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Chapter 1

His time was almost up and he knew it. Soon they would corner him and he wouldn't be able to escape. Not this time. Too many mistakes had been made and he was going to have to pay for them. But that's what happens when you're careless.

His life wouldn't be for nothing if he could find a suitable carrier. That could be the difficult part. These thoughts and others ran through the mind of the lonesome stranger.

Flying in the dark was fun, but not when it's raining. It beat on his back like a hammer. The more he listened and concentrated on the rains echoes through his body, the more radical his thinking became. He always rejected what he was and the things he was. He just would not accept the facts. He was so sure that his protege would have the same problems. He would be an outcast in his own mind. An infant with the knowledge of an elder, however.

It wasn't a nice thing to wish upon someone, but it was necessary. Maybe this new person would be able to achieve what he had not. It is possible to change societies beliefs if they would only face the facts, was a motto of his. But that sounded strange coming from a man who couldn't even do it.

Suddenly, without warning he was rocked by an incredible wave of a powerful aura. It made him drop a couple of feet in altitude. He searched frantically for it's source. Since he was extremely sensitive to psychic anomalies, it didn't take him very long.

He landed on the ground near an apartment complex. He walked through the complex tracking the aura to its source. To his surprise he found a young adult male. He followed him for awhile as he went door to door receiving money. 'Easy life', thought the stranger. The young man turned in his direction as if he had heard the thought. Not seeing the man in the shadows, he closed the little book he was carrying.

"Excuse me," the man made his move. "Could you tell me where the nearest motel is?"

He could tell that the younger was frightened, but was quickly regaining control. Was it because of his cape? He wore one on occasions just to stand out. That had been part of his mistake. He was still fascinated by some of the much older styles of dress.

"If you go down this road," he pointed to a nearby street. "You'll end up on Jacky. Make a left and keep going until you stop at a four-way intersection. Turn right and go down that road. You'll see a place called Lakeside Motel. From what I hear it's pretty good," directed the young man.

"Thank you son," said the man as he put his hand on the guy's shoulder. He was strong and vibrant, full of energy on the mental side. On the physical side he was tall and scrawny. He was average and probably recently turned eighteen. As he touched him, he sent an impulse through his body just to insure their meeting again. Then, without saying another word, he left. The money collector could only stand and watch him go.

He followed the instructions exactly and found the motel. It was elegant looking enough, for a presumably hick town. What would the inside hold in store? He found the registration desk and signed in as Gerald Cockland. It was a name he had never used before.

As he stood looking at his new name, he began thinking of all the aliases he had used in his past. Hance Jockey was one of his favorites. After he was done with his job and before they found him, he would have to write another book about all his little adventures. It would probably be a best seller.

He had already started a couple of manuscripts, but they would be guides and answers for his protégé in addition to the ones he already possessed. What a lives he thought and then laughed. What a concept!

Realizing that he was hungry, he called the front desk from his room and ordered room service. Fifteen minutes later, it arrived. Actually, she arrived. Tall and brunette and verbally not too bright, "I'm off work, but I wanted to see what you looked like, since some of the guys were talking about you," admitted the woman.