The first thing I noticed about the auditorium was the small, black, cushioned chair directly in front of me. I realized the setup and sat down- Sarah took the one on the other side, and Howard took the elevated, white one in the middle with the slender speaker's podium in front of it, allowing him to look down on everyone except the people high up in the back- which was the second thing I noticed, the room's size.

Thousands of Illuminati! Thousands! Granted, it's hierarchical, but I had no idea that so many people could be in on the big secret, with it still being a secret. Wouldn't someone blab eventually? Then again, these people certainly have ways of dealing with that.. such as unity. I doubt this sort of thing is the usual- likely they were just all trying to intimidate him as a common goal- but everyone in the room was staring at Howard's face, with few blinks.

If Howard cared, he didn't show it. He pulled the chair's microphone down to his mouth and shouted, in an echoed, booming voice I've only used a couple of times, "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Illuminati!!!" His loudness was matched by the sound of a massive wave of clapping. As with the staring, everyone was doing it. I immediately understood the dynamic involved- one lone soon-to-be-Dominator is directly showing force in the face of the combined might of the world's controllers. My God, can he really be that powerful?!

In an instant, the clapping ended, full stop. Howard picked up the unused podium, folded it in half, and tossed it over his shoulder, creating a significant clatter in the silence. Ah. He's proving he doesn't need to write down his lines.

He spoke clearly and with definition to every one of his words. "Annuit C\'9cptis: Novus Ordo Seclorum. The clock has ticked again, for what could be the final time. Yes, for all of you who don't know me, I am immortal, a product of Northberg." Some murmuring grew from the back as his sentence ended. Maybe not all of them knew his true origins? "And I have been created with one task in life: to serve as the Dominator of the Illuminati." Serve? There's a laugh. Something tells me Howie isn't going to be serving much of anyone.

"As Dominator, I promise to uphold the power of the Illuminati, to uphold secrecy until the Day of Exposition," I can't wait for that. "to be a fair judge, to refrain from excessive alcohol," That line must just be pure tradition. I can barely stand the smell of booze. "to avoid recruitment of the unworthy, to defend my fellow Illuminatus, to dispense justice as I see fit, and to choose an- no, ladies and gentlemen, I just told you why I will not be choosing an heir." The interruption of the speech with that last part was too obviously rehearsed- to me, anyway. Maybe it's better if he does sound rehearsed. I know fuck all about how Illuminati use words to judge people.

"I have only one thing to say about the previous Dominator. Any problems you might have had with him, personally, are gone. He's retired, and if any of you wanted revenge against him for something or other - you're just too late, assholes." You're not going to find that level of directness in normal politicians. That paragraph was useful- he demanded a blank slate with regards to personal grievances, and he's going to get it- the reactions to that were laughter and a few fingersnap with half-joking calls of "Shucks!", "Damn!" and similar words in various languages. However, I noticed a man and two women in the front row who didn't appear to be amused at all. Long-term enemies?

"Right now, there's one friendly reminder I want to make." There was a general, almost imperceptible bending-forward, when people want to hear what someone is saying. "WE are the ELITE!", he boomed. That's just to fuel egos, I know- but it just sounds so weird in the middle of a speech! Then again, I should be rather used to weird by now..

"When I came here, I was hit with many more things than I expected. I didn't want to be giving you that litany of undecided issues. New policy time, folks- if you give it to me to choose, I will choose it within three days or give it to someone else, or I'll just say it can't be chosen. I will not let all this sit here, and I can't think of why he did." 'To make things harder for you, why else?', I almost tried to say. The assembled masters did not match my cynicism and gave him applause and cheers instead.

"Likewise, I have something to say to all of you- choose things for yourselves. Don't rely on me to make your decisions for you. I'm here to keep order, to break ties, to judge. Nothing more. I've been examining this organization from day one and I can say that everything works much, much more smoothly when you put down your vengefulness and your pettiness and you just decide the major issues breathing together with each other- then go back to your vengefulness and your pettiness when it doesn't matter anymore." For his good advice, he got boisterous, pleased approval of all kinds.

"About spying. Right now, we have tens of thousands of spies. Is that enough? I don't know. Is everything that needs to be spied upon being spied upon? I don't know, no one person can. But I do know that we need to encourage it. As the plan moves forward, intelligence becomes crucial. So if there's any piece of spying you think needs to be done and you don't have the resources for it, go to whoever your boss is and ask him directly. He's here; he knows what I want." There was a bit of clapping- that came from the back, which is where the lower ranks likely are, the ones with bosses who control their resources.

"That leads me to pass my judgments on what we've been doing and how we can make it better. All of you know what recursive encompassization is, and what the main problems are- sometimes the normal organizations don't form, and sometimes our manipulation doesn't have the desired effect. It's a mistake to believe that the sheeple will always join organizations for the things that they strongly do or don't believe in- we know that the ones that aren't willing to speak aren't willing to fight. But I'm asking that we take it one step further. Hidden, private beliefs can get in our way in other ways. This has been discarded many times in the past, but now it's time for Advanced Recursive Encompassization, where we take a more pro-active stand instead of a reactive one. We need to form the organizations now, anything that needs to be there, even if it would theoretically hurt us or not. We need to encourage them to believe anything that they feel like believing, just so they know- on any level- that their beliefs can't do anything. Most of you have heard that as traditional Illuminated speech, but I'm talking about it more literally- make legality supreme, make the framework unstoppable, while giving the sheeple a large cage to play in. And if we want to stop them from believing something to our detriment, we can do it instantly, because they will be organized, placed into a camp. The odds of any need for emergency secrecy measures are low, because I am not merely suggesting that the larger organizations have Illuminated or servant heads, but we also encourage normals to do it themselves, and we place a manipulator in if it's worth it. Now you'll notice I haven't named any names, because this applies to everyone. I want all of you to keep what I said in mind when doing your jobs- it is universal. You've probably heard most of this before as theory, but I want you to make it concrete. You already know the psychological factors that make all this possible- you know how the masses react- that is my plan. Because the end of secrecy will happen in my lifetime and I want us prepared!" I was amazed that I understood all of that. That paragraph still just doesn't sound right to me- I wanted to put it all in other words- but when Howard was writing the speech, I couldn't come up with those words and so I kept my mouth shut. I still can't. The problem is definitely mine- I don't understand how the Illuminati thinks yet.

"I know there's been some hubbub about technological priorities. I've been over them and I don't intend to change them." The finality in his tone ended the paragraph and the topic.

"But there is one thing I do intend to change. Every Illuminatus who does not have them will get two Enforcers. As I said, we are the elite, and we should all be treated like it." Cheering from the back. This I understood even before he bothered explaining it to me. Give them something they're going to get eventually, and make them love you for it.

"So what you're saying is that every level 5 deserves Enforcers?", someone from the fifth row asked, keeping his tone completely neutral.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." The lower levels cheered their agreement. "Is that of particular offense to you?"

"No, but I know some people who hate the whole idea."

"So do I, and those people can all go fuck themselves." The lower levels cheered even louder, while the front rows remained generally silent. So much for unity. "There is no reason why every one of us shouldn't have them. They are invaluable. It's time to make them stop being the sole property of the highest levels because, trickle-down issues aside, they improve efficiency, we all know that. And that should be our primary concern. And yes, I know what the other concerns are- but we're not going to let fear of each other stifle us this time." 'Fear of each other' being the fact that those creations can probably kill almost anyone in an instant. More cheering and some applause came from the back, letting Howard take a breather- I realized that he was using the time to collect his thoughts.

"Now let's talk about what we all want. The end goal. The Day of Exposition, The Final Triumph, the End of Secrecy. The fact that it's called by so many names is a testament to how much we think about it." General agreement. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, it's coming. You know what we have. And yes, you're damn right- I do plan to use mind control implants to do it!" 'Well, why the fuck wouldn't you?', I almost tried to ask, my cynicism reaching up and grabbing my brain. The answer is likely a political one. After all, what's to stop him from doing it to them? The irony of that made me smile imperceptibly, as the Illuminati clapped and cheered once more. But there was something else as well- one man said, to himself but loud enough for everyone to hear it, "yes.. and we all know what you plan to do.." The man stood up, and shouting "Sic sempi-", drew a gun from his belt to aim it at Howard's head. I zipped the gun out of my trenchcoat with my usual alacrity, aimed it at his head- two gunshots went off, one after the other- and I squeezed the trigger. I immediately realized what had happened. Sarah had fired before I did, her bullet smacking straight into the man's trigger, causing it to go off, just before I gave him a new eye hole in the left part of his forehead. The corpse slumped into the chair. I looked at Howard, wondering if it had all been over that quickly- he was leaning back to the right, covering up the bullet hole.

He dodged it.

'Holy fucking shit, why didn't anyone tell me I could dodge bullets?', I asked myself, before my rationality returned and I realized the obvious answer.

"There's also been" Wait a minute- someone just tried to kill him and Howard's continuing his speech?! What the fuck?! The show, apparently, must go on. "a lot of hubbub about space, how hard it is to achieve it and how many resources need be devoted to get anything up there. I have only ten words to say about space. We will get there completely in the next hundred years." There were some shocked looks and no clapping- I imagine that had nothing to do with the assassination attempt and everything to do with the fact that most of them probably expected it sooner. Howard's not about to make a promise he can't keep- not to these people. And if NASA's (and the Illuminati backing them's) general inability to provide human colonies over the past thirty years means anything, it's that getting to space is going to take a very long time indeed. But then again, these people could be hiding their own technology, as they did in the bioengineering department.. wait a minute, I just killed someone, what am I doing thinking about all this now? It looks like I'm adopting Howard's way of thinking, pragmatism incarnate.. as I realized that, I felt fear once more.

"I know this hasn't been very long, but I'm not going to bore you and that's all the words I care to speak." There was some applause, but not enough for a finale. I looked at them, and it was almost as if they weren't finished with him yet.

A middle-aged man stood up from his seat, hopped up onto the stage to come face-to-face with Howard, and said, clearly, "And you'll get the power when you'll pass the tests." Howard seemed shocked- I had no idea they were allowed to surprise him with something like that, and obviously neither did he. The audience, however, was holding down smiles.

"You were all informed of this, weren't you.", Howard addressed the audience. Everyone answered a general affirmative- in a great many different languages.

Howard, apparently, was going to complete the show to their satisfaction. He laughed and smiled, waving to the crowd as he followed the man offstage. Sarah quietly followed him and I walked off behind them.

I can't believe that just happened. I just executed someone- a member of the Illuminati, no less- and no one appears to give a shit. What kind of place is this, anyway?! And then there was that little matter of bullet-dodging- the fastest thing I've ever dodged before was a rock.. definitely a true example of "you don't know until you try". Of course, I've only gotten started. The weirdness has just begun.

Our host took Howard through some corridors and down some stairs, and we ended up in.. what appeared to be a motley prison. Howard recoiled when he saw it; so did I. It looked as if- no, someone actually had taken a variety of cells from different eras of recent history and put them all in the same place. The oldest appeared to be something out of the Middle Ages and the newest was made out of plexiglass. The next-to-newest, an ordinary, dirty cell prison, contained a man.. or his living remains. Wrinkled, gnarled, and reeking of his own shit, he looked up at Howard with cataract-filled eyes.

"Lemme guess. This is what happens to me if I fail, right?", Howard said unemotionally. The host simply nodded and I realized what I'd have to be doing. Although watching Howard get thrown into the chamber for all eternity would be poetic justice incarnate, the same problems Sarah and I would have with his death would still apply.

"My paranoia was too low." No, Howard, my paranoia was too low! "I didn't anticipate something like this. So.. what are the rules?"

"Go home.", he replied. "You'll get your information on your plane. That's all I'm allowed to say." I knew- absolutely knew- that Howard could have torn him to pieces on the spot. But an Inheritor, obviously, does not do that to what will be his subjects.

"I know why you did it this way.. you were worried about me killing people after I heard them." If Howard's right- and I have serious difficulty visualizing Howard being wrong- that's incredibly bad. The man simply nodded again, grinning. Howard sharply turned around and walked out.

As I turned around, I heard the decrepit prisoner speak, a thing that sounded like a dog trying to talk through slime. "Howard.. you're immortal... hahahahahAHAHAHA..." He then began hacking and coughing. Howard didn't turn around to answer him.

Howard knew his way around the installation rather well and we silently walked to the internal rail system, which started taking us back to Howard's plane. What insanity, all of this. An Illuminatus tries to assassinate him, but dies by my hand instead, and no one seems to care- was that set up, too?!- and then he is given the final exam from hell after ten years of life and a guarantee of world ownership. I didn't think they'd waste the resources on a possibility of failure. All that work, all that bioengineering, down the drain. I don't understand this place yet, but there is one thing I do know, I realized, as the rail system parked us a few feet from the plane itself.

"Nothing is ever easy.", I said to him as we entered it, Sarah going up front to the controls. "Not even for you."

"Nope.", he replied. "Not even for me. I had no fucking idea. Is this confusing you?", he asked, as the jet lifted itself off into the air and blasted off once more.

"What, the fact that they've spent so much time working on you, you're going to get ultimate power over everything, and you have to do this kind of thing for your enormous parliament?" He nodded. "Nah. Murphy's Law affects all of us." Including- no, especially the Master, because of his position. They need to test him now, which will apparently be bad enough, but it's likely to get nastier as they dislike him for whatever reason. That must be why no one was particularly surprised at an assassination attempt- this is, after all, the Illuminati, where people likely plot against each other on a constant basis.

"Unexpected bad things are distributed indiscriminately. We've lived by that maxim for a long time. In case you didn't already figure it out- which you probably should have by now- there's no such thing as 'fair'."

"Don't worry. I figured it out." Howard clicked a few buttons and the information appeared on his screen, and Sarah climbed into the back seat to take a look.

Howard groaned loudly when he read them- I just shook my head and put it in my lap. Ugh. Sarah muttered "Oh, that's just stupid.." under her breath.

1. The first test will last for 28 days, starting at midnight PST. (Wait, how's that possible? Oh yes- we're going west at a faster rate than the rotation of the earth..)
2. You will find that your communications have been severely curtailed. You are to accept this for the 28 days.
3. You and anything you own must stay on your island.
4. You may not intentionally bring anything, save this jet and its current contents, to your island.
5. You have twelve Enforcers and one hundred unimplanted normal servants at your command during those 28 days. (Unimplanted and at your command? This oughta be good.)
5. A particular variety of potato will be available for food. Only the unimplanted servants may farm it. (Yay. None of that crap for me or Sarah.) You and your servants may only eat what is produced on the land surface of your island.
6. No humanoids may be killed or neglected to die during the 28 days. (But why would he do that? Maybe if he gets really, really hungry..)
7. You must run a 3-kilometer course three times a day. When you start running the course each time, you must complete it in 18 minutes. (That's not fast at all, especially not for him. But apparently they want him burning calories.)
8. You must complete a given mental exercise each day.

"Oh yeah, Howard.", Sarah said with lots of sarcasm. "Noooo one wants to kill the Inheritor, not before they have a reason to, uh-uh... aaa, who's my next employer?"

"Sarah...", Howard warned her.

"Sorry. Realism took over for a minute. Ya know, it would be easy as hell for them to push this just a little bit too far, and the other two tests would.." Drain and kill? Is that what they're going for?

"Yes.. but there's food already on the island, you know that. And that self-sufficiency crap Daddy was telling me about.. just a warning, nothing more." I'm surprised he got a warning.

"And you have to solve one of those problems every day, that and the running.. shit." What if luck was bad and he couldn't keep it up? For a minute I doubted it'd be that hard. I didn't know. Time would tell.

"They want to make sure I'm burning calories and that I can continue to think straight. You know, though... this looks like it was planned as if I'd have to do it alone.. it looks like not that much thought was put into it.", Howard said. I laughed. What the hell? These guys are supposed to be the smartest in the world!

"Committee decisions look like that.", Sarah explained. "You know how it goes. Somebody pushes, somebody pulls, sometimes decisions are made without enough information. They sat down, took a good, careful look at the Northberg specifications for you, figured out how much you'd eat, argued about just what to make you do.. and they completely forgot the edible plants and animals already on the island.. as well as the two of us." What insanity. They weren't thinking about Sarah after all the time it took them to end up implanting her? That's ridiculous.

"Wait a minute.", I said, shaking my head. "That can't be right. You mean to say that the organization in charge of everything, the suuuper-smart Illuminati- just fucked up?"

"Or no one bothered to tell them.", Sarah replied. "My bet's on the Dominator simply not divulging information. You said he warned you. He was probably pulling strings from the first." So some of them didn't know about her, fewer of them knew about me (I knew some had to..), no one was thinking about the local plants, and they came up with something based on misinformation. I realized then what that does to decision making. Garbage in..

"That would explain it.", Howard replied. "Oh, and Sarah.. about that mistake."

"I know! I'm sorry, Howard." 'Sorry for hitting the guy in the trigger, or sorry that Howard dodged it?', I didn't ask.

"You were telling me before how you were too good, and that's how you got into this mess.", Howard said patiently. "I told you that there was no such thing as 'too good'. I was wrong- you hit your mark exactly on target, exactly perfectly. You blasted him right in the trigger." I chuckled. "Next time.. don't!"

"Dammit, I know! If you would have been just about anyone else..."

"..you probably would have found a way to kill me already." Sarah was.. blushing? Ah. That's a compliment.

"And as for those potatoes..", Howard said, scrolling down the rules. Specially engineered, require constant maintenance, made to supply him with enough nutrition to get through this test. This is going to be more aggravating than anything else, for all three of us. Howard was making a plan to get them to work and talked to himself in a blend of Latin and English. He finished it, I practiced reciting a work-or-else speech in Spanish, and then he went to look at the dossier of the guy I killed. Nathaniel Lee, age 32, with dwindling fortunes and a grudge. The fool. I imagine Howard's going to have to deal with more idiots like that in the future, which means that I'll get a steady stream of commands to kill.