It didn’t seem possible, somehow.

A few moments ago, he had been standing in a special clearance wing, just off of the U.N. Building in New York City. Now he was standing on a street in New Orleans, not too far from the French Quarter. He had traveled over a thousand miles in less time than it took to blink.

It had only been two days since he had met Jacob, an angelic being who had interrupted a meeting with the Protectorate with disturbing news -- a nest of vampires had been discovered in New Orleans, a nest lead by Vamp. There was speculation that Vamp was a member of the Royal Elite, the very group Alex was hoping the Protectorate would help him fight. Alex had agreed to help Jacob with the New Orleans problem, hoping that, if he could bring down one of the Royal Elite, they might get the idea that he wasn’t a suitable candidate for membership.

He had spent the last couple of days preparing for what was to come

Two days earlier.

Alex stepped out of the elevator into his flat and checked his messages. He had not heard from Sarah and hoped that she was doing alright. In his efforts to learn as much as he could about vampires from the Protectorate, he had forgotten to inquire about Sarah and her week of training with them.

There were three messages waiting. The first was from the tailor's, wanting to let him know that his order was complete and that it would be sent out today.

The second was from Sarah. "Alex, it's Sarah. I'm still in Philly, unfortunately, and I'm not sure when I'm going to finish things up with Dr. Wight. I... just wanted to let you know that I'm still interested in seeing you at the end of the month, hopefully on the weekend before New Year's. I'm going to be in South Carolina with my parents at Christmas, but I should be back in New York on the 28th. So if you're still up for a concert or whatever, I am. Anyway, I hope you're doing okay, and haven't been kidnapped by the Royal Elite or anything. Talk to you soon -- bye!"

Alex smiled and checked his travel itinerary for his trip home. He wasn't really due back until the 29th but he was sure he could change the return date.

The last was from his mother wanting to confirm his travel arrangements for the holidays. Alex decided to wait a while before calling home. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to explain his reason for wanting to come home a day early.

Alex picked up the phone and dialed Sarah's number. As luck would have it, he got her answering machine as well.

"Hello Sarah. I'm sorry I missed your call. As it happens, I'll be returning from London on the 28th. I'd love to get together, maybe Friday the 29th? There's a 'Pre-Real-Millennium' concert that's happening that night, if I remember correctly. I hope you're able to finish things up in time for Christmas. I'll be in New Orleans for the next couple of days, lending a hand to someone I met at the Protectorate -- an intersting chap. He looks like a textbook depiction of an angel. Anyway, I'll try to catch you again before I leave for London. And don't worry about the Royal Elite. I'll be travelling in disguise. I have some glasses and a novelty nose right here...  Take care -- bye."

Over the course of the afternoon, he had begun to realize just how dangerous things could get. He had known that his decision to help Jacob with the vampire problem was going to be risky but now that knowledge was beginning to sink in. He knew that he would need a little more protection than would be afforded by an overcoat -- and he didn’t like his only option for added protection.

Alex took off his coat and headed for his bedroom. There was something he kept hidden in a trunk -- something he had promised himself would never see the light of day. It annoyed him that he was about to break that promise.

Climbing the spiral staircase to his room, he nearly changed his mind three times. Stepping into the large, walk-in closet, he headed for the heavy, old, steamer trunk that stood stoically against the wall. Alex lifted it easily and walked out into his bedroom. Placing it on his bed, he undid the latches that kept the lid tightly closed. Alex took a deep breath and, holding it, lifted the lid.

Inside, in a plastic bag similar to what one would get from the dry cleaners, was a one-piece bodysuit. Taped to the bag was a typed note that Alex had politely acknowledged some time ago and then had ignored completely. It read:

Alex,

I regret that I was unable to have the opportunity to work with you here at the Ministry. I’ve had the opportunity to read over your files, or at least those portions that my security clearance allowed, and I have to say that I’m fascinated by your abilities on a variety of levels. If time had permitted, I’m sure that we could have made a few more interesting discoveries.

In any case, Pewitt has left me to my own devices while he attends to the placement of a sensor array or some such. I’ve used the time to cobble together a couple of things that I’m sure that you’ll find useful eventually. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to him -- he doesn’t seem to see my ideas in a favorable light

First, I’ve put together a costume that I was able to have made from some concept sketches that I found in one of your older files. I understand you are not overly fond of the idea of wearing a costume but this one should serve you in other ways. It was made to protect you from most small arms fire and may offer a little more protection than that -- I didn’t have enough time to fully test it but the theories behind it are sound. It’s designed mostly to protect your vital areas while allowing you a good deal of freedom of movement. What that translates to is this: don’t step in front of any subway trains -- it’ll hurt a lot.

The second thing is actually a compact MP3 player. The unit is small enough to fit neatly into a small pouch that is located inside the costume just below the treble clef design on the left breast. You’ll find a small assortment of chips that you can plug into the player. Each chip should be good for about fifteen to twenty minutes of music. I’ve tried for as wide an assortment of music as possible in the little time that I had.

There are some small speakers for the unit. When worn -- they hook over the ears -- the speakers will rest just behind your ears. This way, you should be able to hear the music well enough without hindering your ability to hear what is happening around you. To activate the player, just tap the treble clef twice. Do the same to deactivate it. I’ve done my best to insulate the unit from hard impact but it probably won’t withstand more than one good hit. I may be able to improve on this in the future, if Pewitt gives me the chance -- or at least stays off my back for a few days

Again, I know this really isn’t your bag but I think this stuff will be useful if you give it a chance. I hope that we will have the chance to work together in the future.

Sincerely,

Xavier Kingston

He set the note aside and pulled the costume from the bag. It was largely black in color with white ‘gauntlets’. The collar was also white and extended down, v-shaped, to a point just above his abdomen. It looked more or less like a stylized tuxedo, evidently someone’s idea of a clever play on his codename -- Maestro. There was even a gold-colored treble clef placed at about the same point a pocket might have been on an actual tux.

He found the music player and was impressed with the way it was constructed, despite his feelings about its potential usefulness. He looked through the handful of chips that were in a small bag attached to the unit with a rubber band. Each was neatly labeled: Classical, Jazz/Big Band, Ballads, Folk Music, Techno/Dance and -- Alex grinned at the last one -- Good, Old-fashioned, Kick-ass Rock ‘n’ Roll. The speakers were much smaller than he would have guessed.

He noted that, in addition to hooking over his ears as the note had said, they also possessed small adhesive tabs to help keep them in place. He put them on and noticed that they were virtually invisible unless you knew they were there to begin with. He activated the mp3 player to see how well they worked. The quality of the sound was amazing, despite the size of the speakers. He was intrigued and knew he would ultimately have to ask Xavier how this little feat of engineering had been achieved.

He got undressed and, after taking a moment to figure out how to get into it, put the costume -- his costume -- on. It fit rather well considering that he had never been properly fitted for it. Xavier’s talents were evidently quite extensive. Overall, he wasn’t entirely displeased with the costume -- until he got a look at himself in the mirror.

“Oh bloody hell” He sighed. “Maybe I can pick up an old overcoat to wear over the thing”

He could just imagine what Sarah would say if she ever saw it. He cringed a little, partly at the thought of all of the comments she would make and partly because he hadn’t been entirely truthful about owning a costume. He had flat out denied having one.

It’s not like I’ve ever worn it or anything. This is the first time it’s seen the light of day since I received it, he thought, justifying his actions to himself. For all intents and purposes, I still don’t have a costume -- just something to wear this once -- like a rental for a masked ball, or something.

Alex sighed again and took it off, draping it over the back of a chair.

“With a little luck, she’ll never have to know I’ve got it, let alone see me wearing it”

The next day, Alex reviewed what he’d learned about vampires. Paragon had compiled a veritable encyclopedia of information from the Protectorate database and had forwarded the information to Alex’s system at home. It took Alex a while to filter through the information. It had been compiled from historical catalogues, unearthed journals, Dr. Wight's manuals on the supernatural, and actual Protectorate field reports. Once he had sifted through it and gotten the volume of information down to a more manageable size, Alex discovered some rather interesting tidbits about vampires.

It seemed that "real" vampires are not much different to the ones of fiction and myth. They were supernatural beings, parasitic by nature, with superhuman attributes and a fatal weakness to sunlight. However, holy symbols, as a general rule, didn't work against them. There were some instances in the historical records where individuals holding strong religious convictions were able to keep a vampire at bay, but the feats were attributed to the individuals rather than the holy symbols of their respective faiths. These tales were latched onto and actually spread by The Church as a propoganda device to increase the number of "believers." Garlic was a mild bane to vampires, and, apparently, was a standard bane to all supernatural creatures.

Another interesting fact Alex garnered about vampires was that when they died their bodies underwent a strange chemical reaction and they ultimately dissolved; some vampires combusted while others merely shriveled, but the end result is that there's nothing left of them.

Dr. Wight’s notes concluded that this is some form of Darwinian adaptation, being that if a vampire's body was vanished when it died, there would be no evidence left to prove that it ever existed -- a fairly effective form of self-preservation for vampires as a whole. Vampires had been known to die by being exposed to direct sunlight, being impaled by a wooden stake, and being decapitated. Fire has also been known to kill vampires, but apparently they were no more susceptible to it than humans.

After several hours of reading, Alex decided to give his eyes a rest and worked out in his gym. Once he was warmed up, he took out a couple of machetes that were hanging in the storage closet located at one end of the room. He cued up some music and began to practice a few maculêlê routines. Maculêlê was a sort of dance form used in capoeira, evolved from the art’s African roots, that used sticks as symbolic weapons. During the slave trade in Brazil, the sticks were often replaced by the machetes used in cutting sugar cane.

Alex preferred the use of sticks but knew the blades were likely to be of greater use in New Orleans. The extra practice would hopefully minimize the consequences of a missed blow. He practiced for a couple of hours before he was strongly -- and loudly -- reminded by his stomach that he hadn’t eaten for quite a while.

He finished practicing and headed into the kitchen to make lunch. He didn’t bother making too many plans for an extended absence. He was only planning to be gone a couple of days if everything went well. If everything didn’t go well Alex let the thought go and cleaned up.

He did call his mother in London to make sure everything was all right and to assure her that he was doing well, aside from being able to keep up with the housework. The dust had a way of building up when he wasn’t looking -- almost certainly the work of some supervillain with a grudge against tidiness in general. They chatted a little while and he confirmed that he would be home for Christmas.

Alex found that he was looking forward to seeing his both his mother and his home again and began to feel a slight touch of nostalgia. It bothered him that, if the New Orleans affair didn’t go well, he might not get to see home again. Putting the thought out of his mind, he said good bye to his mother and hung up.

Tomorrow morning, bright and early, he was due to meet Lioness and another member of the Protectorate, the Outsider, at their headquarters in New York. From there, they would be traveling to New Orleans. Alex was a little intrigued by this, not knowing what means of transportation they’d be using. Alex arranged to have a driver pick him up in the morning and went to bed, hoping he’d be able to get some sleep before heading out. He almost succeeded.

His dreams, while not actually nightmares, disturbed him. It began with the images of vampires, both from Hollywood and from the Protectorates files. There was the expected blood and gore and an endless number of the nightmare creatures. What he didn’t expect was the next portion of the dream.

As had happened before, he was cast in the role of the Sorcerer’s Apprentice, only now he was a little older. Again, he was standing on an impossibly high mountain top, looking out at all of Creation, each portion of which was a part of an orchestra -- and orchestra he was conducting. This time it was different. This time he avoided causing terrible disasters with the movement of his arms. The stars played counterpoint to the dark matter. The planets moved in the precise Rhythm that he dictated. The galaxies danced and the Harmonies flowed. The Music was intoxicating.

As the dream progressed, Alex began to notice that there was something out of tune. Try as he might, he could not locate the source of the Dissonance. In fact, the more he tried, the worse it became, until once more, everything started moving in random directions. Alex began flailing his arms once more in an attempt to restore Order to the symphony. But despite his best efforts, Disaster loomed

Alex woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. It took him a few moments to realize just where he was. He got up and went into the bathroom. He washed his face trying to wake up a little more then got into the shower. He dried off and went back into his room, thinking to put on some sweats. Then he saw his costume draped over the chair where he’d left it.

He had considered just packing his costume in a gym bag and carrying it with him. Seeing it now, he decided against it, not knowing if he’d have enough time to change before they left for New Orleans. Alex put on the costume and then pulled on a pair of old, baggy sweats over it. He packed another change of clothes, put his machetes, wallet and cell phone in his bag and went down to meet the driver.

Alex arrived a couple of minutes before 0700 and headed up to the meeting room. Trinity was there, waiting. “I’m glad to see you didn’t change your mind, Alex. The Outsider should be joining us momentarily.”

"The Outsider will be joining us?" replied Alex. "I thought--"

"Yes?"

"It was my understanding that I would be accompanying the Outsider and Lioness to New Orleans," said Alex a little confused. Initially, Lioness had been against his going to New Orleans. He was afraid that he might be the reason for her absence.

"Disappointed?" replied Trinity, with a slightly suggestive smile.

"What? Oh! No, it's not that at all," Alex blurted out, blushing slightly. Trinity possessed an exotic beauty that was an interesting counterpoint to the feral beauty of Lioness. Until a few moments ago, that observation had been tucked neatly away in the back of his mind. It now screamed to the forefront of his thoughts. "I was just a little confused is all."

Trinity smiled at his discomfort "The Protectorate often has to shift personnel as necessary to handle things as they arise. Shall we go?"

They went to an elevator and, after a brief ride, the doors opened and they entered another chamber. Alex had to renew his efforts to redirect his attention from the way that Trinity moved down the hallway. Nevertheless, he unconsciously ran his fingers through his hair and continued into the room. They were greeted by a cold, almost accusing voice.

“You’re late.”

Alex looked quickly to the right and noticed the Outsider standing against the wall, nearly invisible in the shadows.

“Sorry. Traffic was unusually heavy this morning,” replied Alex.

“Don't worry about it Alex, he only just got here himself,” said Trinity, shooting a frown at The Outsider.

“Yeah, but at least I’m dressed for the occasion,” he said, indicating Alex’s sweats.

Alex looked down at the sweats that concealed his costume and grimaced. Looking around, he didn’t see anywhere that he could remove them in private.

“Very well,” he said under his breath and set his gym bag on the floor. Pausing momentarily, he took his sweats off, revealing the costume beneath. The fact that Trinity was watching did not make it any easier. He quickly rolled his sweats up and put them in the bag. He hooked the small speakers over his ears, making sure they were firmly in place.

“Better?” asked Alex.

The Outsider merely gave a small grunt and headed to the center of the room. Trinity followed suit and Alex, with a motion from Trinity, joined them..

“How is this going to work?” asked Alex a little uncertain about what was to happen.

Trinity explained, “It’s a little like Star Trek -- the transporter is an ultra-tech device; it has a sensory array that analyzes the molecular structure of the person or object that is being transported. Then it 'zaps' it to basically nothing and sends its molecular signature to the destination through a tachyon ray. The subject is then re-materialized.”

The thought of being rendered into "nothing" and "re-materialized" didn’t exactly appeal to Alex.

“Don’t worry,” she added, noting Alex’s expression, “it doesn’t hurt. In fact, you won’t experience any sensation at all. It’ll be like changing the channel on a television. One moment, you’ll be here, the next, you’ll be in New Orleans”

With that, she spoke to an unseen microphone.

"Paragon. We're ready for transport to New Orleans."

There was a brief pause and then a dispassionate, almost synthesized voice responded.

"Acknowledged. Stand by." A few seconds later, Paragon continued. "Transport initiated. Enjoy the trip."

Alex overheard The Outsider mutter. "Since when does he have a sense of humor..."

As the scene changed from the transport chamber to the streets outside of the French Quarter, Alex noted that Trinity was only partially correct. There was no pain, as she had said, however Alex did experience a sensation.

As the transport chamber disappeared, he heard Music. A Song. A Song about -- no, a Song that was Travel. A Song that fulfilled a Need -- to be "Instantly in a Place Other Than Where He Was." The Song was extremely intricate but had almost no duration. When it faded, he and his traveling companions were standing on a street outside of the French Quarter.

“That was Amazing,” said Alex, straining to hear the very last notes. “Is it like that every time? That Music was incredible!”

Trinity gave Alex a concerned look. The Outsider was a little more vocal.

“You on any special medication we should be aware of, kid?” asked the Outsider warily.

"No, why do you--" Alex paused. "You didn’t hear it, did you?"

“Nothing to hear, kid. If you’re going to start losin’ it, wait until after this is over. I’m not here to play nurse-maid.”

Another time, the Outsider’s comments might have cause Alex some concern. Instead, Alex felt something else. A kind of exhilaration at having made an important discovery. Unfortunately, before he could explore the feeling further, he was interrupted by another question from the dark avenger.

“So where is our resident angel, anyway? I’d like to get this party started.”

As they looked around, Alex heard Trinity reply as she looked skyward.

"Ask and you shall receive..."

There, gliding in from the direction of the rising sun, was Jacob, a grim look on his face

Capt. Timothy Andrews re-read the report submitted by Fist then hit the delete key. The mercenary had been paid -- without the additional pay he demanded (some drivel about having to deal with an additional metahuman). Unfortunately, Andrews was no closer to solving the ‘Weaver’ problem than he had been initially.

Fist had kept the boy’s apartments under surveillance and had struck quickly -- the video had confirmed this -- but even with the speed of his entrance, Weaver had still managed to elude him. Instead, he ended up going a few rounds with Alex. Surprisingly enough, boy had been able to hold his own against the mercenary. Likely it was due to the fact that Alex had been practicing that curious martial art at the time. Capoeira was often taught and practiced with rudimentary musical accompaniment. The music must have been just enough to increase his physical abilities.

Andrews had checked the sensor logs for the time period of the battle. Alex’s vital information had been recorded by the sensors in the exercise room. The increase in physical ability was consistent with increases noted in the Ministry’s labs although the levels were not as high as had been recorded on previous occasions.

As much as he hated the thought, Andrews was going to have to seek help from higher up. Thus far, the Weaver problem was only an annoyance. If Andrews wished to remain breathing, he would have to admit his inability to remove Weaver from the picture before it became more than an annoyance. Autocrat did not tolerate incompetence and failure was not an option. There would likely be consequences but High Lord would probably allow him to live. He hoped

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