Snake in the Grass
     The tallest building in the Triumvirate was Python’s Headquarters. It not only stood head and shoulders above all the other ordinary shops and businesses in the area, it had the striking appearance of a mirrored Egyptian obelisk. If the city-state was a board to play chess upon, then the Python building was the Queen. It towered over everything that had ever been built before it, and influenced everything in its sight lines. There was a clear view of the entire region from its citadel. The only thing that restricted its power was the curve of the planet. If the world had been flat it would have had no limit to its jurisdiction. The building literally had no equal architecturally or visually. If you could see it, it could exert its power over you.
     While it was under construction the site was prepared like no other. The work was competed by prison labor at an astonishingly fast pace. The pilings seemed to reach the center of the earth. The com tower literally scraped the sky. The gleaming glass sides of the building reach uninterrupted into the clouds. The area surrounding the building was an ultra high security no man’s land, decorated with high tech cameras and robotic weapons. Nothing was allowed to enter its air space. No one was invited to tour the grounds.
     To the Average Joe the building was a mystery. Nobody had any idea of its inner workings. No one ever seamed to enter or leave the building, in fact it didn’t appear to have a door at all. Everyone assumed that it was serviced by a tunnel, but that was strictly conjecture. No tunnel to the building was ever discovered. It stood  magnificently unapproachable and inscrutable in its bleak compound; its machinations were a mystery to the common man. It was referred to by the masses as the Steely Dan. They had no idea of the nature of its power or the reasons for its striking appearance. Python only had a hand full of employees.  When power is concentrated to the extent that it is unparalleled in history, you don’t need an army to wield it. Just a few power hungry sociopaths would do. One of them had been the illustrious employer of The Invisible Man.
     The Governor was a man who new intuitively the nature of power. He had not been born rich or above average in anything. He wasn’t tall or handsome or charming or likely to quote the Bible. He had a foreign accent , and the features of a man who had used steroids to build his body, and had worked very hard to improve the body God had given him. He had not invented Python, but had instead controlled those who created the technology at the university. He was the arranger of meetings, the facilitator of dreamers, the conductor of schemers. It was a tragedy that  his fortunes had ever spiraled upwards, but they did so with a  wretched trajectory that was appalling to watch. Doors flew open for him. Opportunity courted him and eventually the powerful bowed to him. It was believed that Python had been his towering achievement, but this was not so. His great achievement was realizing the potential of Time Bending Technology before any of the click heads who  invented it knew what they had created.
     Originally the scientists  had believed they were creating a tool for the cheap transportation of massive numbers of  soldiers. They had worked tirelessly  with the hope of discovering a clean technology that would revolutionize transportation and lead to a new era of timeless travel. No more hitting the road with 19th century inventions., vulnerable to the elements and prone to accidents The scientists called them Light Motion Interfaces, but you and I would have instantly recognized them. The  brave new world would be the child of  super-collider discoveries that had lead to the most human of inventions - the mirror. The Governor had always liked mirrors.  The first time he had stepped through the gateway he had instantly grasped its potential. The click heads at the university were unaware that their most important client would instantly turn their creation against them. Like Pandora opening her box, the few scientists who worked on the project were surprised at the speed with which their discovery  set upon them. Their first adventures had been innocent  and playfully - surprising an old friend with an unexpected visit, or showing up unannounced during a spouse’s latest tryst. They were so eager to show the Governor the success they were having,  they hurriedly and breathlessly arranged for him to experience the thrill ride for himself. A demonstration was arranged for the Governor and a few of his close associates. I called them associates, but  assassins would be a more accurate description of them.
     Upon returning from his first  journey the Governor had arrested all the bright young minds in the room (they were all there). They had all fitted their own homes with Light Motion Interfaces, and the Governor used these to collect their families and loved ones to ensure their complete uninterrupted cooperation. The marriage between constant surveillance and instant occupation meant that no one  involved in the project  was able to escape. Soon the project was expanded  and the Governor’s rivals were disappearing into thin air. Steely Dan was not a building at all. It was a giant Light Motion Interface. The long mirrors in the dance academies, hotels, shops, homes and hospitals were all methodically converted to interfaces. Any mirror that was tall enough for a man to step through could receive an operative if a path was cleared between it and the obelisk. All that was necessary for a successful operation was the global position of  the mirror and the presence of  natural light in the room. Although only organic material was able to make the timeless trip, that was sufficient to make the weapon practically invincible
                                                                                                                                                    The story continues....