An Intriquate Plan

The small hotel reception was quiet as always. As the hours crept towards noon, some sparse rays of the sun would find their way between slanted rooftops and cast golden specks over the little room. The receptionist and owner of the hotel, Mrs. Gillespie, was as usual enjoying a cup of strong coffee and the latest newspapers behind her, accompanied only by the sunlight and the reassuring ticking of the grandfather clock her late uncle had left her. Everything was as it should on this beautiful day.

One of her guests, an elderly man in a worn-out, brown suit came down the stairs, holding a pile of papers and whistling cheerfully on the "God Save The Queen" anthem. Mrs Gillespie looked up and smiled. "Morning, Mr. Fairbanks" she said, raising her cup to him as he paused in front of her desk. He returned her smile and said "Good Morning, Mrs. Gillespie. A most wonderful day, don't you think?". Mrs. Gillespie was used to her guests aloof way of speaking- after all, he had kept a room in her hotel for over six months. "So, you going to send in your latest review today?" she asked. "Indeed", her guest replied, "although I suspect they have grown to dislike my efforts. I got a letter instructing me to get back into shape again if I wanted to keep my post last week". Mrs. Gillespie frowned. "That sounds rather unfair to me. You're sitting up late working for the papers, I hear you writing every night. Those folks should really learn to appreciate having a brain like yours on board!"

Mr. Fairbanks smiled ruefully. "Quality is something our current media lacks, Mrs. Gillespie. Those who nobly attempt to slightly elevate the intellectual level being fed to the common folk every day are being scorned. They prefer ignorance to education, I am afraid". He took in her still frowning face. "Have a nice day, Mrs. Gillespie" he said, smiling again before walking out into the sunlight.

Mr. Fairbanks smiled again as he passed a cafe straight across from the hotel he lived in, but this time his smile was genuine. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow his carefully constructed heap of junk would get him fired from the paper, "forcing" him to leaving. Tomorrow, a physician would die and a suitcase would vanish mysteriously. Tomorrow, the Metamagician would strike again, Aaron Wight thought to himself as he made it down the street.

The warm day shifted as black clouds strolled across the sky lightning flashed and thunder roared but yet still no rain had fallen,A young man well he looked young stood at a crossing both hands behind his back and eyes that spoke of things seen.Jen took a step and thunder crackled causing the young man to start Nimbuis never had storms,As he crossed the street rain fell pouring down sheets of cold rain.Jen continued walking ignoring the rain it didn't hurt so it was not important a mere change of weather could be calculated and used perhaps a weather machine.

Jen strolled through the park in his hand was a small Ipod a relic he was fond of for it allowd instant internet service and Jen was learning alot of Humanity sadly they were a self destroying species.Jen wondered if his time here would be cut short or extended he hopped for the best this was his first asignment after all.His footseps lead him down a street turning this way and that until he came to a cafe walking inside he looked around it was a internet cafe.Jen smiled as he took a seat his hands sliding over the keyboard as he moved through it,Hismind showed him were to go and before too long he was in the pentagon archives floating through very restricted and classified documents the security codes were primitive and easy to rewrite without triggering any red flags.Jen copied all he could before rising and leaving the cafe a wonderful place that made great hot chocolate.Jen turned bumping into a older gentleman and smiled his voice taking on a english accent."Dear me sir I beg your pardon I did not see you there I hope I have not caused you any injury or inconvience.

Percival sat at small round table sipping on a mug of coffee as his eye caught a person flicking through an Ipod, Percival's eyes flickered with silver energy as he saw what the individual was doing, suddenly the Ipod began to bend until it was a small compact ball. "Foolish child is going to attract flocks of FBI here, and I can't have that." he said to himself as he typed away rapidly on his laptop. Percival's laptop screen was littered with government documents of all sorts, he was searching government documents but unlike his coffee shop counterpart he had a reason.

Percival looked up at the small interaction he had with another older gentleman. "Useless child, apparently can't do anything right." he said as he sipped another drink of coffee and closed the laptop as he leisured in his chair to watch the events unfold.