Chapter 40.

PRESIDENTIAL SUITE,

S.F. AIRPORT HILTON,

SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.

(6:00 A.M./PST)

It took the remainder of the night to set things up.

First, they had to wait for Buffy to regain consciousness as she had fainted following this latest precognitive episode. And, as she had no memory of what she had said (unlike the preceding episodes), Giles, Willow, and Xander had to update her. By the time they were done doing that, the first slivers of sunrise were beginning to show along the distant horizon, visible through the windows of the suite's eastward-facing side.

So, to help replenish all their strengths for what lie ahead, Giles called down to room service for two orders of breakfast-for-two. Plus, two extra thermo-plastic pots of coffee! And, when they had all completely fortified themselves, Giles began rummaging through one of his suitcases for the right paraphernalia.

"Alright," he finally remarked: "We're as ready as we'll ever be. Buffy? Would you be so kind as to wash down this capsule?"

She nodded, putting the aforementioned capsule between her lips before swigging liberally from a glass of orange juice. The former resembled the stereotypical hay fever-relief capsule readily available, as an over-the-counter remedy, in most any pharmacy. Yet, in this particular case, it contained freeze-dried sodium pentothal!

Consequently, Buffy soon found herself growing light-headed.

"Now, Buffy, I want you to gaze at this pretty blue crystal I'm holding before your eyes. I know you're feeling sleepy. But, you are finding yourself unable to close them because of this pretty blue crystal. It's so pretty, you literally cannot take your eyes off it! You just want to gaze into its depths. Deeper. . .and deeper. . .and deeper still. Until you see precisely what it is you're looking for. A wooden rod tipped with brass knobs. The Ferrula Geminiarum! Do you see it, Buffy?"

"Yes," she answered, haltingly: "Yes. . .I do. It's. . .aboard. . .a ship. . .at sea. A ship. . .called. . .'The Vlodnik.'"

"Precisely, where aboard, Buffy? What part of the ship is it being stored in?"

"The. . .sickbay. Along. . .side. . .the Orb. . .of. . .Thesulah. . .containing. . .Cordie's. . .essence."

Willow almost gasped out loud, at that utterance. Fortunately, though, Xander was able to think quickly enough to hand-gag her! Prompting an appreciative nod from Giles. For, while he could empathize with Willow's shocked reaction, it was still vital to maintain surrounding silence for this directed viewing.

"So, the Ferrula Geminiarum is not with 'Glordelia,' herself?"

"No. She. . .is too. . .concerned. . .about. . .intercepting. . .the plane. . .with Brother Demetrius. . .aboard."

"Because, he has the Dagon-sphere?"

"Yes. . .and no. Everyone. . .thinks. . .he has. . .the sphere. But, that. . .isn't. . .true. He's. . .partly. . .acting. . .as a. . .decoy. . .for. . .the real. . .messenger."

This time Giles almost did gasp out loud.

"Are you saying that the man currently aboard the Legacy's Learjet is coming here, empty-handed?!"

"Not. . .completely," Buffy replied: "He bears. . .two pieces. . .of vellum. . .vital. . .to. . .materializing. . .the Key. An. . .augmentation. . .spell. . .and. . .an enjoining. . .spell."

Giles decided to end the directed viewing session right there, so he could mull over what he had just learned.

"Very well, Buffy. You may close your eyes and lie back down, now."

Willow and Xander remained quiet for a few moments. Not sure whether they should start speaking again, until Giles began polishing his glasses. A tell-tale sign of nervous contemplation on his part!

"What's wrong, Giles?" asked Willow as softly as possible, in deference to Buffy.

"That last item of information," replied the seasoned Watcher: "It's very unsettling. You see, the augmentation spell can alter reality, as we know it. Especially, if cast by only one mage. For, in that instance, it makes everyone else see the spellcaster as the living embodiment of their most idealized role model! But, at a heavy price. Namely; all the spellcaster's negative attributes also coming to life. . .as a monstrous entity bent on the spellcaster's destruction! What Xander might call 'inner beast balancing outer beauty.'"

"Whoa!" exclaimed Xander: "I really have a way with words."

"What about that second spell?" asked Willow, pointedly ignoring Xander: "This enjoining. Does it somehow counteract the first one?"

"Only if recited beforehand," said Giles: "Which is the only possibility that makes sense to me. Yet, even casting _that_ spell has its drawbacks! Compared to the destruction of the world, however, the monks of St. Ioannes probably considered it the lesser of two risks."

"What time is that Learjet supposed to arrive?" Xander now asked once more serious.

Giles consulted his wrist watch.

"About a quarter to nine, this morning, our time."

"And, that Greek monk aboard it is only partly acting as a decoy," muttered Willow, repeating a salient point mentioned by Buffy: "That means, someone else is going to be delivering the Dagon-sphere. I wonder who he is. . .and where?"

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
(SEPTEMBER 14, 1940)

Dr. Philip Strange, Precept of Boston House, made the introductions.

"Sir Roger Wyndham-Pryce of the 'Defense Research Institute?' Meet Jethro Dumont; personal liaison between the Legacy and the Akashic Brotherhood."

"How do you do?" the two men asked each other in the same perfect unison as their shaking of hands.

Whereupon, they all sat down.

"I'll get right to the point," declared Sir Roger: "Have you ever crossed swords with this man?"

The Green Lama looked at a photographic blow-up of an elderly man with curly white hair, wearing both a red-hooded robe. . .and a death's-head grin.

"Not personally," he replied: "But, I've seen this likeness before. In a dossier shown me by Jimmy Holm of the U.S. Secret Service. He calls himself 'Dr. Death!' But, he was originally Rance Mandarin (Ph. D.). Former head of the Psychology Department at Yale,arch-enemy of my own alma mater, Harvard. He became involved with the Cult of Ecstasy, in India, during the Roaring Twenties. And, through them, met a Tremere-bonded Ravnos antitribu who subsequently vampirized him! After that, he became obsessed with forcing mankind back to a more primitive, and, in his opinion, more pacifistic, level of society. With himself as the benevolent despot thereof."

Sir Roger nodded his approval at the accuracy of that summary. He then added:

"We think he went to work for the Nazis in August of '39. In fact, we think he was the one responsible for the simultaneous secret police raids against Berlinhaus, Tokyo House, and Casa Roma just hours before the invasion of Poland! Now, we have reason to believe he might make a try for this. . .little trinket."

He held up the Ferrula Geminiarum.

"Officially, it's a historically valuable artifact that the London Museum is giving to the Smithsonian for safe-keeping during this so-called 'lightning war' of Hitler's. But, we'd like you to keep an extra-special eye on it, in case he tries to steal it for that lunatic's personal collection of occult talismans."

"Consider it done," the Green Lama replied.

* * * * *

TEMPLE OF THE SEARING WIND,

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

(LATE SPRING, 1999)

The two kuei-jin entered Yu Nohu's meditation chamber and kowtowed before him.

"You sent for us, sifu?"

The elderly Oriental opened his eyes and nodded.

"The goddess we serve has been tricked! I need you to head for this location in southern California, and intercept the undead gwai-lo who will be landing there, shortly."

He handed a slip of paper to the more senior of the two acolytes before continuing.

"Be warned. There will be two mortal gwai-lo with him. And, no ordinary mortals, either. They are both very powerful mages. So, you will need to bring some reinforcements with you. One of them is an old enemy of mine. . .called the Green Lama. He is the one who will be carrying what the goddess seeks! And, when you see him, you are to give him the following message."

GIANT ROCK AIRPORT,

JOSHUA TREE, CALIF.

(1 HOUR LATER)

The two figures materialized just outside the Integratron. Prompting the male half of the duo to put his right hand to his forehead.

"Whew! I'm getting too old for these ley line puddle-jumps, Magga."

The venerable Hermetic wizardess of House Shaea smiled.

"That is why we arranged for the last leg of this delivery to be made more. . .conventionally, Jethro Dumont."

She pointed to where the Harrier jumpjet of Sam Lawson was even now beginning its vertical descent. The vampiric test pilot had certainly logged a lot of air miles on this particular assignment! And, the DRI man who had told him about this additional flight had said it would be only _slightly_ shorter than the transatlantic crossing with Brother Demetrius.

"You'll head south/southwest to NAS Corpus Christi. From there, you head due west to these co-ordinates."

He handed Lawson a slip of paper, who duly memorized the latitude and longitude before returning it.

"The people you'll meet there have something you're to hand-deliver to a gentleman called Derek Rayne, in Frisco. And, that gentleman will be accompanied by another man, named Giles, and a young woman named Summers. Any questions?"

"Am I to ask for a password and counter-sign, sir?

The DRI man had grinned and nodded. And, after disclosing them both, he had asked if Lawson had any further questions.

"Sir! No, sir."

Lawson now looked over the strangely garbed duo walking towards him.

"Might as well get this over with," he muttered.

"M- - -I- - -C- - -K- - -E- - -Y," he chanted (in a slightly louder voice).

To which the Green Lama smilingly responded with:

"M- - -O- - -U- - -S- - -A!"

Lawson shook his head in half-serious self-pity.

"I guess that makes you the guy who's got something for me."

The Green Lama nodded. Reaching into the right-hand pocket of his verdant robe to remove the Dagon-sphere. Unfortunately, just as he was about to hand it over, he was interrupted by a vociferous shout from above.

"HOLD!"

This, in turn, prompted him, Lawson, and Magga to look upward at a dozen kuei-jin in black-and-red gis riding on the winged backs of monkey-like hsigos!.

"If you are the Green Lama," continued the apparent leader: ". . .we have a message for you from our sifu. We are to tell you that. . .'Doc says hello.'"

tbc

Philip Strange: a Depression-era pulp fiction aviator-hero created by author (and future pioneer UFOlogist) Donald Keyhoe, he was an ex-child prodigy whose vaudeville mentalist act had been done with real ESP! An ability that later proved handy when he served as an ace fighter-pilot and spy for the Allies in World War I.

Dr. Death: a mad scientist anti-hero created by author Harold Ward as one of the many pulp-era clones of Fu Manchu. With Federal agent Jimmy Holm as his chief nemesis.

Magga: a mysterious woman who served as a kind of messenger to the Green Lama.