by The Eurostar
Edulcore Cicciotto:
It's five minutes to six p.m. on December 31st, 2002, the last day of this incredible year. I am sitting at the table in the main dining room, waiting for the meeting called on by Kit Piper nearly one hour ago, when most of us were preparing the party for this evening.
The last few months have been intense. After the havoc caused on La Perdita by the hurricane, the vampires, and the Beast, and the loss of the PSI-Unit, we were helping to rebuild the island, its buildings, and its institutions. Then, many of us went away from the isle for personal business, to breathe fresh air, to leave behind the horrors we all witnessed.
Others, like myself, remained here to explore this lovely place that got so messed up, to know its inhabitants. For me, it was a nightmare at the beginning. Many strange people appeared looking for my sword Ladnikia, and I had a very hard time holding them at bay. Then, I kept looking for a certain breakdancing demon; I had many questions for him, but he seems to have vanished.
"He's away, but he will return in a few weeks," Chewy the bodyguard of the Jake's Place, the meta bar, always said when I got there, but weeks after weeks I never have been able to find him, and slowly I lost interest. I am sure, some nights, I have seen him in the darkest alleys of the town, but trying to following him always got no result.
After the hurricane, requests for hiring our company for strange missions were frequent, but busy with the reconstruction of the Complex, which is still not completed, we had to refuse them. Then, when all the guys that went away returned, and we were at full capacity, there were no more requests. It was like we were totally out of business. Kit was getting more and more depressed as each day passed.
Finally, the tide has turned, and someone is looking for our professional help to recover a long-lost book.
I close the newspaper I was reading, the usual stuff about metahuman discrimination in the U.S. and American products banned in Mandelovia, and a strange little piece about a whole fishing village disappearing in northern Norway.
I stand up and go to the east-facing window. I spread my regrown feathers, catching the last rays of the setting sun, then reabsorb them inside my arms.
"Hey, peacock, how's the sun?" asks Jackie, or Ameristar, as she wants to be called. Still an enigma for many of my teammates, after the adventure I shared with her, I know her a lot better, and I am more inclined to accept her witty humor.
After Ameristar, through the door comes Mick Harrison. Lately, seeing him not hand in hand with Shirley Francis is rarer than a panda bear. They have not yet tied the knot, but I wouldn't be surprised if they will announce it soon. He takes seat next to me and Ameristar.
His hat shadowing his eyes, Dirk Bell enters. He sits at the opposite end of the table, foot over the table, and begins to polish one of his big guns.
Everybody is arriving, now. Danny Hearn takes his seat chatting with his other-half brain, the one he calls Hal, and then talks to Phil Smith, the mentalist guy. I am not really aware of the full extent of his powers; I know he has telekinesis and some sort of mind-reading ability. I wonder... can he speak with Hal, too?
Grimm and Blackwulf the Everchanging arrive together; they are the best buddies here around. They knew each other from before their arrival here in La Perdita, and it shows. I still miss my best friends from the early Revolutionaries days: the mysterious Marv Velo, the young Tobias Christopher, the talkative Lance Lorenzo, and especially Naecken. Only two remain today from those fabled days: Danny and Mick. And while Danny, at that time, was not so easy to become friends with, with his slow adaptation to this era, Mick now has eyes only for his Shirley.
Luckily, I have found a true friend in Kristofer Schanz, or Chance, as he is codenamed (and he, in truth, alone among every other, gives a lot of importance to code names). He has been away for some time, exploring this world so new and different for him, at least to see how much it is alike to his former planet. Kris comes from a parallel Earth, a place similar to our own but with slight differences. I am fascinated from the tales he told me about that place. First, because the me of that Earth was a true hero. Second, because the place, although not perfect, seems a paradise compared to our own. It's surely the place where I would raise my son, when I will rescue him. I have no doubt that Kris is looking to find a way to return. "Hi, Chance!" I greet him as he enters the room.
Then arrives Tayden, the last recluse of our team, a fallen angel. One year and a few months ago, I wouldn't have believed it. Now the fact seems perfectly normal. I even find a sort of sympathy for him, as I have been, in another life, a fallen angel myself.
Now are arriving Grissom Montag, our security adviser, with his assistant Charley Montoya, and the enigmatic Priest. They, too, seem to have developed a sort of friendship. Danny looks askance at Priest. The big man arrived in the Complex to kill Danny and was easily asked into joining the team. At the time, it seemed almost normal, and since then, Priest has proved trustworthy, yet I can understand Danny's feelings.
The same uneasiness is between Dirk and me (and Chance), on the surface about the matter of guns, but at heart, I think it is more about opposite political visions. And, after all, me and Chance are Europeans, and in this year I have learned that we really see things differently than from our cousins on the other (on this, I should say) side of the ocean.
Another argument that has not been settled is between Chance and Ameristar. She is convinced that my friend is somehow connected to the mysterious Circle of the Hoods, the society that tried to kill me and Turner when we were traveling across America, stalking us by the omnipotent Giorgio, a sort of overpowered terminator. I am sure that it's all a misunderstanding, but it's easy to see that Ameristar has different ideas.
A young girl arrives and sits quietly, her usual innocent look on her pretty face. Her name is Daniela, and by any account, she should be dead. I killed her after she had become a vampire. My sword drank her evil soul. She should have fallen and vanished, incinerated, yet she had not. She was one of the PSI-Unit, and after the destruction of that team during the hurricane, she has asked to stay with us.
Lastly, with a big smile and some papers in hand comes Kit Piper, our financial adviser, our director, we could call him.
"Guys... and ladies... we have a job!"
There are smiles, hoorays, some grunts (you can imagine from who), and many curious gazes toward the paper.
"It's from an anonymous collector, a very rich collector, judging from the check he's sent for our first expenses."
"What is he collecting, Kit?" asks Ameristar.
"Books. Very old and rare books. He wants us to retrieve the only known copy of the Liber Vitae, a text that many consider written by Merlin himself: the historical Merlin, a British archbishop of the sixth century."
"And where is this book?" asks Grimm.
"Uh... It was last seen in the twelfth century at Canterbury, England."
"What? And how are we supposed to find it?"
"There is a clue. Recently, in the lower basement of the Uffizi Museum in Florence, Italy, a sixteenth-century painting by the Italian painter Tanfo da Perugia has been discovered, depicting the Portuguese explorer and condottiere Joaquim de Cuccubao. Tanfo was the official artist of the expedition that Cuccubao led in the heart of the Amazon jungle, looking for El Dorado, the fabled golden city. Well, to cut it short, it seems that Tanfo was the only survivor of the expedition, and when he returned to Europe, he painted a last picture of Joaquim. And in his hands, there is a copy of the Liber Vitae!"
"You mean that our only clue is a fucking picture? It's not a photo. Some asshole painter could have made it up!" shouts Dirk.
"No, I don't think so," says Chance. "First, at that time a painting WAS like a photo. They showed real things that the pictured one actually owned. Second, in the sixteenth century, there was no memory of the Liber Vitae; it's something that was totally forgotten by that time. So the artist had to actually see it to depict the book."
Kit continues, "More important, in the background of the painting there are images that can help you to find the place: mountains, temples..."
"Do you have a picture of the painting, Kit?" asks Ameristar.
"No. It's currently under restoration, and there is no image available on the Internet or anywhere else. So you'll have to introduce yourselves at the laboratory where the painting is worked over, photograph it, and then be back here to decipher it and to prepare the expedition. That said, I have tickets to fly to Italy for five of you. Danny will be appointed field leader. He'll choose the other four, and tomorrow you will leave. Now, I think there is a party to start."
At that moment, the door opens, and Shirley appears. "Hey, guys, you wouldn't believe who has returned!"
A blur, and next to Kit appears Tobias Christopher. Our speedster is back home.