Marc stood looking down at the lights of the major city of Home below his aerie. Bella had left. He believed her because he'd seen her thoughts. Well, at least he believed she had not been involved in the attacks on the Ops Teams nor Doni's death. Which meant what, exactly. He was nearly certain Margaret and Maya were involved, yet he did not fully credit them with so convoluted and long-lived a plan.

His own plans took millennia to complete, so he understood how one thinks when one attempts such long-term strategy. Granted, one took advantage of momentary disruptions to move forward a piece of strategy, but even so. He could make no sense of the attacks on the Ops Teams, unless he factored in pure bloody-mindedness and a perverse pleasure in inflicting misery. Margaret, in particular, fit that bill quite well. Maya... she was a bit less obvious in her hatred of Stephen and his entire Refuge operation, but still, she would, he had little doubt, be willing to risk all to inflict a serious blow to hurt him, even if it complicated future plans.

He sighed, and put his own current plan into action. He changed into less formal dress, collected the several bags he'd had ready to go for several days now. He'd wanted to remain on Home, primarily because he could sense currents here that he could trust no spy to spot. Well, it couldn't be helped. He needed to be at the Refuge. It was the only way he saw that might make the Listeners hesitate and give him a hearing, and an opportunity to reach out to Stephen. He wanted them to realize he was in their control. An offer of trust from him.

He fully expected the Refuge to be locked down and inaccessible except to those personally invited there very soon. He couldn't take the chance that he might have to talk his way in; in such an event he'd lose the initiative. So, with one last look around, and one last check of a particular bag, he teleported himself and his possessions directly into the locked office Stephen had assigned to him. His exotic equipment sat there, using minimal power, only diagnostic lights flickering. He walked over to check out all the readouts, and run a basic battery of tests. Yes, it was all in good working order. As were the atomics to be detonated by the security program in the event of a breach of the security field. He'd once used them to destroy a planet and every living thing on it. He hoped he'd never need to again. But at the moment the jury was still out.

Once he'd completed his survey of his hardware and stowed two things which were priceless, he exited the locked room and considered his options.

Reno was still on Home. He knew where Reno was - at least within a few kilometers - at all times. Something must have detained him. Knowing Reno, it was probably a situation well worth investigating. The young man had proven, over the few short years of their acquaintance, to have an uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time, and to demonstrate an ability to put together disparate pieces in surprising and intelligent ways. Alas that he sold himself short.

Marc walked on into the office that had been given over to Reno. As usual, it was pristine. It looked, at first glance, as if Reno had not even occupied it yet. Still, if you understood the man you could see the signs that he'd organized it.

Voices in the corridor gave Marc some warning before the office door suddenly flew open. Tommy stood there, apparently frozen in place at seeing Marc settled quite comfortably at Reno's desk.

"Uh," Tommy said.

"Good evening to you as well," Marc said equitably.

"We've been waiting for you," Tommy finally stammered.

"Have you really?" Marc asked. "How pleasant for me."

"Stephen said I was to tell Reno ...."

"Tell me what?" came Reno's voice from the corridor just before he came around the corner and saw Marc sitting there, and Tommy apparently stuck to the floor,

"Uh," Tommy said, forcing himself to look away from Marc. "That Stephen wants to see Marc as soon as possible."

"Ah," Reno said. "Boss, Stephen wants to see you. He's not conscious at the moment though, and there's an absolute crush of folks around the Infirmary. I'm sort of surprised the overflow hasn't ended up down here, really."

"There are?" Tommy asked and got ignored for his pains.

"Have you any idea when Stephen will regain consciousness?" Marc asked Tommy. "I assume the healers are doing their best to keep him prone and asleep to accelerate as much as possible his healing."

"I, uhm...." Tommy said, looking at the floor rather than at Marc.

"I doubt they'll let you talk to him before morning, Marc. We might as well get some sleep," Reno answered for Tommy.

"Is Lord Sutcliffe in residence?" Marc asked unexpectedly.

Tommy, more or less forced to respond, nodded.

"Would you please ask him, when he has a moment, to meet with me? In my rooms, if he can. I think it would be best if I stayed rather far away from the Ops Centre or the Infirmary for the time being."

"Uh, sure," Tommy said to the carpeting.

With that, Marc popped out.

"How does he know where his room is?" Tommy said to Reno.

"Oh, he's popped in several times already. Just to deliver a word or two. I hope he brought some of that good wine he drinks with him."

"Our wine is very good!" Tommy responded with feeling.

"Well, I wouldn't know, would I?" Reno replied with a grin. 'And believe me, with Marc sharing my quarters, I'll need wine. Or maybe whiskey."

Tommy, his wits finally catching up with the action, ignored the slur on the hospitality of the House and turned to go. Someday, he promised himself, someday I will not lose it around that man…

"Hey, where you going?"

"I've got to let them know he's here."

Reno grinned and fell into step with him . "So you were waiting for him?"

"Yeah. Who are all the people up at the infirmary? Shouldn't be anyone there but Liam and them now."

"Marc sent some new troops."

It stopped Tommy dead in his tracks. "Whaddya mean?" I already got the new teams settled. Marc didn't send `em."

"Well, apparently these are new, new troops that Marc did send." Reno felt a spurt of sympathy at the look on Tommy's face and added, "Tabitha was already on it when I left. So it's safe."

"Well, that's OK then."

And, clearly, she'd been more than on it as the mob had been eliminated and calm restored. Tommy relaxed again and led the way into the infirmary, Reno faithfully behind him.

As soon as they looked at him he said, "I thought you'd want to know. Marc's here. He was in Reno's office. I don't know for how long."

Liam, who'd been about to ask Reno about the teams stayed still.

"I gave him Stephen's message and he asked to see you." Tommy nodded his head at Baz. "When you have a moment, he said. He's in his rooms, not thinking it a good idea to be around here or the center."

"Indeed. But, first, I think you had a question for Reno, Liam?"

"Yeah. The two teams that arrived…do you know why Marc issued that order?"

"I…uhm…well I let Marc know that clearly you're short-handed here."

"So this was before Stephen's…." Baz let it trail off.

"Yes."

Baz smiled at them all. "I think I've a moment now. If you would stay here Tommy?"

"Sure, I can do that."

"Liam, have you met Marc before?"

"Not personally, but I'd like to if you're offering?

"I think it would be the mannerly thing to do. Ah, Reno, if you would be so kind as to show us where his rooms are…?"

"Uhm…sure, I can do that…he's up stairs. With me."

It was a change, leading not following. It would be another one if they let him stay. Reno took a large breath, stocking up and knocked on the door.

Marc, looking his usual unruffled self, opened the door. "Come in," he said to the three. "Good of you to see me Lord Sutcliffe. And this is?" he asked looking at Liam.

"Liam ap Cadfan," Reno supplied. "Sort of elevated dogsbody for Stephen. Unlike myself, the lowly kind."

Marc raised an eyebrow but then ignored Reno. "Please make yourselves comfortable. I have a few questions, as I'm sure do you." As Liam and Baz took seats Marc turned to Reno, "Be so kind as to fetch us the whiskey. Or would you prefer wine?"

"Mr. Rogatien, for myself I feel that whiskey is a better choice this evening, as I suspect Liam would agree. I am, by the way, most pleased to see you again."

"I thought it best to arrive as soon as possible, given the undercurrents on Home. I am desirous of lessening any tendencies toward any possible confrontations. Thus I will do my best to stay out of your way until you've had a chance to address your current difficulties and hopefully calm your Listeners down."

Baz studied his manicure for a moment, a small smile playing on his face. "It is always so gratifying, as I am sure you agree, to have ones, speculations shall I say, validated."

Marc looked amused.

Baz's gaze moved to Reno, "Ah, thank you." "To harmony, I think." and saluted Marc with his glass.

Marc waited until Liam had his drink and raised it with a nod. "To Harmony, if not Complete Understanding."

"To that end, there is one item I would like to accomplish as soon as may be. I have equipment here that made Stephen a bit worried. I should like to move it to a safer location, away from any habited areas, yet within your Refuge compound. Perhaps in the morning you can spare me someone to show me a suitable location for it."

"I'm sure Tommy will be able to assist you. Either Liam or I will warn him."

"Thank you. And, how is Stephen's condition? I trust he is improving?"

"He is very weak. They are keeping him asleep for the most part both because he needs to stay still and to manage the pain. I am told that he will probably be awake again sometime tomorrow morning."

"Should he wish to speak with me then, I will make certain I am available. Now, is there anything I can do to make your lives easier? Short of leaving."

"He has asked specifically to see you as soon as it can be managed. As for the rest, we...Liam and I...are of the opinion that it would actually be better in all respects if you were to remain; Stephen's desire to speak with you making you an invited guest, a point I'm sure you grasp and one we have taken some pains to ensure will not be missed by those interested in such things."

"Ah. This relieves my mind. I will do my best not to tread on any toes. As will Reno," he added giving said young man a look that clearly indicated he meant it. "Oh, I apologize for adding to your chaos by sending down two additional teams and healers. I made the arrangements some time ago based on Reno's assessment of the Ops Teams staffing shortage. It was meant as a gesture indicating a change of direction on the Council."

"I am not, as I suspect you appreciate, involved in those matters. But Reno was kind enough to explain your thinking to us. I should share with you as well that before we became aware of your action Liam, at my suggestion, had asked that four of the teams repair here to...ah...assist with security and as a means of giving them something with which to...occupy themselves."

"Yes, I think the more they have to do, giving them a way to feel as if they are accomplishing something, the better. I trust you have also taken steps to finding just who was behind the attack? If you are successful in discovering anything in that regard, I would like very much if you will share that information with me. It is... critical. My support on the Council is ... limited. And evidence which might come to light will help me consolidate that support and help me to, shall we say, deal with anyone on the Council who might, even peripherally, have been involved."

Baz flicked a glance at Liam and returned to the contemplation of his hands.

Liam drained his glass and set it on the table. Rising, he said, "If I might interrupt...there are things I should see to, so if you gentleman will excuse me, I will take my leave of you."

Marc stood and contemplated Liam before finally saying, "I hope to see you again soon," upon which Reno showed him out. "Reno?" Marc added, indicating the door.

"Oh right. I'm sure I've got something I can go do." Reno drained his glass and stepped out of the room, closing the door securely behind himself.

"Yes?" Marc said, meeting Baz's eyes.

Baz studied him a moment. Then, all leisure gone from his voice and attitude he said, "What ever I discover on Malta will be no more than the remains, so I find myself wondering, Mr. Rogatien, just how frank I may be with you?"

"I admit to having made the mistake of ignoring the Council for many years. I am ignoring them no longer," was all Marc said in response.

"I am not, as I am sure you know, a signatory of the Covenants, so my interest in the internecine squabbles of the Awakened is, for the most part, that of a spectator. However, if it were me, the Council would not be where I would first cast my net. Beyond that, I can only tell you this. There were two actions taking place in that plaza, the one that did not involve Stephen, having no bearing on the matter. The other appears to have involved two men, one of whom may have been injured himself."

"I gave you more credit than you deserve. I apologize," Marc commented with an unreadable look.

"It is possible, of course, but requires no apology I assure you."

"One hopes enlightenment is not outside the realm of possibilities. But you wished a private chat. What can I do for you?'

"Enlightenment is always possible and frequently to be sought for it's own sake. I wished to speak privately with you in order to discover whether I too made a mistake. My inclination is to trust you. To the extent that I can speak for him, Stephen's is as well. And, as is obvious to the most casual observer you have been to some effort to make it plain you wish to be trusted. But your dilemma is the same as Stephen's was before you so helpfully solved it for him by suspending him from the Council. You represent interests beyond yourself."

"As do you. And Stephen. It might be best if you not assume I always speak for the Council. As is clear from my history, I, like you, had no interest in their petty squabbles. You might wish to ponder why I suddenly did become interested. Granted, my actions for the last ten years might give you pause, but as with any hostile takeover, one must watch one's step until one can secure one's position."

"I ponder it frequently and like none of the answers. And, in that spirit, you may be assured that whatever I discover regarding Malta will be made available to you. Now, if you would be kind enough to be aware that there may be things I can not share, I would happy to answer any questions you might have on the subject."

"I understand you had a recorder with you. And you've whisked him off to parts unknown. I assume that is to protect his memories of the incident. I will not ask you to show me a copy of the incident, which I am quite certain you have reviewed carefully and often. But it would be helpful if you will keep those copies, and the young man, as safe as possible. It is not outside the realm of possibilities that someone will go to great lengths to ensure they are destroyed. As for seeing a copy, I will ask Stephen himself. If he grants permission, I trust you will allow me a viewing."

"Certainly, though that was not on the list. As for Adam, your warning is timely."

Marc smiled. "Do tell what IS on the list?"

"Dinah McNeill and Laszlo, of course."

"I know quite a bit about Dinah McNeill, actually. As to Laszlo there I am less informed. If either of them might be inclined to do something to affect my plans, I do hope you will warn me. Otherwise, I will not press for information."

"Being uninformed as to your plans, other than what I surmise for the short term, it would be difficult."

"I plan on updating the Covenants and reforming the Council. Is that clear enough and long term enough for you?" Marc poured himself another whiskey and offered the bottle to Baz.

He extended his glass for the refill. "That is certainly concise. At the moment, I can say, then, that they do not affect your plans. I am hosting a small dinner party on the eleventh. There will be a meeting after which I can not, alas, include in the invitation, but it would give me great pleasure if you were to dine with us, assuming your schedule would allow that?"

"Baring things blowing up in our faces, I'd be delighted."

"If they were to, it would not, I feel sure, be due to lack of foresight on your part. Now, in the hope of sparing Stephen when you meet, is there anything you would like to know, beyond Malta, that I might answer for you?"

"I would appreciate someone allowing me to observe the Ops Teams in action. Beyond that, I am here at Stephen's request and await my meeting with him patiently."

"I'll let Liam know, I am not involved there. Do you wish to actually go out with them or observe from the Ops Center?"

"Observe at first. I may request more, but we shall see." Marc rose. He held out his hand to Baz. "I thank you for making time for me, Lord Sutcliffe. And for the unexpected invitation."

Baz laughed with some self-deprecation, shaking his hand. "Yes, well. It may be that I got the point. I should warn you, needlessly I am sure, that things are rather tense among some of the teams and while the fact that you are Stephen's guest is known they do not have the benefit of knowing you. Also, as you expect, we will be locked down here by morning so if you need access for communications or to come and go, let me know and I'll arrange it. Household matters are Tabitha and she is easy to find. Until tomorrow...."

"I will do my best to appear harmless. Good evening, Lord Sutcliffe. And thank you."

In the end it was four days and then some before Stephen consented to open his eyes again, a reluctance that caused consternation of varying sorts in several quarters. Tommy took to sleeping in the infirmary, leaving only to shower and change; Baz promised himself he was never playing gin with Liam again, having lost over a thousand pounds to Liam for his refugees, something that had never happened before; the teams were getting restless; and Tabitha, on the afternoon of day two delegated all household matters and took up permanent station in his room, an action that sent ripples of real alarm through the House. Reno appeared periodically for reports and Marc remained invisible. Baylee, who had barely left his side since the afternoon of the first day, was, on the afternoon of the second day, at the end of her reserves and sufficiently concerned to follow Tabitha's advice and ask Liam for assistance.

Baylee had, as was the common practice among the healers as a means of minimizing the use of pharmaceuticals, tripped the appropriate synapse in his brain for inducing a sort of unconsciousness. The synapse should have switched itself back on after anywhere from eighteen to twenty-four hours. When it didn't she tried to manually reset it. She couldn't. Stephen's brain, for whatever reason had decided he wasn't going to wake up and on the morning of day two began retreating further and further into unconsciousness. So, when the afternoon came and it showed signs of accelerating it's regression, Tabitha suggested she go get Liam. Baylee found him dealing another hand of gin.

Her appearance brought all activity in what had become the waiting room to a complete and utter halt. "Liam, I need you," she said, before returning back the way she came.

Liam folded his cards and followed her, his face as expressionless as he could make it. Tommy moved as if to join them and then sank back into his seat as Liam shook his head.

Baylee closed the door carefully behind them and sagged against it closing her eyes. After a moment she opened them and gestured towards the bed, "He should be awake. He should have woken yesterday. But he won't, his brain won't let him and now he's so deeply unconscious that I can't find him. He's not dead, but he will be if this isn't stopped. I need you to find him, to bring him back."

Stephen, to Liam's experienced eye, was indeed somewhere other than here. His body lay on the bed, pale and completely still, not even the most instinctual of the involuntary autonomic motions or the shallowest movement of breathing visible. Liam moved to the bed and took the chair vacated by Tabitha, set parallel to the bed, and relaxed. Then he laid his fingers on the hand nearest him and closed his eyes.

He entered the mind of his friend as gently and as unobtrusively as air. Stephen's mind was totally unprotected, absolutely open to him and Stephen, what constituted the self, the anima, the soul, of Stephen was nowhere to be found. So he moved deeper, following the layers of unconsciousness as far back into the nothingness of the un- ensouled mind as he could, searching for the point where the soul had retreated to before departing altogether. When he found it, finally, after several tries, he followed the path it taken as it had left Stephen's mind, out of the Refuge, out of the 'here' and into something that was not a part of the four dimensions of time and space that are usually all a human being experiences in this life.

This was a `where' of an eternal now, and what Liam had always understand as being, somehow, the forecourt of eternity. It was an in between place, with paths to many places that had nothing to do with heaven or hell or purgatory. Most of the time, when he used his gift to find a person's soul and it led to this forecourt, this was where they were. Few were willing to use one of the gates that led outward; most who'd been able to describe it later related a sense of repulsion or absolute horror at the thought of what was beyond.

Stephen was not in the forecourt. It was not good news. Souls that weren't there, in his experience, usually had no desire to be found or to return and generally got their wish.

Liam began the slow and painstaking effort to find a trace of Stephen, using all his skill and all his knowledge of him to find some hint that would tell him where to go, or point to the next place to look. He couldn't. So, in desperation he tried the only other thing he imagined might work.

He returned to Stephen's mind and went searching for something else, for the linkages that his bond with Doni had created and her death had ruptured, but not erased. He was appalled at what he found but had no time to waste on it. He found the main link, the place where it was irrevocably intertwined in the mind and began to follow that, going back again, deep into the layers of this unconscious mind, to places he had never imagined could be contained within it and back out again into a place absolutely new to him, where desolation and despair were living things, against which hope fought a seemingly losing battle.

Here the link became something almost alive, pulsatingly, vibrantly demanding and struggling for connection. He followed the link, beginning to understand and filled with pity. He found, finally, the soul of his friend, and grieved to his depths he approached it where it had come to rest, huddled in on itself and bereft in some wasted barren place that made Liam think of dry bones and Ezekiel. There was neither resistance nor any response from it as Liam gathered it up and began the journey back beyond a sense of an unbearable sorrow and an enduring acceptance of it. This was a soul that wasn't seeking death; but it certainly wished for it.

Baylee, waiting, had panicked, when after what seemed like an endless amount of time she had sought some connection with Liam's mind and had been unable to find one. But she had no experience with anything like this. Her work with Liam had been confined to repairing psychotic breaks and retrieving terrified children from hiding places deep inside themselves when the empaths couldn't. Tabitha, who did have experience of this and a great many other things besides, responded by first slapping her, then explaining and finally zapping her out of the room and to bed telling her not to return.

After Baylee was gone she resumed her watch over the pair at the bed with inexhaustible patience. Her first intimation of success came another endless series of hours later, with a subtle change in her foster son's appearance, a sense that his breathing had altered somehow. Her next was Liam, stirring in his chair, exhaustion setting its stamp on his features.

Liam opened his eyes finally and met her gaze, black and bottomless, filled with compassion and understanding. There was nothing he'd need to explain to her, he realized, she'd probably guessed right from the beginning.

"It might be best," he told her carefully, "if he weren't sent back into unconsciousness again."

"It won't be needed. He'll do now, but he'll be a handful for a while." she said.

Liam nodded, and then wincing as he tried to stand, sank back in the chair. "How long was I gone?"

"Over a day and a half, and they're going to be in a state soon."

Liam never had a chance to answer her. From the bed came a voice, weary and clearly coming from a throat dry and out of practice, but otherwise fine. "Who's going to be in a state?"

"All the people waiting on you to wake up and get back to work, which is where I'm going," was Tabitha's tart reply. She paused at the door, "I'll send one of the healers in, that being the political thing to do, but he'll be fine now, like I said, barring a need for some food, that I'll send up right away. Just don't let him out of bed for a few days more."

With that she was gone. Her path took her past Tommy and Baz, who'd come out of their seats at the sight of her. She slowed enough to say, "He wants to see you both, right away. Just don't let him out of bed, though you might have to sit on him to manage it."

Her last stop before returning to her command post in the kitchen was a room on the third floor. When Reno answered the knock she said, giving him no chance to speak and wasting no words on pleasantries, "He's awake and he'll want to see your boss in about an hour. Make sure he doesn't let him out of bed." She left Reno staring after her.

An hour after entering Stephen's room, Tommy opened the door to see Marc standing there, getting ready to knock and Reno seated in a chair preparing to play solitaire with cards abandoned long before. He was understandably surprised since he himself had just been sent to tell him Stephen had asked to see him if he was free, before performing another errand. He closed his suddenly open mouth with a snap and was annoyed enough at himself that his brain stayed online. "He's asking for you." Then he stood back to let Marc in and left, closing the door behind him.

Stephen at first seemed unaware of his presence. He was sitting up in bed, his eyes on something outside the window he was staring through. Beyond some inevitable weight loss and the disadvantages attendant on six days in bed he was himself. They'd kept him shaved and bathed and he'd changed into something clean. His left arm was in a cast, set in a sling against his chest. His expression, unguarded for an instant, was something more than simply bleak, before becoming merely unreadable as he turned it towards the door. He smiled slightly, self-deprecatingly, at Marc and said, "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long."

Marc came near and stood looking down at Stephen, his own expression pretty unreadable. "I've nothing but time. It is of no matter. I'm relieved to see you've chosen life rather than despair. I've some experience myself with both. Life, at least, has hope. Despair does not."

"And with life comes responsibility, which may be as potent as hope. But please, sit. I am told that the comfortable chair is the one closest, but for penance the other is well made."

Marc smiled. "I was raised Catholic. According to that religion I owe a great deal of penance." He took the hard chair. "I have no wish to tire you. But it is a good thing you decided to awaken. I'm not certain I'd have managed to escape with my hide if you hadn't."

"Tired is one thing I am not. As for your hide...." Stephen broke off at the knock and waited.

Tommy, looking like he wished himself elsewhere set a bottle of Macallen and two glasses on the table by the bed. "If she catches you I'm not responsible," was all he said before leaving again.

"I promised you a good single malt. Please...enjoy. And when you pour yours, I'd appreciate one as well. Think of it as a sign of the value I place on your hide."

Marc poured and handed a short glass to Stephen. "If you don't pass out I'll dole out more." They clicked glasses and drank. Marc poured himself more, and some for Stephen.

"So, where are we?" Marc asked. "I've placed myself here in hope of convincing your Listeners I've nothing to fear from them. You made it clear I was to be safe until we met. And now?"

"You will be safe anytime you are under my roof. I don't deal in murder."

"You weren't ever my worry. An angry mob on the other hand. But now that you are finally awake, the hostility should dissipate. Although I doubt many Listeners would take my word for it that your well-being is very high up on my list of concerns."

"Well, it has been a while since their wellbeing was on the list of anyone's concerns at all, particularly those on the Council. I am told, however, that you are changing that. As those things go, that is probably the best course to take. A get well card might also have some value, but that of course is your call."

"Yes, well, if you hadn't been quite so silly as to nearly get killed, by now you'd be up to full strength in Ops Teams. As it is," he shrugged. "Next time, do try to be more careful won't you?"

"I'm allowed a next time? You're generous, others are not so nearly understanding. The warning you passed along through Reno was not ignored, I assure you. Malta was simply unavoidable by that point. It also answered the question of if you were correct, but I will pass over that point in silence. What I can't pass over is the reality that what was once a political battle isn't that any longer. That is something new."

"You were seen as weak, Stephen. They had a moment to strike. I stepped up a moment to late. Still, we're both still here. With a bit of luck we might turn things around. You should rest. Is there anything I need to do for you while your keepers have you chained to this bed?"

"Yes. Accept that I'm not that weak and then tell me what you're planning."

"I plan on getting you and the Listeners in my court and taking on the rest of the Council. Want to play?"

"Absolutely, so long as the end you are aiming toward with those objectives is congruent with mine. Mine are no secret, but I am a bit in the dark as to yours, though Baz has told me you accepted his invitation."

"Let us say that the integration you seek is one step along the path I myself am pursuing. My vision is a bit more ... ambitious in its ends. But rest assured that I want all Awakened, however they may have arrived at that condition, on an equal footing."

Stephen considered him for a moment, weighing him. "Do you know I am not surprised. Someday perhaps, when we know each other better, you might share a bit more of your ...vision...with me. You might also, if you're staying for a few days, as I hope you will since I think you were right and I was wrong about being tired, wish to have a chat with Clem on the topic of his refugees. Cal has been told to cooperate with you in whatever way you wish."

"I thank you for that. I've an idea or two with regard to your ops teams. Perhaps after Cal gets over his shock at the idea of a Council member showing some interest in the nitty gritty of his work- a-day world he'll agree to listen to some ideas. And, for the moment, I have no plans to go anywhere for very long. My remaining here will, I hope, signal that I will take any activities against any of the Listeners quite badly. And some people do understand that when I take things badly that is not a pleasant state of affairs.

Stephen smiled. "Yes, I suspect they do. You will find that Cal gets over most things very quickly. Speaking of which, before I forget, though you didn't ask, Baz has a disk for you. And I have a...request."

"Ah, thank you for that. I was not going to trouble you with that. And your request?"

"It is possible that your interest in Dinah McNeill may have been noticed. Would it be possible for you to find out?"

"I will make discreet inquiries. Likewise with my less successful interest in your friend Lazslo. Should you need assistance keeping them safe, don't hesitate to ask. I'm sorry I might have put them in additional danger."

"Laszlo will take of himself, quite well in fact. It is a matter of pride for him. As it is for Dinah but I have less confidence there given the situation. So it may turn out that I will. Thank you."

"You are welcome. Now rest. Hide the bottle well, Stephen," Marc added handing Stephen the bottle which was mostly quite full. "I doubt Tommy is up to facing down Tabitha over it. Now rest, recover. Your people need you."

"Perhaps you should keep it. She has an uncanny nose for things."

Marc took the bottle back from Stephen and looked at it. "I will keep it for a serious bender when you are up to it. If you need me, you've but to call."