"You know what makes you weak, Spencer?" taunted the man with the knife. He held Commander Crenlan tightly around the neck and shoulders with one arm, the knife in his other hand gesturing wildly. "You never could make the tough choices!"

Captain Tannen Spencer held the blaster levelly, aimed directly at the Dracnan/Crenlan hybrid. Lanna, for her part, was remaining as calm as possible, under the circumstances. "Let her go, Dracnan, and we'll see how tough the choice is."

Ebner Dracnan let out a laugh that revealed just how far gone he really was. Spencer wasn't dealing with a rational man. (He'd killed eight people in the last 17 hours -- of course he wasn't rational!) He had to keep the Algornian talking long enough to get a clear shot.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Terran? To let the female go so you can kill me. To taste vengeance, to have the blood of another being on your pure white hands." Another laugh escaped, and the blade came dangerously close to Lanna's throat. "You'd never do it, though. Straight arrow, that's you."

"Try me."

"To hell with you!" screamed the enraged beast, plunging the knife deep into Crenlan's throat. Her blood sprayed in an arc, painting the floor a deep crimson. Dracnan held onto her, relishing the life that drained out of his victim, letting it spray his arm, his hands, even turning her a little to spray blood on his face. "Delicious," he hissed.

Spencer had thought he was prepared for anything, but not this. This was utter madness.

He met madness with madness, screaming with fury.

"Son of a bitch!"

The Algornian was surprised as Spencer leapt from his place behind the cargo crates, firing rapidly. Laser bolts peppered the floor at his feet and the wall behind. He threw the now-limp woman to the side and reached behind him for the laser rifle attached to his back plate.

Spencer took a breath and aimed for Dracnan's shoulder, squeezing off a shot just before his enemy had time to aim properly. The bolt hit the second joint of the shoulder, sending a splash of clear fluid against the wall. Dracnan dropped his rifle and collapsed, holding his injured shoulder. He writhed in pain and shock, unable to understand how vastly he had underestimated Tannen.

Tannen, on the other hand, would not underestimate this beast ever again. Calmly he stepped over to his fallen foe, kicking the rifle away and levelling his blaster at the creature's elongated head. Between the eyes should do it, he thought without remorse.

"Do it," ordered Dracnan. "Kill me." A strained smile touched his lips. "Become me."

Spencer deactivated his blaster, but kept it trained on Dracnan. "Fuck you. You're under arrest on nine counts of murder, including an officer of the law." Without warning, he delivered a kick to Dracnan's outer ribs. "I loved her, you bastard."

Between grunts of pain, Dracnan laughed again. "I know, you sot. That's what made it so enjoyable."

Anger rose back to the surface, and Spencer gripped his blaster more tightly than necessary. He struggled to maintain composure. The bastard was goading him. He had to calm down, or he would forever regret the momentary satisfaction of Dracnan's death. With his free hand he reached onto his belt for his communications device. "Captain Spencer to Central Command. I have apprehended Ebner Dracnan. He needs medical attention, but don't worry about being gentle." He stole a look over at Lanna, sprawled on the floor like a discarded rag doll. "Commander Crenlan is dead." He fought back alternating waves of rage and tears.

"You should have killed me while you had the chance, Tannen Spencer," came the taunting voice of the worst serial killer in the second history. "Your mercy will come back to haunt you."

He's right, Spencer thought, seeing the expression locked on Lanna's face, the knife still sticking out of the side of her throat like a grossly misshapen tumor. As long as he's alive, no system is safe. He turned back to Dracnan, whose purple-black eyes were filled with loathing.

"No," he said aloud at last. He raised the blaster and reactivated it. "It won't."

He fired.

Tannen Spencer opened his eyes and took in the tribunal. The circular room was completely white, without a splash of color save the faces of the panel members before him. Even their clothing was sparkling and white. He focused on the one in the middle, the chairperson, who bore a striking resemblance to Lanna. She was staring at him without sympathy.

"Lieutenant Spencer," she said, folding her fingers in front of her, "You were the arresting officer seven years ago, is that correct?"

Speaking into the recorder hovering directly in front of him, Tannen replied, "Yes, I was."

The woman referred to a computer screen built into the panel's table. "It says here that he killed your partner."

Tannen swallowed before answering. "That is correct."

The other woman, seated just to the right of the Lanna look-alike leaned forward in her chair. There was even less compassion in her face, if that was even possible. "You were demoted for excessive use of force against Ebner Dracnan, and several other suspects during that time." It didn't seem to be a question.

"That's true," Tannen began. He was not permitted to continue.

"You also exhibited signs of insubordination and other symptoms of... shall we say... rebellion."

He was about to answer, but she rushed on.

"Quite frankly, Lieutenant, I wonder why you're still even on the force. Your disciplinary file is twice as thick as any inmate's criminal record in the penitentiary. You constantly question orders, and when you do follow orders, you manage to interpret them to suit your mood. Now you sit in that seat and presume to tell us who is and is not suitable for parole?"

Tannen could see the sole man on the panel nodding his head in agreement. The only other presence in the room was the potential parolee himself: Ebner Dracnan. His attire was just as white as the rest of the room, and the expression on his face was of remorse, sorrow, and even a little humility. Tannen wanted to kick his teeth in.

"That man," he said, pointing at Dracnan, "is the most dangerous criminal in recent history. He makes the legendary Jack the Ripper seem like the host of a children's program. My methods may not be the most humane, but I don't deal with regular people. I deal with psychopaths like him. If you let him out today, you'll not only be making the biggest mistake of your careers, you'll be sending innocent people to their deaths at his hands. If you can't see that, you're not fit to sit in those chairs."

The reactions of the tribunal were just what he'd expected, ranging from minor admiration from the man to sheer outrage from the woman on the other end. The chairperson, whose reaction was somewhere in between, narrowed her eyes at him, stealing a glance at Dracnan before she spoke. "Thank you, Lieutenant. We will keep your words in mind. You're excused."

As the motorized chair backed him out of the room, his eyes met Dracnan's. In them, he saw a challenge. This isn't over between us, they said to him.

Andrew Devlin put his hands on Spencer's shoulders, trying to calm him. He had just been given the tribunal's decision, and now had to tell Tannen.

"They've decided to grant Dracnan his parole."

"I don't believe this!" Tannen yelled, breaking free of Devlin's grasp. "Don't they know what he is?"

"Calm down, Spence."

"I will not calm down, Andy! You saw what happened in there!" He pointed at the video monitors around the room, which now showed an empty tribunal chamber. Before long, the screens would dim and retract back into the walls. "He lied his way through that whole proceeding."

"True," Devlin replied, his voice soft and full of sympathy. "Of course, your outburst didn't help much."

Tannen almost didn't seem to hear him. His eyes were far away, somewhere Andrew couldn't see, and frankly didn't want to. "I'm going to be on him from the second he walks out of prison. He won't be able to breathe without me there to regulate it."

"You'll do no such thing," Devlin interjected. "I am still your captain."

"Huh?" Tannen was jerked back into the room with those words. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying he's a free man -- for now, at least. And you're going to stay the hell away from him."

"What? I'm supposed to just sit around with my thumb up my ass until he kills someone? You've got to be kidding me!"

"Go home, Spence. Spend time with your son. He's what -- 13 now? Before too long, Kevin won't want anything to do with his old man. Take some time off. Go on a vacation or something."

"Is that an order... sir?" He punched the last word with a force that almost made Devlin sting.

"I don't know. Is that what it'll take?"

"Probably."

"Then it's probably an order."

Spencer turned and began to walk away. Devlin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I mean it, Spence. Stay away from Ebner Dracnan."

Tannen walked out of the building without saying another word.

Tannen pressed his thumb against the doorknob of his home and waited for the beep that meant the security scan was complete. Nothing happened. He tried again, more impatiently.

Suddenly the door swung open, and Kevin stood framed in the doorway. He was so tall now, Tannen thought for the thousandth time. His son was nearly the same height he was, and in a few years he would probably surpass him. Now all that gangly height was trying to disappear, and his eyes weren't quite meeting Tannen's.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I, uh, I mean, well, I locked the door, just for a moment, you know, and I just forgot to..."

"Why did you lock the...?" Tannen trailed off as a movement in the living room caught his eye. In one movement he was standing between his son and whatever was in the other room, his blaster ready.

A girl with cheetah-dyed skin looking more annoyed that frightened by his intrusion met his gaze. "Who...?"

"Dad, this is Skiera Jessel. Skya, this is my Dad."

"Totally biting to meet you!" she answered, incomprehensibly.

"Uh...same to you," he replied, figuring it was the safest answer. He quickly put the blaster away.

She smiled, and he realized she had done the whole treatment, sharpened canines and all. "Kev, it was so cutting...studying...with you," she said, and Tannen, as little as he was following this conversation, picked up the emphasis on studying easily enough. "But I so have to morph. See you at the EC tomorrow!"

She waved, a strange three fingered flicking motion that clearly had some subliminal meaning, then slipped out the door almost before Kevin managed to call a quick, "good-bye!" after her.

"So," Tannen smiled. "You locked the door to...study?"

"She's in my history of earth class at the EC," Kevin answered a bit too quickly.

"I hope she's taking a Basic English course," he replied, amused. "What in hell is biting?"

"Biting, Dad, like, totally raw."

"Totally raw," Tannen repeated.

Kevin rolled his eyes. It was nice to see some of the more classic forms of teenage annoyance at parental ineptitude. "Daa-aad! Like, cool, groovy, neat; whatever it was you and the dinosaurs used to say."

"At least I didn't try to look like a dinosaur, or any other kind of animal."

"Oh, the skin job's not permanent. Anyway, don't tell me you hate it. I want to try out some scaled skin. It's just too sting."

"What about this Skiera? Is she 'just too sting' too?"

"Oh, Skiera." His eyes got pleasantly misty. "She's so totally beyond sting."

Tannen smiled. The language might have changed, but some things sure hadn't. "Well, if you're through 'studying,' do you want to get some dinner? There's a new little place over on Italy Avenue that claims to serve classic Terran food. I want to see if they've actually managed to. Interested?"

"Sure. I'll warm up the jetter."

"No, let's take the flash."

"Why waste the money? And I need to practice driving, Dad."

"I know, and we will practice, but I don't think my heart could stand the strain of sharing a jetter with a beginner tonight." He didn't want to tell Kevin about Ebner Dracnan trying to hunt him down and get revenge on him. It would either just sound too paranoid, or it might really scare Kevin, neither of which he wanted.

"I hate the flash," Kevin grumbled.

"Why? Do you think it'll put you back together wrong?" Tannen teased.

"It just...tickles."

"No, it takes apart your par-tickles."

Kevin groaned. "Dad, puns are so not sting," he complained, climbing into the flash.

"And thank goodness for that." With that, Tannen followed his son into the compartment, and typed in the code. The flash began to make a whirring noise as it prepared to transport them.

Neither father nor son noticed the sudden sputter of a green light as it flickered off, as someone hacked into the flash's programming and made a few adjustments...

For some reason, Tannen's first thought was, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." It was something his mother used to say. He didn't really get the reference, but for some reason, it seemed to fit now.

Instead of looking at the inside of a restaurant, bustling with all races and shapes of patrons, he found himself facing a cold white room. At first, he could hardly believe what he was seeing, and he wondered if his fingers had touched the keys wrong. His wonder turned to panic as he thought of Kevin, and he turned to see if his son was still with him.

Kevin was standing there, his mouth open. For the first time in awhile, he looked like a child. His blue eyes were wide and his skin had paled several shades. "Dad?"

"It's all right, son," Tannen replied, though he wasn't so sure it was. What could have caused...? And then his brain clamped on a thought that made his stomach clench and his body grow cold. Dracnan.

Before he even realized it, he had his blaster out and activated. If Dracnan was behind this, he would make sure the Algornian didn't get a third chance. Beside him, Kevin tensed. Tannen placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, then stepped in front of him. His eyes scanned the entire room, but saw nothing. Nothing but white. He couldn't even tell how big the room was -- where the walls ended and the ceiling and floor began.

He was surprised when, after a few moments, a metallic -- yet soft and distinctly feminine -- voice reached his ears: "Tannen Spencer, please deactivate your weapon."

"Like hell I will," he nearly shouted, gripping his blaster and fully prepared to use it.

"Tannen Spencer, please deactivate your weapon," the voice repeated.

It was followed by another, this one not metallic and by no means feminine. "Shut it down, Spence."

Tannen recognized that voice. "Andy?" He thumbed the blaster's power button and holstered the weapon. Immediately, an opening appeared off to his right. The square created was dark. That robotic voice urged, "Please exit the isolation chamber."

With an arm around Kevin's shoulders, Tannen led the way out of the room and into a more comfortable-looking one. To one wall was a sofa. Built into the opposite wall was a mirror which Tannen knew was one-way. A smallish table with three chairs around it sat between.

A humming noise behind them signalled that the isolation chamber had sealed itself. Now the only way out was a door directly ahead -- a door that Tannen knew would be locked. The moment he stepped into this room he knew exactly where they were.

"It's okay, son. We're safe. This is headquarters."

In answer, Kevin rushed to the sofa and collapsed onto it. Tannen had to admit -- he had been pretty scared himself. This had to be much harder on a thirteen-year-old boy.

The door opened, and Tannen found himself face-to-face with Captain Andrew Devlin. "Jesus Christ, Devlin! You nearly gave us a heart attack!"

He stopped short at Devlin's expression. There was a heavy burden there. The eyes were strained. Something was going down.

"What is it?"

Devlin gestured to one of the chairs at the table. As Tannen sat, so did he.

"Spence, I'm sorry."

"About?"

"This afternoon. The hearing."

Tannen wanted to leap out of his seat, rant and rave, throw things. But not in front of his son.

"You had to kidnap us to tell me that? Wouldn't a memo-gram suffice?"

Cut the jokes, Tannen, he told himself. Devlin's not kidding. It was in the older man's face.

"Someone tampered with your Flash. I don't know where they were going to send you, but we intercepted the signal. That's why you ended up in the Chamber."

"Dracnan."

"That's our suspicion. Central Division routinely monitors transport activity at the various Half-Houses in the city. Someone at the House where Dracnan is staying made an unauthorized adjustment."

Tannen remained calm and silent, though inside his guts were squirming. It was bad enough that Dracnan had a vendetta against him -- hell, he had expected that. Wanted it, in all honesty. But Kevin--

"Dracnan?" came Kevin's uneasy voice from the sofa. "As in Ebner Dracnan?"

"You know who he is?" asked Devlin.

"The son of a bitch who killed Mom? That Ebner Dracnan? He's out?"

"Aw, jeez, kid. I thought you knew. It's been all over the news today!"

Tannen interjected. "Kev hasn't had much time to watch holo-vid today, Andy. He's been... studying." He threw a meaningful glance at his son, who stared right back. There would be fireworks later, he knew.

"And you didn't tell him? Jesus, Spence!"

"He has enough to worry about right now. I didn't think Dracnan would strike so quickly!"

"I was hoping he wouldn't strike at all."

Slapping his hand on the table, Tannen stood. "So let's go get him and throw his ass back in prison."

"Not so fast," countered Devlin. "The bad news is we can't prove tonight's detour was his doing."

"Figures." He half-shrugged. "Thing is, though -- I don't care. I don't need proof. I know it was him. And let me tell you something, Dev -- I'd really hate to be him right now."

"Listen to me, Tannen--"

"He tried to kidnap my son, Andy! He can fuck with me all he wants to. I welcome it. If he thinks he can take me out, he can give it his best shot. But he tried to cross a line tonight and I'll be damned if I ever let him cross it again! I should have killed him when I had the chance!"

"I am not hearing this," Devlin muttered, turning to face the mirror.

"Lanna died trying to bring him in. My wife -- Kevin's mother. The best damned police officer you've ever had! This isn't just some other case. This is personal! He made it personal."

"That's why I can't let you pursue this. You're too close."

Tannen struggled to contain the anger rising inside him. Dev just didn't understand. Couldn't. "You can't ask me to just let this go."

"I'm not. I'm ordering you. We'll take you to a safe house until we can get the evidence we need to put Dracnan away again. No one knows why, but I want to keep you alive for a little longer."

Tannen opened his eyes with a start. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was or why he was there. Then the memories of the night before caught up with him. He rolled over and sat up to look at Kevin's bed.

It was empty.

His heart leapt into his throat as he hurled himself out of bed, grabbing his blaster from the little bedside table as he ran through the doorway into the little sitting room that adjoined the bedroom. "Kev!"

"What?"

The terse response caught him off guard. He skidded to a halt. Kevin curled up in one of the overlarge red armchairs that flanked the holo-vid, pale, but very much alive.

"You...I didn't know where you...don't wander off like that!" The adrenaline that his fear had created turned to anger in an instant.

"Like what!" Kevin leapt to his feet, infuriated. "Mute!" he ordered the holo-vid. Turning back to Tannen, he cried, "You kept secrets from me!"

"I didn't want to worry you!" Tannen protested

"A lie of omission is still a lie, Dad!" Kevin answered, throwing one of Tannen's own arguments back in his face. "Jesus Christ!" his son wailed, "One parent gets murdered, and the other one lies to me about her murderer!"

"Kev, I was going to tell you eventually, but I didn't see any reason to frighten you!"

"You want a reason Dad? You want a reason? There! There's your goddamned reason!" He gestured furiously to the holo-vid and collapsed into the engulfing body of the chair, hands over his face, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Tannen approached the muted holo-vid with feelings of increasing dread. "Sound," he commanded.

"...still investigating. As of now, there are no leads. There are no signs of robbery or sexual assault. Police are baffled as to the motivation for murdering the young woman."

"Off," Kevin mumbled. The three dimensional image of the morbidly cheerful reporter faded away. Kevin didn't move his hands away from his face as he spoke. "He killed Skya."

"Oh Kev..."

"He killed her Dad! I know it! I just know it!" Kevin's voice broke. "He killed Skiera! What did she ever do? She just...she was just unlucky enough to know me!"

"Kevin..."

"Go away...please. I just...I can't deal with this with you...here."

Tannen fell back as though stung. He understood his son's feelings, but it still hurt to be shut out so completely. He walked slowly back into the bedroom and found his cell and made a call.

"Hello?"

"Andy? Dracnan just killed someone else. A young woman named Skiera Jessel. Are you still not going to let me pursue this?"

He was met with static, and quickly checked to make sure the cell was charged. It was.

"Andy? Andy, can you hear me?" He tapped the ear piece of the phone, hoping he hadn't lost the signal. When he heard an audible click happen somewhere in the ether, he stopped cold.

"So," came a different voice into his ear. It was almost no more than a whisper. "The cat-and-mouse begins."

Tannen clenched his teeth until his jaw hurt. The voice was unmistakable, and he had to take a deep breath to control his anger. He didn't quite succeed. "I think you won't like being the mouse, Dracnan."

"Always the brave one, old friend. Much like that delicious wife of yours."

The old rage rose in Tannen's throat, and he fought hard to keep it inside. He couldn't rise to the bait. It was exactly what psychotics like Ebner Dracnan wanted. Still, the mention of Lanna was more than he was prepared for.

"Did I lose you so soon?" came the taunting voice through the ear piece. "You haven't changed in all these years. Such a pity. I was looking forward to the challenge."

"Why did you kill that girl?" It was the only thing he could think to ask that wouldn't make him want to break things -- preferably bones in Dracnan's body. "She was nothing to you."

"True enough. She was something to your spawn, and I wanted to make sure I had your undivided attention. I trust that I have it?"

Tannen's grip on the phone was tight enough that he might break it at any moment. He had to calm himself. This was nothing more than a game to Dracnan, and he couldn't afford to be at anything less than his best if he hoped to beat the maniac. "You have. And I promise that you'll regret it."

"That's where you're wrong. You see, I've spent the last seven years thinking of nothing but you. You are the only one in all my life that has ever bested me. That is something that I can not let go uncontested."

"I'll beat you again," Tannen seethed.

"Doubtful. I have nothing left to lose. You, on the other hand, do..." he let the words trail off, and Tannen could hear the part unfinished.

"Touch my son and I swear to all the gods and even a few devils that it's the last thing you'll ever do."

"Spare me the posturing. The game is on. The rules are simple."

"No rules," Tannen guessed.

"Exactly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few more preparations to make before we see each other again. It shouldn't be too hard to find me. Just follow the trail of innocent blood."

Tannen closed his eyes tightly, knowing he was helpless to prevent whatever it was that Dracnan had brewing in that warped head. Another click signalled that the call had terminated. He was about to power down the cell phone when he heard the surprised voice of Andrew Devlin on the other end.

"Spence, are you there?"

"Huh?"

"You zoned or something. Is everything okay?"

"No, Andy, it isn't," Tannen admitted. "Not by a long shot."

"Is Kevin all right?" Devlin demanded.

"He's as well as can be expected, considering that his friend was murdered by Dracnan and he just heard about it on the news.

"Spencer..."

"You can't order me off this case Andy!" Dizzy with fury, Tannen sat down on the bed trying to regulate his breathing.

"You're too personally involved!"

Tannen felt the beginnings of a headache forming at his temples. "And Dracnan's the one who made it that way! He just confessed Skiera Jessel's murder to me on the phone, Andy, he spliced into the connection somehow. He's the one who began this, but by God I'll be the one to finish it!" He took a deep breath as the pain in his skull intensified.

"Are you done?"

"Only if you're about to agree." Was it his imagination, or were the lights flickering? The room seemed faintly dark, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

"Spencer, if you're the one to arrest him, it'll never stand up in court."

Who said anything about arresting the bastard? Tannen wondered. He felt tired to the bone, and wasn't sure if he had spoken aloud. His head wouldn't stop aching.

"Spencer?" Devlin asked. "Spencer, are you there? Spence, answer me! SPENCER!"

Devlin's voice roused him from his stupor. "What? Do you need something? What were we talking about?"

"What were we...Spencer, are you all right?"

"Sure...just peachy," he said brightly. "Just ducky!" He giggled. "I'm frum-tabulous!" He started to laugh, but it turned into a desperate choke for air. It was nearly impossible to breathe, and his vision was slowly bleeding red.

"Spencer, get out of there! Now!"

"Where? Why?" The phone was unbearably heavy to his fingers. He fought not to drop it as the litany of interrogatives danced through his brain. "Who, what, where, when, why and...there's another one though Andy, I know it...who, what, where, when...what, where, when, what wore when, what wore white with waffles..." he grew confused.

"Spencer, stand up, walk to the door, and leave the room. Take the phone with you. Get your son, and leave the safe house, do it now, before you forget."

Tannen stumbled to his feet, trying to remember all of the instructions at once. He made it to the door and started to ask Andy what to do, then realized he had forgotten the phone. He started to go back for it when he heard Kevin coughing in the next room. He remembered the next part of the instructions, 'get your son.'

He stepped through the doorway and took Kevin's arm. "Come on Kev, we have to go," he whispered.

Kevin coughed again and opened a pair of bleary bewildered eyes. "I'm tired," he protested. "Can't we just wait a minute? Just let me catch my breath," he whispered.

It seemed so reasonable. Tannen wanted to just wait too, but Devlin had sounded firm. "We have to go right now, Kev. Come on, I'll help you."

His son groaned as his father dragged him to his feet. "Come on, Kevin, you can do it. We can do it." The sound of ragged breathing in his ear, and his own words brought back ancient memories of long ago; of him and Lanna with Kevin between them on their big bed, reading a story about a little engine that could, or at any rate kept repeating that it thought so.

"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can," Lanna would chant, and sometimes Kevin would join her. More often he would lie still and pale, limp as he leaned against Tannen, every breath a struggle.

Now father and son fought together against the mysterious breath-stealing weariness that threatened to engulf them. Tannen shoved the door of their quarters open and they nearly fell out into the hall. At once he felt his brain clear slightly. He could tell Kevin felt it too.

"Come on, we still have to get out of the building."

His son nodded, but the race to the actual exit was an anti-climax. The front door opened easily, and nothing exploded or whistled past their ears. As Tannen staggered down the steps, Kevin behind him, there was the screech of graviton breaks being misused, and Andrew Devlin was running to meet him, two squad jetters halting on the street behind him.

"Thank God!" Devlin said. "I thought you were goners."

"No, we're pretty tough, Kevin and me," Tannen said, with bravado he didn't feel.

"Was it gas?" Kevin asked, his voice shaky.

"It was Respirate." At Kevin's blank look, Devlin expanded. "Sub-atomic particles. They cling onto the oxygen molecules in the air and make them chemically worthless to the body."

"They used that in the Tensions between Demos and Ceres, didn't they?"

"An earlier variant of it, yes. It was made illegal directly afterwards, being classified as a form of biological-warfare though."

"So how did Dracnan manage to get some?" Tannen asked grimly.

"It does bear looking into," Devlin admitted.

"Damn straight it does."

"In the meanwhile, we need to be thinking about alternative places for you both to stay, since obviously even our safe house security wasn't enough. Why don't you go stay with your in-laws, or at least send Kevin?"

"I'm standing right here," Kevin said coldly.

"Maybe you could go stay with your Aunt Pat."

"Do you really think I'd be any safer there? I feel safer here, with you." Kevin looked at him, and his eyes said what he wouldn't say aloud, 'I'm sorry I yelled at you this morning. I'm angry and scared, but I still trust you, in spite of everything.'

"Kev's right." Tannen put an arm around his son's shoulders. "We won't truly be safe until Dracnan is in jail or dead. Let's started working on that, Andy."

Devlin slowly nodded. "All right. You have my permission to pursue this. But Tannen?" He suddenly looked very old. He looked as though there was a great deal he wanted to say, but in the end, all he said was, "If you go in on some half-baked scheme and get yourself turned into some kind of a martyr, I won't speak at your memorial service, you damn bastard."

Tannen smiled. "Yes, sir. I'll keep that in mind."

Somewhere else, a gnarled hand placed a telephone receiver gently into its cradle. It was an antique model with a rotary dial, which the Algornian used because it reminded him of just how primitive humans really were. It had needed to be retro-fitted with a holographic key display in order to be operational, but Ebner Dracnan rather liked this particular model.

At this time, the Respirate would be seeping into the climate control systems of the inaccurately-named "safe house". Spencer would undoubtedly escape, of course. Death wasn't the goal just yet. He wanted to send them a message -- that nowhere was safe. The beauty of it was that without any evidence to link Dracnan to any of the events, there wasn't anything anyone could do to stop him. If vengeance was a dish best served cold, as the old saying went, then this had been chilled to perfection. The flavor was exquisite.

Dracnan rotated his right shoulders, experiencing a fresh jolt of pain. They still ached occasionally, even after the years of physical therapy and neural specialists he'd seen while incarcerated. He smiled at the pain, allowing that to be just one more thing to add to the list of grievances he had against the vaunted Lieutenant.

Tannen Spencer's greatest assets were also weaknesses to be exploited. First, his fierce loyalty to his son, while admirable to the piss ants that were his friends, would soon enable Dracnan to abduct the younger Spencer. He would take great pleasure in killing the apeling while the father ape watched. It would be a further chink in the armor of his sanity. The madness which would then ensue would likely result in an end to Dracnan's own life, but he was prepared for that. Knowing that he had driven the human to murder would be enough of a victory.

Spencer's stubbornness was another "asset" that would prove his undoing. His stubborn pride always led to predictability. They would discuss sending the spawn-child to stay with a relative, and Spencer would refuse that, which would lead them to the summer cottage he had acquired after the she-ape's death. It was a place they would assume Dracnan knew nothing about, and that would be the fatal error in judgement that would allow the end game to occur.

But first, Dracnan decided that some fun was in order. He allowed himself a casual gaze out the window of the room he currently occupied. It wasn't the accommodation he would have chosen for himself, but for now he didn't need much. The view afforded him some amusement as he mentally charted the arrivals and departures of various patrons of a somewhat tawdry establishment. Even after all the centuries of supposed cultural advancement, the parasitic race called humanity still frequented the dark and smoky taverns in an outdated mating ritual known as a "one night stand".

It was vulgar.

By his calculation, the man that Flashed into existence at that moment had come at this same time yesterday afternoon as well.

This man would be the first. Tannen Spencer would have his day soon enough. Dracnan would see to that. However, he wanted his quarry to busy himself with worry at what other tortures would befall him before it was over. For tonight, the man in the bad toupee would do.