“You don’t need to know why,” Connor said, “just accept that you are.”

I gave in to Connor’s demand, stopped questioning, and gave over to simply thinking free form. I never used to take into account such concepts as “the grand scheme of things.” Working in my current environment and having this power, however, it had become more and more obvious that the grander scheme was something I needed to figure into both my own life and my work.

A grand scheme meant some sort of planner and that brought to mind the larger question of theology. Was I experiencing, through my power, a direct relation to God or several gods for that matter? Did the divine even factor into it? Was I predestined to be a lowly thief and con artist all those years to put me on the road toward fighting for Good? My criminal past didn’t seem to jibe with living the life of the righteous and good.

My mind was going off on tangents piecing details together, but I needed to get back to basics in my head, and my thoughts drifted to Irene. I contemplated all the points where our lives intersected, the commonality between us, and like a divine spark, it hit me.

“I have it!” I said. The three of them turned to me expectantly. “Well, at least I think I know the significance of the name ‘Salvador Breton’ anyway.”

“Please,” said Connor as he poised his stylus over his Palm. “Enlighten us.”

“This may not have to do with anything,” I said, “but if any of the finer points of this case are connected, I think that foundation has something to do with the Surrealist movement.”

Blank stares from all around. Finally, Connor said, “Go on.”

“You know I have a somewhat shady background in art history so bear with me for a moment if I get all lecturey. When you have my ability, you take an interest in the art world. But Surrealism wasn’t just an art movement; it was a serious way of life for people. To that point, there was a huge blowup, in the thirties I believe, between two of the leading fathers of the movement, Salvador Dalн and Andrй Breton.”

“I’ve heard of Dalн,” Jane said. “He did all those creepy stilt-legged animals and melting watches, right? I think I’ve seen them at MOMA, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this Andrй Breton character.”

“Not surprising,” I said, feeling quite juiced now that I was in my element. “Outside of the Surrealists, few people knew him, but he’s a poet who was regarded as the ‘pope,’ as it were, of the movement. Eventually he kicked Dalн out of the elite inner circle of Surrealists because he was considered too far right-wing, and if you can believe it, even too extreme for them.”

“That issaying something,” Connor said.

“I know,” I said, nodding. “There was a huge falling-out in their circle, and it upset Dalн greatly. His pissy response to it all was, ‘The only difference between me and the Surrealists is that I am a Surrealist.’ The whole movement started as a very literary thing, but eventually their philosophy snowballed until it became more like a religion.”

“I’m not sure how all this fits into what’s going on here,” Connor said. “It sounds like the foundation may take its name from them, but to what end?”

“I’ll tell you,” I said, excited by my sudden epiphany. “As an artistic movement, the Surrealists are big on the symbology of the fish. In the twentieth century, it’s a reoccurring motive in their artwork. It we extend that artistic use of it in form and theme into the lifestyle and not just the art, the fish takes on a totemistic nature. Meaning-”

“There’s a power in that wooden fish,” Connor finished. “Good work, kid. Of all fish that Cyrus hunted out, this was the one that eluded him, probably the only one he really wanted. Why else would he let all the others go up in smoke?”

I stood up. “I’m not sure, but maybe the F.O.G.ies will have some insight now that we have an idea about the fish. They must have been around when the whole Surrealist movement was going on. I’ll ask the Inspectre.”

I looked to Jane. “You going to be okay?”

Jane smiled. “As fine as an ex-cultist hiding from a contract killer can be.”

“Play nice with the other kids,” I said, “and have Connor get you an iced mochaccino. They’re to die for.”

I ran back toward the movie theater section, leaving Connor and Jane to themselves. I’d find a way for those two to bond or die trying. I continued farther back to the offices and through the desks and cubicles before hitting the stairs leading up to the Inspectre’s office. Once again, I walked in on Argyle Quimbley just as he was settling down behind his desk with a cup of tea. He looked up when he saw me coming through his door and his face fell. He set his cup down.

“Easy, son,” he said. “Nothing too loud. The spirit-or should I say spirits-of Eccentric Circles still pervades me…”

Trying to contain my excitement, I quietly described what Jane, Connor, and I had been discussing. When I was done, the Inspectre remained silent.

“I thought maybe the Fraternal Order of Goodness might have some insight?”

“Ah, yes,” the Inspectre finally said. He seemed to be struggling with what to say. “I will certainly pass that information along to the other F.O.G.ies, but I’m afraid I can’t comment on it myself.”

I looked at him, puzzled. “Sir…?”

“Until I’m actually in council with the other members of the Fraternal Order, I’m afraid I can’t discuss our take on the situation just yet.”

“But you’re part of the D.E.A.!” I said, confused.

“The Order works outside the confines of the D.E.A.,” he said. Why was the Inspectre stonewalling me?

“What’s the blasted difference anyway?” I said out of frustration.

“Ah, well, thatis something I can tell you,” the Inspectre said, warming. “Being part of the Department of Extraordinary Affairs is ajob -a worthwhile and important job, but a job nonetheless. The Fraternal Order, however, is a way of life, reaching far beyond the confines of what this office can do. Unfortunately that means we keep our own counsel. I’m sorry.”

The Inspectre seemed sincere and a little sad, but right now I wasn’t having it. People I had come to care about were at stake.

“Fine,” I said, heading for the door. “I’ll be sure to send a funeral wreath to your next meeting if Jane gets killed in the meantime.”

“Simon,” the Inspectre said, trying to stop me, but I kept walking. There was work to do, people to protect.

35

Apparently, what I said had more of an effect on the Inspectre than I thought. Minutes after I returned to Connor and Jane, rumors of the Inspectre calling the Fraternal Order into secret session were flying. An hour later, those rumors were confirmed when the office erupted in a flurry of activity. After using my information as a springboard, the F.O.G.ies finally agreed to merge their information with the rest of the Department, and since I had pegged the Salvador Breton Foundation as the group we were looking for, piecing together a plan became remarkably easy.

We overheard from the Enchancellors that F.O.G. had even called Director Wesker into their secret session to find out what he had gathered in his covert ops at the Sectarian Defense League. Luckily, his cover had proven to still be safe. Wesker had learned of an upcoming gala cosponsored by the Sectarian Defense League and the Salvador Breton Foundation. The one thing that both the D.E.A. and F.O.G. agreed on was that something big was up, and with Wesker’s help, invitations were secured.

None of us were quite sure what to expect, but the decision was made to crash the gala-the smaller the team, the more unnoticed we would be. The Inspectre hand selected me, Connor, and several members of Shadower team for the mission. Since Jane wasn’t part of the D.E.A., she hadn’t been invited to our little party crash.