Just as the man was about to be close enough to force a physical confrontation, Cliff suddenly found himself surrounded by a glowing orb of red light – or at least, that was what it appeared to be, though within an instant it did something that mere light couldn’t do. It suddenly began accelerating upwards, carrying him along with it. Up he went in the bubble of light, faster and faster, until suddenly it disappeared. Cliff kept going upward from the sheer momentum that the orb had left him with, but was now slowing down as it was no longer there to keep pushing him up.

As the upward momentum finally ran out, and Cliff began descending in a state of freefall, he felt certain that this was the end of him. Suddenly, however, he was caught in another orb just like the previous one, only larger, that began safely slowing his fall. He then noticed that this larger orb carried not just him, but his vehicle as well. Finally, this orb too disappeared, and both Cliff and the vehicle were safely on the ground about a mile away from where the first orb had picked him up – twenty feet from the road.

* * *

Jennifer Marcus stood still as a statue as, along with the others, she watched Isaiah approaching the strange man in the motorcycle suit. And it was the most peculiar motorcycle suit that this guy was wearing! Without a jacket, it already looked like a suit that was more meant for a stunt show than for the road. And as for the decorations – she had seen all kinds of decorations on the helmets and jackets of motorcyclists, but to see one who used maps as a decoration motif was still unexpected.

But this guy was not just wearing maps as his decorative motif. He had three copies of the exact same map on his suit - one on the forehead of his helmet, one on his chest, and one on his back covering the area between the shoulder-blades.

Maps! Maps. She remembered – maps were a major obsession of her brother, Cliff. He studied maps whenever he could get his hands on them – and went to the bookstore on a daily basis for that purpose. Maps were surely something he would use as a decoration motif if he rode a motorcycle.

And suddenly, looking at the man in the stunt suit, something gave him away! It may have been something in his posture, something in the way he spoke, or a combination of things – but whatever it was, she recognized him! It was none other than her brother, Cliff! What was he doing in a motorcycle suit? And why was he here?

Suddenly, her consciousness was pulled back into a room that existed in her mind. It was a room that represented her mind – and in a sense, was her mind. This shift was sudden, but not at all jolting – and she remained aware of what her physical eyes were seeing, but it was now as though she were watching it on a viewscreen. Around her, visions of her thoughts and memories flashed on the otherwise dark walls. Besides this, the room didn’t really have any features – because, after all, it wasn’t a real room, just a construct existing in Jennifer’s mind.

A door opened into this mental construct of a room, and in stepped someone who looked just like her, except for the fact that she was dressed in a beautiful white robe. This girl was familiar, but Jennifer couldn’t say from where. But the resemblance in appearance wasn’t just superficial. The girl who had just entered the room was linked to her – was part of the same —

This line of thought came to a sudden halt when the visitor approached and tapped her on the arm. She suddenly stopped obsessing about who this girl was, and about where she had seen her before. Both of them, instead, focused on the viewscreen that was relaying what her physical eyes were seeing – where she could see her brother in that strange motorcycle stunt-suit.

“I will take these thoughts for safekeeping,” the girl in the white robe whispered into her ear – and suddenly, Jennifer’s recognition of her brother faded into oblivion. She had no idea who this strange man in the motorcycle suit was – and the only thing she saw as special about the suit’s map motif was that it was a most unusual motif for a motorcycle suit.

“I was not here,” the girl in the white robe added, as she disappeared behind the door through which she had entered – and all of a sudden, Jennifer was back to normal consciousness, with no memory of having left it. She watched Isaiah approach the strange, unfamiliar man who identified only as the “map man”.

Suddenly, though, just as Isaiah was about to reveal the map man’s identity, the most unexpected thing happened. A perfectly round red ball of fire appeared around the intruder and flew up into the sky, vanishing from sight, and carrying the stranger with it. Jennifer stood there, dumbfounded. Everyone else standing there who had witnessed this strange event was no doubt dumbfounded as well.

Then, a thought passed through the whole group like an electrical charge – and into her mind popped the same idea that entered everyone else’s mind – to disregard the strange event that had just occurred and seek the relative safety of the bunker.

* * *

As Cliff looked in the direction that headed into the woods, he saw the strangest sight. Up above, in the evening twilight, a most unusual man was rapidly approaching him. He wore a red, long-sleeved leotard over a pair of red tights. His entire costume was red, except for his boots, his belt, and his near-elbow-length gloves – all of which were a red-tinted shade of yellow and had borders shaped in a fashion reminiscent of fire. Over his eyes rested a red eye mask, also designed with a kind of fire motif. But the costume wasn’t as odd as the aura surrounding him. It was a red aura which seemed to be made of the same energy as the orbs that had carried Cliff to where he now stood – only this aura didn’t take the shape of a sphere, but instead, covered this man like an outer suit, taking on his shape exactly. Coming out of this man’s back were two impressive, avian-shaped wings. They, too, looked like they could very well be made of the same energy, but they were more intense, and not so easy to see through.

As the man landed, the aura and the wings disappeared. “Go home, Cliff,” he said, walking toward him.

“Go home?” protested Cliff. “Who do you think you are?” He really wanted to ask the stranger how he knew his name, but didn’t dare bring that subject up – not yet at least.

“Who am I?” asked the stranger. “I just got you out of a situation that you were in way over your head.”

“I can’t go home,” insisted Cliff, “until I know what’s going on there.”

“Things that will make your blood run cold,” answered the stranger. “Have you ever seen people move around that silently?”

“No,” admitted Cliff.

“Or stand around that still?”

“No,” he again admitted.

“They’re cyborgs,” explained the stranger. “The one you were speaking to is the highest-ranking member of the network that they are all connected to. He is their king.”

“The Cyborg King,” gasped Cliff.

“Exactly,” said the one in red. “And walking into an area that he controls like that is suicide – suicide of the worst kind.”

“But I can’t just go,” insisted Cliff. “My sister is there.”