Welcome to Gaia! ::

The red headed assassin merely smiled in response before she decided to stop leaning against the jukebox and stand erect. She returned the bow given to her by Constantine with an inclination of her head. She looked to the luggage on the floor and finally said, "That's good. The doctor and myself are merely waiting on you to finish then. Fantastic!" She then pulled her her right sleeve before asking, "Could you take a look at your stiletto firing invention? I'm not sure I've done proper maintenance to it. The projectiles keep listing to the right ever so slightly." She had taken them both off now so that he could take a look for himself.

Constantine shook his head with a sigh and took the proffered weapons. “I’ve told you, time and time again, Senhora: take it easy on your toys.”

He slipped one of the bracelets onto his wrist, adjusting it to his comfort, then aimed his hand or the back of the workshop, where he tested most of his inventions; a target hung there, pocked with indentations made from projectiles past. Clenching his fist, Constantine activated the device, and a stiletto dart struck the target with an audible thok. A second barely passed, and he repeated the process thrice, sending three more darts in rapid succession. Thok, thok, thok. Stepping away from Bloody, the inventor approached the target and studied it; sure enough, the darts made their home on the right instead of dead-center. He returned to his work table, where he slipped on a pair of magnifying goggles and inspected the bracelet.

“The alignment’s off--not to mention the dust build up.” Pulling his goggles down around his neck, Constantine looked over at Bloody. “I’ll get them working properly again, but you’ve got to be more diligent with the maintenance.”

~*~

Zedd stared at Alex. It was a rare thing to see a smile upon the butler’s face; perhaps, almost as rare as one of his own. The Gardener averted his attention to the window at the mention of the third person of their party.

“That won’t be necessary; I’m sure she’s quite capable of acquiring her own transportation.” He set the teacup aside again, and raised the e-kiseru, pausing just short of reaching his lips. “Best be quick about the arrangements, Pendergast. The clock’s ticking.”

((^^ No worries, darlin'--you haven't broken any rules by doing so.))

The smile faded as Alex bowed.

"Yes, sir."

The butler's bedroom was much smaller and more simple than his employer's. A plain oak wardrobe sat against the wall, opposite to the twin-sized bed with its white duvet and sheets and oak frame. Neatly spread over the white duvet was a navy blue quilt with a bright blue outline of a bluejay. Next to the wardrobe was an open door leading to the bathroom. A small desk stood by the window, which overlooked the stables. After pulling the chair out from beneath the desk, Alex sat down and placed his hand on the wooden surface. Like Zedd's desk, a series of icons presented themselves after he moved his hand to the right. He pulled up a blank document and the address book before picking up the phone.

"I'd like to reserve three seats on an airship heading directly to Marcella International Skyport. What departure times are available for tomorrow morning?"

The document in front of Alex soon contained a detailed itinerary and copies of the reservations. After arranging for a carriage to pick them up, Alex had Ichi inform her sisters they were expecting a carriage. He also set a reminder so Ichi would tell him to turn Roku offline before leaving. Dragging the document so it disappeared into a folder, Alex then swiped his hand over the surface of the desk. The holographic display vanished. Alex pulled a slim black bag out of the wardrobe. He carefully folded the clothes he wore while delivering the Tiramisu to Trikks and placed them in the bag. A few other necessities went into the bag before Alex pulled out the drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe. A long slim object wrapped in black silk sat in the drawer. A small dagger rested in its sheath next to the wrapped item. Alex took the dagger out and slipped it in one of the bag's hidden pockets. He stared at the remaining item in the drawer for a moment, debating whether or not he wanted to take it with him.

It wasn't a question of how to keep the item concealed. The bag was unusually long for that purpose. The butler's hand reached forwards and then hesitantly drew back. Alex's brow furrowed. He was wasting time. He snatched the item of the drawer and slid it into a different pocket in the bag.

Ichi was waiting patiently as the butler left his room. Alex held out the bag.

"Take this to the front door and place it next to the umbrella rack. Is Master Zedd still in his study?"

After being relieved of his bag and receiving confirmation of Zedd's location Alex returned to the study. This time he entered the study after knocking.

"The airship leaves at four o'clock tomorrow morning, sir. The itinerary and reservations are available to you and I've requested a carriage pick us up at half past two."

-|-

Rose's brows furrowed. Surely Bloody wasn't referring to that machine. The doctor was familiar with mechanics and trusted Constantine's creations, but just looking at that particular machine still made her a bit nervous. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to reassure herself that it was better than leaving her bike unattended at the skyport.

"I'll meet you two in the garage," she replied. Rose then headed out of the office, closed the door behind her, and headed down the stairs to collect her bag and regroup with the others.

Zedd had just ended his second call to Archie when Alex walked into the study.

Turning toward the desk and activating the interface once more, the Gardener tapped a telegram icon that quietly pulsed in the upper-right corner; sure enough, the traveling documents awaited his approval. He tapped each file and briefly scanned their contents, before selecting one of the various options that lined the document. In seconds, a drop-window appeared, and Zedd was sending them to his PDA.

“Good work, Pendergast.” Rising to his feet, he closed out the desk system then strode for the door. “I’ll oversee my own packing. In the meantime, ensure that there are no loose ends.”

As soon as Zedd stepped into the hallway, his fingers touch the side of his goggles once again. Someone picked up after the second ring.

“I thought there was to be no contact between us.” Undoubtedly female, the voice contained a delicious softness--like satin running over skin. “I gave my report to your new man, this afternoon.”

“This concerns a different matter entirely.” The Gardener kept his voice low as he turned and swiftly ascended the stairs. “I’m in a bit of a predicament.”

“That’s surprising. What does it have to do with me?”

“I’ve just been met with a few complications to my schedule and I’m unable to keep the appointments I’ve lined up this week. I need a proxy.”

Zedd opened the bedroom and quickly made for the bed, dropping to one knee and reaching into the space underneath. He pulled out a single leather suitcase, dropped it on the bed, and popped the lid open. Getting to his feet, he approached the wardrobe and threw open its doors. One quick tug on the braided cord initiated the wardrobe’s inner mechanism, and the shelves began their noisy rotation.

“How many?”

“Twelve.”

“Done. I’ll see to them, starting tomo--”

“See that you get to them now. You have three hours.”

The female on the other end snorted.

“You must be joking. I’m not a miracle worker, Zedd.”

“No, but you’re capable.”

Zedd tugged on a different cord, and the shelves stopped. A shelf slid out and presented itself to its master. Before him, lay a plainer set of clothes, constructed with lighter material, lacking in detail and elegance; there was no need for finery where he was going. The Gardener took them out of the shelf and brought them over to the bed.

“What’s the rush, if you don’t mind my asking.”

“A family matter.”

There was a moment of silence before the voice spoke again: “Fine, but I’ll need access to your personal storage container.”

“Done. I’ll ping you the code and the appointment details as soon as you get there. Once you’ve finished, be at the Bernadine International Skyport no later than two in the morning."

“Why?” The female made no effort to conceal the irritation in her voice.

“As I said, the matter concerns my family.”

“If the matter concerns your family, then why must I accompany you?”

The Garderner couldn’t blame her, really. Why drag a complete stranger into a family affair? However, there was the ominous feeling that this no mere reunion, and he needed all hands on deck. It was imperative that she be present.

“It’s because of my family that I need you with me.”

Seconds of silence weighed heavily, this time. Then: “As you wish.”

“Excellent. Oh, and Trikks--dress appropriately.” He was about to end the call, but Trikks quickly said his name before his fingers could reach his eyewear. “What is it?”

“There’s something you should know about this afternoon’s delivery…”

Zedd listened intently to Trikks’ account of that afternoon as he quietly arranged his clothing and other minor necessities within the suitcase. For a brief moment, his jaw clenched. He closed the lid to his suitcase just as she finished.

“I see. Thank you, Trikks.”

Ending the call, the Gardener took up the suitcase and carried it out into the hall, where he caught San in the middle of her rounds. Handing her the suitcase, he instructed her to take it to the foyer then calmly descended the stairs as she flit on ahead to carry out his command. Upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, he made his way back to the study. There was just one more item to take along.

Zedd opened the door and his gaze immediately fell on the corner, where a leather cello case stood. He crossed the room toward it and reach out to trace the edges. It’d been ages since he last opened it. Nostalgia dance below the surface of his memory, and the Gardener grabbed the handle before it could surface. With swift purposeful strides, Zedd carried the cello case into the foyer.

~*~

“I’ll head down and warm her up for take off.” He held up Bloody's bracelets. "Once we're in the air, I'll work on these."

Constantine scooped his luggage off the floor and made his way out of the workshop, but instead of heading straight toward the stairs, he veered left and strode down a dark tunnel. He kept his eyes on the dim light at the end, shifting his center of gravity against the slope beneath his feet. By the time he reached the garage doors, he’d worked up a bit of a sweat.

Suddenly, the inventor found himself caught in a shaft of light, and a disembodied female voice resonated around him:

“Intruder detected on garage level. Identify yourself for entry.”

“Really, minha querida--”

“Access denied.”

“But you know me!”

“Access denied.”

“This is ridicu--”

“Access denied.”

“Listen, if I can make you, I can take you apart! So, how about showing me some respect!”

“You have exceeded the number of entry attempts.” A pair of gatling guns sprang up from the floor, their barrels spinning as they fixed their aim on Constantine. The tunnel echoed with the threatening hums of their photon charges. “Prepare for deletion.” In a panic, Constantine dropped his luggage and rattled off the override code. The guns suddenly went still and the hums dulled, but remained where they were. “Override accepted. Identify yourself for entry.”

“Identification number--5509CD.”

“State your personal passphrase.”

“Danza Kuduro.”

And, with that the shaft of light glittered an eerie green, adding a diseased pallor to the inventor’s caramel-colored skin.

“Access granted. Welcome, Constantine Emanuel Delgado.”

As quickly as they came, the guns plunged back into their compartments beneath the floor, and stepped into the garage just as the metal doors parted. Huge spotlights bathed the garage in a golden wash, revealing a small array of vehicles. Relieved, Constantine took up his luggage, hurried toward a small zeppelin anchored to the floor, and punched in a code into the codebox at the tailend of the airship. The ramp barely touched the floor when the inventor hopped into the tiny cargo hold and made his way toward the bow, stopping halfway through the belly to story his suitcase in one of the compartments. He entered the control room and flipped the switch to the engine.

It was a small, unassuming aircraft, easily classified for recreational transport. But Constantine knew better: keeping Bloody’s wishes in mind, he designed the zeppelin to be a miniature warship with as much firepower as any combat flyer in the B.C. Air Force; enemies wouldn’t know what hit them. It wasn’t without its setbacks, however: its construct was made for cruising rather than slicing through airspace, and its size meant it took more time to cover ground; though Bloody gave it a test run, the effects of extended travel were still unforeseeable. Still, they’d be able to make an inconspicuous departure.

Constantine’s fingers danced across the control board, his gaze flicking from one gauge to another as he monitored their progress. Everything appeared to be stable. He just hoped it would be a smooth flight.

After standing to the side to let Zedd through, Alex bowed. The butler then left the room. Alex proceeded to diligently check the lights, windows, and doors of the other rooms. After making his round he returned to the study to close the window, only to find Ni beat him to it. Nodding his head approvingly, he finally checked the kitchen. Everything was cleaned and neatly put away. The fire was out, but the embers still glowed. Alex waited until the embers too went out. After he stepped out of the kitchen he spotted Ichi traversing through the hallway.

“Ichi.” The doll-like eyes gazed up at him. “Have Roku meet me in the kitchen.”

The order was received. After Roku entered the kitchen she made a bee-line for the fireplace. A spark formed in her hands as she anticipated Alex’s order.

“Roku, stop.” The maid halted obediently, inches from the hearth. “I’d like to conduct a temporary shutdown of your systems.”

“Preserve memory?”

“Yes,” Alex confirmed. A panel opened on Roku’s back, revealing a series of switches and a mass of wires. Beeping sounds emitted as Alex’s fingers fluttered over the switches, followed by an electronic whining as Roku powered down.

“Ichi, are you still there?”

The maid stepped into view.

“Roku should not be leaving the kitchen until master Zedd or myself have returned. Should she somehow come online during our absence you must turn her offline once again.”

“Order received and understood.”

Alex turned the kitchen lights off and closed the door behind him before heading towards the foyer.

“Everything is ready for our departure, sir,” Alex informed Zedd after seeing his employer.

-|-

“Identification number 2253RD. Rose Dalphina. Mens sana in corpore sano.” Rose stated after the system began to speak. Standing outside the zeppelin with Bloody, she eyed the ship warily. How sure was Constantine that this ship wouldn’t give them any problems?

((Translation of Latin passphrase: a sound mind in a sound body.))

“Thank you, Pendergast.”

Zedd set the cello case onto the floor beside his luggage, then turned toward the front door, where Nana waited with his traveling coat. He gestured for her to come forward. As she helped him into the garment, he recalled that morning’s conversation with Archie.

Father was a codename, something that they (the Bloody Rose and himself) called their guardian in place of his given name. But his relationship with Levi Evenstryke had not been that of father and son; Levi lacked the paternal capacity, and Zedd couldn’t care less. (Archie had been the father-figure.) As Archie mentioned over breakfast, Levi had been his mentor. The Gardener thought back to those days of ceaseless training and harsh tutelage, having dominated every single challenge thrown his way. Levi could have set the bar in the clouds if he wanted to, and Zedd still would’ve managed to reach it--not because he wanted to win favour in the old man’s eyes, but simply because he could. However, like most relationships, theirs came to an end. Whatever reservations Levi might’ve had about Zedd taking his place (even then Zedd sensed it) vanished the night of the botched solo. Just as he’d done before life at the Poppy House, Zedd left and started a new life. Now, his past dared to encroach upon it.

“All bundled up for the trip, sir.”

“Thank you, Nana.” Zedd adjusted the lapels of his coat. “You may go about your business.”

“As you wish, sir.”

With a ballerina’s grace, Nana curtsied and padded quietly out of the foyer. Just as she turned a corner, Quentin zipped past her, his eyes bright as he glided over to the door. Eyeing the luggage by his master’s feet, the little droid’s mandibles clicked with (what Zedd guessed to be) excitement until his gaze fell on the cello case. Taken in by its unusual curvature, Quentin started for it only to have his way barred by Zedd’s cane.

“Quentin.” The Gardener snapped his fingers until the robotic scarab turned his bulbous eyes on him. “You are to remain here with the others.”

Quentin tilted his head at this as if the command didn’t register. Flitting over the cane, he gestured to himself, then at the door with an eager nod.

“No.”

The little droid’s shiny eyelids drooped, the color in his eyes phasing from a bright green to a baby blue. Quentin made a second attempt and placed a segmented limb on the cello case: his animatronics were crude compared to the newer models, but it was clear, by the tilt of his eyelids, he was pleading with his master.

“I will not repeat myself.”

That did it. Weighed down by disappointment, Quentin gradually lost altitude until his hind legs touched the floor. He stood there, rubbing his forelegs together and shuffling, the blue hue still present in his eyes as he absently scanned the intricate designs in the Persian runner-rug. It was almost pitiful.

“Go see if Ichi needs assistance in the kitchen.”

Reluctantly, Quentin waddled off in the direction of the kitchen. He’d barely made it out of the foyer when he stopped and looked over his shiny back to make one final appeal.

“Go on.” Zedd gestured toward the hallway with his cane.

Turning away, the little droid took to the air once more and floated off with noticeably less vigor.

With that matter taken care of, the Gardener nodded at San, who opened the door with unnecessary flare. Zedd stepped onto the porch and silently made his way down the steps, without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

“Come along, Pendergast.”

~*~

Constantine glanced at the security feed; standing at his door, were Bloody and the doctor.

Giving everything a quick once over, the inventor hurried out of the control room and opened the door for his two passengers. He glanced at his wristwatch. So far, they were making good time. Leaving his employer and the doctor to get settled, Constantine returned to the control room, plunked himself into the pilot’s seat, and depressed a button on the right armrest. A yoke slid out from a hidden compartment in the dash.

“Alright, baby--let’s see you fly for Papa.”