License Invoked

"It was a splendid concert," Patrick Jones said, jumping in. He'd been eavesdropping, and was clearly embarrassed by Fio

"Well, we're going in to breakfast, now," Fio

Furious, Liz withdrew without a word. She had thought after all their hard work Green Fire might at least invite them to breakfast. She watched Lloyd open the door at the rear of the bar. Fio

Oh, well, Liz thought, trying to be philosophical about the situation. Fio

She wasn't doing a very good job of convincing herself. Of all the miserable females who ever walked the earth, Phoebe Kendale took the biscuit.

"Don't worry," Boo said, coming up beside her and touching her arm. "I've got somethin' better for you." He tilted his head toward the door. They left the rest of the band exulting in their successful appearance.

But they did not escape unobserved. The sharp eyes of Michael Scott spotted them as they were about to leave. The slim figure rose from its place among the others, and followed them into the lobby.

"Wait," he called out to them. Liz stopped, hopeful. Michael strode to catch up. He smiled at them.

"That group of ingrates won't say thanks, but I will. You were, well, marvelous. Miraculous, really."

"All part of the job, sir," Liz said, briskly. She was still a little hurt by Fee's indifference.

"No more of the `sir,' please, Liz," he said, with the little smile she adored. The golden lights in the lobby lit up his hair like a halo. "It's Michael to you, now and forever. Fee may be a tough bird to handle—and I'm dyin' to know how you know so much about her—but we love her. She's special. You've done good work, both of you."

"Thanks," Boo-Boo said. "Happy to have been of service."

"Give me your cards. You're both welcome at any of our concerts whenever we pass through. If you can still stand us, that is."

"Of course I can," Liz said, in love with him all over again. "I didn't get to appreciate this one properly."

"If it wasn't for you, it wouldn't have happened at all," Michael said firmly. "I might not still be here to thank you. Perhaps one day we can sit down and talk about what happened—what really happened. I'll be getting back now. God bless." He bent and gave Liz a kiss on the cheek, shook hands with Boo. He slipped away again into the bar. A little of the light seemed to go out of the room with him.

Liz sighed. Well, perhaps there were a few rewards for virtuous agents.

Augustus Kingston shuffled disconsolately through the ruins of Studio A. The girders were still in place, but the acoustic ceiling tiles had cascaded down in pieces all over the floor. His beautiful television station had been destroyed, along with his plans for world domination.

It had looked for a while as though his place in the Council was assured. When the members had arrived, dressed in their red silk robes over thousand-dollar power suits, he'd had the stage set for success. He'd been proud of his attention to detail. The altar was the same one they used for the afternoon talk show. The thirteen black candles in holders made from the skulls of small animals were cast of human tallow. Everything had been just right. He was ready to catch the whole ceremony on videotape.

There they'd stood, waiting for the chosen hour. Kingston had quivered with anticipation under his postulant's robe of red-dyed camel hair. The needle on the special receiver rose higher and higher until it pi

The Council members expected to be bathed in glory, but it was more like standing in a meteor shower. Sparks shot everywhere, setting fire to his precious props: the altar, the black silk hangings, the posters, and worst of all, the gauge that told them how much money the ongoing telethon had raised for Satan. He remembered the disbelief on their faces as they could smell the sticky, gooey love wrapping around the rush of power, three times as much as they expected. Howling, the men batted at their arms and robes in disgust, unable to bear the purity. The love and happiness were overwhelming. The men, powerful black magicians in their own right, started spi

Kingston tried to turn the receiver off, but he couldn't get near it for the force of the energy flow. The grand master had ordered the members to cha

Within minutes, it was all over. Without saying a word, the Council, covered in confetti, crumbled acoustical tile and broken glass, had filed out into the night. The last to leave had been Eldredge Mooney. He'd given Kingston a look that could have killed.

After seeing the morning national news Kingston almost wished it had. Fio

Three million dollars down the tube. The plan had been so perfect! How could it have failed? What the hell had happened to his focus person and his conduit?

The receptionist's voice came thinly through the hole in the wall. The public address system had blown out with everything else.

"Telephone for you, Mr. Kingston."

Nervously, Kingston picked up the telephone receiver.

"Hello, Eldredge. Yes, I was expecting to hear from you. No, I can't explain it. You can't blame me for that. I had everything set up just the way we pla

"You must be out of your mind!" Mooney bellowed. Kingston removed the receiver from his ear to frown. "Don't ever call me again!" The co

"Well, to hell with the rest of you, too!" he snarled.

It was all going to be so beautifully evil, and now his dreams were wrecked. Kingston looked at the mess, not even knowing where to begin cleaning it up.

What in hell was he going to do for the morning broadcast?

Liz scraped up the sweet apricot sauce on the deep plate with her fork.

"This is very nice of you," she said, looking across the white tablecloth at Boo, whose clothes looked shabbier than ever in the genteel ambience of the dark wood paneled restaurant. "Even I've heard of having breakfast at Bre