Jensen didn't know what to do. Lawless was communicating less and less, as if fading into another world. If they lost his eyes, him, how many more would the monster kill tonight? And tomorrow and the next day?

"Danny," she pleaded. "What do you see?"

"Darkness ... Floating ... Waiting ..." His voice was mechanical, robotic.

"What are you waiting for?"

"The light to go away."

It was night, that didn't make any sense. She was losing him but didn't know what to do.

She reached down and shook his shoulder and said, "Danny, where are you?"

He twitched, and for a second, some recognition flashed over his face and into his eyes. How long it had been since he last perceived what his own eyes saw? Hours?

"I'm with it, in the canal."

"No. The monster's in the canal. Where are you?"

He blinked several times, trying to comprehend her question.

Then he said, "The humans will move the light and I will strike. I will take them in their machine. They think they are safe but they cannot stop me."

"Danny," she said, weeping, not knowing what else to say, "What do you see?"

"I see the light gone from the top of the water." His voice was dark and menacing.

Suddenly she knew what had happened, and what was about to happen. She pressed the button on the radio mike and said...

"Where's the light? Shine the light on the canal! It's coming!" the mystery voice shouted at Stoveson through the radio, but she just stared at the mike in her hand. Howard eyes grew big and he said, "You need to get out of the car."

Just as the word "why" left Stoveson's lips, her door was hit with tremendous force and a metallic tearing, almost prehistoric, screeching sound echoed through the cabin. Her arm was cut and her partner grabbed her other arm and yanked so hard she felt her shoulder pop out of its socket. A flash of something came at the car again, at her, going for her feet; three yellow eyes full of fury and rows of gleaming silver teeth.

The teeth tore through the seat just as Howard pulled her out of the car. They fell backwards off the canal. Howard began groping around in the dark, searching for the shotgun, hoping it had slid down the bank. He heard the monster tearing the car to pieces.

He found the gun and pumped a shell into the chamber, tried to remember how many rounds the damn thing held. Had he just loaded or was it empty? Not empty: he just pumped a shell into the chamber.

His partner was muttering, swearing, babbling. Her eyes were open but not focused.

"Can you move?" He whispered to her.

Nothing she said made sense so he grabbed an arm and dragged her to the fence behind them. She screamed, and then shouted, "You stupid shit, you broke my arm!"

The patrol car's lights went out and in the dim moonlight they saw the monster slither through the car. Its head popped into view and it looked down at them, baring its silver teeth.

Howard aimed at its head and fired. The pellets hit the monster's teeth and bounced off, scattering, some caroming back. He felt a sting and Stoveson cried out.

He pumped the shotgun, was relieved to hear another shell load into the chamber, aimed just below the monster's head and fired again. The pellets thudded against the creature's hide and fell to the ground.

He shouted, "Oh shit!"

Then, from somewhere behind him, a man yelled, "Hey! What's going on out there?"

"Police! Get back in your house!" Howard shouted, pumping the shotgun again, hearing the happy sound of a shell being loaded. A door slammed several seconds later.

He took aim again, intending to shoot the creatures eyes out when it disappeared, followed by a splash from the canal.

"My God, Howard. What is it?"

"Shut up!" He strained to hear any sound of the creature.

The radio on his uniform crackled. "Howard? Stoveson? What the hell is going on? Why haven't you reported in?"

Holding the shotgun with one hand, he activated his radio with the other. "We're under attack. Officer Stoveson is down, repeat down. We need back up, now. Over."

"Roger that. Back up is on the way." Then, "Is Stoveson okay?"

"Nothing life threatening."

"Good. Where's the bad guy?"

"Don't know. Back in the canal, I think."

The creature swam away from the site of its attack, moving as quickly as it could. It did not swim away in fear, and while its hide was dehydrated, it was not injured.

It was confused. The prey had struck back at it with something it had never encountered before, something that spit fire and rocks. The rocks were harmless, but its program did not include a contingency for being attacked. It fled to give it time to process the new information, to adapt and evolve so that it would be prepared should a prey attempt such an attack again.

Jensen pressed the button on the mike and said, "It's leaving the scene."

"Do you know which way it's heading?" Baskel asked.

"Negative."

"Okay. How's he doing?"

"Bad."

A pause. "Anything I can do?"

"Leave us alone for a while. He's gonna' need some rest."

"You got it. Charge up his cell phone, though. Where're you taking him?"

"My place, I don't have a key to his. I'll call you when we get there."

The officers standing guard by the canal grilles saw nothing of the creature. They fired their shotguns into the water now and then, paperwork be damned, but the creature swam by without incident. The plan to kill it was a complete failure.

An ambulance took Stoveson to the hospital. She suffered a dislocated shoulder, courtesy of her partner, a cut requiring four stitches, and one puncture wound from a ricocheting shotgun pellet.

Howard tried apologizing for dislocating her shoulder but she stopped him with a kiss, saying she'd take a couple of months of Workers Comp over being torn to pieces in the patrol car. She gave him a second kiss for saving her life the second time, when their backs were against the fence and the monster was looking down at them with its three hungry eyes. Although he didn't kill it, they knew had he not fired they would have been shredded like Poloosa, or worse, chased and dismembered like the teens.

Howard had only one wound, where the shotgun pellet hit him in the arm. It was quickly cleaned and bandaged on site, at his insistence. He could have gone back to the station for debriefing and then home to bed, but he wanted to stay and help. He followed Baskel around and tried to make himself useful.

Howard and Stoveson's description of the monster's appearance, while graphic and sensational, was of little real value. Any snake-monster seen in any canal could be presumed to the be one they were looking for; no one needed to count the number of yellow eyes.

What happened when Howard shot it with the shotgun, on the other hand, was very helpful. They would need to find something that packed more power.

After making sure his officers' medical needs were taken care of, Baskel set about the ugly task of exploring the kill scene. The patrol car was a mess, but at least it wasn't splattered with blood and gore.

Waiting for them further up the canal bank was the most frightening sight any who saw it thought they would ever see.

They found the fourth teenager after noticing a big hole in the fence next to the canal. Baskel and Howard found the remains on the patio.

A patrolman was sent to the house to wake the owners, surprised it was necessary because everyone else on the street was wide awake, looking over their fences; whoever lived here had slept through it all.

Half an hour later, the Neubaums reported that their daughter wasn't in her bed, or anywhere else in the house.

Ten minutes later, Baskel would say to them, after asking several questions about her appearance, "I'm afraid your daughter has been killed."

The press arrived, making it necessary to cover the corpses.

Baskel made it home by six, slept for two hours, showered and shaved, and was back at the station at eight-thirty, drinking coffee by the quart.

Jensen had Lawless undressed and in bed by twelve-thirty. He was awake and cooperative, but not responsive.

She dared not talk to him about the nights activities; there would be time for that tomorrow, she hoped. If he was talking.

He lay in bed on his side, his eyes open, staring at nothing.

She got an idea: she got his boombox and CDs and put on something with an Italian name. The music filled the air and he relaxed and was asleep in ten minutes.

She lay next to him for a while, holding him. She considered shutting the awful music off, but thought it wouldn't hurt to let it play to the end. Besides, she was tired enough to sleep through anything, even opera.

Sandra Jensen fell asleep with her arms wrapped around Daniel Lawless.

Soon afterwards, Daniel Lawless entered the sleep phase where people dream.

And he dreamed a dream...

He went out to a place that was strange yet familiar, foreign but home - a dangerous place; to a time long since passed but part of today; to beings he once knew but were no more.

He saw a being that was both boy and man; a boy because of his short stature, small hands and feet; a man because of what he was, and what he could and must do.

In his dream he entered the boy and became him one fine warm day. He looked up in wonder at the world around him; the two small suns setting in the east; the ghosts of three moons moving across the twilight sky; the strange trees that hid birds he knew must be responsible for the beautiful sound that filled the air; the cloudless sky colored a strange blue-green; the buildings constructed of materials that melted into the environment, giving the impression they weren't buildings at all but rather the result of some natural process of time and weather; the beings who walked on two legs and touched each other with two arms fitted with hands at the end, beings who looked like people he knew on the planet called Earth, but were not.

He felt something warm and comforting in his hand, looked up and saw a woman. She smiled at him and he thought he knew her. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask her who she was and if she knew why he was here, but as his lips parted, he heard, in his mind, ("Shh, little one. Questions can wait. It is time for instruction.") She smiled again and he knew she was right. There would be time for questions later. They walked together, hand-in-hand across a beautiful green lawn, warm and downy soft, not itchy like the grass on Earth. He saw other small ones like him, walking with similar women - mothers?

It was good to be little again, to know that someone would take care of him, feed him when he was hungry and put him to bed when he was tired but didn't have the sense to go to bed on his own. He moved with ease, without the ache or discomfort of age and accumulated injury.

A strange bird flew down from the sky and perched in the branches of a nearby tree, capturing his attention. It sang, making an exquisite sound unlike anything he had ever heard. He watched in wonder as the bird sang its beautiful song without moving its mouth.

He and his mother walked, hand-in-hand.

("I am not your mother, little one. I am your Instructor.") ("Where is my mother?") ("You haven't one.") ("Why not?") ("Shh. Questions later, remember?") He and his Instructor found themselves at the entrance of a building. He looked back and saw that the tree with the singing bird was some distance behind them.

("Things are different here.") ("Yes, very different.") Other small ones, boys and girls, and their Instructors were entering the building, too. Inside, the ceiling towered above them, rising to dizzying heights. The walls were a shimmering white and were bare; no paintings, no pictures of founding fathers or present rulers, no decorative vases or plants, no flags or other symbols of allegiance. The floors were made of a material that was soft yet firm, yielding to the pressure of a small foot on the down-step but propelling the foot forward on the up-step. No doors led off to hallways or smaller rooms, yet other small ones and their Instructors seemed to appear from the very walls of the building. He supposed they came in through another of the many entrances such a magnificent building must surely have.

A soft hum vibrated through the walls and floors and through him each time one of his feet touched the floor, leaving him warm and filled, energized.

("I feel like I've eaten something warm and delicious.") ("You are being nourished, little one.") ("How? No one has fed me here.") ("There are more efficient ways of transferring energy than the coarse methods used on the planet you have been visiting. There is no waste here.") ("Eating is coarse?") ("Breaking matter into smaller pieces with stones set in the mouth, then passing it down a tube that runs through the body for the purpose of absorption is inefficient. Much is wasted.") ("Yeah, but it's fun. Food tastes good.") He could feel her smiling.

("Earth must have many enjoyable customs. You seem fond of your experience there. You have done well.") ("Where are we?") ("We are at the place of learning.") He looked and saw an amphitheater of sorts. There were many, perhaps two hundred, white reclined surfaces like beds about his length set in circular rows. Next to the beds were pillowy white cushions. Small ones were being led to the beds and helped to lie down. Instructors sat on the pillows, holding hands and stroking hair.

("This is the place where we learn?") ("Yes, little one.") ("Then why isn't anyone talking?") ("They are all communicating.") ("Why can't I hear them?") ("They are not communicating to you.") While this answer seemed to satisfy her, it did not him.

She led him to a bed and he laid down. She took her place on the pillow, held one of his hands in hers, and began stroking his hair with soft, loving fingers.

("Are you sure you're not my mother, because you sure act like it.") His Instructor smiled, but did not communicate.

The hum was different in the reclined surface; gentler, less noticeable. He felt his body relax and thought he might even fall asleep.

("We do not sleep here, little one.") ("How can you know what I'm thinking?") ("When you imagine something, you create it.") He thought about that for a minute, then was embarrassed, knowing his mind was open to her. He looked at a girl laying on the bed next to his.

("Can she read my mind?") ("It is not a matter of reading minds, little one. One need only learn to perceive the intelligence that passes all around us. When you think a thought, you send it out into the universe where all whom you wish to perceive it, perceive it. The beings on the planet called Earth could perceive thoughts as we can, but do not know of their ability, nor do they seem to care. They are distracted.") ("Distracted by what?") ("Things they think are important but have no real meaning or purpose.") Each answer she gave made him think of ten new questions. He had a hundred things he wanted to know, but something was beginning to happen.

The ceiling was no longer a ceiling, it had become an extension of his mind, connected by the cable of thought and memory.

His Instructor gently squeezed his hand.

("Try not to be afraid little one.") ("I'm not afraid, I have you here with me. You'll watch over me.") ("Do you not know why you are here?") ("To be instructed?") ("Yes, but why do you need to be instructed?") Then he knew.

("I am a Seer.") ("Yes, you are one who can see.") He knew there was something else.

("There's more, isn't there?") ("Yes, all of the little ones here are more than a Seer.") ("What else am I?") ("Look.") His mind unfolded.

He saw the beginning of his kind, how long ago he did not know. He perceived their humble beginnings, the start of their struggle for survival on a hostile planet. They reminded him very much of the people on Earth: they used their mouths to speak and eat and they exhibited strong emotions, both good and bad.

("Yes, little one. Our kind was once very much like the kind you know on Earth.") Hundreds and thousands of years passed, but he perceived them all: centuries of fighting, brutal slaughter, hatred, lust for power and dominance, and the rise and fall of countless civilizations. He watched as many species were killed to extinction, some for food, others merely for sport.

("Why were we so violent?") ("We had not yet learned to subdue the coarser side of our nature. We let it rule instead of serve.") He saw a great war, a hundred years of butchery and carnage that decimated their planet, sparing but a few thousand of their kind. A Leader rose up among them and taught them new ideas, showed them another path to follow, the path to peace.

He perceived many more centuries passing. His kind became peaceful, following the path the Leader set for them, and once again flourished until they covered the surface of their planet. He saw them make great advances in technology, the greatest of which was learning to harness the power of their suns. When they no longer burned fuel for energy their air became clean and sweet. They moved about the planet with ease and in perfect safety, traveling in vehicles controlled by powerful computers. They stopped communicating with their mouths once they learned they could perceive each others thoughts. His kind developed ways to nourish themselves with pure energy, thus conserving resources once wasted on the growth, distribution, and consumption of food. There were no poor on their planet because there was no greed. Eventually all monetary systems of exchange were eliminated. There was no need for them.

He watched his kind build machines to travel through space and begin sending some of their kind to other planets with beings like their own, to share the teachings of the Leader. Some civilizations embraced the Leader's message, but most rejected it, intent on self-destruction.

Seeing only the vision, he felt his Instructor stroking his head again. He wondered why she was there, if she served a purpose other than comfort.

("I am here to help you see.") ("I do see. We live in peace with each other and with other worlds.") ("There is more to see, little one. Look.") His mind unfolded again.