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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Ten: La Liberté. Part Two.

    September 27th, 2017

    Part Two.

    The temperature must have been colder than Max remembered it, because he couldn’t stop shivering as they walked along the river. That had not changed at least, still winding her way through the quarters under bridges and cutting her way down south. However, walking along it made Max even colder, the gentle water seeming to suck warmth straight from the air itself.

    “Here,” Leonardo offered him his jacket, made of a course wool and held together by a single line of metal teeth that came together cleverly.

    “M-merci,” Max said through chattering teeth.

    Richard did not seem affected by the cold, but he was English, so that was to be expected, at least according to Maximilien. They were all cold hearted.

    “Is there another place we could go?” Richard asked, lowly. People passed them on the street but did not seem to pay any attention to them. However it seemed to Max that every passing glance was going to catch onto their furtive actions, and they would be sent back to Rain, or worse, to the alien.

    Maximilien stopped, looking over the river. They were walking along the same path he used to take to the Jacobins.

    “If my club is still there, we’d be welcomed.” Probably.

    “And what does that entail? Richard asked, dubiously.

    Max rubbed at his temples. “They are good men, who only ever held the best interests of the people in their hearts.” He stared at Richard coldly, lowering his hands. “Not that you would understand that-“

    Richard growled. “Listen you little-“

    Before Leonardo could intervene or Richard could finish his insult Maximilien turned a corner and stopped dead, causing them all to trip into each other.

    “Robespierre?” Leonardo tapped him gently. “What is wrong?”

    Max, speechless, simply raised his hand and gestured. The other two men finally looked up.

    “My god,” Richard breathed.

    “Dio mio,” Leonardo agreed.

    “That, was not there the last time I was here.” Max said dryly.

    Ahead of them, rising over what must have been the very heart of the city was a tall metal sculpture. It rose like a mountain over a plain, lit up in golden lights, illuminating the entire city. It was dazzling and Maximilien couldn’t quiet decide if he adored it, or hated it. Leonardo started toward it, eyes wide.

    “What is it?”

    “I have no earthly idea. A building of some sort?” Max guessed. Leonardo had whipped out his notebook and was sketching it furiously, seeming entranced by the thing.

    They all jumped when a voice spoke from behind them.

    “First time in Paris?”

    The speaker was an older woman, with a cart of plants. She wore a long grey and yellow striped scarf around her head, and her brown eyes studied them intently. She adjusted her cart so it was carefully between them.

    “Ah, yes?” Leonardo spoke for them all, the smallest hesitation in his voice. Maxime coughed, struck by the sudden insane urge to laugh.

    “La dame der fer is beautiful, no?”

    Richard pointed. “That?”

    “Oui. She’s stood there for over a thousand years. She’s been rebuilt twice, but she’s made her way through.” The woman looked at it fondly, and it suddenly struck Max that this was his national kin.

    “Are you from Paris, citizeness?” The title slipped out without him meaning it to, and he winced. The woman cast him an odd look.

    “Oui.” She grinned suddenly and snapped her fingers. “The north?”

    Max inclined his head bashfully. He was never going to lose his Artoise accent and had been teased about it more than once from Camille. “Oui.”

    “I am surprised you have not been to visit, then. Too much time in Monaco?” She waved the thought away, smiling playfully. “Ah it does not matter. Young people. If you are going to see her, you need to continue down this rue.” She winked. “She is hard to miss.”

    Max bowed. “Merci beaucoup, madame.”

    She shook his hand when he rose, her soft hand gripping his firmly. “And thank you for your service, sir,” she told him gravely, before hefting her cart away.

    “Service?” Richard asked when they started away. Maximilien shrugged.

    “I don’t know what she meant.” He looked at Leonardo, biting his lip, a sudden thought occurring to him. “You don’t think she recognized us, do you?”

    “She thought you were a solider, your scars.” Leonardo waved at his own face and neck. Max felt his stomach drop to his shoes.

    “Oh.”

    “You should be honored. She thought that you had been in battle.” Richard remarked.

    Maximilien stayed silent. He still didn’t quite know how to feel about the bullet scars on his face. They pulled and itched fiercely, and he was uncomfortably reminded of that day. The smell of blood, and gun powder in the air. Augustin screaming, Couthon’s body thudding to the ground. The bang of the gun going off in Phillipe Le Bas’s hands.

    He shuddered.

    Night had settled in around them and Max looked up at the stars. Or he tried to. Nothing more than a few distant pinpricks of light could be seen. He blinked in bewilderment.

    “What on earth happened to the sky?”

    The other two stopped and looked up. After a moment Richard growled and pinched the bridge of his nose.

    “What else? Lands hand sank beneath the ocean, the stars are gone, and I’m in Paris. Did the end of days happen and no one notice?” He demanded at large. For a horrifying moment Maximilien found himself agreeing.

    Leonardo was still staring upward.

    “It’s the lights,” he muttered after a moment.

    “Pardon?” Max asked.

    Leonardo gestured around. “All these lights, they are much stronger than candles or fires, si?”

    “Yes.”

    “All of the light they are giving off, it is obscuring the stars.” He shrugged, then stiffened, a wide-eyed look of amazement coming over him. “Which would mean the same thing happens during the day when the sun is out! Which would mean that the stars are stationary as well!” He clapped, beaming widely. “I knew it!” Richard snorted.

    “The sun is not stationary. It goes around the earth.”

    Maximilien raised a hand, smiling slightly. “Actually it does not. Leonardo is right, the sun is the center and all the other planets rotate around it.”

    Both of them looked at him in silent amazement. Max shrugged.

    “It was taught to me in Louis le Grand. I’m sorry if I don’t know the specifics.”

    “I was right?” Leonardo sounded stunned, a deep contrast to the confident tone he’d been using till then. “Dio mio.”

    “Never mind that, what the devil do you mean, the earth isn’t the center? The Lord made it,” Richard demanded. “That’s what the Church says.”

    “Yes, and it’s incorrect,” Maximilien raised his eyebrows in emphasis.

    Richard looked between the two of them.

    “Heretics. I’m surrounded by heretics,” he muttered, jaw set. Maximilien could barely prevent himself from rolling his eyes.

    Leonardo seemed to have shaken himself from his amazed stupor. He let out a nervous little chuckle.

    “We should keep moving, si? We still have no place to sleep tonight,” he pointed out. Maximilien nodded, then gestured.

    “It’s this way.”

    Or it used to be.

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Ten: La Liberté. Part One.

    September 21st, 2017

    Episode Ten: La Liberté.

    Part One.

    It was evening and Richard was half asleep when He became aware that the vehicle was descending. They’d all started falling asleep somewhere over the ocean, a sight so enormous that even Leonardo had been disturbed by it. Robespierre had been the first to go, slumping over with his hands protectively curled over his chest. The Leonardo, leaning against the window and muttering in Italian. Richard had tried to stay awake, instincts reminding him strongly he could easily be in a vehicle with two people who would see him dead. However eventually the monotony of the location and the comfortable interior wore him down and Richard had found himself slipping into a sleep-like trance.

    He reached over and shook Leonardo roughly.

    “I think we are nearing Paris.”

    The Italian snapped awake near instantaneously. Which was good because the invisible woman who spoke to them came back on.

    “Nearing the city of Paris. The capital of the country of France, and largest European nation. Please enter address.”

    Robespierre was still dead to the world so Richard very gently threw an apple at his head.

    “We are in your precious Paris. Where can we go to spend the night?” He barked at the blurry eyed Frenchmen.

    “Ah, 398 Rue Saint Honore,” he muttered, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses.

    “Address Accepted. Arrival estimated, six minutes.”

    Leonardo stretched, arms bending behind his head and flexing his spine off the seat.

    “Where is it that we are going, Robespierre?” He asked, twisting.

    “My home, the Duplays should-” Suddenly Robespierre cut himself off, looking stricken. “Oh.”

    Richard turned on the bench to stared at him with incredulity. “Did you give us a dead man’s location?”

    Robespierre opened his mouth to respond, cheeks already flushing with anger, before Leonardo smoothly cut across them.

    “It’ll give us a starting point. All we need is a place to land, and this is good enough. We are never going to get anywhere with the two of you sniping at each other every five minutes. Dio mio, make you peace already!”

    Richard and Robespierre stared at each other for a few moments before turning away. Leonardo looked at each other them in turn and muttered something under his breath. Richard thought he heard the words, ‘gone by myself’ and bristled slightly. However before he could the vehicle dropped gently to the ground with a thump. All three of them clutched the seat in surprise.

    “Well, I suppose we are here,” Leonardo commented, still sounding sour with the two of them. He pushed a button on the central console and the machine’s light’s extinguished. The tiny chip that he’d used to start the vehicle up slid out and Leonardo grabbed it, stowing it away in some interior pocket. He turned to look at Richard and Robespierre with a raised eyebrow.

    “Coming?”

    XXX

    Maximilien couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten that the Duplay family would be long dead. In the dreamy moment between sleep and waking he’d thought himself still in the year two of the Revolution. He could have sworn that he could hear the familiar clatter of the workmen just outside his window, the sounds of Brount barking, the footsteps coming up the staircase to his rooms.

    He clambered out of the flying carriage, and looked up at the rooms that used to be his.

    They were gone. There was a large glass building in it’s place. The lights were dim and reflected the starlight.

    Max felt all of the air in his lungs pushed out, as if someone had hit him in the chest. It felt as if he’d been shot all over again.

    “It’s gone. It’s completely gone,” he whispered. Leonardo gently patted his shoulder.

    “I am sorry, Robespierre.”

    He stared at the building, backing away. He looked down when his heel hit against a metal plaque.

    “Residence of Maximilien Robespierre from 1790 till his death 1794.” Richard read, looking down at it.

    Maximilien stared down it numbly.

    So this was what he came down to? A small plaque on the ground, dully noting his death. His position wasn’t even noted. He wondered if his, Charlotte and Bonbon’s house in Arras was gone too. The thought that it might be gone felt as if someone had forced a large icicle into his chest, sharp and cold. He swallowed heavily, and set his jaw.

    “I’m fine. I would not expect them to memorialize me, not if Billaud, Barere, and Collot d’Herbois persisted in saying I had mastery over the Committees.” He clenched his hand at his side.

    The cool night was closing around them and street was quiet. Somewhere a dog barked and Max was struck with a homesickness for his family so intense that for a moment he thought he was going to be ill. Instead he took and deep breath and gestured down the avenue.

    “The Seine is that way. It will take us to the heart of Paris, if nothing else. Or the Tuileries is behind us.”

    Leonardo, still looking at him softly, nodded.

    “Lead on, Robespierre, you know the city best,” he offered quietly. Richard rolled his snorted and re-adjusted the bag on his shoulder, but held his tongue.

    Max nodded and with a shuddering breath turned away from the glass building.

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Nine: Lions and Tigers and Boars. Part Two.

    September 14th, 2017

    PART TWO.

    Rain woke to the sound of someone banging furiously on her bathroom door.

    “Doctor Miller! I know you are in there! The humans you brought back are gone, open the door!”

    Rain grinned to herself. She knew they would figure out something.

    Three men who had been dead for a thousand years, lose in the world, and on the run from the government?

    Now this was becoming interesting.

    Rain grabbed her cane and hoisted herself to her feet. She made her way leisurely over to the locked bathroom door, trying not to look too pleased when she opened the door.

    “Oh dear. Where ever could they be?” She opened her eyes wide and looked up at the alien. Maltass sneered. “Do not toy with me. This is a diplomatic incident and as soon as your government hears about this, you will be in prison and those things you made will be destroyed.”

    A buzzing sound overhead made Rain look up, eyes going wide with genuine shock now. She looked back at the ambassador who dipped their head in satisfaction.

    “Ah, there they are now!”

    “You- you didn’t actually call them, did you?” Rain sputtered.

    “I contacted your head of security, Major Chikara, directly,” Maltass hissed.

    Rain attempted to rush past the alien, only to grabbed firmly by the back of the neck in their large hand.

    “Let me go! You don’t know what you’ve done!” She snarled and attempted to hit the Komali with her walking stick.

    “Causing trouble again are we, Doctor?”

    A tremor went up her spine and Rain looked down the hall. At the top of the stairs stood Marie Rivera, Chikara’s metaphorical right hand. The tall heavily built woman looked down her snub nose at Rain. Officers of the federation rushed up the stairs and grabbed the stunned Rain from Maltass’s grasp, quick clapping a pair of electro-magnetic cuffs on her. She dropped her cane as she wrists twisted over on another, effectively making it impossible for her to use her hands together. The officer dragged Rain forward, tight grasp on her shoulder both restraining and supporting her as she was made to stand in front of Marie.

    “I always knew it would come to this. Doctor Rainbow Miller, you are under arrest for treason and banned experimentation. Anything you say can and will be held against you. You will be held at the South west labor camp to await tr-” Marie cut herself off and put a hand to her ear, frowning.

    “Yes, I understand. Alright.”

    Marie clicked her fingers at her helmeted officers.

    “Change of plans. Chikara wants to see to Miller personally. We’re headed to headquarters.”

    “Personally?” Rain asked, despite the cold slimy worms of fear crawling through her belly. People always did say she had more curiosity than sense.

    Marie smiled. It was a beautiful smile. She had a full broad face, with eye’s so pale they almost seemed gold, and dimples in both cheeks. However, it only served to make Rain shudder, despite its beauty.

    “Oh yes. Chikara is very curious to follow up on these claims about the technology you stole. She promised the Komali she would investigate personally. It means she’s going to want to speak to you,” Marie leaned in closer, to where Rain could feel her peppermint scented breath waft over her, “One on one.” Marie clicked her fingers again. “Load them up and let’s move out!”

    XXX

    Chikara Haruka was not a tall woman. She was shorter than even Rain, which in a world where the average height was six foot even and you were only five eight was impressive. Despite this Chikara’s presence seemed to have no problem making up for what her size lacked. From her carefully starched uniform and shiny black hair, pinned back in a severe bun, Haruka’s bearing suggested a person who did not suffer fools or mischief makers lightly. Marie went to Chikara’s side, speaking quietly. Rain was held back by two massive guards, arms pinned down.

    Rain had only met Chikara in passing, when she had first started working for the Federation. As officials, both excelling in their fields, both had been pressed into going to the occasional balls or galas that the Federation had. Rain had the feeling that Chikara was much like herself, more interested in field work than the pomp and circumstance of bureaucracy. Rain caught sight of a plain gold band on her finger and mused that her marriage to Zebadiah had not gentled her at all. However, considering the circumstances of her marriage, Rain could understand why.

    Chikara Haruka’s wedding had been highly publicized. She had been wedded to a member of an alien species as the final effect of a long reaching treaty. Rumor had it that Chikara had only been chosen because she was the only unmarried member of the high government.

    Rain wondered if Chikara knew that Zebadiah also has the technology blueprints as well.

    Zebadiah shook his head. “Alright. Then I’ll tell you plainly. If you do not give me the data on this technology, I will report it, and you will find yourself on a labor farm in short order, never again to work with science. And then I will still take it when the government seizes your possessions. So you can give it to me the easy way, or you can give it to me the hard way. Regardless I will have it.”

    Rain smirked.

    ‘Joke’s on you Zeb. Your wife is a step ahead of us both. But I bet she wants to be rid of you far more than me.’

    Marie stepped back from the shorter woman, who eyed Rain, brown eyes blank and emotionless.

    “Doctor Miller, do you know why you’re here?”

    “Because you’re a fascist,” Rain relied flippantly, smiling.

    Marie sneered, however Chikara didn’t change her expression even slightly.

    “Doctor Miller, why did you take the data from the Komali, despite having electrically signing a contract with the Federation?”

    “Because I could.”

    “Doctor Miller do you understand that you have broken the law and you are going to be charged in jury of your peers, before going to prison?”

    Rain held her head up proudly. “Yes. I don’t care, information should be free to use. I don’t mind going to prison for doing my job.”

    Chikara’s eyes flared with emotion suddenly.

    “Your job? You’ve endanger the life of every person on this planet. Not just from Komali, but from those things you brought back,” Chikara stabbed the air empathetically. Marie handed her the tablet, and Chikara frowned thunderously, scrolling though whatever was there.

    “Savages. Murders. Imbeciles. And you’ve loosed them on the public.” Chikara looked up, and Rain’s confidence started to sieve out of her. “Before I put you onto a labor farm for the rest of your life Doctor Miller, you will help us catch the beasts you made, willingly, or by any force required.”

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Nine: Lions and Tigers and Boars. Part One.

    September 12th, 2017

    PART ONE.

    While Maximilien couldn’t fully relax, not with knowing how far away the earth was, he decided that if he sat in the middle of back bench, and concentrated on the tablet that Leonardo had passed back to him.

    An uneasy silence had fallen over the three men, and Max was uncomfortably aware this was the longest the three of them had been alone together. By themselves, without potential supervision or intervention. A shiver raced up his spine, and he held himself more stiffly against the leather seat.

    “I wonder how long it will take to get to Paris?” Richard asked suddenly, looking over at Leonardo, who had taken the opportunity to press his face against the glass and was scribbling furiously.

    “Tap the center panel, it has the rout mapped out for us, and will have an estimate.” Leonardo never took his eyes off the ground. Max leaned over slightly, trying to see past the other man’s broad shoulders. He caught sight of swirling sketches, thick lines and sprawling city maps.

    Richard raised an eyebrow but sighed and did so.

    “Seven hours?!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dear lord.”

    “It’s faster than three to six months it would have taken us.” Leonardo pointed out mildly. Maximilien smiled slightly.

    “Less comfortable though,” Richard grunted and stretched his back. “An ale wouldn’t go amiss right now.” Max noticed that Leonardo turned all of his attention to the man when he did this, intelligent brown eyes watching carefully. His pen stopped abruptly and Leonardo flipped to a blank page, rapidly scratching out curves.

    “Well the faster we get there, the faster you can have your ale,” Leonardo said calmly.

    “Praise the lord,” Richard said dryly.

    XXX

    Clio sighed and sat down cross legged on the self piloted hover car. The three men inside did not know that technically, their trans-Atlantic flight in vehicle as small as this shouldn’t be possible, but she did. At the moment she was using her own personal powers of plot to move them more quickly forward. If anyone ever caught on to them, she felt confident in her ability to navigate them away from danger.

    “You’re an awful lot of trouble for minor bi-pedals, you know,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

    “Humans, they think they know everything,” Spectra said, sitting down next to Clio. “You should see mine. He’s already stopped an assassination attempted and found roommates and he’s only been there for twenty-four hours!” The anthropomorphic hyena grinned proudly.

    “If only, I’ve put up with weeks of this,” Clio rapped her knuckles on the roof.

    Spectra smiled even more widely, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. They hung past her lips, shiny and clean. “Oh please, I know you like the hard cases, and humans most of all.”

    Clio sniffed dismissively but did not refute the other Muse’s rather appropriate understanding of Clio’s unique tastes in narratives.

    “Only because I was raised on earth, nothing more,” she defended herself. Spectra smirked and laughed, dissolving with the wind.

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Eight: Eschewal. Part Four.

    September 5th, 2017

    PART FOUR.

    Rain had taken her sedative upstairs and passed out in her bathroom, propped against the toilet when they went looking for her. Despite the fact Richard didn’t really think it would do much good, he dragged a chair from out of his room, and jammed it under the door-knob.

    Leonardo was busy downloading information he though had been useful from Rain’s database, maps, records, biographies, and some of the older more digestible medical textbooks he’d found. He sent Robespierre down into Rain’s private lab to take what batteries and cords he thought they would need. The Frenchmen originally protested this.

    “That’s still her property.”

    “It’s for a common need, and from what I’ve gathered, talking to her, Rain could replace anything we take three times over. I wouldn’t worry too much about if we’re going to leave her bereft or not,” Leonardo placated him, although Robespierre still did not look entirely convinced.

    Richard busied himself by stripping the bedding from the beds, and stuffing them in all bags he could lay his hands on. Most of them were flimsy looking, made with thin slippery material, and delicate looking stitching. He scowled, but resigned himself. If they happened to come upon anything better, Richard felt confident he’d be able to trade for it.

    Within a quarter of an hour, the three men were leaving Rain’s house. Before they’d left, Ava had grabbed Richard’s wrist and growled.

    “Stay.” He ordered, taking his hand back. To his surprise, the hound obeyed and sat down, watching him mournfully.

    “Good girl,” he said at last, giving the dog a scratch. Robespierre patted her on the head.

    “Smart dog,” he cooed. Richard rolled his eyes.

    “Let’s go, I don’t think that alien will be out much longer.”

    Leonardo nodded and slipped out ahead of them, bag with the electronics slung over his shoulder. Richard gestured to Robespierre.

    “Traitors first,” he said. Robespierre didn’t say anything, but Richard could see the disdain that shone in his eyes for a moment, before he turned and followed Leonardo.

    Richard was careful to relock the door, and jammed a large stone in front of it for good measure, although he didn’t imagine it would hold either the alien or Rain for very long.

    Leonardo was in the shed next to Rain’s house, studying one of the vehicles. He walked around it, muttering in Italian. Richard was more than prepared to walk the distance into wherever the ocean was to catch a ship, but Leonardo insisted that this would be much faster.

    “Do you know how to work it?” Richard asked, frowning.

    “Theoretically, it’s simple enough.” Leonardo smiled at him. “Simply start the engine and then enter the destination of where you want to go.”

    Robespierre, looking hesitant, asked, “Do you know how to start it?”

    Leonardo revealed a data chip in his hand. “No, but this does. Apparently it’s something that Rain was working on. Get in and we’ll see how it works.”

    Richard sighed and eyed the vehicle. It resembled a horseless carriage, however it was made entirely of metal. It sat on the ground, and looked entirely immobile. He consoled himself by remember the horrifying journey here, and thinking that at least this mad Italian was not asking him to be unmade and sent thousands of miles.

    All things considered a horseless carriage he could deal with.

    Richard, after fiddling with the lever on the door, eventually made his way into the front of the carriage. A smooth panel was in front of him.

    Leonardo slid in after him, with considerably more grace.

    “Robespierre, you will have to sit in the back, there is no more room here.”

    Richard smirked to himself.

    Leonardo fiddled with the panel and it lit up under his fingers. He found where to insert the tiny metal bit and slid it in carefully. The panel flickered, once, twice, and then it beeped.

    “User accepted. Destination?” A smooth male voice asked.

    Leonardo fished in his bag for the map.

    “Florence?”

    The panel flashed red.

    “Negative destination. Florence sank in 2310. Please select another destination.”

    “Sank?” Richard muttered. He and Leonardo glanced at each other.

    “Well I suppose it was built on a swamp,” Leonardo said sadly. “Any other suggestions?”

    “Paris,” Robespierre said from the back seat. The panel flashed green before Richard could demand London instead.

    “Destination accepted. Please fastened seat-belt and prepare for lift-off.”

    The three men exchanged looks. Leonardo mouthed the term, ‘lift off’, and frowned.

    Richard’s concerns were closer to home.

    “What in the saints names are sea-AHHHHH!”

    All three of them screamed as the vehicle let out a beep and went from motionless to quickly rising, crashing straight through the shed’s roof. Richard watched with wide eyes as the ground dropped away. He had the funny feeling his guts had stayed. He shut his eyes and gripped the leather bench tightly.

    “We’re flying! My god, we’re really flying!” Leonardo seemed to have recovered the fastest, and was laughing in delight. Richard grit his teeth as he could feel the carriage change direction. Robespierre seemed to share his issue, since he could hear him wretch.

    “Richard, Maximilien! Open your eyes, it’s incredible,” Leonardo said, shaking his arm like a child. Richard shook his head and wrenched his arm away.

    “Absolutely not.”

    “Are you mad?” Robespierre demanded, sounding shaky.

    Leonardo sighed, and Richard bristled. “For heaven’s sake. It’s perfectly safe in here, and you can see the whole of North America. We’re surrounded by clouds and all the sky is spread out under us. The sun is shining and we’re flying. Please, I’m sincerely asking that the two of you open your eyes and join me.”

    Richard pressed his lips together tightly. He didn’t want to see how high they were from the realm of men, from what he knew. But he also understood the logic behind what Leonardo was requesting. He couldn’t very well spend his entire journey to Paris with his eyes shut.

    He took a deep and calming breath before slowly opening his eyes.

    The whole vehicle was awash in bright sunlight, glittering off the glass panel in front of him. The leather was already warming under him and Richard cynically wondered how long it would be till it became unbearable. However very slowly he looked around, eyes going wide and round.

    They were surrounded by fluffy white clouds, the kind that always beckoned him out of the castle as a child, and reminded him of summers spent riding with Ned and George. The sky was a rich royal blue, and when he gathered his courage and looked out one of the glass windows the earth below them was a wash of greens-browns-greys. He could make out massive glass buildings, some of them rising into the clouds with them.

    He looked over at Leonardo, who had tears sparkling in his eyes.

    “We’re flying. I’d dreamt of it for so long, and now,” he touched the glass that separated them from the outside. Richard couldn’t help but feel moved by the other man’s sincere emotion.

    “It’s so far away,” Robespierre whispered from the back. He too had his hand pressed to the glass.

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Eight: Eschewal. Part Three.

    September 1st, 2017

    Part Three.

    It took a long time to convince Richard back into his chair, and even longer to get Robespierre unstuck from the wall but it was eventually accomplished.

    “How did you find me?” Rain asked Maltass. They had been plied with a tall glass of iced water.

    “Doctor Pless admitted what had happened almost immediately. Because this is sacred knowledge, I was the only one who could handle this discreetly.” They scowled at Rain. “Aliens are not supposed to know how to use our technology. If you do not return all of our data and technology the treaty with your Federation will be nullified.”

    Maltass curled they’re lips back. “The Komali have superior technology. If you do not surrender everything you stole, most assuredly we will make you surrender it by force.”

    “And the men?” Rain asked calmly. She placed her hands around her coffee cup to keep them steady.

    “Yes, you’ll need to surrender them as well.”

    “What will happen to them?” She noticed Leonardo, Richard and Maximilien straighten up, staring at her with wide eyes.

    They knew nothing about this world. They were powerless. Helpless. She’d probably killed them all over again by doing this.

    They’d never survive.

    “Of course we cannot let this indiscretion get back to our government. They will be taken and disposed of.”

    XXX

    “And the men?” Rain asked calmly.

    Richard noticed that her hands were shaking.

    “Yes, you’ll need to surrender them as well.”

    “What will happen to them?” Rain continued to speak as if Leonardo, Robespierre and Richard were not sitting there with them.

    “Of course we cannot let this indiscretion get back to our government. They will be taken,” Richard stiffened and Robespierre drew a sharp breath, “And disposed of.”

    Rain nodded slowly, her eyes staring unblinking at the Ambassador. “I…see.” With the tiniest of head movement’s she looked at Richard, and in that brief moment of eye contact, the ex-King understood what he had to do.

    The ambassador was looking around at them all. “Well? Do you want to-” their sentence was cut off as Richard swiftly stood up and the crushing force grabbed the alien’s head and brought it down to meet the kitchen table with a sickening crunch. The ambassador did not move when Richard let go of its head.

    Rain surveyed the whole scene without moving a muscle even as Robespierre and Leonardo jumped.

    Richard turned to Rain.

    “Would you like me to do the same to you or, do you have a sedative to take?”

    Rain considered it for a moment. “You know, I think I will take the sedative. I’ll be back in moment.”

    She got up and limped towards the back of the house. Richard nodded his head decisively. He started moving around the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets and pulling out the sparse amount of shelf stable food Rain kept on hand.

    “What are you doing?” Robespierre asked, still staring, horror struck at the unconscious alien on the table. “You might have killed him!”

    “I didn’t do it that hard,” Richard said gruffly. He was pulling out knives from the knife block and selected a paring knife, which he slipped into boot and the chopping knife, which he placed in the small pile of food he was gathering.

    “You’re running away.” Leonardo stated calmly.

    “I am. You heard the ambassador, their intention is to kill us. I won’t be here when they turn up with reinforcements.”

    Leonardo titled his head, watching as Richard struggled with the replicator. He hissed when it beeped a negative at him again.

    “Blasted machines.”

    Leonardo went over and calmly punched in the access code. “It should work now.”

    Richard looked at him suspiciously. “What?”

    “Take us with you,” Leonardo said.

    “What?” Richard said, incredulously.

    Robespierre also looked up, surprise all over his face.

    “You said it yourself, they intend to kill us. You are clearly the expert at surviving on the lam, I understand this technology the best of the three of us, and Ma- Robespierre is the only one who has studied the maps of this city. Out best chance of survival is to work together.”

    Richard looked Leonardo up and down.

    “You can come. He stays.” He tilted his head, indication the Frenchman. However before Robespierre could protest, Leonardo frowned and grabbed Richard’s wrist in a vice grip.

    “No. Both of us, or I will go nowhere.”

    Richard grunted, his fingertips going oddly numb as Leonardo steadily increased pressure. He grittted his teeth, staring down Leonardo, who did not even flinch.

    “Fine. But if he slows us down, I’m leaving both of you,” Richard finally conceded. Leonardo let go of his wrist and smiled charmingly.

    “You’ll hardly noticed us.”

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Eight: Eschewal. Part Two.

    August 29th, 2017

    PART TWO.

    Rain’s worst fears were confirmed when she opened the door and a member of the Komali was standing on the porch, shading their eyes and starting to sweat under Earth’s sun.

    Fuck!

    “Hello, may I help you?” Rain asked pleasantly, carefully holding the door so the alien could not see past her shoulder into the house behind her. One of the dogs was behind her, a cold wet nosed pressed to the skin at the back of her knee.

    “You are Doctor Rainbow Miller?” The Komali asked.

    “Yes. Do I know you?” Sweat ran the back of her neck.

    The alien frowned. “No. I am the presiding ambassador of the Komali for your Federation. I am Maltass.” They dipped their head, bird-like.

    Rain dipped back, and prayed that Leonardo’s or Richard’s curiosity wasn’t going to get the better of them.

    “It’s wonderful to meet you  ambassador Maltass. Is there something I can d-”

    The Komali’s face, usually so placid and pleasant, with the droopy eyelids and full lips, and soft pastel colored skin tones, only marked by the stripes of darker color, had hardened and their lips drew back into a grimace.

    “You can return what you stole!”

    XXX

    “Who do think that is?” Robespierre asked quietly, twisting around in his chair to watch Rain’s retreating back. They heard the door open and Rain asked in a loud, and falsely cheer voice, “Hello?”

    Richard was leaning over the table, trying to see. “I can’t tell, maybe someone from the government?”

    Leonardo shook his head. “Why wouldn’t they just contact Rain through her connection, if they need her?” He shook his head again, brushing his hair from his face. He couldn’t wait until it was long enough to tie back and away again. “I think it’s probably her old assistant, Kamala Mason.”

    “The one who left? Why would she come back?” Richard challenged him.

    Leonardo shrugged. “Perhaps she changed her mind?”

    “You can return what you stole!”

    All three of them jumped and Ava’s ears prinked up. Pallas growled from under the table.

    The door suddenly slammed and heavy footsteps started down the hall towards the kitchen. Richard leapt from his chair and backed away, towards the counter, where some knives sat in a block.

    Leonardo too, moved from the table when he realized there was no way that any normal human could be causing such as noise, and quickly proven correct when a figure, over seven feet tall, with pale purple skin, and no hair burst in.

    Robespierre shrieked, and quickly cut himself off, clapping both hands over his mouth, even as his whole frame bucked backward from…from whatever it was. Richard dropped the paring knife he grabbed.

    The thing frowned, and whipped around to confront Rain, who came limping quickly after it.

    “I knew it! Your government tried to protect you, but-”

    “These are my relatives, cousins on my mother’s side,” Rain cut in smoothly. The thing, monster, dragon, thing, sneered.

    “I’ve been on earth for over six months, and have no one that looks like them,” it waved a hand at Robespierre, Richard and Leonardo, all of whom were still too stunned to speak.

    Indeed, Richard looked like he might never speak again.

    “Besides, does it have a ID?”

    The thing grabbed Robespierre around the neck, and Leonardo caught sight of a fear far more primal than a simple distaste of touch would allow for. The man’s face was utterly white, the scare tissue disappearing and making him appear much younger. The thing brushed the hair at the nape of his neck away and bobbed it’s head.

    “Is expected. Nothing.” It release Robespierre, who stumbled away, back to the wall, looking ready to flee. His grey-green eyes had lost all of their usual sharp, able stare instead reverting back to that of a much younger man’s, terrified and speechless.

    Rain stood frozen, staring at between the thing and Robespierre, to Leonardo and Richard back up against the counter. She rubbed her forehead, advertising her thought process.

    “Leonardo da Vinci, Richard the Third, and Maximilien Robespierre, please meet ambassador Maltass, of the Komali. They are an alien,” she clarified at Leonardo’s lost look. Rain turned to the alien ambassador.

    “Won’t you please take a seat and we can talk about this?”

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Eight: Eschewal. Part One.

    August 24th, 2017

    PART ONE.

    For Rainbow Miller the next week passed disappointingly.

    Far from the Historical Figure think tank she’d anticipated, the three men seemed to be avoiding both her, and each other.

    Richard spent most of his time physically out of the house, and for some reason, Ava seemed to have become fascinated with him. The dog had started to follow him everywhere. Rain figured that at least with this, if Richard tried to do a runner, she would be able to track Ava to find him if nothing else.

    She had rarely seen Robespierre, who was staying to his room, claiming illness. It occurred to Rain that she hadn’t properly inoculated any of the men. It retrospect, this seemed like a problem, since now Robespierre was refusing to even leave his claimed sanctuary and if he had something like smallpox, she would be responsible for bring back one of the most infectious diseases of all time.

    The upside was that, upon doing some hasty research, it seemed Robespierre had regular bouts of illness, most of them brought on by exhaustion, and possibly psychosomatic. In the end Rain finally concluded that leaving Robespierre to his own devices was the safest rout she could take, and when he was out of his self-imposed exile, she would burn everything that could carry an infection and make all three men have their shots.

    Rain was most disappointed in Leonardo. He seemed to seek distance from her, deliberately avoiding her invitations to go down to her lab and spending all of his time absorbed in the tablet Rain had given him. When Rain teased him, “What are to so entranced in? Already have a crush Leonardo?” He simply smiled enigmatically and shook his head.

    Rain hated to admit failure, but so far she had to admit living with the dead was not nearly as exciting as she had hoped.

    It was a week that they had relocated back to Colorado that there was a knock on the door.

    Robespierre had finally rejoined them, and too his credit, Rain did think he looked as if he’d been ill lately. His pallor was grey and it almost appeared that someone had punched him in the eyes, so dark and blue were the circles under them.

    “After breakfast we’re doing inoculations for you all, and that’s final!” She declared.

    “Inno-que-what?” Richard asked.

    “Prevention against illness,” Leonardo mumbled tonelessly, staring into the tablet as usual.

    “How-” Richard started but was cut off by a sharp knock at the door.

    Rain froze.

    She was not expecting anyone, and other than Kamala no one knew that the men were here. Kam knew better than to come here unexpectedly, especially after her temper tantrum back at the lab.

    Most likely it was someone from the Federation, coming to bother her about some problem or wanting her for a mission or a lecture or other nonsense. She swallowed hard.

    Rain waved a finger at the three men, all of them staring, transfixed at her. “Stay. Right. Here. I’ll get rid of them.”

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Seven: Rest in Pain. Part Four.

    August 22nd, 2017

    The be-damned hound was still following him, right up until Richard closed the door of his room. To his surprise, she didn’t whine or bark. He wondered if he was going to end up tripping over her when he left his cramped room in the morning. He didn’t know if Rain had set the dog to trail after him or not, but couldn’t help to feel uneasy by the canine shadow.

    He wasn’t sure if that was he own prudence speaking up or if he was over reacting. His whole body felt battered and his mind tender, as if it had been smashed in the face of his new reality.

    Richard sighed and ran his hands through his hair, frowning.

    But Lord, how he missed Anne. There had been many times in his life when Richard had no one by his side. When he and George had been sent away for their safety after their father was killed, Richard would sometimes ache from the crushing isolation that bore down on him. After George tried defecting to Warwick and Edward was bending over backwards to please the Woodvilles and his new wife, Richard had felt very alone in the London court. He hadn’t even had Lovell there.

    Anne had often been able to sympathize with his feelings, having spent her own time away from her mother and sister, trapped with Henry and Margaret D’Anjou. Then again when George had trapped her, trying to steal her inheritance. Richard had known that with Anne by his side he would at least always have a steadfast companion, despite her sex.

    But then after Ned and Anne had died, Richard knew that he’d lost his best connections to others and his isolation had been complete. Not even Catsby or Francis could ease the loneliness at the end. His solace had been in the thought that one day he’d meet them again in Heaven with the Lord.

    Richard sat down on the bed very slowly.

    But something had gone wrong, and now he was stuck here, still breathing, made up by some mad witch, and with Leonardo, the Italian who he couldn’t parse yet, and Robespierre who he already did not like. He scrubbed a hand over his face, the stubble of his beard scratching his palm.

    He was beginning to tire, and very slowly laid down on the mattress, legs still hanging half off the bed. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost at once.

    Run faster, run faster, run faster. His heart was pounding and there was red blood splashed on his bristly white fur. He charged through the thick dark undergrowth, trees leering over and rose bush’s thorns adding to his scratches.

    Behind Richard, he can hear the thunderous roars, the crackling of fire, and the hurricane like whooshes from wings. He was running like the wind, panting harshly, but he’s not going to be able to run forever. Even as the hunting beast bares down on him, Richard spun and instead charged fearlessly at his enemy.

    Much larger than he, and filling the entire sky it seemed, was a red dragon, wings rending the stormy sky behind it. On it’s back was Henry Tudor, bearing a sword. Richard knew he could gore him, if only he can get close enough. He’s not afraid of a child, of a puffed-up traitor. He’s going to kill him and bring an end to all this suffering.  

    But it was never going to be enough, because even as he raced to his foe, the dragon reached down and snatched him off the ground, teeth tearing into his side. There was a disorienting moment before the dragon closed his mouth that Richard could see out, into the sky, but then the beast swallowed and Richard was dropped into darkness.

    He landed, squealing in shock, anger, and pain, in the sick of the stomach. Bile engulfed him and Richard paddled furiously to stay afloat in the foul liquid.

    Around him he could see the bones and tusks of his family. His father’s head, crowned in a ring of white roses and thorns, his brothers, Edmund, Edward, and George, and sister, Margret. His son, like him but in miniature, flesh melting off his bones and flesh seared red.

    Anne, throat torn out and eyes closed, was bobbing in the red sludge. Richard paddled harder, but the thick liquid was wearing him down and he knew that soon he would not be able to hold himself up any longer. He moved over to where Anne was, and slowly allowed himself to stop swimming.

    Richard woke with a start, painfully banging his foot off the metal frame of the bed. Curing, Richard rolled over and grabbed the injury. Thankfully the pain chased the worst of the fog of the night terror away. By the time the ankle stopped throbbing Richard had nearly gotten his heart beat under control.

    He laid back down and clapped a hand over his eyes, frowning grimly.

    In that moment, he was eight years old again, homesick and mourning his family all over again.   

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Seven: Rest in Pain. Part Three.

    August 17th, 2017

    During the Revolution Maximilien’s habit had been to stay up until at least midnight, writing his drafts, revising, answering correspondence, and while working on the Committee, arguing bitterly with Collot d’Herbois and Barras.

    However he found himself more easily tired now. It was as if death had sapped all of his energy, he thought, somewhat wryly.

    Max persisted, eyes tracing over the familiar words of Rousseau. He knew that he it did him no good to dwell, but it didn’t stop him from wanting the comforting presence of what he knew.

    Rainbow Miller kept hinting at his reputation after his death, but Max very carefully kept from that as well. For him, it had been less than a week since he made his speech to thunderous applause at the Jacobin club, tried to make his declamation to the Assembly, been arrested, escaped jail, seen his comrades shot, been injured, and finally sentenced to death.

    It seemed to him that ripping open the wound, as if to blood let, would do nothing to aid his adjustment to his current situation.

    So he re-read The Social Contract, Émile, and made it into Confessions, before inevitably, his eyes started to close.

    He was in the Pantheon. Torchlight from a wildly swinging latern made shadows sway along the tombs. Maxime looked around and realized he was standing among familiar bodies. Camille and Lucile rested closest to him, eyes closed peacefully. At first Max convinced himself they were sleeping, but then he looked closer and realized that Camille’s head was actually simply placed near his neck, not on it.

    There was no blood.

    Max walked between the bodies of Augustin, Charlotte, Henriette. The Duplays. Horace. Saint-Just. Danton.

    “These are yours.” Max suddenly realized that Marat had been standing next to him the entire time. He still had Corday’s knife sticking out of his chest. He gestured to Louis Capet and Marie Antoinette.

    Max shook his head. He could not speak with the scent of death rising up around him.

    Marat took his arm and started leading him past more bodies. Brissot, Couthon, Mirabeau, Bailey.

    “These are all the ones that you caused to be killed,” Marat, in his typical fashion gesticulated wildly, arm sweeping around, the knife in his chest wobbling with every movement. His voice started to be pitched higher and higher. “Jacobins, Girondists, Indulgents.”

    Max stumbled to a stop, and clapped a hand to his mouth. He could feel bile, oily and hot, rising in his throat. Grey mist rose in front of his eyes. Was it the torchlight or had Augustin’s head turned to him? Was Camille blinking slowly or was it his mind?

    “The entire Revolution, lumped in with the ilk of Cromwell.” Marat finished, standing in front of Max. His yellow eyes seemed to burn in the strange atmosphere of the Pantheon.

    He opened his mouth to speak and instead felt the bile rise, and rise until he was gagging.

    But it was not bile at all. A huge, grey, slimy worm emerged from his mouth, spilling out down past his neck and chest, squirming lazily. Max’s mouth hung open dumbly as the weight of the worm forced his tongue to the side. He could taste the rot and dirt from the invertebrate in his mouth.

    Marat took hold of the warm and yanked on it, and Maximilien nearly fell into him. The suddenly hands from all around were grabbing at him, at the issue of his mouth.

    “Terror shall be the order of the day.”

    “You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.”

    Words that he’d never said, never declared spilled from the worm while the dead tried to rip it from his body. Pale, stiff hands pawed at his face and shoulders.

    With a final yank, delivered by Phillipe Lebas, still bleeding from temple, the worm was ripped from his mouth. Maximilien looked at the slimy appanage.

    But it was not the disgusting insect from inside, it was a sluggishly bleeding tongue instead.

    Max woke with a start, hands flying up to his face and knocking his new glasses askew. His skin was clammy and shivers ran over belly and back. He shuddered as his fingers brushed over the raised skin of the guillotine scar.

    He put the book on the side of bed, and curled himself under the covers, still shaking with the aftershocks of the dream.

    It took a long time for him to fall back asleep.    

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Seven: Rest in Pain. Part Two.

    August 15th, 2017

    Leonardo rubbed distractedly at his eyes, blinking in the harsh light. He’d gone to his borrowed room after dinner, and the collective decision to try and leave Rain had been made.

    His mind felt crowed by too much, the past few days catching up with him.

    One moment Leonardo had been dying in France and the next he was alive in North America. It felt to him like he was only half-awake, a disquieting feeling, as Leonardo had always prided himself on his ability to see things as they really were. However now he was reliant on Rain’s interpretation, locked inside of her home and blocked at odd junctures from outside information.

    Leonardo found the animated laughing mask that blocked him from certain ‘websites’ infuriating.

    He sighed and went back to staring at the tablet screen: he’d been reading his companions histories.

    Richard, it turned out had a whole scandal behind his rule. Having lived in Milan for a good portion of his adult life, Leonardo found it hard to be scandalized by the theory that Richard may have had his nephews killed to clear his way to the throne. Abhorrent, but nothing that Leonardo had not heard from Nicco or seen Caesar Borgia before. He was mildly surprised to find that Richard had died younger than he or Robespierre, however. There was something so…ancient in the ex-king’s bearing, that it made Leonardo assume he’d been an old man when he’d died. He presumed that it had something to do with the man’s spine. The official biography said it was ‘scoliosis, a twisting of the spine that occurred in adolescent. It would account for the pained grimace the man seemed to carry constantly.

    Meanwhile, he also found himself stunned and entranced by the times Maximilien Robespierre came from.

    Leonardo could scarcely wrap his head around the philosophe of the period, phrases from ‘The Rights of Man’ swimming before his eyes, let alone the frantic action that followed. An entire populace rising against their sovereign. Leonardo thought he’d seen the height of madness during the French Occupation of Lombardy, he could only imagine the horrors of what all of France would be like in a riot.

    He found himself drawn to the guillotine, drawing it over a dozen times in his notes, from different angles and sizes. Once he’d included a headless corpse, simply to amuse and frighten himself. It was such a perfect method of death, from the height of blade to the materials used. Leonardo already wanted to see if there was a way to improve it.

    Robespierre, shockingly, seemed to be at the very epicenter of much of the Revolution. His name was repeated from 1789 to 1794, and even cited by the men who followed after him. For such a withdrawn and diminutive figure, Robespierre must have been an amazing orator when he put his mind to it, Leonardo concluded.

    He rubbed his eyes again and smother his yawn. He spun the pen in his hand, and followed the spinning movement. Slowly, his eyes shut.

    Falling asleep is something your brain does automatically. You close your eyes for one moment and your brain shuts down higher functions.

    Leonardo was still sketching, firelight playing over his paper while his red chalk chased the flickering shadows. It seemed like hours later when a knock on the wooden door disturbed him. Without getting up he was at the door and opening it.

    It was the Officers of the Night, but Leonardo could not identify their faces. They took him, and suddenly Leonardo was standing in front of the moral guardians of Florence. Except they wore tri colored slashes and had feathers in their hats. This didn’t strike Leonardo as odd.

    “Leonardo ser Piedro da Vinci you stand accused of indecency and sodomy. Evidence has been brought before the court,” Salai, dressed as Bacchus, stepped forward and smiled at Leonardo, “and you have been sentenced to death.”

    Leonardo blinked again and he was walking up to the scaffold. Except it wasn’t. The shape of the guillotine was back by the stars in the inky sky, were kites flew, calling out to one another before landing and pecking at the eyes of dead and skeletal bodies. Leonardo looked over at the executioner and found a crooked-backed Lorenzo de Medici holding the rope. He grimaced as he was tied down to the plank.

    As it ever was, his own patrons were the most destructive aspect of his life.

    He had the perfect angle to survey the crowd before the blade came down. He felt no fear, only a curious sensation of inevitability. He heard the blade fall, but felt no pain. His head fell and met the wood of the scaffold.

    Leonardo sighed as he woke up. He groaned when he realized he’d drooled all over his sketches and the desk. The clock only read a half hour later. The dream had left nothing but a vague feeling of illness, a sudden queasiness that left an ache in his temples and a greasy feeling at the back of his throat.

    He rubbed his eyes again, and surrendered to the inevitable: clearly it was time for bed.

    Bring back another dead person already!

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  • A Fiction Agreed Upon. Episode Six: Threshold. Part Three.

    August 3rd, 2017

    PART THREE.

    In the dark of the night Clio trailed around Rainbow’s home, her one eye roving over some the scientists curiosities. This was undoubtedly the most boring part of her job as a Muse. The waiting. When she’d had her sisters and son around it hadn’t been as bad, but now on her own Clio was relegated to re-reading the ancient earth texts Rain had carefully stored on her bookshelves. She was starting to wish for any company, even Spectra’s, when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the large hound pad past, making her way to the back door.

    “Smart dog,” she muttered to herself as the hound stood on her hind legs to press the door knob down then nose it open. Rather than letting the door swing shut behind it, the dog carefully picked up a stone it it’s mouth and positioned it in the door, preventing it from closing.

    “Curious and curiouser,” Clio muttered, setting her book aside and getting up to follow the dog out. She phased through the door easily enough and walked over the slightly dry grass to where, much to her surprise, all of the dogs were assembled. She sat down, knees folder under her and resting back on her heels.

    While the dogs weren’t talking, she had the definite feeling they were certainly communicating. One of the them would bark or growl softly, the others would respond, yipping, shaking or growling back.

    “I’ll be struck, Spectra might be right,” the older Muse muttered, and hoped that the Hyena trickster might never find out she admitted it aloud.

    The dogs stayed on the back lawn for nearly an hour before the big hound, yawned and stood up. She was easily the tallest dog there, and with a quick shake she turned and trotted back up to the house. One by one the other dogs followed her in. Clio stood and stretched, strolling alongside the smallest one, a fluffy tan dog with bright black eyes who stumbled once or twice in her exhaustion. They filed into the living room where most of them curled up on the rug, closing their eyes and falling asleep.

    However the big hound, the curly haired white poodle and the long short dog went off to in the direction of the bedrooms. Clio followed along, figuring now was a good a time as any to check on her charges.

    Three of them were asleep. Rain, with her long dark hair spread over her face and pillows, and her faithful cane next to her bed. Richard was on his back, frowning thunderously even in his sleep. Wryly, Clio wondered if he was dreaming of ghosts. Finally Robespierre was tossing and turning, sleeping clothes stuck to his body with sweat. When the poodle saw this, she whined, and leapt up on the, resting her head next to the distressed sleeper. It seemed to calm him somewhat, and Clio left slightly amused at the dogs reaction.

    Leonardo was still not asleep. Examining his intense pose, Clio wasn’t even sure if he was aware that it was nighttime. The Italian was busy writing notes in his sketchbook, pages already scattered around him.

    “A true follower of Hephaestus, aren’t you?” She asked the mortal teasingly. Leonardo smiled and shook his head at something he read, going back and scratching out part of his notes. “Hmph. You seem to learn better than your fellows at least.” She sat herself at the end of his unused bed, ignoring how she sank into it several inches, rather than the bed giving way under her weight. The downside of being incorporeal.

    Leonardo sighed gustily, running a hand through his dark hair and then stroking it over his beard. He seemed surprised when he ran out of hair to pull, looking down. He chuckled ruefully.

    “Keep forgetting you aren’t in your sixties anymore?” Clio asked rhetorically. Leonardo rubbed his eyes and sat back, yawning massively into his hand. Clio laughed. “You look just like your name sake when you do that!”

    She moved out of the way when Leonardo stood up and stumbled into the bed, landing facedown and slumping into the mattress. It was a far cry from his usually graceful bearing.

    His snores started almost immediately and Clio sighed.

    It was times like this where she’d give up limbs, love, vitality to have the gift of dream walking like Spectra did. She was intensely curious as to what her mortal charges might have been dreaming.

    Of their past lives? The strange future they were now living in? Past loves, or of their enemies closing in around them? Did they dream at all?

    Clio sighed again and walked soundlessly over to where Leonardo had been sitting. She Leafed through the sketches. He was already drawing to the small portion of the world he’d been exposed to. Rain made her appearance as Athena, an old Milianese captain’s helmet on her head, while her braid curled around her face like a serpent. He made sketches of the inventions she shown him, and geographical maps of North Dakota. Richard popped up as well, Leonardo already speculating on his uneven shoulders, and a hurried drawing, no larger than Clio’s palm, was of a curved spine, nearly exactly like the scoliosis that Richard suffered from.

    Leonardo seemed to have developed an interest in the bullet scar in Robespierre’s face as well, since he had one full sized drawing, and several in minute, drawn to detail it. In a gory example, Leonardo had apparently speculated on how Robespierre had been shot, and showed an eruption of blood pouring from his mouth.

    Finished with her snooping, Clio rearranged the papers back on the desk. She looked over at the sleeping Italian again. He seemed peaceful in his sleep, face lax, and Clio grimaced, thinking of the days ahead of the three men and Rain.

    “Yeah, well, enjoy in while you can,” she told him, before quietly leaving his room.

    XXX

    Leonardo was not entirely sure what time it was when he woke up, face pressed into the sheets. He hadn’t slept until late and he was surprised to find his internal clock wasn’t entirely calibrated to the new surroundings yet. However when he sat up and stretched, still amazed to find that after years of waking with creaking and aching bones he was now able to move as smoothly as if his joints had been recently oiled, he looked out the window and found that the sun was already overhead and warming the earth.

    Leonardo got up and stripped to change clothing. His nose wrinkled when he realized he smelled of sweat, and the odd sharp tang he was coming to associate with the future. The old clothing, Leonardo neatly piled at the end of the bed and made a mental note to ask Rain about later.

    Standing bare in front of the replicator, Leonardo took his time and slowly flipped through the variety of clothing that it offered. This machine, much like the one back at Rain’s lab, did not seem immune to being charmed, and therefore Leonardo soon found himself well threaded in a rose colored shirt, and the same kind of lose hosiery that Rain had foisted on him the day before.

    ‘Denim’, she called it.

    How they got the weave that close, Leonardo was looking forward to finding out.

    Down the stairs and through the living room, Leonardo was only able to find Rain and Robespierre.

    “Richard left hours ago. But Ava was following him, so I’m not very concerned,” Rain told him. Then she wrinkled her nose at him. “You know I think you could use a shower Leonardo.” She glanced over at Robespierre as well. “Probably you and Richard as too.”

    Rain heaved herself to her feet, and gestured for them to follow her.

    “I don’t know why she keeps expecting us to know where things are in her house,” Robespierre muttered tartly.

    Leonardo shrugged. “She probably keeps forgetting we aren’t from her time.” Robespierre coughed under his breath.

    “She likes to remind us well enough.”

    Rain opened the door to a room that was tiled from floor to ceiling in white and blue granite tiles. When Leonardo stepped onto the floor, it wasn’t cold, but instead a pleasant warmth on the bottom of his feet.

    Rain was standing next to an alcove and they watched her twist one of the silver knobs. Steaming water poured from a spout over her head. She pointed at the knobs. “Red is hot, the blue is cold, and the one in the middle changes where the water is directed. The three of you can use this bathroom.” She limped past them, ignoring their amazed expressions. “Like hell I’ll let you use my bathroom,” she muttered.

    Bring back another dead person already!

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