* It is mid-afternoon on Monday, the third of May, in the year
eighteen-eighty-six.  Like many spring afternoons in Paris, this one is sunny
and warm, with the faintest of breezes slicing through the humidity this near to
the Seine.  A letter left wedged between the front door and the doorjamb of
Gabriel Mehler's modest home now rests on a small table in his work room, open
and bathed in the late morning sunlight from a nearby window.
* "Gabriel," the letter reads in flowing script, "A matter of import requires
your attention.  Visit the future site of monumental construction for further
discussion."
* Gabriel reads over the letter. Any word who it's from?
* An elaborate letter 'A' on the back of the letter is the only signature,
though it is a familiar one to Gabriel.  His mentor always was fond of names
that began with the first letter in the Roman alphabet.
* Gabriel smiles. He finishes up a cup of tea he had brewed earlier and folds
the letter, placing it in a pocket in his unlined overcoat. He opens and walks
out the door and makes sure it's secured. He walks down the many flights of
stairs, greeting Mrs. Leroy as he walks out the building (if she's there).
* The amiable widow Leroy wishes her upstairs neighbor a pleasant day as he
steps onto the street.  She and Gabriel have had precious little contact for two
people who have lived in the same building for over twenty years, but their
respect of one another's privacy makes them all the better neighbors.  The
streets of Paris are busy at this hour of the morning.
* Gabriel walks towards the construction site at a steady and relaxed pace.
Despite all the rushing about him, he's not rushing things one bit.
* A horse-drawn public carriage, called an "omnibus" by the Parisians, clatters
up one street and down another as Gabriel strolls through the city.  There have
been more of those things around, lately.  There have been more of everything in
recent years, in Paris.  On his way to the western side of town, Gabriel passes
several shops, a few dingy blocks surrounding a small factory, and a strange and
eerily empty plaza called an "arcade."
* The arcade once housed shops and eateries of all kinds; its designers
apparently hoped to lure men and women, especially women, to this central
location so that they could spend the maximum amount of money in the minimum
amount of time and distance.  However, Gabriel noticed over the months since its
creation, what it really did was attract buskers and pickpockets with the same
ideas.
* Gabriel mostly avoids the Arcade area, as most people probably do by now. He
glanced at the shops, generally ignored the factory, and his response to the
arcade has already been stated.
* Now this arcade, and a few others like it scattered around the city, are
meeting places for gangs and havens for society's untouchables more often than
not.  Their once-elegant arches and lattices are now dark with mold and grim,
and their many alleys seem ominously unlit at any hour.  Fortunately, Gabriel's
path takes carries him around the Montparnasse Arcade as he trades speed for
peace of thought.
* Gabriel has been thinking all the while, though. In particular, what his
mentor's been up to recently.
* After more than half an hour of walking, Gabriel finds himself at the edge of
a large, open park.  The factories in which components of the Statue of Liberty
lie just over a block to the northwest.
* In the distant northwestern corner of the park, Gabriel spies a familiar
figure--rather, of all the people in the park, his eyes are drawn toward the
only woman wearing dark browns and grays and she paces slowly among an
earthbound flock of docile pigeons.
* Gabriel walks slowly to her, trying his best not to disrupt the pengu- err,
pigeons as he goes to meet her.
* The pigeons ruffle their feathers and hop away from Gabriel as he draws near,
causing his trek through the thickest concentration of birds to appear rather
like a steamship plowing through a speckled gray ocean.  The woman looks up at
Gabriel as he approaches, and offers him a brief, warm smile.  "Hello, cabbage. 
How has city life been treating you?"
* Gabriel returns the smile in kind. "Just as well as always. Good to see you
again."
<Gabriel> How has life treated you?
* The woman is tall, dark brown of hair and eye save for a corona of light
hazel--almost gold, really--around her pupils.  Her high cheekbones and slender
jaw combine to make her beautiful, in a vaguely fragile and alien way.  "Well
enough, considering."
* Her smile fades as she looks around the park for a moment.  After she's
satisfied herself that only the pigeons keep them company, she continues. 
"Still spend your days painting pictures, Gabriel?"
* Gabriel nods. "It's an art I never tire of. Endless ways to express yourself
in a few brush strokes."
<Gabriel> What better place to take up the craft than in Paris?
* Angela nods.  "What better place, indeed?  That is, as it happens, why I asked
you to meet me today.  Paris may not be the best place to continue your little
hobby."
* Gabriel raises an eyebrow. "How so? Why would such a place be improper to
continue my craft?"
* The woman begins pacing again, indicating with a subtle motion of her head
that Gabriel should follow her.  "I have seen and heard a few things that you
might have missed while applying your imagination to canvas," she says, though
without any hostility.  Angela had always approved of her pupil's hobby, more or
less.  "I'm afraid there will be some dark times ahead for this city, cabbage. 
Very dark times."
* Gabriel walks alongside her, observing the area around them. "Dark times, dark
times... Of course it will undergo dark times. I know you rarely speak in
riddles, Angel, so something must have you troubled. What's on your mind?"
* The tall woman sighs and nods her head toward the extreme northern end of the
park.  "That's where they're going to build the monument.  The same man who
built the Statue of Liberty for the Americans will be building a tower right
there, very soon."
* Gabriel hmmmms. "You mean for the World Fair? Why would they construct a tower
and not something more practical?"
* Angela looks back at Gabriel with a shrug.  "Why paint a picture instead of
feeding the sick and crippled, or building a bridge?  Art takes many forms and
has many benefits that are not so easy to identify, cabbage.  You should know
that."
* She continues.  "Even so, the construction of the tower is only one
possibility for the future of Paris.  Another is that a group of virtual
unknowns will rise up and take from this city everything that they can grasp. 
If they are allowed to succeed, I'm afraid that the only new monument this city
will construct will be a new guillotine."
* Gabriel frowns at that. "You've never heard of them, Angel? That's
uncomfortable to believe, at best... If it does come to that, I have my choice
to fight or flee, though."
* Angela nods in agreement.  "True enough.  I for one have matters to attend
elsewhere, so I won't be around Paris for very long.  If you choose to fight,
well..."  She sweeps her arm outward, back toward the part of the city from
which Gabriel had come.  "I know a man who seems to have taken a very personal
interest in keeping the peace in this city.  Perhaps you might seek him out."
* Gabriel smiles softly. "Is there anything else that I should know about him
before meeting him?"
* The woman matches Gabriel's smile.  "He's rumored to be a mind-reader, but
he's known to be a military man.  During his career he lost his left arm.  He's
a bit eccentric, but he has enough money to make his little habits more
endearing than annoying to the city's elite.  His name is Captain Hercule
Avignon."
* Gabriel nods and looks back at his mentor. "I think I'd like to get to know
him regardless. Anyone who can annoy and endear themselves to the elite can't be
all bad." He glances around Paris. "But I think I will remain here and help.
This city is too proud to fall easily, and I have taken so much that it would
only be fitting if I returned the favor to it."
<Gabriel> When are you departing?
* She sniffs the air as if testing it for some familiar scent.  "Oh, soon. 
Within a week I'll be gone, I suspect."  Already the woman's voice sounds a bit
distant.
* Gabriel grins. "You've never been one to stay in one place."
<Gabriel> Just don't get wanderlust get the best of you.
* Angela smiles with a bit more warmth.  "True enough.  I've been around long
enough to keep myself out of trouble.  Too much trouble, anyway.  You'll need to
keep your head as well, Gabriel.  I may have a few favors to ask of you while
I'm away, so keep sharp.  I have a feeling you're going to be very busy for a
while."
<Gabriel> My head's still on my shoulders.  And if you need something of me,
don't hesitate to ask.  The more time I have, the better it'll be done.
<Gabriel> As for being busy, only the stars can tell.
* The woman only nods at that.  "They always do.  Well, cabbage, I need to make
a few last preparations for my journey.  I'll be in touch."  She waits only long
enough for Gabriel to nod his farewell before walking calmly through unruffled
pigeons toward the northern end of the park.
* Gabriel nods and wanders around the pigeons. "Farewell then."
* Gabriel starts walking semi-aimlessly towards his flat.