"The reason why so few marriages are happy is because young ladies spend their time in making nets, not in making cages."

 
 It was about two in the afternoon or so.  I think.

 Melinda had left some time ago, and it was just me, there by myself with my thoughts.  I figured I'd have to wait for her to do laundry to get out--and I knew that could be days.  But I've managed that long without food before; I'd do what I had to do.  That didn't worry me.

 It's other things that worried me.

 I'd been in a similar situation before, and it wasn't easy.  The way I saw it, I did have a few advantages:

. I knew the Twin Cities a lot better than I knew L.A.,
. The Twin Cities are a lot smaller than L.A.,
. Sarah was going to still be in that dorm room, so at least I didn't have an immediate deadline,
. I'd been lost in the big city before and managed to survive all right,
. And at least I hadn't been found yet by a crazy psycho bitch who crushed me nearly to death.

 Those were the good points.  Unfortunately, I didn't find my way home last time until I asked for help--something I was loath to do.  I thought I'd managed to convince myself that there isn't a Victoria for every Claire--but no matter what the odds, there is another Victoria out there.

 And I didn't want to run into her again.

 But if I had to, I had to.  I would, somehow, find Sarah again if it killed me.  I knew I loved her, but I was just starting to realize that she loved me too.  And that as much as her happiness was my happiness, my happiness was hers.

 It was strange, down there at the bottom of Melinda's hamper.  Her smell was everywhere.  It was a nice smell.

 I thought I'd take a nap.  This was getting me nowhere.

* * *

D.X. Machina
The apartment above Madame Theresa's Psychic Studio
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota
 

 Teri was downstairs with a client, and it's good that she was.  It gave me a chance to think.

 It was a pretty nice dollhouse, I must say.  I could be comfortable there forever.  But duty was calling, I think.

 I've gotta do what I've gotta do.  I couldn't sit there and ignore the promise I made to Claire.  I needed to go find Scott, and talk some sense into the kid.  And I've always got that larger, amorphous responsibility to GTS in general.  Not that I didn't want to stay here--more that I needed to come back later.

 But there I was.  And how to leave without hurting Teri--that's something I had to figure out.

 
 But it was a nice day, and I was resting.  Worrying was getting me nowhere.

* * *

Sarah Kensington
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota

 "So you like Kyle?"

 Kelly asked the question for the eighty-third thousandth time, and it was starting to get annoying.  "Yes!  There, you happy now?"  I really didn't know why my mood was so sour.  After all, Scott had dumped me, right?  I should be over him.  Hell, he said he wanted me to date.  So this should be easy.

 Yada yada yada.  It wasn't hard to convince my rational side that I was better off without that little lowlife loser, but anyone who deals with love from their rational side isn't dealing with love.

 "And what about Scott?"

 "Well, I like him, too."  Come to think of it, coming to Uptown with Kelly was a bad idea.  I finally stopped dead in my tracks, right in front of the Sri Lanka restaurant, and said, "And if you don't shut up about this, I'll deck you.  I'm having enough trouble dealing with my own questions."

 "Okay, okay.  Fine.  Just don't say I never meddled in your personal affairs."  This line was delivered with perfect timing and a deadpan grin--it's too bad Scott never got to know Kelly.  I think he would've liked her.

 At any rate, we headed up the street towards Uncommon Grounds.

 This was getting me nowhere.

* * *

Anonymous
Library Mall
The University of Wisconsin--Madison
Madison, Wisconsin

 This was the scene of our greatest triumph--D.X.'s triumph, I should say.  Five and a half years, it had been, and it was still the greatest provocation the Cadre had ever faced.  And we had been victorious!

 I don't know why I was there.  Yes, actually, I do.  To remind me of who it was I was searching for.  Not some renegade foe.  Not some traitorous scoundrel.  No, I was looking for a friend.

 I knew where he was headed--Minnesota.  Do not ask me how I knew--I just did.  So I was headed there.  Not to report back to the Chairman.  But to find a friend, and if he would let me, to join him.

 I could stay with the Cadre forever, arguing and pleading, but that was getting me nowhere.

 It was time for a third way.

* * *

Sarah Kensington

 The building was nondescript, with a simple sign: "Madame Theresa's PSYCHIC Studio."

 "You really want to waste your money on this?" asked Kelly, incredulously, as I trudged deliberately up the walk.

 "I've had good luck with psychics before.  And it beats sitting around waiting for my mind to start talking to me again.  Come on, it'll be fun."

 "You're crazy.  And that's what I respect about you, Sarah."

 We made the appointment with the receptionist, who looked like she was only slightly too alt-y for Macalester.  We only had to wait a few minutes for the Madame, who didn't look much older than me, to tell the truth.  She invited us back to her studio, and after I crossed her palm with silver (or, to be more accurate, my Norwest Check Card), she began to weave my fortune.

 "Let's see...we'll start with the cards.  They never seem to fail.  Hmmm..." she started laying the cards down, her expression barely wavering.  "Let's see...the Queen of Swords.  Yes, that does seem representative of you.  Now, to draw...interesting.  The two of wands.  You are in a difficult time.  You are in some sort of relationship that is not coming to fruition.  You are overly contemplative, or perhaps someone close to you is.  This is your atmosphere, yes?"

 "Yes," I answered.

 "Now then...oooh."  She let out a low whistle as she turned over a card marked "Judgement."  "Reversed.  You are facing a significant obstacle.  Deliberation rules, rather than action.  It is overthinking which you must avoid.  Now," she said, flipping another card, and wincing, "The Three of Swords, Reversed.  The best you can hope for at this time is chaos and disorder.  But you have as your own to work with," another card, "The Hierophant."  She paused.  "What an odd card to turn up."

 "Why?" I asked.

 "Just--it's nothing.  I just--it only usually turns up for me in certain cases.  But it means that you have a hold over that which you seek.  It implies that you can hold what you seek in the palm of your hand."  She looked at me meaningfully, but continued.

 "Next, Two of Cups, reversed.  Folly lies behind you.  Next, the King of Pentacles.  This is good--a path of wisdom lies before you.  Next, the Seven of Cups, reversed.  You are filled with desire and determination.  The Three of Pentacles, reversed.  Hmmm...mediocrity abounds around you, guard against it.  Next, The World, reversed.  You fear being trapped in this moment, as you are now.  Finally..."

 She sat motionless, staring at the card as in disbelief.  "What?"  I said.

 "The Empress."

 "What does that mean?"  I asked.

 She was very deliberate.  "It means that you have a very deep secret, one you do not share with anyone you do not trust implicitly.  You have been in contact with a great many things in the last while that you, and I for that matter, know little about.  Tell me, have you ever heard of the Athena League?"

 "No," I said, dumbfounded.

 "How about the Cadre?"

 "No, I haven't.  What are they, comic books?"

 She shook her head and laughed.  "Maybe I just screwed up.  This could be my reading, come to think of it.  Tell you what, I'll give you your money back, just don't go talking about the Athena League or the Cadre or D.X. Machina to anyone."

 She said some more, but it took a second for me to process, and say, "Did you say D.X. Machina?"

 Theresa turned slowly back to me.  "Yes, I did."

 I sighed.  "I don't think you screwed up, Madame Theresa.  I've met D.X. Machina."

 She gasped.  "He's almost mythical.  A foe of the Athena League, but not much of a friend to the Cadre.  I only know a bit about him--the name and such.  But...you've met him?"

 "Yes, in California.  What's this about?"

* * *

Teri Rowland
Madame Theresa's PSYCHIC Studio
Uptown
Minneapolis, Minnesota

 "It's a long, long story, Sarah.  But--and stop me if I'm wrong--you know a shrunken man, don't you."

 She nodded, dumbly.

 "And I can see by looking at these cards that he got it into his head that he was holding you back or you were holding him back or some such, and he took off to God knows where--tricky to find, those little guys--but things seem to be shaping up, and if I wasn't a bit of a pessimist, I'd say he was trying to find his way home right now."

 "I--you can tell all that from the cards?"

 I love the uninitiated.  "They're just my way of meditating.  Some of my psychic friends like to go the auspex route and eviscerate birds.  Be happy I like the Rider Tarot Deck instead."

 Sarah seemed a bright girl.  So I asked her the next question.  "So, did the little guy piss you off, or what?"

 "Oh!  Nothing like that.  I found him.  Been keeping him safe for a while now."

 "Really?  Interesting.  Tell me all about your little man."

* * *

Scott Chelgren

 It wasn't that late in the evening that Melinda returned home.  Probably five or so.  And it wasn't fifteen minutes later that she entered the room, and began rummaging around in drawers.

 I wondered what she was looking for.  Some kind of clothing, I figured.  Apparently, she couldn't find what she was looking for among her clean clothes, because she was shortly looking in the hamper which was doubling as my prison.

 I was steeling myself for the moment; after all, I wasn't going to let myself be found, but by the same token, if any article of clothing came out of this hamper, I was going with it.

 A moment or two later, she reached in, to my left, and I blindly leapt towards the gray mass of fabric she was pulling out.  I grabbed, and held on with all my might, as she with one motion pulled the garment out of the hamper and flipped it towards her bed.

 The garment and I tumbled over and over until we hit the bed.  I groaned.  I hate when that happens.

 Before I cleared out, the fabric was picked up and stuffed in a bag--a gym bag.  Melinda was going to work out.

 And (such is live at half an inch tall) I was going along for the ride.

* * *

Teri Rowland

 "So you didn't put the D.X. the author and D.X. the fortune teller together?"

 "No!  I mean, what are the odds?"

 "Pretty good, if you're in the right community--which you are, dear."  I drank a little more wine.  Sure, we'd been sitting around talking for a few hours, about Sarah's little man Scott, and Kelly's little toy what's-his-name, and my little man Jake, and we had all come to a true appreciation of GTS, and I think I would have had a couple of recruits for the League.  Maybe.

 Anyhow, I said, "Well, I've got a surprise--would anyone like to see Jake?"

 "Sure!  You say you just shrunk him?" said Sarah.  "I can maybe help you out with some of the interpersonal stuff."

 We chatted about this and that on our way upstairs.  But what happened next surprised us all.

* * *

Scott Chelgren

 I was in running shorts.

 I was holding on for dear life to a clump of hairs that were themselves compacted back against the damp skin of Melinda's crotch, as she rode a bike or walked the stairmaster or whatever it was she was doing.  It was fun, and there was a time when it would have been enough.  Not today, though.

 I needed to find Sarah soon.

 I found I was getting tired of other women's crotches.

* * *

D.X. Machina

 I heard three sets of footsteps coming up the stairs, and I've gotta say that it concerned me.  But not so much that I hid when Teri called my name.

 "Coming!" I cried, as I stepped out onto the balcony.  And as soon as I did, my blood froze.

 I recognized all three women, although one I only knew in passing.  Teri was introducing me as Jake Thiessen, and I made a silent prayer, only to have it dashed.

* * *

Sarah Kensington

 I gasped when I saw him--because it was him, without a doubt.  "That's--that's--"

 "What, Sarah?" asked Teri, nicely.

 "D.X." I said, simply.

 "Who, Jake?  Don't be silly.  I've known him since High School.  He's not--"

 Suddenly, there was a crashing sound, and where a dollhouse had been, there was only a rapidly dissipating cloud of dust and a full-sized man, sitting cross-legged on the table, saying, "Yes, Teri, it's true.  I am D.X. Machina."