“Harris,” an irritated voice beeped through the wall intercom, “there is a woman here who says that she needs to see your interviewee. She is babbling on and on about his social media profile or something like that. What do you want me to do?”

“We will be done in half an hour or so,” Harris grumbled, “tell her to wait outside.”

“Sorry about that,” I hid my face in embarrassment, “that must be my agent.”

“The lady that we met when we picked you up at the hospital?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“I see,” she pulled her notepad towards her, “and why is it that you hired an agent while you were at the hospital?” She peered at me suspiciously.

“It’s quite a complicated story, and I would love to tell you about it.” I rocked back and forth in my seat, “but do you remember that coffee?”

“It went right through you, didn’t it?” Harris relaxed her posture and chuckled softly.

“Yeah, would it be possible to take a quick trip to the men’s room?”

“I think we can arrange it,” Harris stood up and knocked on the door. Graham answered, and the two whispered awkwardly back and forth for a moment.

“I see,” he said, “I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Carthage, but our department policy is that I have to accompany you to the restroom. Don’t worry, I don’t have to go inside with you, but I do have to wait outside the door.”

“I can handle that,” I jumped out of my seat, instantly taking some of the pressure on my bladder, “but we have to go quickly, or I am going to explode.”

I rushed out of the room and down the hallway, making sure to note every camera along the route. Unmarked wooden doors lined each side of the hall. It was going to be hard to find the evidence room, and by extension, the journal. At least I had a plan though, the only thing that could ruin it would be a – Family Restroom.

Damn it. What kind of police station has a family restroom? Families don’t come in here. I need a men’s room with urinals, stalls – the whole nine yards. Not a private room.

“Okay,” Detective Graham unlocked the door, “I’ll be waiting out here. Come out when you are done.”

“Sure thing,” I counterfeited a smile. “Be out in a second.” I entered the room and locked the door behind me.

I didn’t run my simulations to account for a private bathroom. How am I going to use my illusion skill to pretend to be a police officer now? Graham will be suspicious as hell if some random cop comes out of the private bathroom that I am supposed to be peeing in.

Perhaps I can hack into the police department’s wireless network and create a diversion for you. Go ahead and relieve yourself while I work through our options.

Don’t watch, okay?

Your human bodily functions do not interest me in the least, Admiral.

Promise me.

Fine, I won’t watch. Are you happy?

Thank you, I thought as I stood above the toilet and released my overextended bladder. It turns out black coffee really does go right through me.

CLICK.

The building went dark without warning, leaving only a trace hue of red emergency light in its wake.

PAL, I’m not done yet.

I didn’t do that.

Wait, you didn’t?

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“Mr. Carthage,” Graham yelled through the door, “hurry up in there, something is going on with our power.”

“Almost done,” I shouted back as I zipped up my pants and tried to find my way around the dark room.

I am detecting a hostile presence within 500 feet of our location.

You’re kidding right? Come on PAL, now is not the time to joke.

We need to get out of here, NOW.

“Oh my God! What the hell is that?” Graham’s voice cracked in fear. “Holy shit! Open fire, open fire!”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Fuck!” I reacted instinctively. We were under attack. Which could mean only one thing, “The enemy is here to kill me.”

Move Admiral. We have to get you to safety.

“False Impression,” I shouted as I pushed open the door and ran into the fray.

Fearful shrieks echoed through the hallway as gunfire continued to ring out in the distance. The tight space reeked of copper and smoke as I tripped and tumbled my way back towards the interview room.

“What is going on, officer?” A familiar feminine figure grabbed on to my illusionary uniform.

“There is an active shooter in the building,” I shouted, “we need to call for backup.” The grotesque smell caused my esophagus to swell, distorting my voice in the process. Harris had no idea that it was me.

“What do you think they are after?” Harris clutched me tightly as we fumbled about in the dark. “My best guess is that it has something to do with that ‘alien’ guy. I heard the shooter yelling about a journal and aliens.” I lied.

“Shit,” Harris began yanking me towards the side entrance. “We have to get backup from the jail! Get the journal from the Carthage case, and get out of here. I will get help!”

“I’m new!” I shouted over gunfire, “which way is the evidence room?”

“Take this door on my right,” she practically pushed me into the door. “Move!”

“Yes ma'am,” I shouted as I made my way into the pitch-black space, closing the door and locking it behind me.

“Crap! I can’t see, PAL! Don’t you have a night vision skill or something that you can unlock for me.”

No.

“Come on PAL! Give me something to work with.”

Just keep looking. I already sent out a request for mutual aid from neighboring stations.

“Will that even matter??” I growled, as I tossed open filing cabinets and ruffled through boxes, “I doubt those police can hold out for very long.”

Just keep looking!

“Fine!” I clonked my head on a shelf as I made my way towards the far corner of the room. On the floor was some kind of a metal trunk – perhaps an evidence locker. It was too difficult to see what it was, but it definitely seemed to be filled to the brim with bagged items. I carefully felt each of the bags, trying to find an outline that resembled the journal from the day before.

CLICK.

With a sputter, the lights kicked back on – but the battle was nowhere near over. Screams and gunfire erupted right outside of the room that I was in. It had to be Detective Harris and her backup, which meant that I was in trouble. If the assailant had made it this far into the precinct, then there is no way that Harris and some jail guards were going to be able to hold them off.

Admiral, check your 5 o’clock. Is that the journal?

“Yes!” I jumped away from the pile of crap I was digging through and rushed towards the pink and purple notebook. It had been sitting on a small table right next to the door. If only I hadn’t wasted all my time digging around in the dark.

“I’ll be taking that,” a blood-drenched police officer opened the door as I approached it. “Just like I’ll be taking your life.”

“Please, help!” I feigned ignorance, “the precinct is under attack.”

Don’t bother. He can see right through your illusion. After all, he is currently shrouded in a partial illusion himself.

“Who the hell are you!?” I screamed.

“I’m your FRN, Christopher Carthage.” The man twisted out a crooked smile, “and I’m here to take over the world.” The shadowy figure lifted his sidearm at me. “Sorry it had to end this way, PAL, but there can only be one ruler of the restored IGC – and that ruler is me.”

We lost, Admiral. Mission Failure.

My mind went back to my mom’s book as I looked down the barrel of my assailants’ gun. Given this crazed person’s pointed choice of words and their appearance, there was only one person that it could be. The one person that I had missed my entire life.

“Dad, is that you?”