He moved deftly through the bushes, and his second basket was nearly full of berries when he heard footsteps on the twig covered ground. He straightened up to watch a young woman approach. At a distance, the morning fog hid her face, but he easily recognized the girl’s gait and posture. "Good morning," he greeted her. "Isn’t it a little early for you, Constance?"

"How would you know what time I get out of bed in the morning," the young woman said slyly. She stopped a few feet from him and cocked her head to one side.

"You’re right – I wouldn’t know," Greg said with a faint smile. "Still, I’m a bit surprised to see you out this early, especially by yourself. I know you’re smart and that you appreciate the danger of walking here alone, even in your father’s backyard. I don’t approve that you risked it. And even if you and Kirk had come here together, that Glock you have leaves you a bit light on protection. Why aren’t you carrying a shotgun?"

"I couldn’t have gotten to a shotgun without waking someone up," Constance said with a note of impatience.

"That means you didn’t want anyone to know you were coming here," Greg concluded. "So tell me – what can I do for you?"

"You know what I want, Greg. Everybody knows what I want! I want out of Lapidum, and now I think I may finally have a chance."

"Involving me is going to help you leave Lapidum?" Greg asked suspiciously. "What makes you think I’d want to get on your father’s bad side by helping you run away?"

"I don’t want you to just help me get out of here – I want you to take me across the river yourself. I’m hoping you’ll even take me all the way to Washington."

"Stop hinting at it and say what’s on your mind," Greg said testily, feeling today’s plans for charming Robin slipping away.

"Greg, what I have to tell is real important. But before I tell you, I want you to give me your word that if you agree it’s important, you’ll help me and Eddie get out of Lapidum. I want your promise."

"You do realize, girl, you’ve already told me about all I need to know. Because the minute after your father found out I had spirited you away from him, my life here in his town would be over. In other words, your information boils down to letting me know that it’s time for me to move on."

"Ooh, Greg, you had better not do this to me!" She shook a finger at him. "I want your promise. I came all the way out here by myself to save your neck!"

"Listen," Greg said calmly, "I would like to find out what you have to tell me. But I’m not going to make you any promises. You know with whom you’re dealing here. If you give me some valuable information, I’ll be in your debt, and you know I’m good for it. But you also know I’m only going to do what I think is right. So make up your mind to tell me one way or the other." Greg imagined he could see steam coming out of Constance’s ears. But she began talking.

"Men came to town late yesterday – soldiers from Washington, and they’re looking for you. They brought gold, Greg – a box full of it! That’s why I had a chance to come out here. Dad’s trying to haggle as much of it from them as he can because the chest is bigger than a breadbox."

"You’re sure they’re American soldiers? How many of them are there?" Greg asked.

"There was one man who did all of the talking, and he wore normal clothes. He had seven or eight men with him. They didn’t have the army armbands, but they all wore the same camouflage uniforms." Constance looked suddenly worried. "You know, my daddy might not tell them you’re here." Greg was staring past her, deep in thought. At her last comment, he raised an eyebrow.

"Of course, he’d turn down a chest of gold," Greg remarked lightly. "And after finding this out, you still believed now was the time to get me to sneak you out of here – with professional killers on my heels?" Her face flushed.

"I wouldn’t want them to get you in any case, Greg – even if you weren’t one of the few people around here who could get me to Washington."

"I’m grateful for the warning, Constance. You may have saved Robin’s and my life, and I thank you. One day I’ll make it up to you, but you know it’s too dangerous to take you anywhere." The girl rolled her eyes.

"I guess so," she admitted.

"Go knock on Ann and Eric’s door. Tell them what you told me about Washington men looking for me. Eric will need to be able to warn the co-op not to get involved." He reached over and gave the girl’s hand a squeeze. "Go on, now."

Constance nodded. Resignedly, she turned around and started along the path to take her to the houses in the center of the fenced enclosure. Greg watched her go, the day’s excitement of five minutes earlier now replaced with dread.

"That settles it – the dreams can’t be a coincidence," he thought. "A pack of wolves picks up my trail in the same week that I have dreams about Ginny for the first time in years." Even if the revelation would not be a help to smooth things with Robin, he was relieved to have evidence that he had not suddenly begun pining again for the lovely Ms. Dent. To this point, his whole attention had been focused on trying to rescue his relationship with his current partner. When the fantasies involving his former interest had suddenly intruded into his dreams, his natural reaction was to close his thoughts to his mate of eight years. Naturally, this sudden change in intimacy made Robin suspicious and angry.

Now he would need to wake her and tell her they must leave the home in which they’d invested seven years. Even with the danger following him, he could not risk leaving her behind. While Robin’s mental abilities were only barely in the Monarch range, they would definitely attract the attention of these strangers when viewed in connection with him.

He set his baskets down on a wooden bench he had made the spring after their arrival and started for the house. He checked his anger with an effort. He liked living in Lapidum. Life had been peaceful and relatively comfortable here. A fortunate combination of circumstances had protected them from the economic chaos that had followed the Circle’s rise to political power. Lapidum flanked the Susquehanna river, giving them a dependable source of boating trade along with the fishing and fresh water. Also, their local ruling strongman was unusually savvy in how he ran his domain. Constance’s father generally kept the shakedowns of his people to under ten percent of what they produced. He had made welcome the talented people who flowed out of the population centers in the early days and left them to themselves so that they wanted to stay in his territory. At the same time, he actively encouraged malingerers and troublemakers to move on. Finally, he rarely used force to solve a problem when it occurred. Owner of a bankruptcy salvage business before the post-millennial bust, he was a wheeler and dealer who got much more satisfaction out of striking deals with people than by sticking a gun barrel in their ribs.

The successes of Lapidum, however, were an exception. For 90 percent of the country and the world, people had a much harder time making it. Virginia’s Circle of Monarchs were of generally good bent as people went. But as events clearly demonstrated, their collective wisdom was not even a fraction of their irresistible powers of telepathy. The sales pitch was good – to end mankind’s wars, disease, and poverty. But they could not have failed more spectacularly if their true goal had been to multiply the ills of the world.

At first glance, the prospect of nearly omnipotent altruists taking hold of the levers of power might strike many people as the beginning of a new age of justice and prosperity. But more thought could have easily predicted what eventually occurred. By forcibly inserting themselves into the human machinery of law, politics, finance, industry and dozens of other vast and intricate social systems, the result was to paralyze the institutions or to send them spinning out of control. The modern world was simply too large and complicated for a handful of geniuses to run – let alone people of average intelligence and common sense who happened to have extraordinary power. On top of the inevitable problems of totalitarian rule, the Monarchs’ powers exacerbated situations. In past failed experiments like the Soviet Union, black markets and other undergrounds could thrive. Those outlets were not possible against the Monarchs. No non-Immune mind could resist their will. No secret could escape their detection. Consequently, systemic breakdowns and shortages were the worst of modern times.

In two decades time, Greg estimated that his former friends had set back living standards by three generations. Economic systems like international finance had been rolled back centuries. After a lot of deprivation, starvation and riot control, the United States and much of the world had regressed to a near feudal state. Of course, the information couldn’t be known anymore, but Greg would be surprised if less than two billion people had perished since 2001. But a part of his heart still loved Ginny and her gang anyway.

Greg found Robin awake. She was turning out the bed. He walked in and tried to hold her shoulders, but she twisted out of his grasp and kept at what she was doing. "Sweetheart," Greg said, "we have an emergency on our hands." The woman stopped and turned on him.

"Oh? We’re ‘we’ again? Your not blocking yourself off from me for the moment, so I should stop what I’m doing and pay attention to you?"

"We’ll be a "we" until you’re someplace safe," Greg answered her. "I want you always, but if you want to go later, I won’t stop you." She dropped the edge of the blanket she held.

"What is it, Greg? What are you talking about?"

"Some Washington people have come here for me. I don’t know who or why, but they’re heavily armed so I don’t intend to wait around to find out. I need you to sit down at the table now and concentrate on sensing if anyone is coming here while I get our things together. We may not have much time." Robin looked stunned. She stared about her at the furniture of the bedroom.

"Leave?" she whispered. Greg reached to hold her again. This time she didn’t resist him.

"If these strangers are trouble, it’s best that we get far away from our friends so that none of them get hurt. I wish I could leave you behind," he said, "but I have no idea what these people want. I’m not sure they wouldn’t come after you to find out what you know about me. And if they discover you’re a Monarch, there’s no telling what their reaction will be. I think it’s safer for you to come with me."

"You’re right – we can’t let any of our friends get hurt because of your troubles," she said, pushing away from him. "Let me go and keep a look out like you said." She pointed to an end table by the bed. "I don’t go anywhere without my mother’s wedding album." Greg nodded and let her go. He had left his mental defenses open, but she never tried to join their minds. He watched her leave the bedroom with a twinge of regret. Involvement with him was complicating her life. But, otherwise, what was he supposed to do – become a celibate hermit? He shrugged. Life was tough, and he had to get ready for what was coming.

Greg Campbell ran, splashing through the murky shallows of the increasingly familiar swamp. Ahead, he saw the castle towers through the hanging leaves of the willow trees silhouetted against the eerie incandescent purples of the twilight horizon. If the impossible scenery had not first alerted him that he was in a Monarch dream scape, his youthful body certainly did. Once again, he was as powerful and fit as he was in the year y2k, his frame carrying 25 pounds more muscle on tireless legs.

The dreams were consistent: the swamp, the castle, the creepy fog – he found everything waiting for him as he’d experienced it each night, including the familiar sound of Ginny’s voice inside his head.

"Greg, where are you? Please, I need you!" the voice implored him.

"I’m coming," he thought, in case she could hear him. But she never sounded as if she heard. Rather, her pleas continued like radio calls for help. Thankfully, with each reappearance in the dream, he started closer to the castle that seemed to be his goal. Unfortunately, the obstacles in his path grew more onerous too. Instead of being in fixed locations, the obstacles seemed time connected, as if the malignant force opposing him needed to gather itself for its confrontations with him. He was wary as trouble was due at any moment. As if on cue, ahead of him the swamp surface bulged as if a gas bubble was collecting beneath it.

Fighting for balance, Greg slid to a halt as a column of mud and swamp grasses erupted in front of him. A booming baritone drowned out Virginia’s voice. "You keep coming back for more," the new voice greeted him, distorted as if he were hearing it underwater. The mound moved toward him, mud and slime melting away to slowly give it humanoid shape. "That is good," the voice continued, "because I like to hurt you!" The wave of moving swamp smashed into him, a massive arm slapping into him. Greg attempted to block with his forearms, but the blow struck him like bag of wet sand, knocking him off of his feet and sending him sliding back through the mud. Greg got to his feet more by reflex than conscious thought. He was still blinking stars out of his vision when he ducked and rolled beneath another haymaker of the behemoth.

Instinctively, his mind grasped to join with Virginia’s. Her voice was here – if only he could tap her energy. "These little visits have been nice," the creature gloated above him, "but I’ve run out of time to play with you. Say goodbye." However, the boasting was lost on Greg save for the tiny part of him that was aware enough to be grateful for his enemy’s waste of time. Most of his conscious thinking process was turned off as his physical and mental weapons operated on autopilot. In the seconds of the creature’s triumph, Greg’s attention was focused on counterattack. The swamp monster raised both fists to deliver a crushing blow to the kneeling man, but before its cudgel-like arms came down, Greg’s hands came up out of the water, a gleaming sword of light in his grasp. He cut up, strongly, along a diagonal that sliced through the groin of the monster to sever its left leg from its body. With a howl of shock and pain, the monster seemed to hang in the air, shudder, and then collapse in a shower of grass and muck.

"I did it!" Greg said aloud. "I was able to form a weapon." He held the blade before him, admiring its glowing blade. Then with a deep exhale, he released it. Immediately, the weapon shrank and vanished into a point, fading like the picture on an old RCA television set. Standing up, Greg tried to rub his face clear of slime and muck with the sleeves of his shirt.

"Greg," Virginia’s voice returned.

"Finally, you can hear me," he thought. "It’s a good thing we were able to make a connection and form that sword, because I was finished, otherwise. What’s going on, Ginny? What kind of trouble are we in?"

"Monarch traitors tried to assassinate me," the voice replied. "I was poisoned and then assaulted mentally to make sure I was dead."

"Par for the course in your world, I’m guessing," Greg answered.

"They did almost have me, big man. They were squeezing the life out of me. But as I was fading, I felt our old connection still there after all these years. It was like an escape tunnel for me. I was able to get away and hide in your dreams until I could pull myself together. I can sense that my body made it through the murder attempt too. My Monarchs probably worked together with the doctors to save me. But the traitors have been blocking me from reclaiming my body."

"There’s an assassination team after me in the real world right now," Greg thought in reply. "After 20 years, it can’t be a coincidence. Maybe he tracked you back to me in some way."

"On this level, they may have been able to find our merged consciousness. But as to how he found you – I’m sorry, partner, but I’ve kept tabs on you," Virginia confessed. "A simple check of U.N. files would turn you up. In any case, we’re not going to waste time and give them more free shots at us. The momentum has swung in our direction, Greg. You and me together – we’ll come through like we always did in the old days." In his mind, Greg imagined he could see her smile."

"You know, You’re putting a lot of pressure on the relationship I have now, Ginny. We’re talking eight years here." He then paused, frowning suddenly. "Something doesn’t feel right," he said.

"You’ve got to get back!" Virginia’s voice answered quickly.

Greg caught his breath with a start. He felt tiny beads of sweat cooling on his forehead as he crouched in the tall weeds beside a trail in what was formerly Susquehanna State Park. Directly in his line of sight, less than 30 feet away, was one of the soldiers tracking him. The other still didn’t see him. The man approached cautiously, carrying his AR-15 at the ready. Gaining his bearings, Greg became aware of the wire he held in one hand. Inwardly, he grimaced. "I’m doing Monarch ‘veg-outs’ in the middle of the day now," he thought with exasperation.

Unawares, the gunman stepped into the trap, and Greg yanked the wire.

Later, Greg returned back to the erosion scarred ditch where Robin lay waiting for him. She looked small and frightened when he saw her, her large brown eyes wide with worry. During the slow crawl back, he had worked to rein in the tumultuous emotions and adrenaline of the violent face-to-face encounters. Such experiences were alien to his Harlem rose. Upon seeing him, she made a desperate grab for him, half pulling him on top of her into the ditch. Her thoughts came cascading at him, as nervous and frantic as if she were speaking.

"Are you hurt? You’ve got blood on you! And I lost contact with you for what seemed like forever. I thought you were dead. What happened?"

"I was pulled into a mind world," Greg thought in reply.

"But I didn’t sense a Monarch with those soldiers. Who pulled you in?"

"Virginia Dent," Greg answered in as flat and matter-of-fact a tone as he could. Robin blinked as if she had been slapped. Not waiting for her reaction, Greg pulled her close, smothering her in a hug. "It’s nothing to worry about," he went on. "She’s caught up in some kind of political intrigue, and I sort of got pulled in."

"Nothing to worry about? We’re miles from our home and hiding in a ditch."

"What I meant is that there is nothing you need to worry about the two of us," Greg clumsily explained.

"Greg, you don’t understand what this is doing to me. When your mind disappeared, I thought those men had killed you," Robin repeated with a shudder.

"I’m sorry, sweetheart. Truth to be told, I think it’s better that you weren’t in my brain when things went down this afternoon. There was an upside to that bit of business, though. Now that gang is down three men with nothing to show for it. After losses like that, they might not dog our trail so hard, or they may even quit hunting us altogether. We still need to assume the worse and be careful. But I think we’ve at least bought ourselves a little time."

"God, I hope so," Robin whispered aloud. Her face was buried against his neck, and he felt her warm quick breaths, the cool tears in her eyes. "I’m just glad you’re here with me now – I need you so much," she said, brushing soft kisses onto his neck. She took a deep breath. "I," she began in a halting voice, "I need you right now, Greg. I’m not going to think about whether you’re going to go back to her tomorrow or next week. Only please open yourself to me today. Don’t shut me out. Everything is so scary right now. I’ve lost my house . . . I feel like I’m losing everything."

"You haven’t lost me, Robin. It’s you I love," he insisted. "Come inside and find out." Exasperated that he was failing to convince her, Greg switched tactics.

From the very first years of his martial arts training, Greg studied and practiced both meditation and visualization. Now he slipped into a meditative state, drawing upon his skills where he knew his words were failing him. When Robin reached to touch his mind, she found calmness, deep and cool like the bay in high summer. She waded into it, letting herself float when it grew deep enough. Slowly, her nervousness melted away as she relaxed in the rhythmic bounce of the waves.

She was lost in thought when two strong hands buoyed her above the water. She righted herself as she turned around. Suddenly, the waters were shallow, and she stood with Greg in the white sand that sloped gently upward onto an island beach. No sun shone in the clear blue sky, but the day was as bright and beautiful as any she had ever experienced. Robin threw both arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she said with a bittersweet smile.

"Still not convinced, are you?" Greg asked. "If our love wasn’t real, could we have conjured up this place together?"

"You might love me, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love her more," Robin countered. "What are you hiding there?" she asked, pointing beyond him. Greg turned. Half buried in the sand was a huge treasure chest, doubly secured with exterior padlocked chains. "That’s part of you. Is that where you’re hiding your love for her."

"No," Greg answered. "Actually, that’s where I’m hiding the ugly parts of me – the parts I use for the thugs and the killers. Don’t you get it? Hope and light dominate my life for no other reason than the happiness you’ve given me all these years. The other stuff is small and locked up tight. Or don’t you believe your own senses?"

"You certainly know exactly what to say," Robin said, kissing him. "Then you don’t love her?"

"Not like I love you," Greg answered. "She’s my friend. I want to help her. But you’re my lover. Nothing is more important to me than you."

"I think I know some ways you might convince me," Robin smiled, arching to lean heavily against him.

"There’s nothing I’m looking forward to more," Greg smiled. "Just let me get us safe." Sighing, Robin stood up, dropping her arms from around his neck to take his hand.

"If only we could stay here forever," she murmured.

"I’m hoping I’ll be putting you through this only a little while longer," Greg said. He walked over to where the chest jutted from the sand and yanked it up by handles on each side. "Virginia and I were finally able to establish a direct connection the last time I was pulled in. In the early days, the two of us together were people you did not want to mess around with. This may be the last time she needs my help. Then I’m all yours."

"I want to go with you," Robin told him.

"If you actually want to help me, you’ll keep your consciousness here and be the lookout for that gang. If you joined the link with Virginia, me, and that other Monarch, it would be subtraction by addition. You’re not a warrior, Robin, and I’d be too worried about keeping you safe to be of any help to Virginia. I’m going to a fight, sweetheart. I’ll be that much better prepared knowing that you’ve got my back."

"Okay. I even believe you’re telling the truth and not making an excuse to keep me away. But that also means you’ll need to stay open to me so I can call you if those men show up."

"That’s right," Greg said, a bit uncomfortable with the thought that Robin might still be thinking of merging into the link too. Shrugging his doubts aside, he leaned forward and kissed her. "I should be back in time for dinner," he said, straightening up. "Don’t eat all of the jerky."

"Right," Robin sighed. She watched him turn and begin walking along the edge of the beach. Too soon, she lost sight of him around the circumference of the island.

Darkness descended quickly as Greg walked. Water swallowed up his path as the flora changed from island to swamp. He looked at the chest he held in front of him. With a shake, the chains fell away and the top tipped open. He dropped it into the mud in front of him and reached in to take the two kamas from it – short sticks with sharp curved blades at one end. "Ginny, are you there?" he called out. He then saw her leather boots standing next to the chest. "All here now, eh?" he said, glancing up. "Wow – you’ve really aged well," he smiled. "In fact, you may look even younger than the day I met you at that Taekwondo tournament."

"I don’t see any gray hair in your head, either," she returned. "We certainly have healthy images of ourselves." She brushed back hair from her face. "I was resting – waiting for your call. Are you ready?"

"Sure. What’s the plan?"

"The castle is how my body manifested in this dream," Virginia answered, pointing behind her. "Let’s go get it back for me." Greg looked at the imposing structure. It loomed closer than ever.

"Okay," Greg nodded. He got up and started walking beside her. "In the old days," he went on, "I seem to remember you being more of a tactician."

"I want this fight," Virginia said, no joking in her tone. "For the past twenty years, I’ve poured every ounce of myself into trying to make a world to dream of. Maybe it was as impossible as you liked to claim it was, but I still would have liked to see what I could have done if I didn’t have to deal with the Judases and other self-serving backstabbing vermin!"

"I’m done being your critic," Greg said. "You’re the only queen of the earth I’d ever want. Whoever did this to you started something with me too."

They walked on, slipping easily into roles time couldn’t erase. Finally, the swamp began to retreat, and they found their path had turned into a discernible road that led directly to the castle. The trees gave way to an open plain as well, and so Greg wondered what material their enemies would use against them next. Ahead, before the barbican, he thought he could make out someone. Gradually, he was able to make out the figure of a woman. She was young and smartly dressed, her mouth pinched tight and her arms folded across her chest.

"Welcome, President Dent," the woman said with terse formality. "You proved the stories about you were not mythology. You are very formidable as Fabio and Reuben found out. To spare us further violence, I thought it was time we talked."

"Who is she?" Greg asked.

"Allessandra Guerra, deputy environmental secretary for the Americas," Virginia answered. "I have to say, Allessandra, I’m surprised to see you here. Are you my real enemy or someone else’s dupe?"

"There! The haughty arrogance of Virginia Dent on display once again," the woman sneered. "Is it too much for you to accept that the President of the United Americas, Secretary General of the United Nations, and Supreme Monarch of the entire world could be brought down by a lowly environmental secretary – one she cannot even name? My name is Allessandra Guevera, not Guerra. It was a pleasure to lead this coup against you and return the humiliations you’ve heaped upon me ten-fold." Virginia’s expression turned incredulous.

"Are you insane? You claim I humiliated you? I barely know you! Yet you tried to murder me. And you’ve thrown the entire government into upheaval. Millions of people are at risk because you’re nursing some private grudge."

"Listen to you. The Guevera's merit less attention to the great Virginia Dent than the mosquito buzzing around her ear. A stroke of your pen left my father ruined and humiliated in the land reforms you forced on Bolivia 15 years ago. Then I was not even a teenager when you taught me to hate you. Still, I gave you another chance when I discovered our common Monarch lineage, only to be slapped down by you once again when you purged the Populista party from our positions in the American and European parliaments. It was too much."

"I can’t believe this," Virginia said, her pitch rising. She turned to Greg. "I’m going to kill this cow!"

"Wait," Greg interrupted. He turned to the woman. "You obviously wanted to talk," he called to her. "Was it just to gloat? Or are you offering us something?"

"I want to make a trade," the woman answered quickly. "Your lives for my own. The Populista party was only three other Monarchs and myself. One coward did not join us. Your Immune wounded my other colleague and the two of you killed Fabio when he tried to keep you separated. Clearly, our political play is over, but I have very little to lose. I cannot defeat the two of you here in this dimension. But I am also dead if I let you regain your body and consciousness."

"You were smart enough to figure that out," Virginia said. "Why didn’t you use that bit of common sense before you hatched your evil little scheme. You would have lived a lot longer."

"I still have a card to play," Allessandra shot back. She held up one hand. In it she clasped a syringe. "An Immune ally holds the real syringe back in the world."

"I doubt you’ll be able to stick that in me, or you would have already," Virginia said. "Undoubtedly, my body is well guarded."

"Yes, we cannot get to you. But this is not for you – it’s for me. Have you not guessed? This is Skurv 99 – a one way trip for a Monarch. But it’ll give me the power I need for one last fight. You see, Virginia, either both of us or neither of us is going to see the sunrise tomorrow, unless, that is, you give me exile instead of death. I know your history, good and bad. I know your word of honor is something on which I can risk my life." Virginia’s anger retreated from her face, her calculating demeanor returning in its place. She studied her nemesis.

"Allessandra," she said finally, "you’re right – I am honest. And if I didn’t tell you that you’d be lucky if they were feeding your drooling carcass with a tube in six hours, I’d be lying to you." Allessandra’s eyes grew wide with anger, quickly followed by fear the instant before Virginia’s blast hit her. Her body curled around the streaming ray of sky blue light as if she been struck by a battering ram. It carried her dozens of feet back through the guard gate and into the lower court of the illusory castle. "Now, Greg!" Virginia shouted to him.

Greg hesitated. Normally, he would have charged in, but he had never before fought a woman in mortal combat. "Quick – what’s Skurv 99?" he asked.

"It boosts the Monarch portions of the cerebellum. Usually, a single dose is enough for the heavy metals in the formula to lobotomize us. No one has ever lived to take a third hit. Look, I know you don’t fight women, but I’ll need a minute before I can blast her again, and that girl is seconds from being an off-the-charts Monarch like that kid we found in Mexico."

"How long does the hit last?" Greg asked.

"Damn it, Greg! She’s getting up!" For a description, "getting up" was an understatement. Allessandra glowed like a lava lamp, purple smoke pouring off of her like a tire fire.

"Ginny, as far as I know, I’ve never killed a woman. And I didn’t wait until I was 47 to suddenly add that to my balance sheet. You admitted yourself, Skurv 99 is a one-way ticket. That chick just committed suicide. The only thing we have to do is not let her take us with her. How long will she be supercharged?"

"Twenty minutes at the outside. And since you’re not listening to me, I do hope you have a plan!"

"I'm a trained disciplined Immune. We'll use that. We play defense."

"You and your chivalry," Virginia said, shaking her head. She moved beside him and took his hand as he switched both kamas to the other. "Okay, let’s see what you’ve got in there," she whispered. In the next instant, they were standing on the white sand of Greg's island.

"No one’s ever reached me here uninvited," he tried to reassure her. "Time is on our side." But even before he could finish his last sentence, the sky began to darken, and they watched purple fog race toward them across the waves.

"Your natural immunity won't protect us against her level of power, Greg."

"I'm not done yet," he whispered. He squeezed her hand. The scene changed.

Now they stood in a eight by eight room. The floor, walls and ceiling were white. "No doors," Virginia commented. "Nice. Are we still on the beach?" Greg didn't respond. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing in time with the movements of his abdomen. Then Virginia looked down at her feet. Purple mist eddied around the tips of her boots. She bit her lip. "There’s no holding her back," she said. "No matter – I think you've bought me enough time." In the next moment, Virginia’s body blurred as if viewed through an off-focus lens. Then she lit up with blue luminescence. Next to her, Greg opened his eyes and brought his kamas up to ready position. The walls of the room disintegrated instantly. Darkness surrounded them, broken only by the yellow stares of lidless serpentine eyes."

Virginia attacked immediately. A beam of blue-white stabbed into the darkness toward a pair of eyes. A misshapen head with three inch fangs was lit in the flash of impact. It emitted an inhuman howl in the last seconds before it vaporized. "This woman has some hellacious nightmares," Greg whispered. At his back, Virginia didn’t talk as she kept up her barrage of light. She destroyed a half dozen more monsters before the first came in the range of Greg’s kamas.

He caught one grasping claw in the hook of his left blade, bringing the right up slicing through its armpit. He then brought the left and right down together in a staccato that scored Swiss with the monster’s reptilian hide. This creature, too, gave an angry cry as it melted back into the purple vapor.

"I can’t keep this up," Virginia gasped behind him.

"Join with me – I’ll drive," Greg said. Back to back, Virginia leaned against him. Abruptly, her glowing form melted into his. Instantly, Greg became a whirlwind of motion. His blades were spinning destruction, his hooking kicks pulverizing sledgehammers. In his wake, the creatures where shredded into puffs of vapor. A woman’s scream interrupted his cyclone of destruction.

"NO!" came her deafening cry. Two huge demon hands reached for him from the darkness. His intercepting kama blow bounced off of its scaled mail, and the taloned fingers found his throat.

Greg dropped his weapons, trying to pull the hands from his throat. He recognized Allessandra, and her strength was incredible. Darkness closed at the edges of his vision. He felt for Ginny’s boost, but he had spent his partner’s strength at the onset of their joining. "No! We’ve got to live!" he thought, his deliberate grappling changing to desperate clawing. "Damn it, don’t," he thought with fading intensity.

"Get off of him!" Robin’s clear voice cut through his stupor. After several seconds, he realized his lover was on the monster’s back, scratching at the creature’s eyes. The claws let him go and reached for her.

"No you won’t!" he thought fiercely, finding a reserve he didn’t know he had. He snatched a kama from the ground and buried the blade to the hilt in Allessandra’s forehead. Stunned, the creature stopped struggling. Then the light faded from her eyes, and Greg found himself catching Robin as she fell through the monster’s vaporizing form. "Are you hurt, sweetheart? Didn’t I tell you not to come in here?" He needn’t have asked. Even from scant seconds in Allessandra’s hands, Robin had been thoroughly roughed up. But that was the extent of it. She would recover.

Greg felt Virginia leave him, and looked down to see her on all fours trying to catch her breath. "You could have done that without all of the drama if you’d just listened to me from the start," she gasped.

"Yeah, maybe. I truly didn’t want to do that. God help us – why are so many Monarchs raving lunatics?" He helped Virginia to her feet, and now supported both women.

"He doesn’t listen to anybody," Robin said, "and lucky for him, neither do I," she finished with a wicked grin.

"Without a doubt, you’re the luckiest thing that ever happened to me," Greg said, smiling in return. Virginia leaned heavily on his other arm. She had her eyes closed and seemed to be taking long slow breaths. Greg turned back to her. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I’m alive, big man! My heart, my lungs, liver, kidneys, all of it. It feels so wonderful!" Around them, the castle began to change. The walls begin to shimmer with blue luminescence, and the stand-alone structures began to merge with one another.

"We’re delighted we could help, Ginny. Allow me to introduce my lady-love Robin DeBerry."

"Thanks for the loan, Robin," Virginia told her. "I needed your man to do his thing of ‘saving my ass’ one more time. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you both."

"It’s okay," Robin answered, smiling pleasantly. Ahead of them, the castle had transformed into a single glowing blue dome.

"Well, you’ve got yet another new lease on life, Ginny."

"Yes. I wonder if the world is ready for Virginia Dent version 2020." She gave a little laugh but with a noticeably joyless tone. "And before I ask this, I know the answer, but here goes. Greg, let me reward you and Robin in some way. The both of you could come to Washington. Or Paris, Tokyo – whatever you want."

"No thanks, Ginny. But you can see about calling off the hit squad Allessandra sent after us."

"That should be no problem for my monarchs," Virginia said.

"And, oh yeah – I’ve got a couple of teenagers I promised to help get set up in ‘Washington,’" he added.

"Of course," Virginia sighed. "I suppose this is it, then." Still leaning on him, she hugged Greg lightly before stepping away to stand in front of the couple. They stared at one another without saying a word. "Any sage advice to send me off with this time, partner?" she asked finally. Greg rubbed his chin. Then his smile returned.

"How about a long vacation," he suggested, "a vacation for the whole Circle. Let the reins loose on the world. You and your Monarchs can go and . . . live like monarchs! Take a few years and be dilettantes like the Greek gods or something. Who knows – maybe we’ll see a renaissance like ancient Greece happen now. Give us a little freedom, and you might be surprised at what us mere mortals come up with." Virginia gave him a curious look.

"You know, I kind of like your idea," she said. She turned and began walking forward into the light. Before she disappeared into it, she gave them a last wave. "You two take care. I’ll see you around."