. The owner of the
apartment, one Kyle Holly, had disappeared, and it was unlikely he would
ever be seen again.
It was like a war zone. When Wiggum had been in the army, he had once
been engaged in a border conflict in the middle east. They had avoided
the actual conflict but had removed three civilians of American
citizenship. The apartment next to theirs had been hit by a mortar shell
and that was all he could compare the destruction too.
	Every interior wall in the suite had been destroyed. The exterior wall
had been punctured twice and all the windows were broken. The walls
between that suite and the hall and neighbors were slashed and cut,
unable to support their own weight they had fallen. The load bearing
I-beam column had been removed from the anchorings and thrown out and
had crashed into the street. Fortunately the other columns had easily
absorbed the stress. 
	There was even a hole in the building across the street. The hole went
through six inches of stone. 
	"So, what do you think?" He was addressing his detective in charge of
it. 
	"I don't know. I'd like to speak to a EDT and find out what he thinks."
Stanley Webber replied. He was an old pro on the job and had been
assigned because he had a hobby of blowing things up, legally.
	"I see. What's your best guess?"
	"Someone had a 'toss the concussion grenade' party. I can't think of
anything else which has that much destructive power and such a small
blast radius."
	"Concussion grenades? Got any bits and pieces from them from the site?"
	"Nope. I would like Forensics to go over the site though. You want me
to put out an APB on Kyle Holly?"
	"No. If he is alive, which I doubt, I bet he's holed up somewhere.
Maybe later. You talk to a EDT."
	"Right. We still on for lunch?"
	"Don't know. I have a lot of paper work to do."
	"I'll bring donuts." Detective Webber took his life in his hands and
smiled.
	Chief Wiggum weighed shooting him, decided it wasn't worth the trouble,
and looked around for something small and unbreakable to throw. Stanley
Webber fled.
	
	Kyle was much happier when he awoke.. He felt much better and his Gift
was renewed. Only a few times in his life had he ever strained that hard
in a day and after wards he always felt that peculiar lack. He guessed
it was something like a muscle. Flex it enough and it will be
exhausted.  
	He opened his eyes and looked around the plane. One clock, reading four
thirty; one table, well laden with dinner, and one Carin's behind, six
inches from his face; altogether it was very nice scenery. He settled
down take in the sights. 
	All to soon his primary object of attention moved as she finished
placing the tray down. She had been awoken a few minutes ago by some
turbulence and was laying a meal out for herself and Kyle when he awoke.
She turned around and saw Kyle heave a sigh of disappointment. 
	She looked curiously at his completely innocent expression for a
minute, a frown of curiosity on her face. Abruptly she got a very good
guess at why he was suddenly disappointed and sighed herself, moving to
sit across from him. She concealed her smile, sure it was juvenile, but
it was nice all the same.
	Kyle began to eat and Carin joined him. Because the two of them and
Damion used to have breakfast together at least twice a week, they were
both familiar with the way each other ate. Carin disposed of food slowly
and did not really eat that much. Kyle ate fast and a good deal more.
Damion, quite at odds with his mature, dignified, personality, always
ate like a starving wolf. 
	Kyle abruptly lost his appetite. He had met Damion in Vietnam. He had
been drafted after college and was a grunt. Damion was a freelance
operative of one group or another and he had recognized Kyle's Gift
within three minutes of talking at mess. 
	Over the more than sixty years they had know each other, they had grown
very close. Damion had shown Kyle several things that one needs to know
when aging is not something that concerns you. Damion had faked Kyle's
first death and done the ground work which allowed him to maintain his
new identity. 
	Damion had just stopped aging a long time ago. He once made a reference
to Leonardo being something of a dreamer and a talkative one at that;
Kyle had been severely startled. He did not know just how old his taller
friend actually was but he guessed at least five hundred. The two of
them had a very close friendship based on most of century of knowing
each other and dealing with the same problems. 
The advent of Dymeran was the boon that really helped them out. Taken
regularly, it slowed the aging process considerably if one started it
before the age of twenty. You could be forty and appear thirty.
Admittedly the affects ended after about twenty years and then you
usually had slight kidney damage, not to mention many people suffered
from sleeping disorders, but to them it was a God send. No longer did
they have to move countries every five to ten years to avoid curiosity
about their unchanging features. The fact Kyle slept eight hours a year
and Damion not at all could be hidden much better, they kept irregular
hours because of a side affect. Of course, they had not need of actually
taking the drug, it would have been rather pointless, but it made their
cover up stories that much easier. 
	'And now he's dead.' Kyle could barely force that thought down but
there was no doubt in his mind. Damion had no supernatural abilities. He
had no super strength, endurance, or magic blasts from his wrists. Kyle,
who was laden down with special abilities had almost died from fighting
one of these women. Damion had taken on two. Kyle bit back a desire to
cry. 'He's dead. Buying me time to escape and he's dead.'
He hung his head in his hands.
	Carin looked up from her tray and saw Kyle's obvious distress. She
reached across and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. What's wrong?"
	"He's dead." Kyle's voice, though he tried to keep it even and
controlled, came out racked. Carin could tell he was holding back tears.
	"He could have made it. Damion's a pretty capable guy." She rose and
walked around the table to sit next to him. He did not react to her
presence but kept his face buried in his palms, elbows on knees.
	"No. I took on one of them and was beaten within an inch of my life. I
was once hit by a Mack truck and survived. One of those women nearly
killed me. Damion' is, was, just a guy. He's not supered in any way.
There is no way he could of survived. If it was just one of them he
might had run away. But two? No. He's dead." Kyle spoke, clinging to his
own words. As long as he was speaking he could move through this. 
He had no reaction as Carin leaned across his back and wrapped her arms
around him. She was rapidly approaching tears herself. 
	She had known Damion for several years herself. He was very close with
Kyle and when she and Kyle became friends and later more, he was someone
with whom she was around extensively. He was her friend in his own right
and more. While there was no romantic attachment, he was a great deal
more than just a friend. He knew.
	Within a few months of knowing her, Damion had asked what the dreams
were like. It had shocked her deeply because she had never told anyone
about her two recurring dreams. Yet he knew. He later revealed that he
had known within three days of meeting her. He had never mentioned how.
	Damion was one of the few people she trusted absolutely. Probably the
only person she trusted immediately and without question. She
recollected just a week ago when he had told her to take a flight. If
Kyle had given the same instructions, she would have questioned him
about why until she herself was convinced. When Damion told her to go,
she went. Her trust in him, and really him alone, was absolute. She
never really figured out why. She too realized she was about to cry, but
she felt no reason to hold back.
	When the call came over the intercom that they were over Colorado now
and would be landing inside half an hour, the two passengers were
sitting, arms round each other, just surviving. Carin was all cried out
and rested with her head against Kyle's chest. He was leaning back,
dealing as best he could with his pain, eyes dry. He had done a lot of
thinking about his parent's and brother's deaths. He had outlived them. 

	Four Rock Airport was about as big as the name suggested. It served
several local towns and resorts and that's about it. In a taxi the two
bereaved and mournful individuals were on their way to Little Rock Ski
Resort. It was about forty miles from the airport and the taxi ride was
made in almost constant silence. Neither had anything really pressing to
say but both had much to think about. 
	Kyle looked at the slip of paper. It held an address and that was it.
As far as he could tell, the address was for a small house on the
property of the resort itself. 
	More was made clear as they got out of the taxi and looked around. The
resort itself was crowded. There were uncountable people walking every
which way, numerous buildings, and a veritable myriad of ski shops and
refreshment shops. This was obviously a very large and very popular
vacation spot.
	Making their way to the information desk, they waited until the woman
behind it had a moment and presented the address. She glanced at it and
rung for a bell boy, telling them he would tell them where they needed
to go. 
	This was how, shortly thereafter, Kyle Holly and Carin Wellsferd found
themselves in front of a small house built into the side of a mountain.
Kyle rang the door bell, not quite knowing what to expect.
	The man who opened it was vast. A good deal of his bulk could be
explained in his thick winter clothing but he was still immense.
Standing at least six and a half feet, he was broad shouldered and thick
bearded. His dense black hair and beard was neatly combed and it hid
most of his face. He had small brown eyes and a great beak of a nose. 
He invited them in.
	"So, what brings you to my door? I'm just Tim Bear, a security man on
my day off." His voice was deep and booming. He lead them to some chairs
and poured them some coffee. "I was just on my way to get my mail." He
offered by way explanation as he removed his winter coat.
	Under his winter coat, he was still huge. He was obviously man in
incredible physical shape. 
	"I'm Kyle Holly and this is-" He gestured to the woman beside him.
	"Carin Welsferd." Carin spoke up when indicated.
	"Pleasure to meet you."
	"Ours to." Carin replied.
	"All mine. We were given your address by a friend of ours and he told
us to come here. His name is Damion White."
	Further reply was prevented by the arrival of a small old lady who
emerged from the kitchen. "Damion White? Tall feller? Real thin?"
	"That's him." Kyle replied. 
	"I take it you know him?" Carin offered as well.
	"Sure do. Known him for years. Lemme sit down." This she accomplished
without ado. "Now, what brings you here?"
	Tim Bear  poured coffee and introduced the elderly lady as his aunt
Julia Bear. She appeared to be in her late sixties or early seventies.
"She lives with me ever since her husband died. She's my fathers sister.
Since you appear to have business together, I'll be getting my mail." So
saying he redonned his winter coat and left.
	"His name fits well." Carin commented after he had gone.
	"Don't it? He's what we  call 'A mountain of a man.'" The old woman
agreed and laughed. "So, how's Damion been doin?" 
There was a long awkward pause. Then Kyle replied, his voice soft. "He's
dead."
	The old woman hissed. She stared into her cup for a long time before
drinking. The other two drank as well in the pause. "What 'appened to
him?"
	"He was attacked by two women." Carin supplied. 
	"Women? Damnit Damion, I told they'd get ye yet! Damn, Damn, Damn." The
old woman continued to swear for quite so time, showing a verve and
developed talent rarely present in one of her advanced years. "So what
brings ye here?"
	"I was cut by a different woman and Damion says I might be poisoned."
	"When was this?" Kyle received a look of surprise.
	"Last night about ten." 
	"And yer sill kicking? Yer a tough one."
	The two guests were rather shocked by this revelation. "I didn't know
Miss Rose was so venomous." Kyle said to Carin.
	"Are you feeling alr-"
"Ye were nicked by Janet Rose herself? Almost twelve hours ago? And yer
still kickin'!? Dear God in Heaven, what the hell are ye boy?" The old
lady exclaimed.
	"Excuse me?" Kyle replied. He did a quick mental check. He did feel
kind of tired but other than that was alright. Carin was wearing an
expression of confusion and Kyle guess he looked similar.
	"Holy Hell boy, we need to git ye fixed up!" The woman stood up and
walked to the kitchen, indicating they should follow her. They did,
rather confused.
Inside the kitchen she punched a series of buttons on the stove pad. The
fridge slid down into the floor. Behind it was a long, dark passage
leading down.
	"Come on. We need to get a move on." She took a few steps into the
passage and flicked a switch. Florescent bulbs lit up along the ceiling.
The elderly Bear lead the way down the passage.
	"Carin, something tells me we're in way over our heads." Kyle said.
hesitating to follow the tunnel through what looked like the living
heart of the mountain.
	"Kyle, we went past that point a log time ago." And she lead him down
the corridor.

	At the end of the corridor was large hollowed out room. It was clearly
not natural, being far too perfectly circular. It was roughly hundred
feet in diameter and the worked stone side rose for about twenty feet
before coming together in a cone. The outside floor was littered with
books and tables and most of the walls were covered in selves. On the
shelves we all manner of paraphernalia though bottles and books held the
majority. Kyle could see massive skulls and crystal balls lie next to an
adding machine and periodic table. On one of the tables was a very
extensive computer system and several others held expansive chemical
setups.
	But what dominated the room was the sinkhole in the center. Fifty feet
in diameter it was. Kyle went as close as her dared and saw the sides
slope away to the center, which was out of his sight. A red line was
drawn around it paint and on one side was a complicated winch setup. 
	"What is this place?" Carin asked, looking around in curiosity.
	"It's my lab. Where else would an alchemist do her work in?" The old
woman was walking around, powering up her computer and flicking on
lights. Soon the room was bathed in a white light.
Kyle was not particularly surprised by his revelation. He was pretty
sure he would be dealing with a lot of people in his future who have
very little connection with reality as he knew it. 
	Carin was in a disbelieving shock. Sure the room looked the part but
still. "So, you still in pursuit of turning lead to gold?"
	"We figured that one out years ago, deary." The woman spoke up from
where she was opening a file cabinet. "Problem is the materials required
and time necessary are so difficult it's not worth it."
	"You lost your yokel accent quickly." Kyle commented as he came back
from the sink whole.
	"It was always fake anyway. When Tim gets back we'll really get to work
on curing you."
	"When Tim gets back?" Carin was not sure how he would be able to assist
them.
	"He's the true chemist. I handle the more, unusual, parts of the
procedure."
	"He's a chemist?"
	"Aye, I am. I have a Doctorate from Yale in it." Tim walked into the
room. He flicked a switch by the door and far up the passage a grinding
was heard, what the guests assumed was the refrigerator closing.
	"Oh. Ok." Kyle and Carin drew back next to each other. The huge man did
not look the type to have that degree but if he did, who were they to
argue. Tim began to wash his hands in a sink and the old woman was
pulling weird astrological charts off a shelf. 
	"So, Julia. What's going on?" Tim had apparently also dropped his
accent along the way.
	"Kyle got poisoned by Janet Rose almost twelve hours ago. We're going
to fix him." Tim received this revelation by whirling around in shock
and staring at Kyle. 
	"Janet Rose!? Twelve hours!? What are you boy?" His deep voiced boomed
out.
	"Um." Kyle was taken aback. What was so amazing about that? He did not
really want to reveal his secret but he felt it would answer a lot of
question. "I have the Gift." He used the term Damion had always referred
to it by and he had come to thinks about it with himself.
	Tim and his aunt looked at each other. Then they both nodded and
continued their work. 
	Within half an hour, Tim had drawn a sample of Kyle's blood and was
busy testing away. Carin was seated on a couch with a TV before her and
was watching Kyle. He was relaxed in a chair answering all sorts of
peculiar questions that Julia Bear was asking.
	
	The total procedure took about eight hours. Kyle was needled, poked,
pulled, and tested for hours on end. It took what seemed like forever.
The bulk of the procedure involved Tim and Julia, mixing and concocting
away while the other two watched TV. After about seven hours of that,
the really interesting stuff began.
	Kyle was wrapped in a woolen blanket and hung from a rope. Then he was
winched out until he was above the sinkhole itself and hanging free in
his cocoon of blankets. Then, Julia attached a strange harness to the
blankets while they were hanging out in midair. She preformed the entire
procedure hanging by a life line from the same winch which held up Kyle.
Then harness itself had several tubes and wires leading from it to
another machine on the floor. 
	The two alchemists began to pour, drop, and dribble assorted mixtures
into parts of the machine that the tubes and wires ran too. This part
alone took twenty minutes. 
	"Alright. Kyle, this won't hurt but it won't feel that pleasant either.
Ready and Go!" Julia spoke this last part before throwing a large
switch. A red light blinked on atop the feeder machine and the machine
itself gurgled for a few minutes. Then the red light clicked off and the
green light went on. 
	Tim now began to work the vast winch which lowered Kyle into the
sinkhole itself. Carin kept her eyes glued to him as he was lowered out
of sight until no matter how she craned her neck she could not get a
glimpse of him. She was standing at the red line now but went no
further, having received many a strongly worded warning about that from
the two Bears.
	Then the sink hole closed. It happened so quickly that Carin barely
realized it had begun before it was over. It was as if the opening
itself shriveled up, the walls of the pit flowed together and abruptly
there was just smooth floor across the room. Carin stared in shock.
	"I'd give him about ten minutes?" Julia said to Tim.
	"This is what you know better that me. Shall I get your writing
instruments ready?" He offered.
	"Yes. The red ink please." 
	"What just happened!?" Carin shrieked. She darted across the now smooth
floor and went to the thick cable which protruded front the otherwise
smooth as glass surface.
	"The sinkhole ate him deary."
	"It WHAT!?"
	"Ate him. Took him out of our plane. He's currently being bathed in
those juices we put in there earlier in zero gravity." It was Tim who
answered this round of questions while he began to lay our mats and
paper by where the rope was. "The sinkhole is really a very controlled
singularity in the Andromeda galaxy. This is simply a magical
approximation of it which allows, through the Symbolism Principles, us
to access it and use it."
	"You mean he's in Andromeda?" Carin was not taking this very well.
	"No. He went through there but he's not there anymore. He currently
doesn't exist." Tim finished laying out the equipment and Julia began to
write complicated equations in a language Carin did not recognize.
	"What good did that do?" Carin was panicking. She felt it was the best
choice of action. 
	"The poison doesn't exist either right now. In a few minutes, when
we've created the recall equations, we'll bring Kyle back, but not the
poison. If you've been poisoned by someone like Rose, it's the only way
to cure you. Trust me, we checked."
	Carin returned to the couch where she had been earlier and collapsed.
The little old lady finished her writing and she returned. Tim began to
wheel up the winch.
	The sinkhole reappeared. This time it was a slow procedure as the stone
floor began to swirl slowly. The solid rock flowed around and round,
slowly deepening into a whirlpool of cool granite. The center dipped
down around the cable and began to whirl faster and faster. 
	Abruptly, like a cork held long underwater, the blanket and harness
which held Kyle popped from the middle of the hole and shot into the
air. It hung, almost at the top of the room for a second, before
falling. It swung around for a little while a the end of the crane
before Tim lowered it to the floor. After a few minutes and with a
little help, Kyle emerged. He looked none the worst for the wear.
	"Well, how are you?" Tim asked as he sorted the harness, blanket, and
wires apart.
	"Alright. What did you do?" Kyle had not had the procedure explained to
him very clearly and was very curios to find out what had happened while
he was bagged.
"We stuck you into suspended animation, through a space-time
singularity, pulled you out of existence, let you hang there for a
while, pulled you back into existence, out of the space time
singularity, and you reanimated on your own." Julia Bear was turning off
assorted machinery and reshelving chemicals.
	"Oh." Kyle did not really have much else to say. Carin enveloped him in
a hug which he returned gladly.
	After twenty minutes or so the lab had been cleaned up and shortly
thereafter the four were sitting in the dining room, drinking more
coffee.
	"So, what will you do now?" The elder Bear asked.
	"I don't really know. I didn't have any plans after this." Kyle
replied. He took a sip. "What do you think Carin?"
	Carin did not respond immediately, thinking and drinking. After several
minutes where the silence had deepened considerably as everyone waited
for her to speak, she answered. "I think it's obvious that we can't go
back to New York. If those women were able to find us there, they'll
know if we return. I need to find a way to check in with my job but any
contact I make has to be done is such a way that I can't be instantly
grabbed or abducted."
	"Can't you log in through a computer?" Tim asked.
	"I could, but all that would allow me to do is tell them I'm alive."
	"Isn't that all we'd need? To tell them you're alive and temporarily on
vacation?" Kyle had been thinking. "Look, your not going to be able to
return to work until this either blows over or we've finished it. What
we need, what you need, now is an excuse to be away from your job and
out off contact for a while. Carin, how much vacation time do you have
coming to you?"
	"A month. You want me to waste my vacation time now? Instead of
Florida?" The reply had just a hint of sarcasm. 
	"Fine. That's what we'll do then." Kyle stated, sipping his coffee.
	"Um, Kyle? That still leaves us stuck in the middle of Colorado with no
transportation and I know you don't have that much vacation time. In
addition, we are still on the run from these women." She sipped her own
coffee.
	"They're called The Dynasty of the Stone." The elder Bear again gave
comment.
	"The Dynasty of the Stone eh? Do we now what that means?" Carin
replied.
	"It means a bunch of ultra-powered women who aren't to big on the right
to life. Especially not in people they don't like." The larger Bear
spoke up in a dry voice. He had finished his first cup and was pouring
another.
	"Do you know anyone who knows a bit more about these people and would
be willing to help us?" Carin realized that their lack of knowledge was
eliminating many possible courses of action and that needed to be fixed.
	"Damion was the expert. He and those woman had a mutual hate-hate
relationship for as long as I've lived. He might be alive, but he's
certainly out of contact." Julia stared at her cup as she drank.
	Kyle could not bring himself to believe that Damion was alive. Not
against two of those women. Carin's attention was gained by a different
part of the statement. 
	"As long as you've been alive?" She guessed this woman's age at seventy
one or two. Damion couldn't have been more than forty.
	 "Yup. I first met him when I was twelve. He had come to my
grandfather's lab to acquire something or another. That's when I found
out he was on a one man killing spree against the Dynasty. He's been
after them for a long time." She began to reach into her memories and
was beginning to slip into reminiscing.
	"Just how old is Damion?" Carin was rather surprised.
	"Oh, I'd say at least three hundred." Julia sipped her coffee.
	"More than that. He once made disparaging remarks about Leonardo. On a
personal level." Kyle was thinking back.
	"Oh my." Carin leaned back on the couch. She was somewhat speechless. 
After a moment though she regained her balance. "We need information on
the Dynasty. Do you know where we can go to get it?"
	"Ash." Tim spoke as he sat down.
	"Ash?" Carin questioned.
	"Ash. It's a store in the heart of Seattle. The owner knows more about
this sort of thing than we do. He should be able to get you what
information you need." Came Tim's answer.
	"I agree. Once you arrive at Ash, speak to the manager. He's a short
guy named Ryan Ablex." Julia Bear was writing this down as she spoke.
"He's a short blond guy who looks like he's about to die of old age on
the spot. Good friend of mine. Here's his address." She handed Carin the
slip of paper. 
	"Right. We'll be on our way."
	They spent that night in the Bear residence and did some essential
shopping. Because they had only the clothes on their backs, they
purchased luggage, a few changes, basic toiletries, and other such
things. Carin made a call to her secretary and told her that do to a
family emergency she would be taking her vacation now. She told them she
would be reachable by email if necessary.
	
	This was how at seven AM one fine Thursday morning in January, Carin
and Kyle found themselves on a bus to Seattle with entirely new luggage,
virtually possessionless, and sans a house. They were on the run from
monsters out of nightmare and worse. 
	"At least it isn't boring." Kyle reflected as he made himself
comfortable. 
	Carin managed to resist the urge to throttle him only barely.

1) I'm looking for prereaders. I need several and people who nitpick
grammar are certainly not turned away. I spell check, but we all know
there are lots of things spell checkers miss. 
2) You'll notice that this doesn't have the level of graphic violence
that the other chapter did. I only like to add combat when it has a
point. Gratuitous fighting in a fairly serious story is annoying in my
opinion. This does not mean that there won't be a good deal. I just
won't over use it. or try not too. 
3)This is about my publishing rate. Fifteen pages every few weeks. I
don't have a page yet so I don't have to worry about upkeep. Feel free
to mail me and ask for prior chapters. Because Geocities doesn't like me
it may be a while before I respond, but I will. Eventually.