[u][i][b]The Meeting Room[/b][/i][/u]

Rozalind looked curiously at the dog, then shifted her eyes toward Dzel. “Does it need to go out?” 

The American military men returned, one had a quiet but visible reaction to the images on the screen.

Mallaidh explained that the sword was hers. And asked for it to be returned.

Rozalind could tell that the sword meant a great deal to the girl. She chose her words carefully. “It is close by, and safe. We are studying it at the moment. We thought it had belonged to the ritualists. It seems to be the murder weapon. If it is truly yours we have no reason to keep it from you longer than necessary. When was the last time you saw it?”

She looked to the others. “The rest of you, please be clear: Which items do you recognize? Do you all recognize the sword? Is there something else here that belongs to you? Did you recognize any of the bodies?” 

She looked to the dog. “Do you understand me? Is it the sword? Back when I point to the thing you recognize.” Rozalind would trail her finger across the projection over the various items waiting to see if the husky responded.

[u][i][b]In Herbert’s infirmary room[/b][/i][/u]

Twain sighed and looked at the little ball of light. “Bring a man back from the dead and still I don’t get a lunch break!” He clapped his hands together and sat up on the floor, adressing the light.

“Look, little sprite. I can’t let you do that. See, you have NO idea what I just did or how difficult it was. I’m sure there isn’t much I could do to stop you. This capsule we exist in is only made of metal and you are made of… Plasma or some shit… Whatever lightsabers are made of... Anyway, we are one-thousand-leagues-under-the-sea if you know what I mean. If you did that this whole thing would pop like a balloon and we would all die. Maybe not you, but the rest of us need… Air… You know… To live...”

“Now. If I die, I can’t properly brag about what I just accomplished! If you kill me I’m going to be damn pissed.” He balled his hands into fists and crossed his arms.

“And don’t think that just because I’m dead I’m going to let you alone about that.” He still smiled, but, in his eyes some dark truth was brooding. 

But, the light was already going. Twain didn’t know how much of his words she had heard or cared about.

“Fuck.” Twain, exhausted, fell back onto his back onto the floor with a sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to haunt all your asses.”

In the room now was only himself, Herbert, and the drunken monk and xiii. "You heard the little thing." He said to the monk. "Drink up while you still can. Soon we will all have nothing to taste but salt water."