Chapter 25.

BENTLEY HIGH SCHOOL
DOS PUEBLOS, CAL.
SEPT. 16, 1993
(2:15 P.M./PST)

"As you know," said Lynne Parker (the head varsity cheerleader): ". . .it's our custom to elect a new pep captain to take over for the departing senior of the squad after graduation. Here to say a few words on her own behalf is the first candidate for that position: Chris Caulder!"

The blonde junior stepped up to the microphone and nervously cleared "her" throat.

"Well, first of all, I'd just like to say that I like Bentley a lot. And, I'm going to keep coming here! But, I'm tired of deciding what clothes to wear."

Naturally, there was a chorus of puzzled murmurs from the audience. Except for "Coach Glatt," that is; she merely smiled in anticipation. Carefully positioning the BHS pennant in her right hand closer to her mouth. A minute later, she brought it fully to her lips, while everyone else's attention was focused on the flat-chested "girl" who had just doffed his yellow wig!

Whatever else he had been about to confess, however, was interrupted. . .by the sudden entrance of Sam Beckett's mind into Chris Caulder's body. A pause that "Coach Glatt" used to her advantage. With one strong exhalation of breath, she sent a dart tipped with "shrink ray" venom flying on its way toward the left side of the young cross-dresser's neck!

Where it landed dead on target.

* * * * *

SAM BECKETT'S P.O.V.

One moment, I had been talking to Al in the city jail at DPPD Headquarters. And, the next thing I knew, I was standing before some kind of high school assembly.

"The pep rally!" I instantly thought to myself: "I've leaped forward at least six. . ."

That's when I felt a sharp stinging sensation on the left side of my neck.

"Ouch!" I yelped aloud, instinctively slapping at the spot with my left hand.

I removed whatever had stung me. Yet, before I could get a good look at it, everything went dark! Not like I was fainting, mind you. Because, I didn't feel myself falling forward before the black-out. Rather, I had a sudden blockage of my inner ears. Like I did when I had landed at LAX, after my first-ever commercial flight from Indiana to the West Coast. But, while I couldn't see anything, I could certainly hear a thunderous commotion out beyond the pitch blackness. People shouting and screaming and excitedly asking questions with such over-lapping speed, I couldn't understand what they were inquiring about!

Then, somebody turned the lights back on. Temporarily blinding me. And, by the time my eyes had adjusted, my initial thought was that I'd been blowgun-drugged with some kind of hallucinogen. Because, I found myself surrounded by thirteen open-mouthed cheerleaders wearing purple-and-gold sweaters over white pleated mini-skirts.

And, every single one of them looked a hundred feet tall!

It was at this point that the lights went out, again. As one of the cheerleaders (a raven-haired brunette, with her hair pony-tailed by a white scrunchie) suddenly knelt down and scooped me up in her right hand.

* * * * *

Upon the roof of the high school gym, Anyanka was rejoicing.

"Yes-yes-YES! We did it."

"We certainly did," agreed Sahjahn: "But, now, I have to report our success to the higher authority I work for. So, as they used to say in Ethiopia; 'Abyssinia!' "

Whereupon, the latter time-shifted back to the 21st century offices of Shieldcorp.

Meanwhile, back at the Halfway Inn, Michelle Webster entered Merrick Jamison-Smythe's room, in answer to a note she had found on the night stand next to her room's bed. A note informing her that he had just received some vital information from the Watcher's Council, and which she needed to hear upon her return from "patrol."

Upon closing the door to Room 403, however, her progress was suddenly halted by a piezo-electric force field generated by a circle of magic crystals! A circle that had been open. . .until the closed door completed the circuit.

"What the frig...?" she began to exclaim.

Merrick came out of the bathroom carrying an empty plastic water bottle. . .and a .38 caliber snubnose revolver.

"Sorry, my dear. But, I finally grew tired of you running off to avoid answering my questions! So, I've decided to 'force' the issue."

"That's not funny, Merrick. And, neither is this. Let me out of here!"

"Not until you've told me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You see, while you were out, I took the liberty of replaying the images you first showed me via that scrying stone."

He nodded in affirmation upon seeing the shocked look of disbelief on her face.

"Oh, yes! I know a few spells for activating such crystals myself. As that force cage should obviously evince. And, now I know that you were only being half-truthful with me when we first met! So, tell me the rest. Or, I swear to God, I will shoot you between the eyes, right here and now, and decapitate you while you're regenerating!"

To emphasize the point, he inserted the mouth of the handgun into the open neck of the bottle.

"If it helps," the Englishman continued: ". . .to make it even easier, for you, we'll start with your _true_ name. What is it?"

Michelle knew he meant every word of his threat. So, she bowed her head and complied.

"Alia."

Sahjahn materialized before the A.I. known as Lothos, and saw that Zoey Zantosa was already there. Kneeling in complete subservience before the cube-shaped hologram projector. So, he pretended to do likewise.

"Welcome home, Sahjahn! Zoey tells me that congratulations are in order."

"Thank you, Milord. And, she is correct. The body of Chris Caulder has been shrunken down to two inches tall. With the mind of Sam Beckett trapped within it, courtesy of Anyanka's magic! As for Chris Caulder's mind? His protestations will insure a life-long commitment, in the nearest 20th century mental hospital, for the body of Harry D'Amour!"

"Which, of course," added Zoey: ". . .further insures the death of Xander Harris at the centennial birthday party."

"Where is the real Michelle Webster?" continued Merrick: "In relation to your time period, I mean."

Alia sighed: "She's dead. Beheaded by an antitribu Gangrel named Amelin. Because, I told you the truth about that much. Michelle was an Immortal! But, she was more than that to me. She. . . .she was. . ."

"Your lover?" Merrick prompted.

Alia nodded; her eyes beginning to moisten. So, Merrick paused a moment before resuming the interrogation.

"And, this youngster, Xander Harris. What is so special about him that you would astrally project into your lover's past self? Risking premature activation of her Immortality, in the process?"

Alia looked up and stared the Englishman straight in the eye.

"If I can prevent his death at Matt Hamilton's birthday party, he might save the life of a Slayer named Buffy Summers, later on. And, in saving her life, she might also prevent the activation of an artificial intelligence named Lothos! Because, in my time, it's not Charles Bromley that runs Shieldcorp. It's Lothos. Everyone else- -even Bromley- -is forced to obey him. Through the use of behavior modification chips that were surgically implanted in their brains!"

BENTLEY HIGH SCHOOL,

DOS PUEBLOS, CAL.

09/16/93 (2:39 P.M./PST)

"So, let me get this straight," said the police officer: "Your daughter, Chris, is really your _son_?"

Louis Caulder glumly nodded: "He felt compelled to. . .disguise himself. . .to escape the incessant persecution of Kurt Stark and his fellow bullies."

"But, Stark and his cronies have been missing for almost four days!" protested the officer: "So, why didn't Chris just resume wearing boys' clothes? Why continue this weird charade?"

"I'll tell you why!" Marie Stark exclaimed (in answering this same question from the first officer's partner): 'Because he's no different from any other boy my age! Only interested in one thing. And, he thought this would be the best way to accomplish it!"

"I see. And, do you have any idea how he managed to literally drop out of sight, in front of all these people?"

The second officer motioned to the bleacher load of witnesses still waiting to be interviewed.

Marie shrugged: "Maybe you should ask a professional magician. There's one staying at the Halfway Inn! The same one who was hired to perform at my great-grandfather's upcoming birthday party, in fact."

"Thank you, ma'am. We'll do just that."

As the police had finished interviewing all the other cheerleaders, Marie, Lynne, and the rest of the squad were free to head back to the girls' locker room. Which they subsequently did, as swiftly as possible!

Once they were inside, Lynne fished the current object of police inquiry out from underneath her sweater.

"OK, small fry. Start talking!"

tbc