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Michelle’s residence, a mansion in any other neighborhood, is divided into condominiums on the first two floors. The third and fourth floors are occupied by Michelle. The ornate home serves as eastern headquarters for Moses and Maurice Abramson. The
RN6 like the other seven consortiums are a worldwide syndicate of cooperating players and competitors. The Abramson brothers one indulgence is football, everything else is strictly business. Moses is the CEO and his brother Maurice the COO. They have
provided long term security for Lisa and Aurian. The RN6 is a black consortium founded for the purpose of constructing innovative technical solutions when building an A-Zero and connecting it to The Zero that interacts with The Origin.
“McBain and Daniels are at home and stabilized.” Michelle speaks hurriedly.
“It’s going to be a toss-up which way this thing breaks; the previous system failure is looming large on the assignment agenda. It’s best if you go
alone. Mr. Eight and Aloysius might be better off at the old castle. Last time we started with
zero political interference and a small crack expanded into a dike breaking fissure. This time we pull every string and involve far too many people purposely and let them muddy their own waters; until they fade away or choke.”
Maurice asked Moses and Michelle simultaneously, “What’s the trajectory for Major Danes?”
Moses replied; “It’s the two mouse gambit. The first mouse gets a broken neck; the second mouse gets to eat the cheese.” Moses reflecting evenly, “The clock we tried to build is a disaster but it did ultimately draw Dr. Vulchario out of hiding
and provide invaluable reconnaissance.”
Moses and Maurice flip a coin to decide the transportation issue. Maurice wins the toss and they go to the bike sheds. The guard lets them in following discreetly twenty paces behind them carrying the inventory manifests. Maurice selects a 1953 Vincent
998cc Black Shadow Series C. from stall seven. Moses is lingering, breathing deeply, trying to find a suitable match; the races odds way heavily on his mind. The top speed he needs leaves him with only one choice, looking over towards the steward of Lisa�
��s collection he sees Maurice; eyes wide, lips pouted and pursed, nodding slowly in the affirmative. Moses chooses the 1929 Montgomery-JAP 1,000cc V-Twin. Moses and Maurice walk over signing the bikes out closing the deal at even money odds.
Michelle opens the two large windows at the southern end of the long wide north-south hall of her third floor residence in the large middle Victorian. From the north she sprints into a vaulting leap her concussive waves absorbed by the Persian rugs and
open rooms with double doors.
Flying down the long corridor she exits the southern windows bound for The Arboretum. The sound she makes when taking flight is a vexation placed on her by Mr. Eight. For dozens of centuries an enormous flash of light used to accompany the report that
occurs between her body style realignment. Aloysius and Augustus found and implemented a curative solution in 1566.
The Abramsons wait at the mouth of the high speed access road that runs parallel to the railroad tracks. Michelle passes overhead and they restart their engines. Moses radios ahead to insure the rear of the troop train is well
lit. A PSI operator at
the train’s rear map room agrees to flag them.
Both the brothers and Michelle must be on the move every solar day to reduce the unwanted momentum that accrues from not always moving in lockstep with a Zero Horizon clock.
Mr. Eights belling of Michelle with a concussive report and blinding white flash is not a subject of open discussion between the rival consortiums; it is a personal matter between Origin Players.
The Abramson’s RN6 Consortium label designates a “Registered Null 6X.” When a new
Zero Horizon is attempted and a failed clock is the final outcome, it cannot simply be blown up; deleted or bypassed, it must be dismantled. The devices Moses and Maurice specialize in are generically referred to as Vortex Paradomes; a construction
technology that injects vacuum pressure conflict ratios inside of hardened spheres to create a volatile object containment device.
The brothers agree to a rolling start. At thirty miles per hour they wave and
accelerate. The run from the air force base to the end of the train is over quick with Moses winning by two bike lengths. The trains brake man agrees to mind the bikes. A
pedestrian path to the gate is marked with blue phosphorescent cones. All of the ten level ramps from the chrome AR20 box cars are lowered now, disgorging highly organized groups of AR20 Special Forces, moving towards the white fluorescence of the four
Body Fortresses, used as keys for this side of the 2085 gate.
The AR20 Consortium builds state of the art transportation and communications
networks in a unique way. They exit The Construct escaping The Totality and initiate the circular fundamental processes that only The Origin can detect. Views of The Origin
run a wide gamut of perspectives from complete disbelief, to scientific theorization, to theological and religious contemplation.
In AR20 disbelievers are referred to as drone intelligences, scientific theorists are referred to as scout intelligences, religious contemplators are labeled explorer intelligences. The AR20 runs each version of its constructs for eighteen billion
natural years. The Earth is used primarily as a reference for small to medium increments of duration. The AR20 transacts routine business with The Origin according to basic laws and rules: it has modeled many of its processes on the behaviors it has
encountered; and studied from interacting with an abstract intelligence, which has its own volition and procedures; and is logically presumed to predate the AR20 Consortium.
Maurice and Moses nearing the Oldwood Station are excited to see Father McCredie and Sister Francis have invited Brother Aesop and Friar Dormante to serve as bridge vouchers for the 2085 gate opening. Sister Francis is blearily watching the four large
Body Fortress vehicles walk towards the gate. The SF Troops relentless thrumming on the vibrating ground is unnerving her.
Francis glowers menacingly, “My two Fairfield Grizzlies out of uniform and free of curfews.” Both brothers enter a half-crouch assuming a dummy thrust position pumping their legs. Francis walks up to them assaultively, “Hooligans!” They hug the
tiny nun they once tossed back and forth as boys, gently setting her dainty, red haired, blue eyed motherly countenance back down.
“Hooking back up with the time mafia Mother Francis?” Maurice asks sheepishly.
“I’ve had enough of those three wee bell devils to last a thousand lifetimes. I would rather be drawn and quartered, keel hauled and my soft parts
fed to sharks than set eyes on those imps.”
Francis said the same of Moses and Maurice many times but bought them their first football. The old nun is growing frailer by the year and both Abramsons wish she could live on forever.
“The mucky mucks are out and about tonight.” Moses offers conversationally.
Francis smiled “How many of those spy guys are they going to train up and toss down the stairs before they pick one? That PSI bunch is an indecisive outfit. Come say some hellos now.”
The two healthy middle aged clergymen were both smoking cigarettes and drinking from pocket flasks, enthralled to be witnesses for the evenings activities but wary of such a prideful display of power. Friar Dormante, the boys grade school science
teacher, gave a long warm hug to both Moses and Maurice before introducing them
to The Vatican’s chief archivist, the shy soft spoken BrotherAesop Mercurius;
only four hours off of a plane from Rome to Oldham AFB.

The rumbling of the tiny footed army sparks Moses imagination to his current ruminations.
Moving cautiously in the presence of Aesop and Francis and hoping not to be perceived as to mercenary or Machiavellian by his old science teacher; Moses begins relating his woes softly.
Moses nervously halting, "Dormante I have a terrible dilemma. I need some sort of pretext to get Trevor out to the Grand Canyon. Maybe you could help with some type of special delivery to the astronomical observatory." Maurice was wide eyed, lips drawn
tight with modest hopes.
Dormante, "It’s not really the churches business to be getting involved in a dispute between Evangelina Hossattanus and one of her he-devils even if he is
baptized. I wouldn't know how to go about it. If I ask for permission it could be the end of me.
If I do it without permission, it could be the end of me. If I don't do it and
they ever found out you asked and wished in hindsight I would have done it for you; it could be the end of me again. So your modest dilemma would create a monstrous: two sins
of commission, and one sin of omission, failure bind for me.”
Maurice chimes in humbly to support Moses encouraged by Dormante’s hedging:

“Back in the day when Professor Vulchario was stalking us children we would
sometimes be afraid to leave the orphanage; Sister Francis often said to us, "The Lord hates a coward."”
Aesop was following the bartering of favors smiling; encouraging Dormante to proceed.
“There are many allusions to indecision in the two books Moses. Give me till the end of the night and I'll have a plan for you of some sort or another.” Dormante patted his shoulder.
Maurice turned towards the newcomer Aesop hoping for an answer to a question carried for a lifetime and never answered convincingly by either his childhood or adult teachers.
Maurice donning a reserved seriousness “Brother Aesop, if they threw Enoch’s maps of heaven out of the bible, why did they never toss out John The
Revelator’s maps of heaven too?”
At the rear of the troop train three brake men carefully load Lisa Templeton’s two vintage motorcycles into the wide caboose used as a map and radio room. A PSI Captain gives the thumbs up to the AR20 radio operator. “All clears reverse. Bugs and
Elmer are aboard.”
All radio information on interactions of Aurian Tatianni and Lisa Templeton with the 2085 system is coded as Temple Toons to separate it from Lisa’s daily Secret Service radio chatter.
Michelle arrives at The Arboretum. Her; Frank, Alex and Gus set out on foot for the station.
Reaching the middle bench house of the baroque bridge Michelle stops. “Good luck.”
The four men arrive at the busy station and 2085 gate to see the ten level ramps retracted into
the chrome boxcars, the five forward engines carefully applying tension; straining to maintain a backward speed of less than one mile per hour. Approaching the Old Chief and Major Ted all four men are relieved to see Danes is deemed rational enough not
to be restrained.
“You’re looking good Ted!” Augustus says heartily, handing Ted his prized canvas map rolled and replaced in its tube, after it was left behind, in
the rush to toss him into the deep waters of the intraphase business structures. Ted takes the tube
warily, scrupulously checking its contents.
“I see our two fine admirals of the fleet are fashionably late to their own
party as usual.”
Gus snatches a sitting length spot between the chief and major patting Danes on
the knee picking up a three inch private from the ranks, “Deadly little buggers,” and setting him discreetly down.
“How long have you been here?” Danes monotone alerts Augustus to his state of sedation.
“I build something, enter a zero and emerge a few seconds later, and hundreds of years have passed. So how long is a relative question. My chips are
on your side of the table. If the board of directors of Protected States Intelligence doesn’t pick
and keep a CEO soon your whole PSI Consortium goes belly up. So consider the stakes and pull yourself together. Are you a soldier?”
A triple flash of the train lights on the receding troop transport alerts the
Old Chief to begin.
The large one and one quarter million ground force assembled fashions a narrow path for the chief to approach the temporary platform. Two Falcons screeching overhead herald the arrival of Azrok Steppe and Juzya Kydd. They land two feet from the 2085
barrier, Juzya Kydd receiving a lightmach paradome tuning kit from The Chief.
The bridge is a three-quarter oval thirty-two feet high and sixteen feet wide lightmach intersect.
Azrok busies himself using a large pocket magnifying glass to examine the train tracks used as a failed conglomeration of loops that tried to build A Zero Circle around a Zero Point. Azrok finds a hollow central ridge in the tracks that contains six
sets of miniaturized tracks. He swiftly estimates a thousand set of tracks could be concealed as momentum subways inside the rails.
The looping miniature railway branches off the north south line forming a large
containment circle between the two rivers. This installation bears an uncanny resemblance to Train World.
The PSI Consortium and their sponsors the National Intelligence Directorate monitor both the straight run of track and the western loop. Periodic incursions from lightmach-24 are managed by NID snipers and special recovery teams from the Oldham Air
Force Base SRT trainee pool.
From this temporary 2085 bridge on lightmach-23 Juzya Kydd instructs his ship
The Manta directly. His commands pass through the gate to his ship stationed above the failed zero on the other side. The Manta on lightmach-24 floating above the failed
zero relays Juzya’s instructions to the Zero Horizons in The Skytrax on lightmach-25; completing a three level abridgement.
The main zero gate failure is one mile further down the rail bed past this temporary 2085 gate. The failed clock used a dual gate system that was directly routed to The Skytrax when it failed.
The use of miniature, medium and large trains is Mr. Eight’s most frequent modus operandi.
This surgical procedure to correct a malfunction is sanctioned and supervised by an investment of The Essence and The Presence of The 2085. The mission is to
re-establish an inward outward intersecting movement of the underlying information flows that
create the animating rhythums, balances, and intraphased momentums of basic existence; from abstract objects to conscious life.
Azrok helps Juzya move the four Body Fortresses close to the gate in a straight line, shoulder to shoulder, to cross the gate. The momentum stored in each Body Fortress's electromagnetic skin technology is enough to cross the temporary gate and the
failed gate four times. He has only three crossings left, after repositioning the protective skins down to lightmach-23, having consumed one crossing to load
the rescue and evacuation gear on the tracks; he now has three quarters of each
body fortress’
s momentum remaining to expend.
He holds his arm through the silvery translucent gate and calls out.
“Activate One Ultima One.”
“Activate One Ultima Zero.”
“Activate Zero Ultima One.”
The gates border transitions to thin lines of interwoven black and gold that sheds a copper mist.
He looks at the Old Chief waiting for the go signal.
The leader of AR20 silently addresses his assembled expeditionary force.

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