The day has come. Alptraum received the word just the night before. This mission won't take place during the evening, but rather in broad daylight – though it's almost a moot point, when one realizes that sunlight seldom reaches the Streets Below, where the secret entrance to the Tower of Babel lies. Alptraum has purchased for himself a new bandana to tie back his hair, and a new dagger to sheathe at his belt, and he's all set to go.

However, a complication arises. A message arrives for Alptraum: He is cordially invited to a private brunch with Vizier Thath today, and on such short notice. What's more, but since the short notice demanded a quick response, one of the Yodhsunala took the initiative of accepting on Alptraum's behalf. After all, surely one would not turn down an invitation by Vizier Thath – not with the power he wields.

So, Alptraum really has no choice. To decline would be to arouse far too many suspicions at a time when he dearly needs to remain conspicuous. With any luck, this will be a short meeting – especially if he's simply not feeling up to eating much (as is so often the case) – and he can still meet his schedule. In fact, the Coalition Tower is fairly close to the Tower of Babel. He wouldn't have far to fly. Perhaps this could all work out in his favor. Perhaps.

"As ever, I must apologize for such short notice in my invitation," Vizier Thath says, standing to one side of the entrance and making a sweeping gesture toward the table, which is set with several covered decanters and a set of matching porcelain cups. "My duties put my life in perpetual chaos, and it seems folly now that I even bother trying to plan my schedule for the next day, let alone a holiday in advance." A Savanite cub attendant stands at the door, but at a nod from Thath, slips out quietly.

"What I occasionally hear of your exploits in Babel intrigues me. I would have taken the opportunity to get to know you better sooner, but as it is, I should hope that the delay gives us all the more to speak about. Please, won't you be seated? My cooks have prepared an array of drinks local to Babel, as well as to your land of Sylvania. By all means, make yourself comfortable," Thath says solicitously, with such deference as to perhaps make some uninitiated observer think that he is but a humble shopkeeper greeting a wealthy noble customer.

Alptraum bows. "I appreciate the offer, and had I known sooner, I would have skipped breakfast. So, forgive me if I do not have much, if anything to eat – I mean no offense by it. I may just stick to something to drink, or perhaps a light soup. I'm unfortunately not that hungry," Alptraum replies respectfully and explains. He walks into the room a bit further and looks around. "You hear about me? Here? I'm certainly no one of importance to watch or observe. I hope there haven't been too many rumors about me milling about," he then says and heads toward the mirrored table.

"Not too many," Vizier Thath says, and, without further ado, steps down to the lower portion where the recessed table stands, half-stooping to take a pitcher and pour a cup of steaming herbal tea for himself. "And, please, do not feel put on the spot about a late breakfast. I realize that many Sylvanians prefer a liquid diet." He gestures toward a bowl with a polished ceramic handled top, fashioned so that the supporting legs suggest female Eeee placing their backs and wings to the bowl. "I'm certain you'll find that to your tastes."

Alptraum's silver eyes lock onto Thath after his last comment. But, he doesn't refute or deny the statement and walks over to the unusual bowl and peers in. "What have you heard about that intrigues you so? he asks.

Alptraum's nose warns him of the contents of the bowl before his eyes do. It's blood, possibly from some variety of domesticated Creen, by his best guess. "You'll find it warm," Thath says, "as I am given to understand is most desired amongst those who drink it. It has an alchemical additive that slows coagulation."

Alptraum lets out a slow breath. Slowly, he looks back to Thath and asks quietly, "How much do you know about me? And how do you know it? How did you know I came from Sylvania, for example?"

"In my capacity as an advisor, it is my business to know things. And as such, there are those who have information to sell, who present it to me, knowing me to be a generous customer," Thath says, pausing to take a sip from his cup. "But do not worry. I have no doubts about your character. Mage Ariel spoke highly of you."

"Offered the Yodhbarada money, then," Alptraum says as he sits down on the cushion. He reaches out and taps a claw on the side of the glass, then says, "I always feel the need to explain when people find out – that I cannot change what I am as much as I wish I could. I'm … not what legends generally say. I don't hurt people. How much do you know – outside of this? About who I am?"

"I know that you are very close to Sunala," Thath says, "and that you've earned yourself a very interesting variety of friends while you've been in Babel. I haven't brought you here to accuse you of anything, nor to threaten you. I understand what you are, and I do not fear nor do I despise you for it. You suffer because of an old and baseless superstition – and Babel as a whole suffers for it. In this time of strife, we must not allow such pointless divisions to remain. Sylvania is home to many of our brethren. That they feed on the blood of a Dromodon rather than its meat … what matters that, in the end?"

"It's just that I seem to walk on a dagger's edge here in Babel. To me that makes no difference and I am glad to hear it doesn't to you as well. Still, people fear that we might see others as, well, food. Having people find out makes me nervous; I have friends whom still do not know," Alptraum says. "And you mention Sunala, so I assume you know about my, ah, birth?" he asks, then finally takes a very small sip from the cup. "Let'smake sure there aren't any odd knockout drugs in here. A tiny sip should be relatively safe," he thinks.

At least if there's anything in the drink, it's not potent enough to knock him out after this tiny sip. To most tastes, this would be repulsive, but to Alptraum's palette, it has a very refined taste – odd, lacking the "wild" taste that he is accustomed to – but one he could probably get used to if he had the opportunity.

"Yes, I know a great deal about that," Vizier Thath says, "and I mean you no disrespect when I say that I do not believe all that is said about the nature of that birth. Though I am faithful to the Kindly Ones, I am still a skeptic – a necessary attribute for me to live to this advanced age."

"You're not the only one who doesn't believe everything about that. I don't either," Alptraum says. "So, since you know, why is Rikat still kept here?"

"Ah, that," Vizier Thath says. "That is for reasons entirely different than why he was first kept in seclusion. Now, it is for his own safety. He knows nothing about life outside his comfortable walls. To allow him to go out on his own would require that he be taught … but all his life, he has been trained to tone his muscles, not his mind. Perhaps, once he is older, and his blood has stopped boiling, he will be calm enough to learn restraint. But until then … " Thath shrugs. "It is, quite honestly, in his best interests to be kept away from the troubles that befall the rest of Babel."

Alptraum chuckles quietly. "Well, it's not like I know much about the troubles outside these walls, really. Cities are nearly an unknown to me, as I grew up in wilderness," Alptraum replies. "I certainly won't refute that he needs to learn to calm down, though. He's far too aggressive."

"Yes, yes, well, he received only the barest minimum of instruction to make him tolerable at social functions, and even then, he would be surrounded by a bevy of guards. It is a little known fact that one of his attendants carried a concoction designed to 'pacify' him should he get out of hand. Many a time he had to leave a party, suddenly becoming drowsy and incapable of staying up any longer," Vizier Thath says, with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"I find that vaguely disturbing," Alptraum admits, then takes another sip from the cup. Afterward, he interlaces his fingers and asks, "Are there things you wish to know about me, then? You've been quite the host, in spite of my suspicions."

"Well, yes, actually," Vizier Thath says, pausing to take a sip from his own cup. "I've already established that I know you are fairly close to Sunala – a distinction very rare among those of us still alive and not of the Yodh. I am very interested because, after all, I am trying to form a coalition amongst the powers of Babel, such as we are. Tell me … what do you think about her? I assure you, no amount of money or favor will persuade me to let anything you tell me go beyond this room."

"Her – yes. I'm not all that certain what to make of her," Alptraum replies, trying to decide how to put it. "I 'met' her, you could say, long before I knew Babel existed or knew anything about the Yodh. Her behavior is peculiar and I'm not quite sure what to make of it, not yet anyway."

"'Peculiar,'" Thath echoes, with a grin. "That word might be applied to any deity or demon, I am sure. Would you be bold enough to venture anything more specific than that? If the topic makes you uncomfortable, of course, I will not press. I just have a suspicion that this is not a topic you find you can freely discuss amongst the Yodhsunala you are so often in the company of."

"When we are alone, she treats me as if I was her older brother. Now, around the Yodh – she's a totally different person. It's as if something takes over. Perhaps since that they believe she is Sunala, she takes on that personality – whereas I'm not fully one of the faith so around only me, she does not. I fear she's someone's pawn, more than anything and that concerns me. But, there was that event where she appeared in Sylvania, after I had met her. She saved my life then. Maybe she really is Sunala and her demeanor is simply affected by what people expect of her," He says with a shrug.

"An interesting theory," Vizier Thath says, nodding slightly. "That would be entirely in line with some of the theories that have been bandied about by mages of the College Esoterica – that the goddesses that came into being with the Dream Ritual were formed by our expectations of the Kindly Ones. They became what we believed they would be, and drew power from our shared beliefs. Where our beliefs contradicted, there formed weaknesses that could be exploited – and that is how the 'Dream Questers' managed to defeat most of them."

"It would make sense, considering I met her first in a Dream – atop Mount Sunala, in fact," Alptraum says. "She appeared slightly different in the dream," Alptraum says, tapping a claw near his eye, "She had eyes like mine in the dream."

"Hmm," Thath says, rubbing his chin. "Very interesting … but also very alarming, the thought that her very personality might be malleable by the expectations of others. After all, she is looked upon as a goddess incarnate by many. There are some who even say that Babel would do well to have an avatar of deity on its ruling throne, rather than some mere mortal. After all, they say, was not the Sabaoth a god in the flesh?"

"I must admit I once feared that people may try to use me for that as well; after I found out that some believed me a demi-god. But, I am not nearly so malleable – nor am I a god in any way," Alptraum replies. "She's one of the reasons I've not left the temple. I fear for her safety there, and those whom may seek her harm. She is still just a child, around me anyway. She's the closest thing I've got to family."

Thath nods solemnly. "Does she know about your dietary needs?"

"I do not know. I have not told her," Alptraum says.

The Vizier frowns at this. "Unfortunate. It is good, though, that you keep your secret for now … but I must submit that you are in a unique position to have the ear of Sunala – whether we agree to think that she is Sunala Incarnate, or even if she is merely a gifted young woman that the faithful of Babel believe to be their Goddess. Much good could be done, if she could be persuaded that tolerance and unity should be the new way of Babel, not strife."

"That said," Thath says quickly, raising a hand of caution, "gods and goddesses, real or otherwise, anger easily."

"Unfortunate that I do not know? Or unfortunate that I have not told her?" Alptraum asks. "I've told very few. And yes, I'm quite aware of the danger there. I have to be careful around her."

"Unfortunate," Thath says, "that she does not already know and accept. I cannot say that if you were to tell her now, any of us would be any the better for it."

"I hope that as they get to know me, that when they find out they can see me for who I am, not what I am," Alptraum explains. "And may I ask you a few things? You were here when I was born – do you know much about the srinala whom gave birth to me? Her family, perhaps? I've been trying to figure out why my dietary needs are such, as it were."

"Ah, that," Thath says, bringing his glass up to his lips again. He takes another sip, then lowers the glass once more. "I have my theories, but I do not think it is yet time to share them with you, for your own good. I found out about your own inclinations from multiple sources. There are far too many people watching you closely. You might reveal more than you intend to."

"Does it relate any to Lord Cenesta and his wife?" Alptraum asks. "She reacted so strangely to me it's caused me to wonder."

Thath grins wanly at this. "Best I tell you this before a Yodhbarada charges you for the information. This is not common knowledge, but a child was born to their family: a girl, in the image of Sunala, still and quiet. She was a srinala. They had no choice but to turn her over to the care of the Yodhsunala. She was housed at the Oracle of the Fountains, tended to by a Yodhsunala by the name of Mariamara. You will not find the Oracle of the Fountains any longer, for it lay close to the Sabaoth's Palace, and was lost when Babel was Wounded. I think that you may be able to complete my story for me, without me telling you any more."

Alptraum nods at this. "I had suspected as much regarding them. I assume they knew of the birth their child gave, then?" he asks.

"If they did not know, then they had their suspicions," Thath says. "You must understand, when a child is given over to the Yodh, that child is now considered part of the family of the Kindly Ones. For them to contact their mortal offspring is forbidden, and the Yodh do not seek out their birth parents. The allegiance of the Yodh is only to be to their Mistress, and not to any mortal tie of blood. You are not of the priesthood, but your case falls within a gray area of priestly law, not covered clearly by any precedent. Hence, do not expect them to come to you – or anyone else – with this tale."

Alptraum nods. "Nor do I know if it would do them any good to learn of me," he replies. "I think they must have suffered a good deal – and my existence may only make it worse," he then adds with a shrug.

Thath nods approvingly. "Very noble of you – and, sadly, quite possibly very true. Perhaps some day, this will not be the case … but until that time… " Thath shrugs, and finishes his cup.

"It would only put them in danger, I think," Alptraum mutters, then takes another drink. "Can I ask one more thing? What do you know of The General? Have you ever seen this person outside of armor?"

"Yes, I think that will have to be the last question. I realize that I have waiting appointments. But – ah yes – the General," Thath says, setting down his cup. "There are some who claims the General is never without his armor – that he's a demon that wears it for skin, or a revenant who wears it to hide his ghastly wounds. I myself have never seen him in person without armor – and even with it, I have only seen him at a great distance. I have harbored the opinion that 'The General' doesn't even exist at all. Rather, the General is but an identity, a figurehead, played by perhaps more than just one individual, with some sort of stage tricks to make him seem as tall as a god."

"Thoughts I've had, among others. I find it interesting the General I saw up close bore an interesting resemblance to an old depiction of Diphath at the head of her army," Alptraum replies and finishes off his cup. "I'm keeping my eye and ears on the General for now. Something about that group worries me – did you know they asked me to join them when I first arrived? Only me, not the other three with me."

Thath laughs at this. "To Diphath? Now – ahem – I never once entertained the idea that the armor concealed one of feminine proportions … let alone divinely feminine proportions, which are even more conspicuous. And, yes, I heard that little story that Mage Ariel related. I can only assume that the others with you weren't invited because, frankly, they were rabble, and looked the part."

Alptraum grins at that and says, "And I don't look like a commoner?"

"Oh, I would never say that," Vizier Thath says, smiling faintly. He stands slowly. "Now then, I apologize, but I must keep a very tight schedule." He claps his hands together loudly, and the door opens, admitting the little cheetah cub attendant. He stands to one side, holding the door open.

Alptraum gets to his feet and replies, "Yes, I do as well. again, I appreciate the invite and the chat. It answered a few things I was wondering about." Alptraum heads to the door and as he passes through, reaches down to fuzz the little cheetah's head lightly. "Thank you," Alptraum signs, smiling, then exits.

Outside, Alptraum sees that it is noon. More time passed getting into and out of the Tower than he had anticipated. Fortunately, he has a window of opportunity to meet at the appointed place, not a single specific time. If he hurries, he should make it. (And if he does not, then Autumn-Storm will carry on alone.)

And indeed, Alptraum hurries on. He made a promise, he means to keep it.

Alptraum flies downward, into the dark streets below and follows the directions he was given, hoping he remembered it right.

Following his directions, Alptraum makes his way between the ziggurats and bridges. With the sun directly overhead, the Streets Below are as light as they ever get, but even now, the lowest levels are still lost in shadow, and even at the higher levels, the obstructions close in to limit one's range of vision – making high speed flying a very risky proposition for those who aren't familiar with the terrain. Where he goes, there is no longer light to go by, and he cannot be absolutely certain that his directions were correct … until he gets there.

Alptraum's brow furrows in concern. He switches to flying by sounding now, trying to track the walls around him, and any obstacles that may rear up in front. "I hope I can find this place and I hope Autumn won't be too upset it took me this long, ugh," he thinks.

Alptraum avoids a low-hanging obstruction … and realizes that for the last landmark he was looking for. With a circle down, he lightly lands on a bed of rubble. The air smells of soot and ash, and faintly of decay. A pebble makes a sharp sound against a stone surface, then another, and another.

Alptraum tracks the sound, making his way slow and carefully through the darkness. "Hello?" he calls out, "Autumn-Storm?"

Once the Eeee makes his way to where he best guesses the pebble came from … he feels a feminine touch on his arm, and fingers folded over, making a sign of, "Follow."

Alptraum pats the hand lightly in acknowledgement and returns his attention to tracking by sound. "Boy, I hope that's her or I'll feel silly," Alptraum thinks with a grin.

The Eeee is able to sound out his surroundings by the occasional noises in the dark, but it seems that his guide has been here a little bit longer than he – though she still pauses now and again as if to be certain of her bearings. At last, they enter into a low enclosure, and Alptraum's guide opens up a door. Faint light floods the room from inside, where a curious little glass lantern in a wooden frame sits, containing a liquid that glows an eerie green, rather than a burning flame. As the dim light floods the room, making everything verdant, he can see that he is in the company of a green cheetah that bears a remarkable resemblance to Autumn-Storm, though with a cloth-covered face and wrappings on her hands and feet.

"You're green," Alptraum signs with a smirk and pulls out his bandana he tucked in a pocket. He then proceeds to tie up his white hair to mask it out. "Sorry for keeping you waiting. I ended up getting summoned."

Autumn-Storm signs, "Does that make me more attractive?" Her ears wiggle. "Everything is green in this light. It does not carry as far as a lantern, and will not start a fire." She picks up the frame by one of the supports – a makeshift handle – and signs, "All ready? This tunnel leads all the way to the Tower."

Alptraum puts his palm to his forehead and sighs melodramatically. "You're going to pick on me about that, aren't you?" he signs in response, then checks to make sure his daggers are secured on his back belt-sash. "Ready as I'll ever be. Oh, before we go – have you met others in the group other than Clenching Fist?" he then signs.

"Only a couple," Autumn-Storm signs. "It is the nature of the organization to be divided into many small cells. It reduces the chances of the whole organization being compromised if any one person is caught." She leads the way down the not-very-secure-looking tunnel.

Alptraum follows along behind Autumn-Storm. "Just, be careful with him – okay? I hope I'm wrong about something, and don't ask what. It's hard to explain," he says in a very low voice. He then proceeds to listen intently, trying to judge how many things are moving down here.

Autumn-Storm stops, and turns to face Alptraum, a serious look on her face. "I won't have you talk ill of him! We go back a long way. I trust him. I have not forgotten your confession on the island. Are you just jealous of him?"

"No! I'm just concerned about something. It's likely is meaningless and just another oddity, okay?" Alptraum signs. "Look, I saw him in the Sea of Souls, okay? I'm trying to understand why and how."

"You saw me in the Sea of Souls, too. It is nothing. You put too much weight on dreams," Autumn-Storm signs. "And now is not the time to discuss such things. There is work to be done."

"You I pulled out," Alptraum points out. "When you were dying. But, you're right. Work has to be done. And like I said, it's probably meaningless."

Autumn-Storm nods, and spins around, then slips on something that glistens wet on the floor. She lets out a meek "bark" of alarm, and flails her arms as she tries to regain her balance, with the glass lantern in one hand.

Alptraum moves quickly and tries to catch and re-establish her balance before she drops the lantern.

The Eeee's reflexes are uncanny, and all the better since he had nothing in his hands at the time. He catches Autumn-Storm by the arms, but she lets out a pained sound as he touches one of her shoulders. She rights herself, still holding the lantern, turning the shoulder away, and nodding her head in quiet thanks.

"If he hurts you again … " Alptraum says softly. "Let'sgo."

Autumn-Storm casts Alptraum an angry look that has a hint of tears in it, but nods in agreement, and presses on.

Alptraum almost says more, but continues on instead, quiet and listening.

The walk is long and quiet and fortunately uneventful. There are occasionally other patches of goo, and other signs that they are not the only living creatures frequenting this passage – but quite likely the only sapient ones in quite some time. At last, they reach the end of the tunnel, which ends at a collapsed junction. Autumn-Storm traces her hands over the walls, then sets down her lantern as she digs her fingers into a dirt-obscured groove she finds. She starts to clean away the grime, revealing a seam in the stone.

"Secret passage, I presume. Do I need to help clear and move it or is there a lever buried somewhere?" he asks in sign.

Autumn-Storm signs, "See if you can find the rest of the edge. We push in the center."

Alptraum goes to work. He starts dragging his claws lightly through the grime on the walls, seeking out the seam that may catch them as they pass over. He also goes back to listening intently, trying to see if he hears anything on the other side of this 'door'.

There's some sort of vibration going through the door. Machinery? It's hard to make out more than that. In any case, he manages to trace out the lines, and soon they have the door spelled out. With some pushing, the door presses inward, and with some more work, it slides into some sort of groove that allows it to be shoved to the side. The door is surprisingly light, and something about the touch of it suggests that it may not truly be made out of quarried stone at all … but perhaps some sort of textured ceramic instead. On the other side, there is darkness, though occasionally punctuated by foxfire green glows. By the acoustics, Alptraum can tell that this is a much larger room – at least in terms of width, not height.

"They have a lot of weapons in this place – and odd monsters too. Be wary," Alptraum signs, crouching low and looking around. Again he listens, trying to make out if anyone is nearby.

It sounds deserted, to the best Alptraum can determine, though the sounds of machinery mix with the chatter of a great many unseen insects, making it hard to be certain. Autumn-Storm carefully ventures forth, setting her lantern down in a corner, now that there's some other light to go by, more or less.

Keeping low, Alptraum moves forward as well. "Which way?" he asks.

Autumn-Storm's silhouette pauses by a doorway, as she peers around a corner, and then she motions with one hand to follow, as she disappears out of sight, her tail vanishing behind her.

Alptraum follows on, using ears to track for people and eyes to follow the cheetah. "I hope this item is near – and I hope giving it to these people is a good idea. Well, as long as it helps some people, it's worth it. Plus, I can watch her back," he decides.

As Alptraum turns the corner, and heads down a short passage, he catches up on Autumn-Storm. She's standing there, frozen, on a balcony overlooking a vast chamber. When he reaches her, he can see what it is that has her transfixed: The chamber looks perhaps like the interior of some sort of hive, much like the part of the tower that Alptraum saw earlier, with honeycombed walls, the cells of which glow varying shades of iridescent green. Within these giant cells, though, are silhouettes. Some of them look very humanoid in shape. The bottom of the room curves into a bowl-like shape, and a mountain of organic material, enwrapped in silken strands, rises upward, to a nest of spheroids that match the description Alptraum was given of their objective. Autumn-Storm isn't looking at this, though. Rather, she's looking away from the chamber, toward the near wall, just to one side of the passage she came through.

By the greenish light illuminating her stunned face, one might suppose that she's looking into one of those honeycombed cells.

Alptraum turns to look at what Autumn is looking at and getting a bad feeling about this. "It reminds me of the Plaguebringers room, in a way," he thinks. "What is it?" he asks softly, hoping his voice will get her attention back.

Autumn-Storm just staggers back, leaning against the chitinous railing. Fortunately, it is sturdy enough to hold her weight, though it is coated with a thin sticky film that adheres to her fur, and looks like it will be very hard to wash out. When Alptraum takes a look for himself, he can see that through a translucent membrane, there is something living inside that cell. It looks like a child of about twelve years or so, of some species that is only a strange relative of the Eeee, having sections of chitin merged with skin, tight corded muscles and sinews that twitch underneath patches of translucent skin, and features that seem a parody of an Eeee's … like a bug made by unholy means to grow into the shape of an Eeee.

In the next cell, which is darkened, there is a hint of a humanoid form, the side of a full-grown man, with four arms, and what once was a brutish face, but the creature is obviously dead and emaciated, the holding membrane having grown dull, and torn away in patches. There follows a pattern: the darker cells are either empty or hold corpses, whereas the brighter ones hold apparently living – and still forming – beings.

Alptraum's eyes widen in horror. "This is … wrong. Horrid," he stammers, staring at the odd creature. "How long have these been here? Is this … new?" he wonders, still shocked.

With a buzz of gossamer wings, a giant insect flits about overhead, descending down toward the central bowl of organic spheres, and picking one up in its six legs. It lifts back up, and lands on the frame of one of the hollow cells, planting the faintly glowing sphere inside.

"I don't think those spheres are some sort of protection, Autumn," Alptraum signs. "Someone is growing something down here. But – why?"

Autumn-Storm wanders over to look at another one of the humanoids, whose arms end in nasty-looking barbs. "They're demons," she signs. "They're breeding demons down here."

"/Weapons – an army. But, for what?/" Alptraum signs, then blinks. "/I know what these are – sort of. The Sabaoth Seven. A legend based on the Sabaoth Six, if I recall right. That one that looked like an Eeee, chibixish: Chezek."

Autumn-Storm signs, "What is a mad general without an army? Perhaps he wishes to control all of Babel – or maybe his ambitions are even greater."

"Greater. I have suspicions about the General. Reminds me vastly of Diphath, in a way," Alptraum signs. "Why would your friends want one of these eggs? I don't think they're telling you the truth."

Autumn-Storm shakes her head. "What if the Temple knew of this? Perhaps they wish to turn this over to Rephidim as proof of what is going on here – or to blackmail the General with the threat that they will do such a thing. Perhaps they are scientists and wish to study one, before the General grows all these … things and sends them off to war. I do not know. But we are here, and if we find a reason not to turn over the sphere later, we can decide that once we are on safer ground."

"Agreed. I will say I'm not about to turn my people over to the sky island, however. Wait here and I can fly and get one of those eggs, all right?" Alptraum signs.

"Be careful," Autumn-Storm signs. "We had information to get us here, and so we could identify the objective … but beyond that, I know nothing about what dangers might be in this very room."

"Plenty of dangers, I'm sure. Just be prepared to run if things go bad. Don't worry about me, just get yourself out," Alptraum signs, then unfurls his wings and takes to the air. He wings his way carefully toward the mound and tries to carefully land on it, near the base where it is likely more stable.

Somehow, once Alptraum leaps off from the railing, he feels a sense of doom, as if he's burned a lot of luck just to get this far. He carefully controls his breathing, his flight, to glide toward the center of the chamber rather than to flap. As he glides along, he notices strange patterns to the light … beams of green only faintly visible in the hazy air. One of them, he hardly even notices until he's just upon it, and some instinct takes over. Even though it's only a beam of light, a certain dread fills him at the idea of actually breaking the slender ray of light. He banks, he avoids it. Was it some legend he read of before? Or maybe just a curious hunch. In any case, he avoids it, and alights upon the base of the pedestal. The sense of dread doesn't lighten any.

Alptraum looks carefully at the objects before him, looking for any more of those beams of light. "Got to find one that isn't in a beam. I don't want to touch those things," he thinks.

If he hadn't been alerted to the beams before, he wouldn't have even noticed, but as the mist stirs, he gets intermittent glimpses of these green beams cutting through. Where the air is clear, the beams are invisible, but only in the mist do they disperse enough for his eyes to see them. Where the beams touch the spheres, they glow brightly. Where they do not, the spheres glow with only a faint luminescence of their own, clouded by murky forms in their translucent depths. There before Alptraum is one of the spheres that is untouched, which is lying atop of the spheres next to it, rather than forcing him to disturb the pile to dig his way to it. If only he is very, very careful…

Just to be careful, Alptraum breathes out a hot breath over the sphere he intends to take, to verify that there is no beam hitting it – hoping the moisture in his breath would reveal it. "Okay, if clear, I'm gonna carefully lift this thing off… " he decides.

The moment seems to stretch on forever. At last, he has his hand on the sphere. It's not an easy grip, for it is wet and sticky, and the sphere is soft and somewhat gives under his touch. There's no telling how fragile the contents are. It's impossible to pick up with one hand; he has no choice but to use both … but at last, it is his. He has it. If only he does not drop it. And there, as he holds it in his hands, pulling it back from the tight network of only occasionally seen beams of green light, he looks upward, catching sight of where the beams originate. They emit from what look like eyes of large bloated bugs clinging to the walls. They strike him with a certain look of familiarity. And then it hits him – they look like some of the insects he saw demonstrated in the weapons testing range – insects he and the other visitors weren't allowed to use.

These bugs (albeit at much smaller size) served as explosive ammunition for weapons. Those, of course, were small enough to fit in one's hand. These are large enough to be able to swallow up an Eeee like Alptraum, and be hungry for more. And they ring all the way around the ceiling.

Alptraum swallows. "Great, the dangerous weapons," Alptraum thinks. "Time to go," he decides and takes back to the air, being very mindful of the beams and searching for the shortest distance back to Autumn-Storm.

Autumn-Storm leans over the railing, as if ready to catch the orb should he throw it to her. (Granted, she surely can't tell just how fragile the thing really is, by looking at it from afar, and nothing in the description suggested it was anything other than solid and durable.) Behind her, one of the cells brightens, and the membrane on its surface convulses slightly, then darkens slightly once more.

Alptraum shakes his head no once, then motions with it toward the cell behind her.

Autumn-Storm shakes her head, not quite comprehending, and then she turns around. She covers her mouth reflexively, and backs away from the cell, then sputters and spits out goo – as her hands had accumulated a film of it from resting on the railing.

Alptraum heads back as quickly as he can safely. "That thing better not be waking up… " he thinks, that feeling of doom coming over him again.

At last, Alptraum makes it over. Autumn-Storm smiles as she sees him return, and starts to reach for the sphere, but then – as she sees how delicate it looks – she thinks better of it. "Now then," she signs. "There's just one more step we're supposed to perform. We have to find a 'green ray of light' and we're supposed to 'break' it. A beam of light, and you have to block it somehow. Like waving your hand through it. We can't take the sphere from the room safely until we do that."

"Green ray?" Alptraum says quietly, "There are plenty of those in here. I dodged many. Any idea where it is supposed to be? Near the door, perhaps?"

"Any one of them, I believe," Autumn-Storm signs.

"Uh, I don't know about any of them. If you block one, I bet you set off an alarm of some sort," Alptraum says. "What happens if we try to take it out without blocking a beam?"

Autumn-Storm signs, "The sphere explodes. It's some sort of trap. It doesn't make much sense to me, but those were my instructions. They were very clear on that point."

"Okay, then you go back to the other room and look for some loose item there we can block a beam with. I don't want to leave anything behind that could be tracked to us. I'll look for a nearby beam here while you do so," he replies.

"Why do I feel this is a setup? If we block a beam… " Alptraum thinks. "Something is very wrong."

Autumn-Storm looks about, then signs, "I think I see what you mean, now. I guess my night vision isn't as good as yours. I can only see them when the smoke is just right. How strange! I don't think we can even reach one of those from the walkway."

"This has to be a set-up," Alptraum says. "Wait."

"Let's think about this. If you didn't have a flyer along, could you have gotten down there safely and got one?" Alptraum asks, looking around. "I think we – namely you, a Savanite, was to be a distraction. You were supposed to set something off."

"A set-up?" Autumn-Storm frowns severely. "How can you say such a thing! Clenching-Fist wouldn't set me up. He … he loves me! You're just trying to – Alptraum! You're letting your jealousy and paranoia cloud your reason!"

"I'm not saying it was him. Someone could have lied to him, Autumn-Storm. Forget what I know about him and the fact I experienced him beating you before – YES! I've felt the pain he caused it. I lived it too. That is why I don't trust him. But, who cares whether or not I trust him, okay? I came on this to protect you. This was a setup, and I'm not sure who did it. Think about it for a moment, PLEASE!" Alptraum pleads.

Autumn-Storm stands stock-still, looking back at Alptraum. At last, she signs, "How do you know it's some sort of alarm?"

"Look up. Do you see those bugs above?" Alptraum asks.

Autumn-Storm looks upward, then nods, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the bloated creatures.

"Reason one; when I was here before, I saw smaller versions of those things, about the size of my hand. They were explosive ammunition for weapons that were being developed here. Reason two, I nearly cut a few beams getting this thing. When I get near, a sensation of dread rippled through me. I just knew I shouldn't cut one of the beams," Alptraum tries to explain. "And if you need proof, okay. Walk back into the hallway a ways. I'll walk through the doorway with this egg. If it explodes, I was wrong. You'll still be able to get out."

"Worst case, you're rid of me and out one egg. You can just come grab another and finish the mission," Alptraum says flatly.

Autumn-Storm's face betrays her working over this a few times. Her jaw tightens, but at last she looks down and shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I believe you. It … it must have been some sort of mistake."

"It could be something as simple as whomever offered to help your friend wanted us to cause a disturbance here to distract the tower. I don't think a non-flyer could have gotten an egg without tripping a beam. And if by some miracle you did, you were to trip one anyway," Alptraum says. "Still, I would suggest going down the hallway anyway. if I'm wrong, I don't want you going out with me, okay?"

Autumn-Storm puts a hand to her head. "You're not wrong … just … oh, I don't want to argue." She turns around, shuddering as she comes face to face with the "child" behind the membrane to one side of the door they came in. Then … its eyes snap open, glowing with an inner light of their own. Autumn-Storm swallows hard, and takes a careful step back and away, to the exit.

Alptraum now heads to the exit, pausing to look at the odd child. He gives Autumn-Storm some time to hopefully be clear should this thing explode, then swallows. "I hope you're not wrong about this, Traum. If you are, you're about to meet 'Mom' up close and personal," he thinks grimly. Then unflinching, the Eeee walks through the exit.

He walks. And walks. The orb vibrates maybe a little bit, just long enough to make him consider the fleetingness of life … but nothing explodes. He makes it back to the machinery room … and to the secret passage, where Autumn-Storm waits. Not even when he steps back into the tunnel does it explode.

"I imagine this thing is worthless, Autumn-Storm. You, nor I, were meant to get it out. We were 'expendable'," Alptraum says softly. "I'm sorry. I suspected this was a trap from the beginning."

Autumn-Storm frowns. "Well, we have it. We aren't dead yet. We'll just have to see this through to the finish. We can hardly be blamed for accomplishing our mission and managing to survive it if it was really some sort of decoy."

"Right. And I do hope your friend isn't involved, for your sake. Do you mind if I accompany you to the drop-off of the egg? If it all goes well, great. If not, I can watch your back and maybe get out of this alive," Alptraum replies. "And about your friend, I did mean just be careful, and I say it as a friend. The dream may be meaningless, but some Eeee rituals can make someone look like someone else. And they can insert a different mind into a body."

"The latter was to be my fate, before I was sent into hidden exile," Alptraum admits.

Autumn-Storm shakes her head. "And you could just be an illusion. If we think along those lines, we'll lose our sanity. Let's go." She heaves the ceramic door closed, checking to see that it has closed flush, then strides down the tunnel with purposeful steps.

"Who says I'm not," Alptraum mutters, then follows along. He carefully clutches the egg, trying to be sure not to damage it.