When I woke up, I could see that Steel had been true to his words; he was sitting on a chair beside my bed, watching me.

I asked him: "How long did I sleep?"

"Two hours. How do you feel?"

I tentatively moved my torso, and I was happy to notice that nothing hurt.

"I feel good. Thank you for your help. Did you stay here watching me all the time?"

He made his half-smile once again, and once again I noticed how much it suited him.

"You're easy to look at."

I was not sidetracked by his compliment, although it did strike a chord.

"That afterimage really worries you, doesn't it?"

He turned serious again. "Yes. I didn't expect it to have such a great power. It's a very dangerous entity, and it hurt both you and Sapphire, by my own hands, no less. I cannot allow that to happen again."

"How do you plan to defeat it?"

"I'm not sure yet. I need to know its weaknesses."

I couldn't help asking him: "What if it doesn't have any?"

"We all do; humans, elementals or entities. Eventually I will find them. We need to go now. Can you stand?" He asked, handing me a clean man's shirt, probably part of the security guard's change of clothes.

I jumped out of bed feeling brand new, and quickly put it on. "Of course. Let's go."

We reached Sapphire and the guard outside the room. They had talked, and Sapphire had already explained the situation to the man. He had a very hard time accepting it, but he could not deny what had just happened. I could sympathize with him: meeting a couple of time agents for the first time was always pretty mind boggling.

He informed us that his colleague was on vacation in Europe, but he didn't know where, so we couldn't really help him. We decided to search for the prosecutor instead, trying to save one more life. The security guard had to join us in our quest, of course, because if we left him alone he would become the afterimage's target again.

So we all boarded my car and headed toward the lawyer's house. He wasn't answering his phone, but we couldn't rule out the possibility that he was simply out for dinner. His cell phone was off, though, and that wasn't very encouraging.

Once again I disregarded all speed limits, and once again I aggravated Steel's car sickness, but I really didn't have any choice.

When we reached his house, we could see that it was dark inside, except for a few lights in the entryway. The not too discreet LED of an alarm system was blinking threateningly outside the main door.

I said: "We should get inside to see if he's... you know... but I don't want the alarm system to go off and wake the whole neighborhood. There are too many things we couldn't explain."

Sapphire approached the alarm system's panel and said, self-confidently: "Leave it to me."

She palmed the panel door and concentrated. Her eyes started glowing an alien shade of blue, and a deep throbbing sound filled the air around her. After a few seconds, the alarm system's light went off, and the door opened with a soft click.

I said, impressed: "Well, I must say I'm glad you're with the good guys. You would make an excellent burglar!"

She joked, smiling: "Who knows? I might make a hobby out of it!"

Shivering at the thought, I said: "I most certainly hope not!"

Then we all turned serious again and entered the house as silently as possible. We were forced to turn the lights on, hoping that the neighbours would not call the police. I was entitled to be there - well, almost, since I had no official authorization - but I couldn't possibly justify the presence of three private citizens in a potential crime scene. The fact that two of them were citizens of another planet entirely didn't help, either.

We searched the whole house, ready for the worst case scenario, but luckily we didn't find any horribly gashed corpse.

We decided to make ourselves comfortable in the lawyer's large living room and wait for him to come home, hoping that he would still be in a position to come home.

Steel said: "We will wait until dawn. If he's not back by then, we will suppose he's been killed, too."

I commented: "They should call me if they find another person stabbed to death. They know I'm in charge of this case."

We barely had the time to sit down, when we heard the sound of the door opening and someone walking in. Then a voice, asking: "Who's there?"

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and decided that, if the lawyer were to survive the killer, he wouldn't survive my lecture. If you see that your alarm system has been switched off by someone else and find your door unlocked and your lights on inside, you don't just get in and ask who's there. You run as fast as you can and call the police. This guy was asking for troubles. Little I knew he was about to find plenty. We all were.

The first thing I did when the man got in the living room and saw it populated with several unknown people, was to show my police badge and identify myself.

"Mr. Schwinn, my name is Constance Stunt, and I'm from the Marina del Rey police department. These people here are collaborating to a case you are probably involved with."

Even though he was unknowledgeable on basic safety measures, he sure knew his job, for he virtually bit my head off.

"You mean you just broke into my house without a warrant and without my permission? You even switched the alarm off, for God's sake! Do you realize that you have breached at least a dozen laws, detective?"

Not more than five, actually, but who was counting? I tried to soothe him.

"I realize that, sir, but this is an emergency situation. You see, it seems that..."

He didn't let me finish my explation and raised his voice. "This is completely unacceptable and it will cost you your rank! I will personally call your capitain and ask him to demote you. I'm also going to call the mayor and..."

He reached for the phone, but before he could pick up the receiver Steel was next to him in two long strides and grabbed his wrist. Judging by the grimace of pain on the man's face, I could tell that my friend wasn't trying to be particularly considerate.

Steel hissed: "You'd better calm down and let the detective explain the situation, or you will find that breaching your stupid rules is going to be the least of your problems."

Knowing both Steel's strength and intimidating stance, I wasn't envying the lawyer's current position.

The man just nodded, his face drained of all color and, docilely following Steel's index finger, he sat down on an armchair, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

Boy, I wished I could use Steel's help in my daily interactions with people; it would make my job so much easier.

I finally had my chance to explain the situation in a civilized manner.

"Now, Mr. Schwinn, as I was saying, we are here because it seems that a serial killer you contributed to convict a few years ago is killing all the people involved with his incarceration. He has already brutally killed three people. We managed to save this man here" - and I pointed at the security guard - "who can endorse what I'm saying. He was one of the policemen who arrested him. We weren't able to get in touch with you, so we had no choice but visit you here. As a matter of fact, we thought you were already dead and were looking for your corpse." A little evocative image never hurts with arrogant people.

The lawyer briefly shot an apprehensive look at Steel, as if asking for permission to talk. The time agent made the slightest nod, so he felt entitled to ask: "Who are you talking about, specifically? I sent several serial killers to prison."

Great. He just asked the only question I was hoping he wouldn't ask. Now my story was going to lose all credibility.

I had no choice but to answer. "Andrew Boyle."

Momentarily forgetting about Steel's threatening presence, the man shot to his feet and raised his voice again. "What? That man is dead! Listen, detective, if you think this is funny..."

Steel placed a hand on the man's shoulder and we all heard a few bones creaking. The lawyer immediately shut up and slowly sat down - collapsed, actually - on his armchair again. Some people never learn.

It was the security guard who spoke, this time: "Listen to these people, mate. They are deadly serious. I have seen this guy with my own eyes. Either he's not dead or he's a damn substantial ghost. At any rate, he sure is freaking angry."

Sapphire spoke for the first time, her eyes glowing a bright blue. "He still doesn't believe us. He thinks we are all crazy and is waiting for a chance to escape and call the police."

Well, at least that shook him, at last. He asked, flabbergasted: "How do you know what I was thinking?"

I took the chance to get some sense into his thick head.

"These people have very special, uhm, skills. They are your only hope of escaping Boyle's revenge."

His voice bore a distinct desperate note when he said: "But Boyle is dead. He can't be back."

It was Sapphire who answered him, this time: "And nobody can read minds, and yet I just did it. You see, Mr. Schwinn, the killer isn't a ghost; he's a solid afterimage."

"A what?"

"A past image of the man, momentarily living in the present."

The lawyer shook his head. "I'm sorry, madam; the more you explain, the less I understand."

Steel mumbled, disgusted: "Such a typical human behaviour; why do you always need to rationalize things you cannot comprehend?"

The man opened his mouth to answer, but Steel glared at him, and he immediatly shut it. At least he did comprehend what a rhetorical question was.

But a second later explaining the situation to the lawyer wasn't our top priority anymore, for a figure suddenly materialized in the living room. And, sure enough, that figure was brandishing a big, lethal looking knife and had the very angry face of Andrew Boyle.

I enjoyed a very brief moment of satisfaction seeing the layer's face when he recognized his unwelcome guest, but then I had to take care of more pressing matters, such as extracting my gun to shoot at the bastard.

But Sapphire stopped me in my tracks; she put a hand on my arm to make me lower my weapon, and said: "No, detective. Your bullets would only scare him away. We want to put an end to all this. Let Steel try his way first."

So I was forced to stand and watch while Boyle approached the lawyer, paralyzed by fear and disbelief, and raised his knife to take his last victim.

But he couldn't complete his move, for Steel swiftly placed himself between the killer and his target. Boyle growled with rage, and resolutely plunged his knife into the time agent's stomach.

I didn't panic, because I remembered that Steel can harden his core and actually withstand any steel blade. And, sure enough, the knife slid over his skin and just tore the shirt.

Stubbornly, the killer aimed a little higher and tried to stab Steel's heart, but once again he only managed to damage the shirt.

Dumbfounded, Boyle decided for a different approach; he just let go of the knife and grabbed Steel's arms with both his hands, clearly trying to get rid of the time agent with his touch again.

But this time something went wrong; Steel didn't collapse unconscious. He just closed his eyes and concentrated hard.

I could see on Boyle's face that he was surprised by the time agent's move and that he didn't understand what was going on. As soon as he realized that his plan wasn't going to work, he tried to let go of Steel's arms, but he soon found out that he couldn't.

His hands were glued to the operator's arms, and now they were quickly starting to cover with a thick layer of frost.

Soon his whole body was affected by the unbearable temperature drop, until it completely glazed over. He looked like an ice statue.

But I knew that Steel could not maintain that temperature for too long, and I was not willing to run the risk of Boyle just thawing and starting to wreak havoc again, without Steel being able to help anymore, so I followed my instict; I picked up his own knife and thrust it into his back with all my strength.

The effect was amazing: Boyle's frozen figure shattered in a million pieces, which were flung all over the lawyer's living room. My brain recorded the scene almost on slow motion, and I could see all the fragments hitting the other people, who closed their eyes and protected their faces. Then I felt the impact of those same fragments on my skin, but none of them was sharp enough to hurt me. It almost felt like being hit by a handful of gravel.

Suddenly the house became very quiet. We were all standing there, dumbstruck, not really knowing what to do, when Steel slowly started to collapse to the ground, shivering. Sapphire was beside him in a flash, close enough to check on him but careful not to touch him.

I felt entitled to follow his example and dropped to my knees, spent by the adrenaline surge now being processed by my system.

Sapphire was the first to speak. She asked the lawyer, who was still gasping: "I need your warmest blanket and I want you to light your fireplace."

The man was clearly still in shock, but he reacted quickly enough, and promptly did as she asked.

Soon Steel was sitting in front of a cheerfully crackling fire, wrapped in a warm, thick blanket.

His eyes were open, but I knew that he couldn't see anything.

I helped the laywer to fix a hot tea, hoping to help our blood circulate again. Soon we were all sitting in front of the fireplace, thankfully sipping the comforting hot drink.

The security guard was the first to speak, and he asked Sapphire: "Is it all over, now?"

She smiled at him reassuringly. "Yes, it's all over."

The layer asked: "How?"

"Steel dropped the afterimage's temperature to absolute zero, and the detective broke it into so many pieces, time will never be able to put him back together. You are safe, now."

The lawyer shook his head and said, softly: "I wonder if it has really happened. What will I think tomorrow?"

Sapphire's smile broadened. "Your rationality will probably process the whole incident as a dream. And I suggest you believe it. It would be much better for your mental health."

Yes, I was sure that the lawyer was the kind of person who could rationalize away any weird experience. I was more worried for the security guard; he was much more open-minded and, being a former cop, he sure had seen his share of uncanny things, although certainly nothing quite that uncanny. He would take much longer to process the experience, which would probably leave a scar in his psyche.

As far as I was concerned, I was wondering how on earth was I supposed to explain to my capitain that the case was solved without producing any tangible evidence. Well, I thought, he will probably just have to believe my word that the killer is not going to make any more victims. Time will prove me right.

Which, if you think about it, is quite ironical.

THE END