Alice descended from the sky above the trailer park, her arms gently floating up by her shoulders as though she were drifting down through calm water, despite the fact she was really struggling to stay in one place as the wind snarled and dragged at her in nearly every direction.

  A sound rose to her ears, slowly stabbing through the howling wind as she floated closer to the silver truck. Alice realized it was the sound of screaming. The woman, towards whom Alice was slowly descending, had spotted her in the air while she was still fifty feet above her. Apparently, the sight of this girl in the sky had launched her into a panic, and the only thing that seemed to keep her from fleeing in terror was the water that seemed to hold more terror still. Even so, the woman was shrinking into the furthest corner of the truck's roof away from Alice, as though seriously considering taking her chances with the rapids.

  "Please, don't scream!" Alice shouted above the hurricane. She suddenly realized the irony of her situation was such that if the two of them were to talk, they would have to practically scream just to hear one another above the wind. She decided approaching the woman from above might only feed her panic.

  Alice wondered also who else might see her now that she was so close to the ground. She peered around herself and saw some of the other people pointing and staring at her, some of them with fear stamped on their faces just like the woman she was trying to help. She decided that, given the inherent panic caused by the flooding, it would be best to appear as ordinary as possible to avoid adding to the fear of everyone around her.

  Trying to avoid the gazes of the people she could see, she settled down on top of a shed behind a blue trailer. The small, unstable structure nearly collapsed under the combined stress of her weight and the torrent pressing against it. Alice jumped down into the cold water and waded past the home into the street. She gasped as the chill reached through her clothing and squeezed her lungs like an icy fist. The sound of the rain on the flood water drowned out everything but the thunder. The strength of the current surprised her, and she had to be careful not to lose her footing and be swept away. She comforted herself with the fact that if she ever did get swept off her feet by the river, she could simply fly out.

  When she reached the truck, the woman had her back turned, and she was calling out to a group of refugees down the street who had their children on their shoulders.

  "Please, help me!" she cried out to them. Alice wondered if she was wishing for help from the water or from her.

  The family didn't hear her over the sound of the storm on the water, and so they moved on.

  "Please, wait!"

  Alice made her way around to the other side of the vehicle, the down-river side. She worried briefly about the wisdom in putting herself against both the car and the current.

  "M-m-ma'am," Alice tried to sound soothing but it was a hard feeling to convey under the circumstances "I can help you down!"

  The woman screamed when she saw her, warning her to stay away and praying to God in the same breath to save her from the devil.

  "Ma'am, p-please. I'm t-trying to help you. I'm not the d-d-devil. I'm just a girl."

  The woman seemed to stop long enough to look at her. Whether it was because her hair from beneath her beanie was plastered to her face, or perhaps because she was shivering so badly it was difficult to speak, the woman seemed to finally be convinced Alice was there to help.

  "I can't swim," she whimpered.

  "It's not that d-d-deep," Alice answered, trying to coax her down with hand motions. Clearly, she was deathly afraid of the water. She shook her head and whimpered something Alice couldn't understand and remained clutching to the roof of the vehicle like a newborn to it's mother.

  "I'll help you," Alice tried again, holding out her hand to her. "I'll hold on to you. But we have to get out of here and onto higher ground."

  After a long moment of hesitation, she nodded in agreement, and began reaching for Alice's hand. Her eyes were so wide she thought they might fall out. When Alice finally grasped her hand in hers, she began coaching her down the side of the vehicle until she slid off and into the water. She gasped whether from terror or cold, Alice was unsure. Alice wrapped her arm around the woman's waist to keep her from being swept away.

  Then the vehicle moved again. Without the woman's weight on top, the SUV made another large, sudden drift towards them, threatening to bowl them over. The woman shrieked in surprise, and Alice held out a single hand and braced it against the window of the truck. She felt her feet digging into the mud and rock and garbage on the ground under the water, and slowly the vehicle came to a stop.

  Alice didn't know what caused the sudden surge of water through the trailer park right then. A swell in the flood suddenly pushed the truck even harder against her hand. Alice heard a sharp clicking sound, and with horror realized it was the the sound of pale, white cracks spiderwebbing out from her hands across the surface of the window. She opened her mouth to shout a warning to the woman, but her words became a gasp as the window shattered the vehicle slammed into her side and pushed her off her feet and into the churning water with the woman in her arms.

  It was dark, darker than Alice thought it ought to be, and the suddenness of the event caught her without a deep breath before the plunge. She coughed, and she felt water in her mouth and lungs. When she tried to stand on her feet, she felt her way blocked by something big and heavy and metal. Her one free hand groped in the dark, feeling above her a distressingly low ceiling of rods and pipes and plating and realizing with mounting horror the truck, carried by the sudden surge in flood water, had settled on top of her.

  Still trying to hold onto the thrashing woman by her side, Alice planted her knees on the muddy ground and her free shoulder against the undercarriage of the vehicle. She pushed hard, straining to both lift and fly if she could. The water exploded around her, and she felt the wind on her face again and sucked in wet, rattling breaths of the icy air. When she opened her eyes, she saw that she was a dozen feet or so above the river of water, with the pickup tumbling off her shoulders and splashing upside down below.

  The woman was gasping and coughing as Alice held her, and then she became rigidly still. She crushed Alice's forearm with a grip strength born from undiluted fear and the knowledge that the one thing keeping her suspended in the air was the arm of the girl beside her. Alice realized that perhaps she was just as afraid of heights as she was of water.

  She flew herself and her passenger to a small strip of shops across the street where the parking lot was higher than the trailer park. There were some people already there, a few of them pointing and shouting things at Alice, though she couldn't hear them. She set the woman down on dry ground, and she started sobbing as soon as Alice let her go. She didn't say a thing to her rescuer. She merely grabbed at the shirts of the two closest people to her and continued to sob, collapsing against them as though they'd been the ones to pull her from a watery grave.

  Alice was in the process of drifting up and away from the stares of the crowd when she noticed him. He was standing on the other end of the parking lot, staring at her.

  He stood out from the other people in the parking lot, in that his clothes were odd. His pants and boots looked military, but she had never seen a soldier wear a mask like the one he had. It covered his face like a balaclava, but it was made of something thick and plated. She could see rainwater beading off the material. His eyes were covered by some kind of set of goggles that hid them behind dark lenses. His short-sleeved shirt seemed to be the only thing about him that seemed out of place. It was black and had "In my defense, I was left unsupervised" printed in yellow across the chest. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, like a bodybuilder. His long, well-defined arms ended in gloves that might have been made of the same material as the mask he wore.

  By the way he stared at her, Alice realized that he was watching her as intently as she was him. This was not surprising. After all, she was hovering in midair above the parking lot. Everyone there was watching her. But something about him made him stand out from the others, something more than his unusual clothes. She felt her eyes locked on him by some invisible force. She'd heard her friend Christine talk about auras, invisible halos that surrounded special people that revealed things about their nature. Alice hadn't believed in them until maybe that very moment as she looked at the masked man. There was something about him that drew her attention, something that was just beyond her ability to see. Something she felt in her mind and in her chest. It was almost as though the two of them were magnets, drawn together by the very laws of the universe.

  Was this one of the ones she was looking for? Another gifted person, what some on the Internet called a metahuman? Was she looking at Divinity himself, the legendary savior that everyone thought had died twenty years ago?

  Alice felt herself slowly drifting towards him. She suddenly became aware of just how conspicuous she was. She was floating there being gawked at by the refugees of the trailer park with her hair in shambles, her coat soaked and dripping, and her feet covered in mud. She felt self-conscious and decided to stop wasting her time just gawking at him. After months of searching for others like her, she was desperate to talk to him. She had so many questions.

  People backed away from her as she landed. No one spoke to her, though a few of them pulled out cell phones and started snapping pictures.

  He stood there with his arms across his chest, quietly assessing her. When Alice reached him, he tilted his head to the side, waiting. Alice realized that if she wanted to talk to him, she would have to be the one to kick start things.

  "Hi," she said with some trepidation. She tried to follow it up, but nothing came to her. She realized with great frustration that in the past two months She'd never really thought of what she was going to say when this moment arrived.

  "Hi, there!" the man called back. His voice was muffled by the fabric over his mouth. "That was really impressive. How are you..."

  But then he suddenly lost interest in her. He looked away from Alice, concentrating, pushing a finger to the piece of his mask that covered his ear. Alice thought he must be listening to something. And then, without a word, he ran away. He sprinted away from her towards the strip of businesses that were behind him, making a bee line for the five-dollar pizza place. Just when Alice thought he was going to go crashing through the front window, he vaulted himself into the air and cleared the roof of the building in a single leap. Alice stared in awe as he disappeared behind it.

  It had happened. She really had found another metahuman.

  Alice immediately gave chase, taking to the air and soaring above the tops of the houses, trying to keep an eye on him, but she could never have anticipated how fast he was. Within seconds the refugees in the parking lot were nearly a mile behind them. The man in the mask was sprinting, leaping from block to block, running nearly as fast as she could fly.

  She watched as he knocked over or destroyed the things he could not avoid. Fences. Mailboxes. Trees. She saw him plant his hands on top of a car to vault himself over it. The car roof dented in, and the window below shattered as he did.

  Alice looked ahead, trying to predict where he was going. Straight ahead, only a few blocks away, she realized they were headed for the Ferris wheel. The wind, whipping at her and forcing her to fly in a zigzag pattern, was rocking the Ferris wheel from side to side dangerously, certainly more than the structure was ever meant to manage, she guessed.

  As they approached the gigantic Ferris wheel, Alice could see that it sat on a beautiful boardwalk lined with shops, restaurants, and hotels. On the boardwalk in front of the Ferris wheel, directly under its shadow, huddled a small crowd of people and vehicles.

  A small building, probably an overpriced concessions place, had collapsed from the onslaught of wind and rain and wave. She could see firefighters and other emergency response people scurrying over the wreckage, pointing and shouting at one another. People must have been buried when the place caved in.

  Alice looked again at the enormous Ferris wheel rocking in the wind. A sign at its base illuminated by the flashing lights of half a dozen emergency vehicles read "Skywheel". It was positioned perfectly to crush the crowd of frantic rescuers as soon as its support struts gave way.

  And they did.

  There was a metallic groan from the base of the Skywheel, and people screamed and shouted as the huge, colossal frame stopped rocking and slowly started leaning. Alice could hear the almost electric twang of cables snapping. Soon it would fall and obliterate the boardwalk below, along with anyone still on it.

  Alice froze in the air and watched on in horror. At that moment, she realized she was witnessing a natural disaster in progress.

  People below started running as far away as they could from the shadow of the Skywheel. But one person was running towards it. Watching the disaster of the Skywheel unfold, Alice had almost forgotten about the man in the mask.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He leapt from the boardwalk towards the Skywheel, an impossible jump that made her wonder if he could fly as well. He cocked his fist back by his ear and slammed it into the huge metal structure. A resounding clang blasted the air above the noise of the storm, and the Skywheel tipped back the other way, slowly crashing into the ocean.

  But the danger was far from over. As the man in black punched the Skywheel, the three compartments on top broke loose and fell, trailing broken struts and metal debris behind them.

  Perhaps because she'd already seen somebody take action, or maybe because the noise had shaken her out of her trance, Alice suddenly found herself in motion born of pure instinct. She flew straight at the nearest falling compartment, spurred on by the desperation to keep it from hitting the boardwalk and the people on it. Alice didn't punch it like she'd seen the masked man do, nor did she even extend her arms to attempt a half-sensible push. She simply slammed into it with her shoulder and, by sheer luck, knocked into the second falling compartment, sending both spiraling into the ocean waves.

  The third and last piece of large falling debris, another compartment with a fifty-foot piece of frame attached to it, crunched harmlessly into an empty part of the boardwalk.

  Disoriented and still following the momentum of her collision course, Alice bounced off the boardwalk and fell into the sea. For the second time that afternoon, she was underwater, though this time her rise to the surface was unobstructed. She poked her head above the water only to catch a frothing wave in the face. She levitated herself above the breakers, coughing and sputtering sea water.

  Skywheel was a waterlogged wreck, with pieces of it washing along the resort beach for hundreds of meters in either direction. Alice could see the boardwalk and the dozens of rescue workers either still working to free the people trapped under the collapsed building or pointing out into the ocean in her direction.

  The most immediately noticeable thing, however, was the girl flying right in front of her. Alice wiped tendrils of hair dripping salt water from her face and stared.

  She wore a mask as well, one made of gray, plated fabric and goggles like an insect's eyes. Long, fiery hair erupted from the back of it, tossing and whipping in the wind like a crimson war banner. Unlike the man Alice had followed, she wore no tee shirt, but a full-body suit. Plates of what must certainly be armor gave the woman bulk, changing her body shape, but Alice could tell she was a woman beneath it. What looked like metal struts framed her arms and legs, a sort of full-body brace. What caught Alice's eye the most was what the woman was standing on. It was a sort of hovering platform built around a swiveling jet engine. Alice could see it adjusting as it compensated for gusts of wind to keep the girl hovering in one place.

  Machines, then. Not gifts. Not metahumans as she had thought. Alice's gut sank like a stone. There would be no answers here for her unspoken questions. The mysteries in her life would remain mysteries, despite the incredible things she saw before her. She pressed her lips together and let the drops of icy rain and sea and tears roll down her face and disappear into the wind with her hopes.

  The woman on the flying machine, whoever she was, turned her attention from staring at Alice. She looked over her shoulder back to the boardwalk, where Alice could see three more masked individuals standing. One of them raised a finger in the air and began to spin it, drawing a circle in the air above his head. The woman nodded, and her flying machine made a lazy circle in the air back towards her group.

  Alice watched as a plane soon appeared overhead, a huge, blacker than black shape that was somehow both bulky and sleek at the same time, like a predatory whale. A cargo hatch appeared in the craft, gaping wide as a whale's mouth, and the woman on the flying machine flew up to meet it with the other three trailing behind her on some kind of tether, the group of them looking like an absurd, tactical version of a hanging mobile.

  With a speed and fluidity only coordination and practice could produce, the four masked strangers disappeared into the belly of the black, flying whale, which turned and roared away into the low, angry clouds.

  When they were finally gone from view, Alice suddenly felt cold and vulnerable. She'd lost her goggles and gloves. her jacket was badly torn in several places. Her shoes were ruined, and she was soaking wet. She was miserable and discouraged and tired.

  She wrapped her arms around herself as she started to shiver, and she started her long flight home with one last wish still clinging to her lips: to not get lost on the way back.

  **********

  The holoscreen display on the table pieced together a three-dimensional image of the girl using all the footage they had of her from every angle. The result was a partial image. From the front and most of the left side, it was complete. The illusion wasn't broken until Clawson walked to the girl's right or the back, where the computer didn't have enough data to construct an accurate representation. The result was a girl that looked like a shattered, moving piece of living pottery from the back, the only visible portions a mere shell with huge pieces missing to reveal a hollow space inside.

  Clawson scratched the growth of gray stubble on his chin and stared at the face of the girl. Limp, brown hair plastered to her smooth cheeks and whipping across her dark eyes. Sea water drenched her clothes, which clung to her frame and hung from it like overripe fruit. Clawson could guess from the image that she was tall for most women, almost six feet tall, and that she had squared, well defined shoulders. As of yet, the computers had not matched the girl's face to a name, but that was merely a matter of time, he thought. Clawson's intel team had access to every major government directory. With enough time, he would know who the girl was and who she worked for. At the moment, however, there were more pressing questions.

  "How is she flying?" he asked out loud.

  The room was silent, despite the six other people in the room who heard his question. Clawson scratched his stubble again and reached for a cup of stale coffee on the table nearby. He took a long, unsatisfying swallow and tried to rub the fatigue out of his eyes. Resting both hands on the table and leaning forward, he looked at the others seated at the table and tried again.

  "That wasn't a rhetorical question. How is she flying?"

  It was Priscilla who spoke first.

  "Well, she wasn't standing on a Sylph jet," she commented, referring to the machine she herself used in the field. "I didn't see any other kind of tech. Whatever she had, it would have to be small. Compact."

  Clawson nodded. "Mr. Jaa, bring up schematics on any personal flight tech you know of. Let's see if any of it fits our mystery girl."

  At the other end of the table, a young man's hands flew across a keyboard with machine gun staccato, and the hologram floating above the round table split in two. One continued to show the girl, and the other began cycling through technical schematics of flying machines. Some of them were sets of wings, and others were platform personnel carriers like Priscilla's Sylph jet. Some were stranger still, taking strange proportions and sprouting odd appendages that allowed a human to fly in a myriad of ways. Everyone watched as each image appeared and disappeared two seconds later, only to be replaced by something stranger and stranger.

  "So?" prompted Clawson. "Do any of these look familiar?"

  Priscilla shook her head, as did her brother, Joshua. Levi reclined in his chair and shrugged. Ethan didn't respond. Clawson could see that he wasn't watching the images of the flight tech at all, but the image of the girl. Clawson knew the boy was easily preoccupied by girls, and it wouldn't have been surprising if Ethan had been distracted by the girls looks. The girl was, by any standard, a beautiful one, but the look on Ethan's face seemed to have more concern in it than whimsy. Clawson knew all of Ethan's tells, and why shouldn't he? He'd watched the boy grow up right in front of him.

  "The Swan's signal detection didn't pick up anything nearby when we ex-filtrated," added Levi, the team's vehicle and machinery specialist. "I checked the data. The girl had a phone and a portable GPS unit, the cheap kind you put in your car, and that was barely working. Nothing else that the Swan could see. If she was using flight tech, it wasn't running on electricity."

  Clawson, and subsequently everyone in the room but Ethan, looked at the young man at the keyboard. Mr. Jaa, who all of the younger staff members referred to as Jolly, shrugged.

  "No such technology exists at this time," he explained to the others in his thick, Chinese accent. "All existing flight tech requires computers to regulate and control the machines. Any materials that could have shielded it from the Black Swan's signal detection would have made it too heavy to fly or too bulky to conceal under her clothing. If this girl is indeed flying unassisted, she must be doing it using technology currently unknown to my department."

  Clawson heard the implication in that final statement. As far as he knew, there was no technology unknown to his department, not on the entire planet.

  "What about her strength?" asked Clawson. "She diverted fourteen hundred pounds of falling steel and fiberglass by hitting it with her shoulder. Can anyone explain that?"

  Athena spoke next. "Could be another combat frame, something lighter, stronger, and more compact than ours, hidden under her clothes."

  But I doubt it, was the unspoken comment Clawson could see in her dark eyes.

  "So, is this another contractor?" asked Levi, pointing up at the girl. "An ORIGIN copycat? Do you think somebody has put together a team like ours and is trying to work the same jobs? Or could this be a government agency?"

  "Has that ever happened before?" asked Joshua. "Have there ever been other teams like us out there? I've never heard of 'em."

  "There might be one or two," answered Clawson, "but that's not what this is."

  Clawson looked again at Ethan, who was still staring at the hologram of the girl.

  "You're all dismissed," Clawson said to everyone in the room. "I'll brief you on anything else we find out about our mystery girl from the sky."

  Everyone climbed out of their chairs from around the round table and began to file out of the room through the guarded double doors.

  "Athena and Ethan, I want you both to stay."

  When they joined him, Clawson turned to Ethan.

  "You saw her the most, Ethan. She followed you from the trailer park all the way to the boardwalk. When you left, she left. What do you make of this? Did you notice anything about her? Anything unusual?"

  Ethan grinned at him. "Unusual?" he smirked. "Like, say, that she was flying for no apparent reason? That kind of unusual?"

  Clawson gritted his teeth. He didn't have time for these kinds of childish games. Not from him. Not today. He hadn't slept in thirty hours for all the work he'd been doing, and he had no desire for him to make his day more demanding than it already had been.

  "Just give him a straight answer," cut in Athena.

  "How did you react when you saw her?" Clawson asked, silently praying for Ethan to turn down this obvious opportunity for humor, for once. "Did you have an immediate reaction or impression? Did she seem familiar in any way?"

  Ethan's face fell for a moment. His usual childish grin parted like a curtain, and Clawson actually saw the young man look thoughtful, which spoke volumes more than the boy's actual answer.

  "I don't know. Maybe."

  "Maybe?" Clawson repeated.

  "Yeah, well," the boy was looking down at the table, "there might have been something. I don't know. She looked different from everyone else, you know? Like, brighter, maybe."

  Then the moment was gone.

  "Honestly, I don't know what you're looking for Clawson. A girl appears in front of me flying twenty feet off the ground, and you're asking me if I noticed anything odd. What would qualify? That she was left-handed? She wears socks with sandals?"

  The boy laughed and turned for the door. Almost there, he looked over his shoulder.

  "Can I go?" he asked.

  Clawson nodded.

  When the doors swung shut again, he turned back to Athena. He looked at her, an expression on his face that asked, What do you think? It was a look Athena was quite familiar with.

  "I think he was telling the truth. I think there was something about her that stood out to him. Something we might not understand," she said.

  "You think she might be metahuman," he said.

  She shrugged. "We gave up that search nearly twenty years ago because we had nothing to show for it. Now she just appears, literally floating right in front of us?" She shook her head. "That sounds too easy."

  "Yeah, well, you never trust easy things," he smiled.

  "I've never seen an easy thing," she corrected him. "Have you?"

  Clawson nodded with understanding and drained the last bitter swallow of coffee.

  "There's nothing easy about any of this." He removed something from his pocket. It was about the size of an apple that had been cut in half. The semi-hemispherical object was a dome of shiny, black plastic. "Bravo team found more of these around the boardwalk, all within line-of-sight of the Ferris wheel."

  Athena let out a breath through her nose as she stared at it. "More cameras?" she asked. "Like the ones we found on the cargo ship?"

  Clawson nodded, tossing the simple, cheap device into the air and catching it again, like a boy playing with a ball. "Same design," he said. "And just like before, no fingerprints, no DNA. No evidence to suggest who could have made them."

  "Who could have made them?" Athena repeated, exasperated. "Who couldn't have made them? School kids make things more technically complex than those in shop class. You could find the materials to make something like this in thousands of stores across the country. And that's not including online vendors. There's nothing about these things that can tell us anything."

  Clawson shook his head and pocketed the little camera once again. "The fact they're there at all tells us some things. It tells us we're being watched. Maybe even studied. Myrtle Beach. The cargo ship. Lebanon. Tanzania. San Diego."

  Athena looked truly uneasy then. "You think someone's been watching us that long?"

  Clawson shrugged. "I suspect we may have been dancing to someone else's music for a few months now. Someone is causing things to happen. Someone wants to watch us work, to see us in motion, to study our operations. And their favorite bait is human victims. I'm willing to bet that if we take a closer look at that Ferris wheel, we'll probably find signs of sabotage."

  The two of them were quiet for a moment. Then Athena broke the silence.

  "We're talking more than just espionage, more than simple terrorism. You think that's what we're up against here? Someone that deranged? That crazy? That they'd endanger the lives of hundreds of people just to get a chance to see us in action?"

  Clawson looked her in the eye, a hard, serious expression on his face.

  "I think they'd do a lot more than endanger lives. About eleven miles from where we rescued that cargo ship, there's a Somali village. Homeland Security has suspected this place as a possible haven for pirates."

  "Sounds like a good place to pick up some leads," suggested Athena.

  Clawson shook his head. "Not in the way you'd think. It's gone. The entire village. Every inhabitant massacred. Every structure has been burned to the ground. I just found out two days ago. Government satellites saw the results. At this time, no suspects."

  "An enemy that murders to keep its secrets is a dangerous one to have," she commented. Then Athena looked up at the slowly rotating holographic image of the flying girl. "How do you figure she fits into all of this?" she asked.

  He shrugged again. "I don't know if there's a connection there, but it's quite a coincidence. We discover that we're being watched by an unknown enemy element, one that seems to know a whole lot more about us than we do about them, and suddenly a metahuman girl literally falls out of the sky right in front of us. The timing of all this is...unsettling."

  "Do you think she's connected to all that?"

  "It's too early to tell," he answered. "If she is connected with someone or something dangerous, we'll have more luck figuring it out if we can find her and investigate her ourselves. But something tells me she's not a threat. Whoever is watching us might be watching her, too. Maybe. It's just a gut feeling, for what that's worth. Have Jaa fire up the Angelus. I want it calibrated in twenty-four hours."

  "You think you'll find her that quickly?" Athena asked.

  Clawson looked at the hologram of the young girl one more time.

  "I don't know exactly when we'll see her again," answered Clawson. "But I want to be ready when we do. I think she might have been there to find us. If that's true, we might be seeing her again a lot sooner than you'd think."

  Athena nodded. She turned on her heel and left to notify the head of their technical division of his new orders. Clawson was alone after that, alone with the hologram of the girl. He searched her features, looking at her every facial feature, searching her lips, her chin, and even her eye color for something familiar to him. It wasn't long before he admitted defeat and retired to his personal living quarters and the bed he saw far, far too infrequently.

  Clawson slept for four hours after that. He awoke when the intel team notified him that they had a name.