/- Well now, I'll be. TWO reviews? That's just insane... ;)

But keep 'em coming, it encourages me a bit. If you make any suggestions in a review that I find agreeable, I'll try and include them in a chapter. (i.e., in this one, I'll be sharpening my detail skillz, even though it's rather plot-heavy... =P )

Also, the site appeared to be having a little trouble lately, wherein the third chapter just... disappeared for a day, along with my previous review. I resubmitted the document, and it appears that the reviews are back, so I'll keep my fingers crossed that it doesn't break again.

Also, these chapters are small enough that it appears I'm able to write one a night. We'll see how long that holds up, but for now, check back each evening and see if there's a new piece up. ;)

Happy Reading! -- Icebreaker -/

"What the hell do you mean, you're cutting my funding?"

The department chairman cleared his throat, and the sound of it echoed from the walls of his spacious office. There was a large, mahogany desk parallel to one wall, with a small, potted tree in an opposite corner. Sunlight came down in diagonal bars from the wide windows, with their blinds halfway drawn over a view of the college common grounds.

The rather portly, balding man seated behind the desk interlaced his fingers and placed his hands on his stomach. "Well, as we've said before, Dr. Card, the university feels that it can no longer associate itself with such... radical research as yours."

The sunlight glinted momentarily off of Nicholas Card's glasses, his form hunched over his ever-present walking stick. "MY research? It's linguistics, for God's sake!" His eye twitched slightly, and he threw one hand into the air, palm open. "How can you deem my research to be radical, up against Professor Toilbert? Wasting particle accelerator time on these 'gravitons' of his..." He paused for a moment as he gestured towards the door. "Or what about that grad student, the one working exclusively on time travel, of all things! I understand he's getting quite a good chunk of change, funding-wise, from your department, eh?"

The chairman sighed as he looked down at the stack of papers on his desk. "Nicholas, the fact is, the claims you've been making to the public, combined with your latest psych report..." He rifled through the stack to a particular sheaf of paper, looked over it briefly, and then glanced back up to Nicholas. "Have you seen these reports yet? I mean, you've got a very strange form of schizophrenia... granted, a mild case, but still..."

Dr. Card's mind froze for a second, although he showed no outward signs of it. "Well, well well," he thought to himself. "You knew this day would come... you aren't made of money, you know, can't keep the medical records altered forever..."

Outwardly, he snorted. "Bah. Psychology never was an exact science, I always said. And besides, the report says it's a mild case anyway, right? It's never got in the way of my work before..." He squinted through his glasses as he gazed towards the chairman. "Sir, you know as well as I do that my results can't be argued with. And if I'm right... if dolphins are truly as intelligent as I believe..."

"Regardless of my thoughts on the matter," the Chairman said, cutting him off, "you have to admit that there is a certain amount of... difficulty proving your results to the skeptic." He leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger on the report in front of him. "Your public statements have attracted a good amount of public attention. If any journalists were to gain access to the facts contained in this report... and combine THAT with the fact that your demonstrations could easily be duplicated with careful training of the animals and a good dollop of general fakery..."

He leaned forward and sighed once more. "Even if you don't agree with my decision, you see the reasons behind it, do you not? The integrity of the department comes first... you understand?"

Nicholas took a long, calming breath. "Oh yes, I understand," he said, his raspy voice shaking with quiet anger. "I understand that when I do perfect the methods behind my research, it will be a breakthrough such that the world has never before seen, and I also understand that it will be ME, not you, not this university, not ANYONE else, that will be credited with it's completion."

The chairman flashed a slight grin. "As well the case may be, Dr. Card, but I'm afraid I must ask you to pack your things and leave by the end of the week." He adjusted his position in his cushioned office chair, stacking the papers spread across the desk as he did so. "Now, I have another appointment shortly, so if you could please see yourself to the door..."

Nicholas was dead silent for a full thirty seconds as the chairman arranged his papers. "As you wish, SIR," he finally said, putting cold emphasis on the last word. He turned around and hobbled towards the door, using his one good leg and his walking stick to move.

He emerged into a hallway painted in neutral colors, with a bench against one wall of the corridor. On this bench sat a rather young man, no older than twenty, with brown hair, green eyes, and a sharply trimmed, rather sparse goatee. He stood up as Nicholas limped out of the door.

"Dr. Card... I couldn't help overhearing your predicament. I'm truly sorry to hear that -"

"Save it, Rescii." Nicholas glared at the student from behind his wire- frame glasses. "I know it was you that suggested I get psych-tested in the first place." He raised his walking stick slightly and gestured towards Donovan. "You couldn't give a rat's ass about my well-being, you're just out for your research, for that big discovery, just like the rest of them..."

"Like me..." he added in his own thoughts.

Donovan paused, his mouth slightly open. "Please understand, Dr. Card, I was only acting in the best interests of -"

"Of the university, yeah yeah yeah. I told you to save it, Rescii, and I meant it." With that, Nicholas Card hobbled off down the corridor, without so much as a look back over his shoulder. And a gangly, goatee-wearing Donovan Rescii looked at the doctor's retreating form momentarily, before entering the door in front of him and stepping into the chairman's office.

They wouldn't see each other again for another six years...

- - - - - - - - - -

Donovan ducked his head as he stepped into the bungalow of Nicholas Card. "So, uh, tell me, Nicholas," he said, as his eyes began adjusting to the relatively low light levels inside, "how close are you to completing the devices used in your research?"

As his eyes adjusted, Donovan looked around at what appeared to be a single- room building. All along the walls were gutted electronic equipment of various kinds: wires, chips, and control knobs all knotted together around steel and aluminum cases. There was a bed in one corner, as well as what appeared to be an oscilloscope crammed under it. An icebox resided in the middle of the room, it's chrome finish reflecting back the chipped, aquamarine paint on the walls.

Dr. Card stepped in afterwards, wearing a somewhat less-angrier scowl than before. "Oh hell, let's see here," he said, as he stepped across the room towards a closed, wooden cabinet against the far wall. "I must've finished up, what... two, three years ago?"

Donovan nearly choked on his own saliva at this revelation. "But... but you..." He coughed slightly, recomposed himself, and continued. "I thought your plan was to perfect your research, and then release your results to the general public? You said you were going to get all the credit for your work, and not have to share it with anyone."

Nicholas sighed as he continued crossing the room. "Well, yes, that was the original plan, but that course of action was born out of vengeance more than anything else. I've mellowed out some in the last few years, which is why I'm talking to you and haven't, in fact, put a large hole in your head." He gestured toward a shotgun propped against the doorframe that Donovan had missed in his initial scan of the room. "I find that a hermit's lifestyle, while having it's own unique set of problems, is in fact quite enjoyable... Now, can I get you anything to drink?" he asked, throwing open the doors of the far cabinet, revealing double rows of various bottles of alcohol.

Donovan, despite his near brush with death, couldn't help but grin slightly. "That old bastard, he's still got it..."

"Uh, I'll just take a shot of vodka, if that's allright." Nicholas nodded and started pouring the drinks as Donovan had a seat on the foot of the bed. "So, Dr. Card, uh... am I to believe that your communications gear is fully functional?"

"About as functional as I can make it, and I hope I don't sound boastful when I say that that's pretty damn good." He made his way toward the bed with a drink in each hand, passing one to Donovan as he took a seat. "And I suppose you want a demonstration, huh?" he said, as he took a sip of scotch.

Donovan downed his shot, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth. "Well, actually, yes, if you have the time..."

"Splendid, I'd be happy to. But first," he said, squinting his eyes behind his glasses, "how about you tell me what the hell it is that brings you out to see me?"

- - - - - - - - - -

"Ecco! That's a neat name." Trellia spun around in the water once more, before turning to regard her counterpart. "Are you here to play with me? Sometimes a dolphin or two will come in from the deep waters to play with me and Nicholas up there..."

Ecco grinned inwardly. "Oh, but if only I had time for play!" he thought to himself. "Fate, unfortunately, continues to have other plans for me..."

"No, Trellia, actually I have to warn you and those land-dwelling creatures..." A thought occurred to him. "By the way, what's the name for them? Those creatures up there, I mean." He gestured with his bottlenose inland, where two forms were emerging from Nicholas's bungalow and making their way to the beach.

Trellia nonchalantly turned to regard the two figures. "Oh, you mean those guys? They're called humans, everyone knows that." She swam up to the surface for a breath of air, then came back down. "You act funny, Ecco. It's like you're from another world or something..."

Ecco smirked at that comment. "Actually, you may not be far off..."

"Whaaa...?" Trellia exclaimed, bubbles emerging from her open beak.

"Er, nevermind about that just yet. You mentioned that the elder one up there named you?"

Trellia turned her head to one side, regarding Ecco quizzically. "Well, yes. The old man up there found me when I was just a baby, and called me Trellia... He's the only human I've ever met that can sing, and he's actually a really nice creature." Trellia paused, and wiggled her left fin up and down. "Well, actually, he doesn't do the singing, this little box that he tosses in the water does it for him. He tells it what to say in human-speak, and it sings it out to me."

"Amazing!" Ecco thought. "Not only can this elder sing to dolphins, it also appears that he has mastery of machinery! This is an elder of Atlantis for sure!"

- - - - - - - - -

"Allright, Rescii, I don't necessarily believe you, but I've never met a dolphin who lied."

Donovan and Nicholas were walking down from the house to the beach, where a makeshift pier jutted out into the water. Donovan was carrying what looked like two half-shoeboxes under each arm, with long antennae on either one.

"Damn man, aliens... you sure you weren't just on a bad trip or something?"

Donovan sighed before turning to regard the old man walking next to him. "Nicholas, I don't 'trip' at all. Don't worry, the dolphin will verify my story, if you wish not to believe me." He glanced down at the boxes under his arms. "What I'm worried about is whether these things actually work, or if you just pre-programmed some random responses into them."

Nicholas grinned as he stepped up onto the pier. "Rescii, you flatter me by thinking I'd stoop so low as to entertain myself with the simple delusion of talking to a dolphin. These are the real deal, I assure you." He stopped about halfway down the pier, and turned towards Donovan. "Allright, chief, throw one overboard."

The younger of the two hesitated. "What, just throw one in there? Does it matter which one?"

Nicholas shook his head. "Nope, pick one to hang onto, and chuck the other overboard. They're just beefed up microcomputers hooked together via wireless link, running my translation software and using microphones and speakers as input/output. And of course," he said, bending over to stare into the water, "totally waterproof."

He put his fingers in his mouth and emitted a shrill whistle, as Donovan threw one of the boxes into the water with a ker-SPLASH. Trellia came swimming up from out farther in the ocean, apparently called by Nicholas's whistle, with Ecco not too far behind.

"Allright, it's show time. Rescii, let me see the remaining box."

Donovan obligingly handed over the box that was still under his arm, and Nicholas wasted no time pulling open a cover and adjusting several knobs underneath. "Allright, signal strength's good, squealch's fine, voltage's great... and, power UP..."

He flicked a switch on the back of the unit, and for a few seconds, all Donovan could hear was static. It gradually dissipated, however, leaving behind silence with a clicking noise at regular intervals.

"Testing, testing," Nicholas said, speaking toward the box. "Trellia, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Nicholas," said the box, and Donovan almost lost his footing, his mind reeling.

"Wha... what... no, you couldn't really have..."

"Humans!" said the box, albeit in a different voice, which Donovan, even in his current unbalanced state, presumed was the dolphin that had wrecked his boat earlier. "I can see that you are truly Atlanteans of the highest order, and can only congratulate you on such a wonderful peace of machinery!"

The young astrophysicist's mind split into different threads, each one pursuing a different train of thought that tried to rationalize what he was hearing. A niggling piece of thought gained predominance over the rest, however, and read as follows:

"Wait... did he just say Atlanteans?"