Dreams of a Paper Moon

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Prologue

Dr. Fauna Ceres had spent most of her life avoiding military bases, and yet fate would have her spirited away to those places time and again. Days after the fierce battle at St. Katharine's Docks, Fauna was brought in chains to a British airbase two hours away from London - RAF Alconbury - one of the many plots of British land leased by the American military to house their warplanes. Unlike her whirlwind tour of the US bases in South Vietnam, Fauna was not a VIP but a prisoner placed under lock and key in the brig.

She wore the bright orange rags of an inmate and had nothing more than a wooden bench and toilet bowl in her tiny military cell. Her only luxuries were the steel-barred windows that let her bask in the sunlight, priority shower time and special order, albeit simple vegetarian meals that were made to order - luxuries that Fauna would later learn were negotiated by Major Omega on her behalf.

Because of this, Fauna counted the passage of time in meals. They were the most joyful parts of her meager existence in RAF Alconbury, after all.

Her days began with breakfast served bright and early after the morning reverie. She would watch the flag ceremony from her barred windows and see the Union Jack and the Star-Spangled Banner raised side-by-side. This was the signal for the first set of Fauna's visitors to arrive: medical staff of the advanced Amelia Watson Memorial Clinic who would perform thorough check ups on Ophelia Lowry's behalf.

Advanced medical equipment was carted into her cell, monitoring her physical health and observing her lingering corruption. Fauna recognized some of the techniques that were used in her checkups. It brought a small smile to her lips to know that her years of research were starting to see the light of day.

A hearty late lunch followed her checkups, paired with free time in the prison yard. It was her last respite before the less cordial of her guests would arrive. Trains of men and women in black suits, agents of the CIA and MI6 for the most part, would take the place of the medical staff. Medical equipment was replaced by recording equipment, lie detectors and all sorts of gadgets that Fauna had seen in spy films.

Unfortunately, none of the agents were Hollywood material. Good looks and charming charisma would have helped Fauna tolerate the agents just a little bit more, but it wasn't meant to be. Thus, the stodgy agents asked their stodgy questions ad nauseum.

' According to your Occidental College record, back in 1963... '

' When you were a faculty member at the college, you met a certain... '

' Didn't you know that draft-dodging carries serious consequences? For you to do it twice... '

' Spill the beans on Clover Gosling! We know you're accomplices! '

' Chieftain tanks are the strongest armor of the West right now! How in the world did a freaking deer...!? '

' How can we be sure that you're not working for the Soviets? Or one of those Fifth Columnists? The KGB has agents all over... '

' What has the Telstar Nephilim told you about the Otherworld that she came from? Do you believe her? Can she be trusted? '

The questions kept coming without end. Fauna tried to answer them, but every session was overwhelming to say the least. She was made to answer questions about anything and everything under the sun - all down to the tiniest detail.

However, for some strange reason, none of the agents dared to ask about the details of her work with the Monsanto Company. It was almost as if the existence of Agent Orange and Agent Gold were taboo to them and their bosses. Was it because of her powerful patron Ophelia Lowry, perhaps? Or could Major General Sparrowhawk have been pulling strings behind the scenes?

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