The Electric Diner, from the outside, looked the same as it had years earlier. The red tables and chairs where Jessica had sat many times, shielded from the elements by the big friendly yellow awning, with the glass windows offering a nice view of the inside. After Jess's recent life of constant change, to see something that looked so familiar and close to what she remembered was a shock in itselt. Its familiarity even made it seem almost alien.

Jessica was staring so hard she jumped when Hector nudged her. "Well are you gonna stand here and stare at it all day, or do you want to go in?"

He didn't need to ask twice. Jess stepped up to the door and grabbed the handle. Were her hands actually shaking? They were! Geez. She yanked the door opened and walked inside before Hector could ask her if she needed any help, or some other brotherly jibe.

She felt Shock running into her with his hug before she even saw him. She smiled, despite her struggle to breathe- she always forgot how much stronger Shock was than he looked. She looked up into his face, and all she could think to say was "Hi."

Fortunately, that seemed to be all Shock needed to here. He pulled back and smiled at her. "Hi."

Jessica felt her eyes going a little moist; she'd wondered how long it would be. "Shock, I just… I can't tell you how much I've missed you, and this place."

Shock shrugged a little. "Probably about as much as we missed you." Then he hugged her again.

When it was done, he gestured toward a nearby table. "Sit down, you must be exhausted." Amidst the bubbling chatter of the diner's many other residents, Jessica and Hector sat down as Shock stood by. Jessica sighed and looked up at him. "So, how have you been, Shock? How are you?"

"I've been good, Jess, really good. Busy, definitely."

She looked around. "Seems like it!" The place was packed.

A tall bearded guy walked up and tapped Shock on the shoulder. "Hey, can we get some refills of the Blue Spring smoothie stuff?"

"You bet, just give me one minute." Shock gestured over to the counter as the guy left. "I better get back in the kitchen."

Hector started to stand up. "You need some help?"

"No, Hector, it's been three years, you need to be with your sister. I got everything. When it slows down, I'll bring out a couple of smoothies."

"On me," Hector added. "Thanks, buddy."

Shock smile and nodded at Jess. "Welcome home." Then he turned and hurried back to the kitchen.

"So glad to see him again," Jessica said as she watched him disappear into the kitchen. Then she remembered, and turned to Hector. "You don't need to pay for my drink, I have plenty of money!"

Hector shrugged. "Sorry. Executive power. I co-own this restaurant, and I will not accept your money."

Jess growled in faux-annoyance. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly good-looking," he shot back immediately.

Jessica cracked up and buried her face in her arms. He was so annoying when he was hilarious.

Picking her head up, she looked around. It was basically the same as when she'd last laid eyes on it. Sure, there were a few more tables than there used to be, and there were a few new decorations here and there, but the walls were still that cool shade of red, and still decked with pictures and fun little odds and ends. A few changes, but familiar enough for her.

She pointed further down the opposite wall. "That TV's new, isn't it?"

Hector glanced back at the monitor that was sticking out from the wall, playing commercials with captions on the bottom of the screen. "Oh, yeah, we got that put in a little while ago, thought that it might be a good idea to have something playing the news for everyone, what with recent events."

"That makes sense."

Jessica sat and thought for a moment. "Y'know, it's the weirdest thing, while I was gone and missing everybody, I started kinda missing the Pranksters too. Can you believe, I got nostalgic for all the trouble they caused.

Hector chuckled too. "Well, they've been behaving themselves pretty well for a while."

"Oh have they? What'd you do?"

"Nothing, actually, I guess they just kinda got bored with it all and decided to finally give growing up a try."

Jess shook her head. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Me neither. Let's see, Annie and Danny are married-"

"They are? Aw, that's nice." While they had still been Pranksters, Annie and Danny, by themselves, had mellowed out well, and could even be pretty nice sometimes. Jessica was happy that they were happy.

"Yup, they even invited us to the wedding. They both do a lot of acting now, I've seen some of their plays. But I think Annie's fashion design is also finally starting to get somewhere, if I heard right."

"Well, I'm sure it's like nothing else in the market."

"And Manny's finally moved out from his mother's house."

Jess smirked. "What's he doing now, sumo wrestling?"

"Aw, c'mon, he's actually kinda buffed up the past few times I've seen him."

Jessica found that rather hard to picture.

"Anyway, I don't really know what he's doing now, it seems like every time I hear about him he has a new job."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"I'll tell you this, though: every time I see him someplace, he always stops me so he can tell me how great he's doing with his gadgets and how lots of big important people are privately buying his inventions."

"Like who?"

"He won't say. Apparently, it's all very non-disclosable."

Jess rolled her eyes. "Of course it is. Hmm, what about Gilda?"

"Dooley, just like Lisa. Tech department."

"That's good. She seemed so bright and nice, it was a shame she was always hanging around Francine."

As Hector agreed, Jess saw something on the TV over his shoulder. It was a commercial, showing a bunch of kids in a living room being enthralled by a stuffed bear that was talking and dancing around. The word Buddy! Buddy! Buddy! kept obnoxiously splashing all over the screen in neon colors.

Jessica groaned in disbelief. "Oh, no, no, no, don't tell me that thing caught on!"

"Huh?" Hector looked behind him and the TV, then he grinned. "Oh, yes, Buddy the Funbear has really gotten a boost in popularity recently. All the kids are into it. Best-seller."

Jess sighed. "The most obnoxious thing on the face of the planet, and all the kids are into it. What's wrong with the youth these days?"

Hector pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Hey, like you're one to talk. Those little Gabby Gabby doll things would never shut up, remember?"

Jessica held up her hands indignantly. "Okay, one, they were Gabby Gabriella dolls, and two, I was like six, I grew out of it."

They both laughed. And then they talked some more, about little things, unimportant things, things like what closed down, what opened up, who was doing what now, who moved away. A thousand little things that were totally pointless to talk about but, right now, seemed like the most important things in the world.

Over on the wall, the television had returned to the news. Jessica caught some things but didn't really pay much attention. There seemed to be some reports and discussion of communication issues: organizations proposing to inspect various media for anti-Earthling sentiment from hostile aliens, companies accused of monitoring private chats, campaigns for stricter censorship. It seemed to be pretty depressing stuff, but right now it all seemed trivial compared to her brother telling her all about how Art's hot dog stand was now branching out into chili dogs.

Then she saw it. She hadn't been really looking at the TV at first, listening to Hector speaking, but what was on the screen caught her eye. She pointed and interrupted Hector. "Is that Dax?"

Hector turned around to look. He cringed. "Oh, yeah. Man, I forgot to tell you…"

On the screen, there was footage of one of their Skeleckian friends being escorted out of… was that a prison yard? Was Dax coming out of a prison?

Not believing what she was seeing, she strained to heart the voices on the TV over the buzz of the customers, and read the subtitles at the bottom; the words of both seemed equally surreal.

Over footage of Dax being taken out of the prison, the news announcer was saying "The Skeleckian, named Daxter Blooperment, is being officially released after having been taken into police custody two weeks ago after an alleged attack on three college students walking through Central Park. Sources indicate that Blooperment never changed his claim of innocence for the duration of his custody. Neither Blooperment nor the New York police department have made any public statements on the issue as of yet."

The footage changed, and the announcer went on to another topic, but Jessica was still staring at the screen in horror. She looked back at Hector. "Dax was arrested?"

He nodded, grimacing. "Those college students said he came at one of them with a knife. He says that they just started heckling him and pushing him around, then started yelling when he pushed back. He said they seemed drunk."

"He didn't really have a knife, did he?"

"No. They said that he threw it into the grass when they started yelling."

"I can't imagine Dax even pushing anyone… they must have been being awful to him."

"From what he said, yeah."

"But then there couldn't have been evidence, right? He didn't have the knife, and they were drunk! That couldn't have been enough to arrest him, or at least to keep him that long!"

"That's what we all thought. But," Hector shrugged in bleak resignation "they held him anyway."

"Why?!" Jessica burst out. As soon as she asked it, she knew the answer, and replied to herself "Because he's a Skeleckian."

Hector nodded grimly.

Jess looked away, towards the windows showing the street outside, but not seeing them. Sweet, loveable, nervous Dax, being arrested and imprisoned, just for trying to defend himself. She clenched her fists. Imagining how scary and humiliating the whole thing must have been for him actually made her eyes feel hot with angry moisture.

Hector saw her clenched hands. "Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," he said, reach over the table to hug her. Normally such a way of hugging would have felt very awkward, but now it was so needed that it felt good. Hector whispered "It's alright, Dax is gonna be okay, it's all gonna work out," in his best reassuring-big-brother voice, before pulling away again. Jess blinked and steadied herself. She looked back at Hector. "We have to do something, Hector. Stuff like this… it can't happen."

Hector nodded. "Agreed. And we will. But right now, all you need to do is get home and rest."

"But-"

"No buts, Jessica, I'm serious. You have been through so much, emotionally and physically, up to now that I'm worried you'll just collapse any minute. We're going back to my place and you're going to take it easy. We'll figure everything out after you've had some time to recharge."

Jessica wanted to argue, but as Hector spoke she realized that she was exhausted. Her worries about Dax, about Keith, even the residual instinctive thrill at being back in New York, were becoming duller and duller as an aching tiredness in crept over her body and her brain. She sighed and nodded. "Okay."

Hector stood up, and she did the same. She followed him back to the door to the kitchen, where they went through and saw Shock and a couple of assistants busying with the food and drinks. When Shock looked up and saw them, Hector said "Me and Jess are going back to my place, we'll catch up with you later. Thanks for taking care of things, man, I'm really grateful." Shock smiled. "My pleasure, Hector. Jess, I'm really glad to see you. Talk to you later." Jessica smiled back. "Thank you, Shock. I'm just as glad to see you."

She and Hector left the kitchen.

After they left, one of Shock's assistant's said "I'm just working here so I can scrape up enough for my art degree, I didn't sign up for lovey-dovey gooey best-friendship central."

The other guy told him to be quiet and make some more Blue Spring smoothies.

That evening, Jessica lay, looking upwards, in Hector's bed. By the time they had gotten back to his apartment, she had been so exhausted that she hadn't even put up much of a fight when Hector insisted in giving her his bed. She had just gotten there and then gone right to unconsciousness. Now, after waking, she stared up at the smooth whiteness of Hector's ceiling. Her mind felt like a swirling, chaotic cauldron of thoughts and feelings, and she was avoiding focusing on any one of them.

Light came into the bedroom as the door opened, and she rolled over to see Hector poking his head inside. "Hey. Did I wake you?"

"No, you're cool."

We walked in, carrying a plate. "I got some pizza. You hungry?"

She thought for a second, then nodded and sat up.

Hector came and sat down next to her. As she took a slice and bit into it, Hector said "Mom and Dad called while you were asleep."

She winced. "I missed them again?"

"They said they didn't want me to wake you, just tell you that they called."

Jessica contemplated a piece of pepperoni with a little moodiness before peeling it off and eating it. "Thanks. I'll call them here in a minute."

Then, she added "Hector, we need to fix things."

He nodded and sighed. "Yes, we do. And we will."

Jessica put down her pizza and leaned over to wrap her arms around her brother. "But don't think I'm not glad to be home, because I am. You have no idea how glad."

Hector ruffled her hair. "Probably almost as glad as I am for you to be home."

She smiled.

After a moment, Hector gently pulled away. "Hey, hey, you got pizza grease on my shirt."

Jess leaned back and laughed. "You're a real princess, you know that?"

"This shirt was expensive! If the stains don't come out, you're replacing it."

"What are you talking about, you kook, you can't even see any stains!"

"Doesn't mean they're not there, sis. The lighting in here isn't too good, I notice."

And then they debated back and forth a little more about stains and shirts and pizza, and for that time the world was achingly, impossibly perfect.

Somewhere else, far away but still in New York City, Keith got out of his car and walked along the front of the motel, hands in his pockets as he passed the muffled lights from curtained windows. He smiled politely at a lady smoking by her car, and at a nearby Tezpukian fish-man, but he didn't feel especially like smiling. He felt tired. When he got to his door, he scanned his keycard and went in.

The motel room was small, not the shabbiest place Keith had ever stayed at, but not the best either. It only had one bed, because the ones with two beds cost more. Next to the bed was Keith's trusty sleeping bag. At the table on the other side of the room sat Leo Watson, his face lit in the harsh light of the old, beat-up laptop he was intently staring at. He looked up when he heard the door.

"Oh, Keith! How was it, buddy?"

Keith took off his coat and hung it over a chair "It was good. Did a lot of sweeping. My arms are majorly sore." He chuckled and sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Well, I'm proud of you. It amazes me how fast you're able to get all these jobs. You just, I don't know, naturally win people over."

"Thanks, Dad." Keith yawned. "What have you been doing?"

Leo waved at the computer in his lap. "Oh, just looking up some old acquaintances around here. Thought I'd find some to drop in and chat with."

"Okay." Keith nodded. Then he looked at Leo. "Did she talk about them a lot?"

Leo was looking back down at the laptop now. "She, uh, mentioned them a few times. I think she kept in touch with them."

Keith nodded and sighed. "Yeah, he muttered, "just like the Mrs. Joneston."

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

There was silence. Finally, Keith stood up, took a deep breath, and said "Dad… what if they don't know where she might be? What if they don't help at all?"

Leo looked up at Keith and blinked. "Uh, well, there's a few other people that I thought might be worth looking into, not too far from here."

"And what if they don't know?"

Leo looked taken aback. "Keith, what are you saying?"

Keith took another breath, and steeled himself to continue. "Dad, what I'm saying is that Mrs. Joneston didn't know anything about where she is. And neither did the Chengs. And neither did Mr. Paolini. And neither did anybody that we asked in the Bronx."

Leo grimaced. "Keith, I know, but… she's lived in this city her whole life. She loves it here. I can't believe that she would leave it."

"Just like you wouldn't have believed that she would leave us?"

Leo looked like Keith had just smacked him across the face. Keith grimaced, and half of him regretted saying that, but the other half didn't. The truth needed facing.

"Look, Dad, I get it. I do. You think that if you can talk to her, you can get her back to the woman you married, and she'll come back, and everything will return to the way it was." He tried to ignore the wet stinging now in his eyes. "She made her choice, and all she left was a good-bye note. She didn't even care enough to tell you herself. We need to be honest with ourselves, Dad, she's probably not still in the city, and even if she is, she's had years to change her mind. Whatever she's doing, she doesn't want us to be a part of it."

He couldn't stand looking at his dad's face anymore, so he looked down at the floor and said "I moved on, Dad. And for a while, I thought you had too."

"I… I… I never… she seemed so happy with us…" Leo now sounded as if he was pleading for an answer Keith couldn't give him.

What Keith said next was even harder, but it had to be spoken. "You were strong. You were strong, so I was too. But then, when it was like we were both good, all of…" he gestured aimlessly around the little motel room "…this happened." He began to pace, partly to keep up his resolve and partly so that he could still avoid looking at the hurt in his father's eyes. "I was excited when you left the diner and we went to stay with [relatives]. I believed you. I thought that we'd find her, and she would say it was all a mistake, and want us be a family again."

He paced faster. "And when nobody down there knew where she was, we found that place near Chinatown. And every day I'd walk up and down the streets, and every day I'd think, Mom loves Chinatown. She can't stay away for long. She's gotta be here sometime, and we'll just keep watching until she is. I believed that with everything I had, Dad. But I never saw her. I walked through Chinatown every day, and I never saw her. That's when I started to see the truth, Dad. We were both kidding ourselves."

Leo was crying fully now, and the site tore at Keith's heart. But he had to go on.

"I'm sorry, Dad, but it's a wild goose chase. Always has been. All the moving, all the jobs, all the searching. It's… it's pointless. I'm sorry."

"Don't say that, Keith…"

Keith knew that he should stop, that he had said more than enough, but what came out of him was "I just wanna know why, Dad. I'd faced the facts. You'd faced the facts. Why did you put yourself back in a fantasy world?"

Now he stopped. He felt dirty. He could see by the look on his dad's face that he'd broken his father's heart. Everything he said was the truth, but how head said it was appalling.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have… let's just go to bed." He grabbed some clothes from his backpack and went to change in the bathroom.

When he got out, he saw that his dad was already in bed, covered up by the blanket. "Dad?" asked Keith. Dad didn't move or answer. He was either already asleep, or pretending to be. It wouldn't have surprised Keith if he really was genuinely asleep. He ran himself ragged these days with all this searching.

Sighing, and thinking about how much of a jerk he was, Keith turned out the light and got into his sleeping bag. Hopefully things would be better tomorrow. For his dad's sake.

Igna opened her eyes. It was dark, as if she hadn't opened her eyes at all. She shut and opened them again. Still dark. Open or closed, it didn't matter. She began to panic, and the sudden horrible thought struck her that she had somehow gone blind. Then she realized that there was something pressed against the skin of her face. Something rough, but cloth-like. It smelled. As the feeling came back to the rest of her body, she realized also that she was sitting in a chair, and her hands and feet were tied together. And her face… there was a bag over her face.

Suddenly she heard muffled voices.

"I think she's awake."

"Of course she's awake, you idiot, her head is moving! Don't you have eyes? Don't you have a brain to think with?"

Igna took a deep breath and tried to think back. Her head was swimming. Where had she been before this? She knew that she had stayed late at the office… she had sent her assistants home… she had finished going over the proposal forms… she had gone out to the parking lot… and… and…

It all came flooding back, like being reminded of a nightmare from when you were a child. She had been out in the parking lot, by herself. The city lights and the honking traffic had been all around her but had seemed so far away as she walked through the night toward her car, the only one in the lot by then. She had taken out her keys, unlocked the car, had reached it and was just about to get in… when she heard something. A steady clanking sound, like knights marching in armor. She heard it from behind her, getting louder and louder.

She had turned. She had screamed. There were two… things coming for her, marching in step with that horrible clanking noise. They were skeletal and black, with round red glowing eyes. She had fumbled around with her hand, trying in her panic to find the handle of her car door, when the things reached out for her with sharp claws on dark bony arms…

…and after that, everything went dark.

And now she was here. Wherever here was.

"I'm going to take the sack off, and get started."

"Fine by me, old man."

A hand pressed against Igna's head, and then the bag was sliding up off her face. She gasped in a desperate gulp of breath, and opened her eyes.

The dim light made it hard to make out much of the room she was sitting in, but she could tell that it wasn't very big. It seemed like some sort of large supply closet or back room. She looked up. A few feet above her head was a bare lightbulb, buzzing and flickering, the only thing illuminating the place.

She started to try and look over her shoulder when out from behind her appeared a figure, his sudden closeness causing her to scream. "Sorry, I'm sorry," the man said desperately, holding up his hands in a panicky defensiveness. Igna was so taken aback by how frightened he seemed to be of her that she stopped screaming and just stared at him. He was old, in a striped shirt that seemed just a little too big for him, with a bowtie.

"I really am sorry, Ms. Quigly, I don't, I don't want to do this. I just got my own to worry about, you see?"

Igna gaped. "S-Sorry… what? What's going on here!?" Then she squinted.

"Wait, wait, I know you…" She had seen this man before, around the neighborhood. What was his name? It was right on the tip of her tongue. Then it came to her. "You're Sigmund Scrambler, aren't you?"

The man looked even guiltier when she said his name. "Yes, Ms. Quigly, but it doesn't matter, in a few minutes you'll be back home safe, and this will all be like a bad dream, everything will be fine-"

Another voice, from her other side. "Get on with it, old man, we don't have all night! You know how the boss likes these things to be as quick as possible."

Igna turned her head to see the source of the voice, and when she saw it, the reality around her seemed to spinning out of control again.

Standing there looking up at her was a Buddy the Funbear toy, its shiny black eyes focused on her. It opened its robotic little mouth and said "What are you looking at, meat? Never seen a bear before?"

Then it held up one paw. As Igna watched in numb, listless shock, the paw opened up and out of it grew a nasty-looking little drill, which started to whirr. Buddy said "I wouldn't try anything funny, meat, or you'll be out of here with a little less skin than you came in with. Just sit back and let the nice old man do his business." He looked past her, back to Sigmund. "What are you waiting for?"

"Right, right," Sigmund said as he dug through his suit pockets and pulled out a golden, old-fashioned pocket watch. He held it up in front of Igna's face and started to swing it back and forth, back and forth. When he started to speak again, his voice was much lower and softer, taking on a calming, reassuring tone.

"Just look at me, Ms. Quigly, look at me, It's okay, it's okay, just a minute and you'll be nice and happy again…"

As the watch continued to swing, Igna's breath slowed, and her struggling arms went limp. She found herself growing calmer and calmer, being more and more content to just follow the swinging watch with her eyes. She almost forgot about the other two entities in the room with her altogether.

When she heard Sigmund Scrambler speak again, his voice seemed to be coming from deep underwater, or maybe from a fading dream.

"When you wake up, you're not going to remember any of your suspicions… you won't remember any of your worries or evidence about conspiracies, or cover-ups, or corruption, or lies in this city. You'll wake up and you'll drive home and you'll think nothing is wrong.

Nothing is wrong.

Nothing is wrong.

Now

Sleep."

Igna blinked. What had she been thinking about? She couldn't remember. She had walked to her car, and stopped… but she couldn't remember what she had thought of next. Oh well. If it was important, it would come to her sometime.

She opened her car door and retreated from the cold darkness of the night into the comforting safety of light and pine tree scent. She started the car, drove out of the parking lot, and headed towards home. She still had a nagging feeling that she was forgetting something, something worrying, but when nothing came to mind she shrugged it off and turned on some classical music.

And, soon, the feeling went away altogether.

Antigone Carruthers sat in her robe, glass of wine in hand, in the midst of her mansion. As she kept an eye on her phone, expecting it to ring, she sipped. This was one of the few times in her mayorship that she was alone, but she didn't like it. the place was too quiet. Two people used to live in this mansion, and hopefully, sometime soon, there would be two again, but now there was only one. Antigone sniffled, then shook her head, as if shaking off drowsiness. This was no time to sorrow. She had a duty to fulfill before the night was over.

The phone rang, just as she had anticipated. Antigone answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, you're mayorship, it's Joe. Just calling to check in and say that the Ruiz sibs haven't left the apartment, and I doubt they will until tomorrow." There was an obnoxious chewing sound, then a loud gulp. "Ahh, nothing cleanses a guy's soul like the consumption of nachos. Perfect stakeout food."

Antigone sighed. "Joe, concentrate. Is there any chance that they know you're watching them?"

"Ogh coh ow."

"What?"

Joe swallowed his mouthful. "Of course not. You're talking to the best here. That's why Sed-"

"Don't! Don't say his name. We never know for sure if our lines are bugged."

"Sorry, sorry. That's why, ahem, the boss hired me. They'll never suspect a thing."

"If you say so. Fine, then, keep watching."

"Over and out, your mayorship."

Antigone hung up. Joe was the last of the spies that she had had taken reports from. Now, all she needed to do was take the final call she was to receive that evening, and then she would be ready to make a report of her own.

Soon enough, the phone rang again. This time, it was the voice of Sigmund Scrambler on the other end. "Hello, M-Madame Mayor. I was just calling to say that Buddy and I were able to hypnotize Miss Quigly. She's not a problem anymore. You can tell-" He gulped. "-you-know-who that the whole thing went off without a hitch."

"Good." Antigone's voice softened. "Thank you, Sigmund. Are you alright?"

"Yes, Madame Mayor. It just… doesn't feel right." He paused. "All of this."

"I know, Sigmund, I know. But we have no choice. Be careful. Goodbye."

After hanging up again, Antigone gulped down the last of her wine, for some extra courage, and then dialed.

A quiet voice on the other end. "Good evening, Antigone. I trust you're ready to fill me in on current events?"

Antigone told him about all the news, from the reports on the Ruiz siblings to Sigmund and Buddy's latest hypnotism job.

"And everything went alright?" the voice probed. "Ms. Quigly showed no signs of remembering?"

Antigone nodded instinctively, although she was only talking over the phone. "Yes, that's what Sigmund said."

"Good, good." The voice paused thoughtfully. "Although, Antigone dear, I am a little troubled by the need for another memory-wiping so soon. It is supposed to be a last resort, you know."

"I know, sir."

The voice tutted. "The whole point of operating in such secrecy, after all, is so that we won't need to use memory wipes too often. Because, as I'm sure you know, it isn't a perfect process, and the more people we do it too, the more likely it becomes that something will go wrong."

As cowed and intimidated as she was by the speaker on the other end of the line, by Sed, Antigone had to bite back some anger. People assuming that she didn't know what she was doing, no matter who they were, no matter what power they held over her, always got under her skin in the worst way. It had when she was poor, and it still did now.

"I know, sir, but I am doing my best. This whole thing is so complicated, even without the secrecy. Some things are always going to slip."

"Of course, Antigone, but do they need to slip this often? Hmm?"

Now it was becoming really hard to keep the anger out of her voice. "We're doing the best we can. Politics is an unpredictable thing. And if you-"

"YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW HOW POLITICS ARE, YOU IDIOTIC OLD WOMAN!?" Suddenly the voice was screaming in her ear. "YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE!?"

Antigone's anger melted into fear. "Sir, I didn't-"

"DO YOU THINK I ESCAPED FROM A STINKING PRISON ASTEROID, WORKED MY WAY ACROSS THREE ENTIRE GALAXIES, AND TRAMPED TO THIS FILTHY, BACKWATER PLANET, JUST TO SIT HERE AND LISTEN TO YOU TELL ME THAT I DON'T KNOW ABOUT POLITICS?"

"Please-"

"I WAS THE PRESIDENT OF AN ENTIRE PLANET! A PLANET TWICE AS BIG AS THIS UGLY CESSPIT YOU COARSE APES CALL A WORLD! SO YOU DON'T TELL ME THAT I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT TAKES TO RUN A MEASLY LITTLE CITY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Antigone was close to tears now. She had made Sed angry, and she couldn't let him stay angry with her, not with everything at stake. "I'm sorry sir, please, I didn't mean it, I shouldn't have, I'm sorry…" she pleaded like a child.

And now, just as quickly as he had turned from calm and soft to raging and screaming, Sed was back to calm. "It's alright, Antigone dear, you're forgiven. A mere slip of the tongue, I understand. I've seen enough people in stressful circumstances to know that these things happen. No need to worry anymore about it."

Antigone took a shuddering breath and said "You won't… punish Francine for what I said, will you?"

"Of course not," Sed soothed, the gentleness in his voice so eerie after his raging a moment ago. "It was an honest slip of the tongue. Water under the bridge." He paused. "And it won't happen again, will it?"

"No, sir."

"Alrighty, then. So long as we've caught each other up, and we understand each other, I think our little chat is over for the night."

Then Antigone, being brave for her daughter, said "With all due respect, sir, you said that the next time we spoke, you'd give me some more proof that Francine is alright."

"Did I? Oh, that's right. I guess I did. Well, don't you worry, madame mayor, you'll have a nice little digital postcard from your sweet girl tomorrow, and we'll all have peace of mind. Anything else to say?"

"No. Thank you."

"Thank you, Antigone dear. Goodbye."

The communicator went silent.

Antigone pulled herself together, got up, and went to her room.

She changed, climbed into bed, and hugged Arnold. Arnold had been Francine's favorite childhood stuffed moose, and Antigone squeezed him as tight as she could.

She fell asleep, dreaming of when she would be holding her daughter again.

The dim underground space had used to be just the basement of an old apartment building, but now it was more of a secret base of operations. On the wall were several monitors, each broadcasting different areas of the distant satellite called Prankster Planet. There was a sleeping bag, a treadmill, a microwave, a mini refrigerator, and a television. In the corner was a large, glass rectangular box, like a phone booth. In actuality, it was an old, primitive transmat teleportation beam.

Gilda Flip sat in a worn, torn leather chair, which happened have been liberated from a pile of similar moth-eaten things in the nearby garbage dump. On her knees was a laptop. In front of her was the television, and to her right were the monitors on the wall. Her eyes alternated between each. Those eyes were quick and busy, but also rimmed with dark circles. Her glasses were pushed up on her forehead.

Today in particular she just felt antsy, and just couldn't seem to focus on the Mandarin she was teaching herself, so every couple minutes she would look up from the lesson on her laptop to consume whatever bright little cartoon was playing on the TV. And, of course, she would routinely look over at the monitors. She glanced over at them again now.

She saw, on one screen, that Francine was still busy trying to play some sort of game with a couple of the few robots that were still in operation. That was good. If Francine had to be stuck on Prankster Planet, at least she was making the best of it. The first few days, all Francine had done was cry and sulk and throw screaming fits. That had torn Gilda's heart apart to watch. Even now, seeing Francine up there, all alone, able to talk to nobody but the robots, was difficult. Gilda wished that she could communicate with Francine, but Sed had told her that just transmitting the video footage was a risk, and doubling that with an audio channel was simply too much.

Gilda glanced over to the transmat in the corner. It would be so easy to go over and press a few buttons on the control panel, so easy to activate the corresponding transmat on Prankster Planet. Francine would see it, and run to it, and then she would be back on Earth, just like that. Back home.

But Gilda couldn't. If she brought Francine back to Earth now, she doubted that she could stop Francine from leaving this room and going back out into the city. And no matter how much Gilda would warn her about the danger, Francine wouldn't listen. Gilda was quite sure of that.

All these thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door that opened out to the stairs that went up to the street. Gilda pulled down her glasses, jumped up and went over to the peephole. On the other side of the door she saw a familiar pale, rippling face.

She hurriedly opened the door, and let Sed in. With his formal Earthling clothes, Sed would have passed for any normal business human of New York, except for his being a Curtanzil, which you didn't see very many of even in the alien-heavy sections of town.

"Oh, Sed! I'm glad to see you. It's been… lonely." She stopped, and turned red. She shouldn't be displaying such distress. She had been given a mission, and it wasn't even difficult. All she had to do was spend most of her time in this room, with occasional trips outside for supplies. She had promised Sed that she could do this, for Francine. In fact, what Sed was doing on the outside was much more dangerous. And here Gilda was, complaining like a child.

But Sed nodded. "Oh, Gilda, I know. When you have to stay in one place all the time, it can do things to your mind."

Just for a moment, his face darkened. "Believe me, I do know."

But just like that it was gone, and Sed was back to the warm, friendly self that Gilda had come to know over the past few months. He looked over at the monitors. "How is she doing?"

Gilda looked too. "She's recently started doing more energetic things, getting more exercise. Even her mood seems a little bit better." She kept her tone clinical, observatory, scientific. Anything besides emotional.

Sed nodded. "Well, that's something, at least. Poor Francine."

Gilda sighed, unable to hide her feelings completely. "I don't suppose you're here to tell me that the terrorists have all been found and arrested, and that it's safe for Francine to come back to Earth now?"

Sed gave a sad little chuckle. "Oh, I wish, Gilda. I wish. But no, I still don't have enough specifics to give the authorities. I believe I'm getting close, but I need more time."

Gilda looked back at Francine on the monitor. "I feel so bad," she said in a small voice.

Sed put his hand on her shoulder. "I know. I know." His voice was soft and fatherly. "But this is really the only way to keep her safe. So long as she stays up there, and you keep an eye on her, the insurgents will never find her."

"I hope so." Gilda sniffled a little. "A long time ago, I promised myself that I would never let her down. No matter what."

"And you won't, Gilda dear, I know you won't. I don't think I can even fully imagine just how lucky Francine is to have a friend like you."

Gilda's eyes were moist, now. "Thank you, Sed."

Sed, his voice still tender, asked "Have you seen your parents lately?"

"I… I saw my mother getting on the subway station the other day, when I was coming back from grocery shopping."

"I'll bet it was very hard, not talking to her or letting her see you."

Gilda put on her bravest face. "It wasn't that bad. I've come to terms with it. I just rehearse everything I want to tell her, when all this is over and I can talk to people again."

Sed thought for a moment. "And what about your father? I don't think I've ever heard you mention him."

"Oh, well. He sort of… he left us, a long time ago. I was just a small child."

"Oh, my…" Sed put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Gilda, I didn't know."

"It's alright. It was a long time ago. I've gotten over it. But it's funny. Not long after he left, I met Francine. And it was almost like…"

She paused, worrying that her next thought would sound foolish, before continuing "like my dad had been taken away, so I was being given a big sister as compensation." She winced. It did sound silly, spoken out loud like that.

But Sed didn't seem to think it was. "Well, it was a good thing for her that you were her friend. I don't know how I would have kept her safe in hiding, without you." He looked her in the eyes. "You're a very brave, smart, and incredible young woman, Miss Flip."

"Thank you Sed," said Gilda, and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm a mess."

Sed pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gave it to her. "You don't have to hold anything back, Gilda dear. It's perfectly reasonable to cry in circumstances like this."

Gilda gave the handkerchief back and said "Thank you, Sed. I couldn't do this without you."

Sed smiled. "Nor I without you."

Now having reasonably regained her composure, Gilda asked "Was there something you needed, Sed? Any news or changes?"

"Oh, no, I just came to check up on the both of you and make sure you were alright."

"Can I offer you something? Something to drink?"

"Oh no, thank you. I can't stay for too long anyway. But Gilda, if you ever need anything, anything at all, just get in touch with me. I'm the one who got you into this, so I'm here to do everything I can for you."

Gilda smiled. "I will, Sed. And don't worry about you getting me into this. I would do anything to keep Francine safe."

"I have no doubt." Sed put his arms around Gilda in a brief hug, before turning and heading towards the door. He opened it, looked back at Gilda, smiled and nodded, and then left, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Gilda, now alone again, sniffled back some residual from her earlier tears, but with a smile on her face. Check-ins from Sed reminded her of just why she was doing all this, and made her feel better. Less alone. If she had to watch her practically-adopted-older-sister and not be able to talk to her, she could at least talk to the kind old alien.

Once he had exited the apartment basement and hurried up the stairs and onto the street, Sed made sure that no one looked as if they were watching him. He looked down at his phone, and looked through the pictures he had taken while Gilda wasn't looking. Pictures of Francine on the screens, walking and running and talking to the robots. Proof of Francine's health, for her precious mother.

Satisfied that he'd gotten what he'd come for, Sed went on his way down the street. Gilda Flip, he thought, was quite an exceptional young Earthling woman. Vastly intelligent. Extremely kind. And, crucially, naïve.