The Fission Seer - Chapter 3 - Part 5

She was the most beautiful gal I ever seen, even from behind the bandages. Hazel eyes, light blue tint skin, fiery orange hair tied into pony-tail. I must be in some kind of heaven. She was meticulous and gentle. She removed a small pouch from her messenger bag and drew out a long tube from it as drawing thread from a silk spool. She must been a professional seamstress or artisan. She inserted it through the bandages and said,"This patch will pump and recycle curing fluid to your skull. Do not touch it for 3 days so it can heal to your cranium profile."

"Okay Madam... No problem."

"It's Louise." She smiled and left. Now that was breath-taking. Then I saw my old friend Malcolm. It just keeps getting better and better.

"Say Malcolm. Are we in some kind of an after-life zone? I heard from various mythologies that describe it to be a place of bliss. I didn't know we actually got here."

"No. Mr Davis. Both of us are still very much alive. By now the effects of the cellular surge to your marrow will wear off."

He snapped his fingers to my ears. I was suddenly in the midst of smoke and broken metal. There was a row of wounded lined up beside me. A newscaster, a camera man and a security guard. There was also a stranger in pyjamas. All of us have head bandages with healing patches strapped to our bodies.

"Welcome back Mr Davis. We have heck lot of a mess to clean up."

The taxi was smoldering as a crane lifted it out from the cavity in the building. The cabby boy knelt on the street devastated, being comforted only by the indefatigable livewire, Miss Cordelia. I did not really feel sorry for him. There will be whole a slew legal issues to be ironed out once I am out of these bandages. All these things will only slow me down. There was a deep sinking feeling. About this city. Corderlia. Malcolm. The cabby boy. The CEO of the newsbuilding. The fallen tower. Something I dread dawned upon me. I must get out fast. And it's best if Malcolm was not looking.

"A penny for your thoughts old friend?"

I pretended I was in pain and directed my gaze elsewhere so he could not read my eye.

"Urrgg! Malcolm! Is there a professional institution here? I think I need better medical attention... My head... is spinning."

"Then you have already come to the right place. Vincent. Can you help me with this patient?"

"No problem." Another man walked over. He had light orange skin, dark blue pupils and a mixed locks of white and grey hair. He was in a medic jump-suit.

"Malcolm... Who's this guy? Is this a circus?"

"No. He's a first generation Serviant. Partly machine, but fully human and fully sane."

The stranger propped me up and brought out a pistol-syringe.

"Sorry Mister. There aren't treatment centres here. Only mobile hospitals. I will send you off to dreamland and run another scan of your skull." He pressed the non-intrusive syringe to my right arm and injected. I have never received a nano-inoculation before. But I know it can mess around with how you see things. I began to see my world in quadraple. And the image colour channel was tuned into red.

"I am still dreaming right Malcolm... the whole - bunch of you..." I faded out.

Malcolm turned his attention away from Laurent as Vincent placed him on a wheelchair and pushed him up into a large white truck parked nearby. He strolled towards a dazed Jerrod who was still looking at place where the tower was once perched.

"It's finally gone. My twenty years. They won't be coming back."

"Well. Don't give up hope just yet." He took the pen out of his pocket and handed it back to Jerrod.

"All dreams can come to an end. What matters is that you're safe and you can start writing a brand new story."

"Thank you Mr Eddings."

"Keep this well. Never lose it again."

"Can you help this boy too?" There was a girl behind Jerrod. She was in a tattered blue dress with scruffy hair. The cabby boy was behind her cowering and fearful.

"You are the Master Seer Mr Davis was talking about. He said you can build a city in hours. Can you fix his car?"

"Sure." He looked into her eyes and said, "You're Cordelia. Princess of Heraldsia. I heard of the place you came from."

"I know. But please help this boy. He hasn't been paid since we got here and he lost his car."
He came over and knelt beside the boy.

"What's your name young man?"

"Rollie. Rollie Hawkins." He retreated further behind Cordelia. "Are you still one of them, Sir? One of those from the Association?"

"No. They had robbed and taken everything from me. I see a lot clearer now and I don't throw in my lot with them. You're in good hands." He motioned to Louise who had just returned from tending the wounded.

"Louise. See to it that Rollie's car fixed and his company is notified of the damages."

"Alright Doctor." She was strucked by Cordelia's appearance and stopped. "Why are you dressed like this?"

"My client said I couldn't buy essentials till we made our first dollars."

"He is a buffoon. Come with me. I will get you cleaned up and looking as good you should."
Cordelia turned to follow after Louise but an alarming revelation shot through her mind. And she spun and broke out.

"Mr Eddings. If you've lost your powers. Who can help fix my country?!"

"I must say I can't, your majesty. But your client can."

The Fission Seer - Chapter 3 - Part 4B

People down below finally caught sight of the tower breaking apart and ran out to the streets to watch the rescue. What a bad fielding day. There were many things Malcolm couldn't do without his powers. Some mid-air engineering feats would have fixed the problem in minutes. But now he was just barely hanging on. The news crew, haggard and dazed had made it downstairs. The elevator must have broke down.

The brakes were out and so was the floor panel beneath me. The steering wheel was aglow in yellow. My feet charged with fission particles were the only friction that kept us from slipping off. A piece of debris came down at us. I called kids to duck just in time before it took the roof of the taxi off. The kids were as pale as ghosts. And the tower will not hold for long. Then I slipped and hung only by my hands on the wheel. The tower segment below us finally loosen itself from the news building, plunging down to the streets and taking us with it.

The strain was too great for me. My instrument on the dashboard  sputtered and popped to pieces like corn kernel. We were in freefall. No instrument. No rescue. This was our end. Big time. I remembered graduation day. Malcolm presenting me a departure gift. It was his conductor's  baton, broken in half. "Now this is the last lesson. Fix this up and send it back to me. Do it before my time on this planet ends," He said. I went away and never came back till this unfortunate day. So - all this while when I was out there Malcolm ran his business without ever using his stylus. And that means - I don't need really need my stylus at all.   

I clenched my fists tighter over the wheel and concentrated. I felt the engine, the drive train and through to the tyres and the sprockets. The kids will have noticed that I had arrested our fall and the fission cinders emanated out from the doors and seats. The engine roared back to life. I kicked out the right door and we raced straight up the tower. We flew over gap to the next segment of the tower where we crashed on landing. I urged the vehicle on by charging and running like Fred Flintstone. I straighten the car and kept up our flight. The lift shaft was in sight and so was Malcolm.

Another hulk of metal stood in our way. I formed  a pile driver from another mess of metal and cables above it and hammered it down out of our way. Wow! I never knew I was capable of something like this. I ran, jumped and soared  over the debris like a lion dancer. With one hand on the steering wheel I used the other to pull in more debris, warped the gathered items into a giant tow hook and slammed it onto the bonnet. I fused them both together instantly. Then, I accelerated down onto my prize.

Malcolm saw me. I grabbed his hand and pulled him in. The hook catches hold of the lift and tears it free from the shaft. The fourteenth floor window came into view. We smashed through it to safety. A second bang told me Jerrod's lift also went through the window on the floor below. We broke through a wall. A stunned man in pyjamas dove out of the way. Everything was fine except for the ceiling pipe which came into view as my powers extinguished. There was a thud, a world of pain and then darkness.

The Fission Seer - Chapter 3 - Part 4A

I watched from below. The secure joints of the tower will still hold for another 4 minutes. They will be down in three. But there were still too many vibrations going on. And it was not from the tower. Cordy was tugging my shoulder asking if I could compensate the cabby boy to show him her benovelence. There was a loud crackle like thunder and a plume of concrete dust bursting out from the other side of the building. I saw a long 30 foot metal girder slide out and plunge 20 storey down to the road. The tower began to break free of the building. Not even his fine-core nano steel can save the day.

I got down from the perch at the car door and turned the engine back on.

"Strap up kids! We're gonna ride up there and pick a few passengers."

The cabby boy was stunned. "Oh no... Please Sir. Not agaaaaain!!!!!!" I barreled the vehicle straight at the wall of abandoned building where other half of the tower rested. As it's fire-escape stairway came into view. I stretched my right hand and ignited my instrument.

I popped off all of it fixtures to wall and made the zig-zag stairway tumble down to us. I found an old fuel cell service station and yanked out it's power drum letting it roll. A half-ton metal cylinder coming in from behind. It crashed into back of the taxi pushing us forward, but I have gotten hold of it. I flooded the back of the cab with fission cinders. I peeled off the outer coverings of the drum, leaving it's enormous spokes. I mounted the drum onto the car's spare to the back. I re-rerouted power directly from front engine, then formed the spokes into a turbofan.

A red button appeared at the centre of my steering wheel. I punched it and we flew foward at the speed of sound. The vehicle mounted the first set of stairs. I focused hard at the falling segments of stairs flattening them out to form a snake and ladder ride of sorts, but we were travelling up not down. I calculated the tragectory needed to intercept Malcolm and the jumper and on the last 2 segments over-clocked my instrument into afterburn. There was a scorching sensation on my hand. We went into a round-about and finally launched off the end of the line into air.

The tower was breaking apart in descent heading straight down towards us. The kids screamed again. "Hang on!" I screamed and turned the steering wheel sharply. I pulled up and banked the turbofan thruster at 45 degrees to do mid-air somersault clearing us of the tower and setting us right on top of it. I detached the turbofan as it succumbed to the rain of rusted steel debris and flamed out. We landed on the tower with a smash. I spotted Malcolm at the mid-section of the tower and put my foot down to the accelerator pedal. It was gone. My foot touched air.

Now, Malcolm had to climb higher. The lower half was going down fast. Things have never been the same since he stopped using his powers. But he saw it all coming. They can take away your powers. They can blow you out of your house, but they have forgotten that Fission sight was only a tool. It's the welder who was the key and the Galdanians never realised it. Malcolm put his hand to a bar to sense the remaining structural integrity. They were now in the middle of a teetering bridge that was collapsing on them from 2 ways. The only option now was to go down. And go down properly.

"Okay Jerrod. We'll have to ride this place down in the elevator! I will open the door and you get in first!"

Jerrod nodded. And Malcolm pulled 2 cables and secured them. One to the old fire-hydrant and the other onto a defunct gas pipe of the lift shaft. This momentarily arrested the buckling. Then, he kicked the elevator grille. Once. Twice. Three times. The lock gave way and Malcolm held it open for Jerrod to get in. At this juncture, the shaft lurched downwards. Malcolm slipped and hung on by his arms. Jerrod reached out to hold him.

The Fission Seer - Chapter 3 - Part 3

The lattice tower was falling apart at many places. Malcolm leapt and swung around the criss-crossing steel bars. At this rate, this bridge will fall to pieces in 30 minutes. Malcolm reached out his right hand to ignite his own stylus but hesitated. Instead, he pull some steel wires from his coat and focused his attention on the lattice bars ahead.

In his vision, the chain of bars unfurled into a concentric stairway. He looked up and tapped lightly on the handrail and released into the white space around the stairway bolts and fasteners. He touched one of screws and it produced in bold letters, the manufacturer's name, date and composition integrity. He looked up once more and there was above a display of signages moving and indicating the "High Integrity" and safe areas of the way ahead.

Malcolm withdrew from the vision and pressed onward across the fallen tower. Turning to the nearest intersection of bars, he tied his steel cables to secure his way. Soon, he formed a network of wires tightening down the key cross-sections he passed.

I was not the least bit satisfied with this gesture. As I struggled with shuddering vehicle to drive it straight, I could only wonder just why wasn't he using any of his powers. Where was his stylus? The conductor's baton. The factory we had been to hours earlier had a conductor's dome which was the place where he showed me how to construct a jet from thin air with nothing more than metal ore, latex and paint powder sprayed from nozzles built into the ground. He would draw out the airframe, pitched it in mid-air and grow wires directly across the skeleton fuselage.

Then, he willl turn and bow and continue to play. Like throwing a volleyball into the air, he will fling his right hand upwards to turn on all nozzles to spray the ore powder at full jets. He conducts the final symphony with powerful strokes and flourishes catching every particle in the air. Sheets of metal appear with lines of running over their surfaces. They bend according to the angled measurements and form into the sheet casings. Cool cinders fill the room and disappear and the parts descend from the roof above us and rest over the fuselage. The bolts floated to the exact designations and secured the sheets to form a completed plane. He would let it down slowly till it sat safely on the floor of the dome. Then, he would ask me for an applause, which I obliged happily.

The dome which we visited was now manufacturing Chicago Typewriters for Albernia and Gulran. And the assembly and roll-out domes were abandoned. People have lost their jobs. It was unlike Malcolm to walk away from all these, unless he had lost his mind somewhere along the way. And I fear somehow he just did.

Malcolm reached the top edge of the tower. He sees the lone man in a blue suit sitting at the edge of the satellite dish. He wrote his final message into the air in glowing cursive letters, saved the message into his pen and hurled it down into the edge. Malcolm changed his accent and put up mock police name tag on his shoulder pocket.

"What are the chances of anyone picking up your message from down below?!"

The man startled and turned to him.

"Have you come to arrest me?"

"No. Not today. I was just thinking about the story you just threw down there. Must have been quite a shame."

"No. Detective. It wasn't a shame. Before I jump you should know that was 27 years of my life down there. Someone's gonna pick it up and read it. And know just how great it was."

"You think so? Do you see anyone down there stopping and having a look?"

He looked down and said, "No."

"Then, look at me and tell me just why would anyone else bother about what you've got to say? Why should my chief give me another minute with you when there are 2 jumpers on my schedule?"

He looked at Mal who read his past through his eyes. He was startled by what he saw but kept his cool.

"Because I built this tower! And worked up the company to be CEO! I did it all from scratch! You've no right to say that it was all for nothing!"

"Well. The police case files say a lot about what you did. I am sure not even the security guard who showed me up here knows that he has already lost his job."

"Wait a minute. I've never told anyone about that." Then he looked a little closer at the man in the coat.

"Hey. I know you! You're Malcolm Eddings! The celebrtiy guru of Breaking News! "

Malcolm at last breathed a sign of relief and dropped off his accent.

"That's right. Malcolm Eddings at your service. Come on down here so we can fix your problem."

"No! I am in this fix because of some small-time FS who claimed that Miners Initiative in Gulran would make me a trillion. He had some fanciful simulation skills, a rosy forecast and some fail-proof plan for market domination in the High North."

Malcolm caught hold of the hint which pointed some energetic young wannabe he once knew some years ago. Someone he had spent time training in the symphony hall. He almost did a face-palm in knowing that his apperentice was once again up to mischief. The dramatic exchange sent ripples through the tower that made the rusting structure groan. Malcolm heard and pressed in for the rescue.

"Look Jerrod, we all have problems. You must have read about mine. If you don't care for anyone else, then just focus on prospects of your untimely end. You will go down in this ship, and people are gonna be sad for a while. Then, they'll just get up and get on with their lives. And your story will end right here at this tower. What's your choice?"

"I want to go back to the time before I screwed up." He croaked.

"Then, come on down here. I will help you fix things." Jerrod relented and climbed down from the dish towards Malcolm. The steel wires tighten and strained as Malcolm began to feel more vibrations pulsating through the structure. "We better get off this wreck right now." He urged Jerrod as they clambered back down towards the Acadia New Building.

The Fission Seer - Chapter 3 - Part 2

The factory was not closed, but bore the marks of past glory. Only a third of the factory was operational and outside Replicator manufacturing units all masked with the familiar orange tape and black words, "Under Embargo." A couple of large holes were visible in the areas abandoned, signs of some kind of trouble.

The visitor's booth manager with a bushy moustached and a straw hat looked at me and said, "We are now a type-writer factory. The CEO has sold the business to small-time contractors like us."

Now this was not possible. Even if Malcolm was closed for whatever reason. He would always moved onto something better.

I asked, "Did he moved onto something else? And dId he say where he was going?"

"Well. It's a pity that the good old grid is down. But you have come to the right place. I know exactly what he has been up to and I will do the honour of showing him to you."

He vanished behind the counter and brought up an improvised television box.

"Pardon me. But those thugs from Galdania are trying to shut our city down. This is how we keep in touch and get entertained. Let me find the news channel." He turned the knob.

This was horrendous. I never knew that even Acadia could fall into such a state. It was literally the stone age. I peered nervously at the static to see what other shocking truths I might find.

"Malcolm Eddings, celebtrity negotiator rides again!" The set boomed.

A tall lady with a long white dress with an overlay of chiseled black flower patterns and short finger wave dark hair asked the stranger off-screen.

"Malcolm Eddings. Many have said that Seers cannot be trusted, but you have proven yourself otherwise. And many of us are also tired with the word 'Controversy.' Do you anything to say about meteoric rise to good repute?"

Then came the familiar sharp anwers.

"I have nothing to prove to you or anyone, Miss Sanders. What I am bringing to the table is a whole new way of solving problems by getting to the root cause, past bureaucracy and past the cost constraint assumptions that so governs every facet of our community today."

I finally noticed Cordy waving at my face for attention.

"Lauren? Is this your friend? Malcolm Eddings? The Master Craftsman?"

Eyes opened, jaw dropped, my mind blanked. I answered her. "Yeah... He is my friend."

The man on screen continued.

"I believe all of us should get out there. Start a business. Help people. Solve problems. And be the heroes we need in the streets. If you're not able to do it on your own. Give me a call at 500-9-OL-44. My advisers will be ready to help you with your plan of initiative. And make good on it."

"So, is there anything else you can tell us about your business model? You say what you're doing within - the reach - of... Security. We are in a middle of a shoot!" The anchor asked, but stopped, distracted by something in front of her.

A voice called out. "It's Jerrod. He's outside on the tower and he's going to jump."

Malcolm shot to his feet and asked, "Where's the tower?!"

"23 floors upstairs. At the broken antennae relay. Nobody goes there!"

"Well. Take me there. We'll climb the stairs if we have to but take me there!"

Miss Sanders turned back to camera and finished the interview. "And that was Celebrity Negotiator Malcolm Eddings making good on his promises. Stay tune to the rescue attempt, live on Acadia Daily."

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We left factory as soon as we could and hailed a taxi. There taxi swung left to right through the traffic not because we paid more money, but I was at the wheel and Cordy and the driver were my passengers.

I clarified with the cabby boy, "You say the Acadia News Tower is 3 blocks right from Canal Street?!"

"Yes. Sir - P...p... please drive carefully." He muttered.

I looked up and found we were going to be sandwiched between two trams from opposite directions. Cordy and the boy screamed.

"Hold your breath!" I cried and held mine. I fired up my instrument and pound my fist onto the dashboard. At once, a flood of yellow fission cinders from my hand engulfed vehicle interior. I went deaf for a moment as I rubberised everything into the properties of a giant soccer ball.

The trams hit and launched us skyhigh. We could have screamed, but we were already rubberised. And I could feel nothing as we were pin-balled between the buildings among scattering pedestrains and dodging vehicles. The vehicle finally got into a steady bounce and the power effect expired. I came to my senses and caught my breath on the last bounce and the vehicle continued rolling onward.

"Anything broken!" I turned and asked. And I saw the children white-face, shaking their heads. "Great!" But he vehicle shuddered in protest and broke over with dents and scratches and began spewing white smoke. "Woe! Spoke too soon!"

I saw the tower of the news building. Judging from it appearance, it already came down for a year. There was indeed some serious issues when no one fixes the only lifeline of a city. The highest point of the radio tower rested on the top of another skyscraper. And I squinted closely enough to see a tiny Mal balancing his way across the beams to get to a lone figure sitting on a satellite dish.

The Fission Seer - Chapter 3 - Part 1

Acadia was an old greying white city. It was a Franco-Dutch colonial platform, an artificial self-renewing city that can be programmed to grow livable structures of any era. The pioneers of Acadia chose New Orleans as their based model. Everything will resemble the city except for the underlying technology which had remain in the stagnant years of the late twenty-second century. A web of arches that grow from the top to touch the bottom. From there rested the foundation of every building. We were in the middle of Canal Street at a payphone. An electric tram rattled past us packed with commuters.

I was trying to connect using an operator. The broadcast provider had been shut down due to penalties imposed. Relay towers orange-taped with the words "Under Embargo" are still visible on the skyline. I acquired the address of Malcolm's factory and updated Cordy of our next itinerary to which she asked.

"Why can't you dial him telepathically?"

"With due respect princess, I only do thought reading by eye. I can't mind talk. It's just a myth."

"My grandpa used to say that you can signal one another from mountains and ridges and always appear at the right place at the right time. Can you do that?"

"I can. By eye, lots of hardwork, some climbing gear, radio and my loudhailer. When we do it fast enough, it does look like magic."

"So where are your friends?"

"They're gone. We went our seperate ways far away from one another. Times are bad and the last thing we want to do is turn on each other."

"Why?"

"Because I know I can."

"You're not all that bad. Why did you lie about the bag of money?"

"If you haven't notice, the colour of the moon was blue a couple of hours ago. It won't be blue again for sometime to come."

"Thanks for saving me."

"I was just trying. Now stop being sentimental or I will charge you for it."

"Guess I will have to wait for the next moon."

"You can bet on it. Now follow me." I hailed the tram and we climbed onboard. "We are heading to Malcolm's. He's my mentor and he can help us with the machines we need to rebuild your city."

We found seats and sat down. Cordy peered out window at other passing trams and improvised Model Ts. Bicycles and pedestrians stopped to make way for our passage. The thing was that all vehicles were electrically powered, another legacy of the sustainability revolution of the late 22nd Century. The occupants of the Roaring 20s would have been astounded by the nano-tech that had gone into every part of this city. But times were serious and this city had ceased to stand on its feet for the past hundred years.

"Does he have a big factory in this city?" She peered out the window.

"He used to. And he has the tools I need to build them for you. I will have to get them from him."

"What did he do for you?" She turned and faced me.

"He found me in the streets of Sevastopol out cold in the middle of a mob. He picked me up and fixed me. I got apprenticeship until I was ready start again. He's one heck of an exception. Last seer on this planet I will ever trust."

"Is he a real wizard?" She ventured again. My indignation rose, but for sake of the money. I responded professionally.

"No, your majesty. I don't think I have ever seen a real wizard before. I believe you should think of him as only a master craftsman. Allow me to illustrate."

Here it comes, basic customer education uploading in progress. I formed up my stylus and drew a solid line across the her lap in thin air. A miniature tram folded out along the line and chugged forward.

"Let's say if our tram broke down."

I touched it on the roof and one of it wheels came off and the tiny tram skidded off the track and the drive-train detached from the car.

"My stylus can help you fix this tram within 30 minutes."

A small wave of hatched light field swept over the tiny smoking wreck and the parts bounced up from the ground as if having a life of it's own. The drive train and the wheel glued themselves back onto the carriage and it's trolley pole straighten. A small burst of sparks from the antennaes signaled all is well with the tiny tram and it rushed towards the end of the line where it extinguished back into micro cinders of carbon particles. Cordy tried to catch it but it was gone.

"However." I wiped the line away with my other hand.

"In this same time, he is able to put up 8 city blocks, with power, running water and transportation."

For this, I used both my hands for the demo. I threw open my left hand and spread out a net of pipes and girders each one named and numbered. I closed my right hand pulled it in the other direction and from it appear of series of strings which shot from the foundation towards my right hand followed it. A piece of ground rolled over the pipes. The girders stood up and 8 buildings were raised from the ground like a pop-up book. More tiny trams plied the streets on the model ringing their bells to clear the crowds. It was a self-contained midget metropolis.

"This is really very cute!"

"Bingo!" I thought.

She caught herself, "I mean - this must be an impressive work of a master craftsman."

"That's right, your majesty. That's who we'll be seeing."

The Fission Seer - Chapter 2 - Part 2

Aldon removed his mask and Czapka and fixed them on the steel mount of his royal quarters. Above him was the Galdanian Standard, a sea serpent coiled around a faichon. The walls covered by a network of hatched stones. There was no bed. But soon enough, a flat metal serpent slithered to his side and opened up for him to sit down. Aldon's skin had tint of blue and he had long yellow brows and dreadlocked hair and a bald forehead. The tints were the latest cosmetic enhancements produced from mineral deposits harvested from the former icy region of the North Pole. Now, it was a sea of trade, the new fertile crescent, inhabited by the last of human civilisation.

He let himself fall onto the mouth of the serpent that caressed him and rose to ceiling of the room. The creature flexed and it sends great ripples through the wall of metal. Parts of the hatched walls begun to interlock, spin and seperate. The room soon formed into the replica of the same sphere of council chamber. The flags of the colonies extended from all the walls in circular glowing time pieces which stated their percentage of Ore extracts, population, raw materials and economic climate.

Pulling Deruwan's and Krosia's discs towards himself from of the wall. He punctured Deruwan's disc. It seperated into concentric coloured tiers showing it's weak population, resource and economic readings. And there was the tantilising purple ring which stated "Ore Valuation at 800%". He immediately drew up Albernia and Gulren time-pieces which were connected to Deruwan by a blue trail of light. He turned their discs in opposite directions and Deruwan's time piece began to scatter to the point of disintergration.

"Still toying the fate of unfortunate nations?" It was the same hollow voice of the hooded seer.

"I am just bending the rules in my favour. It is after all my symphony. I can decide just how the story goes."

The figure drew back the hood and removed her mask. A young woman with light orange tinted skin and purple-white streaks of hair.

"You didn't build the system. Our Commissar did. You only ensured that the colonies complied with its standards."

"Quosalis was a traitor. History will soon forget him for his crimes. I am the one who has brought this system to its full glory. And made all this - more profitable."

"By the Embargo proposal?"

"By consolidation, Gnesedia. To ensure that Galdania exercises it's full rights as the League's leadership so it gains what it deserves.Technology should always remain in the hands of the priviledged who know how to use it and realise its full potential. Deprivation of it to the inept is a strong measure to discourage abuse."

"And what if history doesn't forget."

"Gnesedia, I don't have time for riddles. What's your business today?"

"There was a fission signature near the camps of Psoriya yesterday. It belongs to an old friend of yours. A small-time nuisance by the name of Lauren Davis."

"Send a few deputies to deal with him. This upstart must be made to understand he's not recieving back his assets or his membership."

"The source of the Ore Ignition was from that man."

Aldon stopped his work and brought the serpent down to her.

"Gnesedia. Between the six of us including Quosalis. No other seer knows how to ignite the Ore."

"Perhaps someone had liberated the knowledge of the Ore from Atlas and sold it in the market. Or perhaps, the Commissar we know might be still be alive after all."

She said it with a sense of wonder and that infuriated Aldon. He glared at her.

"Are you saying that the work I did wasn't thorough enough?"

"I am saying that our Commisar will soon plot his return. I suggest that you start becoming more interested in your security than your obsession with Ore. I have sent the deputy in-charge of the last job. Please learn to treat your kind with a little more respect."

"My apologies Gnesedia. Proceed with the execution. I will monitor the events from here."

"Sleep tight. Commissar Aldon."

Aldon watched Gnesedia leave the cavern of time-pieces. Then, he rose from his seat and banged his fists on the arm rests.

"I have always been right about you. You can change your looks but you will never change who you truly are. We shall meet again. You can be certain of that my old friend - Commissar Quosalis. "

And before him on a circular screen was Lauren happily shaking hands with Cordy as they confirmed their deal for Heraldnesia.

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The day was just amazing. Stocks rose for the first time in a year for Deruwan and for Albernia and Gulran. I was also making a killing with the sale of re-packed food on the streets of Acadia. I turned up my megaphone and sifted the crowd.

"Hey, mister. You with the hobble. It seems like you can use a meal. Hey, busy person riding the bike.You're gonna collapse in 5 minutes and still won't get to where you want. Forget the schedule and come fill your stomach. And you, Miss Wanna-be-on-top-of-things. Look no further. Here is the lunch you need for yourself and your entire office. Come on over!"

The customers plodded over mechanically, one after another, bought their food and left. Cordy was not please. She binned the ladle into the boiling pot and removed her apron.

"This is a robbery. In daylight. You read their minds and sell them things!" She protested.

"I am just improvising kid. Remember, this pays for our accommodations uptown. We'll leave as soon we find my friend, Malcolm. Excuse me for second. Thank you so very much for your support Madam. Have an excellent day."

Cordy honoured our agreement and forced herself to smile until the old lady was out of sight.

"You should have at least gave them a choice!"

"No one plays fair in my kind of business." I tried to enlighten her. "You gotta make use all chances and take the biggest chunk of the pie. A chance like this may never come again." I took a sandwich which I was having and bit off a huge mouthful of it to prove my point.

She was absolutely disgusted.

"I am going back to the motel. You can stay here all afternoon and keep selling them these second grade surplus food. I will have no part in this!"

Before I could make my defense, she grabbed her bag and stomped off toward the crowd. But, she stopped abruptly in front of the wall of people, unsure of how to make her way. Just as I thought, she was just a country kid. Now, all I need to do was to just talk her back into our agreement. One thing's for sure, I will never be the only one here doing all the work.

Then, a set of arms emerged from the crowd shoved her the ground. Now, that was uncalled for. I ran and helped her up. There were suddenly twenty odd burly men standing around us with wooden sticks. They were in grey cotton shirts, slacks with shades of black and brown and wearing driving caps and straw hats. This did not look good.

The foreguy loomed over me and said, "We heard that there was a new seer in town. And so we came down here to have a look."

"You're looking at one. Is there anything we can do for you?" I answered.

He extended his stick and pushed the lunch cartons, letting them tumble down into the soup pot.

"Nothing. We just feel you should know that seers are not welcome in this city."

I considered stuffing them in trash bins and launching each one 30 feet into the windows above us, but there were too many of them and they standing too close. I can't use my powers. These guys know who they were dealing with.

I tried diplomacy. "Woe there. This must some kind of mistake. I was thinking of paying you guys a visit this evening and talk about how we can share profit on your turf."

The man nearest to the leader leaned over to him and accused me, "He's lying Boss. I can sense it."

"No, you can't. You're not a seer and I am not lying." I defended. "Let's be cool. We're just here for 3 days and we're gone. I can give you a 70% cut of my profits. I am sure you won't be able to get this kind of money anywhere else."

"Sorry. But this deal's still a little short. I expect a 110%. Like the way you charge your clients in the bigger cities."

"Look, I've just opened for business today. Give me a little more time and you will your money by sundown."

He grinned and said "Not fast enough. I want it now. Boys, bring this place down."

Two men came from behind me, wrenched my arms with the sticks and threw me down on my face. The boss stepped on my face. I clenched my teeth so my jaw will not fall off. The rest of the mob fell on our store. They crumpled and crushed everything they found. The soup, chopsticks and cartons were scattered. The gang seized our afternoon's worth of paper credit and handed it to the leader.

"Where's the rest of it?"

"That's all there is. Can we go now..." I struggled to reply.

Number Two returned holding a money bag with Cordy hanging onto it with both hands.

"Boss! Look at this!" He tried to shake her off, but Cordy held on fast. He handed the bag over.

"Let go off my money." Cordelia hissed.

"It's no longer yours little lady. This bag of money is gonna feed us a month."

I turned my neck enough to meet his eyes of the man stepping on my jaw. I unravelled his thoughts. I saw him and his gang among the strongest of syndicates in Acadia. I threw my sight further at him departing from the gates of Malcolm's Corporation. And him, rallying other desperate and jobless individuals to take matters into their own hands. There was much anger. And a reign of terror in the streets soon followed.

I pleaded, "Whatever happened to you at Malcolm's was not my fault. If it's about my kind, I am sorry. You don't have to do this to us."

"That job, Mr Seer, was my life. My boys here also wanted it all simple. But you and your friends at the casino decided to take it out on one another with our stakes. Now, I do really want to show you how all this feels."

He turned to the bag he was holding with one arm. "Let go the bag, kid. Or I'll have to punch you."

"I am Princess Cordelia of Glender! I am not a kid! And how dare you seize hold of my property?!"

This was getting really ugly. I shouted just before he could throw a punch.

"A hundred million dollars! It's all in the bag! Take it! It's yours!"

"But..." Cordy was stunned. This was not me and she's right. I didn't know why I did it either.

"Let the bag go Cordy! We can always make money elsewhere." She relented, released her and fell to her knees.

"That's right." He lifted the boot from my face. "You two should make your money elsewhere."

He opened the bag, dipped his hand in expecting stacks of notes, instead scooped out a handful purple crystals which he promptly showed to me.

"This ain't money! What is this stuff?!"

"This is your free ride to the mountains outside this city. "

I threw my thoughts onto the Ore and a surge of candy and confetti blasted out the boss' hands like a geyser. I sealed the gang into individual 5 stage rockets, whch blasted off the streets and into the sky. If you're standing at the next city block. It will be quite a sight to see twenty rockets with cloud exhaust emissions of the colours of the rainbow leaving the city for the clouds. I could hear the boss scream as he and the mob departed the scene.

"Yeeaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

We will not be seeing them for some time. They will reach the mountains where they will be jettisoned out in parachutes with 30 days of supplies and hiking apparel. I hope these guys will change their minds about their trade when they get back to the city. In a mean time, my friend Malcolm owes me an explanation for the trouble he caused us today. I gave Cordelia her back and helped her back on her feet.