At least that`s where I aimed. But I`d never fired an assault rifle before and the shot went wide--and an instant after I pulled the trigger, gunfire erupted all around. Plywood splintered and the noise drove a spike of iron into my headache.

　　The orbs dragged me back into the passageway and I heard the man, PJ, yelling, "Hold your fire, hold your fire!"

　　The shooting stopped and I backpedaled in a panic, smashing scaffolding and planks with the orbs, trying to block pursuit. Trying to keep them contained, too. I figured I`d find a place to hide, and pick them off from the shadows with the orbs.

　　Only one problem: the aftereffects of that flashbang still lingered. I felt drowsy and disoriented and that nasty stench burned my nostrils--not like seaweed so much as like rancid meat dissolving in battery acid.

　　Twenty feet from the big room, I crouched behind a tarp, waiting for my head to clear and my heart to stop galloping.

　　PJ called out, "C`mon out, kid, we`ve got to talk."

　　I shook my head to clear the cobwebs.

　　"I`ll tell you what I`m going to do," PJ called, in a friendly baritone. "I`ll send the fellas away." He raised his voice: "You all hear that? Gather the wounded and clear out! Me and Mrs. Spandle got everything under control."

　　Rustling sounded in the shadows, along with a soft groan and the clink of metal.

　　Even disoriented, I managed to track the soldiers withdrawing toward a tarp on the middle level, then disappearing into an alcove. Not an alcove, a door that opened into the sub-basement of a neighboring building. So much for containing them.

　　My mind felt sluggish, my tongue thick. I sagged limply against a plywood wall. Whatever PJ was planning, sending the soldiers away was good for me. It`s always better not to be surrounded by angry men with grudges and guns. Maybe we could work this out.

　　I took a deep breath, then exhaled.

　　"That`s right," PJ said. "Now it`s just you and me and Mrs. Spandle. No reason to fret. You hear me?"Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

　　I shifted but didn`t answer.

　　"Listen," he called. "I know I`m doing this all wrong. You don`t have to tell me that, I know I`m a screw-up." His low laugh came from all around. "So I apologize for doing this back-assward, but there`s two things you ought to know. One, this is sanctioned, this is legal. Completely above-board. I am a duly-appointed agent of our duly-elected federal government. You hear what I`m saying? You understand?"

　　In my quiet nook, I nodded.

　　"And two, when I woke up this morning I had no idea you existed. I mean, that`s unbefrigginglievable. You got a bunch of what? Yo-yos? Are they attached to you? I`m sitting here, my mind is blown." A short pause. "So are they? Are they attached?"

　　The weight of his words settled on my shoulders, the rancid stench infiltrated my lungs. I shook my head in answer, but managed to stay silent.

　　His laugh came again. "You also, I should mention, missed me entirely with an AK burst at thirty feet, you`ve gotta be the crappiest shot I`ve seen outside of a home for the visually impaired. Still, that`s cold, shooting at a guy in the middle of a sentence, you ought to watch that temper." A pause. "What was I saying?"

　　Mrs. Spandle murmured softly.

　　"That`s right, your yo-yos. Yeah, if I`d known about them, I would`ve made you a job offer. Medical, dental, and a signing bonus. How`re your teeth, huh? That shit gets expensive. So I admit we got off on the wrong foot, but hey, water under the bridge." He paused, and I heard him breathing. "Tell me what you`re thinking."

　　"Um," I mumbled.

　　"Speak up, kid! My ears are still ringing."

　　"Where`s Dewitt?" I called.

　　"Where are you? I can`t hear you. Come out, come out wherever you are."

　　That sounded reasonable; he sounded reasonable. He`d sent the soldiers away, and just wanted to talk. Frankly, I couldn`t think of a better plan. Maybe after I explained what was going on, he`d just send Dewitt home. Probably. Why wouldn`t he? Why send some kind of paramilitary extraction team for a chubby handyman?

　　So I crawled from my nook, holding the rifle at my side. Everything felt dull and far away. I backtracked until I found them in a sort of niche abutting the building`s foundation. PJ lounged on a spool of wire and the woman stood beside him, her expression placid as a breeze ruffled one stray lock of her hair. Standing under a vent shaft or something.

　　"That`s better," PJ said, spreading his hands wide when he saw me. "Now we can talk face to face. Look at me, kid, I`m unarmed, we both are. Mrs. Spandle wouldn`t hurt a fly anyway. Am I right?"

　　"Not a fly," she said.

　　"Let me see one of those yo-yos," he told me.

　　So I sent an orb to hover in front of him. I mean, why not?

　　"Christ on a cranberry." PJ shook his head in amazement. "Talk about no strings attached."

　　He laughed, and I found myself smiling along. Then I remembered a vague worry. "Uh. Where`s Dewitt?"

　　"Back at the ranch."

　　"Oh."

　　"A little groggy, but he`s like you--he listened to reason." PJ stood from the spool, light on his feet for such a big guy. "Come closer. We`re all friends here. Give me your weapon."

　　So what I did was, I walked over to him and handed him the assault rifle. I couldn`t think of a single reason not to.