The flight crew evacuated the passengers. With help, the exit doors were lifted away (they weighed over fifty pounds each) and large orange inflatable slides appeared outside the plane. The attendants rapidly gave the passengers their instructions – cross your arms, and slide down the ramp to safety.
Russell Stark knelt down towards the woozy Daria as he chatted on the cellphone. "Hess? Stark here. Someone tried to kill me on my flight today. I was rescued by three young ladies who might be in some trouble – don't roll your eyes at me, Ralph – and we need to get out of here before John Bull arrives…yes…yes…if you can swing it, that will do. Prepare the home in Salt Lake City. We'll wait for you."
Stark turned to Quinn. "And your name?"
"Quinn. Quinn Morgendorffer!"
"And this must be 'Daria'. She's – ".
"—a close friend," said Jane. Jane knew how Quinn felt about any kind of relationship, implied or otherwise, between the two.
Stark wiped some blood from Daria's nose with his finger. He ran back into the pilot's cabin and brought out a first aid kit. Opening the red plastic box, he pulled out an ammonia capsule.
"Stand back!" He turned away, breaking the capsule under Daria's nose.
Daria began coughing, rapidly and forcefully. Her eyes flickered open. "Wha…wha--?"
"Daria," said Stark, "can you sit up?"
Daria nodded affirmatively.
"Well, don't. Stay exactly as you are, eyes closed. Your 'unconsciousness' is what will save our hides. The flight crew is still trying to wrestle our cattle out of the holding pen; we shall leave last and give our escape time to arrive."
Jane interrupted. "But what about the other guy! The killer?!?"
Stark grimaced. "Good on you Jane for remembering. Let him go. We have more important things to worry about right now."
Quinn looked into the pilot's cabin. "What happened? Did…was it…did I -- ??"
"No. No, you did not. Knockout drops. Or worse."
"Then shouldn't we -- ?"
"—see to them, Quinn? We're up to our haunches in medical personnel. If they're merely unconsciousness, they'll be attended to. If not – then there's little I or anyone else can do for them."
Quinn stepped back. The thought that the two sleeping men could actually be dead made her sick.
Jane watched as the flight attendants walked toward the foursome. "Do you need some assistance?" It was flight attendant speak for "It's time for the four of you to get the hell off the plane."
"Help her to her feet!" said Stark. Jane and Quinn stood up, each taking one of Daria's arms. Daria moaned like a sick cow, milking it for all it was worth as the two pretended to prop her up. "Go together, ladies. I'll follow immediately behind."
Quinn walked down the walkway. She looked one last time at the damaged passenger coach cabin. The two windows, blown out, with a limp human form still remaining in his seat.
Is he unconscious? Quinn asked herself. Or did I…kill him…?
Jane 'hmmed' Quinn forward. Quinn figured she should think like the bald guy. If he's unconscious, he'll be helped. If he's dead, she couldn't help him. She decided to get off the plane. She didn't want to know the answer and prayed to God never to find out.
(la la LA la la)
Jane was embarrassed.
As she, Daria, and Quinn slid down the orange raft, Jane's flimsy skirt flew up! Jane quickly brought it down when she got off the slide, but Jane guessed that everyone watching got a free peek at Jane's underwear! She turned crimson red. Great going, Lane, your undies will be the opening on the 6 o'clock news! Just…damn perfect! The perfect ending to a perfect day!
Jane and Quinn let Daria rest on the wet, soggy grass. Stark slid off the slide, arms crossed, like a pro. He propped himself up to his feet as the medical attendants came to greet the group.
Before any of the surprised EMTs could open their mouths, Stark had his speech prepared. "Greetings. My name is Russell Stark. I decline any medical treatment or any medical examination, and will attest to the fact. My young friends, Jane Lane and Quinn Morgendorffer, also decline medical treatment. Our mutual friend Daria here will be treated with a private med-evac helicopter which I will take to the nearest medical facility. If you will excuse us…."
As if on cue, a cobalt blue helicopter with the words "MEDEVAC" stenciled in white on the side of the craft, landed near the site. The EMTs stood back as everyone watched the slow, careful descent of the copter kick up loose debris. As the blades slowed, five attendants exited the copter and rushed to the area, with a guerney in tow.
Fantastic work, Ralph, thought Stark. Give us ten minutes to load Miss Daria as cargo, and we shall be up, up, and away. We're really going to get away with it.
"Mister Stark?"
Stark turned.
"Agent Cuppey. Agent Mulroe." The two men opened their badges that read "F B I" in big, bold red letters. "I'm glad that we could get you and your friends together for some questioning. And trust me, we both have a lot of questions."
"Then, gentlemen, you shall have to ask them on the medevac copter. We already have three doctors waiting in critical care for my unconscious friend. If she dies due to your incompetence, we'll have you working Border Patrol."
The two black suits turned to each other. "Fine. I think there's room on that copter for two more. Your choice, Mister Stark. We come along, or you come with us."
"Fine. Come along." Stark had to think of something. A good thing he had his cellphone.
(la la LA la la)
The medevac zoomed through the air. Daria winced as the medical personnel strapped her down.
Hey wait, dammit…don't put a tourniquet on my arm., there's nothing wrong with – OW! GAD DAMMIT!! YOU MORONS!
Daria prayed she didn't broadcast that thought. The imbeciles were starting an IV on her and had hooked her up to oxygen. What kind of hell was Stark putting her through?
She looked to see if she could reach Stark's mind.
Nothing. Finally, she found a voice.
(- FBI will pick up Stark and the government boys will pick up his three companions. Underage, all of them, I bet, the old perv.-)
Government?
(-Stark will never get his way out of this one. We have the old wiley fox at last. Mr. Dynell will be very happy.-)
Daria filed the fact for future reference. The med techs were leaving her alone. She listened to the conversation.
"We're not talking just federal charges, Mister Stark. We're talking Homeland Security charges. You won't find yourself in a federal court." For Cuppey to be more serious, he'd have to be Banquo's ghost.
"Oh, a special 'Star Chamber' I assume? From this point, you'll be saying nothing to me without my lawyers present."
Stark's cellphone rang. He picked it up. "Stark here…yes…yes, I'll be arriving soon, accompanied by two of Mr. Hoover's old friends. They're dressed appropriately, no skirts, no hose, and I assure you they are not carrying purses. I'll need some legal help, and anything extra. Call Ingrid. See what can be done. Goodbye." Stark closed the channel. "We shall ride further, gentlemen. In silence."
"That's as may be. But we do have the power to place you under arrest."
"Are you arresting me? Aren't you supposed to read me my rights? Quaint American custom? Give me the decency of having my lawyer present when we land. She must be on her way. I hope."
(la la LA la la)
Jane watched outside the window. They must have been flying for twenty minutes, but no hospital was in sight. She had no idea where the hell they were supposed to be going. The silent Agent Mulroe was drilling holes through her skull with his beady little eyes. Jane knew that Mulroe was looking for some excuse to either shoot her, slap the cuffs on her, or toss her out of the helicopter. I wish I were brain-dead, like Quinn.
Stark's phone rang again. "Stark here…yes…ah! Yes." Stark smiled. "Agent Cuppey, I believe the call is for…you."
Cuppey grabbed the phone. "Agent Cuppey…yes…what? You have got to be kidding me! This can't…but…this…these are serious charges!! This is a matter of national sec--!!"
Cuppey listened to the rest of the words in silence. Jane could almost feel Cuppey's building anger as Cuppey listened in complete silence.
"Take your god-damned phone!" shouted Cuffey, in a huff. "This is not over, mister. This is not over, by a long shot!!"
(- He called an Assistant Director of the Counterterrorism Division!! He must have! My SAC sounded like he'd crapped his pants! What the hell kind of clout does this man have, anyway? There's no freaking way he could circumvent Federal law like this! This breaks every rule in the damned rulebook! -)
"That was the SAC." Mulroe turned, knowing that SAC meant 'Special Agent in Charge' of the Salt Lake City FBI Field Office. "We've been told to lay off. In no uncertain terms."
"What?" Mulroe stopped his patented Stare of Fear and Jane Lane's skull was safe again.
"Who the hell gave that order?"
"Excuse me," said Stark. "But I believe we will be landing as soon as we can find a safe place. And, as an American citizen, I shall be saying to you, 'This helicopter is private property. Do yourself a favor and sod off.'"
(la la LA la la)
Daria rubbed her arm. "I'm glad we're finally coming to a stop. I have to go to the bathroom."
"Well, my technicians loaded you up with IV fluid."
"That wasn't necessary. At all." She glared at Stark.
"Au contraire." The limousine took Stark, Daria, Jane and Quinn from the heliport to a private house all the way out to Park City, Utah. During the ride, the three had a hundred questions for Stark, who gave evasive answers and promised that everything would be answered, in good time. Sleep would have to come first, though.
It was more a mansion than a private house. The three stepped indoors. What furniture Jane could see from the entrance hall had been covered in cloths.
"We've not made it homey enough quite yet. Upstairs, my friends, you shall find your beds. Your tale of being runaways was quite interesting. We'll discuss that, but tomorrow. You need sleep and rest, and I need to make more telephone calls. So, off you go!"
The three were escorted to the expansive upstairs. A maid, her back turned, made her way down the hall in the opposite direction. "Finally!" said Daria, and opened one of the closed doors. Finding what she wanted, the door closed quickly behind her.
"Dammit, Daria! I need to freshen up!" Quinn moaned in agony, not having seen a mirror in hours.
"Will you look at this place?" said Jane.
"Kind of creepy," said Quinn.
"Kind of frigging cool" said Jane. It was her picture of what a mansion should be. Marble floors, old wood, and a smell that only came from old money.
"You don't think he's going to try to kill us, do you?"
"I think if he did, he'd be going to a whole lot of trouble. Besides," smiled Jane, "I think you could defend yourself."
"Do you think I killed that guy in the plane? I mean…do you?"
"If you did…he deserved it. You did what you had to do. I would have turned him into bacon if it was me! The bastard aimed at my head! If it bothers you, ask Mr. Know-It-All. He seems to know all the answers."
The sound of a bathroom flushing could be faintly heard. Daria opened the door. "Had to get that off my chest."
"That full, huh?" said Jane.
"Ewwwww! Gross!"
Daria looked about. "It looks like Daddy Stark is putting us to beddy-bye. I think we escaped one set of controlling parents only to find a Scotsman with a closed mouth and long arms."
"So, Daria," said Quinn, "did you read his mind?"
"I did."
"And?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I tried several times. A completely closed book. Dead air. For a few minutes I thought I was reading Quinn's mind."
"Daria, don't be so insecure!" said Quinn. "You're not worth thinking about!"
"Now I'm really creeped out," said Jane. "I think we're dealing with a whole new set of weirdness here."
"If he wanted to make a move on us, he would have. He already knows we ran away. He could have called our parents to come pick us up. He probably has Mom's number on his cellphone. But he hasn't. I don't know if I trust him. But I do know that I don't not trust him."
"Okay. Then my question is, which bed do you want?" said Jane.
"The one nearest the escape door."
"I think the escape door leads to Burns's Secret Vampire Room. So you couldn't read his mind, huh?"
"No. And I can read anybody's mind, even when I don't want to. That's the problem." Daria had been thinking about that. Maybe Stark knew how to keep his mind from being read. And if he does, then that was information that might help her. She would stay entirely for her own reasons. And when it no longer suited her to stay, she'd leave. She just didn't know how far the three of them would get the next time without a guardian angel.
(la la LA la la)
Damn itchy nightgown.
Jane woke up. She looked at the clock.
3:30 am? We've been asleep for -- ! Twelve hours? Fifteen hours? Jane had lost track of time.
She tried to get back to sleep, but it was no good. She was awake, and awake to stay. She had come off her caffeine crash and was now unfortunately awake to the world. Really, neither she nor the others had had much sleep since Daria and her sister had decided to flee Helen Morgendorffer's chicken coop.
Jane figured that the gown covered enough of her figure. It came down to mid-knee. In socks, Jane opened the room door and began to explore the old mansion.
Her explorations took her to several rooms. Daria, wake up. Are you awake? Please say something!
Nothing. Daria was unconscious. It was her all alone.
On the ground floor, Jane passed a room. She thought she heard water bubbling, a slow gurgling sound like a bathtub emptying. She decided that she'd have a look.
Opening the door, the ambient light soothed her eyes. It was some strange sort of ultraviolet spectrum. The large room was filled with huge water tanks reaching up to the vaulted ceilings. She watched bubbles fizzle from the bottom of each cylindrical tank, to the top.
Bracketing each of the tanks seem to be ornate brick mortarwork, holding each tank in place. Thick cut rectangles of glass, as wide as Jane's hand, were imbedded into each of the columns. The panes glowed with an eerie green light, blinking on and off the way a computer would.
At the center of the room, on a small desk, was a computer terminal, the size of an ordinary PC. The browser was open at the top. It read "Quest Works", and it didn't look like the Wizard standard browser.
Jane looked down at the keyboard. The keys looked…odd. Jane had an eye for textures. She ran a finger across the blank upper margin of the keyboard.
It didn't feel like plastic. It felt like some sort of ceramic, straight out of Amanda Lane's kiln. Baked clay. Formica. Or something.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Jane rapidly turned. It was Russell Stark.
"Dammit!! Don't scare me like that!!" Jane was very angry. Even in her thick nightgown, she felt very vulnerable.
"I apologize. I'm sorry." Stark seemed honestly contrite. Jane cooled down.
"What are you doing up, anyway?" asked Jane.
"I don't get much sleep." Russell Stark took a few more steps into the room. "So…what do you think of it?"
"It looks really cool. A very expensive PC?"
"Yes. You're in the only other open room of the mansion right now. Other than the bedrooms, and my office, not much else going on except for the dance of dust bunnies. This rattle-trap is one of my many far flung possessions."
"Great keyboard. But it isn't plastic."
"No, it isn't."
"And what are the water towers for?"
"Memory. You must have seen 'Rollerball'. That's where I got the idea."
"Rollerball sucked, so I didn't see it. 'Memory'? Like computer memory? Don't they use chips for that?"
"'They' use chips. I don't. This computer has no electronic parts whatsoever."
Jane took in the statement. "Okay, but if a computer uses electricity…."
"This one doesn't. It translates what it receives, but does not use electricity for its operation. No metal, either. And no plastic."
"That's impossible."
"So 'they' say."
Jane thought about a non-metal, non-plastic, non-computer chip, water storage computer. This computer violated every rational idea Jane could think of to explain it. Daria would seriously freak out if she saw this. I'm glad she's asleep….
One could almost hear Jane's mental gears turn across the empty room. She searched for a rational conclusion, but could find none. The only thing she could think was, Solid! This is one computer I couldn't possibly damage! I'm telling Trent to clean out the basement, because I intend to move this baby in! Maybe he has a laptop made out of tree trunks! Jane dreamed of a really cool screensaver.
"Uh…there wouldn't happen to be any food around here, would there?" Jane was hungry.
"Hmm. I forgot about that, actually. Make your order. And wake your friends. Tell them they can have whatever they want. I need to talk to all of you."
"You're not going to try to butter us up for something, are you?"
"I just might," said Stark, "I just might, indeed."