GS, with myself at the helm, have hauled more cargo through the years than most alive have ever seen with their one, two, sometimes three, eyes. Foam containers pushed into the cargo hold like a suppository into a titan. A Möbius cube one time, I got a picture of it in my room. Live animals, dead ones, plants that looked like animals; even had one client lie on the contract and try to embroil us in a slavery ring.
GS has facilitated rescues, captures, manhunts, political security, espionage, intelligence gathering, and a maze run once that had us breathing ammonia and riding slym-tams. Our facilitating has put us in so much danger, I’ve forgotten what the definition of the word is supposed to be. Christ on a cross; Down Clowns, Rack Stompers, Divinities, even Ice have been murder mad at us a time or two before.
We’ve had to wrestle with politicians, dine with psychopaths, rub shoulders with megalomaniac despot dictators, and swindle clergy.
GS, my crew and I, have rumbled down some hard fought miles over the years. As mentioned, we’ve seen and done enough to fill a dozen bookshelves. So much so, one wouldn’t be amiss thinking if something presents itself, I or someone on my team immediately has somewhat of a handle on it. But this…Well, this is what’s called a conundrum.