Author's notes:

For me, a work of fiction (usually movies, as that is about all the energy I can muster right now) can work on up to four 'directions.'

1. It is entertaining to consume. It's eye-candy or mind-candy. You enjoy the time it takes to wend its way through until it's conclusion. You walk away with a smile, with no regrets for this time spent.
   
   
2. It is rewarding to consume. It has some take-away moment, scene, line or moral. You might be entertained (I hope so, else you may well leave before the take-away takes hold.) You might not be. Either way, you will walk away not just with no regrets, but feeling enriched.
   
   
3. It is life-changing to consume. It needn't be a change to encompass the whole of your life. It could be as simple as teaching you to ask a question, perhaps a simple one, but almost always a seditious one.
   
   The Matrix taught me to ask "Is this real? Is this really real? What if it weren't?" This new 'lens' has helped me write.
   
   I didn't realize it at the time. I walked away with the knowledge that much of my hopes for Hollywood were coming true: the melding of US SFX, Hong Kong wire-fu, Japanese anime / manga, and a little bit of mental heft to the film. A little bit. But it wasn't just "Ah'll be bhak."
   
   
4. It is life-changing to produce. This is one of the reasons I write. Again, it needn't change the whole of my life, just give me some insights that may be lurking within, but needed this medium, this concentration, to be set free, to form itself into a cogent phrase instead of a generalized cloud. The reader may not see it, but I do, and that's what matters here.
   
   Sian has that. It has little bits of wisdom that I didn't know I had, but that writing down make me smile. Previous works did as well. Some have not just added little memes, but changed my outlook on life.

Why do you read? Why do you write? Why don't you do either as you really want to?

(Those of you just joining here, start with Callan and Sian 1)



The sobs ceased. The four sat between the two cars, the two men leaning against the oversized wheel of Locke's behemoth, the two women against the sleek curve of Marcarius' car. Ceili rested her cheek on Ressa's shoulder, her cheeks red, eyes inflamed. Locke and Ressa conversed in glances. Callan patted Ceili's pant leg absent-mindedly while he scanned the pitch-coloured sky and water between and beyond the gaily-lit crafts docked on the quays.

"So what do you see, old friend?" Locke tried to discern what held Callan's interest. "Anything?"

"So many lights out there, pinpoints. One of them could be her."

Locke squinted, face impassive until he blinked back tears. "You sure that's not the moon? Stars, maybe?"

"No, most are buoys. The rest are ships. One of them is the Kestrel Reign. I just can't tell which one."

"Then we wait for him to come back." Without the uptick in trailing tone, Locke's words were a statement. At heart, they weren't.

Callan jabbed his chin toward Marcarius' convertible. "Would you leave a quarter million dollars parked here?"

"Whoa, that's how much it costs?" Ressa jounced Ceili as she lurched away from the car to look at it.

Callan smiled, tight and bitter. "He's been at this a while. I'm sure he didn't win the Kestrel over a baccarat table."

Locke stroked his beard, shaping it into a further point. "I'm not so sure. He's always been one to take risks. I could easily see him earning it."

Callan shook his head. "He's too impulsive. He lets his beast control him. That's never a good thing."

At that, Ceili floated her head free of Ressa, then placed it on her crumpled knees, gathering herself into a small, if upright, ball. "That's not always a bad thing, Callan."

The men both looked at her, confusion evident in their expressions.

"The beast. Brank held it, too. But he knew when to let it go." Her mouth buried behind her legs, only her eyes glowed with that bittersweet smile. "He was more than just control, he was more than just the beast. He was always in-between, and knew when to be where on that line. Not everything is one or the other, you know."

Locke cleared his throat. The sound was soft, his glance at her quite firm.

Callan merely nodded. "That's Brank's for you." A pause. "Was. I can't believe he's..." He looked at Ceili. "I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me."

Ceili shook her head. "No, not at all. To be remembered by a friend, that's never thoughtless." She smiled. "I can't believe he's gone, either."

"If you ask me," Locke said, "The part I'm having the hardest time believing is that Lavender did it." He frowned. "Lamentine. Lavender. Whatever. Why'd you ask her along?"

"She taught me much about Power. I wanted her to be there, to show my gratitude. I couldn't have claimed Sian without what Lavender taught me."

Locke nodded. "Now, she was one who knew how to control Power." He looked out to the sea again. "She not only had a beast, she harnessed it. She rode it just like I ride my Fireglide." He looked at the pier and shook his head slowly with a sigh.

"Guess she let it get away from her." Ressa extended her leg, gave his boot a reassuring kiss with her own. "Like you said, there are only two types of bikers. Those who crashed..." She smiled a tight smile.

"...And those who are going to." He nudged her back, toe to toe. He looked up, back at her and matched her bitter smirk. "Yeah. I guess she let it get out of control. Now what?"

Callan put a hand on the massive tire and wobbled upright. "The Guarde will..." He shrugged, brushed back his jacket and slid his hands into his pockets. "They'll probably be talking to us as well." He looked at the other three. "Just tell them the truth, that it was all my idea."

Locke rose. "See here. You called us all to witness you Present your thrall. What happened after that isn't all your fault."

Ceili took Callan's outstretched hand as she tottered to her feet. "Callan, I don't blame you. I know Brank doesn't blame you,either. No matter where he is," Using his hand as guide, she followed it up to his shoulder and then hugged him. "He won't blame you."

Callan only nodded.

Locke helped Ressa stand as she said. "It's Lavender's fault, love. Not--" Her face froze in surprise. "You don't suppose that's why Fafe didn't show up?"

Locke smiled, "I just figured he was waiting for the appropriate time to pop in."

Callan welcomed the subject change and offered a genuine smile. "You know I've long said he can't walk through space any more than we can. He's just Imperceptible until he drops his Veil."

Ceili moved from Callan's support to Ressa's. "I didn't know that. Then again, I don't remember Brank, uh, talking..." She looked around, not at their faces, but their chests, then bellies, then shoes.

Ressa ran a hand through her hair. "It's okay, love. It's okay to miss him. As you said, 'remembrance is never thoughtless.' We miss him, too."

Ceili murmured something that sounded grateful into Ressa's ear, then turned and inhaled. "What I was saying is, Brank never told me one way or the other about Fafe's abilities. He just never talked about him. I don't think they much got along."

At that, Callan blinked. "They didn't? I'm sorry, I didn't know. I wouldn't have invited him to the Presentation, then."

"No, the one who you shouldn't have--" Ceili clenched her eyes shut, but one tear shone in the yellow lamp. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She ran into the dark.

Ressa looked back and forth between the two men and Ceili's fast-vanishing outline.

"Go, pet. Go." Locke cocked his head in Ceili's direction.

Callan watched the other girl run off. "She's right, you know. I should have never invited Lavender."

"So why did you?"

"I was worried Marcarius would pull something. Which he did. I wanted her there in case we needed some serious Power."

Locke gave Callan a wary glance. "So when you said, 'Something came up,' at the bar... That wasn't exactly a surprise to you, was it?"

"No, not completely." The trill of his cell phone interrupted any further words. He glanced at the Caller ID, then raised an eyebrow. "Hello, Lavender."