Pillsbury + 1 year:

[Sgt. Howard]

And Al must never, ever say the words "Push the button, Max!"

Good ol' Professor Fate!

You mean you haven't noticed that Greg looks ever-so-much like Peter Falk?

"MAAAAAAAAAAAXXXX!"

"Yes, Perfesser...coming Perfesser...."

Al's next personal project is duplicating the Hannibal 8.

I DO NOT!!! Besides, I have both my eyes (Peter Faulk lost his right eye in childhood) but yes, I've dreamed of such a car. They made two for the movie- a Gas powered one for most shots and an electric motored one for the elevating sequences. The Curtis 'Headless' Pusher is the project I wanted to build, however- they powered it with a standard lycomin engine and it actually was quite sweet to handle!

[GlytchMeister]

It was another week before Glytch began his tests - teleporting a single item was elementary. Teleporting a large number of individual, independent objects was also rather simple, given enough space between each object. The VORP system could, given a large enough power surge, teleport the entire human population into Rhode Island.

The problems started when things were close, and when they depended on one another, and things only got worse the more complicated the devices became. A clumsy subroutine had been written that treated small machines and devices as single objects, but it in actuality cut the object out of the fabric of reality along with a very thin layer of space around the device. This was how the VORP system could teleport Glytch's phone along with him.

This was all well and good for independent devices, but the moment Glytch tried to VORP his laptop with an extra monitor plugged in at the same time, the monitor came unplugged.

This wasn't that big of a deal - All Glytch had to do was plug the monitor back in. However, the complicated, expansive sound and power system Glytch needed to teleport needed to stay in one piece if he wanted to have the effect he desired.

It was very vexing. Phix happened to wander by and glanced in on Glytch's de-facto enclave; he had slowly been accumulating books regarding both general and special relativity, quantum mechanics, high-energy particles, string theory, and more. They towered over his head, and he had to borrow a ladder from a stout little janitor to reach the tops of the stacks.
"How are you reading those? Most of those textbooks aren't even from Earth, let alone in English."
"There's a wonderfully expansive section of the library dedicated to languages. I've simply written a swarm of crawlers to take the contents of each book I can't understand, find the translations, and cobble it back together in English. It's a bit ungainly, and I'm sure I'm missing out on the full meaning, but I've been reading so much material the gaps of one are filled in by another."
Phix blinked, then narrowed her eyes. "You're a very dangerous young man, Glytch."
Glytch's answering grin was like the sun coming up.
Disarmed, the academic Sphinx sat on her haunches, her spiked tail curling around her like that of a cat. "Aren't you worried some of this knowledge might trigger a break of one or two quarantines of the memories you just had wiped?"
Glytch dismissively waved a hand. "Nah. This is completely different stuff. I'm specifically avoiding anything involving the manipulation of souls, like the Akashic Records and Dark Matter and such."
Phix examined a claw, thinking carefully before speaking. "I'd avoid asking questions about Tina or Connie, in that case." She looked back at Glytch. "What exactly are you trying to do?"
"I'm trying to figure out how to VORP complex and expansive systems. I'm going to give your... Uh... Granddaughter?" Glytch faltered and looked up from the oscillating four-dimensional holographic graph he was studying.
"Yes, Shelly is my granddaughter."
"Right. I'm going to make sure the party is good and lively. A live band and DJ with a full load of sound equipment oughta do it. Might blow out a few windows, but I can pay for that."
Phix stared at the little crazy engineer ensconced in his fortress of books, completely baffled. "And that requires a more advanced understanding of the workings of the universe than Feynman, Hawking, and Einstein combined... How?"
"Because all I'm going to walk in with are the clothes on my back and my phone. Everything else will be VORPed in at the opportune moment."

A grin slowly crept across Phix's face as she understood. "You're going to run a shock-and-awe champaign with light and sound, aren't you?"
Glytch let out a mad giggle. "It might actually knock their socks off."
Phix shook her head in mock disbelief. "Let me give you a hint. The last person to try this found that the VORP engine produces an energy signature around the boundary of the displacement. That energy bleed interferes with nearby VORP's. If two objects were forced to VORP too close to one another, the boundaries fuse... As do the objects being displaced."
Glytch's eyes went wide. "Excess energy? I didn't think something this refined would waste power..."
"It's a bit like how transistors in computers have to run at high voltages... If the voltage is too low, it's too easy to cause a false positive, especially with other nearby transistors." Phix had an odd gleam in her eye as the two academics brainstormed.
"Ah, but there comes a point where the certainty of a single transistor requires so much power it is more efficient to use a host of less power-hungry synapses and put the 1/0 decision to vote. That's how the human brain works. There are occasional glitches, but it's better than everyone running around with their heads on fire." Glytch was standing now, the hologram completely forgotten, his words issuing in an energetic stream.
"The VORP engine is one of the most costly subsystems of the Library... Enhancing its capabilities would require a power source far greater and more unstable than what we have immediately available... A potential energy siphon around the core of a Red Hypergiant might be enough." Phix was also standing, her fangs and catlike markings on her nose on full display as her tail lashed back and forth enthusiastically. She leaned forward over Glytch's table, placing a massive hand on the sturdy oaken plinth.
Glytch leaned forward as well as he worked to keep up with Phix's massive intellect, refusing to be outdone. "Not if we build a more organic processing unit!" A wide grin split his face as he suddenly remembered something. "...and I've got just the program!"

At Glytch's apartment, a large box, containing a 100 terabyte assembly of hard drives, quite suddenly VORPed away.
This storage device contained a single file, compressed to within an inch of it's life: the file was a program, written to simulate a brain that could handle the combined hippocampi of an entire civilization.

Several floors of the modern server tower of the Library were quickly repurposed. A massive synthetic neural network was constructed, and Glytch was at the center of the whirling tempest of activity as he worked to re-write the Legion program. It was, of course, absolutely necessary to prevent it from becoming a conscious AI, but huge swaths of the program were perfectly suited for operating a neural network, saving Glytch months of coding. In the end, he finished the new program just as the last processor banks were slid into place.

The first test was a resounding success - Glytch risked his own phone for it. Instead of using the clumsy brick subroutine, the new and improved VORP system teleported every individual component of the phone without fusing a single atom. The phone didn't even suffer any glitches. After a while, the system was tested on organics, starting first with steaks, then moving on to mice... Then Glytch moved on to more strenuous tests. Before his alterations, the VORP system couldn't teleport a car, especially the more modern ones. So, naturally, Glytch got into his own Pontiac, fired up the engine, turned on the stereo, and began to drive forward, accelerating at a quick rate... Directly at a wall. Just before he hit, the VORP system was activated, teleporting him and the car to a backroad near Peoria. The engine didn't skip a beat, and the radio immediately began to play the local rock station.

Glytch was noisily celebrating in his car when Phix had him VORPed back to the Library.

[DinkyInky]

Oh Neil! Yer mate is geeking out in a sparky manner...and collaborating with the Glytch.

[Sgt. Howard]

Uh, Glytch... there's an irate ex-Centurion that wants a word with you...

[Dave]

I have a feeling our esteemed crew of authors are playing around with an even more "interesting" hyperbolic mix... chlorine trifluoride reacting with butanethiol.

You have no idea... Glytch is playing with the laws of physics again. The authors are currently having a discussion on how it will effect the story.

"Ulglossen was dabbling in polydimensional energy flows again.

"Do not try to understand Ulglossen. Ulglossen's time was - is - will be - three million years after Homo sapiens ruled Earth, and Ulglossen's species is no more to be understood by us than we could be understood by Australopithecus."

(from the opening of Frost and Thunder by Randall Garrett - one of my favorite stories by one of my favorite authors, may he RIP. I think Greg would like it as well, as it features a Colt Commander rebuilt by Pachmayr of Los Angeles, with a precision-fit slide, a BoMar adjustable combat rear sight, numerous other upgrades, and a hard-chrome coating for weather resistance. The pistol eventually receives a name.)

[GlytchMeister]

Uh, Glytch... there's an irate ex-Centurion that wants a word with you...

I'm up for a little chat with Neil. Whaddaya say we have our characters have a good, healthy debate, eh?

"Arguing with an engineer is a lot like wrestling in the mud with a pig. After a couple of hours you realize the pig likes it.

[jwhouk]

...and then May steps in, smacks him upside the head, and tells him, "THAT was how Bolethius ended up at the bottom of the OCEAN, you IDIOT."

[GlytchMeister]

...and then May steps in, smacks him upside the head, and tells him, "THAT was how Bolethius ended up at the bottom of the OCEAN, you IDIOT."

Whaaaat? I only reconfigured a bit of tech... I'm not seeking immortality or anything. I saw a problem and I fixed it! And this time, I didn't even break anything!

[Just Old Al]

Whaaaat? I only reconfigured a bit of tech... I'm not seeking immortality or anything. I saw a problem and I fixed it! And this time, I didn't even break anything!

YET.

[Just Old Al]

A few days after her initial interview Ari was back at Alexander Harvesters’ personnel office. From what she had heard from the people she’d listed as references they’d been contacted, and questioned pretty thoroughly about her and her habits.

From the fact she’d been asked back, however, it seemed that she’d done something right.

Again, she sat in the front office till Constance was ready to see her, and then was met at the office door. Constance again shook her hand warmly and motioned her to a seat, and as usual came right to the point.

“Miss Wardoff, we talked to your references, and they had nothing but good things to say about you. As a next step I’d like to talk to the gentleman whose facility you’ll be providing security for – a Mr. Richer.

This is an unusual facility as it is not nominally part of the AHI family. Mr. Richer runs an independent business from Building 2, on both the government contract and the public-facing sides. You will be responsible for the government-contract side’s security primarily– the other side is public facing and what security it needs for guests will be dealt with by the gate guards who will control access to the campus. Of course, if there is any kind of an emergency on the other side you will be expected to step in, though we don’t expect it. Mr. Richer’s civilian customers are a pretty relaxed bunch – antique machinery and old British cars don’t tend to make people go off the deep end.

Any questions?”

Ari shook her head, and Constance continued.

“Now, let me tell you a little about him before we go down to the facility. Al (and he will likely ask you to call him that – NEVER call him sir or you will get yelled at) is a retired British sergeant-major. He’s a gentleman of the old school and expects that you will be a lady – he dislikes sloppy modern manners.

However, I will warn you that he is a bit…odd, and you’ll see this yourself I’m sure. He has a partner down there – a Mr. Howard, who is also a military man - a retired sergeant from the US Army. When the two of them are down there – and Mr. Howard is in at least two or three times a week – they will argue – and it will get LOUD. Whatever you do, don’t get in the middle and just let them argue. They like it, and it’s kind of entertainment for them. Just ignore it.

One thing to not talk about is the fight that happened at the Pillsbury facility back in December – both of them were there and heavily involved.”

Justin Bieber, Justin Bieber, Justin Bieber……

“If there aren’t any questions why don’t we wander down there.” They both donned their coats and headed out of the office, catching a shuttle tram toward the main production facility.

Building 2 was an anachronism in among the brick and metal, windowless plant buildings. Constructed of red brick in a nearly Victorian style, the outside of the building was columns of brick separated by nearly floor-to-ceiling grids of small square windows. The roof of the facility, like older industrial buildings, was made up of a series of skylights oriented to catch the prevailing light and funnel it down into the building. One half of the windows in the building – the front half – were clear, and machinery and equipment could be seen inside. The other half showed blacked out windows, and Ari suspected this was the half that did the government work.

They went inside through a personnel door let into the main bay door. When inside Ari was taken by both the cleanliness of the facility and the rock and roll being played at mind-numbing levels.

Constance called out “Hey, AL! Got someone here to meet you!”

A set of legs rolled out from under a partially-disassembled Land-Rover, and with them came the slightly tubby body of an older gentleman, clad in a ball cap and military coveralls. Wiping his hands on a shop towel he walked over to the pair, stopping at a bench to pick up a remote and reduce the volume level of the music to bearable levels.

“Hello, Constance – lovely to see you, as always. Is this the young lady who’s going to take over security for the back shop?”

"Yes, it is. I'll let her introduce herself."

“I’m Ari Wardoff, sir..” Damnit. Ooops.

“Ari, please don’t call me sir. I work for a living. I'm Al Richer - Al will do nicely – I am not interested in formality. Why don’t we go sit in my office – Constance, you are coming along as well? Bravo.”

Leading the way to a staircase to the upper level, Al and the two ladies walked up the stairs to the office area suspended above the shop floor. Halfway up was a landing, and Al stopped there for a moment.

“From here you can see my humble domain.”

The vehicle doors led into a workshop area, with portable benches and colour-coded roll-arounds of regular and specialty tools. Between the workshop area and the wall they were climbing was a set of parking bays, empty except for a wine delivery truck and a very fancy English sportscar.

Under the office on the floor was an array of machine tools –Ari couldn’t tell what they did but she could recognize them. A full-height wall split the building in half – this contained an airlock door with a security booth in front of it, and a heavily built double door. These were the only openings.

“I’m sure you can make out the general layout, here. The machine tools to the back here, the vehicle bays and the service and repair areas. I keep a forklift around the place for moving things – no need to do it by hand.”

“What’s that structure at the back there?”

“Good question, and well spotted! That is a firing range – my partner Mr. Howard and I do some custom weapons work here on both sides of the shop, and this gives us a place to test smaller items – very convenient.

Your responsibilities don’t extend to this shop except in an emergency. You will be responsible for controlling access to the back shop – that security setup over there. You will never enter that shop however – that is for me, Mr. Howard and those of our associates that are pre-cleared with you via AHI Security or me. You will never allow anyone in that is not pre-cleared as a security measure – this prevents access under duress.

That rule is inviolable.”

With that, they walked up into the old plant office – and Ari was surprised. Instead of the grungy old office she expected this was bright, tidy and very well-decorated with artwork on the walls and heavy, well-built antique office furniture. Al offered coffee and tea, and then the three of them sat, with Al behind his desk.

Over the next hour Al ever-so-politely grilled Ari, first over her background, then about previous security work she’d done, finishing up with a piercing set of what-if and how-would-you-handle questions that left her feeling drained.

Several times she’d felt herself slipping away and fell back on the Bieber defense – though it became easier and easier to stay focused as Al’s questions challenged her.

After this, Constance and Al excused themselves into another room, leaving Ari to relax from the grilling.

“Well, Al – what do you think?”

“Sharp young woman – insightful, and hardly stupid. Seemed to have a focus issue early on, though as I pressed her it went away and she tightened right up on her interaction. I think she’ll do nicely – if she held up under the pressing I did she should be able to keep her cool as a guardian here.”

“I can work with her – though she’s going to have some trouble getting used to the level of oddness around here, I suspect.”

Constance nodded. “I agree with your assessment – she’ll do nicely. Try not to scare this one off, though – I realize you and Greg love to argue, but turn it down for the first week or two. This isn’t a done deal, though - we still need to get back her background check, but that won’t be long.”

With that, they returned to Al’s office, and Constance and Ari went off to return to the main offices, and Al back to his rebuild.

[Sgt. Howard]

The two returned to the Howard estate a little smelling of burnt powder. Jet had settled on the CZ P-06, being the most powerful thing she could control reliably while it also is a small tidy package- the double action trigger appealed to her once she understood the advantage of it in a semi-auto. Greg would return the pistol to it's proper owner in the morning- Washington will not approve an out-of-state pistol purchase to Minnesota, and Kim refused Greg another 'straw purchase' against his FFL (which is her right, btw,).
Jet would simply have to purchase the piece in her home state.
Guns cleaned, put away, Annie spread out the shepherd's pie filled with fresh venison, onions, mushrooms, bell peppers, carrots and string beans- the meat from a trade for Greg's services on a model 1895 Marlin and the rest out of Annie's garden. Jet put away about half of it, to Greg and Annie's astonishment, then asked for the recipe. Greg then escorted her ... to the outhouse.
"So... you think Bianchi might have a shoulder rig for the CZ?" Jet asked.
"Likely- even so, hiding one on your slender frame might be a challenge,"
"Annie packs that .44 Magnum- that's nota small piece,"
"She has a purse with a holster stitched into it- you never know it's there unless you know where to look. She can get it out fast enough,"
"Well, Mr. Howard- I believe this is the outhouse I'm looking for,"
"Yes it is... and keep your lips to yourself, young lady! I don't need to explain this to Miss Annie that ain't my doings," he warned as Jet zeroed in on his face.
"Why, Mr. Howard! I Never," she attempted innocence.
"Right... and pigs fly," he rejoined. She stepped into the outhouse and connected with the library to make the trip home. Greg returned to his ever-lovin', grinning that a supermodel would flirt with him... and thankful that Annie didn't witness it...

[Just Old Al]

Annie and I need to discuss shepherd's pie recipes. i like leftover pot roast in mine, but the vegie mix is a new one on me...

[Just Old Al]

AAAAAand back to the story...

Al was finding his stride again.

After the tumultuous months of rebuilding the shop both front and back in AHI Building 2, the frantic pace of building New Alexander House and the tumultuous repairs to Old Alexander House, life was finally settling.

Al was spending long days at the plant between the front and back shops – the backlog of repairs and rebuilds on the antique car front, coupled with the MIB research projects interrupted by the moron with the bomb were all back on track. Al had even brought in a few retired AHI mechanics to help in the front shop, to give him the time he needed to work on the research projects in the back.

Couple that with having a family again, and his days were busy, fulfilled and never dull. His life, his loves, and his vocations were all meshing in perfect symmetry.

All was well, and he was thoroughly enjoying his new shop. While a solitary individual for most of his retired life, his marriage and acquisition of an extended family had caused major changes in his outlook – he liked having people around now.

Especially people who made his life easier.

Ari Wardoff had gone far beyond being a passive security person and had de-facto taken over his scheduling for the back shop – and become the liaison between the front and back shops. With her present Al had to do nothing about his visitors – the civilians were dealt with by the gate guards at the entrance to the campus, and the back shop visitors were all pre-cleared with Ari either by plant security or by Al in advance.

No exceptions – this was Al’s policy. He’d had issues at his old shop with people trying to force entry – and those did not end well for the forcers. Even before the vendetta the police of Minneapolis were more than familiar with him – and he’d had enough of it.

So – no exceptions.

This, however, did not account for the unforseen, a fact Al had not taken into consideration.

Out in the front shop instructing one of his mechanics in the procedure for replacing Austin-Healey kingpin bushings, he started when the alarm for the back shop went off, Dropping what he was doing with a muttered word of apology, Al headed for the door to the back shop, shouting to Ari to “Open it up!” as he trotted by. She hit the button, and the airlock door opened.

Al ran in, and as the outer door closed he hit the cycle button for the inner door. Even as it opened Al was in and through and heading for the secure phone warbling REM’s most famous tune.

“Al here – what’s up? You guys haven’t pushed the panic button in oh, at least five minutes.”

“Senior Agent Geezer – got a problem – two guys headed in with an item that’s got to go into an isolation tank fast. Need your help – can do?”

“Surely – though you call me a geezer one more time and there WILL be a disturbance in the Force. This isn’t another nuclear item, is it?”

“No – bio. Not immediately dangerous, but the packaging has an issue. You have replacement packaging and can swap – but they need an isolation area to do it in. You’re the closest place with this and we figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Don’t mind in the slightest – glad to help. I’ll go meet them and walk them in.”

Al headed back out through the airlock, mind focused on the problem walking in his door. He sprinted across the shop, jumped into the Rover and headed for the main gate, to return a few minutes later with the gentlemen.

He pulled the truck back into its parking space and let the gentlemen crammed into the passenger seats out, and extracted their two Haliburton cases from the back door. With that, the three of them walked across the front shop to the access Ari controlled, and Al called “Open it up!”

The door stayed stubbornly closed.

“Ari, open the airlock door please – we need to access the back shop.”

“No. Protocol states that all visitors to the secure area have to be pre-cleared either via the front gate security or directly by you – and not with them present. Standard policy, Al – yours.”

“Ari, this is important – open the door please, These gentlemen have a time-sensitive issue they need to deal with – a dangerous one. We need in and we need it now.”

“Can’t do it, Al. Your protocols state specifically that you are not allowed to override this in case of duress. I cannot let you in.”

“Oh, bugger this.” Al’s irritation and concern overrode his common sense. He strode to the back of the security area and reached for the controls. Ari, realizing what was happening, grabbed his arm and attempted to twist him away. Al stood steadfast, at which point Ari changed her tactic and drove the elbow of her right arm deep into the pit of Al’s stomach.

With a loud wheeze Al backpedaled, bounced off the wall and dropped to the floor on his back. Quick as a flash Ari was out of her seat and standing over him, pistol held two-handed in a steady aim at Al’s right shoulder. Realizing the other two were there as well, she began to swing her weapon up to cover them.

As she moved Al swung his left leg up between her arms, knocking the pistol free of her clenched hands, then grabbed her legs behind the knees and pulled.

Ari hit the floor in a flurry of curses, and tried to roll to regain her feet – but Al was quicker and in a far higher state of practice. Flipping her over he knelt in the small of her back and grabbed her hands, yelling at his visitors to grab him ty-raps from the electrical cart nearby.

With her wrists and ankles secured he rolled her onto her side and said “Sorry dear, but this is a dangerous situation. You did your job properly, and I will need to adjust that policy – but not now. I sincerely apologize for this - all of this is my fault.”

“Harrison, will you cut her loose once we’re through the airlock? You’ll need to stay out here to operate it – I need to be in there for the security protocols to work. We’ll be back out in a few minutes, there’s a good lad.” With those words, he showed Harrison how to operate the door controls, and Al and the other gentleman sprinted for the door with the Haliburtons.

Lying on the floor on her side, Ari burned with the shame of having been bested by an elderly gentleman – military career notwithstanding – and something of a far more visceral nature from having been bested by a male.

The first burn faded, but the second grew even as Harrison cut her loose and helped her back into her chair. Eyes dilating, pulse quickening, breath coming a bit faster and a flush on her cheeks, she eagerly awaited Al’s exit from the back shop.

[GlytchMeister]

Glytch was busy studying the plans for Kromwulf's changes to Old Castle Alexander when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. A buzzing in the back of his mind distracted him, and he looked up from the large sheet of paper and stared around.
For some reason, he began to feel the effects of adrenaline as it was released into his system.
Alert for danger, Glytch managed to hear an impossibly quiet footstep on the carpet behind him. Someone was trying to sneak up on him.
Nudge must be trying to be funny... Glytch thought, shrugging and pretending to refocus on his project.
Another footfall... Closer this time. Glytch breathed in slowly and exploded from his chair, vaulting over the table and twisting midair to face the sneaky person behind him.
A strong hand caught his ankle, however, throwing him completely off balance and slamming him roughly into the table on his side. Glytch rolled and managed to writhe out of the attacker's grip and scrambled to the other side of the table. As soon as he stood up, he was face-to-face with a very angry-looking Cornelius Gaius Antonia.
"GAH!" Glytch jumped backward, but was held firm by the collar of his shirt. Neil's strength and speed far outstripped that of Glytch's... As did his fighting technique.
Can't run away from him, he's too fast... Can't fight, obviously... I guess I'd better think my way out of this.
Glytch froze and met Neil's eyes. "Um. Hi, how are ya?"
"I would have thought with all of your intellect, you would be smarter than to try to consort with another man's happily married wife." His voice was deceptively calm, and his eyes were an visage of perfectly controlled rage. The only clue to the immensity of the centurion's towering rage was the rapid pulsing of the tiny blood vessels in his eyes.
"Uhhh..." Glytch resisted the urge to start looking for escape routes. "Say again?"
"That stunt you pulled the other day with Phix? Just what exactly did you think you were doing?"
Glytch blinked a few times. "Phix and I talked a bit about the VORP system. What do you think I was doing?"
"I was told you were flirting outrageously with her."
"Ah. You were told. By any chance did these rumors mention me pinning her?"
Now it was Neil's turn to blink. "Well, no..."
Glytch looked very pointedly at Neil's hand, which was still gripping Glytch's shirt. Neil let go, clearing his throat and making a show of smoothing out the wrinkles he'd made. "I think you may want to talk to Nudge. This stinks of goat."
Neil narrowed his eyes. "It does, doesn't it? Where'd I put that list of recipes..."

[Warrl]

Annie and I need to discuss shepherd's pie recipes. i like leftover pot roast in mine, but the vegie mix is a new one on me...

I simply declare it a wandering shepherd's pie. So if I feel like throwing in water chestnuts or bamboo shoots, no problem.

Although it really shouldn't be called shepherd's pie if it's made with a meat not from sheep... but I'm not that much of a purist either.

(I was once extremely disappointed by an Irish&Cajun restaurant... I was hoping to find out what Thibodeaux would do with the concept of shepherd's pie. Or maybe some shrimp jambalaya Kilkenny. Nope. They had Irish dishes, and they had Cajun dishes, but absolutely no mixing. Apparently the community shared my dissatisfaction, because they didn't last two years.)

[Sgt. Howard]

Glytch was busy studying the plans for Kromwulf's changes to Old Castle Alexander when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. A buzzing in the back of his mind distracted him, and he looked up from the large sheet of paper and stared around.
For some reason, he began to feel the effects of adrenaline as it was released into his system.
Alert for danger, Glytch managed to hear an impossibly quiet footstep on the carpet behind him. Someone was trying to sneak up on him.
Nudge must be trying to be funny... Glytch thought, shrugging and pretending to refocus on his project.
Another footfall... Closer this time. Glytch breathed in slowly and exploded from his chair, vaulting over the table and twisting midair to face the sneaky person behind him.
A strong hand caught his ankle, however, throwing him completely off balance and slamming him roughly into the table on his side. Glytch rolled and managed to writhe out of the attacker's grip and scrambled to the other side of the table. As soon as he stood up, he was face-to-face with a very angry-looking Cornelius Gaius Antonia.
"GAH!" Glytch jumped backward, but was held firm by the collar of his shirt. Neil's strength and speed far outstripped that of Glytch's... As did his fighting technique.
Can't run away from him, he's too fast... Can't fight, obviously... I guess I'd better think my way out of this.
Glytch froze and met Neil's eyes. "Um. Hi, how are ya?"
"I would have thought with all of your intellect, you would be smarter than to try to consort with another man's happily married wife." His voice was deceptively calm, and his eyes were an visage of perfectly controlled rage. The only clue to the immensity of the centurion's towering rage was the rapid pulsing of the tiny blood vessels in his eyes.
"Uhhh..." Glytch resisted the urge to start looking for escape routes. "Say again?"
"That stunt you pulled the other day with Phix? Just what exactly did you think you were doing?"
Glytch blinked a few times. "Phix and I talked a bit about the VORP system. What do you think I was doing?"
"I was told you were flirting outrageously with her."
"Ah. You were told. By any chance did these rumors mention me pinning her?"
Now it was Neil's turn to blink. "Well, no..."
Glytch looked very pointedly at Neil's hand, which was still gripping Glytch's shirt. Neil let go, clearing his throat and making a show of smoothing out the wrinkles he'd made. "I think you may want to talk to Nudge. This stinks of goat."
Neil narrowed his eyes. "It does, doesn't it? Where'd I put that list of recipes..."

My favorite involves honey mustard marinade after you tenderize it on an anvil... don't forget the shallots and mushrooms...

[Just Old Al]

The phone rang in Phix’s office – a surprising instance. She picked it up, to be greeted by a squawking voice that was barely recognizable as Al.

“Phix, dear, need to speak to the General – is he about?”

“Should be back in a minute – this sounds important, can I help, ducks?”

“Nooooooo I don’t think so – need male advice on this…I am in a bit of a dither. Can you have him call me, please?”

“Certainly – I’ll call him on his cell and have him call you.”

A short while later Neil was awaiting Al in the atrium of the Library, as was a rather confused Sarge who had gotten a similarly panicked call.

“I have had an awful problem this afternoon.” Al went on to describe the situation that had happened with the unauthorized visitors and his own botched handling of it.

“In short, I blew it. However, I was not going to let her stop me from getting into the shop – that packaging wasn’t going to last while I got authorization clearance from the gate and everything else.”

Neil considered the situation. “Al, yes, you blew it. Apologize profusely, buy her flowers, and accept that you blew it and fix your damn policies.”

“Already fixed the policy – but this isn’t the weird part of it. When I came out of the back shop Ari was all over me – practically climbed up me and was very…enthusiastic…in her embrace.”

“WHAT!?” Both Sarge and Neil sat forward and looked at Al intently.

“You heard me – she hit me like the face-hugger in the movie “Alien”. I peeled her off – the MIB chaps were amazed at what happened – and I ran for it under the guise of taking them back to the main gate. Stuffed the both of them and their cases into the Vanquish and ran for it, I did.”

Neil stopped dead, struck by a thought. “Al, this sounds familiar. This young lady is of what species? Is she a sphinx hybrid or something similar? This sounds remarkably like a mating battle result.”

“Neil, I don’t believe she is. She’s just a nice kid who Alexander hired to do security for my back shop, no more. Near as I know Ari is completely human.”

“What was that name again?”

“Ari. Ari Wardoff.”

“Does she have two sisters?”

“Why, yes, I do believe she does. She mentioned them in passing.”

Neil sat right back in his chair, head back. At first his laughter was nearly inaudible, the small movements barely noticeable. The movements grew and grew, till he was bellowing out loud at a full throated roar.

Greg and Al looked at each other – neither had a clue whatsoever why Neil was laughing – and the laughter certainly was not infectious.

Finally, Neil slowed and stopped, hiccupping and wiping his eyes.

“Al, by all the gods you are the only person in the world who could manage to have luck like this. How you have survived to your present age amazes me – you are a magnet for the unlikely.”

“All right, then – would you care to explain exactly what is going on?”

“Hang on – before I say anything I need to check something.” Neil pulled out his phone, hit a speed dial combination, and waited for the connection.

“Phix – Neil. What were the names of the apos that got stranded in the Twin Cities as punishment for the nonsense at our wedding?...... Now, those aren’t names…no, I really need to know....... OK, thanks. Love you too. Back in a few minutes and I’m bringing Al and Greg – and I have a story for you.”

“Al, you hit a million to one shot. The young woman you hired is actually an apotropaic sphinx – one of the ones that caused problems at our wedding back a while ago. Not sure if you heard about that – but they tried to kill us and most of the other guests.

For their punishment they were given amnesia of all things Sphinx and stranded in Minneapolis in human guise. However, they are sphinx through and through.

Hate to say this – but you just got married – again. Now, we need to go see Phix and figure out how to get you divorced again without getting you shot by your dam.”

[lake_wrangler]

I was enjoying the read all along, and I knew Ari was one of the punished sphinxes... but I didn't expect the instinct to still be there, and for that situation to end up prompting the mating instinct in her! That is simply hilarious!

[GlytchMeister]

Glytch looked back up from the blueprints he was studying, his focus temporarily broken by... Laughing? Someone was laughing so loud the echoes were making it to his little fortress of physics textbooks.
After listening for a moment, he shrugged and returned to his work.

Five minutes later, just as he was getting back into the rhythm, his phone buzzed. "Ugh, what now?" Glytch muttered irritably as he fished the device from his pocket.
It was an alert from one of the crawler swarms Glytch had created back at Old Castle Alexander. I haven't heard from you in a while... He opened the alert and looked at the patterns. Criminal chatter was showing a trend of forewarning - small-time crooks were telling all of their buddies to stay far away from a mysterious homeless war veteran... And the path the warning took went from the west cost directly to Mapimi, then traced the path Nodaki had taken on his bloody trip north to the Twin Cities. MIB was also spewing memos regarding some kind of paranormal creature that was taking the guise of a vet on the same path. Glytch sent an email with his data to Lily, unsure of what to do about the situation.

On a tropical island in the Bermuda Triangle, Lily sipped from a mimosa as she watched Castela playing in the surf. Her phone, buried in her backpack, gave a muffled ding!
Lily lazily glanced at her bag, shrugged, and returned her focus on her granddaughter and her drink.
"... Meh."

[FreeFlier]

--FreeFlier