"So," Amber's eldest son says, without preamble, "Lilly is capable of fighting a well-trained opponent, certainly any she should face here. None of us, of course, is unbeatable. A large enough force could take any of us.
"Martin, I offer you command of my castle to hold while I am away. This will give you a strong base, well staffed to defend yourself and Folly and your child in this moment. I will be gone less than two tendays."
Martin nods once, definitively.
"Lilly, we have discussed the scouting mission. The castellan can provide you with what maps we have, a boat if you need it, and supplies. Try to be back or send word back before I return. Do you have any trumps?"
"Very few," Lilly answers. "But it might be enough to get me out of a bad situation."
"Brennan, Fletcher, if you wish to aid Martin or Lilly, I would approve of your choice. If you have other obligations, you may, of course, continue with your tasks. Your help, Fletcher, in testing Lilly has be useful already."
Lilly nods. "Yes, thank you for that. I've been a lay about for far too long and truly needed a chance to stretch my muscles."
"My choice is to remain here and help Lilly, if she'll have it," Brennan says. "I also have a few Trumps, but not many-- none of anyone here."
"I've been working toward some trumps of myself," Folly says. "None of them are quite done, but I think I have at least one sketch that will work, if it's held up through our travels. If you need to get a message to Benedict -- or need us to send back-up -- we can coordinate that from here." As she speaks, Folly pulls a trump case and sketchbook from a roomy pocket of her voluminous dress and begins rifling through sketches.
Fletcher shrugs. "How much help are Martin and Folly likely need to need defending the castle? I'd imagine you want more of our force deployed in the field where we might be able to influence probability against the oncoming forces."
Benedict shrugs. "It is a strong castle, well stocked with supplies and defenders. It's possible that if the castle is besieged, scouts to determine the nature of the enemy will be more useful than additional field commanders. And it may be that nothing will happen at all."
He looks at Fletcher and doesn't quite point with his missing arm. "The goal here is not to engage in individual heroics, and I have reasons to want to involve the allies I hope to bring back into the fight as a way to cement the alliance. If the castle and those inside it are safe, it may not be necessary to lift the siege immediately. Unless the oncoming forces are supernatural in nature, I expect the four of you are able to resolve any problems they present."
Lilly nods. "Are there any real indications that we might be dealing with something supernatural? Or is that what you are hoping a scouting mission might determine?"
Brennan looks up, primarily at Benedict, waiting to hear what he has to say.
Benedict shakes his head at Lilly's question. "No signs, just coincidental timing."
Fletcher is not inclined to argue with Benedict's plan. "If you don't expect all three of us to be needed out there, I'm fine staying here in reserve if Lilly and Brennan as anxious for field work. Martin and Folly may not need much help running the defenses, but I'll be here just in case."
Folly gives a small nod of thanks for his offer, but waits for Benedict to make the final ruling on personnel deployment. She seems to have located the sketch she was looking for, which she now offers, face-down, to Brennan.
Brennan nods a thank you to Folly, as he takes the card, takes a quick glance at it, and places it in his pack of Trumps. They'll probably talk later.
"Well then. Lilly and Brennan, together or severally, to scout and Fletcher and Martin to keep the castle -- I shall leave the details to you. Are there any questions?"
Brennan waits a beat, then another beat during which he glances around the room for mirrors. [Assuming Benedict doesn't have a big ol' mirror in his strategy room....] "It depends on your definition of supernatural," he says, after he figures out that Benedict isn't going to say any more.
"Most of you have heard a version of this, but Lilly hasn't: It is plausible that Moire or an agent is here. The chain of reasoning goes like this," Brennan continues. "Moire has knowledge of Shadow, but not the same command of it that we have. She has access to Sorcery, and therefore some degree of mobility, but also has the Faiella-Bionin. She used it to get from Rebma to Paris. We believe strongly she has one of the tokens to bypass the guards on the road between Rebma and Avalon.
"So what would that get her?" Brennan asks. It's a rhetorical question, because he answers it: "Access to a milieu filled with well-trained, veteran war-bands, who are by the nature of this place aggressive and disposed to attack along any line presented. With access to the Faiella-Bionin, she has the ability to move not just herself, but a substantial war-band back to Rebma... which is as legendary here as Avalon is there and ostensibly filled with plunder."
Brennan lets that that thought rest for a beat, then closes: "It's plausible, at least. In her position, it is a thing I'd consider."
Benedict nods. "The most concerning news about the forced arrayed against us would be that they were led by a relative, such as Moire or Dara. The second most would be that they were working for or in concert with a relative."
Folly nods. "Given what you said about their suddenly developing unexpected new weapons and techniques, my first guess would have been Huon, if he weren't supposed to be off surrendering himself somewhere else. Although I suppose it's possible some of that force he gathered across Shadow has broken off and crossed paths or joined forces with your enemies here."
"Not through the Queen's Gift. Even if they found the passage, and made it past the Tritons, we'd have seen signs of movement on that scale," Brennan says, looking at Fletcher. "I doubt Huon is involved, either-- his goal, as far as we know, was not to conquer Rebma, but to steal its blade." Stranger things have happened, though.
Benedict's eyes flick from younger to younger. "This attack does not seem to be aimed at the Tethys, so it may not be related to the Faiella-Bionin, unless there is a diversionary tactic in mind."
Folly and Martin arrange to talk with Benedict after dinner. At the agreed-upon hour, they arrive at his office.
"Thank you, uncle, for meeting with us," Folly says after the introductory pleasantries have been exchanged and they are settled in comfortably with drinks for those who want them. "We are hoping for a bit of... understanding, I suppose... before our child is born. You've been quite forthright to our generation that the descendents of Oberon should not produce offspring -- that it would be bad. Since we're now headed rather irrevocably down that path, we're hoping to understand how and why."
He looks up and gestures to chairs. "Please, be comfortable. I have several reasons. A sufficient one is that most of our kindred are dangerous and would be considered psychopathic in most cultures and our enemies are the same but are less friendly. A child is a risk to himself, his parents and, if he lives, his cousins, not to mention to the very fabric of the universe. There are enough dangers without adding more."
Martin glances at Folly; he's deliberately hard to read here, probably because of Benedict, who has known him, longer, if not as well as, Folly. He's letting her take the lead for the moment.
Folly nods. "It's that last I'm the most curious about," she says. "The fabric-of-the-universe one. If I take your meaning correctly, it's the enormous potential for harm, rather than its inevitability, that you see as too great a risk to reality, yes? Rather like the difference between the way a gun is dangerous and the way a pile of radioactive nuclear waste is dangerous? Or perhaps between the way a pile of radioactive nuclear waste is dangerous and the way a psychopathic killer is dangerous." She carefully does not glance at her husband at that last, lest she give the wrong impression.
Benedict looks directly at Folly, leaving Martin to deal with his own thoughts on the matter by himself.
"Each of us warps reality a bit, when we are in shadow. In a pattern place, the fabric of reality is strong, but we are not temperamentally suited to live in close proximity to each other. It's possible for an inexperienced shadow traveller to get to a place he cannot get away from, or even a series of places. Staying in one place for a long time we change it, without meaning to. Eric's hell-shadow became Corwin's Enlightenment and Flora's modern shadow. Is that damage? It's possible that the shadow cannot sustain such a rate of change and will fragment, leaving the kind of tatters that only an advanced initiate can fix, and that by cauterizing the wound.
"But I was speaking of the statistical likelihood that children of our family will become targets and may become predators. The strength of character required to be one of us is such that those who are not broken by the stress are a danger to others."
He leans back. "I am not the metaphysical expert that Bleys or Fiona is, so they may be able to tell you more about the metaphysical implications. Father explained it to me as I explained it to you, but he was not as kind. It is wrong and dangerous and often ends badly. And the risk and dangers are amplified when both parents are of our line.
"And I am sure you believe that you will be different. Apparently almost all of my siblings agreed with you at some point."
He lets the silence after his last reply hang for as long as Martin and Folly do.
"As, apparently, did your father," Folly says when it becomes clear Benedict has nothing more to add immediately. "I'm curious whether he shared with you the particular mental calculus that led him to have so many children when he believed it to be a bad idea. Did he feel he needed at least some minimum number to maintain Order against Chaos? Did he believe he could protect you all -- or perhaps more to the point, control you all? Or something else?"
She does not immediately ask about Benedict's own decisions regarding children -- and in particular, of seeming to have left himself out of the group who had made such a decision -- but she's listening carefully for clues, spoken and unspoken.
"There are-- were other factors at play with my father and other rules applied to him, as they do now to Random. Also recall it generally took my father about a century to forget that he hated having children underfoot."
Benedict does not betray any clues, except that he seems to have noticed that Folly is looking for them. He may have let that be noticed intentionally.
Martin is stonefacing this uncomfortable subject out.
Folly can't quite suppress a smirk at Benedict's last point; but, perhaps sensing Martin's discomfort, she shifts the subject a bit: "Obviously, we hope that our daughter will grow up with the strength of character, the knowledge, and the wisdom to keep from doing undue harm. I know you've kept yourself a bit apart from Amber for a while now, but you did see some of your father's parenting choices, and the consequences of those choices -- as well as some of the choices and consequences of your own generation. And I know you had a hand in Martin's early training." She lays a hand on Martin's in a gesture of comfort mixed with solidarity. "In your analysis, are there strategies that seem to help tip the balance away from that tendency toward predatory harm?"
Benedict sits straight in his chair. "If I knew how to tell that a child would grow up to threaten all of existence, I would be a notorious infanticide. Statistically, one of the more effective strategies is to allow the child to grow up apart from his or her heritage, and parents. Foster her with people you trust."
Martin definitely has an opinion about this, but is choosing not to express it at this time.
Folly stifles an immediate reaction or two of her own; instead she nods slowly and says, "Yes, I was beginning to come to a similar conclusion myself. I'm not sure that will be really practicable for us, but it is worth thinking about -- at the very least to consider the reasons that has turned out to be the case."
She looks at Martin to see if he has anything to add or ask on this topic.
"I'd be interested in hearing, at some later date, your thoughts on which of my cousins might be best for fostering. But that's not a conversation for this evening, I think." Martin's expression is still a little tight to Folly's eyes.
Benedict nods. "I had not considered it. Fostering is typically an exchange of children, and typically requires established households in which to foster the child. I will have an answer for you at that later date."
"Thank you, Uncle, we appreciate your insights." Folly pauses, then continues in a tone that signals a shift of topic, "And on that note, as a semi-official advisor to the king in Xanadu I'm curious if you have any advice on that front. Advice... or hopes for what these new realms can or should be."
Benedict shakes his head. "I have seen periods of stability and instability in the Pattern realms. To say 'be prepared for anything' is to say 'be prepared for nothing', so I will not. If he needs advice, I can only say that Xanadu is his shadow, and bears the marks of him. The best way for him to understand it is to understand himself."
"Good advice," Folly says. "I will do my best to see that he keeps it in mind---"
She sucks in a sharp breath, as if at a sudden pain, and squeezes Martin's hand. When she is able to speak again -- several moments later -- she continues, a bit breathlessly, "---and I was going to ask if there was anything I could do for you here while you're away, but I'm afraid any grand plans may soon be superseded by 'have baby'." Nevertheless, she looks at Martin to see if he has anything else for Benedict.
Martin looks vaguely alarmed at Folly's expression and the squeeze. His attention is on her and not at all on Benedict.
"I'm okay," she says hastily when she sees his look. "But I think those 'cramps' I've been complaining about for the last couple of days just turned into contractions." She looks at Benedict. "Do you... er... maybe have a midwife we could borrow?"
After Brennan's consultation with Benedict, he finds himself a quiet spot not too far away-- no sense going far when there will be a planning session in the not too distant future-- and draws out Llewella's Trump to concentrate on it.
[Assuming she answers with a variation on the traditional question]
"It's Brennan, Aunt Llewella, arrived safely in at the other end of the Faeilla-Bionin. With some news. Is Queen Celina available?"
Llewella replies. "She is in the palace, but I am not with her. I can send a page to see if she is available if you wish, or I can send your news to her." She pauses and floats in place for a moment. "I was unaware that the Faeilla-Bionin had an end."
"The other end of a leg that starts here," Brennan clarifies, then pauses to consider the logistics.
"There is much I would say to her," Brennan says, "and so I think it is best if I am able to speak with her. But I am conscious of your time spent in helping us communicate, and there are reasons not to stray too far, too long. Do you know if my brother is still in Rebma?"
She nods. "He was as recently as yestreen. We supped together. I suspect that Celina will send him on a fool's errand soon."
"I see," Brennan says. What he mostly sees is that Llewella and Celina are disagreeing on policy and priorities, but without knowing the root of the disagreement, he can't-- and doesn't bother to-- form much of an opinion beyond that.
"I've prepared letters for both Queen Celina and my brother; perhaps it is possible that his will reach him before he departs." Brennan passes to her two oilskin leather packets, sealed with wax and impressed with his signet. Inside each are pages of vellum, inscribed with water resistant ink, rolled, and again sealed with wax and his impression. Surely they will be taken to the airtight room, but even if not they will hopefully survive a short exposure. "Failing that, I am still grateful for your help-- do you know where he goes?"
Llewella nods, and her hair moves through the water in complex patterns only possible beneath the waves. "Unless I am mistaken, he goes to disturb my mother's grave, in hopes of turning up a message from the past to the future."
Brennan keeps his expression carefully neutral. "A message?" he asks. "I don't understand. If there were such a message, then Moire would have found it and shared it, in which case you would know about it. Or found it and kept it secret, likely including hiding it or removing it. Or it would have to have existed all these years unknown and unnoticed."
Llewella nods, apparently sharing Brennan's analysis. "I am merely grateful that she has not attempted to bring in Vere to raise my mother's shade. That would not go well."
Brennan's expression never wavers. "No. No it would not," he says. "But then, it would never happen, anyway." Brennan doesn't explain why, and likely doesn't need to. "In any event, I hope this message will reach my brother before his departure."
He frowns briefly in thought. "It would be too much to hope that Brita and Conner are returned with Huon in tow, yes?" It is possible-- just barely possible-- that Brennan revised some other word to 'tow' at the very last moment.
Llewella shakes her head, briefly. "The Queen went to the dry rooms to trump them. Perhaps they will come back via that route shortly."
Some time after [the debriefing with Benedict] Fletcher arrives for a private appointment with his Father. To minimize disruptions of Benedict's no-doubt busy schedule Fletcher knocks and enters.
He remains standing and faces Benedict. "I had hoped to find a less hectic state of affairs for my visit, but since I'm here I hope you can indulge my curiosity. I have been pondering problem of the Dragon and wound up considering the structure of fortifications around the Pattern. Of late I have visited Xanadu, Paris, and Rebma. Naturally, I am curious about Avalon, its nature, and how you came to rule it."
Benedict nods. "Much has changed since last we spoke. I have long let my knowledge of the nature of our Cities of Power stay my knowledge, but since Random and Corwin have acted, it has been known that Cities could be created.
He looks Fletcher up and down. "Tell me some things, so I may know where to start. What do you know of the commonalities between Xanadu, Paris, and Rebma?"
Fletcher goes into summary-report mode, expecting that will likely be Benedict's preference. "I know that they are arrayed around, possibly in defense of, a more central focus of Order. I have reason to believe that Dworkin, Oberon, Corwin, and Random have each created a Pattern. I do not know if a familiar link is required to do so. The emanations of each of the Patterns I observed have been consistent and virtually indistinguishable. I know that they are linked by a line of force we sometimes call the Faella-Bionin. I believe that shifts in the Faella-Bionin may influence the matrix of shadows, exerting forces that may recently have given the Dragon more liberty. I have observed that each Pattern seems to naturally build a city up around itself. I do not know who created this Pattern, the Rebman Pattern, or the one in Tir-na Nog'th. How long have you had this one?"
Benedict looks over his son. "Some questions are by their nature unanswerable. Even the normal measurements of our kind have to do with events in the lives of near-immortal beings. But for this, what measurement of time would mean anything? In a way, it is as old as I am, because it is me. In a way it is much older than I am. How old is Carol's Paris? And yet it has a thousand years of catacombs and history in it.
"Sicut erat in principio, et nunc, et semper, et in saecula saeculorum", he recites. "It's very literal, but so few of us know. It is what you might imagine I would have for a pattern, which is a bastion of defense that provides protection that our enemies do not anticipate.
"This, of course, necessitated secrecy. Even from family." He does not seem at all apologetic.
Fletcher grins. "Some things we can only measure on a relative scale. I have encountered situations in which a stimulus results in its own precursors. On matters of this scale, the best measures are probably only only those involving the other Patterns. I believe that solutions to some of our current challenges lie in understanding the structure promulgated by Order. What inspired you to build this place? I understand Random came up with his plan after becoming King, and that Corwin might have been desperate. Is Avalon as old as Rebma?"
"One could say that our most recently vanquished challenges arose due to an understanding of the structure promulgated by Order. Avalon is younger, but predates any of your generation." Benedict frowns. "Mostly. And desperation and foresight are amongst the two most likely causes that inspire someone to create a defensive fortification. Sometimes hindsight, as well."
Fletcher both nods in understanding and shrugs at his father's oblique answers. "I was wondering if the Inspiration in this case took a palpable form. I had not previously considered those times to be desperate," Fletcher decides not to mention Osric and Finndo at this point. "I do know of some problems that existed during that period, like the Dragon and the Moonriders. That must have been before the big fight with the Moonriders. Was Avalon party to the fight with the Moonriders then? I have heard only the vaguest descriptions of that war."
Benedict shakes his head. "No, Avalon was a consequence of that fight. It is a difficult war to describe, in part because it is difficult to arrange a chronological history of a war that involves people who fight across time-streams."
He stands and moves towards the window, leaning back against it. It's hard not to notice that he still doesn't seem to have adjusted to having only one arm. "I intend to write a definitive history of that war, once I am sure it is over. Moonriders are in interesting opponent. You can often tell where they will be at war, by finding soldiers displaced in time. Their tactics are interesting, but I once knew a man who fought one in a duel and was sent back a mere two decades in time. A fraction of a second afterwards, the moonrider, standing on the now-empty field, was shot in the eye by a high-powered rifle. His assassin had had twenty years to study the field and line up the shot.
"Oberon defeated them by anticipating them, and by the family's favorite technique of granting favors so that he had the right allies to call upon later. It worked well for us for many centuries."
Fletcher shudders, thinking of all the work he's done for Oberon in the last few hundred years. "So our problem is that we haven't been doing enough favors to keep up with our needs?" he asks in obvious jest. "I would very much like to hear about the engagement with the moonriders. I myself was employed elsewhere at the time. I imagine granddad explained that at the time. However, my current endeavor is a bit more pressing. While I am here to aid in the defense of Avalon I would ask your permission to study and perhaps even navigate the Pattern here."
"I see," replies Benedict, his face betraying no emotion. "The Kings of Avalon and Amber have traditionally required an oath of Fealty for such permission. I know you have given yours for such, or more precisely renewed yours. Do you intend to offer an oath to protect and serve Avalon in exchange for such permission and the title that need must go with such an oath?"
Fletcher maintains eye contact. "Such was the tradition in Amber. It may interest you to know that it is not necessarily the precedent that has been set elsewhere. You have my oath. If I were also to swear to defend the Pattern which would you expect to take precedence?" Benedict may recall that Fletcher is, if anything, too serious about oaths and the proliferation thereof. "Defense of the Pattern is intrinsic to our purpose. I would swear to defend it." Fletcher's tone suggests that he already considers such duties his responsibility.
Benedict matches his eye contact. "It is an inherent duty and I do not think you need the public reinforcement that others might. What most of your modern peers don't consider, especially those who have executed it without permission, is that feudal obligation goes both ways, and by not swearing an oath, they do not afford themselves the protection of their lord, but incur the obligation nonetheless.
"In addition, there is an interaction between the pattern and the walker that is obvious to the master of the pattern.
"It is not just the difficulty of the task that should prevent an initiate from walking a pattern in other than dire circumstance. It is sound caution about what it may reveal to others."
Fletcher considers for a moment Benedict's words now and the words used by the Benedict in his vision as he walked the Pattern beneath Paris. "The thought had crossed my mind. Nonetheless, personal experience of all, or as many as feasible, Patterns remains the highest-potential option for using my skills to aid against the various threats our family discussed in Paris. And beyond family commitments, it may of use in bolstering the larger cause of Order. I would swear the oath and proceed, though I would also value your further advice on my proposed course of action."
Benedict purses his lips, and nods. "You have my advice already, I will add my thoughts. To rephrase my concern: for patterns that appear masterless, ask yourself to whom you are incurring an obligation. I have used patterns in Amber and Tir nA n'Ogth, but I am more fixed than you are. Putting yourself in the sights of the Queen of Air and Darkness, who has appeared again, seems foolish.
"There is nothing I know of to be gained by this exercise that cannot be gained by meditating on the pattern in your blood for an hour or so. Other than the city in the sky, I can see little damage it can do, except that walking the pattern is difficult and risky.
"I recommend the old ways. A vigil in the castle chapel to clear and sharpen your mind, followed by a day of enforced rest and gathering strength. Your cousins can fulfill the role of the King, which is to assure that the candidate is of sound mind and body and is not a risk for killing himself. Then walk alone, and leave the castle when you are finished. There is an advantage to taking yourself away from Avalon to allow the lessons of the patternwalk to set.
Fletcher nods. "Thank you. I should wait until my current responsibility to assist Martin and Folly is completed then. I suspect they will not need any assistance but they will have it nonetheless. In terms of the nature and history of masterless Patterns.... I had hypothesized that the duration of a Pattern might be linked to the life of its King, leaving the possibility that the continued presence of Patterns in both Rebma and Ti na Nog'th might indicate the continued existence of both creators, whereas in Amber.... well, have you any data that can be used to evaluate that hypothesis?"
Benedict frowns. "The inverse it clearly the case, and father's death resulted in the sundering of his Pattern. However, he did die while repairing the Pattern, so it is unclear how unique those circumstances were. I would assume that any pattern that was working had an owner. We know the Queen of Air and Darkness has been seen by several of your cousins. If you see her, by the way, do not engage her. She is as dangerous as my Father and may hold grudges for things that happened before you were born."
"Understood. On that topic.... who is the corresponding person from Rebma I should be avoiding?"
"On that matter, Father was quite clear. Moins is dead, but something sustains her realm. No one who could answer that has done so."
Fletcher decides to press his luck by asking another question. "I noticed that the Faella Bionin is weak between the newer Patterns. I figured travel along it using the Pattern would stimulate it. How long does such formation usually take?"
Benedict shrugs. "On the scale by which the lives of patterns are measured? No time at all. I also would not necessarily categorize it as weak. It may merely have been difficult to discover."
Fletcher asks, "I had theorized that the emanations of the Pattern and the Faella Bionin exerted an influence that acted as a barrier against dis-Order. If such is true, it might follow that a time such a now, in which Patterns are young, is a time of vulnerability. Are you saying that I'm looking at the wrong vulnerability?"
Benedict considers the question. "It's hard to say, since Patterns are creations of Order. The generally do not change over time. A Pattern was not, and then it was and always has been. The vulnerable period for a Pattern is while it is being drawn. Once it exists, it protects itself. It is a mountain we find and climb."
Fletcher tries to sound apologetic in raising a point of disagreement. "Recent history has demonstrated at least one other vulnerability as well. How does the fate of Amber fit into that model?"
Beneict waves the concern away. "Yes. Consider it an internal vulnerability. An immune system disorder, attacking its own organs, if you will. Not what I was speaking of, and always a concern, now that it has been discovered. Some shadows discover weapons of global destruction and never use them, and some are destroyed. It is unclear which is our fate, in the long term, now that such a weapon has been discovered."
He pauses. "Perhaps Dworkin will come up with a way to prevent such attacks in the future."
Fletcher looks a bit pained on that point, but doesn't care to suggest that some alternatives he can imagine may not be pleasant. Instead he simply states, "Physical security has always been a key responsibility of the inscribers." After a momentary pause he pursues another topic. "In addition to the Dragon, which I theorized might be acting upon the changing geometry of Order, the Klybesians have also chosen now to act. Once my travels along the Faella Bionin are wrapped up I may attempt to leverage my experience with them to investigate, before others act more directly. In my long absence from Amber did Granddad assign anyone else to deal with them?"
He frowns. "They lost their place in Amber when the King disestablished the monasteries. Father considered the remnants that existed on the fringes of the Golden Circle to be incompetent. They never rose to the level where he would decide they were a problem to the Crown.
"Or they would have been dealt with." He looks across the desk. "I think they profited from Father's death, but I also infer that they are more of a threat than they used to be. Generally when that is the case, one should be looking to see if there is a backing party.
"If you come across evidence about them, by all means follow the trail. It may lead to our real enemies."
Fletcher nods. "And this current threat to Avalon? Could it be backed by external parties?"
Benedict nods once. "It could. Many things could be happening, of course. I trust Lilly and Brennan will learn of it, if it is so."
Fletcher replies. "We'll I guess we'll see then. I'll check the situation here and stand by in case Martin needs my assistance."
"Thank you, I appreciate that," his father replies.
Last modified: 16 January 2013