The ride on the elevator, the couples talking in the halls, even the deftly hidden watchers of the Bey – things were beginning to grow dire. I’ve seen this before, everyone on the outside is oblivious, but the internal pressures build and those on the inside can no longer wrap themselves in the comfort of ignorant bliss. The blind were already reacting to the changes, even if they did not understand it, the ever so guarded postures and the lingering eyes. It would not take much to blow this amalgam of humanity into full riot – how even the most powerful are at the whims of a thousand baying sheep. Now I seek a shepherd, Mrs. Blaize.

The Level 9 media center sprawls out like a modern day ‘Cave of Wonders’ in the subdued twilight – video banks throwing blurs of light against the hungry specters darting viciously about the room. I’ve never particularly cared for the media, even when they were on ‘our’ side, running damage control or convincing the local denizens to sell their land rights away to us. Even if you get a few under your thumb – everyone’s got a pack of wolves. Then, here I am, seeking out a pack alpha. Then again, what’s a few mangy mutts fighting for scraps compared to a lion.

Then, out of the barking mass, she appears with that pleasant grin that most must find so disarming. I’ve felt the sting of my Brutus once, she has a reputation for getting her prey to betray itself, even the reputation is a failing on her part. I’ve faced far…”Evening Mrs. Blaize, I was hoping to have a word with you for a moment, perhaps over dinner?” A battleground I know well, the subtle retreat of a mouthful of greens and the blitz taken by a haphazard sip of chardonnay, I’ve made billions in this theater alone.

“What made you decide to come around Pater, or Candyman, or whatever face you’re wearing now? I thought your purpose here was humanitarian or,” the amusement in her voice is quite evident, “transhumanitarian, but that’s not what your boss told us.” The sweet venom of those words, she thought being found out for the truth would cause me to crack or knock me off balance? When you never moderate your tactics, when your plan of attack becomes known, you become ineffective. “Mrs. Blaize, I’m only here because your useful to me, and I know I have something you want. Lazarus group is not going anywhere, we are as tenacious as our moniker, we are going to climb in fame and importance for decades to come. You want in on the ground floor, you want to tell of our hardships and success, perhaps even exclusively. I am here to say only this, if you’re a friend to us, we will be a friend to you. My reasons for being here are multifaceted, I am not a simple man, but if you will respect our privacy – I would be pleased to explain our professional lives to you for some time to come. However, know this as well Mrs. Blaize, it’s a new world now. Even should our names and faces be smeared in the dirt, we will rise again transformed and unrecognizable, Able should be a testament to that. We will always be – and I would rather have us life long friends.” I can tell the sales pitch is not quite what she was expecting – not right away. Some excuse, some paper thin defense, but past that briefest moment of shock she was pleased. Her food forgotten, "Tell me the story about the Ghost…”