And, so, singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" slightly off-key due to chattering teeth, Maximus' rust-colored cape snapping in the Ontario breeze, the migrant grape pickers drew ever closer to Toronto. Sid knew they would come. He had no doubt of that at all. That was why he so carefully....

*****************************************************

....hung the scraps of Big Blue from the top of the CN Tower. It was his way of announcing his vast superiority over all the other characters, and especially that obnoxious Pittsburgher. Looking through his binoculars, he smiled to himself. There they were... wallowing like castaways in their miserable "craft" as they neared the Toronto marina. He shook his head in total disdain at the sight of them. Could they BE more predictable...more... more... inept?

Jack hooked his elbow over the side of the rowboat to steady himself and then scanned the skyline with his telescope. He followed up the slender length of the CN Tower to the very tip where two small pieces of something flapped in the strong wind. His seagreen eyes narrowed as he peered in great concentration, trying to discern what they might be. "My God!" he gasped, sucking in such a sudden, strong breath that a floating seagull feather lodged in his esophagus.

"What is it?" Juditha, Joimus, and Phyllis all shouted at once.

Jack lowered his telescope, looking at the 3 women. Phyllis, her soul tortured with terrible distraughtiness, could not wait for him to dislodge the seagull feather and form words. Grabbing the scope from his ice-cold fingers, she looked for herself. "NooOOOoooOoooOoo!" she moaned, instantly recognizing the scorched cuff and piece of collar. "He's hung Big Blue from the tallest thing in the city!"

"Big Blue, eh?" said Joimus, her brow creasing in thought (she had failed to learn to knit as a girl and so her brow could only crease, alas). She looked at Juditha. "Sid is sending us a message."

"Wha..what does the message SAY?" Juditha asked, a sudden chill shaking her.

"It says, 'I have them and YOU will never find them.'" Joimus said. "He is so confident he can outwit, outplay, and outlast us that he is blatantly advertising his crime," she added.

If Jack had not still been wresting the quill from his uvula, he would surely have said, "There's not a....etc."

Juditha was becoming quite concerned for the Captain. Not only was he rather blue from the icy waters he'd been swimming in for most of the day, but the large wing feather was giving him one heck of a time. "Might I assist you, Dear?" she asked, knowing that her years as a South African ostrich wrangler could well prove useful at the moment.

"Glurfftbffttt!!" he said. She took that in the affirmative, though truly it had rather a negative tone to it, and reaching one dainty hand in past his incisors had, in a single well-practiced motion, snapped the quill in half and removed it with very little actual loss of blood.

"Does he need the services of a nurse?" called Franki hopefully from the next rowboat.

"No!" Juditha replied firmly. "My...um...services...are ALL the Captain needs."

"I have a suggestion!" shouted the mermaid from the front of the boats.

"What is it?" asked the not-really-interested Sue the Vile.

"Paddle FASTER!!" the former Welshwoman hollered as her chin dipped beneath the surface. "We're SINKING!!"

By George, they WERE! No one had really noticed, what with the excitement over the flannel-sighting and all, but the lake was definitely just about to board the boats. Good it was that they were close to the shoreline for in addition to the imminent foundering, Terry's ability to maintain his equipment at that 90 degree angle its being the mainmast required of him was well-nigh at its ending.

Maximus stood up, furling his rust-colored sail...er.. cape. Annsmac gently lowered Terry's equipment, concerned at the whiteness of his face and the dark circles that had formed under his eyes. No one knew what the strain of the crossing had cost the K&R agent, not even Johnny, who knew more about difficult crossings than most. "Easy!" Terry cried through clenched teeth.

Annsmac smiled. "How about a really Big Easy?" she queried, not being one to miss a plug for her city. She settled his equipment safely and softly across her lap, still concerned about its bluntness and hoping against hope that some form of sharpening device could be found in a city so large as Toronto.

Jewelie, paying no attention to the fact that the lake waters were almost up to her knees in the rowboat, frowned at the skyline. So very, very many tall buildings. How would she ever find Jim amongst them all? So deep in concentration was she that when the rowboat slipped quietly beneath the lake, she just automatically began to swim, not taking her eyes off the city that loomed before her.

Cort, as his misadventure in Lake Aswan had proven, could not swim. Mary was quite delighted, as were all those, like her, descended from the DolphinFolk of the Aegean, to swim beside those in need. She was happy, too, knowing that once ashore, the beholding ceremony could take place. Indeed, several of the women wore grins at the thought of the wet Cort they would shortly see, such was his power over even those thoroughly devoted to other characters. Why, it was widely known that Joimus herself would actually divert her eyes from Roman regions to behold a gloriously wet Cort.

One by one they straggled out of Lake Ontario and onto a grassy area of Harbourfront Park. They sat there, wringing the skirts of their gowns, or their uniforms, their cottontails, drying off their bottles of soy sauce, their cutlasses, their pucks. Several innocent Canadians passing by stared in amazement, having never witnessed the like of this bedraggled and... um...unusually clad...group.

One man stopped and stared, his mouth slightly agape, until Amanda, her temper frayed by her icy swim to shore, snapped, "Have you never seen migrant grape pickers before??"

"Um, Amanda?" BertiWise said softly to the Californian. "We might have to cool it with the grape picker thing. I don't think there are all that many vineyards in downtown Toronto."

Amanda considered this thought for a time then said brightly, "I know! We are wandering performers who...who...."

"...Have escaped from the Shakespeare Festival at Stratford!" added the Countess, who did, indeed, look rather like she had recently escaped from...somewhere.

"Well, I don't know how useful the word 'escaped' might prove to be, but Stratford is not ALL that bad an idea," pronounced BertiWise in approval.

Amanda grinned and stood, lake water still streaming from her skirt. She pointed at the nearby CN Tower. "But soft, what flannel from yonder tower flaps? It is Big Blue's and Himself is the dawn...."

"Ack!" said Phyllis.

Maximus, smelling of wet faux fur, studied the battlefront. He faced Joimus, calling her name softly to turn her attention away from the sopping sheriff. Actually, there were two sopping sheriffs, Beibe being thoroughly wetted, too. Cort, though, had learned just to stand there silently, wet hair strands plastered across his face, clothes clinging crinkledly to his skin, and let the beholding occur. Beibe, coming from colder climes, was busily squishing his bearfur hat.

Buggie, watching, knew she would have to give him beholding lessons. She smiled. It was not an unpleasant thought.

Joimus looked fondly at the General. It was good he was so well able to swim despite his 450 pounds of armor. Flicking a dead fish off his shoulder, she gave him her full attention. "There are three of these modern 'Ways' between us and the Tower," he said, indicating the Queen's Quay, the Lake Shore Boulevard, and the Gardiner Expressway. Indeed, they were practially one on top of the other, so close were they.

Hando spoke up, "Follow me. I know my way around underpasses better than the lot of you put together."

Susan, clutching her poppy pot, remarked, "You will refrain from pounding any of the locals, one hopes?"

The Melbourner batted his eyelids, grinning. "Does one now?" he said, deliberately lowering his voice. Scooting through traffic, ignoring signal lights, Hando guided the group up to Front Street, where a flight of steps led to the entrance of the CN Tower.

"I thought this was still called 'Earth'," growled Maximus, looking at the large Planet Hollywood sign to the left of the stairs.

"No," offered Buggie with a bit of wry humor, "it was taken over by Hollywood sometime in the last century." She gazed smilingly at the General. "And you helped."

"I most certainly did NOT!" he spluttered.

Joimus patted his arm. "You did, Maximus, truly you did. But it was more Himself's doing than yours."

At the mention of Himself, Phyllis' eyes sought the top of the giant tower.

"Do you suppose....?" she began.

"I doubt that Sid would be so obvious as to hang the remnants of Big Blue where he actually has Himself," BertiWise interjected, "but we must check, of course, as we have no other leads."

Leaving puddles of Lake Ontario in their wake, the cast climbed the stairs, crossed the plaza, and went down the glassed walkway over the many railroad tracks. Once they had descended the escalator and gotten to the ticket window, Joimus gasped when she saw the prices. It was $19 Canadian EACH just to get to the lowest observation level.

Countess Patricia, in a gesture of true episacrifice, said, "Give me a moment," and hurried back up the escalator, disappearing from view.

"Where is she going?" Joimus asked Alex.

Alex just stood there, shaking his head in wonder. "I think I know. I saw a sign for it as we crossed Lake Shore Boulevard."

"Sign for what?" Joimus probed.

"You'll see," was all he would say. Within half an hour Pat was back, a grin on her lips but rather a sad expression in her eyes. "Did you?" Alex greeted her.

"I did," she said.

"Prince William's?" he asked, then added, "The five iron?"

"The whole set," she replied.

"Even the putter?" he exclaimed.

"That, too," she admitted.

"What ARE they talking about?" asked Wanda, overcome with the curiosity that comes from living with too many cats.

"St. Andrews," Alex explained. "The city golf and driving range is just a couple of blocks west of here. She sold her clubs."

"Oh, PAT!" cried Joimus, "Not your St. Andrew's clubs!!!"

Pat just spread out a goodly supply of Canadian money in her hands. "The good of the many outweighs the good of the few...or the one," she said Trekkily.

"Thank you," Joimus said sincerely as she counted out enough money for them to go to the highest level and then purchased tickets. They went up a spiral ramp to the security area.

"What now?" asked Anna Shadow, recalling the various weaponry possessed by the cast.

BertiWise eyed the row of Coke machines. "Here!" she said in a voice that brooked no denial. "Give them to me!" She went down the line, collecting swords, switchblades, six-shooters, cutlasses, pucks, stopping at last in front of Terry. "Then there's YOU," she said, shaking her head. "How DO we get you through the detectors?" She quickly stuffed the weaponry behind the Coke machines, then looked at Annsmac. "Any ideas?"

Annsmac strode boldly up to the guard. "We have come to deliver the new support beam for the Tower," she announced.

The guard turned toward Terry, eyeing his equipment. "A bit too long, don't you think?" he said.

"No, it's NOT too long," Annsmac replied irritatedly. "It's just right. It's ALWAYS just right."

"Looks a bit blunt to me," the guard added. "The Tower is really pointy, you know."

Annsmac frowned. "The de-blunter will take care of that minor issue."

"Doesn't look all that minor to me," the guard insisted.

"Will you stop quibbling and let him in??" she fumed.

The guard opened a special gate marked 'For Delivery Of Support Beams Only' and Terry walked through, trying not to grin. The rest of the cast cleared the security gates one by one and joined Terry at the second spiral ramp that led to the row of elevators. Once at the main observation deck they split up, trying to cover the entire circular area.

Jewelie stood, her palms pressed against the glass walls, despairing over the size of the city stretching beyond the far horizon.

Nash had become fascinated by the endless circle he could walk and, so, was going around and around and around the observation deck, wishing he had a bicycle or, perhaps, a wax pencil.

Jack, accompanied by a few others, decided to go down the flight of stairs to where the deck had wire mesh rather than windows. Here the wind whipped at them and when Juditha saw the Captain stop and a huge smile grow upon his lips, she knew that he was recalling his days of riding atop the main mast. "You will do so again, my Love," she said softly, coming close to his side.

"I think sometimes I've become so entrenched in epilife that I shall never see the Surprise again," he murmured, a faraway look in his seagreen eyes.

"Never fear," Juditha continued. "Epis can be quite full of Surprise. Or so I believe."

As though to prove her point, at that very second a highly trained seagull swooped past the mesh, bits of blue-checked flannel in its beak.

"Big Blue!" shouted Aubrey. "The bird has got the shirt!" Instantly he locked his telescope onto the seagull, following its descent toward greater metropolitan Toronto. In slow, almost lazy spirals the large bird flew downward toward a plaza in front of an architecturally-swoopy building.

Sid was out of sight, waiting for his pet, one arm extended like a falconer. It was, he thought, amazing what one could do with a seagull were one a superior being. He smiled. The other characters were so dense, perhaps he should leave another clue? After all, the caper would be no fun were they too far off track, now would it?

Maximus came down the steps, looking for Aubrey. "Jack," he said, "do you wish to accompany me to the higher viewing area?"

Slowly Jack lowered his scope, his seagreen eye looming large and filled with conflicting expression. "It is no longer necessary," Jack said. "Big Blue has been birded."

"Big Blue birded?" the General repeated, puzzled.

"Yes," Aubrey explained, "a seagull, obviously highly trained by some evil mind, has flown with it.... there." He pointed towards the swoopy building.

"What is that place?" asked Maximus.

"From the look of it, I'd say it was the international headquarters of the secret seagull underground," Nash added helpfully. "The Eritreans for some years now have smuggled missile parts across the border in capsules swallowed by large seagulls."

Maximus smiled but said softly to Juditha, "Find Franki." The General was concerned. Not only was Nash gathering loose magazines, but the seagull feather that had lodged in Jack's throat seemed to be affecting the Captain's mental abilities, too. Perhaps Sid had poisoned the quill?

Jack saw the concern in Maximus' eyes. "Truly!" he laughed, "A seagull DID fly by with the pieces of flannel in its beak."

Maximus narrowed his eyes, studying Jack.

"Was it calling, 'Mine! Mine! Mine!'?," asked Amanda, an indelible Pixar image having never really left her.

Jack shook his head, on the verge of losing his good humor over their disbelief. Nash had certainly NOT helped the situation at all. He frowned slightly at the Californian. "Could a seagull hold two pieces of flannel AND cry 'Mine!' at the same time?", he asked reasonably.

Amanda stuck out her little chin. "In Pixar...or epis...it could!" she stated firmly.

"They coat the capsules with peanut butter first," Nash spoke up, making Jack's situation worse.

Joimus had come looking for the General. "Did someone mention peanutbutter?" she asked, licking her lips. It had, after all, been quite some time since nourishment...in any form...had found its way down her digestive tract, food being almost as rare in epis as money.

"I did," Nash continued, ripping neat sections of magazine pages with the aid of a small ruler. "They found the seagulls didn't really like chocolate sauce."

"AUUGGGGH!" Jack bellowed. "A seagull DID have Big Blue! It took it THERE!"

Everyone looked through the wire mesh where Jack was pointing. "The secret seagull underground headquarters," Nash said. "Where ELSE would a seagull agent take it?"

The Captain advanced upon the mathematician, his fingers curled in what looked suspiciously like choking-position.

Bud leapt upon Jack, getting him in a head-lock. "No character-throttling on MY watch!" he cried.

"Is this YOURS?" Zack asked, holding up an expensive wristwatch.

"Where did you get that?" shouted Phyllis, grabbing it out of Zack's hands.

"I found it lying atop the fire alarm," the Woo...er...agent replied.

"It's HIS!" Phyllis said with certainty.

"His?" Zack repeated.

"HIMSELF'S!" Phyllis said.

"Let GO of me!" bellowed the Captain to Bud. "It's not your watch!"

"I never said that was my watch," Bud roared, indicating the item in Phyllis' hands.

"You did!" cried Jack, rubbing his neck.

"The seagull left it," Nash pronounced seriously. "We had better check it for missile parts."

Meanwhile, Joimus was busily thinking "Watch. Hour? Minute? Time? Time! TIME!! Time for...for...for....?" A shrilling siren filled the air. "Ah," thought Joimus, "time for...alarm."

The fire alarm had been remotely triggered and people were pouring out of the huge Tower like ants out of sticky Coke bottle. "Time to go!" she said loudly.

"Where?" asked Zack.

"THERE!" Juditha proclaimed, her voice full of Captain-confidence. "Where Jack said Big Blue was taken."

Joimus narrowed her blue eyes. Sid was toying with them, leading them here and there on wild seagull chases.

She was right, of course. As Sid left the plaza, the pleasant sound of the CN alarm system making sweet music in his ears, he smiled. If only they..

....were not so dull of mind, he wouldn't have to keep guiding them like sheep. He grinned broadly as another comparison came to him....or like cattle to a Chicago abattoir. Yes, he liked THAT one a lot! That was even better than leading lemmings into a region of cliffs. He closed his eyes, smiling at the mental image of Maximus toppling thousands of feet into the sea.

Our cast, well...those of them who were neither evil nor captured....ran down the steps, pausing at the curb of Front Street to get their bearings. Beibe, however, pointed out that all their bearings had been left in Uganda and they would just have to keep going without them. Aubrey was upset. "I NEED bearings!" he bellowed. "I have crew members who do nothing but provide me with bearings!"

The problem was solved when Maximus, his gladius retrieved from behind the Coke machine, strode into the street, stopping the oncoming traffic with a glare. He was magnificent in his 450 pounds of armor, his rust-colored cape billowing behind him, his neatly-bearded chin lifted defiantly at a taxicab. He had the bearing of a true commander and, as that was the ONLY bearing that remained to them, the cast followed him into the street. "We go North!" he pronounced and there was none to say him nay.

After about 5 blocks of northgoingness, they arrived at Queen Street and, looking down to their right, could see the swoopy buildings. "THERE!" Aubrey shouted. "That's where the seagull took Big Blue."

Franki noticed as they headed in that direction, that Nash was walking close behind Bud, matching him movement for movement in an effort to make himself invisible from the front. She came up beside him and said softly, "John, why are you hiding behind Bud?"

His cheek twitched a little as he looked at the nurse. He had hoped no one would notice his carefultudiness. She was smiling kindly, though, and the way she carried that lamp in her hand and the way the seven bluebirds sat on the shoulders of her cape engendered a certain feeling of trust in him. "I can't let them see me," he explained in a whisper.

"Who?" Franki asked.

"The seagull scientists. In there." He raised one hand to indicate the ever-closening swoopy buildings.

She studied the buildings. There were two main sections, each formed in large curves with a white dome in between them. There WAS something rather seagull-like about their appearance. And the large plaza in front of them was certainly covered with seagulls, some walking about, some sitting atop a series of arches, some clustered near trash cans. Others were keeping close watch on humans who sat on concrete benches, eating snacks.

"They notice everything," Nash continued. "And little cameras implanted in their eyes take photographs of every one who comes into the plaza. If they see me....they will...." His voice trailed off.

"What will they do, John?" Franki probed.

"They will know. They will know...that I know." He shuddered at the thought then looked at her long and hard. "No one but me knows about the cameras. So I can't let them see me." So intent was he on his conversation with Franki that he failed to notice Bud's sudden halt. He plowed hard into the cop's back.

Bud whirled, his hand already forming a fist as he turned.

Maximus grabbed his forearm. "That happens to me sometimes...in battle," the General said, recalling a barely stopped sword-thrust in a Germanian forest. "He's one of our men. Let him live."

Bud glared at the mathematician. "Back off, Nash!" he growled, then stomped over to where BertiWise was standing.

Aubrey joined them. "Damn lot of gulls," he grumped. "How will we find the one with Big Blue?"

"If only there had been a little more left of Big Blue, our task would be easier," added Phyllis. "But no matter how small the scrap that remained, Himself always felt fully clothed when he wore it." She sighed fondly at the memory of him standing in Mary's dining room with just the one scorched cuff and the bit of collar.

"I heard the Smithsonian wanted to put it next to Dorothy's ruby slippers," Amanda said. "You know...two famous things from Oz."

Joimus walked up. "I haven't had any lines in this epi yet," she said, "Might I say something?"

Ando, whose tailfin was nearly worn away by so much contact with pavement and who felt like she had aged another year since the epi had begun, as indeed she truly had, glared at the Pittsburgher. "Please don't."

Joimus batted her eyelashes at the former Welshwoman then walked silently over to a bench, sat down and took the keyboard out of her gossamer backpack. She tapped her forefinger on her cheek as she tilted her head up, lost in serious thought. "Hmmmmm?" she murmured. "We've done the sewers of Malta, and the seaweed entrapment in the River of Pain, and the digestion by giant sandworms, and....."

"Remember the magazine!" Ando called out desperately.

Ah, yes. Ando had mailed Joimus a British periodical that was unfindable in the western regions of Penn's Woods. "Truly....I do!" Joimus smiled back, "but...."

Her sentence structure was severed by a wild cry from Nash who then tried to duck beneath the rust-colored cape.

Maximus spun on his boot heel, pulling the cape out of Nash's grasp. Pittsburghers under the cape were one thing, but West Virginian mathematicians were quite another.

Nash sank to his knees, burying his face in his hands. Franki knelt beside him. "John! What is it?"

"It took my picture," he sobbed.

"He was photographed?" Bud asked. "By whom?"

Nash pointed one finger shakily at a large gull sitting on the rim of a fountain. "Him! HE did it!"

"The SEAGULL?" Bud snorted.

But Aubrey was staring at the bird. It had two small scraps of blue-checked flannel in its mouth. "He's the one!" Jack shouted.

"The one who took the picture?" Bud asked, looking at the Captain strangely.

"The one Sid trained to take Big Blue," Jack bellowed. "The one from the CN Tower!"

"He took my picture," Nash moaned again.

"He took Nash's picture AND Big Blue?" Bud asked incredulously.

"NO!" Jack shouted back, "He didn't take Nash's picture! He just took Big Blue!"

"He DID take my picture!" Nash insisted, getting to his feet, though clutching Franki's hand tightly. "I saw the flash when his eyelid closed!"

"Seagulls do NOT take pictures!" Jack roared.

Nash narrowed his seagreen eyes at the Captain. "If they take shirts, why can't they take pictures?" he asked reasonably.

"Because....because....because.....," Jack spluttered. "Damnation, Man! It's got Big Blue in its mouth right NOW!"

"And it's got my photograph in its implanted camera," Nash retorted. He gestured at the swoopy building. "And no doubt it's sending it into its headquarters as we stand here and argue."

"Headquarters?" Bud repeated.

"Yes," Nash said, "What do think this place IS?"

"Um, the sign says 'City Hall,'" BertiWise supplied.

"Do you really think they ADVERTISE its true purpose?" Nash said, shaking his head at her density.

Aubrey, meanwhile, had his tricorn in both hands and was creeping toward the gull, intending to enhat the bird. The seagull, well aware of Jack's intentions, let him get within a few feet then spread its white wings and sailed upwards, circling over the plaza twice as though to torment them, then disappeared behind the dome.

Nash's eyes grew wide. "It's taking my picture INSIDE!" he shook his head from side to side in despair. "I'm doomed."

"There goes Big Blue," sighed Phyllis.

"We've got to follow the bird," Jack said. "NOW!"

"Go in THERE?" Nash said in horror.

"Why not?" Jack asked, his hand coming to rest on his cutlass as he looked at the left "wing" of the structure.

"The Secret Seagull Underground International HEADQUARTERS?" Nash said in disbelief.

"It doesn't look underground to me," Jack replied, already striding across the plaza.

Sid, unseen, watched from his perch. There might not be any cliffs nor even any cattle chutes on the far side of the dome, but he had made.... arrangements. He had, indeed. He chuckled as he watched the cast trailing the determined Captain.