Trump pawed at the touch-screen on the cell. Making calls had gotten way easier for him with the change in technology; it was pretty tricky for him back when phones were still rotary.
"Coordinates Wheel-Judgement-Temperance," the voice answered.
"Hiya Professor," Trump purred.
"Oh hello there! Thank you for checking in. How is everything proceeding?"
"Maggie's still trapped, Max is still sick. Everyone else is laying low, sticking to their cover stories."
"Hm, I see. Updates please..."
"Suki is working in a pizza shop, Wraith is working at a movie theater, Darius is selling men's clothing, Callan is building furniture in a factory, Frank is doing market research, Goner is delivering pizzas - from a different shop than Suki's, Angst is washing windows, Aqua is working for a cleaning company and Dexter is harvesting wheat samples for an agricultural study."
The sound of typing on a keyboard. "And what about Akimoto?"
"He's here... I don't remember meeting him before. He seems quite strange."
"Imagine a collage of The 13th Warrior, The Last Samurai, Star Wars and The Terminator."
"Professor, I rarely get out to the movies and when Max downloads them I often fall asleep in his lap."
"Yes, of course. Well, the story is a rather muddled mix of a viking on a vision quest, training by ancient Japanese warriors, clothes inspired by the same plus an army surplus store and tropical tourists, a strange connection with version Citadel - if you recall that tale - a mysterious scar, a sprinkle of amnesia, and a dash of time travel. He's generally a lost soul, enjoys a mug of ale, and is relatively unfamiliar with modern technology. He also writes poetry."
"I can see why Max gets along with him so well."
"And how is he occupying his time while we wait for the window?"
Trump studied the movements of the large man on the rooftop of the brownstone, clear in the light of the full moon. "I believe, Professor, that he is attempting to cast a spell."
...
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