"Norm"

[austintorn@aol.com]

Now on Bora-Bora, the couple sat with the birds at the dinner table who hoped for crumbs, the slight tropical slant of sunset twilight heading the ‘other’ way from that accustomed in the north. Yet the sun still plummeted quickly as it does in the tropical regions.

Their thoughts turned to the event of the fallen agent in Egypt and so they asked for a third glass, placing it upside down on the table, and made a toast to the valiant one, the first being of Omar’s saying, then two of their own:

And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on The Grass,
And in Thy joyous Errand reach the Spot
Where I made one--turn down an empty Glass!

— Worthless and Priceless —

All the world’s wealth cannot extend the power
That drains the cup and withers the flower.
What would be the price of a moment’s breath
Purchased from Death’s hand at the final hour?

— A Rebirth of Sorts —

I turn the cup: wine-drops to thirsty lips descend—
Can Old Fredrick rise anew, like spring grass ascend?
Mournful rose petals kiss his grave, hence he a-rose!
Now he lives again in the heart of his friend.

While they looked off into inner space and considered their own mortality for a moment, an encrypted text message came in from Magic Dragon:

Your dearly departed friend most surely walks the Earth again, as had been rumored. He was revived within the pyramid via some fumes from ancient times that were administered by a 3000-year-old Queen of the Nile from Nubia. Am looking into it. I just had to tell someone. Like phantoms from the tomb, his lamp relumes. Best to you. —MD

Well, they nearly fell out their chairs, as night turned to day within them, coming up with another toast after a few minutes of the absorption this awakening news, Secret Top picking up the empty glass and filling it with wine:

— Revival —

Then a few drops she poured onto the ground,
That precious drink of these quatrains profound—
It through the soil trickled and seeped,
As to his thirsty lips the way it found.

Then another toast to one another as the stars came out:

— Love’s Incense —

You’re the elixir that fills my cup,
The scent on the breezes that lifts me up—
You’re love’s essence, distilled into being,
The passion-spirit that opens me up.

A special aroma seemed to arise from the glass as they drank it— the Persa-fumes of another ancient one who now walked the skies with an houri at his side.

Your spirit wanders ’long the Persian way
With an houri, life’s moments drank away,
In some sweet wood, far from the noise of day—
Where with her you yet live, sing, laugh, and play.

Through the Rubàiyàt, I sense enchantment,
Essence distilled by the translator’s scent;
Recomposed from Khayyàm’s dust and spirit,
Potent elixirs escape interment!


— A Splash of Verse —

The fumes of ageless rhyme from ancient times
Waft from the Persian verse, as some chimes
New are mixed with the spirit of the old,
Deftly transmogrified for Victorian climes.


Here on the summer grass where you made one,
We turn down our cups—the feasting begun:
With earth’s food and heaven’s drink we toast you:
On this sacred tropic lawn, we make ONE.

[Tarina]

Now on Bora-Bora, the couple sat with the birds at the dinner table who hoped for crumbs, the slight tropical slant of sunset twilight heading the ‘other’ way from that accustomed in the north. Yet the sun still plummeted quickly as it does in the tropical regions.

Their thoughts turned to the event of the fallen agent in Egypt and so they asked for a third glass, placing it upside down on the table, and made a toast to the valiant one, the first being of Omar’s saying, then two of their own:

And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on The Grass,
And in Thy joyous Errand reach the Spot
Where I made one--turn down an empty Glass!

— Worthless and Priceless —

All the world’s wealth cannot extend the power
That drains the cup and withers the flower.
What would be the price of a moment’s breath
Purchased from Death’s hand at the final hour?

— A Rebirth of Sorts —

I turn the cup: wine-drops to thirsty lips descend—
Can Old Fredrick rise anew, like spring grass ascend?
Mournful rose petals kiss his grave, hence he a-rose!
Now he lives again in the heart of his friend.

While they looked off into inner space and considered their own mortality for a moment, an encrypted text message came in from Magic Dragon:

Your dearly departed friend most surely walks the Earth again, as had been rumored. He was revived within the pyramid via some fumes from ancient times that were administered by a 3000-year-old Queen of the Nile from Nubia. Am looking into it. I just had to tell someone. Like phantoms from the tomb, his lamp relumes. Best to you. —MD

Well, they nearly fell out their chairs, as night turned to day within them, coming up with another toast after a few minutes of the absorption this awakening news, Secret Top picking up the empty glass and filling it with wine:

— Revival —

Then a few drops she poured onto the ground,
That precious drink of these quatrains profound—
It through the soil trickled and seeped,
As to his thirsty lips the way it found.

Then another toast to one another as the stars came out:

— Love’s Incense —

You’re the elixir that fills my cup,
The scent on the breezes that lifts me up—
You’re love’s essence, distilled into being,
The passion-spirit that opens me up.

A special aroma seemed to arise from the glass as they drank it— the Persa-fumes of another ancient one who now walked the skies with an houri at his side.

Your spirit wanders ’long the Persian way
With an houri, life’s moments drank away,
In some sweet wood, far from the noise of day—
Where with her you yet live, sing, laugh, and play.

Through the Rubàiyàt, I sense enchantment,
Essence distilled by the translator’s scent;
Recomposed from Khayyàm’s dust and spirit,
Potent elixirs escape interment!

— A Splash of Verse —

The fumes of ageless rhyme from ancient times
Waft from the Persian verse, as some chimes
New are mixed with the spirit of the old,
Deftly transmogrified for Victorian climes.

Here on the summer grass where you made one,
We turn down our cups—the feasting begun:
With earth’s food and heaven’s drink we toast you:
On this sacred tropic lawn, we make ONE.

To fredrick this cup flows, through the grapes his life flows, the rumour is true, who says you
being who we are Austin, lets go and get our man, leave no one behind...

[austintorn@aol.com]

The waves were rough in the harbor as Questor and Top Secret landed unobserved, noting the site of the once great Library of Alexandria that had met several burning and other disasters, setting the world back at least a thousand years.

The first known library of its kind to gather a serious collection of books from beyond its country's borders, the Library at Alexandria was charged with collecting all the world's knowledge. It did so through an aggressive and well-funded royal mandate involving trips to the book fairs of Rhodes and Athens and a (potentially apocryphal or exaggerated) policy of pulling the books off every ship that came into port, keeping the originals and returning copies to their owners. This detail is informed by the fact that Alexandria, because of its man-made bidirectional port between the mainland and the Pharos island, welcomed trade from the East and West, and soon found itself the international hub for trade, as well as the leading producer of papyrus and, soon enough, books.

Section 4, a DIA group of international looking assassins, had been quickly dispatched to Alexandria. The General followed, for Fredrick had uncovered a plot to render the Suez canal inoperative, plus other actions unknown.

As luck would have it for the DIA, the conspirators were meeting in a hotel to finalize their plans. Fredrick placed a call to his foes there, saying that he had just returned from the dead, describing them all and the activities that had lead up to his demise, and that he was outside standing across the street for their verification.

The word spread quickly and they pulled open the drapes, startled to see that it was indeed Fredrick come back to life. Whilst they stood astonished, murmuring that he had had no pulse, Fredrick quickly moved behind Pompeii's Pillar, the only ancient structure that remained sanding in Alexandria. Word of the conspirators’ meeting room number was already quickly sent to the other half of Section 4 that was already in the hotel. Some even stepped out onto the balcony

The conspirators’ eyes went to Fredrick, now behind the pillar, he sticking out his fedora, saying, “From Heaven’s heart I step on you”, a curse meaning more that it sounded to, in this part of the world. Ancient history took a slight beating of pockmarks just before the Section 4 assassins opened fire, their other half doing the same from within the hotel and attempting secure the plans of the plots.

A freak ricochet caught Comander Magic Dragon in the chest as he stood shielded in a doorway, no apparent harm being done by its impact; however, it somehow triggered a cascade leading to heart failure for the grand and aging man and he soon fell to the ground, his color draining rapidly. Precious moments passed before Fredrick could get over there, Questor and Top Secret, having been given positions as backups, provided a burst of cover fire.

Finally there was the silence in the hotel that indicated death or great injury to all the conspirators and so the DIA agents gathered around Fredrick and the great and legendary 7 star General.

He was fading fast, everyone’s eyes growing dim and downcast at his propsects. “Try this,” Fredrick suggested, as he pulled out an ancient looking vial. The General inhaled the air obtained from the pyramid and a fine color blush soon replaced the pale that he had nearly gone beyond.

“Ah,” said Magic Dragon, as he pretty much leapt up from the ground on his own, “it was just a scratch!” He furthermore added that “None of this ever happened”.

There was a ship in the harbor waiting, but it was now too dangerous to use it, the local police all having unaccountably having gathered there for the mere overturning of a donut truck.

The operatives scattered and regrouped on a deserted desert road whilst the police ate their donut desserts at the sea shore—and the conspirators lay dead as their own just desserts. A necessary risk, the jet had just landed and awaited.

Later, in flight, Fredrick revealed another precious find, the only ancient book that had survived the Alexandria Library, ‘ونظرا لسرعة والميتص' this being of the nature of ‬‘The Quickness of Being and the Dead’, where ‘quick’ was anciently used to mean alive, but, in another definition it was a pun of the arabic language, such as in ‘The Quick and the Dead.’

It had this picture on the cover:




The General raised up a toast to the Queen of Nubia:

“We did little, for she planned it all!”

…

Questor and Top Secret returned to Tahiti. The General went for a heart checkup. The doctor was amazed at the man’s glorious state of health.

[austintorn@aol.com]

Please read and destroy

[austintorn@aol.com]

Questor and Top Secret had settled in French Polynesia, now calling it home, although their work was still the DIA when necessary. They lived simple, not needing much. If the planet ever came to a disaster, they were ready, even having their own island. There were frequent visits from the friends they had made on the other islands. In between, there was ToeQuest.

Living for Nearly Free:

Find a tolerable climate in a land with open or free areas.
Bring a laptop, a charging method, and find an internet.
Get a real and sturdy tent or build of wood.

No mailbox needed. Internet is mailbox.
No phone needed. Internet is phone.
Bike or small motorcycle is optional for travel.

Grow or find what you can.
Water nearby.

No utility bills.
No TV. Internet is TV.

Friends/social life:
Whoever you bring or comes around;
all others on ToeQuest.

No job but survival.
No taxes.
School is internet.

Of course,
some of the above may be optional,
like school.

Tropical perfumes scent the breeze.

For exercise, we pedal the wheel
While charging our laptop.

We bring water from the stream
And pour it into the barrel
When there is no rainwater.

The winds are breathing low.
I’ve just arisen, along with you,
From the sweet sleep of night.

Worldy concerns fail,
Like thoughts in a dream.

Our spirit has led us here.

Thy love and kisses reign—
In my heart and upon my lips.

One day, Magic Dragon himself paid Questor and Top Secret a visit, several weeks after the Egyptian Escapade, as it had become known, entering their Eden of Paradisea to see it for himself.

“Not bad,” encouraged the General, “great, actually.” Perhaps I shall obtain one of these retreats some day, maybe even soon, for a catastrophic disaster looms in Switzerland.”

They did not need to ask about that which he was about to tell them when he was ready to.

“Good to see that you still walk the Earth, General.”

“Thanks for your service to me in Alexandria.”

“Our pleasure, General.”

“I was nearly a goner.”

“Fredrick gave his only vial to you, sir, rather than saving it for himself should he die again.”

“Duly noted, and now Fredrick is a 3 star DIA General in charge of the new forming middle-east quagmire, although he may not consider that a promotion, ha-ha. I needed to delegate some work, as well.”

“And the Queen of Nubia?”

“Well, she helped us, so we must respect her privacy. The world would build a road to her door if they knew she could reverse death itself.”

“Agreed.”

“However, it only works on the nearly or the newly dead, not on the really really dead.”

“I thought so.”

“Yes, Elvis has left the building.”

“Good one, sir General, plus Napoleon will never reign again.”

“Thankfully.”

“But there will be new wishful dictators.”

“True. Questor, you grew up in Illinois, you once told me.”

“Just outside of Chicago.”

“Ever been to the town of Batavia?”

“Yes, in 1972. I took a ride on my motorcycle to see the famous prairies and then continued on to see the newly built collider called the Tevatron, at Fermilab.”

“And what did you see?”

“I saw wild corn, geese, and even buffalo roaming at the site.”

“Yes, it is a flatland wilderness of much wildlife. The good view of its outlying areas serves as a fine protection from any nefarious planers.”

“True, and it produces 1,000 GeV—a whole TeV of energetic beams of protons and antiprotons that smash together at two collision points, one that tracks the effects and one that measures the energy.”

“And in 1995, they found the heavyweight top quark, probably its first appearance in the universe since the Big Bang, although it didn’t last long.”

“It decayed into a bottom quark and a W charged gauge boson that communicates the weak force, which then of course decayed into leptons or quarks—but all that was its signature.”

“Yes, and it was formerly hard to find. They would have had to sift through ten trillion collision events to find it, but for Lisa Randal who developed a more precise way to interpret experimental results about weak reactions. Then they only had to sift through a hundred thousand reports.”

“I have a feeling that we will be talking to her.”

“You may. Now she is at the Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire, as it was first called.”

“CERN.”

“Now they call it Organisation Européenne pour la Recherche Nucléaire.”

“OERN?”

“No, they still call it CERN, although they might have called it CORN. The World Wide Web was invented there, too.”

“Perhaps Al Gore worked there?”

“Ha. Not exactly. Anyway, Lisa has noted a new anomaly coming from somewhere outside. They solved two of these anomalies previously on their own back at LEP, the Large Electron-Positron collider that churns out Z bosons like a ‘factory’.”

“Instead of taking Zzzzs, they needed to know the energy at which positrons and electrons collided so that they could measure the boson, so they could then go on to validate much of the standard model.”

“Yes, they had to determine the precise value of the Z boson’s mass; however, the energy seemed to rise and fall slightly when they measured it at particular times.”

“Weather, rainfall?”

“Close, it turned out to be the effects of tides in Lake Geneva.”

“This in turn altered the nearby terrain, which slightly altered the distance over which the electrons and positrons traveled inside the collider.”

“Indeed. They have incredible precision. The second case was a slight misalignment of the electrons and positrons, indicating that the magnetic fields of the collider had some variations.”

“When a train went by.”

“You got it. In particular, it was the TGV, the express train that travels between Geneva and Paris. One day there was a strike and the trains did not run.”

“I have a feeling we may be riding on that train soon.”

“Yes, if you accept the mission.”

“Lisa is now at the LHC, the Large Hadron Collider, isn’t she, where the precision is astronomical?”

“Yes. It has 7 times more energy than the TeV and it’s due to totally restart in October, but they did run some tests on it already. Lisa detected an inexplicable anomaly before it broke down for some other reason.”

“Some kind of machine in the area, not just automobiles?”

“Yes, a larger machine than a truck is suspected. CERN sits in a vast mountainous region, the opposite of the plains surrounding Fermilab in Batavia. We found a reference to a terror plot a LHC in the materials that we secured at Alexandria. It wasn’t as obvious as it sounds. We had to break codes.”

“Fooling with the LHC could destroy most of Europe.”

“Indeed, and so we have to investigate. I have some satellite imagery indicating some metal in the area, some of them just deposits, of course.”

“We’ll go,” said Top Secret.

“I am sending you both to Chamonix, a remarkable valley that runs between mountains covered with glaciers that used to descend almost to the roads, but that was before global warming arrived. You will be at the foot of Mount Blanc, the highest mountain in Europe. Other agents will check other areas, even the CIA, for this is a joint mission; however, trust no one. Your area is the one we suspect.”

“So, we just walk right in?”

“Pretty much, for CERN’s main entrance is but a few feet away from the French border; they hardly ever bother with the scientists who cross it twice daily. Great security, huh?”

“So we need to keep this quiet, lest the terrorists get alarmed and move their machinery?”

“Yes, as per usual. We would only flood the region if nothing else works, but this could cause them to accelerate their plan, which might still work to some disastrous degree.”

“We’ll get ready tonight.”

Some of the Jura mountains near CERN

“You and Top Secret will pose as married scientists who also like to get out and ski the Jura mountain slopes, as do many of the tanned scientists there, as well as snow boarding and hiking.”

“We are already tan and have learned how to survive in the wild. Plus, we are married and speak French,” replied Top Secret.

“Huh? Oh, well, the secret is out. Anyway, exactly, and so as such you two shall wander around much further and farther to investigate the concerns. As you are both from ToeQuest, you can talk the talk of science when need be. Lisa will be in touch with you, such as and especially if and when the anomaly returns, as this may be when our adversaries are testing their equipment. This is a big one and so I have informed the President.”

“And the terrorists will look like what?”

“They will look like regular people, not like the Taliban or anything like that. They may be posing as fake scientists, as well, some of them actually having that knowledge, many just lookouts, perhaps.”

“We’re ready already, actually. We traveled light.”

“There’s no big hurry to get there, but the sooner you acclimate yourselves to Switzerland, the better.”

“And people thought that black holes produced by the LHC would destroy the world.”

“Wrong, as we know, but the ethics of some people have fallen into a bottomless pit, never to be retrieved.”

“You’re a good man, General, to protect the light of day.”

“I try.”

[austintorn@aol.com]

Higgs Particles Waiting to be Discovered

Austin and Tarina enjoyed Paris and then the scenic train ride while wondering where there quarry might be hidden.

Tarina began, “Since the LHC is quiet now, the terror machinery may be, as well, but for some more integration testing in both.”

“The terrorists are not ready?”

“No, they aren’t, for they had their chance last year when the LHC went online for a while.”

“And then the LHC failed for lack of a ten cent part.”

“But for that this might have all been a wasteland already, but I still feel that our enemy must have much work yet to do.”

“Did I tell you today that I love you, Tarina.”

“Yes, for I am sitting on your lap so we can whisper unheard, although that is not the only reason.”

“So, the terrorists wouldn’t just set up shop in a house or a building, would they?”

“No, for the emanations would be noticed or disrupt someone’s cable TV service, plus there are business inspections, tax appraisals and such.”

“So they may be up in the mountains, which is a really vast area?”

“But they would still need an electric source.”

“Either from generators or from a power line.”

“How would they be getting these machine parts to this remote location?”

“That is the question. Piecemeal, somehow, plus they need food.”

Austin and Tarina got off the train. Lisa Randall was waiting for them at the satio and drove them across the border and into CERN with no fuss whatsoever.

“The anomaly is a definite problem,” stated Lisa. It has an unnatural source, as we are quite familiar with the natural ones, and it was observed twice, so it was not a fluke.”

“We’ll look around,” answered Tarina. “We’ll find it if it’s in our area, which is, of course, quite extensive, but we are not alone in this endeavor.”

Lisa perked up, “I can narrow that down. They would need a direct line of sight to the LHC.”

Austin looked out the panoramic window. Entire mountain ranges came into view. “So whatever we can see from here is where they might be.”

Tarina gleamed, “But the closer the better for what they have to build within their constraints.”

“I’d say so,” Lisa confirmed.

“Well,” Austin said, “we’re off to find the needle that could burst the bubble of the ring of hadrons.”

“Good luck,” answered Lisa, “for there is a large sub-function test coming up in a month.”

Austin and Tarina soon got into the swing of environs of Mount Blanc and its events, improving their skiing talents and then hiking some trails at random, some at mid-mountain and some towards the base, although not really expecting to chance upon something so luckily and immediately. They ticked off a vein of iron ore as being no longer suspected and tracked along some power lines, but the spurs were endless and hard to follow.

As expected, nothing of interest appeared for the first few weeks. In between excursions, the tropical couple feasted at the restaurant on top of the mountain, speaking in both French and English with the patrons. Now and then they recognized a DIA or CIA operative, but said nothing.

If anyone was watching them they would have not noted anything unusual in their demeanor or in their conversations, only that they were serious scientists, sometimes overhearing statements like this:

"When the universe was born, it was smaller than an electron, which is a quantum object that can exist simultaneously in many states. So the universe must also be a quantum object and exist in many states."

or

“For a universe to generate itself it would have to exist before it existed.”

even

“I wonder what life an electron would have?”

“A very electrifying life charged with zing.”

There were many trails to check out, both regular and expert, which they could now accomplish, so, just for adventure, and of some insight, each time they had a choice, they took the more difficult path. While enjoying the dip of a bowl, as skier's called it, they spotted a trail off to the right that had a ‘closed’ sign on it. While this was not unusual, they quickly turned their skis sideways, the edges digging in and slowing them to a stop within a spray of snowy ice crystals flying and glittering in he sunlight.

Sure enough, the closed trail area was a bit dangerous. It widened into an expanse with many rocks and boulders sticking up through the snow. They noted some cigarette butts off to the side as they went through. There were many further side paths that were smaller than actual ski trails, but many looked treacherous, yet they had ski marks entering them, some more than others. They followed one that looked promising, but it later rejoined the main slope that they had just been on.

“Let’s ski to the bottom and take the lift back up to have another look in a little while.”

“Someone was smoking around there.”

“And all the butts were in one place.”

After a fine lunch of swiss cheese, they skied back into the closed area. There was now a man sitting on a portable folding chair, reading a newspaper and lighting a cigarette. He was a short ways upslope from a side trail whose entrance seemed to have been brushed over. They stopped to speak with him.

“Bonjour, Hello,” they hailed.

“I am an Englishman. Good afternoon, chaps.”

“Ah, beautiful day.” (It was nearly shirtsleeve weather, as on most ski slopes where the sun struck, the air warmed and the snow’s melting point higher due to the altitude.)

“I love it up here, old chaps. The air and the scenery is just so exhilarating. I own a little hotel in the valley, such as one I had in England before I moved here, my good chaps, but it runs itself and so here I am.”

Austin wondered why a skier would be smoking and why he would right away state his occupation unasked. Tarina wondered why there were so many ‘chaps’ mentioned and why he referenced England twice.

“On holiday?” the man asked, as if to ascertain their being by further eliciting their identity without asking directly.

“We’re scientists from CERN. It is kind of a holiday for us, as we’re only part time until the LHC comes back up all the way.”

The man’s eyes lit up at the mention of the LHC. “Oh, really, it’s not ready yet?” he asked, as if that wasn’t common knowledge around these parts.

“No, it may be a while.”

“Well, I’m not much for science, chap friends” he replied. “I just love the atmosphere around here. I could sit here all day.”

Tarina thought that this statement was just to allay any suspicion should they see him sitting here again sometime soon.

Austin asked, “Where do these trails go?”

“Oh, those are just some animal paths, I guess.”

“Some look treacherous.”

“I heard they took some chaps right off the edge of the mountain once.”

“Yikes!” replied Tarina.

The man now looked back to his newspaper, trying not to overdo what he had probably already overdone.

“Be seeing you. We’re off back to the main slope.”

Tarina noted, after some time. “He didn’t even remind us that this section was closed.”

“He seemed to be quite an odd fellow?”

“Indeed, even odder than it is to be English.”

“Yes, overdoing those ‘chaps’ and more that you already know.”

“There is something else nagging at the back of my mind.”

“The smoking?”

“Yes, but I suppose anyone might do that. Something more.”

“The way he smoked?”

“Yes, it looked awkward.”

“I’ve got it. When we first saw him, he lit and held the cigarette differently, as in the German-Russian style, and then when we approached he switched it to the western style.”

“Good eye.”

“He is not an Englishman, but a white Russian, as Dragon once told me about when his team raided a Soviet ‘charm school’ in his younger days. They were training spies in the ways of Americana.”

“So, why is he here now but not earlier?”

“Perhaps there is a delivery coming?”

They sat for an uneventful while of over 3 hours. No one entered the closed area, although a few paused at a picnic table near to it and then skied on. Then there was no one.

[austintorn@aol.com]

“What do you think?”

“Hmmm. We’ll check it again tomorrow.”

“Some of the ski packs looked bulkier today.”

“Yes, but the non Englishman probably waved them on and away.”

“Because we landed on his doorstep.”

“Yes, but we could be making a lot of ado out of nothing. Maybe he is on our side, so to speak, KGB or something.”

“Could be, but let’s send out a readiness alert just in case.”

“The deliveries will probably try to happen tomorrow if indeed that’s what they are.”

The loving couple slept and loved the night away as if there were no tomorrow. (The happenings are confidenial.)

The next day, they took up a spot with a better view and raised their binoculars. A different man was there, sitting in a folding chair.

“It says ‘ski patrol’ on his jacket.”

“Yet the jacket is not quite his size.”

“He must have found it somewhere.”

“Do they think we are stupid or something?”

“What an insult to the DIA. I might have to report this post.”

Two hours later, a skier with a bulky pack swooshed into the closed area and onto the ‘animal’ trail about 50 feet down slope from the folding chair man.

“They put someone else on duty, but neglected to alter the motif.”

“Yes, and they could have just as well had no one looking out, and so then we would have been none the wiser.”

“True. Someone is becoming paranoid. By posting a lookout, they have only managed to give away their position.”

“Yet the overall plan is ingenious. Easy access in and out, the cover of the public ski area, the cosed area, a power line spur connection wired perhaps…”

“I can see CERN in the distance.”

“Would you care to ski in the moonlight on the brightly lit snow?”

“Yes, tonight. Call backup and raise the alert for Section 7 to have their motors running.”

“And I’ll call the General.”

“All because of a litterbug.”

“Luck happens.”

“We would have found it eventually.”

“Before or after Armageddon?”

Midnight arrived and passed. The apparently undisciplined terrorists would be drunk asleep by now, except for some watchman grown bored by nothing much ever happening but a moose wandering by.

…

Austin and Tarina wore white, the better to blend in with the snow lit by the nearly full moon. They skied soft but sure, entering the closed area and then the side trail, their backups slightly behind them by just a few minutes.

It was much darker in there, in places, due to the tall fir trees, so they flipped down their night goggles. The trail was long and winding, indeed coming within a few feet of the edge, another fine deterrent to those who might wander this way unawares.

They had gone perhaps three miles. The path was rough and torturous. It was nearly 2 AM.

“I really hope there’s something in here.”

“There is. These tracks ahead of us are fresh, plus some were made by a snowmobile, their way of getting back up and out this way.”

They stopped and looked, “What’s that ahead?”

“It’s not a head; it’s a power station.”

“Which is not on my up-to-date map.”

“The brickwork looks new.”

“The guard is asleep outside.”

“They’ve run a cable along the ground to that electric tower way over yonder.”

“Jump over it if we end up going that way in a while.”

“Yes, for we don’t have a snowmobile.”

“There is always a back way out, for escape. Go downhill if there is a choice.”

“Let’s make the call now and then take that guard out.”

“Yes, and if anything happens to us, Section 7 won’t get our next call, and will then come in anyway. If we’re fine, we’ll bring them in all the sooner.”

Yarina loaded a dart. It hit the guard in the neck, he toppling over ever so gently. Then his whiskey bottle fell onto a rock and shattered. Some men soon began pouring out of the power station, stumbling a bit, some with guns.

Our dear couple made the confirmation call and were already heading down a sloping trail, the terrorists’ back door and way out.

They stopped after a bit, not wishing to become targets by their movement through an open bowl just beyond and below.

“They may not shoot, as this could give there position away, as they may not know that we already know.”

“Yes, if they’re smart, although these pot shot sounds might not be so loud once they are heard way down in the valley.”

“But they must now suspect some listeners about.”

“However, …

Some shots rang out, a few landing nearby.

“They’re not smart.”

“Yes, but the shots are random. They don’t know where we are.”

“We can’t stay here forever. I hear a snowmobile engine starting up.”

“We have auto GPS; section 7 can tell friend from foe.”

“Where are they?”

“Hark, I hear whispering rotors.”

“Stay down.”

Choppers were coming up the slope, the cannons blasting the area about the ‘power station’. Troop ships followed, Section 7 rappelling down to the ground a short distance away from he power station. A snowmobile exploded but 200 feet away from Austin and Tarina. Off in the distance they could see skiers wearing rifles passing by at the point where the travelled trail had met the cliffs.

“I believe I saw the General in that first chopper.”

“The guy loves to be close to the action.”

“And so do we—to each other.”

“Kiss me.”

The President called his counterpart in Switzerland, waking him up. After a brief conversation, it became clear to both sides that there was no need to look into the incident any further, for, indeed, it never happened.

A week later, the LHC sub-function test began. There was no anomaly. Lisa smiled to herself. Precision had won the day. In a few months they could begin the search for the Higg’s particle field.

[Tarina]

Okay Austin, we do want our back-up, remember our friends, and comrades from the gathering? They seem to be getting left behind in our dust.
Tarina was tossing around some ways she was going to break the news to Austin, well Here goes she thought..
"Oh Austin, honey? Please come here darling, I really need to talk to you ..." Tarina did indeed tell her man what she needed to.
Austin, deep in thought, also pondered the situation. They worked as a team, sometimes solo. But they had never gone on a mission with the whole gang. It was sheer lunacy! He wondered about the sanity of his beloved partner, Tarina.

Tarina was pacing around in the very large washroom, around, and around. Suddenly, there was an insistant banging on their door.
Tarina and Austin both went towards it with their weapons drawn...
The general, Magic Dragon, shouted open this up you two, right now, hurry!
The general, looking at them both said to them "Run, grab your bags, and follow me! We have a submarine to catch, your fellow comrades are on a mission deep in the Mediteranian sea."

[Tarina]

Tarina grinned, and while she glanced at Austin, quickly winked, and thought to herself now thats karma!
The general was himself jogging with the two questors bringing up the rear. All of a sudden there appeared a very sleek, very black aircraft. It was painted with a type of paint that actually absorbed light instead of the light glinting off of it., which then of course was harnessed and helped to power the craft.
Austin whistled, admiring the craft like a beautiful woman ona topless beach. Tarina was already climbing aboard, and with them, the general motioned for , surprise Mikal to quickly jump in.
And they were off. The atmosphere inside of the craft was reaching 0 gravity, as everyone belted themselves in.
Finally the General announced;
As of 0500 hours our entire crew of terraformers were on duty, we heard some shouts of `They are beetles, no, what, aaahhhhhhrrreeeeeekkkkk.....static, and dead airspace ensued.
It is up to us to rescue our friends, and Mikal, you are in charge of getting in touch with them through your telepathic abilities, when we reach the site, we`re hoping you`ll be able to pick up something, anything which will help us in our endeavor.
There was a large banging sound, and the G smiled, and rubbed his hands together. At last he announced! We are now descending into the depths of the ocean.............

[Tarina]

Tarina was stunned to learn that her friends, some were almost like family, were in some sort of trouble down below. She thought of Graham, with his quick wit and mind boggling explanations and smiled, yes they had to save them, Tarina piped up and said ``Can`t you get this crate to go any faster, with which the General grinned and said, `Would you be surprised to learn that we`re doing mach 2...