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When the door opened, I was surprised to hear a rough sounding voice come from a hidden loudspeaker.“If it isn’t my old friend, the TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler. Sorry your house has been a wreck for two hundred years. But I don’t need a roommate. Leave.”I yelled out, “Kellogg! Where’s my son?”Things were silent, with no response. I yelled out again, then jumped when Piper touched my arm. “I think he can track us, but I don’t think he can hear us.”“Fine. Let’s find that fucker!”We started down a hallway, deep underground. The lighting here was terrible, not letting us see very far. I held up one hand, because in the distance I saw something red. I put my rifle up to my shoulder and looked, then pulled the trigger. The flare from the muzzle flash briefly illuminated the corridor enough that everyone else could see the synth I’d shot. From behind it, red flashes came back our way. Some kind of laser pistols or rifles. The only problem. ‘Let’s get something to eat and then we can watch this tape.’ It dawned on Dean that he had been burning calories like crazy. ‘There’s not enough left in the kitchen to serve four,’ Deborah reported. ‘Does ‘Pagliacci’ sound good? The restaurant by that name, I mean.’ ————————— After dinner, drowsy with heavy Italian food – nothing nova about those dishes – the four of them made it back to the living room of the B&B. Despite the temptation to close his eyes, Dean made it across the room to the vcr and popped the tape in. The machine clunked and whirred, interrupted a news story about Summit preparations, and then filled the screen with blue. There was a long pause, and then a theme fanfare that included bars from ‘La Marsellaise’ that blended into a more modern synthesizer sound as a tricolor flag appeared. Evidently, this was a pre-recorded opening sequence, because the picture lurched suddenly into a single camera shot frozen on an unoccupied lectern. A man whose face was now.
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