Chapter 36.

PRESIDENTIAL SUITE,

S.F. AIRPORT HILTON

(3:10 A.M./PST)

"The Ferrula Geminiarum can serve one of two functions," continued Giles: "It can split a person into his or her stronger and weaker aspects (their positive and negative halves if you will). . ."

"Oh!" exclaimed Willow: "Like when Jim Kirk got Jekyll-and-Hyded by the transporter beam, on the original STAR TREK."

"Uhm, yes. . .sort of," agreed Giles: "Or, it can fuse those two aspects back together. And, in Glory's case, I greatly fear it was used for both purposes. If so, Cordelia is more than possessed. She has been forcibly _merged_ with Glory! With the latter mentally dominant."

"Is there any to fix that?" Xander now asked: "I mean; even Cordie doesn't deserve a fate like that!"

"That would first require determining the Ferrula Geminiarum's location," declared Giles: "And, I can think of only one way to do that. Directed viewing! But, that will entail putting Buffy. . .under hypnosis."

Meanwhile, at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, a certain radar operator activated his microphonic headset and contacted his shift supervisor.

"Sharkey, here," replied the chief petty officer.

"Chief? This is Kowalski. I've got a bogie on my screen. Heading due eastward. . .straight toward us!"

"Did you try raising it on the radio?"

"Aye-aye, Chief. But, there was no response!"

"I'll be right over."

Chief Sharkey was as good as his word. A minute later, he was literally looking over Seaman Kowalski's right shoulder. "Try to raise it, again," the former ordered. And the latter nodded.

"This is NAS Pearl Harbor to unidentified aircraft. We have you on our radar screen, heading towards restricted military airspace. Please identify yourself and your flight plan. Over?"

They waited a full sixty seconds, before Chief Sharkey ordered a third try. And, still there was no response! So, the CPO told Seaman Kowalski to keep trying, before striding over to a wall-mounted telephone with what looked like a blank rotary dial on it.

"This is Sharkey. Get me the Officer-of-the-Watch."

The Legacy Learjet had been heading roughly southwestward, before veering due west over Pennsylvania (somewhere between Erie and Pittsburgh). When the pilot had duly notified his passengers of this, the blonde woman sitting next to him smiled maternally at how nervously the Greek monk was praying.

"Don't worry, Brother Demetrius. At our current speed, we'll be reaching the Mississippi River before you know it. Then, it's figuratively all downhill from there!"

Brother Demetrius smiled back, and nodded in apparent understanding. But, in fact, it was not generic fear of flying that was making him pray. He was actually praying that the real courier of the Dagon-sphere would safely make it to San Francisco!

MICK ST. JOHN'S P.O.V.

When Angel and I showed up at his Nob Hill mansion, Cash of the Gangrel Clan escorted straight into Julian Luna's private study. There, we found him mulling over what Sonny Toussaint and Frank Kohanek had just told him.

"You're sure he was Kiasyd?"

"Oh, yeah!" Sonny exclaimed: "There's no mistaking those unglamourized facial features!"

"Okay," said Kohanek: "I'll bite (no pun intended). What's a Kiasyd?"

"A bloodline of Clan LaSombra," broke in Angel: "Co-founders of the Sabbat. A changeling (or half-mortal fae) was supposedly Embraced by a Kindred of that clan. And, all vampires sired by him- -or one of his childer- -since then, have the power to disguise themselves as anyone they want via magical glamour. Not so much actual shape shifting as perception distortion!"

"At the risk of belaboring the obvious?" I said: "If you've got a Kiasyd loose in your city, that can mean only one thing."

Prince Julian nodded: "A possible Sabbat incursion."

"There's only one way to find out for sure," Sonny replied: "Capture this Ethan Rayne, so me and Daedalus can. . .question him."

Kohanek shook his head: "Easier said than done. This guy was a con artist _long_ before his Embrace. So, he's probably got a dozen different bolt holes, under just as many aliases, at least!"

Angel snapped his fingers: "Why don't we go to TJN Investments and find out from his office computer? I know a guy from Sunnydale who's a whiz at websurfing!"

Twenty minutes later, Angel was introducing us to Daniel Osbourne. Better known to his friends as "Oz." And, Prince Julian gave him a most cordial smile.

"So you're the Garou who was so helpful to us at the Haven, earlier tonight."

Oz modestly shrugged and nodded.

"If you need to be technical," he added: "I'm a galliard of the Glass Walker tribe. But, of mixed Fenrir and Fianna descent. At least, that's what I've been told by the Garou who's been tutoring me on how to more actively control my shapeshifting!"

"And, do you really know your way around cyberspace as well as you do the strings of a guitar?"

"Why?" Oz countered: "What do you have in mind?"

So, Prince Julian told him. And, Oz grinned.

"Like William Tell told his son after putting the apple on his head; 'I'll give it my best shot.'"

Angel winced. "You've been hanging around Xander too long."

MEANWHILE, BACK AT PEARL HARBOR. . .

Captain Derek Crane carefully listened to Chief Sharkey's oral report, as it had been relayed to him by the Officer-of-the-Watch; Lieutenant (junior grade) Eugene Morton.

"And, there's been no response to any of the hails?"

"None, sir. And, the bogie is now a hundred miles closer to Pearl."

"Very well. Launch a couple of Tomcats to intercept. But, unless the bogie proves hostile without provocation, they are to recon only! Is that understood?"

"Aye-aye, sir!"

Five minutes later, two RF-14's took off. . .heading due westward.

TJN INVESTMENTS,

MARKET STREET,

(4:00 A.M./PST)

MICK ST. JOHN'S P.O.V.

It didn't take us long to hot-foot it, through the sewers, to Ethan Rayne's place of business. Even Oz (in Krinos form) managed to keep up a steady, two-legged pace! But, the real difficulty was in getting through the file walls of Rayne's desk top personal computer.

"He must have had top professionals install this," Oz remarked: "Color me grudgingly impressed!"

"Does this mean you _can't_ hack his system?" demanded Angel.

"Bite your tongue! It'll just take some unanticipated extra effort. That's all!"

Oz was as good as his word. Thirty minutes later, he gave out with a muted yell of triumph.

"Bingo!"

"What've you got?" I asked.

"I have a feeling he's hiding out in a time-share condo complex, just north of Sausalito. The one supposedly owned by his boss, to be exact."

"Supposedly?" echoed Sonny.

Oz grinned: "It's leased to a Thomas Jerome Newton. And, wasn't that the name of the space alien David Bowie played, in THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH?"

I now grinned, myself: "At least this guy's consistent."

tbc