I desire to go to Hell and not to Heaven. In the former I shall enjoy the company of popes, kings and princes, while in the latter are only beggars, monks and apostles

Niccolo Machiavelli


Moving slowly through the large, dimly-lit room, Chancellor John Goodman takes yet another notebook from the vast, carefully organized shelves on the wall. Sitting down into a strangely apropos leather chair he begins flipping through the densely filled pages. He stops and smiles.

“Ahhh…. Here it is.”

His lips begin to move slightly as he reads. Committing the passage to memory.

“This is brilliant” he says to himself (although if anyone had been watching him closely, they would have seen him mouthing those words as well). “Nakamura really had a comprehensive plan here. Everything has been thoroughly thought out. The formulas are are perfect, the implementation procedures, even schematics. Everything is here. I have all I need to… ”

The Chancellor’s thoughts are interrupted by a flashing indicator light from his private security detail. There to alert him that someone has passed the preliminary clearance and is now only a few minutes away from entry into this, his personal domain. “That would be that dope who calls himself Controller General.” He puts the book down and rises, straightening his clothes. “Time to get things rolling.” He says again to himself, but this time completely out loud. “This should prove to be a most efficacious day indeed.”

Moving with surprising speed and deliberation, the Chancellor crosses the room and disappears though the seamless, seemingly impenetrable barrier. Into the adjacent antechamber where all things Nurf create the illusion to any attending underling that he is (in spirit anyway) one of them.