Two Questions

Herr Doktor McZoff, internationally known practictioner and scientist, walked the streets of San Francisco in a hunched crouch, hiding himself from the pouring rain in his black overcoat and black umbrella. His assistants, Herr Doktor Kelseg and Mr. Fêinbérg, of the civilian sector, hurried behind him, sheltering as best they could under cover of awnings and balconies. But Herr Doktor McZoff paused for neither weather nor men, barreling through the downpour and leaving his colleagues to follow as they would.

At the corner waited a group of young men and women, huddling under a storefront, talking among one another. "I must speak to them," Doktor McZoff muttered to himself. His two assistants caught up to him as he paused. Doktor Kelseg spoke: "You must hurry."

The three lifted their heads and listened. Over the relentless pounding of rain, they heard it: the dread sound of the Jagermonsters' pursuit, the hunters that had dogged them for days.

"We will distract them," instructed McZoff firmly. "Mr. Fěinbèrg, of the civillian sector, and I will go one way. Doktor Kelseg will go the other. Then, when Mr. Fẻinbérg, of the civilian sector, alerts me that the Jagermonsters have lost us, I will emerge and ask the question."

The three nodded; then Doktor Kelseg turned on his heel and ran down the hill, seeking shelter in a store open even in this dismal weather. The other two moved quickly the other way, seeking to cover their tracks.

It was Doktor McZoff the Jagers soughts; still, Mr. Fĕinbèrg, of the civilian sector, was uneasy as he waited in front of the building in which McZoff hid, watching for signs of pursuit. After a few minutes, he heard the sounds recede into the distance, towards the direction in which Herr Doktor Kelseg had gone; he gave the all-clear, and Doktor McZoff emerged. Again he hurried, rushing towards the group atop the hill, and it was all his assistant could do to keep him in sight.

Doktor McZoff stopped, just short of the group. He listened. "Are the Jagers returning?" he asked his companion.

"No. I can hear nothing from them; it seems Doktor Kelseg has successfully lost them, for the moment."

"Are you sure?" McZoff asked again, uncertain. "If you are wrong, you know the consequences."

A man from the group, hooded in black, came forth. "Fear not," he said, his voice resonating with otherworldly power. "The Jagers are far from here, and shall not soon return."

So McZoff drew the greatest of that group aside, and spoke to her, the sound of his words lost in the rain. He listened; then turned aside, as the woman returned to the gathering. "Damn," he swore. "Damn!"

Herr Doktor Kelseg arrived, panting, scratches red down his side. "What did I miss?" he asked. "Did you get the answer you sought?"

McZoff heard not. "Damn," he said again, softer. "That snake Haraguchi got here first."

"There is nothing I have he cannot take away."

-

Hours passed, and the rain continued; only slowly did it begin to lift. The three, McZoff and his assistants, separated for a time to attend to their own affairs; a Jager scout misled, a patient tended. Then, together again with the others for planning, Mr. Fėinbérg, of the civilian sector, was surprised to see Doktor Kelseg then, moments later, Doktor McZoff both raise their heads and fix them to another direction. "What is it?" he asked, noticing nothing out of the ordinary.

Both Kelseg and McZoff began to move, walking swiftly in the direction from which they came moments ago. "It's her," McZoff said over his shoulder. "The one who's been lost all these years."

"What?" asked Feinberg. "Really? I saw nothing."

Moments later, he amended himself: "Oh."

There she sat, in a restaurant, the Wooden Wall, beneath an table-mounted umbrella: there, as she had promised so long ago, before her disappearance! "This could give us the edge we need - the edge over Haraguchi!" Doktor Kelseg cried, articulating what they were all thinking.

They approached; traded tokens of identity, to show that they were who they appeared to be; then withdrew.

"Is it worth the risk?" McZoff fretted, rubbing his hands together. "If we fail here - if we're unprepared - this could end it all, for ill as easily as for good."

"What choice do we have?" Mr. Fêinbèrg, of the civilian sector, argued cogently. "We - and you especially - have never been one to shy from the necessary. In the surgery, so as in life."

McZoff nodded, decisively. "Then let it be done!" He strode to the table; spoke with the woman. His assistants followed, argued with him in the discussion that followed. The woman spoke; McZoff punched out a whale. She spoke again: McZoff cured cancer. Then Mr. Fęinbérg, merely of the civilian sector, turned his head for the crucial moment - and it was over.

"What happened?" he asked afterwards. "Not failure - surely, that is clear - but?"

The rain slackened; diminished to a drizzle; then nothing, leaving a thick fog in its place.

Herr Doktor McZoff, master of medicine, bane of the Jagers, bearer of the Great Quest, scowled. Then - at last - he explained.

"The end of this story, she said;

would have to wait for another day."