IDIOPOTENT

Chapter 1: Arrival

Truly, the sun never set on what was once the British Empire. The flight from Mumbai to the United States lasted a full twenty-four hours, including a London layover, and now the plane was landed at last in Dallas, Texas. Phinehas Cole slowly exited the ramp, trapped among the other passengers shuffling like a zombie horde into the terminal. For a full day he had watched them struggle to sleep, no easy prospect even in oversized transcontinental jets. Using myriad methods - neck pillows, eye masks, self-medication with sleeping pills or alcohol - and aided by the pure physical exhaustion that inevitably came with that much travel all at once, most everyone slept at least a little. He hadn't. Instead, he'd spent the time doing the crossword puzzle in the airline magazine, which was quickly finished, and anagramming former world leaders into historical events in which they were involved. Every so often, he had looked over the personal invitation he'd gotten from an old missionary doctor friend of his parents who had worked with them in Indonesia:

"Congratulations! Your father told me about all of your interviews. I know the United States is halfway around the world, but I've been asked to offer you an invitation to a quite unique opportunity in the state of Texas. You really must see it for yourself. Plane tickets are enclosed. I very much hope you use them. I am proud of you - I hope we cross paths soon.

- Dr. Paul"

The plodding push of passengers dispersed. Phin shifted his leather satchel and hitched up his backpack on his other shoulder. Whenever he flew, he liked to travel with carry-ons rather than check his baggage, and he didn't care to pack enough to justify a large suitcase anyway. He scanned the airport, almost entirely bare of people at this late – early? – hour, newsstands and shops grated up. His invitation said that he'd be met, but as nobody appeared as if they were looking for him, he took up a conspicuous position under a suspended screen turned to the news and waited.

He seldom watched television; as an unfortunate result of the fact, he had a tendency to be distracted easily by them. He decided that he was content with turning "US President Ronald Wilson Reagan" into "USSR? I arranged its end: 'Nope! No wall!'" and gave in to the distraction fully. The image beside the newscaster's head showed the capitol building in Austin, completely covered in ivy green. The building looked to Phin rather charming and noble in such a state, but the man read his teleprompter (Phin had rarely seen a news channel, but he did know how they worked) in a distressed tone. "...latest attack by the Greenhouse Gang. The group of self-proclaimed 'eco-liberators' has stated that its next target will be the city's sewer system. More on the story as it develops."

From behind him, a man snorted. "Like those hippies will even notice if their sewer system overflows. Am I right, Doc?" Phin turned, not at all certain that the voice was addressing him.

The man was shorter than Phin, and muscular like a bodybuilder. He was dressed as a pilot, chest and shoulders stretching his military-style flight suit, bowling-ball arms filling his sleeves. An embroidered insignia on his chest matched the one stamped on the invitation that Phin had received along with the booklet: an off-center circle with a crescent hugging its side, a winged figure over it.

"You're Dr. Cole, right? I'm Asher Brandt. Call me Ash. I'm technically a captain, but I don't like formalities, so don't 'Captain Brandt' me. What can I call you?"

The man fired words on full automatic. "My mother and father call me Phinehas." The few close friends he had called him Phin, as he did himself, but this man was a stranger.

Brandt nodded. "Mind if I call you 'Phin?'" Without waiting for a response, Brandt turned and waved to follow. "Nice to meet you. You look as young as they said you'd be. Anyway, I'm your ride. Got luggage?"

  Phin shrugged his pack and satchel higher onto his shoulders. "These are all I brought."

"Nice. Traveling light. Off we go then." Brant led away from the concourse. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting long," he said. "Me, I hate waiting." He turned his head and grinned. "I could give you my word as a Spaniard!"