From: "Francis Escuadro" Okay, my previous story "A World Crumbling..." has now been re-christened "A Simple Twist: Prologue: A World Crumbling..." So here is chapter one. Hope you like it! I used my interpretations of each character's relationship. If it is screwed up, it's all my fault. Category: P, ALT, E Rating: TVPG (I decided to switch to TV ratings, because, well, it fits) Disclaimer: Don't own any of them, but technically, the people who _do_ don't use 'em, so why can't I? Anyway, don't sue. A Simple Twist: Chapter One. "Ripples" The funeral was meant to be small. Just some of the immediate family, and some close friends to pay there respects. That was how it was _planned_... Things didn't exactly turn out that way. The story of Jonathan Quest became the new "Lindbergh Baby" of the decade. Despite vehement protests by the family, the media coverage surrounding the funeral had everyone remotely connected to the Quests attending. The country was fascinated by the story of the bright, young, and successful young doctor and his equally bright, young, and successful wife. The Quests tried to turn away the attention, but they were too exhausted from grieving. They just tuned out the commotion. Rachel's father, Doug, tried to control the mob in their stead. He was not doing that well. Some guests were welcome, like Alena Stasny, one of Benton and Rachel's dearest school chums, now an up and coming senator in the Czech Republic. Alice Starseer, a former student and confidant of Benton's also showed up. In other circumstances, Rachel might have minded the presence of the young Native American woman (and even Alena's, to a point), but there, at that time, nothing mattered but paying proper respect to her son. Even Phil Corven, Dr. Quest's liaison with the government, was welcomed as a familiar face. Other guests were not as welcome. Nor as familiar. "May I help you?" Doug Wildey said, with a suspicious look. He was getting tired of crashers. Some people that were _not_ on the list and had never even _met_ his daughter or son-in-law before kept trying to sneak in. They kept chanting that they were "bad" or something and wanted to console Benton. This was a child's funeral, for God's sake! "Yes, I'm an old acquaintance of Dr. Quest...Benton. We went to college together. Just call me ...Joseph." I believe my name is on the list? Doug checked the printout that had just spooled out of the dot-matrix printer connected to the computer Benton and Rachel had set up to lighten there work load. They weren't up to doing this by hand. 'All this newfangled technology' Doug thought to himself. 'Even overheard that that thing is connected to a phone line, or some such nonsense...' "Let's see, what was your name?" Joseph told him. Doug scanned to the very end of the list and found it. "Ah, okay. Go right in, Joseph." "Thank you." Joseph went in. He avoided the cameras and the hosts, keeping a very low profile, just absorbing whatever he saw. Looking at Benton Quest's expression as the funeral closed, the pretense of "Joseph" fell away, if just for an instant. And in that instant, plain for all to see (if anyone had noticed), Dr. Zin was a very happy man. ***** The door to the plush office opened as a slim, baby-faced man entered. "Ah, Corven. Good to see you. What can I do for you?" "General, it's about the Quests. Are you familiar with them?" "Yes. Good man, if a bit naive. Very useful to us." "Well, their son was killed, in an attack. Intelligence believes it was a planned attack to get at the doctor." Corven said, a bit tentatively. "What! Corven, Benton Quest is an asset to this country! We can't lose him at this critical juncture in our operations! Any further attack, or kidnapping, of his family can have severely adverse effects on our tech development. What are you planning to do?" "I've decided to assign the Quests a body guard, pending your approval. I've searched through personnel files for the top field agents qualified for the job, and here are some candidates. Here's my first choice. Roger Bannon." "hmm. Bannon, huh? What are these things under "Special Non-Combatant Skills"? "He's been schooled as a tutor, sir. Officially it is for the purpose of schooling any underage, high-risk, charges. Unofficially it was something to keep him busy because he finished the courses so quickly." Corven gave a wan smile. "Do you really think that two of the most brilliant people in the United States will need a tutor? Bannon can be better used elsewhere. What's your second choice?" "Here, sir. Right now he's prepping for a mission. He is planned for a much bigger role in the operation, but I have put this at top priority due to the long range implications of this assignment. In fact, Bannon is one also involved in the mission." "His file seems in order. He'll be perfect. Pull him off the front lines immediately. Oh, and try to console him. He'll see this as babysitting. Just tell him it'll give him more chance to see his wife and kid." "Very good sir. By the way, this has been classified as an official assignment by the high brass. File 037." "Fine. Just get things done." "Yes sir." Corven left to give the assignment to one of the most trustworthy, with Bannon, agents in I-1. He left to find Ezekiel Rage. TO BE CONTINUED... hmm. I'm not sure about this chapter. (Of course, I say that about all my work) I think it packed in sufficient twists. The prose seems a little awkward, however. I might make a revision (probably not, but now I've said it publicly.) Let's see, I (sorta) introduced Race, I introduced Alena Stasny, Alice Starseer, Phil Corven (and the big one) Dr. Zin! I also fit Rage in (in pre-insanity state) I also have an idea on how exactly to introduce J&J HR into this fic, hurdling the quite daunting obstacle that one of the J's is dead. It might be too far out though (not in the 70's way, the unbelievable way) so it might become a splinter reality from the one developing here. Maybe not, if I'm too lazy to develop two timelines. As always, C&C is appreciated, flames are not, and money is humbly accepted. (But not _too_ much. I don't want to get sued) Feyjin End 1... From: "Francis Escuadro" Author's note: There's a little something special in this part for you CJQ fans out there. (Or you who have been to Lyle's excellent site.) Also, see if you can explain some of the allusions in here. The timing is a little weird, but the timeline for JQ is hard to define, and this is an alterniverse anyway, so the heck with it. This part can really fit anywhere in the released parts, either after part 2 or before it. Its quite a shortie, though. Category: ALT, P, V Rating: TV-Y Archiving: Take it! Disclaimer: If I owned anything in here (besides the actual prose) I'm sure by now I would have been forced at gunpoint to produce another season. Do _you_ see new episodes? A Simple Twist, First Interlude Comment Une Vie Change... by Francis "Feyjin" Escuadro Flash: Eight Years Ago, Panagua. Special Agent Code Name "Raven" of Intelligence One breaks into the Panaguan consulate clad in the skeletal costume suitable for the Dia de los Muertos. He enters into the main offices with little incident. After photographing incriminating documents, he is interrupted by a soldier guarding the grounds. "Raven"'s eyes are burned into the memory of that soldier during the scuffle, but the soldier is overcome, and Raven gets away. He blends into the gleeful crowds, slowly makes his way to a shadowy corner, and pulls of the skeleton costume to reveal a business suit beneath. He leaves the square, enters a car, and drives off, never having to run back to the square pursuing an errant child, nor ever having to see that Panaguan soldier again. Flash: Seven Years Ago, Cali, Columbia Special Agent Roger Bannon comes home to his wife and daughter, officially retired from duty after a string of successful missions, paired with just as many near-mutinous actions. Due to his new occupational status, he is able to reconcile things with his wife, Estella, and a year later move his young family to the United States, where Estella has earned a prestigious museum job. Race settles down to the slightly less dangerous (yet nonetheless exciting) life of part-time military consultant and physical trainer. The daughter, Jessie, is doted on by her parents and grows to be a smart, strong, outspoken young woman. The Bannon family live a nice, peaceful life in the Southern California suburbs, only traveling abroad for their annual vacations. Flash: Six Years Ago, Key Largo, Florida A small pet shop, popular among the young tourists visiting the tropical resort, receives a litter of puppies and puts them out for display. The residents of another small island nearby, a scientist, his wife, and his bodyguard, pass the shop without a second look. If they had brought the rest of their party, the bodyguard's wife and daughter, they may have stopped to look at the new puppies. As it was, a cute bulldog puppy with peculiar black coloring around his eyes on an otherwise perfectly white body is bought and named "Endymion" by a young girl who is a fan of Japanese Anime. Flash: Five Years Ago, Calcutta, India Due to a questionable mental state, Doctor Benton Quest sends a proxy to give a presentation on the benefits and dangers of sound waves. The proxy, an unremarkable man named Frank Allen, is seen as no danger to a ring of nerve gas manufacturers testing their wares in the area. They make no attempt to dispose of him, and only later is their mountain base in a place called Barat closed by Interpol. A mystical street urchin lounging outside Calcutta University goes unnoticed, only later to be taken in and raised by his friend, a street peddler. To be continued, in the present... Appendix: 1. The title means "How A Life Changes" in French (at least, according to the Altavista Babelfish Electronic Translator.) Interpret as you will. 2. I picked Cami, Columbia because, besides being one of the three Colombian cities I have heard of, I thought Race could have met Estella there while investigating the cocaine cartel based there. Don't try to get any historical accuracy out of me. I'm working straight out of the encyclopedia, and I'm not sure how up-to-date the info is. 3. I wonder if anyone will catch the allusion in the third vignette, so I won't explain it here. I know the timing may be a little early for the allusion, but nobody's perfect. Part 2... From: "Francis Escuadro" k, I'm finally getting back to work on this fic. It's been a while since I've thought about it, so some of my ideas may have been lost (I know they're in here _somewhere_) but I'll work with what I have... Quick author's notes. Things in double quotes (") are spoken. Things in single quotes (') are thoughts. Some of the character's may seem out-of-character, but what do you expect, It's an alternate universe. You'll see their old selves surfacing in due time. Most of them, at least. Category: ALT, E, implied A, some H (depends on your sense of humor. Mine is admittedly odd) Rating: TV-Y, pretty tame, this one is... Some language, but I'm in high school, so I don't know what's acceptable anymore. Seems like everything is, nowadays. Archivers: Take it if ya like's it... Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. It's too messy, in legal terms. A Simple Twist, Part 2 Mental Health and Oblivious Living by Francis "Feyjin" Escuadro Ezekiel Rage sat quietly mulling over his coffee in the cozy house he shared with his wife and daughter on the Quest's Massachusetts property. He was thinking about _them_ again. His wife, Abby, noticed. "Is it still so bad, Zeke? It's been eight years." "Outwardly, they're fine, Abby, but it's the small things..." "My husband, the psychotherapist spy bodyguard. Emphasis on "psycho". Zeke smiled. Abby took the news of his job much better than he would have thought. Especially when he mentioned that the job was getting them a cushy residences in both a beautiful part of Massachusetts and an equally beautiful island in Florida, not to mention friendship with two big celebrities. That smile faded, however, as his thoughts wandered back to his friend, his _best_ friend, Benton Quest. "It's in his routine now, Abby. Right after ...Jonny died," Zeke hesitated, trying to remember the name of the long dead child, "he walled himself off from everyone, even Rachel, and started working nonstop. Even if he has gotten over it, which I doubt, he's gotten so used to doing this that he does it on autopilot. He's opening up, but he's still pushing himself much too hard... It's not healthy. He gets about four hours of sleep a night and works another eighteen! His only non-work thing he does is play with Karla for a little while and maybe some conversation with me. Now, I know we have great discussions, but I don't think it's enough to preclude anything else fun!" Zeke gave a wan smile. "Hopefully now that the Questworld project is over, the development can be handed over to the other techs at Quest Enterprises, and he can slow down." Abby sighed. They had this discussion almost weekly, but she had to admit he was right. "Hopefully. Rachel needs him. It's helping her, not to mention me, to just have girl talk again, but they need each other! They're great with Karla, but there's this ...look they get in their eyes. Its like they bottled up their emotions, and hid it from each other." She sipped her coffee. "They need to talk about this." They sat in silence, thinking of the people that have become almost family to them. "I tried to get I-1 to get a therapist to talk to them, but because this routine is getting them technological results much faster then any of their projections, they _want_ to keep him like this." Suddenly, the security alarm blazed. "Damn..." Zeke swore under his breath. He grabbed one of the non-lethal incapacitators out of a sliding panel on the wall. "Abby, go to Karla. Make sure she's okay." He ran out into the night and stopped short, his jaw dropping. He thought he saw a spider. A _big_ spider. Upon closer inspection, he discerned it was a black ball with very thin, spindly legs. Not altogether intimidating, if you could discount its size. That size was a little hard to ignore, however. It was approaching the mansion rapidly, already having ripped out the security fence. Zeke raised his weapon ineffectually, when suddenly light blazed from the top of the lighthouse not far from the mansion. A large beam hit the spider, enveloping it, and lifted it over the edge of the peak, subsequently imploding it. The torn remains fell to the rocks below. Zeke was surprised, to say the least. He ran to the lighthouse, sputtering. "Doc! What just happened there?!" "Hm? Oh hey, Zeke. What's up?" Benton said, absent-mindedly. "Didn't you see the large, intimidating, THING out there!? Didn't you notice the alarm! Didn't you notice the annoying, flashing red emergency lights that are going on as we speak!?" "Huh? Oh, actually I didn't. Iris," he said, speaking to the air, "Emergency over?" "Yes, Dr. Quest." A feminine voice said, in a surprisingly rich voice. "Then turn off that racket" he said, bending back over his work. Zeke stood there silently for a few minutes, incredulous. "Uh, Ben? That beam back there. That new?" "Huh? Oh yes. Now that I've finalized the software/hardware bundle for the Questworld commercial package, I didn't have anything to do, so I made practical some of the theories about remote matter kinetization. Simple tractor beam hooked up to the security sensors and tactical computers. That programming for that is brilliant, by the way." "Thanks. And Iris, she sounds different, and strangely familiar..." "Oh, I hope you don't mind. During lunch I cooked up a wave-pattern algorithm for the synthesis of age from simple voice recordings. I used Karla's voice, okay? That's how she'll sound when she's about twenty. Pretty useless, but I didn't have anything to do." Zeke shook himself out of the stunned, open-mouthed silence he found himself in. "No, that's okay. Uh, you might want to think about that attack. Someone did attack, with some pretty impressive technology. Don't you want to know why? Or what they wanted?" "Oh, just file a report with I-1. They'll look into it. And we're safe here anyway, if they come back. This is one of the most secure residences on the planet, mostly because of you." Benton smiled at his friend. "Well, I wish we could have gotten some samples from that thing. It might have helped the investigation if you didn't destroy the weapon" Zeke said disapprovingly. He quickly relented though. "Well, you say you don't have anything to do? That's great! Why don't we all go out tomorrow. Play some tennis, do something _out of routine_." Zeke emphasized the last three words. Benton's eyes clouded. He looked genuinely scared of the prospect. "I don't know..." Zeke continued. "...It'll be good for all of us to get out of this cramped compound, so let's do it, okay?" He put a steely glint in his eye. 'I sympathize, I really do. God knows what I would do if Karla died, but I'm going to get him to do this if it kills me. It's for his own good.' he thought. Benton saw that glint. "All right... but—" "Benton," Zeke warned, "don't make me bring Karla and her puppy-dog look out here..." The eminent scientist shut his mouth slowly. He then smiled brightly. "Don't _you_ work for _me_?" he questioned. "Nope. That's just something we made up to make you feel more important. Iris, activate program-code AG" Zeke smiled as he said the words. "Activated." Another feminine voice intoned. "New Artificial Intelligence Persona loaded." "Suze?" he asked the new AI. "Lock down archives. No access allowed, priority code 'All work, no play." "Archives locked. The access privileges of subject: Benton Quest and subject: Rachel Quest are now suspended." "Oh, and don't let Meach get control of the system," Zeke said, referring to another AI in the Quest's computer system. "She's liable to override the last command for Benton." 'I swear she's got a crush on him...' Zeke thought. "Thanks, Suze." "You're welcome, Zeke." Suze said. 'Was that suppressed laughter in her voice? No, it couldn't be' Benton thought. Zeke broke into his thoughts. "Go to bed, Ben." Not that Zeke really believed Benton would, but he would make up for it tomorrow. He'd make sure of it. *** The Southern Californian weather was typically beautiful. Jessica Bannon breathed in the cool breeze as she ran through the park. If it weren't for the winds, the day would've been unbearable. As it was, it seemed a whole lot more comfortable (and a lot less humid) then Jessie's childhood home of Columbia. Jessie had moved to the States when she was about seven, and loved it. It wasn't only the weather that made her feel this way. It was her parents. For a little while their relationship was touch and go, because her mother didn't like her father's job, and it's unusual hours. Everything was better, however, when Race Bannon was officially "retired" from service because of a record number of successful missions. That, and the fact that the upper brass didn't want to deal with his just-below-insubordination attitude. They couldn't very well fire him without an uproar from a lot of other agents, so they got rid of him, with a generous severance package and pension. This was far from Jessie's thoughts, however. She was running home, eager to see if her dad had remembered his promise... She ran through the suburban neighborhood to a cozy, two story house of slightly Spanish architecture. She ran through the yard to the kitchen, squealing with unsuccessfully restrained excitement. "Hi Mom!" She said quickly, absently kissing her mother on the cheek. "Where's Dad?" Estella Velasquez smiled at her daughter's excitement. "He's in the living room. He was trying to put something together, or something. He was looking for the hammer earlier..." "What?! If he...no, he couldn't! Ooooooooh! DAD!" Estella chuckled as Jessie tore out of the room. She became downright hysterical when she heard a frightened yelp come from the next room, in Race's voice. Race held up his hands in surrender. "Jessie, Ponchita, calm down. I didn't do anything..." He glared at his wife, who had just entered the room, still laughing softly. "Here you go." He handed his daughter a pristine, shrink-wrap intact box with a stylized "Q" on it. "Ohhh, Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!" Jessie ran up to her room, clutching the state-of-the-art Questworld Consumer System (Green edition.) "Teenagers..." Race grumbled, with a smile. Jessie had been following the technology ever since the news first hit the Internet, and had waited for this moment for five months. Her friend Kris had been a beta tester, and even with barely any content, the system was awesome. Jessie, however, was the first one in the county to get a final system, complete with a Questnet satellite connection. "Life is good." Jessie thought. She quickly but gently took out the earpiece visor, followed by a smooth, palm sized case that contained the custom processor, a disk drive, and a whopping gigabyte of QuestTech brand RAM. The whole system was voice operated, and there was a tiny and invisible microphone built into the earpiece. Impressive system, yet with Quest Enterprises revolutionary manufacturing and design techniques, the whole thing was relatively inexpensive. Not bad for a complete VR system that could do anything from games to three dimensional scientific simulations. It could even do word processing, either with a virtual keyboard or pen, or pure dictation. Ostensibly, this system was to help Jessie with her homework. Right. Jessie busily started setting up the system, oblivious to the heavy make out session that started downstairs as soon as she left the room. *** The weather wasn't as inviting in Calcutta, India, however, as a tall turbaned teenager noticed, before ducking into a nearby shop to escape the heat. "Hey Pasha! I'm home!" Hadji Singh yelled out to his guardian. Hadji unwrapped the now-soaking turban from his head, mopping off the sweat from his forehead. Truth be told, he didn't particularly care for the turban, but he wore it both to please and honor Pasha. Underneath, his hair was styled into the "hot" look of the season, his black hair pulled into a ponytail, with the front slightly spiked. Hadji pulled off his sunglasses as he scanned the junk in Pasha's shop. Pasha himself came out of the back room. "So, you with Lesli again?" He said with a smile. "Hope you didn't forget your _job_ just because you're 'hopelessly, hopelessly in love'" "Pasha, you know me. Does the sleeping tiger ever miss a meal?" Pasha groaned. "Man, I wish you would quit it with that proverb stuff. It's getting annoying." "Here," Hadji said, grinning at Pasha's reaction. "I managed to lift some of the better material and equipment from those sweatshop-keepers at the northeast part of town. Serves them right. Remember, though—" "...All profit goes to the poor, I know, I know. Sheesh. I know you're the best thief in all of Calcutta, but for once I'd like something to show for it..." Pasha trailed off, not wanting to instigate another rant (or God forbid, another proverb) from Hadji. "Anyway," Pasha continued, "I got a surprise for you. I managed to wheedle a great price off that contact you made on the internet. And I bought it with money made from legal scrounging, so here." Pasha thrust a lightly wrapped package to Hadji. He never was comfortable with giving things, even gifts, away for free, even to the boy he thought of as a son. "Is this what I think it is? Yes! You even got the color I wanted!" despite the fact that Hadji was well respected (even feared, by a misinformed few) by all of the street toughs of Calcutta, he could be just like a little kid sometimes. Hadji ran to his room above Pasha's shop, eager to set up his Questworld System (Royal Purple edition). To be continued... Whew. This part could've kept going on and on, but I decided to cut it off here. A lot of the stuff I _was_ going to put in this part will be held off to the next part, which is already written and will be out soon. My beta readers, if you had anything to add, sorry for sending this out prematurely, but oh well. Part 3... From: "Francis Escuadro" I actually got this done ages ago, but I hadn't sent it out yet. Sorry. Authors Note: Sorry it's short. This can be seen as an expository piece, nonetheless with an important event, but mainly setting up the next parts, the main body of the story. Category: ALT, E, A, Rating: TV-Y Archiving: Take it. TakeittakeittakeIT! Disclaimer: Hanna-Barbera owns Jonny Quest and all related personalities, places, and material. I don't. That may explain why this is written, rather than being lavishly produced into a rather lengthy animated feature. A Simple Twist, Part 3 "With Obsession, Comes Regression" It was a normal, quiet night at the Quest Compound in Rockport, Maine. The night was clear, and countless stars could be seen. An easterly breeze brought in a tinge of salt air, permeating the property. Night birds chirped, softly. All in all, a peaceful scene. One of the residents of the Quest Compound was hardly at peace, however. Benton Quest sat awake in bed, trying to pull as much comfort as he could out of the warm embrace of his sleeping wife. Still, something bothered him. It wasn't the same thing that haunted him for eight years, although it had to do with that, but an idea. An idea that recently came to him, one that he could realize fully. An idea that was quite possibly a bad one. He couldn't get it out of his head, however. Fed up, he slowly disentangled himself from his wife's arms, and got dressed. After kissing Rachel gently, trying not to disturb her, he went to his lab. He sat there, thinking. Wondering if he was about to cross the line into insanity, just by following up on an idea. He sat there for a long time. **** "Ya-HOOOO!" Jessie Bannon yelled as she tore down the trench in her A-wing starfighter, dodging laser fire in a desperate attempt to feed the space station a few select proton torpedoes. She jinked, trying to lose a TIE Interceptor on her tail. She pulled into a tight loop, one impossible in atmosphere, and punched two red laser bolts into the enemies Twin Ion Engines. Unhindered, she made a run for the reactor vent, when suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the countdown timer that had been running for the last five minutes. The counter that had five seconds left on it. Just as she was about to hit the trigger to launch the torpedoes, she was pulled out of Questworld, allowing a farm boy from Kentucky in an X-wing to win the game. "Damn!" Jessie yelled, both glad and frustrated that her parents weren't home. Glad, because they couldn't hear her. The Questworld system had a parental control in it, right down to a timer that restricted access. Jessie couldn't disable it without a parental pass code. When one of her parents was home, however, they usually just left it off, preferring manual control. Jessie was still working on hacking past the restrictions. Defeated, at least for another few hours, Jessie went for a run in a nearby park. She had noticed that her physical condition in the real world carried over into Questworld (otherworldly physics notwithstanding) so she kept herself in peak condition. Besides, her father would kill her otherwise. After her run, she decided to go see her friend Kris. They had to set up strategy for their next multiplayer game of Gotham: Heroes and Villains. Kris was kicking butt as Batgirl, but Jessie still needed practice working alongside her as the Huntress. Also, they needed to hack the costume designs into something that a person could actually _fight_ in. They had some heavy duty planning to do. Not to mention serious discussion about this _really_ cute guy they saw at the mall. ***** Benton had made his decision. He just wasn't done rationalizing it yet. 'I need this. I... it's necessary. For me. My sanity.' Then why did he feel like he was giving up his sanity in doing so? 'It's for the best. This'll help everyone. When my time travel program didn't work... I just wish I had those Anasazi writings, they would have helped with that part of the technology, but I can't see Alice without Rachel being suspicious... This is the next best thing.' He decided. "Iris." he said, voice cracking, "Full Stealth mode. Sound dampeners at full. Complete lockdown. Security recorders off. All processing power now dedicated to this workstation." "Open Voice Aging program 'KARLA'. Keep open, copy algorithm and append to QuestSketch Police drafting software, beta 3. Save as new file...'Fast Forward.' Load files of folder Juliet-Bravo-Quebec," he stated in military alphabet, "Modification Value, 8 years. Do the same with program 'KARLA' and recordings in same folder." He made some changes in the programming from his keyboard. "Execute." "Done." Iris said, after a small pause, voice calm. "Create New Artificial Intelligence Persona. Use the new image template and resonance files we just created. Compile text of files: 'Journal' and 'Letters' in same folder. Append to standard vocabulary dictionary. Analyze speaking style. Use analysis to create behavior protocol." He took a breath. "Analyze speech in chat rooms T1 through T9 of Questworld. Analyze tone and use of nonstandard words. Modify protocol and vocabulary accordingly." Benton waited for a few minutes. "Analysis and changes completed, Dr. Quest." "Create detailed files compiled from all media, text and otherwise in source folder. Use program "Timeline' and use all visual, tactile, and other sense data to create files. Load result into AI template memory." He took a deep breath. "Compile with latest, most advanced Artificial Intelligence creation program. Load new AI." "Proceeding... Loading New Artificial Intelligence..." A new face appeared on the monitor. A teenage boy, with blonde hair and blue eyes, a smile on his face suggesting good humor, intelligence shining in his eyes. "Welcome Jonny." Benton said, smiling sadly. "Welcome home." The End Just kidding. To be continued...