Two weeks passed.

Every day was full of too much travelling and not enough sleep. Smoke yawned as he perched on the corner of the buttressed tower, arm slung around one of the famed chimera for support. The buildings below him stretched into the distance, nothing piercing the skyline save the famous symbol of the city, the Eiffel Tower. Paris had been spared the construction of a tower, and its population was not as depleted as most other urban areas, though still a good many had been taken to the London one.

He'd been in Paris now for a few days, and he knew he was getting close. The information black-outs, the heavy police presence, everything pointed to the fact that his quarry was somewhere within this city. That, and the gaping crater where the Jardin des Tuileries used to be. The waters of the Seine were still pouring into it, lapping up against the Louvre where Smoke could make out the frantic efforts of the people, dashing into the museum in a race against time to save as many art works as they could before the river leaked into the lower floors. He gave a derisive chuckle as he watched - Humanity was enslaved and a week away from extermination, yet here they were trying to save pictures and statues. He wasn't sure if that was beautiful or just plain stupid.

Taking his eyes off the scene he resumed his search, looking for any sign of the explosions and chaos that would signal the location of his target. So it was, as he gazed out over the cityscape from Notre Dame Cathedral, that he didn't notice the figure slowly walk up behind him and put his palms to the base of the statue he was leaning on. Suddenly, the support of the Chimera disappeared from under his arm, and he fell out over the buttresses, freefalling towards the ground in a cloud of thick grey dust. He had fallen almost half the height of the building before he pulled himself together[1] and vaporised, the cloud swirling up and curling back into where he had fallen from. Reforming on the walkway, he found himself face to face with a silver-haired, middle-aged man smiling slightly in amusement and leaning against the facade of the building unconcernedly.

"Qui es-tu? Pourquoi me suivez-vous?" The man's expression had become more severe as he spoke, and he took a step towards Smoke, palms outstretched.

"Oh shit, you've gotta be kidding me. How did I not figure he wouldn't speak English?" muttered Smoke[2] to himself.

"Ah, but I do," said the man, palms slowly returning to his sides. "And who might you be, man who 'as been following me?" The man's French accent was barely perceptible, a slight lilt that sometimes omitted the "h" of a word.

"You're Richter, right? We need your help."

Smoke put his hands up and tried to make sure he had as earnest an expression as possible.

"We're not with the police! We want to fight them, and we have a plan!" Seeing Smoke's sudden tension and fear, Richter threw back his head and laughed.

"I think I can see you are not la gendarmerie, merci. They do not use les Superieurs for their officers. They try to kill them."

He put his arm around Smoke and led him down the walkway and into the narrow spiral stairs leading into the interior of the building. There was no sound but the echoes of their footsteps as they wound their way back down.

"You know, this was my favourite place in the city, before. It was beautiful, so peaceful. Now, nearly no-one comes here. The services stopped when the Cardinal refused, 'e refused to allow his clergy to be taken."

They exited through a narrow stone doorway, into the nave, where the giant organ still stood beneath the rose window, the light through the stained glass tinted blue. The roof arched high overhead, a peaceful, serene atmosphere even now, when broken candles and crumpled papers littered the floor.

"Of course, they shot 'im. Blew his head open right in the doorway of the building."

He sat on the pew furthest to the back, and gazed up towards the altar, which was still flanked by the kneeling statues of long-dead kings. The altar itself was bare, but the giant golden crucifix behind it remained. Smoke found himself staring at the sculpture beneath, a man lying prostrate, dead or dying, on the lap of a robed woman, whose face was turned up to the heavens imploringly. The great hallway seemed to become smaller as he stared at the image, the space between him and the beseechments of the suffering woman narrowing. He sat there speechless for some time, until the man known as Richter broke the silence.

"So, you have a plan, do you? Would you like to tell me about it?" Smoke broke his gaze from the sculpture.

"We know where the controller of all this is. We're going to take him down. It's that simple. We're going to break into the tower, and we're going to stop him, and then we're going to pull the tower down on his head. That's where you come in."

Richter turned his head to look directly at Smoke.

"Why not just pull the tower down immediately? Surely whatever's in there will die."

"How? They're huge. And we need to be sure. More than that, we can't pull down the towers while there are people in there, even if we have the ability. That's where our other new teammate comes in. You'll meet her soon enough."

"And what makes you think you can do this?"

"Nothing, but we have to try. We only have a week left." He saw Richter's quizzical look. "You've seen the purple waves in the sky, even here?" he asked. Richter nodded. "They grow in frequency every day. In one week, the towers will be ready, and will release a wave of energy into the skies that's going to eradicate practically all life on earth. So we have no choice."

"All life? Sounds a little ridicule to me."

Smoke gave Richter a blank look.

"There's a bunch of spheres flying around killing anyone who resists them, people being taken all the time to build some damn towers into the heavens, I can turn into a cloud and you can dissolve solid objects by touching them. What about this isn't ridiculous?"

Smoke stood up and stamped around, suddenly wanting to be out of this peaceful sanctuary that seemed to mock the reality outside.

"I don't dissolve things. I simply lower the amount of energy required to break the covalent bonds between atoms to a point where the background temperature encourages molecules to break down into their constituent parts."

He grinned at Smoke.

"I was the pet subject of the chemistry department of New Ottowa University for several years. So, say I am interested - where do we go now?"

Smoke was already walking towards the doors, not turning to look back.

"I brought someone to bring you back to New City. I can't carry you, but he can. He's keeping his head down, I hope, I couldn't have him looking for you too. Subtlety is not his style..."

On the other side of the city, FX was once again demonstrating his grasp of subtlety. He was half-way through a high-paced drum-and-bass track of his own devising. He had just finished a drop that had sent a group of about 7 or 8 Parisian police flying backwards out of the windows of the second-floor room he had been waiting in, in a white, terraced Art-Nouveau apartment block FX had quickly become bored of. He had been almost relieved when sirens had begun to blare in the streets below.

Coming up the stairs in front of him were several more at of the local gendarme, though having seen what had just happened to their comrades, none seemed keen to be the next one up, and there was a lot of hustling and moving towards the base of the stairs without anyone seeming to actually reach them. FX snorted - they thought they were safe, did they? Holding out his hands in the general direction of the stairs, he released a wave of sub-bass that smashed the floor above where the police were crouching, sending mortar crashing down onto them. The bass also had dire effects on the police's digestion, and several fell to the floor, their face-masks and body armour filling with the results.

An array of broken spheres littered the house and streets outside, FX not giving any of them a chance to get close enough to release the lethal shrapnel they all carried within. Shitshitshitshit, I'm gonna have to get out of here soon, he thought, blasting sound in all directions to keep his attackers disorientated. He had no idea how Smoke would find him again if he was forced to move out of the place they had agreed to meet, but it looked like he would soon have no other choice. A growing number of sirens were approaching from every direction, though he had to stop his own sound-waves before he could hear them, and he was already growing tired.

"Screw it," he said to himself, and launched into the air.

Passing out the window and heading upwards into the air, he looked down to see what must be almost a hundred officers pouring in down every street. Chumps, he said to himself, and soared away... Or at least, that was the plan. Just as he was tensing up for a massive burst of sound to propel him away, everything went black.

It must have only been a microsecond that he blacked out for, for when he opened his eyes once more all he could see was a dark cloud gradually dissipating into the wind, hovering above him and getting further and further away. It took him another few seconds to realise that the cloud wasn't heading upwards from him, he was falling downwards from it. Instinctively putting his hands out behind him and sending out waves of sound, he managed to stop himself just a few meters from the ground. Once more launching into the air, he was ready this time when there was a massive explosion just a few meters to his right. As this black cloud also began to dissipate, FX scanned the area for its source.

"There... Je-sus."

On four different streets stood four different flatbed trucks, and on those trucks each had what was quite clearly, even to the untrained eye, an anti-aircraft gun. Suddenly buffeted on all sides by explosions, he began spiralling in an out-of-control dive towards the ground, shrapnel tearing chunks of flesh from his arms and legs. He smashed into the concrete on his back, the fall barely softened by the unguided bursts of sound he sent from his flailing palms. Opening his eyes, he saw feet heading towards him from both ends of the street, rifles pointed directly at him. Surrounded, disorientated, he raised both his hands above his head and made to stand, only to be knocked back down by a rifle butt to the side of his head. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, and he was finding it difficult to breathe.

"Ne bouge pas! Ne bouge pas!" shouted one of the police, standing directly over him with the barrel of his rifle only a few inches from his face.

"Shit, alright, alright, take it easy. I don't speak Spanish or whatever," said FX, raising a hand above his face to wipe the blood away. This movement was met by a solid kick in his ribs from another officer, standing off to his side.

"Ne bouge pas!!" screamed the cop standing over him, face reddening and gun swinging alarmingly.

"Alright! Ok! Shit, you got me, ok? Look, I'm just gonna lie here."

FX dropped his hands to his sides, gently coughing as his throat filled with blood. He had to blink his eyes to clear them from the cut in his scalp, so at first he wasn't sure he was really seeing the cloud that drifted into view above him, a few tendrils whisping off and forming, very vaguely, a winking face. He tensed, not exactly sure what he was getting ready for, and then started cursing the police standing over him again. It was in this state, the French gendarme shouting at FX, FX shouting back, that the ground suddenly gave way beneath them.

FX found himself falling back into a deep grey powder, a strange sensation like falling backwards into a pool, but when he tried to move himself, to swim, his arms and legs had no effect. In panic, he opened his mouth and took a great mouthful of what felt and tasted like grit, or sand. His air tract blocked and his sight blinded, he tried to cry out in pain but was unable to. Come on, get a grip, he thought, setting aside the growing burning in his chest and the desire to inhale, and he forced his hands downwards, releasing a narrow burst of sound that propelled him upwards faster than he had expected. Bursting out into the light, he flew chaotically upwards spitting out the curiously fine sand-like material and inhaling deep lungfuls of air. Finally recomposing himself enough to scrape the powder from his eyelids, he stabilised himself to look downwards at where he had just escaped from.

Below was bedlam. The centre portion of the street where he had been surrounded had a curious, liquid-like quality, an amorphous grey pool with a surface that seemed to have waves rippling across it, though smaller and moving more slowly than with water. Of the police that had been standing around him there was no sign, and where the four AA guns had been there were also similar but smaller pools. A number of police were indeed visible, but they were running in the other direction, some dropping their rifles and gear as they sprinted. Becoming aware of a presence just to his left, he turned and saw an ethereal form, a form that looked just like Smoke except Smoke generally wasn't transparent and surrounded in vapour.

"Cool trick, eh?" said Smoke. "I figured it out a couple of days ago."

"Yeah, cool, right. Look, glad you made it and all that, but are you gonna explain what just happened, or what?"

Smoke gestured to the street below, where a silver-haired man was walking calmly towards the edge of the strange pool directly beneath them.

"He happened."

"Oh. You found him, then."

"Yep. Found him..." They stared down at the figure, who looked up at them and smiled.

"So we can get back to somewhere the cops at least try to kill you in English?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Actually, it took them a few hours before they left. Quickly realising they would need warm clothing not only for themselves but also for Richter, they spent some time searching for a likely-looking shop, and then spent an equally long time convincing Richter that climbing onto FX's back was the only viable way to get across the Atlantic. Swearing alternately in English and French[3], it was a weary group that touched down 4 or 5 hours later in the yard of the New City house.

"Merde, I will never, ever, be doing that again, you 'ear me?" cursed Richter, practically falling off FX and bending his legs over and over to restore blood flow.

"Hey, I'm not asking you to, alright? The less we say about that trip, the better."

Smoke strode up to the door and opened it, calling into the house then gesturing the other inside.

"Ok guys, that's enough of that. Let's get in, get warm, then we can see if the others have been equally successful."

Cursing and muttering under his breath, Richter hobbled in first, followed by a red-faced FX who went straight to the fridge, opened it and smiled.

"Hey, someone found more beer!"

Richter suddenly perked up, moved stiffly over, grabbed the can from FX's hand, and cracked it open in one swift move. FX leaned in and grabbed another for himself, and threw one to Smoke. The three of them were sprawled out on the furniture of the living room when Shade walked in a few minutes later.

"Seriously, you couldn't let me know you were back?" he asked sardonically.

"Hey, I shouted," replied Smoke. "Can't help it if you're doing your 'isolation tank' thing again."

"I wasn't. Though yes, I guess I was focused on something..." Something in the tone of Shade's voice drew the others curiosity, which is why they were all looking up when a voice said "Are they here?" and a beautiful, no, a stunning woman stepped out from behind him.

Tall and dusky-skinned, her build hinting at some Indian heritage, and with piercing green eyes, the three men in the room were left at a loss for words, jaws hanging open. Only Smoke reacted when Triss walked in behind her, closing his mouth and looking guiltily away - and wondering to himself what exactly he had to feel guilty about.

"I see you boys have met Kala then. You can stop drooling, FX."

FX did not take his gaze from the woman, but both Smoke and Richter stood to greet Triss. Richter got there first, holding out a hand that Triss shook firmly.

"I do not think she is the only woman 'ere to delight the senses," he said.

Smoke shook his head - suddenly Richter's accent was much stronger, a thick rich layer that made Triss's eyebrows rise almost imperceptibly, but Smoke noticed nevertheless. Which was why he was relieved when Triss rattled off a sentence in French that was unintelligible to him, but definitely carried a tone of severity that told him she wasn't falling for it. Still, Richter looked delighted, and bent to kiss the hand he was, as Smoke suddenly became keenly aware, still holding.

"You did not mention you had such a delightful group here, monsieur. I think I would have come here much faster had you told me."

Triss gave Richter a disparaging look as Smoke tried to think what to say, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Smoke isn't the most aware when it comes to things like women. Or signs," she said, turning her derisive expression, just for a second, towards him.

Women? He thought. Signs? He turned his face away and walked back to the couch, hiding his reddening face, confused and feeling like he had just lost a game he wasn't aware he was playing. FX burst out laughing, then spoke to the new arrival.

"The Gravity Girl! I used to see you on TV! Wow, that's a blast from the past. I've got to tell you, I'm a big fan. I mean, I didn't watch your program so much, but you better believe me that I had your posters. And your calendar, now I think about it..." His voice trailed off as he realised the rest of the group was staring at him, but then soldiered on.

"Anyway, glad they managed to find you, and, er, welcome to the team?" The sentence ended in a quavering inflection, making it sound like a question. This time it was Smoke's turn to burst out laughing.

Shade coughed and spoke up.

"Well, everyone, now that we've made such a brilliant impression on our new comrades, I think we should settle down and talk about what's going to happen next. What do you say?"

There were various muted sounds of agreement, and the group grabbed what pieces of furniture they could and sat down in a mean circle.

"First, I think it's important we demonstrate to each other the extent of our abilities. It is imperative that we all know each other's strengths and limitations. I will go first," said Shade, and immediately the senses of the group were completely blocked.

From the darkness in which he seemed to be floating, Smoke heard Shade's voice as if he was speaking directly in his ear.

"This is what I can do. I can completely cut off all sensation, not only sight, but smell, hearing, taste, and touch. I can also sense the location of the people I am affecting, even should they try to move. I don't recommend this though, because..." His voice cut off, and suddenly the lights were back on and Smoke could see.

The rest of the group were blinking as if emerging from a darkened room except FX, who was rolling around on the floor clutching the shin of his right leg.

"...because even if you manage to move, the lack of sensation means you will likely hurt yourself, for example by walking right into the coffee table. FX has just demonstrated that."

FX swore and stood up, returning to his seat. "That was damn weird. I couldn't feel my legs move, but I was pretty sure they were. Then suddenly my senses come back and my bloody leg is on fire."

"I can only block the senses, it seems, I can't actually stop the nerve impulses travelling down the body that induce movement. I felt you stand up and take several steps, which I must say is impressive. Normally people fall over within two."

"Yeah, great. How far would I have to walk to get out of that?" FX asked, still stroking his shin.

"My range appears to be about 10 meters or so in any direction, though it seems to depend on several factors, such as my energy levels and emotions. In the police station, for instance, I held down a large area both on our floor and above for several minutes, far longer than I generally manage." FX nodded, paused, and then looked directly at Shade.

"Can you stop speaking like a goddam professor, please, Stan? It really gets on my... nerves," he finished, looking worriedly at Kala. Smoke laughed again at FX's new-found verbal caution, from his seat on the couch next to Triss.

"This is just the way I speak..." said Shade, head hanging down with, Smoke noticed, a glance at Kala too. Oh shit, this could get complicated. "And I told you, nobody calls me that."

"Oh, forget it, I'm just tense as we're going to attack a centuries-old mechanical monster," said FX, voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Anyway, who's next?"

"Well, I can do this," broke in Triss, and she turned into the silvery liquid that gave her her second name, maintaining her form. Smoke couldn't help noticing (and suspected the others were equally as aware) that in this form the shape of her body was very clear, no hint of clothing covering it. Not that she was naked, per se, but it just seemed like... He broke his train of thought, aware of the group’s gaze flicking from her to him.

"Cool," he coughed, straining to keep a level tone. What the fuck is wrong with me today? He said to himself.

"I've learnt a few new tricks, too," continued Triss.

Suddenly she flowed out across the couch, pouring down to the floor where she rose in a spiral, a silvery snake that span gently in the centre of the room, before flowing over and around Smoke, rotating and whirling with him at the centre. He was terribly aware of the feel of her occasionally sliding into contact with him, a momentary wetness that was doubly peculiar because it was instantly gone when she flowed away from him, leaving him bone dry but feeling like he should have been soaked. He was also very conscious of the rising heat within him, suffusing his body until he thought the sofa was going to catch fire. By now blushing furiously, he couldn't look at the group but instead stared intently at the silvery form now dancing and flowing around the room.

Suddenly, she was back, sitting beside him as if nothing had happened.

"So long as some part of me is touching a surface, I can pretty much flow where and how I like."

The others were murmuring their appreciation, so it was only Smoke that heard Triss whisper "Enjoy the show?" Looking up at her, he saw her wink at him, then turn back to the group and ask;

"Who's next?"

"I guess I'll go," said FX.

The room filled with music, a low-fi sound filled with reverberating bass that sent vibrations through everything. Growing in intensity, it seemed to Smoke that FX had chosen to play an unusually sexy song, though he wasn't sure that his currently raging hormones weren't partially to blame for that thought. The feeling of Triss's hand briefly squeezing his thigh told him that he wasn't entirely alone in this thought. Another wink, then back to the group.

Smoke's mind took some time to come back to earth, by which point Richter was delighting in dissolving[4] random objects that the group passed to him. Smoke watched as the glass Richter held on his palm fell as a shimmering, glittering dust between his fingers and to the ground.

"Try not to breathe that in, please," said Richter, "I think we should probably clear that up." No-one moved.

"So, can you break down any materials?" asked Shade, leaning forward in interest.

"Non, not at all. You see, as far as we could make out, I alter the energy levels of covalent bonds. These are not usually found in metals, which form from ionic bonding, so metal is out, except a few rarer examples. I spent eight years working with the researchers in New Ottawa, and I learnt rather a lot of chemistry myself, but I am not fully understanding it myself."

Smoke was fairly sure the grammatical mistakes were more of a style choice for the benefit of the ladies than actual errors.

"I can do it with most liquids too, but... well, I guess I will show you."

Taking another glass, he stood up and went into the kitchen, returning with it now half-full of water. Holding it up, he spoke as the glass and liquid broke down.

"You see, when I break down the water, it separates into hydrogen and oxygen, so..." and here he brought up a lighter, my lighter, realised Smoke, flicked it down, and there was a burst of flame that rose rapidly up past Richter's face, making the rest of the group jolt away.

"I can make my own bombs from l'eau, from water." He grinned at the surprised looks on the groups faces.

"How much can you alter?" asked Shade.

"It is like you said, it depends on 'ow I feel. Normally, just a few square meters in breadth, length, and depth, but when I feel particularly stressed, a great deal more."

He looked towards Smoke.

"I think you saw my work at the gardens in Paris. Let me tell you, being chased and hunted by police makes me very stressed."

Smoke nodded in understanding, and briefly told the group about what he had seen from the top of Notre Dame. He then pulled out a cigarette, turned to Richter and asked;

"When did you get that lighter? I don't remember giving it to you."

Again, Richter smiled, passing back the lighter, which Smoke made quick use of.

"I have very fast hands," he replied, beaming at the group, especially the ladies, Smoke noticed. Still, everyone else seemed unfazed, so he let it pass.

"So we can use Rickie to get into the tower!" said FX, in sudden realisation.

"Alas, we cannot. I 'ave been to the tower in Munich, early on, and could do nothing to the material. I cannot explain it - it should have worked."

The group's faces, Shade's especially, showed their disappointment at this news.

"Your turn now, Smoke," said Triss. Smoke, mind addled by raging testosterone, was half-way through his transformation before he realised. Oh shit, he thought, my clothes.

Refusing to worry about that now, he span and flowed around the room, pulling himself into a thick cylindrical tube, a horizontal tornado of cloud, and streamed under and over the chairs and table, then spread himself out until he was an evenly dispersed mist filling the room. Finally, he reformed close to the ceiling in a vapour-wreathed human form that looked down at everyone staring up.

"I think," he started, hesitantly, "...that I've also figured out something new."

So saying, the cloud that was himself poured downwards, abruptly spreading out flat as if hitting a solid layer about halfway down the walls. The group found themselves staring at a thick layer of roiling cloud just a foot or two above their heads, the fresh clear air they sat in in stark contrast, as if a pane of glass separated the smoke from themselves.

The smoke cleared rapidly, and where the form of Smoke had been instead stood something that looked more like a Greek God, an Adonis of muscles and armour, outfitted with shield and sword.

"I'm not exactly sure how much use this is, but I can control my form pretty well now."

So saying, the Zeus-like figure collapsed in on itself, now forming into a stag, a sailing ship, a lion. Kala actually clapped when he formed the last one.

"Your increased control may well be useful one day, I'm sure, but I think it's what you did before that is of greater use," chimed in Shade. "Can you make a layer of cloud like that vertically as well?"

The lion exploded outwards in every direction, then the smoke poured over to the windowed side of the room and formed a vertical layer completely hiding the wall and cutting off the natural light, leaving them in a dim gloom.

"That will be very useful as cover," said Shade, voice filled with satisfaction. "Thanks for the demonstration, Smoke."

Smoke, riding on a high of adrenaline[5], poured back to the sofa and resumed his natural state before realising that he had, indeed, resumed his extremely natural state.

He had a momentary glimpse of Kala's eyes growing wide in surprise before Triss stood up in front of him, passing his pants and blocking him from the rest of the group's sight.

"Thanks," he said.

She nodded in response, but continued to face him, watching, a slight smile on her face. Determined not to seem embarrassed, Smoke put his pants on as calmly as he could, then reached up for his shirt.

Meanwhile, the group, a little uncomfortable perhaps, had already turned their attention to Kala.

"So, can we try the floating trick?" FX asked eagerly. Kala, until now quiet and content to observe, reached out and touched the coffee table that FX had previously had an altercation with during Shade's demonstration. It gently rose up, twisting and turning as it gradually increased in height.

"That is wicked!" said FX, "I've always wanted to try this."

So saying, he blew towards the table, which span and rolled away through the air as if it were a balloon, not a solid wood-and-glass counter. It continued on its way, bouncing slightly off Shade's arm, until it met the wall, where it rebounded a little and came to a stop. Kala stood up, walked over to the table, and gently guided it back to its original resting place. Carefully positioning it a few inches above the floor, she released the table and then brought her right hand down onto it. As soon as her fingers came into contact with the table-top, it fell to the ground with a loud thunk. Shade pushed at it with his hand, but there was no give. The table was once again a heavy, static object.

"I can change the effect of gravity on objects," said Kala, "making them heavier or lighter without changing their size or mass." Richter looked puzzled.

"But density is a direct result of mass and volume!" he burst out.

"And you can alter the energy level of covalent bonds." Kala replied. "Our level of science just can’t explain what we do. I let the researchers who were interested look into my ability, but they just rambled on about possibly proving the existence of gravitons or something, then ran off to their computers. Apparently I was going to advance science by years, but then the ships came and... You know the rest. What makes you expect logic from any of this?"

"But there is a logic to this," broke in Shade, "It's a logic we cannot recognise, but there is a logic. This is technology on a level we haven't even begun to comprehend. The ability to change energy requirements at a molecular level, the ability to redefine the most basic values of atomic interactions, those abilities make those of Smoke, Triss and I seem simplistic!"

Shade's voice had risen in excitement, and his eyes burned with a passion Smoke had come to know well.

"Speaking of which," interrupted FX, "where is the wonder-kid himself? He makes..."

"...makes the rest of us look simple," said Nick, appearing and striding in through the doorway. "Hi, you're Richter..." and here he grabbed Richter's hand and shook it, "... and you already know you're going to help us even if you do want to play it safe, and one day you want to buy a restaurant somewhere in south-east Asia and spend your time enjoying the local 'scenery' while paying others to run the place. And you..." he went on, turning to Kala, "...are Kala Walters, the Gravity Girl, though I guess most people already know that, but I bet they don't know you've secretly been aiding the construction of the tower for months now."

At the final comment, the mood of the room changed. Smoke and Triss stood up sharply, Shade raised his hands and pulled the shadows in close, and Richter pressed his palms to the ground. Only FX didn't react.

"Relax, guys," said FX, "He's just showing off. He's been sitting outside waiting for this moment the whole time, and he's hardly likely to tell us this in front of Kala if she was any threat, is he?"

Shade, Smoke, and Triss all looked in surprise at FX's new-found perceptiveness, whilst Kala just looked at him in relief.

"They have my sister," she said, voice turned weak and thin. "They took her, and then some people came and said I had to help move construction equipment or they'd stop feeding her. She looked so thin!"

Tears welled up in Kala's eyes. FX stood and came over to her, patting her on the shoulder - warily, it must be said - and glared at Nick.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that? Just to get your little moment, eh?"

Nick sighed. "You think I didn't see this? I did. But you all need to realise - the power I have is not a controllable one. It brings a lot of pain, a lot, and I can't always see where it will lead."

Richter looked angry and confused. "Is he a mindreader? I've heard of such a thing, but never to such accuracy." It took the group sometime to explain about Nick.

"So, I told you those things about me?" asked Richter.

"Yes," Nick replied, "a couple of days from now, when things were going wrong. Of course, now I've told you this, it's not going to happen that way." He took a deep breath. "Instead, you already know I know, so you won't tell me, and I'm going to get a huge migraine in a few seconds and become confused and incoherent for a short time."

The rest of the group became concerned at this news, new information to them.

"Don't worry, I'll be able to handle it, but this is going to be a bad one. Kala's secret would have come out early on, as we approached the tower, but Richter's wasn't even part of the last alternative future I remember, but the one before that. I remember remembering see? So, please don't ask me too much, there's only so much... I can... do..."

Nick suddenly collapsed to the floor, writhing around in agony and pounding his forehead with his fists. Smoke and FX were the first to react, grabbing him by the limbs and trying to hold him still, but he managed to overcome even their efforts. He began shouting, at first incoherently, then brief snatches of conversations that the group were not able to fathom.

"...go for the neck..."

"...always rejected me, you can't control it..."

"...made a mistake... made a mistake... I remember now... made a mistake..."

The final phrase repeated and repeated, the strength behind it slowly weakening until it was a faint murmur, then Nick fell into a deep sleep, breathing heavy but peaceful. The others, gathered around him, looked at each other.

"Hell of a group you have 'ere," said Richter.

Shade and Smoke had picked Nick up as gently as possible and put him to bed on the sofa, covering him in a blanket and turning off the lights. Kala had disappeared upstairs to a room she had taken over, and Triss too was nowhere to be seen. FX and Richter had decided to try one of the houses next door in search of warmer, softer beds than the few surfaces available here, and Shade said he still had some thinking to do as he disappeared into the basement. Smoke was left standing in the entrance hall, mind racing through the events of the past few days, even weeks. The hall was barely lit by the moonlight shining in from the landing above, and he resolved to also go find himself a room elsewhere. As he was preparing to slip out the front door, a slight tapping from the top of the stairs drew his attention.

Looking up towards the landing, he at first didn't see the slim, sleek dark leg that emerged from the right, the rest of its owner still hidden by the wall. The leg ran in a perfect slope towards the floor, toes pointed downwards to make one smooth line, bare skin shining as it reflected the soft moonlight entering through the landing window. Visible from just above the kneecap, a hand appeared too, slowly sliding down towards the foot, followed by the head of Triss, hair hanging loose and flowing. He was frozen, mesmerised, and it was only when she beckoned him with a finger that he headed up the stairs. The moonlight shone on the empty landing; quicksilver.

[1] Or in this case, apart

[2] Whose French was as good as his Chinese: i.e. non-existent

[3] And a few that seemed to be of his own invention

[4] As Smoke still thought of it

[5] If indeed adrenaline could be said to exist when he was in such a form. Either way, it was a rush.