Mills had to make a phone call and had just hung up when Cody found, or rather, cornered her in the hallway. She looked down at the little boy in surprise.

Cody surveyed her up and down, joining his thumb and forefinger together in the "okay" sign. "Lady, you are stacked."

Mills' mouth dropped open. "How old did you say you were?"

Cody puffed up his chest proudly. "Six."

"Do you live mostly with your uncle Stan?" Mills asked hopefully.

"Nan, I live with Greg. Me and him is like that." He crossed his little fingers to demonstrate.

"Hmm." She took his hand, leading him firmly back into the sitting room.

Tyber reached up to the bookcase, handing Stan the book on quantum theory he had been telling him about.

"Isn't that Arthur Bloomberg working for you?" Stan thumbed distractedly through the book.

"Yes."

"What happened to him? He was a brilliant mathematician."

Tyber rubbed his ear. "Um, he had a real problem with convergences."

"Oh." Stan watched Mills with a speculative gleam as she entered the room holding Cody's hand. "Mills seems very nice. Is she married?"

"No, but you are," Tyber responded dryly.

Stan colored. "Oh, no! Not me! I was thinking about my brother... She seems such a down-to-earth person-just what he needs."

"And why is that?"

"Don't ask! My brother, Gregor, is... is, well, he's something of a serendipidist."

Tyber pictured a "wild and crazy" Stan Mazurski in his mind, instantly negating the image. He said diplomatically, "I don't know, Stan, ah-I think sometimes it's best to leave these things alone."

Stan stroked his chin in thought. "I suppose you're right. Pity, though. Tyber, are you really serious about this psychic stuff?"

"Between the two of us?" Stan nodded. "Well, who knows? There could be something to it. But not this guy. Keep it to yourself, will you?"

"Of course I will. I find myself agreeing with you. I wouldn't rule it out completely-but it doesn't have much to do with what we do."

Tyber just smiled.

"A cat! You got a cat!"

Cody's voice held the awe usually reserved by six-year-old boys for such things as toy laser guns and interstellar battle-ships. He jumped off the chair, racing toward Hambone. The tabby's singular eye momentarily widened, but the pirate cat held his ground.

Zanita guessed the steady flow of tidbits the cat had been getting all day from the kitchen had just run dry. Knowing this cat as well as she did, she figured Hambone had probably come in to see if there was anything on the floor to vacuum. He would tolerate Cody only until he discovered the child was not carrying any food.

Hambone, being a cat, did exactly the opposite of what she thought.

When Cody put his arms around the great bulk, shoving his face right into the soft fur, Hambone closed his eye in ecstasy, emitting a strange low sound. One could easily interpret this odd sound to be a purr. Zanita threw an astonished look at Tyber.

"In case you haven't guessed, Cody loves cats." Stan addressed the group, a fond smile gracing his kind face as he watched his nephew hug the animal.

"You can't have one where you live?" There was a sad note in Mills' voice; she loved cats herself and empathized with Cody. Pets were against the rules in her apartment house as well.

"It's not 'cause of that." Cody petted Hambone's broad head. "Me and Greg gotta be free and not tied down to anything. We gotta be able to move where the mood takes us."

The Creep just dropped another notch in Mills' book.

"What about school?" She turned to Stan. "Surely your brother-" She stopped when she realized that she was overstepping the bounds of polite inquiry.

Stan just looked at Mills, shaking his head. "Another topic of dissension," he said quietly to her.

A few moments later, Blooey caught Tyber's attention from the doorway. "There's a bloke what wants to come aboard, Captain. Says his name is Gregor Mazurski; should I lower the plank?"

"Gregor? I wonder what my brother's doing here? He told me he would be gone for the weekend."

Tyber nodded to Blooey. "Open the gate, Blooey."

A short time later Gregor Mazurski entered the room.

He was a surprise to everyone, for Gregor Mazurski was the complete antithesis of his brother Stan.

Gregor stood about six-foot-three and had a thick head of raven-black hair and glittering green eyes. He was dressed in black boots, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. Only a maroon sweater worn under the jacket broke the stark effect.

Zanita's eyes met Mills'. Mills' eyes met Zanita's. Both conveyed the age-old secret message among girlfriends everywhere: Hunk.

Upon seeing his father, Cody released Hambone, racing pell-mell across the room to throw himself into his father's arms. Gregor lifted the boy up, holding him under the seat of his pants with one broad palm.

Mills had no way of knowing that Gregor had left his son only three hours before. From what she observed of the reunion, Mills came to the erroneous conclusion that the man hadn't seen his son in a very long time.

It was obvious the boy idolized him. Hunk or no, he was still the Creep.

"Greg!" Cody hugged his father.

"Hey there, Spike, how these people treating you, huh?" He ruffled his son's hair. "In case you people don't know it- there's a Harley smashed up in the front drive."

Tyber rubbed his forehead. Perhaps he needed Mrs. Mazurski's headache medicine. If one more person mentioned his dead bike, he was going to bring the damn carcass in here and hold a wake.

"Have a seat, Greg-I'm Tyber Evans." He gestured to a chair.

Gregor had heard about Tyber Evans, had even admired his maverick attitude. A similar attitude was a part of his nature. Therefore, he was a little surprised to find his staid brother, Stan, in the home of such a man. By all outward appearances, they had little in common.

"Thanks, but we really should be going. Spike's probably tired-"

"I am not!"

"I thought you were going to Bermuda for the weekend, Gregor. What happened?"

"I got a new plan, Stan." He flashed his brother a smile of pearly whites. Cody giggled, recognizing the song lyrics.

"You're welcome to stay for dessert." Tyber graciously extended the invitation.

"Come on, Greg, they're having chocolate cake." Cody's small hand turned his father's face so he could whisper loudly in his ear, "Chocolate cake." Everyone laughed.

Greg grinned at his son. "I guess I can't fight chocolate cake."

He released Cody, who went to sit on the rug next to Hambone. Gregor took a seat and was soon introduced to everyone. His sights lingered for more than a few moments on Mills.

Blooey wheeled in a dessert cart loaded with goodies. Cody was personally handed a huge piece of cake.

LaLeche continued on his topic of spiritual quests. Tyber caught Zanita stifling a yawn and immediately substituted her decaf for regular. Zanita yawning was a warning sign not to be overlooked.

"Now the Tantric viewpoint is somewhat different-by the way, the Tibetans are a remarkable people. Over one hundred thousand of them are in exile."

"I heard the Chinese government has been systematically destroying Tibet." As a removed observer, Tyber reflected on the entropic aspects of the situation.

"I recognize that speculative look, Doctor," Stan joked. "Care to share with us what you're thinking?"

"I'm thinking about entropy, the Tibetan people, and quantum theory."

"There's a lighthearted mixture," Greg quipped.

"How very marvelously interesting." Auntie probably didn't have a clue, but Zanita knew she doted on "ponderous" men. "Tell us more, Tyber."

"Here is a spiritually advanced culture taken over by a political regime which to them represents disorder. Their way of life is being systematically destroyed-entropy rears its ugly head. Now, in quantum mechanics, the observer, by the very nature of his existence, cannot help but affect the outcome of the experiment or observation; indeed, he becomes part of it simply by his inherent presence.

"So, here we all are, the quantum observers, if you will, in a closed field of experimentation. How do we effect what is happening in Tibet, and how is what's happening in Tibet affecting us?"

Stan jumped in, "But Doctor, you are drawing parallels between quantum aspects and the macroscopic world. As you know, quantum deals with the micro-universe, and such theory does not necessarily apply outside the parameters of this microcosm."

Tyber decided to play devil's advocate. "Don't they? We're talking about the spiritual realm here, Stan-which is presumably neither micro- nor macroscopic. What quantum aspects would apply, do you suppose?"

"None. You see, that is the very point, Tyber. It is a different realm; therefore, these aspects cannot apply. Contemporary physics does not prove, disprove, agree, or disagree with a mystical belief system."

"I'm inclined to disagree. If laws apply throughout the universe and the spiritual realm is inclusive of this universe, such laws must apply. Otherwise, you could argue that there is a breakdown in the belief system and the laws are useless."

"No. Scientific theory has nothing to do with a spiritual worldview. Spiritualists examine the universe directly, while we physicists examine the universe through the abstraction known as mathematica-which is just the language of the reality, not the reality itself."

"Interesting switch, Stan," Tyber complimented him, then set about to negate the viewpoint. "So now science is abstraction and religion is reality? Isn't that contrary to Planck's-"

Gregor interrupted the two men, who had lost the rest of the room and were oblivious to it. "Physicists love to engage in these esoteric discussions. I think they're trying to fool us into thinking they're open-minded."

Everyone laughed, relieved that someone had stepped in to stop them.

Whew. Zanita took a breath of air. Madmen across the water.

Mills wondered if Greg was subtly insulting his brother's conventionality.

"I was in Nepal once." Gregor took a sip of his coffee.

Cody bragged from the floor, "Greg met with the Dolly Parton." His lower lip was rimmed in chocolate, his upper in milk.

"The Dalai Lama," his father corrected.

"Wonderful!" LaLeche's tone conveyed that he somehow had a hand in it. "You went on an inner quest."

Gregor's green eyes glittered jovially. "You might say that."

Cody licked his fork while enlightening everyone. "A chick he knows took him there. She told him they had all kinds of kinky ways of doing it. Right, Greg?"

Mills and Zanita looked at each other.

Stan, as usual, turned red.

Tyber burst out laughing.

"C'mere, Spike." Greg wrapped Cody in a bear embrace, teasingly covering his son's mouth with his hand. Cody squirmed and giggled behind his palm.

Greg's dancing green eyes met Tyber's over his son's head.

There was a silent meeting of the minds; in that instant the beginning of a friendship was forged between the two men.

Then, for a reason he couldn't name, Greg's focus shifted to Mills.

Mills was lifting her coffee cup to her lips. At the sight of two pairs of identically glittering green eyes focusing on her, she froze. A chill skittered down her back. Someone's walking on my grave. She mentally shook herself, intentionally breaking the moment by sipping from her cup.

Gregor released Cody and stood up. "Thanks for the hospitality, but we really gotta run. If you want some help with that bike, Tyber, give me a call. I'm good at bringing things to life. I have a lot of background experience." He was speaking to Tyber, but his focus was on Mills.

Mills pointedly ignored his look and his double-entendres. While the son was adorable, she wanted nothing to do with the errant father. Even if his hair curled ever so slightly over his collar and he had the greenest eyes she had ever seen.

Cody said good night to everybody very sweetly. After saying good night to Mills, he beamed up at Greg while jerking his thumb in her direction and raising his eyebrows up and down a la Groucho.

Out in the hallway, Gregor helped Cody put on his jacket. Glancing back one more time at Mills, he put his hands on his son's shoulders. Leaning down, he whispered into the little ear, "Stacked."

They left the house trying to whistle a song together.

"Do you think Auntie is safe in the same wing as LaLeche?"

Tyber watched Zanita remove her robe from under heavy-lidded eyes. "The question is: Is LaLeche safe from Auntie?" Zanita stuck her tongue out at him.

He grinned, closing his eyes. "Are you ever getting into bed tonight?"

She had washed her hair, dried her hair, took a bath, redried her hair, slathered on lotion, made faces at herself in the mirror to see if she had developed any new lines since this morning, and sprayed perfume on. Through all of this, Tyber waited patiently.

"In a minute..."