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Description
Michelle was knocked to the floor as she tackled me from the blast and knocked my glasses off. The whole house had shook, causing the smoke alarm to go off as the windows rattled.
I collected my glasses from the floor, discovering that they were undamaged. Before I checked on anything else, I checked on Michelle. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "What the hell was that?"
"Greg?" Dora called as the girls quickly came into the room. "What was that?"
"Oh no," Chellan gasped. "Maybe we shouldn't have come here."
"Is the house on fire?" Aswana cried.
Michelle and I jumped to our feet to check. "Greg, if there's a fire-"
"I know!" I grabbed the fire extinquisher from the kitchen counter. "Everyone get back!"
Using my shoulder to push open the fire door that hadn't properly closed and now was loose on its hinges, I burst into the garage to discover my workbench was on fire. I pulled the pin on the extinquisher and pulled the trigger, dousing the flames as best I could. While the flames were high, they had not spread beyond the workbench.
"Hand it to me and try to contain the heat!" Michelle cried.
I surrendered the fire extinquisher and used the power of my pearl to do just that, applying waves of cold air onto the smoldering pine hardwood. Michelle then moved in at that point and sprayed extra contents of the extingusher onto any smoldering embers. She then sprayed the curtains along the wall as a precaution as I continued to modify the temperature as best as I could. While the temperature managed to decrease enough so that Michelle could remain human, the colder temperature of the workbench did little to abate the flames.
"Is there anything we can do?" Dora asked.
"Call 911!" I cried.
Shelly had left the car running in the street and rushed up to the house. "What happened?"
"There was a bomb or something that came in the mail," Michelle said as she handed me the extinguisher. I took over and continued to hit any hot spots while Michelle moved away from the smoldering workbench. "Shelly, did you really just back out?"
"Yeah," Shelly said. "Was that a package? A package you just held."
"Yes." Michelle was suddenly catching her breath. She kneeled and continued to move back slowly against the wall while holding her fingers apart.
I continued to to spray the extinguisher onto the workbench and the surrounding areas, even though I hoped that I might have gotten every last spark silenced. For a moment, I glanced back towards Michelle, keeping a watch on her hands.
"Don't worry about me," Michelle said. "The curtains!"
The other side of the curtains had caught again, and I continued to spray chemical onto the fabric and along the backside of the workbench. I motioned for Shelly to take over. "I'm going to pull this off of the wall, keep hitting it with the fire extingusher."
Shelly took over and continued to watch for hot spots as I went to the south end of the workbench and pulled, using my power of telekinesis to assist my efforts. Because the workbench was bolted to the wall, I gave a lurching effort and heard the wood splinter as the eight foot bench finally broke free and slid into the garage. Chellan and Aswana jumped in at that point and helped me continue to pull the workbench further into the garage, and that's when Shelly came around to the backside and sprayed the back of the blackened workbench.
"The fire department is here!" Michelle said as she continued to remain along the wall of the house and avoid any exhaustion.
The local firefighters arrived and quickly set up their equipment. Within two minutes, the workbench and any hot spots along the east wall of the garage were steaming from the soaked pulp that had all but burned through the workbench's backing. Had I not pulled out the workbench out, it's quite likely that the embers would have spread, likely catching to the rest of the house.
"Is it out?" Shelly asked.
"Oh yes," Commander Nelson said. "What caused it?"
"I don't know," I said. "Michelle, where did you find that package?"
"Package?" another firefigher asked. "Was it a package?"
"Yeah," Michelle said. "It was on the ground by the garage door, just to the south side of the front stoop."
I turned to Dora and the girls. "You didn't see any package when you came in, did you?"
They shook their heads. "We didn't notice anything when we got here a few hours ago."
"Folks, can we confirm there was a package on this workbench a moment ago?" Nelson asked again. "What was in this package?"
"It was a parcel from the mail," Michelle said. "At least, I think it was. Did the mail come earlier, Greg?"
"I collected it around two," Shelly said. "Before you all showed up. There were no packages that I could see."
"Folks, if you say you recieved a suspicious package, I have to get the police here," Nelson said. "Can all of you confirm there was a package?"

Sure enough, my good friend Officer Jenkins arrived with her notepad in hand. Two hours later, she had statements from all six of us regarding where we had been moments before the package burst. I had given a full account of the package's description, though I had no idea how much it might have weighed.
"It was heavy," Michelle said. "I'd say it was at least five or six pounds."
"What size? Dimensions?" Jenkins asked. "You said there was no return address?"
Firefighter Kole sniffed the air. "I can't be certain, but I smell another flareup."
Dora, who was standing inside the house, turned. "The dinner!"
I rushed inside, followed by the firemen. I pulled out the rack and looked inside the cassarole. Everything inside the cassarole was caked in a thick layer of black cheese.
"That's roached," Firefighter Kole said. "At least it didn't combust."

Outside, Officer Jenkins suggested I call the postal service and begin an audit into any recieved parcels that had been processed in the past week, even though we were certain that the bomb had arrived sometime between two thirty and five thirty that afternoon. The firefighters stayed until almost a quarter to eight, when they suggested we call Servepro to clean up the garage. However, I immediately had to make an executive decision.
"There's smoke all over the house," I said as I suppressed a cough while we continued to discuss my options in the garage. "These women showed up today, and in all honesty, I'd have been hard pressed to find them places to sleep even before my garage exploded."
"From what I can see, your house isn't likely to re-ignite or have any security issues," Commander Nelson said. "However, it looks like your garage door mechanism was damaged and might not operate." He pointed to the pipe that ran up to the ceiling. "Your fire suppression system didn't appear to be operational or useful for the workbench, however."
"That's not fire suppressant," I said. "The point is, should I board up anything?"
"When was the last time you used the lock on your garage door?"
I shrugged. "There're a bunch of keys in the junk drawer."
Nelson nodded. "If you keep the non-functional garage door opener hooked up to the door, nobody will be able to operate it. The door appears to be damaged, but I do not beileve anyone will be able to enter using it. The back door that exits out into the back yard, meanwhile, was a fire door and appears to be solid."
"At least one thing worked like it was supposed to," Shelly said.
"As for the door to the inside, it is a fire door, but it took most of the shockwave from the explosion because it was not properly closed at the time," Nelson explained. "My guess is that you'll have to replace it at some point. For tonight, I'd consider putting a camera up or something."
"Yeah," I said. "There's no way we can stay in here tonight, regardless."
"On it," Michelle said as she made a phone call.
"I'm sure the officer asked this already," Nelson asked, "But are you really sure that there's nobody out there who might've sent you that package? Someone who doesn't like you?"
"I'm sure," I replied. "For all I know, the package might not have been intended for me."
"But it had your address," he said. "Just not your name. When did you move in?"
"It's been a long time, almost 2006," I hesitated. "No wait, it was the spring of 2005."
Nelson nodded. "And in all that time, you've never recieved any suspicious packages?"
"Not one," I replied confidently. "Thank you for all the advice."
"And thank you for coming so quickly," Shelly said.
Nelson tipped his commander's cap. "It's our duty, madam." He then turned to me and shook my hand. "I don't envy you tomorrow, Claxion, but if you have any more trouble, you let me and my boys know."
I nodded. "Thank you very much."
The firefighters pulled out. Dora came over to me.
"Gregory? Um, not to sound ungrateful, but-"
"Don't sweat it," I said. "Michelle said she'd take care of everything." I hesitated. "Did you meet Michelle yet?"
"Hello," Aswana said to Michelle, who had yet to move from her spot against the wall of the garage.
"Hello," Michelle said with a wave as she continued to talk into the phone. She finally stood up and began to talk into the phone as she walked out onto the driveway.
"It's like I told you, we're taking care of it," I said. "She's already got a hotel room booked. How many rooms should we get?"
"One," Dora said quickly. "One room for the three of us is fine."
I nodded. "Okay, consider it done."
Michelle gave a glance, and continued to talk into the phone. "Two rooms with two beds, please. Non smoking rooms would be best."
Right about then, I recieved a phone call. Having collected my cell phone after discovering dinner had become a flambé, I answered it to find a pleasant surprise.
“This is John from Bloomington Servepro. Am I speaking to Greg Claxion?”
“Yes sir,” I said. “Er, did someone give you my number?”
“Actually sir, I’m calling to confirm your appointment for tomorrow morning at ten AM.”
Huh? “May I ask who arrainged the appointment?”
“Unfortunately, sir, I was given specific instructions.” He then repeated my address and phone number. “Is that your contact information?”
“That is mine,” I said. “Yeah, ten AM, sure. What will this cost me?”
“This service is being covered by a third party, and again, I was given special instructions,” John continued. “All I need from you, sir, is a verbal confirmation over the phone and then a signature tomorrow when our task is complete.”
“Okay,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to minimize smoke damage?”
“For tonight, you’d actually be better off turning off any exhaust fans throughout the house, along with any non-HVAC systems. Because it’s winter, you’ll want to keep the furnace working, but part of the package that you’re recieving will cover a complete filter package for the HVAC systems in the house, a cleaning of any exhaust fans, and a complete cleaning of all fabrics and desmogging of carpets or furniture.”
“That’s, er, impressive,” I stuttered. “Like it never happened.”
“That’s our goal, sir,” John replied. “Do I have your confirmation, then?”
I couldn’t hardly say no. “Yup.”
“Good, we’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then. I’ll contact you at this phone number at 9:30 to remind you that we’re coming. Once we start the service, it’s best that you allow our technicians to perform the process from start to finish. Our employees are all background checked and screened with the police, and are contractually and federally obligated to clean said households without any threat of theft, intent of doing no additional damage to said house, and will be punished under the full extent of the law should any property of the customer be moved, discarded, declared lost, or stolen under the articles of the law and the Geneva Convention.”
“The Geneva convention?” I asked. “Really?”
“It’s all covered in our contract,” he said. “See you tomorrow. Good night.”

With that, the girls took their bags and piled them into the car. Michelle collected an overnight bag, and Shelly and I did the same. Just as I was about to exit through the front door, my cell rang another time.
“Claxion, Agent Torkleson. Sorry it took so long, I had hoped to call you at nine.”
“Funny you should call, madam,” I said. “We were just heading to a hotel.”
“A hotel? Why?”

Inside of twenty minutes, the girls - all five of them - were hungry and impatient as I waited for an FBI agent to come to the house and keep an eye on the place. Thus, even though it was a quarter after nine, we piled into the car and took a trip through the drive-thru at Arby’s before ending up at the AmericanInn on 12th Avenue. With ten sandwiches, three tubs of curly fries and twelve mozzarella sticks between us, everyone was able to eat their fill at last.
We then settled into our respective hotel rooms. Shelly and I would share a bed while Michelle slept in the matching queen, leaving the three mermaid college students to fight over their own accomidations in their own room.
As Michelle talked to Cauldwell, Shelly leaned into me while I spoke with Agent Torkleson. She kept the conversation short.
“After everything that happened today, Claxion, I’d rather not make your wife worry any further than she may be already,” Torkleson said. “You might assure your guests that the FBI does not believe that they are targets.”
I hesitated. “And if they’re not?”
“Just try to get some sleep tonight and I’ll discuss the situation with my superiors.”
“Uh huh,” I said. “It sounds like you’re suggesting a different target, ma’am.”
“Just try to get some sleep,” Torkleson repeated. “Cauldwell has told me that any expenses toward repairing your house and any hotel expenses you might have incurred will be covered by the FBI and beyond your responsibility.”
I leaned into Shelly and gave her a kiss. “Good night.” With that I hung up and pulled my wife closer. She kissed me on the chest and cooed softly before we both drifted off into sleep.

Knowing that either the FBI, myself, or even Shelly and Michelle were targets from whomever was sending these firebombs did little to aid my sleep. As it had been a long time since there was a reason to be on guard from any external forces, I had a tough time picking an assailant.
Dr. Leo had all but given up any evil schemes, having gone into the resort buisness and enjoying a quiet retirement. Since my own kidnapping by Dr. Latrell, I knew that the reformed doctor had given up his quest to exhume mermaid remains. At least, I chose to think of both that way. Most of the other usual suspects - Dark Rider and his son Kane - were either in police custody, or in some other out-of-the-way place, unlikely to cause more trouble. Explosives weren't in anyone else's playbook. To my best recollection, there were very few names in the dossier left to be worried about.
If someone wanted to attack us, they sure liked playing shadow games.

In the morning, we stopped by the house to let the folks from Servepro in to do some deep-level cleaning. Afterwards, the girls all went to Denny's while I met quietly with Agent Torkleson out front. Like usual, she seemed reluctant to tell me what to do.
"So the FBI office in St. Paul is hit with a firebomb," I began as I slowly paced along the diner's front walk, "and then my house is hit with a similar device. And yet," I paused to look through the windows toward my wife and everyone, "And yet you suggest that I might not be the target that they're aiming for?"
"I didn't say that," Torkleson said as she snuffed out her cigarette into the cylindrical ashtray. "What I said was that the FBI is still putting together the pieces. I've got a flight to Chicago to meet with Cauldwell, Jackson and Melner-" She hesitated. "And a few other people whom you don't need to know about, frankly."
"Sure," I said. "Secrets are my buisness, Amanda, and if my house is a target, surely there must be something that I should know about."
She nodded and leaned against the wall. "And if a firebomb showed up at my house, Claxion, I'd have the same questions." She then stood up and glanced towards the east as an airplane came in to land. "Listen, if I were in your shoes, even if those Servepro fellows do a good job - and I'm told they're the best - I'd consider staying away from the house for a few days, maybe even a week. Don't you have a cabin somewhere?"
"Absolutely not," I said. "I mean, Michelle does, and we do go there, but if someone is chasing me with firebombs, that's the last place I want them to know exists."
Torkleson nodded. "Word from Cauldwell is that it has everything, even a home thearter and a fancy car in the garage."
I shrugged. "Nice to know Caudlwell keeps my secrets."
"He's more concerned with Miss Peyton's secrets than yours," Torkleson replied. "Whatever you decide, don't contact me directly; instead I'll send out Jackson to check on you."
"Sure," I said. "And why should I not contact you?"
"In case your cell phone is being tracked," she replied as she reached into her pocket, removing a credit card. "This should help you get settled somewhere safe."
"Forgive me," I said as I held up the card curiously, "but aren't credit cards easier to track than cell phone signals? I happen to know that some of my conspiracy customers at the store-"
"It is more than an ordinary credit card," Torkleson interupted. "While it will act like a credit card to regular credit terminals, the information contained within it is masked. In reality, it will allow the FBI, and only the FBI, to track your wherabouts. Much like the way we've masked your identities and personal information from Jason Griggs, this credit card will allow us to track your purchases, as well as includes a masked GPS signal that can only be detected by our systems. With this credit card, we can find you - but we're confident that nobody else can. Jackson will personally be keeping an eye on you, so don't feel like you'll be tracked by an anonymous stalker."
My inner skeptic might have thought otherwise, but at the moment I chose not to dispute her statements. To do so would've infuriated the inner subserviant that an underling feels for his or her boss, and also suggest that her training did not exceed mine - a statement I knew to be false.
"As for your guests, do what you must to accomidate them as well. Unfortunately, Cauldwell has yet to establish a team for assisting the girls with their education at this time."
"You folks set up the Servepro people fast enough," I said.
Torkleson gave me a stern glare. "We've been watching you for years, Claxion. These girls literally came onto our doorstep a day or two ago and our resources are spread thin. This is the best we could manage on short notice and you will do your best to work with me."
I nodded. "Seems I have no choice while I'm being targeted by someone I don't know."
"That is just one more detail that we are continuing to identify, and within 34 hours I hope to provide that detail in full," Torkleson said. "If you're hoping for the same answers that we hope to discover, you'll have to accept my terms. As you said, you have no choice. In the meantime, know that we've got two of our agents watching your house. If you want protection to extend to the cabin up north, you need only ask."
I slipped the blue credit card into my pocket. "As you said, it's my only choice."

Inside the restaurant, Shelly had ordered me a lumberjack slam and a large apple juice. At the risk of discussing our situation in front of the entire restaurant, I decided to just shrug off their questions with a curt shake of my head. Luckily, Dora caught on to my musings and began a conversation about their plans for school. I welcomed the distraction.
By the time our meals arrived, we had learned a lot more about our new guests. Turns out Dora and Aswana both wanted to go to engineering school to learn how things worked, having watched and witnessed lots of the History Channel and the Discovery Channel shows while listening and watching television though the windows and decks of both luxury yachts and waterfront properties. These girls were bold. Dora had her sights on structural and civil engineering, while Aswana was analytical and had a mind for computers. Chellan had came mainly because of the sports, especially volleyball, but was undecided on choosing a degree simply because she hadn't thought of any other occupation she might embark upon underwater.
"So what kind of occupations are open to-" Michelle asked before catching herself as the waitress refilled our waters. "That is, what employment opportunities are back home?"
"There are a few roads we might take, definately jobs other than getting married and having babies," Chellan said. "Some people are opening restaurants, like this one, or there are jobs working as sculptors who are responsible for building-" she watched another waitress walk by - "homes, and craft shops for jewelers, and the like."
"But surely none of you want to work in fashion," Shelly said. "My dream was always to teach, but Father would never have let me."
"What would you have taught?" I asked.
"Astrology," Shelly said. "Of course, everything I learned then was extracted from whatever books had fallen to the ocean floor, and they were incredibly out of date."
"That's just it," Dora said. "Everything back home is from the 18th century."
"There were few options back home," Aswana said, "but if we're going to do anything for our friends and neighbors, we're going to have to come here to do it."
"And you three plan to go to school, study hard, get your degrees and knowledge, and then- what?" Michelle asked. "Swim home and go on with your lives? What about paying for school and all that?"
"We'll come home, but not right away," Aswana said. "We're not going to learn everything we need to come up with better ways of housing people and building up our hometowns from school alone. There's too much we have to learn."
"Exactly," Dora said as she looked over her travelling companions. "We're also going to get jobs, work in the industries, and then take that knowledge that we've learned back home once we've had five, six, ten years to fully experience everything the land has to offer."
"That's right," Chellan said. "Who knows? We might even end up in a coastal community somewhere and meet someone."
"At least that's not your main goal," Michelle muttered.
Even though I thought Michelle was being a little cynical, she had a point. In the modern world, romance couldn't be the primary goal for a young woman's ambitions any longer. Though I suspected there were more jobs in their hometowns than we might have discussed, the stability of a home life could never be the only goal in a woman's life.
"You've all undergone the Truefin less than a month ago, then?" Michelle asked.
"Actually, they don't call it that anymore," Dora said. "They call it the Humanfin now."
"Human fin?" I asked with a shrug. "Guess it's a better term, since humans have feet instead of fins and all."
"I like it," Michelle said. "Everything is marketing."
"It's still the same procedure, but we all made it through," Dora said.
"What was your goal?" Chellan asked Shelly. "Why did you undergo the Truefin?"
"I didn't," Shelly replied. "Came ashore a whole different way."
"Really?" Chellan and Aswana looked at each other curiously. "Oh, we thought-"
"I told you, Chellan!" Dora was clearly embarrassed. "Geez!"
"It's okay," Shelly said. "Certainly, how I came ashore isn't all that important now. But to answer your question, my main goal was never just to go ashore, if you must know. Since then, things have turned out better than I might have planned originally."
"Yeah," I said as I held Shelly's hand. "They sure did."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence at the table. Guess I've gotten good at flaunting my romance lately.
"So what are we going to do for a place to stay, then?" Dora asked. "We're sorry that we didn't write in advance or anything, but we thought that you might be kind enough to help. You know, help in the way we help each other back home." She added one more comment in a whisper. "Home underwater."
Shelly nodded. "You're already here, so we'll find a way."
"It's the way things are in Undarra too," I added. "Even though the way Michelle and I do things on land is much different, it's no trouble."
"Agreed," Michelle said. "We'll do our best to get you set up."
"That's very kind of you," Dora said.
"We cannot thank you enough," Aswana added.
"Yes, thank you so much," Chellan said.

Description
Michelle was knocked to the floor as she tackled me from the blast and knocked my glasses off. The whole house had shook, causing the smoke alarm to go off as the windows rattled.
I collected my glasses from the floor, discovering that they were undamaged. Before I checked on anything else, I checked on Michelle. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "What the hell was that?"
"Greg?" Dora called as the girls quickly came into the room. "What was that?"
"Oh no," Chellan gasped. "Maybe we shouldn't have come here."
"Is the house on fire?" Aswana cried.
Michelle and I jumped to our feet to check. "Greg, if there's a fire-"
"I know!" I grabbed the fire extinquisher from the kitchen counter. "Everyone get back!"
Using my shoulder to push open the fire door that hadn't properly closed and now was loose on its hinges, I burst into the garage to discover my workbench was on fire. I pulled the pin on the extinquisher and pulled the trigger, dousing the flames as best I could. While the flames were high, they had not spread beyond the workbench.
"Hand it to me and try to contain the heat!" Michelle cried.
I surrendered the fire extinquisher and used the power of my pearl to do just that, applying waves of cold air onto the smoldering pine hardwood. Michelle then moved in at that point and sprayed extra contents of the extingusher onto any smoldering embers. She then sprayed the curtains along the wall as a precaution as I continued to modify the temperature as best as I could. While the temperature managed to decrease enough so that Michelle could remain human, the colder temperature of the workbench did little to abate the flames.
"Is there anything we can do?" Dora asked.
"Call 911!" I cried.
Shelly had left the car running in the street and rushed up to the house. "What happened?"
"There was a bomb or something that came in the mail," Michelle said as she handed me the extinguisher. I took over and continued to hit any hot spots while Michelle moved away from the smoldering workbench. "Shelly, did you really just back out?"
"Yeah," Shelly said. "Was that a package? A package you just held."
"Yes." Michelle was suddenly catching her breath. She kneeled and continued to move back slowly against the wall while holding her fingers apart.
I continued to to spray the extinguisher onto the workbench and the surrounding areas, even though I hoped that I might have gotten every last spark silenced. For a moment, I glanced back towards Michelle, keeping a watch on her hands.
"Don't worry about me," Michelle said. "The curtains!"
The other side of the curtains had caught again, and I continued to spray chemical onto the fabric and along the backside of the workbench. I motioned for Shelly to take over. "I'm going to pull this off of the wall, keep hitting it with the fire extingusher."
Shelly took over and continued to watch for hot spots as I went to the south end of the workbench and pulled, using my power of telekinesis to assist my efforts. Because the workbench was bolted to the wall, I gave a lurching effort and heard the wood splinter as the eight foot bench finally broke free and slid into the garage. Chellan and Aswana jumped in at that point and helped me continue to pull the workbench further into the garage, and that's when Shelly came around to the backside and sprayed the back of the blackened workbench.
"The fire department is here!" Michelle said as she continued to remain along the wall of the house and avoid any exhaustion.
The local firefighters arrived and quickly set up their equipment. Within two minutes, the workbench and any hot spots along the east wall of the garage were steaming from the soaked pulp that had all but burned through the workbench's backing. Had I not pulled out the workbench out, it's quite likely that the embers would have spread, likely catching to the rest of the house.
"Is it out?" Shelly asked.
"Oh yes," Commander Nelson said. "What caused it?"
"I don't know," I said. "Michelle, where did you find that package?"
"Package?" another firefigher asked. "Was it a package?"
"Yeah," Michelle said. "It was on the ground by the garage door, just to the south side of the front stoop."
I turned to Dora and the girls. "You didn't see any package when you came in, did you?"
They shook their heads. "We didn't notice anything when we got here a few hours ago."
"Folks, can we confirm there was a package on this workbench a moment ago?" Nelson asked again. "What was in this package?"
"It was a parcel from the mail," Michelle said. "At least, I think it was. Did the mail come earlier, Greg?"
"I collected it around two," Shelly said. "Before you all showed up. There were no packages that I could see."
"Folks, if you say you recieved a suspicious package, I have to get the police here," Nelson said. "Can all of you confirm there was a package?"

Sure enough, my good friend Officer Jenkins arrived with her notepad in hand. Two hours later, she had statements from all six of us regarding where we had been moments before the package burst. I had given a full account of the package's description, though I had no idea how much it might have weighed.
"It was heavy," Michelle said. "I'd say it was at least five or six pounds."
"What size? Dimensions?" Jenkins asked. "You said there was no return address?"
Firefighter Kole sniffed the air. "I can't be certain, but I smell another flareup."
Dora, who was standing inside the house, turned. "The dinner!"
I rushed inside, followed by the firemen. I pulled out the rack and looked inside the cassarole. Everything inside the cassarole was caked in a thick layer of black cheese.
"That's roached," Firefighter Kole said. "At least it didn't combust."

Outside, Officer Jenkins suggested I call the postal service and begin an audit into any recieved parcels that had been processed in the past week, even though we were certain that the bomb had arrived sometime between two thirty and five thirty that afternoon. The firefighters stayed until almost a quarter to eight, when they suggested we call Servepro to clean up the garage. However, I immediately had to make an executive decision.
"There's smoke all over the house," I said as I suppressed a cough while we continued to discuss my options in the garage. "These women showed up today, and in all honesty, I'd have been hard pressed to find them places to sleep even before my garage exploded."
"From what I can see, your house isn't likely to re-ignite or have any security issues," Commander Nelson said. "However, it looks like your garage door mechanism was damaged and might not operate." He pointed to the pipe that ran up to the ceiling. "Your fire suppression system didn't appear to be operational or useful for the workbench, however."
"That's not fire suppressant," I said. "The point is, should I board up anything?"
"When was the last time you used the lock on your garage door?"
I shrugged. "There're a bunch of keys in the junk drawer."
Nelson nodded. "If you keep the non-functional garage door opener hooked up to the door, nobody will be able to operate it. The door appears to be damaged, but I do not beileve anyone will be able to enter using it. The back door that exits out into the back yard, meanwhile, was a fire door and appears to be solid."
"At least one thing worked like it was supposed to," Shelly said.
"As for the door to the inside, it is a fire door, but it took most of the shockwave from the explosion because it was not properly closed at the time," Nelson explained. "My guess is that you'll have to replace it at some point. For tonight, I'd consider putting a camera up or something."
"Yeah," I said. "There's no way we can stay in here tonight, regardless."
"On it," Michelle said as she made a phone call.
"I'm sure the officer asked this already," Nelson asked, "But are you really sure that there's nobody out there who might've sent you that package? Someone who doesn't like you?"
"I'm sure," I replied. "For all I know, the package might not have been intended for me."
"But it had your address," he said. "Just not your name. When did you move in?"
"It's been a long time, almost 2006," I hesitated. "No wait, it was the spring of 2005."
Nelson nodded. "And in all that time, you've never recieved any suspicious packages?"
"Not one," I replied confidently. "Thank you for all the advice."
"And thank you for coming so quickly," Shelly said.
Nelson tipped his commander's cap. "It's our duty, madam." He then turned to me and shook my hand. "I don't envy you tomorrow, Claxion, but if you have any more trouble, you let me and my boys know."
I nodded. "Thank you very much."
The firefighters pulled out. Dora came over to me.
"Gregory? Um, not to sound ungrateful, but-"
"Don't sweat it," I said. "Michelle said she'd take care of everything." I hesitated. "Did you meet Michelle yet?"
"Hello," Aswana said to Michelle, who had yet to move from her spot against the wall of the garage.
"Hello," Michelle said with a wave as she continued to talk into the phone. She finally stood up and began to talk into the phone as she walked out onto the driveway.
"It's like I told you, we're taking care of it," I said. "She's already got a hotel room booked. How many rooms should we get?"
"One," Dora said quickly. "One room for the three of us is fine."
I nodded. "Okay, consider it done."
Michelle gave a glance, and continued to talk into the phone. "Two rooms with two beds, please. Non smoking rooms would be best."
Right about then, I recieved a phone call. Having collected my cell phone after discovering dinner had become a flambé, I answered it to find a pleasant surprise.
“This is John from Bloomington Servepro. Am I speaking to Greg Claxion?”
“Yes sir,” I said. “Er, did someone give you my number?”
“Actually sir, I’m calling to confirm your appointment for tomorrow morning at ten AM.”
Huh? “May I ask who arrainged the appointment?”
“Unfortunately, sir, I was given specific instructions.” He then repeated my address and phone number. “Is that your contact information?”
“That is mine,” I said. “Yeah, ten AM, sure. What will this cost me?”
“This service is being covered by a third party, and again, I was given special instructions,” John continued. “All I need from you, sir, is a verbal confirmation over the phone and then a signature tomorrow when our task is complete.”
“Okay,” I said. “Is there anything I can do to minimize smoke damage?”
“For tonight, you’d actually be better off turning off any exhaust fans throughout the house, along with any non-HVAC systems. Because it’s winter, you’ll want to keep the furnace working, but part of the package that you’re recieving will cover a complete filter package for the HVAC systems in the house, a cleaning of any exhaust fans, and a complete cleaning of all fabrics and desmogging of carpets or furniture.”
“That’s, er, impressive,” I stuttered. “Like it never happened.”
“That’s our goal, sir,” John replied. “Do I have your confirmation, then?”
I couldn’t hardly say no. “Yup.”
“Good, we’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then. I’ll contact you at this phone number at 9:30 to remind you that we’re coming. Once we start the service, it’s best that you allow our technicians to perform the process from start to finish. Our employees are all background checked and screened with the police, and are contractually and federally obligated to clean said households without any threat of theft, intent of doing no additional damage to said house, and will be punished under the full extent of the law should any property of the customer be moved, discarded, declared lost, or stolen under the articles of the law and the Geneva Convention.”
“The Geneva convention?” I asked. “Really?”
“It’s all covered in our contract,” he said. “See you tomorrow. Good night.”

With that, the girls took their bags and piled them into the car. Michelle collected an overnight bag, and Shelly and I did the same. Just as I was about to exit through the front door, my cell rang another time.
“Claxion, Agent Torkleson. Sorry it took so long, I had hoped to call you at nine.”
“Funny you should call, madam,” I said. “We were just heading to a hotel.”
“A hotel? Why?”

Inside of twenty minutes, the girls - all five of them - were hungry and impatient as I waited for an FBI agent to come to the house and keep an eye on the place. Thus, even though it was a quarter after nine, we piled into the car and took a trip through the drive-thru at Arby’s before ending up at the AmericanInn on 12th Avenue. With ten sandwiches, three tubs of curly fries and twelve mozzarella sticks between us, everyone was able to eat their fill at last.
We then settled into our respective hotel rooms. Shelly and I would share a bed while Michelle slept in the matching queen, leaving the three mermaid college students to fight over their own accomidations in their own room.
As Michelle talked to Cauldwell, Shelly leaned into me while I spoke with Agent Torkleson. She kept the conversation short.
“After everything that happened today, Claxion, I’d rather not make your wife worry any further than she may be already,” Torkleson said. “You might assure your guests that the FBI does not believe that they are targets.”
I hesitated. “And if they’re not?”
“Just try to get some sleep tonight and I’ll discuss the situation with my superiors.”
“Uh huh,” I said. “It sounds like you’re suggesting a different target, ma’am.”
“Just try to get some sleep,” Torkleson repeated. “Cauldwell has told me that any expenses toward repairing your house and any hotel expenses you might have incurred will be covered by the FBI and beyond your responsibility.”
I leaned into Shelly and gave her a kiss. “Good night.” With that I hung up and pulled my wife closer. She kissed me on the chest and cooed softly before we both drifted off into sleep.

Knowing that either the FBI, myself, or even Shelly and Michelle were targets from whomever was sending these firebombs did little to aid my sleep. As it had been a long time since there was a reason to be on guard from any external forces, I had a tough time picking an assailant.
Dr. Leo had all but given up any evil schemes, having gone into the resort buisness and enjoying a quiet retirement. Since my own kidnapping by Dr. Latrell, I knew that the reformed doctor had given up his quest to exhume mermaid remains. At least, I chose to think of both that way. Most of the other usual suspects - Dark Rider and his son Kane - were either in police custody, or in some other out-of-the-way place, unlikely to cause more trouble. Explosives weren't in anyone else's playbook. To my best recollection, there were very few names in the dossier left to be worried about.
If someone wanted to attack us, they sure liked playing shadow games.

In the morning, we stopped by the house to let the folks from Servepro in to do some deep-level cleaning. Afterwards, the girls all went to Denny's while I met quietly with Agent Torkleson out front. Like usual, she seemed reluctant to tell me what to do.
"So the FBI office in St. Paul is hit with a firebomb," I began as I slowly paced along the diner's front walk, "and then my house is hit with a similar device. And yet," I paused to look through the windows toward my wife and everyone, "And yet you suggest that I might not be the target that they're aiming for?"
"I didn't say that," Torkleson said as she snuffed out her cigarette into the cylindrical ashtray. "What I said was that the FBI is still putting together the pieces. I've got a flight to Chicago to meet with Cauldwell, Jackson and Melner-" She hesitated. "And a few other people whom you don't need to know about, frankly."
"Sure," I said. "Secrets are my buisness, Amanda, and if my house is a target, surely there must be something that I should know about."
She nodded and leaned against the wall. "And if a firebomb showed up at my house, Claxion, I'd have the same questions." She then stood up and glanced towards the east as an airplane came in to land. "Listen, if I were in your shoes, even if those Servepro fellows do a good job - and I'm told they're the best - I'd consider staying away from the house for a few days, maybe even a week. Don't you have a cabin somewhere?"
"Absolutely not," I said. "I mean, Michelle does, and we do go there, but if someone is chasing me with firebombs, that's the last place I want them to know exists."
Torkleson nodded. "Word from Cauldwell is that it has everything, even a home thearter and a fancy car in the garage."
I shrugged. "Nice to know Caudlwell keeps my secrets."
"He's more concerned with Miss Peyton's secrets than yours," Torkleson replied. "Whatever you decide, don't contact me directly; instead I'll send out Jackson to check on you."
"Sure," I said. "And why should I not contact you?"
"In case your cell phone is being tracked," she replied as she reached into her pocket, removing a credit card. "This should help you get settled somewhere safe."
"Forgive me," I said as I held up the card curiously, "but aren't credit cards easier to track than cell phone signals? I happen to know that some of my conspiracy customers at the store-"
"It is more than an ordinary credit card," Torkleson interupted. "While it will act like a credit card to regular credit terminals, the information contained within it is masked. In reality, it will allow the FBI, and only the FBI, to track your wherabouts. Much like the way we've masked your identities and personal information from Jason Griggs, this credit card will allow us to track your purchases, as well as includes a masked GPS signal that can only be detected by our systems. With this credit card, we can find you - but we're confident that nobody else can. Jackson will personally be keeping an eye on you, so don't feel like you'll be tracked by an anonymous stalker."
My inner skeptic might have thought otherwise, but at the moment I chose not to dispute her statements. To do so would've infuriated the inner subserviant that an underling feels for his or her boss, and also suggest that her training did not exceed mine - a statement I knew to be false.
"As for your guests, do what you must to accomidate them as well. Unfortunately, Cauldwell has yet to establish a team for assisting the girls with their education at this time."
"You folks set up the Servepro people fast enough," I said.
Torkleson gave me a stern glare. "We've been watching you for years, Claxion. These girls literally came onto our doorstep a day or two ago and our resources are spread thin. This is the best we could manage on short notice and you will do your best to work with me."
I nodded. "Seems I have no choice while I'm being targeted by someone I don't know."
"That is just one more detail that we are continuing to identify, and within 34 hours I hope to provide that detail in full," Torkleson said. "If you're hoping for the same answers that we hope to discover, you'll have to accept my terms. As you said, you have no choice. In the meantime, know that we've got two of our agents watching your house. If you want protection to extend to the cabin up north, you need only ask."
I slipped the blue credit card into my pocket. "As you said, it's my only choice."

Inside the restaurant, Shelly had ordered me a lumberjack slam and a large apple juice. At the risk of discussing our situation in front of the entire restaurant, I decided to just shrug off their questions with a curt shake of my head. Luckily, Dora caught on to my musings and began a conversation about their plans for school. I welcomed the distraction.
By the time our meals arrived, we had learned a lot more about our new guests. Turns out Dora and Aswana both wanted to go to engineering school to learn how things worked, having watched and witnessed lots of the History Channel and the Discovery Channel shows while listening and watching television though the windows and decks of both luxury yachts and waterfront properties. These girls were bold. Dora had her sights on structural and civil engineering, while Aswana was analytical and had a mind for computers. Chellan had came mainly because of the sports, especially volleyball, but was undecided on choosing a degree simply because she hadn't thought of any other occupation she might embark upon underwater.
"So what kind of occupations are open to-" Michelle asked before catching herself as the waitress refilled our waters. "That is, what employment opportunities are back home?"
"There are a few roads we might take, definately jobs other than getting married and having babies," Chellan said. "Some people are opening restaurants, like this one, or there are jobs working as sculptors who are responsible for building-" she watched another waitress walk by - "homes, and craft shops for jewelers, and the like."
"But surely none of you want to work in fashion," Shelly said. "My dream was always to teach, but Father would never have let me."
"What would you have taught?" I asked.
"Astrology," Shelly said. "Of course, everything I learned then was extracted from whatever books had fallen to the ocean floor, and they were incredibly out of date."
"That's just it," Dora said. "Everything back home is from the 18th century."
"There were few options back home," Aswana said, "but if we're going to do anything for our friends and neighbors, we're going to have to come here to do it."
"And you three plan to go to school, study hard, get your degrees and knowledge, and then- what?" Michelle asked. "Swim home and go on with your lives? What about paying for school and all that?"
"We'll come home, but not right away," Aswana said. "We're not going to learn everything we need to come up with better ways of housing people and building up our hometowns from school alone. There's too much we have to learn."
"Exactly," Dora said as she looked over her travelling companions. "We're also going to get jobs, work in the industries, and then take that knowledge that we've learned back home once we've had five, six, ten years to fully experience everything the land has to offer."
"That's right," Chellan said. "Who knows? We might even end up in a coastal community somewhere and meet someone."
"At least that's not your main goal," Michelle muttered.
Even though I thought Michelle was being a little cynical, she had a point. In the modern world, romance couldn't be the primary goal for a young woman's ambitions any longer. Though I suspected there were more jobs in their hometowns than we might have discussed, the stability of a home life could never be the only goal in a woman's life.
"You've all undergone the Truefin less than a month ago, then?" Michelle asked.
"Actually, they don't call it that anymore," Dora said. "They call it the Humanfin now."
"Human fin?" I asked with a shrug. "Guess it's a better term, since humans have feet instead of fins and all."
"I like it," Michelle said. "Everything is marketing."
"It's still the same procedure, but we all made it through," Dora said.
"What was your goal?" Chellan asked Shelly. "Why did you undergo the Truefin?"
"I didn't," Shelly replied. "Came ashore a whole different way."
"Really?" Chellan and Aswana looked at each other curiously. "Oh, we thought-"
"I told you, Chellan!" Dora was clearly embarrassed. "Geez!"
"It's okay," Shelly said. "Certainly, how I came ashore isn't all that important now. But to answer your question, my main goal was never just to go ashore, if you must know. Since then, things have turned out better than I might have planned originally."
"Yeah," I said as I held Shelly's hand. "They sure did."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence at the table. Guess I've gotten good at flaunting my romance lately.
"So what are we going to do for a place to stay, then?" Dora asked. "We're sorry that we didn't write in advance or anything, but we thought that you might be kind enough to help. You know, help in the way we help each other back home." She added one more comment in a whisper. "Home underwater."
Shelly nodded. "You're already here, so we'll find a way."
"It's the way things are in Undarra too," I added. "Even though the way Michelle and I do things on land is much different, it's no trouble."
"Agreed," Michelle said. "We'll do our best to get you set up."
"That's very kind of you," Dora said.
"We cannot thank you enough," Aswana added.
"Yes, thank you so much," Chellan said.