ON THE LONG ROAD TO EASTPORT.

Away from Nándori, Chyron chattered about the notorious Old West murderer, Charles Kennedy, a local legend in Taos. Non listened quietly, attempting to unwind.

“Voilà, a beautiful rutilated quartz. Another, not from this vicinity. And a third,” Chyron noted, picking up the sparkling crystals he spotted on the road. “One could surmise that a laborer graveling this road set these aside and forgot them.”

Non recalled a Shark On Skis mnemonic and picture. ‘Period three implies chaos. Sharkovskii’s theorem.’

Shark on skis theorem [https://i.imgur.com/PYZ9ulp.png]

He nibbled wild roses on one side of the forest road. “I wonder what happened to me on Earth."

“My tale of departure, mon frère, occurred during a voyage on the open road. Do you recall the cinematic piece, No Country For Old Men? It featured a particular stretch of tarmac - NM-104 - which is as desolate as it is lengthy. On a day when the mercury flirted with triple digits, my vehicle gave up the ghost. I remained with the car for an hour in futile hope, yet no salvation came trundling down the road. With no other option, I embarked on a five-mile trek to a petrol station, only to discover the abandoned shell of the location used in the film's iconic coin flip scene. Amidst the heatstroke delirium, Agent Raft let me flip a coin to offer water. I lost the toss. Do you know of any Westerns yourself?”

“I have to follow that?” Non held a rose stem as he framed a story. “Ned Buntline created many of the tropes of Westerns. The usual modus operandi of his stories involved picking a group, making a villain and then bringing in a hero. It’s all a fallacy around manifest destiny. But Ned went beyond fiction and became a professional agitator. For example, he used those fallacy methods against an Astor Opera House performance of Macbeth. Writers Herman Melville and Washington Irving supported English actor William Macready playing the role. Ned Buntline and Tammany Hall wanted him replaced by American actor Edwin Forrest. Ned got the Bowery boys into the audience for chaos. When the theater staff detained them, they started a fire. Meanwhile, Ned led an outside riot that threw stones and bricks at the theatre. The police brought in an army of 360 from the seventh regiment, including light artillery and mounted cavalry. A bloodbath ensued. Thirty dead, hundreds injured. And from then on, it was called The Scottish Play.”

Non paused, then asked, “Have any minority groups missed receiving such hostility?”

“Well, I haven't heard of any specific instances targeting equitaurs. But our rarity might shield us from becoming a collective target.” Chyron inspected his quartzes under a lens. “You've shared an intriguing tale. I have another, inspired by my understanding of the world's wealthiest. You've alluded to both of them in your stories.”

“I must have missed it.”

Chyron proceeded, “The Opera House celebrated John Jacob Astor, the wealthiest landlord globally. Four generations later, John Jacob Astor the Fourth penned a science fiction story about Bearwarden and the Terrestrial Axis Straightening Company. His Earthself died on the Titanic. Here, as Bearwarden, he is the wealthiest individual on Icarus.”

“I missed that connection. Does the French accent hurt the telling of old west tales?”

“I'm not locked into the accent. I can switch it off, like flipping a switch.” His voice suddenly shifted, the French inflections disappearing, replaced with a more typical, neutral, faster American accent. “As easy as this but when I drop the accent I don't come off as mostly harmless. As a person of color, a French accent acted as a disarming mechanism, at least in the Southwest US. It helped lessen prejudices. Here, I’m eight feet tall and it’s profitable to have an aura of quaintness, especially now that I can see auras.”

Non gave his companion a look of “Who is this guy and what did you do with my brother?”

Chyron adopted his French accent once more, slipping back into it as easily as one might don a well-loved coat. “It's a bit like grooming oneself. It's not strictly necessary, but it makes one's interactions with the world more amiable.” He gave a playful wink. “So, I continue to wear it, like a favorite accessory. After all, we all have our little affectations, don't we? Regarding your question, the tales of the old west do not often call for a French accent, as one might imagine. However, it was not uncommon for a French trapper or a merchant from Louisiana to wander into these stories. Those tales were the ones I told with an added zest of my French inflection. They were, as one might say, the crème de la crème of my repertoire.”

Non hadn't heard any of this before. “While urging me to get a lawyer, you mentioned the injustice of how your father died on the Aozou Strip. I looked that up. Lots of minerals in that part of Chad, in Africa.”

“Oui, Non, especially uranium. My geologist father worked there. I inherited his passion for minerals and rocks. His untimely demise in the civil war was a painful loss.”

“They have horses in Chad?”

“Indeed, Non, horses played a significant role in my arrival story. Amid the chaos, I found solace in sketching their graceful silhouettes. A man named Chyron saw my work and offered me a position in his stables under his care. The work was humble, very humble, but it allowed me to be in the soothing presence of these majestic creatures. Even as conflict escalated around us, the peace at the stable remained a refuge. Still, my duties under Chyron kept piling up.”

“One day, Chyron found himself in a deadly argument with a soldier over a horse. Chyron was shot, and in retaliation, the horse trampled the soldier, only to be shot by another soldier. After that, they ordered me to butcher the horse and bury the two bodies. I wish I could tell you why they were fighting.”

“For a week, I single-handedly took care of the stables. To purchase hay and grain, I used Chyron's documents. Without them, the horses would've starved. Amidst the turmoil, the owner arrived in a pristine white suit, flown in from France on a cargo plane. He asked about the other workers. I laughed at him. 'C'est la guerre,' I responded. He tasked me to drive to the airport with a horse trailer hitched behind. I had a hunch, so I brought my father's heavy duffle bags. We loaded four horses onto the plane. Before I knew it, the doors were closed. We eventually landed in New Mexico and took the horses to a beautiful ranch estate. I became Chyron, with my 400 pounds of rare rocks. I sold the owner’s wife a blue suicide, a blue zoisite, also known as tanzanite. Something my father picked up in the fifties.”

As the brothers clip-clopped far from any town, Non learned more about Chyron, Dapper, Nessie and the Xanthi region. After a silence, he went back to a different topic.

“Chy, what’s your story about the book fair? And you can talk however you like.”

“I’ll try other accents. Last week, Lernea informed me about your health warnings and asked if I could meet you. Days later, I’m reading Immune in my clinic when the radio tells me of Lernea’s murder. I wrote a condolence note and got a system message that you’d Earth-died and to expect a day’s delay. Mom told me you might go to the Athens book fair. Within an hour, I’m on the train. A bear getting on in Dion mistook me for you, offered sympathy for Lernea, and then yammered about books. Two other booksellers joined us. I focused on Immune. Mom wrote about your planned boat trip and that a sileni named Ariesta might meet me at the train station. Soon after getting off the train, we spotted Ariesta behind us.”

“We? I spotted her in a lovely lime shirt and jeans,” said Asclepius. “A case of plurale maiestatis.”

“I hope you get better soon,” joked Non.

Chyron rolled his eyes. “Royal we. You have multiple personalities too now, Non. Ariesta extracted me from the booksellers, wanting to show me the deathrock of Sophocles near the station. Fascinating aura. As we walked, Ariesta talked about the murder and the possibility of you taking over the library. At the convention hall, we unpacked crates and set up your booth. I helped others at the loading area and carried in a big crate for the ninja turtles. Many tell me they are sorry about Lernea. Ariesta didn’t know how she’d run the booth without you,” said Chyron.

“At previous fairs, Lernea was in my head the entire time,” said Non.

“Ariesta would have found that useful to know, I’m sure. Anyways, we finish the booth and head out for a late dinner. Professor Dowell introduced himself as we ate, offering me accommodations for the night. He has a weird aura, but sure, we go to the Athens Overlook. Ariesta departed for her room and told me she had a box of your stuff in case I needed any of it. Dowell has a big suite all to himself. Great walk-in shower. I noticed Dowell has a lot of medical gear, but filed it away. He asked me about changes to the itinerary several times, but I played coy, not wanting to give myself away.”

“Professor Dowell’s Head, 1925 science fiction story. Head transplants. He worked with Dr. Grimstone from the 1882 story Vice Versa and W.H. Donovan from the 1942 story Donovan’s Brain.”

“I should have looked him up. Anyways, privately he gave me Birds of Greece by James Bond. Lovely maps and pictures. Around midnight he leaves and does not return. You should get the story from Ariesta, but near that time a smoke alarm went off. Ariesta was trying to write a eulogy on the same floor, she kicked down the door and found Miss Dap drowned in her bathtub near a smoking microwave. So Ariesta has to talk to the police while finishing the eulogy.”

“I heard about Dap. That must have caused a stir.”

“Yes, her booth at the book fair was across from Lernea’s booth. We both had black ribbons—lots of hushed tones and sympathy around us. Dad sent a note from the boat that you’d both arrive around lunchtime. Coincidentally, the convention site makes us the luncheon guests of honor in memory of Lernea. I gave a rather good reading of the eulogy Ariesta wrote for you.”

“I should have been there.”

“You were busy with the unicorn and minotaur. Dad wrote to say you were at the Zeppelin, so I told Ariesta I’d check out from the Overlook. In the room is Prof. Dowell with a mechanical secretary bird, 3 meters tall with gleaming yellow eyes. Dowell is talking on my phone. MY phone.” Chyron took on a Russian accent. “‘Yes, Tiberius is here with me, and the equitaur just stepped in.’ Dowell hands me my phone. It’s Dad’s voice. ‘Son, is that you?’ I reply, ‘Yes, Sire, It is I.’ He replies, ‘Where are you? I’m in the Zeppelin. What are you putting on my head?’ And then the line goes dead. The creepy professor sees I’m done talking. ‘It’s all over now, right?’ I still have no idea what he’s talking about. I booked it out of there and arrived at the old arena just in time to see the Zeppelin take off. Guards watched me. Of course, now I know what’s in the paper.” Chyron held up a copy of the Kane Inquirer, showing a picture of Non chained to Sophocles with C. F. Kane.

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“Not my proudest minute,” said Non. “I saw that secretary bird on the Zeppelin.”

“At the train station, I updated my ticket and met the Nemean lion at the departure platform. We agree to share a compartment. Rich people arrived. I’m asked to sell my ticket. Refused. The Nemean Lion introduces me to one of his centaur students, Dad’s friend Yoke. Fetlock Holmes steps in to listen. Then the gnoll, Mr. Cairo, steps in and wants the Bond book back. Nemean scared him off. We pulled into Dion. Fetlock related that you and Dad were alive and that he must detrain.”

“Then the wall warped,” said Asclepius.

“Oui. The train seemed faster. The cabin wall warped, a sucking sound, then a thump of you hitting the roof like a skipping stone, wobbling the whole train. Nemean stormed off. When Mr. Cairo thumped on the roof, I walked up the train with him, on the inside, until I heard you up above. Mr. Cairo screamed, then Yoke yelled for help on a collapsing roof. Your torso fell through. Lots of doctors on the runaway train, but just one equitaur blood donor on board. I forget who first relayed a message from Picoid.”

“Buccaneer Swan, a cygnus buccinator bodyguard,” said Picoid. “Right after the capture of the Xanthi dam bomber. The swan helped me to link up with you.”

“Nemean got back to us after killing an otyugh and carried a piece of your hide as a trophy,” said Chyron. “We reclaimed that. A suitcase broke open and spilt silk undergarments all over you. People laughed as I used them as bandages. More doctors joined in. A bacter squeegeed and purified your blood while we staunched the bleeding.”

Non felt his skin crawl. “This sounds terribly unsanitary.”

“Your options were not the best, and these doctors of the rich outclassed me. That’s when I joined you in dreamland during a transfusion. I don’t know some details, but I had five bandages when I woke up two hours later. By then, Bearwarden didn’t want to change trains, though they decoupled the manure cars, changed the engine and removed the damaged car. I became your main doctor.”

“You did a great job keeping me alive, brother.”

“Five doctors helped. I’m not a surgery sort. On Earth, my neighbor at the strip mall ran a vet clinic. I helped her for decades and liked being the occasional vet assistant.”

Caduceus spoke up. “Did you notice a fire ran through here two years ago?”

“What?” Non looked at the wilderness area for threats, then clues.

Chyron booped his snake’s nose. “The flowers are in a superbloom. The trees and rocks have burn marks. The black-backed woodpeckers over there thrive in fire areas. These scars tell a tale.”

“I missed that. Will I have scars?”

“Likely not. But if I’m wrong, think of them as cutie ... what’s the word … charcuterie marks.”

“Terrible. I’ll go say hello to the woodpeckers.” Picoid flitted away.

An amused Chyron segued to a previous conversation. “So your complaint ability … is like that Highlander movie? You detect evildoers and absorb their powers?”

“I have just one data point. I didn’t get a power option until I handed over Skiver to the authorities.”

“But you got a power called Appraise? Try it on me! You have my permission. Let’s try it out.”

Due to the magstorm, Non had preloaded his route. The wilderness region road had Zanardi as a Warden, for example. Non had looked at his brother earlier with Information Overload.

◊ CHYRON. HEADER ON PAGESUS, JANUS AND TALARIA: “AN EQUITAUR VET AT YOUR SERVICE! FIRST AID, DIAGNOSTICS, FORENSICS AND MORE. JE SUIS ICI. #AURAVET.”

“I'll go ahead and give Appraise and my related skills a try. What does 'Je suis ici' mean?”

“It means 'I am here,' mon scrutineer.”

“GOT IT. I’M WORRIED APPRAISE INCENTIVIZED SKIVER TO ATTACK ALL THOSE PEOPLE.”

ᴀ OBJECTION! I DID NOTHING OF THE SORT.

Ñ̰ SORRY. NOW THAT YOU MENTION IT, OBJECTION MIGHT FIT WITH MY THEME.

♫ YOUR LAWYER AEGIS HAS A LEGAL-THEMED POWER SET.

📢 OBJECTION: CHALLENGE THE VALIDITY OF AN ENEMY ACTION.

👨‍⚖️ HABEAS CORPUS: CHALLENGE A RESTRICTION OF FREEDOMS.

📝 MOTION TO DISMISS: CHALLENGE AN ENEMY'S ENTIRE CASE.

🎯 CROSS-EXAMINATION: CHALLENGE THE CREDIBILITY OF AN OPPONENT'S ALLY.

📂 DISCOVERY: GATHER DETAILED INFORMATION ABOUT THE ENVIRONMENT OR OPPONENTS.

📚 PRECEDENT: USE PAST EXPERIENCES TO IMPROVE CURRENT DECISIONS.

📜 SUBPOENA: SUMMON A WITNESS OR KEY PIECE OF EVIDENCE.

🏛️ AMICUS CURIAE: CALL UPON AN UNBIASED THIRD PARTY FOR ADVICE.

Non bodymapped the sudden legalese. “I still apologize for stealing your chyron, Chyron.” He then added Appraise result tied to Asclepius and Caduceus.

ᴀ HARVESTABLE: 💥 AURA ANALYSIS AND 💎 CRYSTALLOGRAPHY.

All that time fussing over powers, then he’d walked into a leather shop with a helpful and friendly badger offering custom hats. Without the Complaint ability, he would have headed into the sketchy back area. He’d have drunk the poisons Skiver favored. None of his chosen abilities would have helped him. He’d be dead. His brother would be dead.

Chyron saw Non’s sudden horror, then the reason written on his brother’s variable pelt. “Oui, Non, my snakes have those abilities. Perhaps we’d be safer appraising the grass instead?”

“One moment, I’m trying my similar powers.” Picoid returned to Non’s shoulder.

➗ DIVISION, 🍒 CHERRY PICKING, 🔗 COMPOSITION.

➗ INHERENT: EQUITAUR, GEOLOGY, VET, SNAKES. OVERLAY: ANATOMY MAP, CRYSTAL CATALOG, MANNERISMS.

🍒 CHYRON IS A NOTED EXPERT ON FELDSPAR AND QUARTZ VARIETIES IN THE GREATER AEGEAN REGION. CHYRON PROVIDES FIRST RESPONDER RECOVERY FOR STABLES FOUND IN POOR CONDITION.

🔗 CHYRON TACKLED YOUNG NON AND HELD HIM DOWN WHILE REATTACHING AND TREATING HIS LEG. CHYRON RALLIED DOCTORS ON THE TRAIN TO SAVE OLD NON. YOUNG CHYRON PULLED A DROWNING NON FROM THE VOLOS RIVER.

As all three lists grew in size, Non combined them and worked on filtering options. “Picoid, you've gotten Division to work. What are Inherent and Overlay abilities?”

“Your Notiphobia was an Ostrich fallacy overlay. It could be split away. Inherent items, like my Insanity Fuse, don't have neat cleavage planes. Division takes time to process fully. Chyron, I looked at the wheat grass, which divides into leaves, stalks, husks and wheatberries. The wheatberry can make durum, flour, semolina, malt or bran. Non, I've used your Cherry Picking skill while hunting bugs.”

ᴀ AM I GETTING A POOR APPRAISAL?

Ñ̰ THE MERE IDEA OF HARVESTING MY BROTHER HORRIFIES ME.

ᴀ YOUR LISTS WILL GROW LONG. AS SHAKESPEARE SAID, “WHAT’S PAST IS PROLOGUE.”

The listing of brotherly help soon overwhelmed Non. The wheat developed into a whole cookbook.

Non sighed. “It’s late. The grasses are tall fescue and widmark wheatgrass, a. smithii. Both are edible. We could step around from the back, eat a patch and sprawl in a hay-induced haze. We’d be hidden from the road.” Non led the way, then tried the fescue. He hungered enough to keep eating while continuing to compare the powers. Appraisal gave better results on his own wounds.

ᴀ THE LEG WOUND HAD A STAPH. AUREUS INFECTION. PHAGE K AVAILABLE. YOUR ARM INFECTION COULD USE THAT.

Non gave Chyron the details, then tuned Cherry Picking, Division and Composition to work together.

“Très intéressant. Allow me to transfer that useful phage. Could you share more results?”

Non shared and learned of the T4 and C1 phages he needed elsewhere on his body. “This wilderness area has fewer weeds than normal, and more… well, more weed. Lots of hallucinogen-related flora. You might know of this topic?” According to the power listings, Chyron knew a lot about psychoactives.

“My colleagues call them aura buffs. I’ve never seen so many growing in the wild. But I will stay with the bland fescue tonight. Blessed be our equine roughage perseverance.”

Non nodded as he ate. “Better than the beet mash you said I needed earlier.”

“And you’re a good colt for eating that to assist your healing. How goes your reading?”

“I’m at 25% on my two books,” said Non. He tried scrolling the listings on his body.

║ I’VE GONE THROUGH THE EARLY SKIVER MURDERS WITH PICOID, CATALOGING POTENTIAL LEADS FOR MAYHEM.

“Did Skiver ever Appraise Mayhem?” asked Asclepius. As Non and Chyron peered at the snake, Asclepius blinked back. “I’m just asking.”

ᴀ WOLF-FOX-EAGLE CHIMERA. REGENERATION. CROSS-SPECIES TRANSPLANTS. ABILITY HARVESTING. MORTICIAN. ATTEMPTED TRANSPLANT WITH BILLFAST BADGER’S SKIN FESTERED INSTEAD OF ADHERING. MAYHEM LEFT THE COMPANY OF SKIVER AFTER THAT. I CAN SHOW PICTURES. HARVESTABLE: 🧠 BODY CONTROL, 🧪 XENOGRAFT AND 👃 PHEROMONES

Chyron saw sudden dismay in Non’s eyes, then the body scroll. “Let’s hold off on those pictures. Non, time to see how much regeneration you’ve regained.”

“My high capacity tenacity? Sure. And I agree, no grotesquerie memories right now.”

ᴀ SINCE I HELPED WITH PHAGES, COULD I AUGMENT CHYRON’S ABILITIES WHILE HE’S TOUCHING YOU?

⚷ WE SHALL TRY. OH, IT’S WORKING ALREADY! I DIDN’T THINK THIS AREA NEEDED ATTENTION YET.

Chyron touched a painful spot, then opened his pack for surgical tools. Once he located forceps, he plunged a narrow scalpel into Non’s hide to seek the cause.

“Should I complain about this?”

After a spurt of blackish pus, Chyron coaxed out a toothpick-sized splinter, letting more purulence drain out. “Eucalyptus with wood tar. Perhaps from a railroad tie?” Non felt his brother puncture a new spot.

“I’ll just keep eating while you stab me.”

“The fast patches, staples, stitches and regeneration hid a few festering areas. But you’re doing well.”

Non put up with it, then outlined areas of research. Picoid flew off to get dinner.

“So who’s the main bad guy in all this, mon frère?”

“Universally, the current laws of physics. In five billion years, we get Milkomeda and Sagittario is gone. By then, no more life-friendly G-class stars. In 100 billion years, universal expansion closes the cosmic light horizon so that no other galaxies can be seen. In 100 trillion years, only a hundred weak stars will still shine in Milkomeda. In a googol seconds, our galactic core evaporates by Hawking radiation. Sagittario will either die when eaten by Andromeda or watch itself and the universe die. True immortality sucks.”

“A googol seconds. You calculated that?” Chyron prepared the syringe.

“Yep, and that brings me to myself as the bad guy. The first level ten galactic threat. I got Picoid fired while working on a smuggling scheme and threw guards around for no good reason. If I’m dreaming or in the afterdeath, then I’m the bad guy. A loner on two planets, meeting D-rank famous people. No-one knows who Bearwarden is on Earth. Warden Zanardi? Who the heck is that?”

║ ZANARDI IS AN 80’S UNDERGROUND COUNTERCULTURE COMIC BY AN ARTIST FROM FOGGIA, ITALY.

Ñ̰ THANKS FOR THE LOOK-UP, TYCHO. LET ME KNOW IF ANYTHING IS ACTUALLY UNDERGROUND.

“That brings us back to bad guy Bearwarden who somehow did a Space: 1999 on the moon. Sagittario values action over theory, so minor hiccups like threatening Istanbul will be forgotten. I’ll bet this magnetic filament we’re in wasn’t on our planet’s planned path. For the Hercules plot, Dr. Mayhem is the big bad, but I have threat assessments for everyone.”

Ᵽ THERE’S A SIGN UP HERE: FOGGIA 30KM. LOCAL FIRE BIRDS SAY HELLO. ALSO, BEWARE OF HAWKS.

Ñ̰ THANKS, PICOID.

“Am I on the suspect list?” asked Chyron as he gave Non his evening shot.

“If you were completely non-suspicious, that would make you suspicious. Look up Herald the Healer in the Cluster series sometime, Hercule. Anything about my body I should know about?”“

Chyron lanced a bad spot with a scalpel. “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men stitched you back together again on the floor of a runaway train. A few minor fester spots to clean out.”

“This bedside manner works well with the stabby-stabby. Does Appraise help?”

“Appraise offers excellent extra details. Now we disinfect, phage and bandage.”

Ᵽ HELP, NOW, MAP.

Non immediately got up and ran towards Picoid’s location, aiming at a fire-damaged magnolia. A falcon circled while four others chased the woodpecker.

Ñ̰ SUMMON PICOID WITH THE NEW LEG BAND.

║ NOT SET UP YET? WORKING ON IT. PICOID’S GONE FERAL WITH FEAR.

ᴀ HARRIS FALCONS. PACK RAPTORS.

Ñ̰ DOME OF DARKNESS AROUND THE AREA.

The dark sphere gave the woodpecker a few moments as Non vaulted up, alarming the falcons as the tree swayed and the sudden dark sphere vanished. As the taur searched upward for Picoid, an overloaded branch broke in Non’s hand. He looked at the branch stupidly while Icosian pressed at his back, forcing his body to the trunk. Picoid hid under his right arm.

“Brother, you’re about two meters off the ground,” said Chyron, throwing dirt at the falcons.

Ᵽ I’M BACK. SORRY. I LOST MY MIND WHEN I COULDN’T MOVE FAST ENOUGH. AH, THE SUMMON BAND IS READY.

Non dropped the broken branch, then felt his brother’s shoulders under his back hooves. As a screeching falcon attacked Non’s face, he deftly caught it. The four other falcons harried him. ‘A bird in the hand isn’t something I planned.’ He yanked a primary feather before releasing it.

⚷ I’VE GOT YOUR HOOVES ON MY SHOULDERS. DO I NEED TO DO ANYTHING?

Ñ̰ I’M COMING DOWN NOW. PICOID, WORK OUT OTHER BLANKET PERMISSIONS WITH TYCHO SO I CAN APPROVE THEM.

They watched the falcons fly off. “Want a feather, Chy?” Non offered, walking back to the fescue. Once there, he pulled out seeds and nuts to provide a safer dinner for Picoid.

“Active primary. The falcon won’t be happy.”

“It’ll live.” Non held out his beak-bitten hand to Chyron.

“Your hand will do fine. Also, great news, I collected leeches at the stream we stopped at an hour ago. They are sufficiently clean. I will apply them to the skin flaps with venous congestion.”

The patient wryly laughed. “That is great news! Did heroic medicine ever become a thing here?”

“No. According to Picoid, the sectors figured out genetics millions of years ago. He had a funny story for when the ancient Greeks found huge skulls with a socket at the center of the forehead and deduced Cyclops. They were actually elephant skulls, with the socket being the area for the trunk.”

“Neat. I’m crashing. If that’s okay.”

“Go ahead, mon frère. I’ll take care of things.”