>"Because I hadn't made it up yet. [shudder] Thanks for backing me up, that
>wasn't half as convincing as I'd planned... I must be losing my touch."

[...several days later...]

Like most of UCirc, Loren's office had been rebuilt. The walls and floors
were paneled with shiny black plastic, and with the door closed, the only
light, aside from a squirrel-scaled desklamp, came from the holographic
simulation to one side. 

The globe hovered a few inches off the floor. Slowly, from a dozen points 
scattered across the land, a red cloud spread. As the last patches of blue
and green vanished, black splotches began to appear. First one, now another,
until the entire sphere was dark. Then the simulation reset and played again,
with slightly different parameters.

Loren himself sat behind the desk, squatting on a cushioned stool with his
paws resting on the surface, tail jutting up behind. His silver fur glistened 
erily as he read the courier's report. Most was routine, and he quickly
located the incident that had inspired the head of security to bring it to
his attention.

"I see. And he expected you to believe this."

"I think he was just trying to... [chitter] I mean, he wanted me to believe
it enough not to force him to go back... it's not true, is it?"

"It could be," Loren grimaced, "I doubt we are free from traitors, despite
recent events. It is *far* more likely he hopes to escape from our notice as
a triviality. [flick] Which he is."

"Even if he really has followers? [flick] Are you cr--" the courier's mouth
snapped shut, but too late. 

Loren motioned to the guards. "This interview is over."

"What are we going to do about him?" the courier chittered as the pair of
squirrels in heavy battle armor dragged her from the room. Loren didn't
answer.

There were more important things to deal with than a pitiful warren in far
off lands. He looked over at the simulation as it traced yet another scenario
to the end. The same end, every time.