Same Song, Fifteen Thousandth Verse

This time the group makes the trip back to the club the old fashioned way: They walk. True to Dusker's word, all the security features have been deactivated. There is no sign of the vambli as the group goes down the stairs and circles around through what are apparently preparation and waiting rooms for club staff or performers. (There is, however, the rather mangled corpse of a Peace Force patrolman.) They enter the club through the door next to the bar.

The first thing that greets them on their return is a look on Betham's face that could wilt a hillside in the Goer'dan cloud forest.

"You let him get away," he growls, "didn't you?"

"That's right," replies Par'deth calmly. "He's more use to us out there than here."

"Oh, I'm sure," says Betham testily. "Especially if he starts shooting people, assuming he doesn't wind up getting blown away first. Really useful!"

"I trust his honor," says Par'deth.

"If he gave you his word," says Dauk, "I'm sure he'll keep it."

"Unless he changes his mind," suggests Detective Gar'en.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?" says Pru. "You calling him a liar?"

"I'm only stating a possibility," replies Gar'en.

"What possibility?" demands Pru.

"He thinks Yangae honor means dirt," suggests Blue Yangae D with a mocking giggle. "Same old story!"

"There are no absolutes," says Constable Pal'dun. "Honor means different things to different people. If Par'deth..."

"Different things?" says Blue Yangae D, his voice starting to rise. "Maybe among you Hergs! You can't make up your minds, can you? That's why you have to have someone else control them for you all the time!" He gestures toward the priestesses.

"We do NOT control people's minds!" spits Bina. Keil'i quickly grabs her arm.

"Don't bother," says one of the yellow-marked Yangae on the floor weakly. "They'll never understand."

"No, they won't, will they?" says Blue Yangae D. "But we still have to live by their rules, don't we?"

"I didn't think they had rules," says Dauk with a chuckle.

"Of course we do!" says Constable Pal'dun, his calm demeanor cracking. "Why do you think we're here?"

"To protect your own!" replies Blue Yangae D. "You don't give a clod about us!"

"Why do you think we're here?" adds Dauk. "Fair is fair, right?"

"You aren't sanctioned," retorts Detective Gar'en. He nods toward the yellow-marked Yangae on the floor. "You're also a security risk!"

"The warrrrr has begunnnnn," sings Wari.

"We're a necessary evil," replies Dauk.

"You're a public nuisance!" counters Gar'en. "That's an arrestable offense!"

"You mean like your Blues?" demands Blue Yangae D. "Have you arrested any of them? How much protection have you given us against them? None! Bad enough they're scaring people off the streets and out of their businesses south of the river! Now they're here in Ekr'in, and you guys just look the other way every time!"

"The Blues will no longer give you any trouble," says Par'deth.

"I'll vouch for that," admits Pru.

"Well, I appreciate that!" says Dauk sincerely. "They were honorable enough regarding the others in your team, Pru. I'll give them that."

"It's a start," snarls Blue Yangae D.

"What more do you want?" asks Bina impatiently.

Blue Yangae D eyes her sourly before snarling, "Not much point in mentioning it."

Suddenly everyone is jarred to silence by the crash of a table thrown halfway across the room. Trying to collect his composure, Betham looks at his trembling gauntlets and says, "I don't give a flaming lump what you or anyone else here wants! In case you pack of gits can't figure it out, we still have a problem! Last time I checked, the problem was more serious for you than for us! Am I mistaken here?" He glares bolts of pure ice at the Yangae militiamen. "Now of course, since we obviously don't give a clod about what happens to you, we could just ignore the whole thing and let you suffer, right?" He kicks a chair. "It's not happening, is it?"

"You don't have much choice, Constable," says Dauk impassively. "This thing is turning the Yangae against you! It's simple survival, and you know it."

Betham mutters something under his breath.

"We have a common enemy," continues Dauk. "Therefore we have a common cause. We respect that."

"And if we overcome it?" asks Constable Pal'dun.

"Right back at each other's throat," spits Gar'en as he activates his wrister and starts pecking at it.

"We're not giving in to you!" says Blue Yangae D. "You're not controlling our minds!"

"That's exactly what he said!" says Betham, gesturing at Br'am. Then he gestures at the yellow-marked Yangae. "That's probably what they said! And Dusker, and Mek, and...whatever. Probably even Mas'Vallaf! They all said it! What did it get them?" With a sigh, he stomps off in the direction of the exit.

Pru gives Dauk a horrified look.

"He does have a point," says Mey'Luskar quietly.

Accountings

Ham's scanner shows that the security blocks are still in effect. The way out is not clear.

Widjgleeby looks understandably curious as she rises to her feet. She is not the only one. Even those that witnessed the spectacle show expressions ranging from puzzled to totally blown away.

As the priestesses relax from their trance and heave a sigh of relief, Gaima and Bina move to help Keil'i. Per'anai fixes Mey'Luskar with her gaze.

Dauk and Blue Yangae D start checking out the yellow-marked Yangae again. Constable Pal'dun heaves a heavy sigh of rapture and turns to examine Mek. As he does so, Dusker says, "Hey there, I'd like my hands and legs unhooked, if you don't mind." When Pal'dun only glances at him warily, he adds, "They're probably going to need my help shutting everything down!" Pal'dun then looks over at Betham, who answers with a grim gesture of affirmative.

"Alright," says Pal'dun as he stoops to unlock Dusker's restraints. "Don't do anything stupid!"

"Too late for that," retorts Dusker darkly.

"The enemy is gone," croons Wari from her sofa.

"Yeah," concurs Pru, probing around with her ring. "Nothing! Nothing at all! They're all clean!"

Per'anai gestures affirmative Yangae style and says, "The power of the Rune has been broken for now. Everyone poisoned by it has been freed."

"Um...for now?" echoes Pru, her eyebrows quickly drooping.

"The enemy's presence here was only an extension of itself, thank the Entity," explains the priestess. "But the fact that it could do these things means one of two possibilities. Either it has a primary host somewhere here in Mul'ein, or..."

"I won't ask," says Pru.

"You don't need to," says Detective Gar'en. "Honored Teacher, do you honestly believe the Atlanzi is here in person?"

"Atlanzi?" echoes Dauk. "Is that...?"

"No," replies Per'anai, "I do not. If it were, the Sentinel would respond to it directly, and woe would be to all of us!"

"What the skaz is an 'Atlanzi'?" demands Blue Yangae D.

"A good reason to panic," replies Dauk. "I don't like the sound of that 'Sentinel' she mentioned, either." Then he says in a louder voice, "If you'll excuse me! I know this is probably a witch thing and a whole lot bigger than I am, but I'd really like to know what's going on!"

Per'anai studies him for a few seconds and then replies, "This is not a 'witch thing'. It involves you a lot more than you think, or at least it should. The greatest danger is to the children of Foldorius!"

How Many Dilemmas?

Constable B-1, whose nameplate reads "Pal'dun", responds to Zeton's inquiries by saying a polite, "One moment, please," over his wrist scanner. Then he cries, "This one is flatlined!"

"Br'am, too," reports Patrolman 2. "We need Geishana here!"

"We could use them, too," says Blue Yangae A as his fellows tend to their yellow-marked comrades.

"Right," says Betham. He starts to raise his wrister, but he's interrupted by a cry from Detective Gar'en.

"Negative! We're still in a danger zone!"

"What do you mean?" demands Betham.

"Probably this!" cries Constable B-3 from his position at the main entrance. Holding the door open, he gestures outside.

Just beyond the door there lies what is probably Blue Yangae E, or what's left of him anyway. His armor is all but flattened, and he is surrounded by a puddle of what appears to be his own bodily fluids. The noisome goo has a strange, viscous quality as if it were liquid mercury.

Constable B-3 pulls a flyer from a bulletin board next to the door, crumples it up, and tosses it outside. As soon as it crosses the threshold, the paper suddenly drops to the floor as if pulled by a great magnet and flattens with a surprisingly large thud.

"Stasis zone!" says Blue Yangae A. "Or grav. Are all the entrances blocked?"

"No," replies Detective Gar'en, "just that one. The others are clear."

"No..." moans Dusker. He looks at Mon'Fargret. "The guards!"

"Patrolman Bel'in!" says Detective 2, pointing at the door next to the stage. "I-I think he's still..."

"Flames," mutters Betham, and he activates his wrister. "Bel'in! Patrolman Bel'in! Report!" He looks at the door, clearly raising his psy senses. "This is Betham! Put your spirit back on its hook! Report!"

The wrister beeps. "Um...sir...I-I'm sorry! I..."

"Bel'in, you flaming, weak-spined excuse for a putz! Running out on us when you're needed?"

"I just...Br'am..."

"Get your stinking carcass back here three minutes ago!"

"Yes, sir! I-I'm sorry, sir! I...AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!"

From the wrister comes the sounds of a struggle. A rather brief struggle. It ends with a sickening snap followed by a crash. Then there is only silence.

"The guards have us in their power," says Dusker.

"Patr'im," says Betham anxiously into his wrister. "Report! The guards! Are they still in your custody?"

Silence.

"We can't get out," says Dusker.