Professor James holds his breath, as rumblings emit from behind the walls, and stressed metal creaks and pops. And then … silence for a long moment … that is at last broken by a hiss of escaping steam.

Steam erupts from countless vents in the chamber, and Professor James cannot help but to throw up his hands and make a gasping choke in anticipation of his imminent death. The room fills with steam, obscuring all vision, though it feels … cool, not scalding.

The steam clears, revealing a marvelous chamber beyond.

Envoy tries to blow aside some of the steam by waving her hands, not wanting to risk using her wings in such a confined space. "I wonder if Doctor Bronson died of pneumonia? I don't think there will be other traps, given the mess, but we'd better be cautious about opening up anything."

Professor James coughs into one fist, and mimics Envoy by waving at the steam with his other hand, then takes off his glasses and pulls out the hem of his shirt to try to wipe them off. "I take it we aren't dead, then."

"I'm pretty sure we aren't," Envoy confides. "After all, the good doctor would have been here to greet us then, wouldn't he?" Looking over all the various apparati, the Aeolun doesn't know where to start … so she takes out her crown to see if it reacts to anything.

Envoy's crown glitters faintly, a twinkle on one side, a twinkle on the other. There may well be quite a bit in this room to agitate its ability to discern things of Sifran origins. Before Envoy has much of a chance to examine the crown, the professor has replaced his spectacles, blinks a few times, then exclaims, "My WORD! It's the Disc of Eras! It was stolen from the Tower of Beacons years ago! No one ever solved the crime … " He pauses dramatically. " … until now!" He points toward a table that holds a fairly small and unassuming looking disc, with a mirror-like reflective surface on the exposed side, and some sort of partial case of a plastic-like material obscuring part of its surface.

"Is it part of a calendar then?" Envoy asks, looking at the disc. It doesn't look to her much like a Vykarin star disc, though. "What is it for?"

"Well, there's been a great deal of speculation about that," the professor says. "It was from the earliest times – predating the arrival of the Expedition on Abaddon, that is. It's a relic of a technology of the Pioneers – a technology we have long since lost. We know only that it contained a considerable amount of information, along with other such information discs, but we never discerned how to obtain this information."

A glass cylinder of glowing green liquid burbles constantly nearby, and a vent lets out a soft hiss as an outrush of air stirs up the slowly fading cloud of steam.

Envoy risks taking a closer look at the artifact, without touching it. "This mirrored side may have optically encoded data on it then, possibly in microscopic flaws in the reflection or holographic interference patterns." Startling a bit at the hiss, she looks towards the bubbling cylinder. "How long do you suppose these … experiments … have been running unattended?"

Professor Jameson wipes off his glasses again, then peers about the chamber … though he doesn't venture to do so much as take a step further into it. Given that the floor is obscured in a tangle of cables and a lingering blanket of mist, he can hardly be blamed.

"Perhaps … four years?" Jameson guesses. "Quite possibly more." He looks as if he might be about to say more, but there is a click and a shudder somewhere beneath Envoy's feet, and another hiss, as something pops out of the ceiling and lowers right in front of Envoy's face. Jameson cries out, "Look out!" as the box-shaped thing pops open … revealing what looks for all the world like a tic-tac-toe board. This appearance is emphasized when a panel shutters open in the center square, revealing an "X".

Envoy slowly backs away from the contraption. "Do you think it wants a key or something?"

"I … have no idea, really," the professor says. "It's not like anyone ever had any keen insights into the workings of Von Bronson's mind. He was always regarded as fairly … eccentric." He adjusts his spectacles as he leans forward, squinting his eyes, but Envoy can far better make out what he's probably peering at – Engraved on the back side of one of the panels that opened up on the box is "Put Three Os in a Row".

"It's a game," Envoy says, after reading the inscription for herself. "One that is hard to win if you don't have the first move." She reaches out to tap the panel in the upper-left corner of the grid.

"But … you know what you're doing then?" Professor James prompts. As Envoy pokes the grid, it shutters out, revealing an "O", and immediately the top-most square shutters open as well, revealing an "X".

Envoy hmms, and reaches towards the bottom panel of the middle column to block … but pauses. "Three Os in a Row. I have to assume he means to win the game using Os, so I have to block the Xs from getting three in a row," she decides, and taps the panel to block.

"A fair assumption, I'd say," the professor says, as the bottom middle square shutters out to reveal an "O", and the upper right corner immediately shutters out to reveal an "X".

"Ah!" Envoy crows happily, and selects the lower left-hand panel to block the diagonal path of the Xs. "That was a mistake. I've won now."

As Envoy presses the lower left box, it shutters out to predictably show an "O" … and then there is a ratcheting sound. Suddenly, both the middle right and lower right boxes shutter out, revealing two new "X"s.

"Uhm … " The professor wipes his brow with a handkerchief. "I don't think … ah … " There's a rumbling noise, and jets of steam escape from several pipes.

Envoy blinks at this. "It … it cheated!"

The box slowly starts to rise upward, and around the room, some ratcheting noises can be heard.

The Aeolun spins around and leaps back towards the doorway. "Run!"

"B-but – " stammers the professor, as he helplessly turns about, where he has been standing all this time … as a large barricade descends from the ceiling, between himself and Envoy.

Envoy stops at the barrier, and puts the crown onto her head quickly to free up her hands, which draw out the halves of her staff from their sheaths on her back and try to screw them together before anything else happens.

With a loud creak, a panel opens up on one of the walls, revealing a little metal ball of some sort, with a rubbery wheel running around its hemisphere. Other panels begin to slide open as well, though one gets stuck halfway. The barricade, meanwhile, slams against the floor with a resounding thud, and Envoy can hear some banging on the other side.

Unsure of what the sphere will do … or what else might come out of the walls … Envoy searches desperately for something to hide in or under. She also keeps her staff held ready, in case it looks like she can jam it into something to stop the process.

A tinny sound echoes through the chamber, and it is only after a moment's listening that Envoy is able to associate the sound with a mechanical approximation of … laughter? "A voice from beyond the grave," it says, sounding like metal scraping against metal. "I jealously guard my secrets. None will awaken the Leviathan, save I!" At this, within five chambers that have opened up, each containing one of these small spherical contraptions, tubes disconnect from them explosively, hissing steam, and the balls wobble, then roll out of their containment. Even as Envoy finds purchase on a tangle of cables to lift herself off the floor, the little balls disappear into the blanket of mist, though they can be heard rolling about, emitting chattering, ratcheting noises … noises that seem to be getting closer.

"Bombs?" Envoy wonders out loud as she tries to climb higher while still holding onto her staff. She also wonders how the spheres can detect her at all, as she judges the distance to the top of the nearest filing cabinet.

It's a bit of a leap, and not a very practical situation in which to use her wings for much aid, but it's still within the realm of possibility for her to leap across. Failing, however, is bound to get her shins banged up, what with all these contraptions about, and their not-so-ergonomic designs. (There is an abundance of sharp pointy bits and exposed metal.) The balls roll and clink about, while the artificial voice laughs mockingly. "I wonder who you are?" The box, meanwhile, is nearly all the way back up to the ceiling. "The authorities, come to reclaim the documents I rescued from corroding away in your storehouses, where none would ever be able to read them? Perhaps the Imperials, come back to reclaim your Seed? Ha! There's nothing left for you to reclaim, as you no doubt see. A pity. It died in the adventure of bringing it back with me to New Zion."

The irregular sparking lights reflect off of a silvery glint that appears only momentarily in a gap in the hanging mists, as a ball rolls by, bumping against the wall somewhere not far from Envoy's current position. At least it didn't explode. Yet.

Shifting her grip to hold her staff with one hand, Envoy gets a firmer grip on the cables and reaches out as far as she can to jam the end of her staff into the hole in the ceiling that the box is retracting towards, blocking its progress.

The box comes to a grinding halt, pinning Envoy's pole in place in the process. It makes some whirring and then screeching noises, and some smoke starts seeping from some joints. If it had been allowed to continue, the box would have sunk flush into the ceiling, but the collapsing pole leading down to it has some room on either side – though certainly not enough space for Envoy to even dream of escaping from the room with. The tinny voice continues, oblivious to Envoy's actions. " … It's a pity, really. To the best of my knowledge, there may be other Seeds, on some of the other vessels of the Celestial Empire forced to ground in the great and doomed Expedition the Disc of Eras speaks of. Sinai … Ashtoreth … oh, just a stone's throw away, really. I think you can see why I never garnered a replacement. But then, you won't be needing it yourself much longer. Not that you Imperials ever knew what to do with it."

"Oh," the voice says, in an even more mocking tone, "I know! Let's call it holy, and worship it! A leafy, spherical idol. The plant that never withers! I wonder how many of your slithering priests will be gutting themselves once they see your precious 'plant' dead and dry, burst like an overripe melon?" The tinny voice laughs again, sounding more than a bit off-kilter.

Envoy turns to look at the desiccated plant she noticed when entering. That must be what I need to find on Ashtoreth, she thinks, and then goes back to trying to spot the noisy spheres rolling around in the mist.

She catches another glimpse of one of the little spheres of death rolling about, bumping against the wall even closer to her perch. Despite their spherical forms, they seem to mostly be rolling upon the rubber wheels running about their midsections, and emitting jets of steam as they go.

"Aren't you going to tell me how I'll die?" she complains to the recorded voice. "What do these balls do? They have to run out of steam sometime."

As for the desiccated plant, it looks very curious indeed. It looks much like a burst melon of some sort, once spherical possibly, framed in by a cage of withered vines. Envoy has seen her share of very strange plants and pods, but this has the look about it of a plant that has been deliberately formed into a sphere.

As if the voice were actually listening to her, the voice rattles on, "I weep for you, really I do. You missed such a splendid time. The Leviathan lived and breathed, though it was still incomplete. Ah, but for something to stabilize the quantum surges, and … of course … something to give it senses, a window into the real world. It thrashed about horribly and madly, until I was forced to shut it down. But I have learned a great deal from that experiment. Oh, they aren't nearly so wondrous, but I'm sure you'll appreciate the cleverness in their design. I call them 'juggernauts'." One of the spheres rolls to a position nearly under Envoy, and stops there. There's a high-pitched whir, and then the two hemispheres on either side split apart, revealing delicate metal appendages, and fragile but sharp-looking spines that spread out.

Envoy blinks down at the mechanical menace, and decides to try and jump to the nearest filing cabinet after all.

Swinging a bit on the cables to give her a little boost, Envoy throws herself towards the nearest cabinet, and actually manages to clamber up to the relative safety atop it without falling or dropping anything. She wonders if the Juggernauts home in on sounds now, since the one didn't seem to find her until after she'd spoken.

As Envoy lands neatly on the cabinet, it rocks a bit, but nonetheless seems capable of holding her relatively light frame. Behind her, something thin and very sharp looking shoots up into the air, imbedding in the wall near where she was previously, with a thin wire trailing down behind it, into the mists. There is another whirring, ratcheting sound, as the little mechanical ball-thing pulls itself up on the wire. The cabinet rocks slightly, as another "ball" bumps against its base.

Seeing the dart embed itself in the wall, Envoy reaches behind her into her pack, and retrieves the crystal box for her crown, intending to use it as a shield if possible … or to bash any of the little monsters that get close to her with.

Down below, there is a pop, and that ball splits apart as well. This one has a slightly different set of appendages that reveal themselves … an array of legs ending in suction cups. Two of them press themselves onto the surface of the cabinet with jerky motions, and the "ball" begins its slow ascent.

Envoy decides to wait until the climbing ball is close enough before dealing with it, and turns her attention back to the grapnel-flinging one. Taking a deep breath, she lets loose with her banshee wail at it to see if it has any effect – she'll have to worry about broken glassware and spilled fluids later.

Envoy's wail drowns out some of the tinny voice's monologue, but no glass actually shatters as a result. After that failed experiment, she can make out, " … so close, yet so far away. A couple decades more, and perhaps I would have completed the Leviathan," the voice drones. "I've even discovered the Sifran tool I would need for that. An 'Eye', I call it, appropriately enough. I've discovered several such Sifran artifacts, but, alas, they've all been quite stationary, and one simply can't go chipping off the pieces one wants."

About that time, the grapnel-ball finishes retracting its coil, and now hangs against the spike imbedded in the wall. The little spike screws in place, twisting itself free, while little hook-appendages cling to the mass of cables along the wall.

"But where did you find the crystals?" Envoy asks the ceiling while looking for another perch. "You can tell me. I'm not going anywhere after all."

Alas, as precognitive as the scientist might have seemed earlier, he doesn't seem to be about to reveal that part. "You'll never appreciate how hard it was to get all of this information. To decode the records of the ancients … to piece together an endless stream of ones and zeroes … to wrench meaning out of them, turn them into letters and numbers and rules and formats and maps and images! The mysteries I have unraveled would fill libraries! If any of you had recognized my true genius, you would have bowed down and worshipped me as a god, not exiled me to pursue my studies, denying me the resources I do desperately needed for my life's work! And so you pay the price! Oh, not just with your life … no, that's not quite enough. I want you to realize the genius you shunned. I want you, even as you cower in fear, even as you cry in anguish as my creations tear you slowly apart, to admire me!"

Envoy checks on the progress of the ball climbing the side of the filing cabinet, and also checks to see if the top drawer can be slid out without overbalancing the whole thing.

Alas, Envoy can't really tell without at least peeking in the drawer. Considering how many papers are crammed into everything, it might very well be that it's packed to capacity, and Envoy's additional weight on top of the cabinet probably doesn't help to keep its center of balance low to the floor. The suction-cup ball is still at the bottom drawer. (The climber's speed of motion is far more impressive, though it's presently still ponderously screwing itself free of the wall.)

The voice screeches, "You shun me, no doubt, think me an outlaw, a thief. The Seed was a spoil of war. Oh, yes, I've heard it before. 'The Expedition does not loot and pillage.' Nonsense. They just do so with treaties and contracts, a handshake and a fake smile. I am a little more direct in my methods. Rules are made to be broken. I recognize no law, save that for the laws of nature – and none of them are true laws, except that they cannot be broken!"

Deciding she has some time before the two menaces get to her, Envoy searches the floor for signs of any remaining juggernauts, as well as looking for obstacles in front of the cabinet should she decide to tip it forward deliberately.

It looks like there are a few stirrings in the mist on the floor just in front of the cabinet. There might be another ball down there. As it is, the cabinet is likely to hit one of the central tables just on the edge, if it comes crashing down. As Envoy hasn't had a chance to properly test the durability of the furnishings here, the exact outcome of that is uncertain, except that a great many things are likely to break – and given the nature of those things, there might be a small explosion or two. It is a mad scientist's laboratory, after all.

Envoy hmms, and looks at the various fluids and beakers, searching for something very sticky that could be used to gum up the internals of the juggernauts, or perhaps a container to trap them in.

Why, yes, there are quite a few containers, most of them glass or wood. The killer spheres are no larger in diameter, after all, than Envoy's own crown.

And as for the chemicals, there are all sorts of them. If only they had labels she could read from her vantage-point …

Meanwhile, the rappelling sphere finishes pulling its climbing spike free, and slowly rotates in place, until the pointy end is aimed at Envoy.

Envoy holds up her box in what she hopes is the right position to intercept the dart, and after a moment of thought actually opens it and faces the open section towards the robot.

*THWOCK* The dart launches toward Envoy, and imbeds itself inside the box, with a *chink* of Sifran crystal. Given that the spike seems to be holding, it must have wedged itself in one of the irregular seams inside, or perhaps this isn't the "indestructible" variety of Sifran crystal. (Perhaps that's the price of Morpheus being able to mold it so easily.) Envoy feels a tug as the little sphere starts reeling its line in.

The Aeolun keeps her grip on the sides of the box, also getting an idea of just how heavy the juggernauts are. If it fits in the box, I should have time to get the lid on and trap it for awhile, she thinks.

The line continues to tug, until, it seems, Envoy holds it steady enough that it seems to think it has a secure hold. Then, its spindly hooked legs release the cables, and it falls, banging against the side of the cabinet. Its rubbery wheel spins, rolling it up the side, as it continues to draw in the wire line, pulling itself closer to Envoy. Meanwhile, the suction-cup climber is up to the second drawer. Three more to go.

Envoy chews on her lower lip, and wonders again just what the critters use to sense her. "Three in a row," she mutters to herself. "Probe would have taken that literally and been correct." She risks a quick glance to the stuck box to see if the Xs and Os have reset themselves or not.

*SPROING* One of the balls is briefly visible, bouncing out of the mist-shrouded floor, crashing into a cluster of beakers on a low table near the cabinet. It then rolls about amongst piece of broken glass. As Envoy looks over to the box still hanging from the ceiling, where her sectioned pole remains (both halves still screwed together, and one end jammed in the retracting device) she can see that the display on the front of the box is precisely the way it left off, after the machine "cheated" by putting two Xs on at once.

Meanwhile, the rappelling ball rolls up to the top of the cabinet, its line still dangling down from the box. It continues reeling in the line, lifting itself off of the top of the cabinet, slowly climbing up toward the box. As if in anticipation, some nasty little bladed appendages sprout from its hemispheric sides and wave around, snipping against each other.

Not liking the look of those pincers, Envoy decides against trying to trap the ball and instead tries to swing it against the wall, hoping to break off the little arms.

As Envoy tries to swing the ball against the wall, several spikes on wiry extensions whip out, slashing against the Aeolun's forearm, drawing blood and sending pain shooting through her body – far more than a mere cut should warrant, and Envoy is treated to the sight of a small wisp of smoke rising from her wound. The ball smashes against the wall, but its spindly appendages are surprisingly durable … or else the fact that it bounced off of a rubbery cable covering might have shielded it somewhat. It swings wildly from the wire, slashing about, while the bouncing ball on the next table stops and extends a couple of "feet", crouching as if to spring in Envoy's general direction. The suction-cup climber is now up to the third drawer. There are several shrill whistles and hisses in the room, and Envoy can only barely make out snippets of the artificial voice's mocking laughter and occasional blathering.

Envoy cries out and drops the box so that she can pull out the darts in her arm.

The box hits the top of the cabinet hard, and plummets off the side, narrowly missing the suction-cup climber. As it falls, it pulls the rappelling ball with it, its slicing appendages tearing at cloth, but fortunately not flesh as it plummets downward and disappears in the mist again. Envoy pulls the darts free, and is struck with the realization that while her amazing regenerative powers should be already visibly helping to seal these wounds … they're not, and the areas immediately around them look an unhealthy, grayish hue.

Figuring she has to act quickly now while she can still use her arm, Envoy jumps from the cabinet towards her still-stuck staff, trying to catch onto it without falling.

" … Of course, if only I hadn't been forced to sneak the Seed out of the Shrine of Adoniranakh, it wouldn't have been damaged, and I wouldn't have come to this. Shortsighted fools!" the artificial voice can be heard shouting, even as Envoy leaps from the edge. "I dare say, Gerondisanakh and Sutaranakh are a mite bit far away … " Gerondisanakh. A bit of deja vu there. Envoy read something about that name during her studies in the College. Alas, as she's in the process of leaping from a cabinet and perhaps dying from a horrible toxin, now's perhaps not the best time to dwell on that.

As Envoy leaps from the cabinet, she realizes, too late, that she misjudged the distance, as her senses were blurred by the sharp pains running up her arm, and while she manages to grab the very edge of the staff, the stress is too much, as it snaps at the joint, and she falls, crashing onto one of the central tables, next to the dead "Seed". Glass shatters, and fragments tear into her, and she feels a variety of hot and cold stabbing sensations, as it seems that a great many of this mad scientist's concoctions are very hazardous to the touch. In fact, the hem of her garment is now blackening as if it were lit by an unseen fire, though that's probably one of the least of her worries.

For what it's worth, the bouncing ball of doom shoots through the air, slicing with blades at the spot where she was atop the cabinet, and crashes into a jumble of cables on the other side. The suction-cup climber still determinedly makes its way up, now up to the fourth drawer.

Amazingly enough, Envoy has somehow managed to keep hold of the half of the staff, a few splinters falling from the exposed metal screw-link joint that happens to be attached to her side. Above, the remaining section of staff wobbles, and threatens to fall loose.

Envoy uses the two-foot section of staff to help her get up out of the debris, and tries to locate the jumping and rappelling juggernauts.

The jumping juggernaut is presently nestled in a tangle of cables running along the wall, and appears to be trying to wriggle its way out. The crystal box can be dimly seen in the mist, upturned, and rocking back and forth. Another rolling ball is briefly glimpsed, making its way across the floor, roughly in Envoy's direction, and Envoy also can see the chamber that only partially opened, and a ball stubbornly knocking against the stuck panel – though it shows no signs of budging.

Aches run through Envoy's body, but she's able to get herself out of most of the debris. Fortunately, her thin layer of fur – and her clothes – actually offer her some buffering from many of the obviously less pleasant concoctions.

Envoy takes off her pack so she can remove her cloak, which she tries to throw over the still rolling ball in an attempt to catch it.

The cloak wavers in the air, seeming for an instant as if it will fold in on itself and miss the ball entirely … but then it collapses on the ball as it emerges from a puff of steam, and neatly covers it. The ball continues rolling, soon wrapping itself up in the thick folds of cloth, and then letting out a loud grinding noise as it gets stuck and flops about.

Meanwhile, the cloak continues to blacken, and then it actually does burst into flame – a greenish flame, as a matter of fact.

Above Envoy's head, there's a light crack, and a splinter dislodges, landing on the table nearby her, and sizzling as it hits a puddle of noxious fluid.

Envoy limps away from the burning mass, unsure if it will damage the ball any but not daring to get close enough to whack it with her club. Instead, she looks over the table closest to the file cabinet she recently vacated, and ducks under her own wings in an attempt to protect herself from more falling debris.

The table that the bouncing ball had launched itself from is largely clear of beakers, thanks to its rolling around. There are a few pieces of broken glass, and a dangerous-looking slightly sizzling puddle that really ought to be avoided, but they only cover a small portion of the fairly wide table. As for more debris, it doesn't seem that any more is forthcoming, though it does look like the remainder of her staff is fighting a losing battle against the mechanism that struggles to pull the puzzle-box back into the ceiling.

Nearby, there are various cabinets, shelves … machines crackling with energy (probably best not to touch those) … a work desk with various tools on it … a writing desk with the appropriate implements, and another one of those mechanical typesetting machines … and a horn-like shape sticking out of one wall, from which seems to emit that artificial-sounding voice. " … but you probably figured that out by now, haven't you? There's really no way to escape. You might as well just give up. But then, struggling is so much more exciting."

Meanwhile, the suction-cup climber ball-robot finally makes it up to the top, and rolls over to where Envoy used to be atop the filing cabinet, and its hemispheric sides pop open. Little wiry lashes with sharp-looking blades at the tips whip out in a whirlwind frenzy, and it makes chattering, whining noises as it does so. Then, just as suddenly, the slashing blades retract, and it seals up again, rolling around in place.

Envoy tries to lift up one of the writing machines, intending to drop it on the ball still trapped by the burning cloak, just in case it survives the flames.

Envoy's right arm feels numb, and she almost drops the machine on her own foot, but with a mighty heave …

… barely makes it just far enough to land the thing (boy, that was heavy!) right on top of the struggling ball. CRUNCH

A puff of steam escapes the flaming cloak, and it stops flopping about, letting out a shrill whistle that soon quiets. The bouncer-ball, meanwhile, falls free from its cables, and disappears into the mists covering the floor.

The thing Envoy just crushed … the bouncer … the rappeller … the suction-cup climber … there were five balls that escaped from the panels. Envoy hasn't seen just where the fifth one got off to. Could be anywhere … lurking about …

Envoy pauses to catch her breath, and takes off her the remains of her robe to try and catch the hopper once it shows itself again. She also keeps an eye out for the rappeller in case it escapes from the box finally, and makes her way back to the work desk to get up off the floor. Maybe one of the tools will be more effective than her broken staff as a club.

There is a large assortment of tools, many of them connected via coiled cables to the desk itself. Drills, grinders, rotating saws … also some sort of lantern, a magnifying glass mounted on a moveable mechanical arm, various picks, files, screwdrivers, clamps, pliers, and such.

Just then … something bumps against Envoy's foot.

Envoy jumps up onto the work desk as fast as she can!

She just barely makes it, as something slashes at the spot where her ankle was a moment ago. Ah, that must be number five. A probing appendage pokes around, while she knocks a couple of wrenches off the table in her haste to get to safer ground. Once again, her right arm fails her, its numbness putting her balance off, and she almost topples over while reflexively using it for support.

Envoy looks around quickly to see if the jumper is about to whack into her, and is forced to use her right wing as a crutch to compensate for her dead arm.

The jumper can be heard to roll around on the floor. It doesn't seem to have yet found a suitable spot from which to launch at Envoy. The ball that just attacked the spot where Envoy's foot was last located lets out some ratcheting noises. Must be up to something – and something no good, no doubt. Perhaps the most comforting thing right now is that nothing is moving where the flaming cloak and type-machine are located on the floor, and the crystal box is still rocking back and forth.

Envoy picks up one of saw-tools with her left hand, and tries to figure out how it works, wishing she had an extra typewriter now.

*whirr*! Fortunately, she is able to figure out pretty quickly what the business end is, and the trigger appears to be fairly straightforward. The spinning blade looks fairly dangerous.

Releasing the trigger, Envoy sets it down within easy reach. With her hand free again, she grabs her loose robe and tries to locate the fifth ball by its noise so she can drop it on it.

Yes, it's probably right about … there. In fact, verifying this thought, the ball rises up within view. At first, it seems as if it might be levitating … but, no, it seems to be extending itself upward on some sort of spindly tripod legs.

Envoy blinks and throws the robe at the thing, then grabs up the saw and tries to swing the whirring blade down on top of the ball.

The robe flops over the top of the ball, covering it, and causing it to wobble on its legs. It hasn't a chance to react in time to avoid the spinning blade that comes down on it, shredding cloth and sending up sparks as it cuts into metal. Smoke and steam rise from the ball, and then it lets out a shriek of stressed metal and collapses to the floor, under what's left of the robe. It shudders, then lies still.

Turning off the saw, Envoy replaces it on the desk and reaches down to retrieve the remains of the robe, since she'll probably need it again. to deal with the others. She also does a quick check on the climber and rappeller to see if they're still in the same spots as before.

There's a disconcerting creak from the "stuck" panel holding in the sixth ball. Could it be that it shifted? There might be another one joining the fun. The rappeller, for what it's worth, is still under the box. The climber is daintily making its way across the outer wall, rolling across some conduits, and picking its way around braces that block its path. As long as Envoy doesn't stay in one place too long and take a nap, she can probably keep away from that slow but determined menace. The "hopper", however, might be another matter. And for right now … she can't see it.

There's a *whump* from the ceiling, as the metal puzzle box jerks down just enough for the other end of Envoy's staff to fall free and clatter on the floor, disappearing into the carpet of mist. It would appear that the puzzle-box is no longer jammed.

Envoy stares wide-eyed at the box to see if it comes back down or finishes rising into the ceiling, just as she was about to retreat to the floor so that she could duck better when the jumper finally shows itself.

In this particular split second, the box is still some distance down from the ceiling. Now that it's free, that's not likely to stay that way for long.

Envoy finishes getting onto the floor, the remains of her robe clutched in her mouth, and pulls on the chord for the handsaw to see how long it will stretch. She realizes she could just use the saw itself to cut the chord, but figures it must be providing the power for the spinning blade.

The cord has a surprising amount of play. It most likely could be hauled all the way across the chamber with a bit of slack. A pulley mechanism with a spring arrangement to roll back excess slack keeps the extra cord from tangling too easily, but doesn't pull so hard as to make it difficult to move the tool about.

Encouraged by this, Envoy spares a look at the still trapped sixth ball to see if she can reach it and disable it without exposing herself too much.

Yes, it looks like she just might be able to do that. But at the rate the puzzle box is rising to the ceiling, it's unlikely she can do that before the box disappears. Not that this is necessarily of import, of course. For all she knows, the box disappearing into the ceiling will make her situation not the least bit worse than it already is. After all, how could it possibly get worse?

Envoy worries less about the box now, than about the hidden jumper. She raises up her left wing and waves it about slightly to try and draw it out, assuming it keys off of motion somehow. She still hasn't figured out how the balls find her.

Just then, the "hopper" launches itself across the room. Oh, if only there weren't pain searing through Envoy's arm, and plenty of other places about her body! It slams into her back, and then falls to the table, whirring menacingly, and starting to unroll, revealing several nasty-looking, serrated appendages.

Envoy cries out, and tries to scramble around to catch the ball in the fragments of cloth before it can move again.

The slashed fabric seems woefully inadequate to contain the killer device, as it rends and tears right through the material, darkening the edges of the tears as it does so. Something's unhealthy here, that's for certain.

Having lost the saw when she was hit, Envoy grabs for the drill before diving underneath the workbench.

The power cord of the drill draws out behind Envoy as she rolls to the floor, and the pulley arrangement whirrs as it rolls out more cable … as it does so, catching the ball-robot and sending it rolling off of the table, clattering into some fallen beakers.

Envoy winces, having hoped to keep the bench top between her and the jumper. Still, she triggers the drill and moves carefully towards the beakers.

Spindly legs emerge from the mist, reaching out and probing at the floor from where the partially opened ball-robot lies amidst sizzling fluids, its little mechanical innards visible through the gaps in its opened shell.

The Aeolun jerks back at the motion and sight of the leaking fluid, but recovers quickly and jabs the drill bit into one of the openings.

*WHIRRRR – ZZZZZZZT!* Flakes of metal spray out from the little robot, as its spindly legs flail about violently, whipping at Envoy's face … but then, with a shuddering whine, they stop and fall limp. A burning smell rises from the drill bit, and a wisp of smoke.

Meanwhile, there's a crunching noise from near the ceiling, as the puzzle box is now back up just shy of closing into the ceiling, cracking through a few splinters of the staff that were stuck in place. Going …

Not trusting the chemicals, Envoy abandons the drill and goes back to recover the handsaw. She jumps nervously at the cracking sound, and checks to see how close the climber-whipper has gotten.

The climber is leisurely making its way around, almost to a point where it can drop onto the edge of the work desk now. However, Envoy manages to recover the saw. Another crack, and the last splinter falls free. Going.

Envoy sets the saw down on the floor, and recovers the broken half of her staff, which she keeps a hold on and squats down below the level of the bench top. She watches the box with mixed feelings. If she hadn't jammed it, it would have been flush with the ceiling long before Bronson's recorded tirade was over, so she doesn't think anything terrible will happen once it's finished retracting.

Yes, it is a bit quieter in here – except for the occasional click, whirr, hiss and crackle – as the tirade has finished off, and the box slowly disappears into the ceiling. Click. Gone.

There's a rattle from the sixth panel, as it finally slides open. A ball rolls out … and instead of falling to the floor, one hemisphere pops open, and a foursome of little blades extend out. They begin spinning … and the ball flies out from the chamber, and into the air!

Envoy lets out her breath, and peeks over the edge of the workbench to see if the climber is ready to drop yet, holding the remains of her staff ready to hopefully snag the whips when they come out.

As Envoy peeks over the edge … she is rewarded by a flurry of whipping blades that slash wickedly at her face! She reflexively averts her face in time to avoid getting it in the eyes, but the pain is excruciating! And she can hear the little flying drone getting closer … closer …

Envoy ducks back down and tries to crawl under the workbench to safety, hoping the flyer will get hit by the whips until she can bring her club around to defend herself. She tries not to cry from the pain of her gashed face, not wanting to blur her vision further.

Just then, the little whirring robot ducks down, extending a couple of spinning blades as it pursues Envoy … and, in a wonderful case of fulfillment of wishful thinking … runs right into the whipping blades! There is a terrible screech, as the spinning blades tangle with each other, and start tearing each other apart, and two roughly spherical robot devices fall to the floor, rolling into the blanketing mist.

Envoy curls up and listens to the carnage … or more specifically listens for survivors.

As the pain throbs through her face, and she is able to verify that, yes, she can still see, she is able to see whipping blades flail about … then the robots tear each other apart … and lie in a smoldering heap. Soon, there is only the sound of humming machinery, crackling electrical equipment, and the thump-thump-thump of the rappeller robot still trying to get out of the crystal box. Oh yes, and some loud thuds coming from the barricade that's blocking her in the room. It sounds like the professor must have gotten help, though it so far still hasn't amounted to anything.

Envoy crawls out from under the workbench finally, and tries to figure out what to do next. She goes to recover the drill, and looks over the bit to see if it's been damaged by the acid from the jumper.

The bit is darkened, maybe a little blunted by grinding against metal, but otherwise still capable of doing damage.

Envoy makes her way back towards the trapped rappeller, glad for her boots as she can't always see where broken class or puddles of chemicals cover the floor.

This time, no hidden robots assault her, and she doesn't manage to injure herself any further. There's no telling whether she could take much more at her point. Below her, the little ball-robot rolls one way, then the other, bumping against the sides of the box, in which it can be dimly seen through the translucent crystal.

Envoy watches the little robot, and tries to figure out how to get to it without letting it free using just one hand. Nothing practical that doesn't involve exposing herself to the poison darts comes to mind, so she just looks around for something suitably heavy to stack on top of the box for now.

Well, there is a type machine that might be hauled up. Doing it one-handed might be a little easier since she doesn't have to throw it, and isn't presently being mauled by a killer robot.

"I shall trap with … the weight of words!" Envoy declares somewhat hoarsely, and drags the typewriter over to hold down the box, then returns to where she left her pack to pull out her canteen and first-aid kit.

After applying what first aid she could and bandaging up her various punctures, cuts, burns and scrapes, Envoy uses a few shreds of her robe to bind her right arm against her chest. That taken care of, she picks up the handsaw and approaches the barrier with a determined look in her eye.

Sunlight filters in through gauzy curtains, illuminating the form of a reclining Aeolun, bandaged and resting on white linens in an antiseptically clean hospital room. A lupine nurse in a neatly pressed uniform (also white) steps into the room. "You have a visitor, Madame Lothrhyn," the nurse says, admitting a sheepish-looking human who pushes his spectacles up the bridge of his nose with one hand, then returns it to worrying the brim of his fedora that he holds in the other.

Professor James nods, and lifts one hand to rub at the side of his head. "Ah … I'm terribly sorry about all that happened back there. I really … shouldn't have … well … I should have been more helpful."

Envoy smiles to the man. "That's alright. You had to explain things to Colonel Vesuvius I imagine, which couldn't have been any easier than what I went through. Was anything useful recovered from the lab, and that surviving robot neutralized? I'd like my box back after all."

James shudders at the mention of the colonel's name. "Well … he's still not quite … ah … finished with me, yet. I really hope this doesn't lead to some sort of international … er … interplanetary incident, that is. And, yes, we got your box back. The robot is being examined. Oh yes … and I was curious about the puzzle box, so I took that apart myself. Uhm … the solution was fairly … weird, really."

"Just press three panels in a row, and ignore the X ones, I take it?" Envoy asks, sounding curious.

"Why, yes, actually," the professor says, and chuckles nervously, then smoothes his hair again. "In any case, I'll make certain you have access to our findings. Von Bronson actually did find a way to read the light-disc, though there is a great deal of corruption of the data. It's fascinating, really … vessels from the stars … an expedition to explore our system … a disaster trying to get closer to Sinai, and then the remaining ships were unable to go faster than the speed of light … and were forced to put down on habitable worlds. This, of course, would be one of them."

"I mean," the professor amends, "this isn't really new. We have our records, you see … but this is just such a fresh way of looking at it all. A great deal more detail than has survived over the ages."

Envoy nods, and asks, "Any maps recovered? Bronson found some interesting Sifran crystal deposits. Oh, and that dried up plant belongs to the Imperials, and is apparently very important to them. The Leviathan never worked either, according to the doctor's recording. Were you able to replay that?"

"Yes, actually," the professor says. "We have quite a bit of material to go on. Not to mention several recovered relics that were thought long gone. It seems that the doctor was quite ruthless in his acquisition of resources."

"Ah, we're covering all medical expenses," Professor James adds. "And we'll try to see to it that your damaged personal effects are replaced, to the best of our ability."

Envoy rests back against her pillow. "I learned what I need to look for on Ashtoreth at least," she sighs. "No leads on the power source for the Leviathan though, unless you've come up with something? I'm grateful for your help, and sorry to have caused so much trouble by nearly getting killed. Poor doctor Bronson … he so had his heart set on those juggernauts being unstoppable."

Professor James quickly hides a smirk at Envoy's pity for the mad scientist. "Well, actually, it would seem, oddly enough, that the desiccated plant you found in the center of the chamber was the power source. Some sort of an organic technology that we believe predates even the Celestial Empire that the Imperials hail from, and which they used in their star-faring vessels. It's also referred to as the "Egg", but really, it's some sort of organic reactor … or something along those lines. We really don't understand the technology, and there's not quite anything left for us to really study, sadly enough. We're returning the remains to the Empire."

"Nothing on where Bronson found his crystal from, though?" the Aeolun asks, as her only lead apparently withers away.

"We've got a few sites to look at," the professor says. "There are a few known Sifran crystal sites – large clusters of crystal quite solidly attached to the ground, really. His notes might give us a better insight as to the possible function of these sites. But I'm not certain how much use it might be to you."

Grinning, Envoy admits, "I don't know either. It's what I'm here to find out. I need to find … a living magical essence of metal. It's vital to my magery."

The professor nods. "Well, I'll do what I can to help you, then. Until then … well, I suppose you should probably rest up. If you need anything … just send for me. And thank you, for all you've done. I don't think I would have survived back there."

"Well, Bronson was expecting either the Expedition or Imperials to be the ones to break in," the Aeolun says. "Nobody ever expects me."