Fenie Hawkeye sat at a long dining table, joined by three of her colleagues. The table was made of an ancient wood but still in remarkable condition. She sipped her soup as she listened to a conversation between her peers. The four were seated close to each other at the center of the table, leaving twelve empty chairs to the left and right. Her close friends Wilder and Petr were discussing the most recent events concerning a Driver named Emilio Sanchez. Silverware clattered on the antediluvian table as the group consumed their supper. The purple-shaded wood had suffered through many tense suppers, but none such as this. "I understand that his superior, Raemus, is still conducting an investigation." Wilder said, his brows furrowed. "Is there any chance that something fruitful will turn up? Do we know where or when he went?" Wilder sat, hunched forward, with his palms turned upward as he asked. "This is terrible." Wilder was an older man, appearing in his 50's. He wore a loose-fitting dinner jacket and a scarf around his neck. The scarf was violet and was positioned to show a chakra across his throat. He had short, wavy brown hair that was parted in the middle. He also had a beard that varied between grey and white. Normally, he was calm and sure. Not today. This was the most agitated he had been in a long time. "Wilder, please, we simply don't have the data to assume one way or the other. The best I can say is that he has gone into a wormhole of some kind...but the data we received from our satellites shows an anomaly that I've never seen in wormholes." Petr said. "Besides, I'm not a physicist." The chair creaked as Petr leaned back and raised his hands over his head as if to physically deflect Wilder's questions. Petr wore a grey sport coat with a shirt and tie. When he wasn't eating, he was seated in his chair with perfect posture. Wilder seemed to be the oldest of the group, close to 70 years old. He was completely bald, thin, and his hands shook when he used them to communicate. He always had a look of concentration or tension on his face. "Fenie, what are your thoughts?" asked Petr. He looked as though he expected an answer. Fenie took another sip and placed her spoon down in its proper place without making a sound. "Gentlemen, I don't know." She said as she folded her hands on the table. "What I do know is that Drivers don't just make wormholes and Sanchez had no way to guess where one would appear. He wasn't programmed with that information, so it resides nowhere in his code. Rightly so, as we haven't seen a wormhole in over 200 years." She took a sip of wine and shifted her eyes back and forth as her mind searched for data. "Would it be possible to re-create this event?" she looked up and asked. Fenie appeared to be the youngest of the group, possibly late 30's in age. She had sandy-blonde hair, that was tied in a ponytail, and wore circular eyeglasses that had a pair of piercing green eyes behind them. Fenie often sported a semi-grin that would mistakenly communicate mischief, but it was simply part of her demeanor. "No." said Petr. "Only because we don't know if Sanchez modified the shuttle before take-off. He could have altered circuitry or installed parts...which could explain the odd data readings we received." He continued. "I'll return to calculations. It's been a long time since I've had a real problem to figure out.” Fenie replied. "What about the search team we assembled to investigate Titan?" asked Wilder, looking at both Fenie and Petr. "They will arrive on the moon in 18 hours." replied Petr. "From there they will retrace the steps of both Sanchez and Elias going back a full month." he continued. "One of my children will be there to oversee the investigation. I don't trust Raemus or his co-officers to do it, since they've done nothing but muddle this to a maddening degree.” He sipped his drink as he rolled his eyes. "We've needed to correct hundreds of Lowlings before...but this issue with Sanchez, Elias, and even Raemus, disturbs me. How is it possible we've had deviations in two completely different Drivers at the same time? Moreover, why has Raemus shown such brazen defiance?" Petr calmed himself by rubbing the center of his forehead with his knuckles. "I promise - If I get a headache over this, I will wipe out Raemus' entire line." "I don't like how quickly this has spiraled out of control. There has to be more going on than we know." said Wu. Wu normally remained quiet during these discussions but today he was agitated. "We need to make a decision and quickly." he said. Wu was nearly as old as Petr and looked similar, however, he wore glasses and had several age spots on his forehead. White hair clung to the rear of his skull and went down to the top of his neck. Wu was also the only member of this group of Asian descent - a long dead cultural line of Humanity. As Wu finished speaking, Chars walked into the dining room and moved to sit down. "Hello, everyone - anything new regarding Sanchez?" he asked as he sat. Wu responded "No, Chars. But we have a search team en route to recover any necessary data. You should inform Raemus that he is being reassigned to the Neptinian moon, Triton. All three, actually: Raemus, Anderson, and Kadrin. Effective immediately." he said. The others nodded in agreement. Chars pulled out a small note pad and jotted his notes, then returned the pad to his chest pocket so that he could begin his supper. Chars had the most impressive facial hair of the men. His beard, white and pointed, stretched down to his chest and made him look like a sorcerer. He wore a dark brown suit with a white shirt and a red bow tie. His suit had seen better days, though Chars was never neat. "Wonderful. I'll be certain to relay his orders through the necessary channels...or would you rather we summoned him to Central Core so the mouths may issue these orders?" Chars had placed a dinner napkin across his lap and was eyeing his soup approvingly. "No need for pomp and circumstance for these orders, Chars. It would delay his arrival and interfere with our investigation on Titan." Wu said. Petr and Wilder nodded in agreement. Chars almost had his spoon into his soup but stopped short and darted his eyes at Wu. He didn't raise his head, so it appeared that he was looking almost through the top of his eye sockets. "What will we be investigating on Titan, Wu? Is this more vitriol aimed at my progeny?" Chars' tone was laced with venom. Wu sighed obvious exasperation. "Chars, please, we have been through this with all our deviations. Yours are not safe from protocol. You know this." Wu said, reassuringly. Chars took a sip from his soup and savored it. After a few seconds, the tension in his body dissipated. "I apologize, Wu. It's been a long week for all of us and I didn't intend to insinuate that you were any less affected." Chars said. Wu smiled genuinely. "Apology accepted, old friend." While the others discussed the delinquent creations, Avis stood outside the dining room behind a closed door. In between the group's comments, he tapped furiously with his right hand on the inside of his left forearm. Underneath his skin, several symbols glowed and quickly faded as he tapped them. Avis was in his 40's and displayed a beard almost as impressive as Chars', with skin that looked, and had the texture, of leather. He wore an off-white multi-layered robe with a matching turban on his head. He dictated furiously as his hands tried to keep up with the conversation. When the conversation had moved on from Sanchez, he stopped tapping and waited as his forearm lit up in a sequence of symbols. As he interpreted the returning symbols, his face grew dark and his muscles tensed as he looked inward. After a few moments of thinking, Avis turned and walked away from the dining hall towards his study and meditation chamber. As he walked, he whispered "It's time." over and over. --- A few hours later, Chars entered his study, kicked his sofa, cursed, and then turned his lamp on. In the lit room, he saw a folded piece of paper on his floor. He picked it up, unfolded it and read. Chars sat heavily in his old chair and breathed out hard. After rubbing his eyes, he said to himself "It's time."