Rica Mader stood rigidly in the doorway, a hand covering her mouth, as she stared in on her companion. The Brittany spaniel was staring into a glass of wine!

Quickly, the doe hurried over to the chair where her companion sat motionless, her attention on the dark surface within the glass. The black-curled feline, Mdm, Bigeard (but now regarded as Tainkong Shanlao), remained at the door, watching in silence as her guest knelt down beside the hunter.

“Menie?” the cervine medium asked softly. “It’s me, Rica. Please come back to me now.”

The doe took the canine’s hand and held it firmly, softly speaking in low tones to the other. Presently, Menie DuMond blinked as the glassiness of her eyes faded to clarity. She gave a gasp and sat up in her chair, blinking some more as she tried to gauge her surroundings. Then she turned to face her employer who bore a worried look on her tawny countenance.

“O, Mon Deu!” Those words were sobbed as the canine threw her arms around the kneeling deer femme and buried her face into the other’s shoulder.

They were like this for over a minute, the spaniel femme crying while her cervine employer and friend rocked her as one would a frighten child. Soon Rica held the sniffling Brittany at arm’s length, waiting for her to catch her breath before speaking.

“Now why did you go and do this without my being around, you silly girl,” the medium softly chided the other, even though Menie was a least a few years older than the deer.

“I’m sorry, Rica, but I felt some compulsion to look into the wine. Something wasn’t right outside the house, as if someone was trying to listen in on us!”

By now Tainkong Shanlao was in the room, standing behind the kneeling Roe doe.

“How do you mean, ‘someone trying to listen in’?” The brown-furred feline with black curls stood with arms folded, looking down at the pair.

Without thinking, the Brittany spaniel took up the glass and drained half of its contents in one gulp. Setting it back on the table, Menie DuMond regarded their hostess.

“When your companions were leaving, with you and Rica following, something in the back of my mind seemed to be telling me that a message was waiting in the glass.”

This made the deer femme frown. “A message? How do you mean?”

With shaky hands the canine femme made motions towards the glass as she spoke.

“This – voice! – told me to fill a glass and look into it, for what was important would be revealed!”

“What voice?” asked the hostess as she seated herself to the other side of Menie.

“I, I don’t know! It sounded like a whisper at first, but grew stronger as it kept telling me to fill the glass and look in!”

Rica’s frown grew deeper. “What did this voice sound like? Male? Female?”

Shaking her head, Menie took up the glass once more and drained it. Once it was set down, the black-curled feline took up the bottle to fill it, but the cervine set her hand over it.

“No more, please. We need her coherent.”

With a shrug, Shanlao went to where she had sat earlier and filled her own glass.

“Now, Menie, you said a voice told you to look into the glass. Did it say why?”

Again the Brittany femme shook her head, her own dark-red curls dancing about her head.

“Non, just to look in.”

“And what did you see?”

Squeezing her eyes close, Menie DuMond slowly began to speak about her vision.

“I could see the outside of the house, with the dark trees and the raining falling all around. Then I saw a figure moving from tree to tree, trying not to be seen while carrying something in its hands.”

“Could you see what he was carrying?”

“Non, but it was small, square, and I think it had a strap of some sort attached.”

“Go on, please.”

With a quick lick of her lips, the canine femme continued: “I saw him stopping at what I believe was a fence; the one surrounding the grounds. He then took up what looked like a blanket and threw it across the top of the fence.”

After taking a sip of wine, the hostess commented: “That would make sense, so as not to get stuck on the spear points along the top of the wrought iron fencing that surrounds the grounds.”

This did make sense to Rica Mader, as something from what had once been mentioned long ago came to the fore. She ignored it for the moment as she tried to coax her friend to continue.

“Then I saw an automobile sitting there on the street, and this furson took both box and blanket and put them into the boot. He gets in the back seat, and I can barely see two others in the front seat.”

Leaning forward as the tale began to pique her interest, Tainkong Shanlao asked softly, “Were you able to hear anything they might have been saying?”

Again Menie shook her head. “There was no sound; not even the rain falling. But about then, when you would think they would have been leaving, another figure comes staggering down the sidewalk.”

Rica and Shanlao looked to each other, puzzled.

“Another figure?” the cervine femme asked.

“Oui, but he walked kinda funny, as if he wasn’t feeling well. And when he got by the back of the automobile, he sorta stumbled against it before moving on. But then something very strange happens to the auto!”

“How do you mean ‘strange’?” asked Rica.

Sitting up straight in her chair, Menie DuMond looked puzzled while making gestures with both hands. Then she looked from her employer, to their hostess, then back to the doe.

“Slowly, a bright blue light appeared on the back of the roof of the automobile, right above the door. Then like a spider’s web, little strands of this blue light spread out to cover the entire auto, before it became a solid blue light. But the light changed to a very bright white before it flared and disappeared!”

Something formed a solid lump in the pit of the cervine medium’s stomach at what might have occurred.

“And the car?” she asked, knowing what the answer might be.

Staring straight into her employer and friend’s eyes, the Brittany simply said, “Gone!”

The salon was quiet for a long time, save for the clock above the fire and the rain pattering on the glass. Rica Mader slowly stood up before helping her canine companion to her own feet. Together they headed for the door, where they paused for Rica to address their hostess.

“I’m taking her to her room and bed. When I’m finished, we’ll have a lot to talk about afterwards.”

The brown feline nodded, draining the last of the wine from the bottle to her glass.

It was a half-hour later that the cervine medium from Silesia entered the salon once more. Rica had led the tired but distraught canine up to her room, helped her undress, and then pulled the bedclothes over her. Menie DuMond didn’t want the deer to leave, holding tightly like a child afraid of the dark. They were like that for several minutes until Rica untangled the clinging arms and settled the other against the pillows with a smile and soft words. With several kisses to assure her companion that things would be better, Rica Mader left the room, but only after turning on the washroom light and partly closing that door before returning downstairs.

The silent servants had been through during her absence, as the table had been cleared of the detritus of the party. Clean ashtrays were set out as the rest of the furniture had been returned to their former positions in the room. A fresh ice bucket with a fresh bottle of wine and two clean glasses sat on the table, and the fire appeared to have been built back up.

As the Roe doe walked up to her hostess, Tainkong Shanlao reached up to take the humidor in hand and opened it. Rica paused, looking in at the small cigars held within, then without a thought, dipped her hand in to get one. The French-Vietnamese feline did as well. When she set the box back in its place, she took up one of the long slender wooden spills from a holder on the hearth, lit it, and then offered the flame to her guest. Remembering how Menie accepted the light, Rica did the same, and made sure not to inhale. Shanlao lit her smoke before tossing the remains of the stick into the fire.

When both had been seated on the sofa, and the wine glasses filled, they stared into the fire for a while, sipping both cigars and wine. Presently, Shanlao broke the silence.

“Any idea with what your friend was saying?”

The deer femme took another light draw on her cigarillo, played the smoke around her mouth before expelling it. She had marveled at the taste of the tobacco, but noted how much harsher the smoke was compared to her cigarettes.

“I have a theory, but that is all it is; a theory.”

The feline nodded after taking a sip of wine. “Time to lay the cards on the table then.”

Rica nodded as well, leaning forward to knock ash into a clean ashtray. “I believe the crash of the unknown craft in the Black Forest may have been the start of this whole business, as well as the unknown messages Maria Osric was supposed to be receiving from Aldebaran.”

“Messages?”

The deer nodded after taking a sip of wine. “Some years back she claimed to be receiving secret messages, in some unknown code or language, from out there,” Rica pointed her cigar towards the ceiling, “and this got Hitler very excited. He felt that someone may be trying to reach the Aryan colony left here ages ago, so he established the Vril Society to try and make contact. Which was why Osric gathered together twelve other mediums she either knew of, or heard of, and could trust them to assist in her reaching this ‘civilization’ out in space.”

The feline eyed the other through a thin veil of cigar smoke. “Twelve others, plus this Maria Osric? You mean, as in a coven?”

The cervine experimented with some smoke rings, eyed them critically, and then answered her hostess.

“Oui, a witch’s coven, if you like. The others could be thought of as batteries to ‘power’ Maria’s skills in being a radio receiver for these messages. But the problem was that these receptions appeared to be coded, and that was taking a very long time in trying to decipher their meaning. Some looked as if they were attempting to reach Earth, and asking what was happening, while others seemed to be questions to someone, or something, specific. Which got Himmler and some of his occultists at Wewelsburg Castle thinking that these messages were meant to whoever was on board that crashed vehicle!”

Tainkong Shanlao said nothing for almost a minute, just staring into the fire as she took a deep pull on her cigar. She let the smoke out in a long streamer in front of her, not noticing it as though she was lost in thought.

“And you believe all these events are somehow tied together,” the brown-furred hostess finally said.

Rica nodded in return, taking another draw of her smoke. She was finding that she was enjoying these small cigars.

“My belief is that this ‘spaceship’, to use the American term for the craft, had crashed by accident while coming here to find the remains of a possible colony. If one ever existed. Certain items of special interest to Reichfürher Himmler had been recovered for further studies while the debris were hauled away for an attempt at recreating another such craft.

“So what happened to the crew? I don’t know, as being a minor member of the coven I’m not allowed the privilege of knowing fully the extent of what Osric and the others knew. But I have a feeling that they may have survived and are trying to recover these ‘items’ that Menie and I have been smuggling out of Germany.”

Deer looked to feline. “We cannot trust any one person, body of people, or government, to hand them over to. My friend, in a prior trance, had a vision of what these items are intended for. Which is why we must get them as far away as possible from greedy hands, to safe guard our world from whatever devastation that lurks around the corner for this world!”

Standing up to walk over to the fire, the black haired feline stood motionless for a moment, wine glass in one hand and cigar in the other. She sipped the smoke, then the wine, before turning to face her guest.

“I understand your feelings on this matter. Having seen my own country fall under French influence and control, I would do anything to snap that leash and free my people. But, as you said, there ‘items’, as you call them, must not be allowed to fall into any hands that would turn them into weapons of such destruction, that the whole world would no longer be safe.”

The Roe deer femme nodded. “Which brings me to the next thought. I believe that crew, or maybe just a sole survivor, is trying to recover these items that are now in our possession. While this, eh, ‘person’ has not moved against Menie and I may mean that ‘he’ must have understood our motivation in getting these items away from such greedy, and I might say ‘blood-stained’, hands, that he is following us, maybe acting out as our ‘guardian angel’ during our flight.”

Shanlao returned to her seat by her guest. “So what your friend, Menie, had seen earlier, may have been an event meant for her to see?”

Nodding, Rica took another pull of her shortened cigar before laying it into an ashtray. When she rinsed her mouth with the last of the wine, she continued.

“My belief is this person may be from Aldebaran, and has a very powerful means of affecting other people’s thoughts. He could be a telepath, which may be how his kind communicate. But now I’m speaking like a cheap thriller from off of a sidewalk newspaper stand.” She gave a slight chuckle before composing herself once more. “But that could be a true statement, and he had somehow learned of our own skills with divination. So it is possible that he has been following us, to keep an eye on our well-being. And somehow learned of the Gestapo being put on our trail.”

“Gestapo?” The feline hostess was surprised by this statement.

Rica again nodded. “My own stupidity on the train this morning had alerted them to who may have been responsible for the theft of these . . .” She paused before blurting out, “crystals that seem to be necessary for the people of Aldebaran to travel from one world to the next!”

This made the tall brown-furred Vietnamese feline raise her eyebrows in surprise!

Holding up a hand, the cervine medium forestalled any enquires. “Please, let me finish first! In a prior divination, Menie DuMond saw these crystals being used in what could only be the true means for their creation. And her petit mal earlier this evening might have indicated that whoever is following us may have shown us the peril we’re in, and that he had dealt with it.”

“How so?”

“When my canine friend said that the figure running from the house was carrying a small box, it was a listening device that the Gestapo uses to eavesdrop on conversations without being seen. I’m not exactly sure how it works; all I know is that they can set a microphone against a wall, a door, or – as in tonight’s usage – against a window pane, while the user listens in on an earpiece. And that figure walking up the street and passing the automobile, I’m certain that was our ‘guardian angel’ making his way past the automobile containing the Gestapo agents sent to follow us, and possibly recover the crystals.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Tainkong Shanlao asked, “Then how did he make the car disappear?”

Shaking her head, the Roe doe half-filled her glass as the effects of the wine were really beginning to take effect.

“He probably used some device to make both automobile and its occupants disappear in whatever means necessary to eliminate his enemies. What’s the word? ...technology! Their technology is so far ahead of what we have here on our world is why Hitler and his ilk want it! And that is why the two of us are trying to get away from their greedy hands! Can you imagine if the Luftwaffe had bombs made like that, and dropped them on Paris, London, Moscow, even Washington in America! There wouldn’t just be craters, there would be nothing left to show that whatever it was dropped on ever existed!”

The Vietnamese feline femme was leaning back from an overly excited doe, whose eyes were bulging a little from their sockets, and rimmed in tears! Carefully, and gently, Shanlao reached out and took hands held out to her from fear; took them and held them as she drew the now sobbing doe into her arms.

They sat like that on the sofa for minutes as Rica Mader cried her fears and frustrations out of her -- being in the comfort of someone who knew what it was like to be controlled by powers not of her choosing.

The clock on the mantle tolled the hour. When she finally pulled herself together, Rica Mader sat up and scrubbed the wetness from her eyes as she gulped the last of her jag.

“I am so sorry for making a fool of myself that way,” she hiccuped.

A heartfelt need to further comfort a distressed sister overcame Shanlao such that she slid closer to the doe and wrapped her arms around her in a more loving manner. They hugged each other for a minute before Rica looked up at that dark brown countenance framed by black curls, then leaned in for a kiss. They held it momentarily, then broke.

“Thank you,” the cervine said demurely. “I’m sorry for being such a baby.”

“Don’t be,” the feline said softly, stroking the other’s head gently. “It was something that had to come out. And I’m happy it was with me. Because now I can set into motion things that are necessary for you to complete your task at hand.”

She stood up, and helping her guest to her feet, began leading her out of the salon to the stairway beyond.

“You shall go on to bed, my dear, while I have much to do before breakfast. And when the dawn comes, I will see you and Menie off on your journey to a place where the two of you shall find safety and be able to unload this burden you are now carrying.”

They paused at the bottom of the stairway where Shanlao gave Rica another kiss before sending her up to her room for the night.