Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.
Picnics. Such a wonderful, innocent pastime. Sunshine, food, wine and laughter in roughly equal amounts. Annasophia, running and being chased by Flash. A leap and swipe of velveted paws and she is rolling on the ground, laughing helplessly. Glance down at my side, where two kits are curled up against my leg, sharing my blanket and sound asleep. The third, the intrepid explorer, is attempting to scale Don Brent's immaculate trouser leg and failing miserably. His squeaks of misery get him what he wants, a hand reaching down, gently picking him up and stroking him.
Luis and Suilien, sparring with their practice swords under the trees, with Margareta, Hans and Enrique shouting encouragement indiscriminately to both. Luis is ahead on points, despite his much shorter reach. He turned out to be much faster than she did, after the enhancement process had finished. She is more of a killer though. I have done runs with all three of them. Of the three, Reeves is probably the best. Much better than me, being more balanced. He never lets the rage take over. But they are all good. Better than good.
Marta, having claimed the barbecue from Luigi by some mysterious process, is busy basting the steaks, raising heavenly smells that everyone in the park appreciates. See Sergei and James in the distance, heading this way and give them a wave. Late, as usual, but still in time for food. Now there is a strange pairing indeed.
Ronnie plonks himself down at my side.
“I really wish I knew why they did it.” He sounds slightly disgusted. Why and how are gods to him.
“Me too, but I guess we'll never know.” A shadow looms over me. Leap to my feet and help my pretty, talented, and heavily pregnant wife sit down. It is going to be twins. She knew two days after conception, didn't get round to telling me until a month ago. A mental shudder. If Doc MacKenzie hadn't been right there that day …
She smiles gently at me, banishing the thought, before turning to Ronnie. “Does it really matter why? We got them all, in the end.”
“Well ...” he sounds reluctant. “There are some hints in the tapes that we missed a couple of big players in the scheme. Nothing concrete, but they are out there.” He nods at Brent. “We are keeping on looking.”
“Good,” I say, sitting down again and leaning back to look around Seraphina. “As long as we stay on guard, we should be fine.”
As I reach up and take my plate from Luigi, my phone chimes. “Stevens, Jones. We have just received word that a new type of demon, with energy readings off the detector scale, has been spotted on Alpha Crucis 4. Respond soonest.”
Sigh. Always when I am eating, the miserable sod.
It will end.
Someday.
I swear it.
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