Interlude

Sam (who, as you'll recall, was not really named Sam) stood before the screens once more. He was garbed in a golden-red color, hard and fiery.

Sarah stood to his right, and a half-step behind. She was in deepest black, fleck of silver in ornament.

"They begin to move," Sam commented. The party was long over.

"And you're sure about them." It was not a question, more of a statement.

It was still too much of a question for Sam's taste. He'd had doubts about the plan before, but had talked to Bob at the celebration, and had doubts no longer. And he had no doubts about the ones he had chosen. The plan was in service to the Purpose. To doubt the one, then, was to doubt the other. "I am sure," Sam said, firmly, to cut off any debate.

Sarah gave it to him, anyway. He couldn't really be angry with her. It was her way. "This one is brave, to be sure. But tied to his toys." She made a face. "And that provides them --" She made a gesture, which made it clear who "they" were. "-- with a great deal of influence."

Sam shook his head. He ought not even debate it, but what was he to do, cut her down? That would would be even worse, wouldn't it? "He was a soldier to the Purpose long before they got their hooks into him. When his toys fail, he'll know what to do."

Sarah gestured at the other, fingers of ebon touching the screen. "She's going to give us trouble. Her anger is tremendous, and she is not very nice. Karen wouldn't approve. I'm surprised you even chose her."

Sam smiled, slightly. "I would think you would defend her, given your domain."

"She is no more of the natural world than any of these. And hardly innocent. I reject her."

Sam bristled, and flames flickered in his eyes. "It is my choice. And you are not set as judge, not yet. Even Karen only worries about it when she dies. She'll survive what is to come, as far as Karen can see."

Sarah frowned at him, then faded into the shadows in the back of the room, and was gone.

"She is worried," Karen said, appearing from those same shadows, gleaming in the purest white.

"I'm not," Sam said, watching images move across the screen. "Not any more." He hesitated. Karen was different from the rest of them. Less, in some ways, yet in other ways far more. "And you?"

Karen shrugged. Light from overhead gave her almost a nimbus against the shadows. "I know my place." The slightest rise of an eyebrow. "Do you?"

"I serve the Purpose," he growled, growing angry again, and the room seemed to grow warm. "That is my only place, the only one that matters."

Karen nodded, though it was unclear whether it was agreement or acknowledgment. Her brightness seemed to dim, and after a few moments, she was swallowed again in the darkness and was gone.

Leaving a suddenly very disquieted Sam.