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Sarah looks down at the stone fragments spread carefully on her jacket on the floor of Pat's
office.
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Sarah looks decidedly disturbed at them, and then equally disturbed at Daimon. "Where are you
going, dear?"
Daimon is pulling on his coat in the living room, and checking his cellphone.
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Daimon says "I have to call Terry and make an appointment to see him. Then I have to go to the
bank and make sure we can pay for that condo. Then I have to actually see Terry and see his
video tape and talk business over with him. After that, we'll meet Pat at Sistine's for lunch to talk
about how we're going to take our investigations."
Daimon starts walking out the door.
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Sarah says "I'll give you a ride if we might be able to fit in a stop at the Library on the way."
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Daimon looks at his watch. "We have four and a half hours, and this is things I _have_ to do."
Sarah says "I have a partial translation. I suspect that dropping this off where someone might be
able to get more is also something we _have_ to do. And I don't want either of us out of the
other's sight, particularly."
Sarah makes her jacket and the fragments into a careful bundle again, then stands up.
Daimon sighs. "Okay, well."
Sarah says "Thirty seconds, then."
Daimon yells over his shoulder, "Pat, make lunch at 12:30, not 12."
Pat says "Alright."
Sarah pauses long enough to leave a Xeroxed copy of her recollection of the inscription, and the
original and only copy of her partial translation, and then hurries to join Daimon. With bundle and
paper.
All is quiet and peaceful, outside.
Sepharmouse pokes its head out to look and then curls up again sleepily.
No Calabim. No big guns. And no bananas.
Sarah unlocks her car, checking the back seat.
Sephar whews softly as it curls up again.
The back seat is empty, as it should be.
Daimon fumps into the 90% seat, and pulls out his cellphone.
Sarah gets into the car, eyes the ignition warily, then gives in and starts it. "Where to first?"
Daimon rattles off the name of a bank. "I don't have an appointment, but hopefully they're open
and we should be able to get in. I need to do a big money transfer, and then call that lady with the
crystals and her real estate agent."
Sarah says "I hope no-one's troubled your accounts particularly."
Sarah leaves the car in park but running for a moment, and gets out her map to check routes
quickly while Daimon deals with cellphone.
Daimon says "That's why I have Sephar."
Daimon needs to dial the Cool One of the Media first, to make sure he'll be around.
Sepharmouse nose peeks out on the mention of its name.
Daimon pets Sephar, and dials.
Terry answers after one ring. "Hello, this is the producer for you, baby."
Daimon says "Yeah, Terry, it's Daimon."
Terry says, "Cool, baby! I got a video for you."
Daimon says "I need to talk to you about that and some other things. I really need to hit the bank
first, but can you pen me in for around 10:30 on your busy as hell schedule?"
Terry hms. "Sure, baby. Wanna set a place, or just gonna drop by here?"
Daimon says "I thought I would come by there, seeing as you have much easier access to a VCR
that plays tapes masters in Hell then I at the moment."
Terry considers. "Okay, baby. Just give your name to the receptionist, okay?"
Daimon says "I just want to make sure you're going to be there."
Terry sounds hurt. "Daimie, _baby_, have I ever missed an appointment with you?"
Daimon searches his memory. "There could have been a time, I'm sure, but not in recent memory,
no."
Terry says, "Well, then. I'll be waiting, baby. You'll like this."
Terry says, "Hey, and you bringing that cute redhead with you?"
Daimon says "I'm sure I'll be amused. I'll see you in a few hours, you sexy snake bo- er, no, I'm
bringing Sarah."
Terry sighs melodramatically. "Ah well. See you later, alligator."
Daimon says "Later, baby."
Daimon hangs up the phone.
Sarah keeps the map unfolded long enough to hide the wince.
Sarah then accordions it back, neatly, and pulls out. Off to the bank go we!
The bank is, indeed, open.
Sepharmouse goes, "Whee!" at any appropriate moment on the drive.
Daimon gets out of the car, and waits patiently for Sarah.
Sarah finds a parking place, and feeds meter or attendant or what-have-you.
Sarah then joins Daimon, Hitherbugs, and Sepharmouse.
Sarah keeps a sharp eye out for anyone who appears overly interested in her car, too.
The bank is doing business, nice and briskly. A paean to Trade.
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Daimon enters the bank, and waits to talk to the bank manager.
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The wait to see the bank manager isn't that long. She's a middle-aged woman with greying hair
and a fuss blouse.
Sarah agitates nonetheless - then blinks, and solves the problem by reopening the door, opening
the bundle, attuning to one of the fragments, closing up bundle and car, and hurrying after
Daimon.
Daimon proffers his hand to be shaken. "Hi. My name is Daimon M. Lightner. I've come to move
some money around into your bank and apply for a mortgage on a condominium."
The woman says, "Certainly. My name's Anastasia Kamilsky, and I'm manager of this branch of
the Sloan. I'll be glad to help in any way that we can."
Daimon grins, and allows himself to be ussured into her office. "The transfer is going to be of
about $15,000. Some of this is going to include cashing in several outstanding treasury bonds,
cashing out a CD, and pulling a little from my mutual funds."
The bank manager nods, as if quite used to all this. She puts several intelligent queries, of the sort
which would be asked.
Sarah waits within sight of Daimon, patiently.
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Sepharmouse doesn't really know if it should show itself, so just stays quiet in Daimon's
pocket.
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The bank manager is very agreeable, and the money can be arranged just as Daimon wants it.
Sepharmouse listens and cools quietly as it all happens appropriately.
Daimon hopes that Sephar can sit on the lines and verifies that the money exists, but doesn't
indicate that there is a mouse in his pocket.
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Daimon says "Once I have the money, and you have a good layout of my accounts and what is
left on my mortgage on my condo in California vs. how much equity I can take out of it, I'll be
happy to start filling out the forms for a pre-approval on a mortgage here."
Daimon pulls out the papers on the condo in DC.
The woman checks the papers, and nods. "Excellent. We'll have to check matters, of course, but
there shouldn't be any problems with this, Mr Lightner."
Sephar checks from the pocket.
Daimon nods, and fills out the piles upon piles of forms.
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The woman sits patiently, makes encouraging noises, and helps with the fiddly bits.
Sephar just patiently watches from the 'puter and nestles in the pocket as all this is going on, is
here simply as backup.
Eventually, all the forms are filled in.
Daimon makes some comments, asks plenty of questions, and wonders how he can replace the
money that he's spending here quickly. Ah, that's another point to talk to Terry about.
Sarah patiently paces back and forth, keeping tabs on Daimon and car in turn.
Nobody attempts to assault the car or Daimon, that Sarah can sense.
Daimon so wants a cigarette. He chews a stick of gum, and asks how long it will be until he can
get the mortgage approved.
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The woman says, "We should have it done by Friday, Mr Lightner."
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Daimon nods, "That should be enough time for me to arrange with the seller and go through her
real estate agent, I think. I'll have to call her today and inform her that the papers are in. Thank
you. Thank you very much."
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The woman smiles. "It's a pleasure." She escorts Daimon to the door, and shakes his hand.
Daimon shakes her hand in return, and looks at his watch.
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Daimon says "We have a half hour, Sarah, to get over to the Old Post Office. Do you want to
stop at the Library?"
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Sarah says "I'd like that, yes."
Sarah says "It needn't be long."
Daimon says "Okay," as he slides into the front seat of the car. "That's cool. We'll have about 10
minutes to stop."
The car does not blow up. Nothing bad happens.
Sephar eyes the car.
Daimon is rather surprised, actually.
Sarah slides in on the other side. "Everyone in?" she asks as she fastens her seatbelt; checks for
Kyrios; nods, starts car, and drives.
Sarah drives, thusly, to the Library of Congress.
Daimon smokes a cigarette. Ahhhhhhhhh blessed nicotene. And then another, because he was
starting to get the shakes.
Sepharmouse squeaks, "If you like, I can check the car after every stop or just put part of myself
in it."
The Library is easily reached. It is comfortably busy, given the time of day.
Sarah says "I hope that won't be necessary."
Sepharmouse nods.
Sarah parks, gathers up bundle and paper, and moves as quickly as can politely be managed.
Daimon follows Sarah on in, trying to look inconspicuous.
Hitherby feels ever-so-faintly guilty about losing some of Sarah's notes, back when Sarah was
kidnapped, for some reason.
The Seneschal - an Asian man, one Izboniah by name - is in his office.
Sarah knocks lightly.
The nameplate on the door says, "Jesse Banson."
Izboniah rises as Sarah enters. "My dear Chephirah. What can I do for you?"
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Sarah says, "An apparently hidden inscription was destroyed at the Smithsonian last night. I
caught a glimpse of it beforehand, and managed to salvage some of the remaining fragments." She
half-smiles. "I thought someone might be interested."
Izboniah rubs at his forehead. "And... Daimonique, I believe? Pleased to meet you."
Daimon proffers a hand. "Just Daimon."
Sarah adds, "My apologies for not performing formal introductions."
Sepharmouse peeks out, "And I'm Sephar."
Izboniah shakes the offered hand. "No trouble at all. Hm. May I see these fragments?"
Izboniah says, "Pleased to meet you, Sephar."
Sephar bobs a gentle nod.
Sarah offers the bundle, with exquisite care.
Sarah says "I believe Hitherby is also present, but may not be awake."
Izboniah takes it, equally carefully, and puts it down. "My regards to the Domination, then. Hm.
This may require some careful handling."
Izboniah says, "Perhaps you will tell me more about how you discovered it later, Chephirah?"
Hitherby hums, cheerfully, "I'm reasonably present, but I'm playing hide and seek with myself in
this forest. Er, I mean, Daimon's hair. It's very distracting; I'm a devilishly clever opponent."
Sarah says "Certainly, Most Holy."
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Izboniah chuckles. "Till later, then, my friends." His fingers twitch faintly as he regards the
bundle.
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Daimon bobs his head.
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Sarah lays the paper beside it. "This is my recollection, but it is likely to be inaccurate. I'll give you
a full report when time allows."
Sarah smiles, warm. "Until then."
Izboniah nods, picking the paper up. "I'll have one of our experts look at it."
Sarah says "I hope it proves useful."
Sarah ushers the other three out.
Daimon gets ushered, right back out to the car. For another smoke.
Izboniah says, "May you all journey towards your destinies."
Sepharmouse tucks back into the Pocket and naps quietly.
Outside, the car is _still_ in one piece.
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Daimon climbs into the passanger seat once again.
Sarah drives Daimon off to his next destination, once all leaves are taken and seatbelts
fastened.
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Sepharmouse peeks up and eyes the car carefully, just looking, not possessing it.
The car seems in perfectly good shape, still.
Daimon smokes yet another smoke.
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Soon enough, and just in time for the appointment, you draw up beside the Old Post Office.
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Sarah parks, as per standard.
Miracle of miracles, there is even a parking space.
Daimon is impressed.
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Daimon gets out of the car, once it is stopped, and heads toward the correct door.
Sarah is very impressed. She locks the car and heads hastily after Daimon.
Inside, a girl with neatly styled hair and gaudy nail varnish beams from behind her desk. Cameras
swivel towards the group. "Hello! My name is Benni and I'm your personal Media Assistant for
today!"
Daimon is rather single minded today.
Sephar just hides in the Pocket.
Sarah wishes she had a Pocket to hide in, and merely endures.
Daimon says "Hi Benni. I'm here to see Terry Jackson. I have a 10:30am appointment."
Benni smiles cheerfully. "Just a moment. Please have a seat and sample our latest magazineware!"
She murmurs into her headset.
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Daimon settles down in a chair, picks up a magazine, to see if it's a new one.
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Sarah does not have a seat, nor so much as /touch/ a magazine. She stands close by Daimon.
The magazine is a new one, and has a new photo of Demi Moore on the front, modelling nipple
shields.
Daimon sighs, and flips to see if there are any articles worth reading. At the same time, he slips
on the Scale.
Footsteps can be heard, and then the door opens. Terry is standing there, resplendent in a
MIB-type outfit. He's even wearing mirrorshades, and grinning. There's an attache case under his
arm.
Terry says, "Daimie, _baby_!"
Daimon stands up. "Hiya Terry."
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Terry crooks a finger. "This way, baby. The equipment's _all_ set up. And hi there, honey. You
being Daimie's bodyguard these days?"
Sarah does /not/ cringe. But it takes an effort of will.
Daimon says "Something like that. Look, Terry, I have business concerns to talk to you
about."
Terry says, "You have? Okay, baby, let's head up to my office and you can tell me all about
it."
Terry says, "You, after all, Daimie, you're a girl with _insight_."
Sarah lets Daimon do the talking. Perhaps it's best that Daimon got words out first. She tags along
after Daimon.
Daimon nods, "Okay."
Daimon follows along, looking at the stuff on the walls.
Terry leads the way down the corridor to the nice bright shiny Media Lift. There are many
prize-winning photo reprints on the walls.
Daimon is getting that inner cringing from Capitalizations.
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Terry steps into the lift, and puts his finger on the Doors Open button to keep the doors open.
Daimon follows Terry into the Lift.
Sarah pauses, and puts a hand on Daimon's shoulder. From outside the Lift.
Daimon says "Yeah?"
Terry waits, patiently.
Sarah says "Where precisely is your office, Mr. Jackson?"
Terry says, "Upstairs, baby. Look, Daimie's been there."
Terry says, "The Lightning whizz-mouse, too."
Sepharmouse sighs and pokes its head out and eyes the Lift.
Sarah glances across to Daimon, and pings resonance as she does.
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Daimon says "Terry, are you trying to kill me?"
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Terry says, quite truthfully, "No way, Daimie."
Sarah tugs Daimon back, gently.
Terry half-steps out of the lift. "What is this, kid?"
Daimon looks at Terry, then looks at Sarah. "Fuck this. I'll go get another agent."
Daimon turns and starts walking for the door.
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Terry snorts a breath through his nose, and as Daimon turns, he snaps the attache case open,
tossing it towards Daimon and Sarah. Gas billows out.
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Daimon coughs, falls to his knees, and passes out on the floor.
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Terry walks towards the group, breathing through his nose.
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Sarah tries to shove Daimon down the hall, but collapses nonetheless.
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Sephar does dispossess the mouse, hanging quietly by the bodies.
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Terry's eyes flick to the floating Sephar.
Sephar looks at Terry to see if he's wearing a gas mask.
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Sephar uses remote control to turn off the filters.
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Hitherby Sings Corporeal Form. In the middle of a Media Tether, God help her.
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Hitherby then lifts up and goes for Terry's groin at full-speed charge.
There is a flare of electricity from Terry's nose, and a muffled shriek.
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Terry shrieks again, as the Swarm Of Might collides with his groin, and sends him crashing into
the wall. He squeaks, faintly, "intruder alert."
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There is the sound of running feet, and a couple of the doorways swing open, as six Gasmasked
Goons come tumbling through.
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Sephar *now* uses remote control to stop the pumps on the gasmasks?
One of the Goons is carrying a Big Weird Rifle. It has an odd funnel-like projection at one end,
and a big crystalline thingy at the other.
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Terry's nose is developing severe scorch marks, and he's whimpering as the Kyrio tears at his
trousers.
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Sephar does that, then.
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The Goon with the Gun points it at the swarm of insects buzzing over Terry's pants.
Sephar possesses a gas mask, careful to jump from the nose thing to a mask, then to the next then
to the next then to the next..
Sephar does it to the guy with the gun, first.
Sephar feels for possible Force Traps on the Goons as it possesses the masks.
Hitherby's clever plan is to get in one choice steel-hard sting with the three best-situated insects,
and then scatter as much as she can. (That is to say, take my regular Dodge when this guy fires.
:))
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Terry screams and jerks as the stings go in.
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Hitherby mutters, "Traitor," but she does it in an archaic dialect of dung beetle, so he probably
doesn't understand.
Sarah, doing her part... er, lies on the floor, unconscious.
It becomes clear to the perceptive Sephar that the Weird Gun is some sort of Force Catcher, but
it's projective in form. It looks like it might be Vaputech.
The Goon with the Gun triggers it. There is a melodious clanging sound, as a wide bluish ray of
light flickers out towards where Terry lies and Hitherby swarms.
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Sephar hrms and does Generator *at* the Gun.
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With a dreadful feel of lurching, Hitherby feels herself being drawn ... in. Inwards. Into crystal.
Into a void... (and this gets all 9 Forces of Hitherby, yes).
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Hitherby thunk.
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Sephar throws its six Forces at the Goon with the Gun, then.
Hitherby . o O ( Unfortunately, Terry will not be happy with me. )
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The Goon with the Gun resists.
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The Goon with the Gun looks sharply around the room, eyes narrowed.
Sephar possesse the Goon's gas mask, then and undoes the straps.
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Sephar actually goes into the mask, to be mildly anchored.
Terry clutches at his groin, trying to regain his feet. He waves an abused hand in Sephar's
direction, croaking, "There!"
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The Goon's gasmask comes free. He holds his breath as he points the rifle in the direction of
Sephar, and fires. Blue light flares.
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Terry yells, voice hoarse, "It's in the fucking mask! And someone get the prisoners out!"
The ray blast hits only empty air.
Sephar jumps to the next mask.
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