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8:50 AM, bags under eyes, ruffled hair. Charlotte was not in a good mood. Her midnight dream hadn't helped her sleep any easier either. One was not amused when one was lacking in sleep. Although the thought of her dead father whom she'd never met was depressing, the defiance of her mother and Drawl was one of the reasons Charlotte had taken a career in criminal phycology in the first place. She wanted to know why people did what they did; to get a grasp of why her father had shown such a strong emotionally attachment to an asteroid. Charlotte had made sure that she was the one dealing with the most mentally challenged witnesses, the most insane heroes of a forgotten time. She had become transfixed with finding someone, anyone who displayed the same characteristics, the same anger, extreme and uncontrollable distress. The same ruthlessness brought on seemingly by nothing.

Finally she had found what she had been looking for, and he was just walking through the door. "Good morning", she called as cheerfully as she could muster. "Please come and sit down so we can continue where we left off." He nodded slowly and dragged his body over to the large chairs. He sat and sank his body to the contours of the padded velvet, obviously sleepless night all round. The room was as it had always been; its comfort was in its familiarity.

"What else can I tell you? You've asked about the fires, both of them, how they make me feel. How much of my life revolves around what they did to me and my family." He looked up, his eyes were empty. Soulless. Pupils wide and greyed out, his breathing heavy, raspy and slow. He was done, and they both knew it. Charlotte was perplexed, an epiphany hit her. She could see now that through all his past outbursts, his anger, fear, the snarling and growling. He was simply a wolf whose life was one of displacement and of isolation from the rest of the world. He was like a ghost, no other person, or God or other sentient being could receive anything back from him. He drew in energy and atmosphere and crushed it to dust. He was a black hole and he had accepted it. Any life he had had before that office, anything or anybody he had mentioned was just there. In his memories, without arousal, neutral, bland. There was no emotion from the aspects of his life.

Charlotte Hudson knew the same, some days she felt like she had never lived a day in her life, she had simply coasted through it, like a spectator. Her whole being felt like small ripples left in an ocean of consciousness, soon to be overtaken as the water became still again. Her wake in this world seemed invisible to anyone who looked for it. But she did not feel completely detached, Charlotte only had to reconnect with the people and the environment around and she was back. Her life was back in her hands. He did not appear to have the ability to do so. Yet she could feel him. There was some connection between them. Not just that Charlotte could relate to the loss of his family or the sadness he felt, but she could sense him better than she could her father, like she knew him as well as herself. He could feel it too, the Vietnamese wolf had noticed as soon as he had entered her presence, the moment he had started to speak to Charlotte. She could communicate to him on a level no one could. He felt as if he had been resurrected, as if the blood had started to pump round his body again. Releasing oxygen and energy into his system. Although his fur was still matted and his postured slumped and defeated, he was different. His perception of the world had changed. Re opening his mind, no longer was he a black hole. Instead? Supernova.

Yet he hadn't let her know, he couldn't, it wasn't time. The whispers would tell him when to take his turn, when to change the rules. He sat silently as she spoke to him. "I asked for our time together to be extended because I felt there were some remarks that you could", she paused, "demystify for me." Charlotte leaned in close, "I want you to tell it to me straight, and I want the truth. The whole truth. Otherwise I can't help you." Did Miss Hudson know already? Have I been that obvious? I thought that she hadn't noticed, I guess I under estimated her. He thought to himself. He replied slyly, "You want to go back to the first fire, the goings on afterwards. You want to know what I had with me." Charlotte tipped her head and gave him a quizzical look. Her ears went lob-sided as she tilted her crown; her highlight fell across her forehead. Then she beamed, it was a smile of joy and achievement, she had him. Or so she thought.

"Funny you should mention it; I was going to inquire about exactly that. Not as broken as you first appeared are you?" He found himself smiling back, "Maybe not, I was wrong to see you like the others, only scratching the surface for information without really looking at was in plain sight in front of you. You truly see what's in my mind don't you?" Putting his paw on his chin he lifted one of his digitigrade legs up to rest on the other. He manipulated his bare toes and looked at Charlotte thoughtfully. She was not only observer of the cognitive process in that room on that day. He had become what he once was curious, charismatic, and youthful. "I guessed what was in your head, and it wasn't hard. You gave your act away as soon as you mentioned that you were the only survivor of that fire. Unless you felt like you were betraying a trust you never would have paused. Your lack of confidence gave you away." The light grey wolf arched her fingers, "Now you can either play games with me or you can tell me what you felt you so aggressively needed to hide during our last discussion."

He was awed, so he answered. "I was not after that fire; I was not alone for all these years. It was with me then and still is now; I think you should see it." From the rags of his shirt he revealed a dark rusty chain, its colour neatly identical to his fur's. On the end was a small fragment, only an inch square. Its surface was a swirl of deep colours, dirty red, black and dark blue. It was smooth and angular, yet matte, no reflection came off of its clean surface. A life time of wear had done nothing to it. No corrosion or discoloration or rust. They spoke together. "The last remnants of the Helix Ion!"

"Yes, I thought you might know of it."

Charlotte was absolutely stunned. The rock had been Charlotte's father's greatest and last achievement. Now it was being cradled by a Vietnamese wolf who had had it for most of his life and never told another soul; a wolf whose life had been one of ill luck and traumatic stress but was now as alive as nature itself.

"Why... how did you get that?" Her eyes watered as she guessed the answer.

"It was from a meteorite, it landed in a swamp near our village. My family were the aristocracy - well established. What could be excavated with pick axes was brought to us and this", he jangled the chain, "Was for me to hide. If you would believe such a thing, I was the most trustworthy at one point, and the most innocent looking." His brief flash of memory did not last long. His eyes darkened as he rotated the fragment with one hand. The feel of it was unique, cold yet frictionless. He was transfixed by it, almost as if part of him was locked inside. "The Americans arrived not long after. They torched the swamp as if it was a mere puddle, the forest was like a pile of twigs." He sighed uneasily; "We were swarmed by napalm on all sides. After that the soldiers came. I could hear them behind me, I had to run, and I could save or warn no one. They had come for the Helix Ion."

Charlotte was hooked by now, "They got what they wanted?"

He shook his head, "No but they got what they deserved, what I had been promised." He smiled as if it a trance, "It was a shame it rain so much that year. They ran in, a few at a time, the sound of the water hitting the canopy covered their screams. The heated swamps consumed them, along with their prize."

Charlotte squinted and leaned forward, she rubbed the bridge of her muzzle and forehead. This was big, government interests big, even 35 years later. The military would probably kill for even a scrap as small as the one in front of her. It wasn't a mystery he'd kept it a secret, this wolf certainly wasn't stupid. That was what worried her; Charlotte posed her next question, expecting not much in return.

"You know all this information yet you have no access to anything like it. You speak fluent English but yet have never been taught it. In actual fact your official record states you as dead, since January 30th 1968." She opened a briefcase and allowed the relevant documents to drop on to the coffee table. "So to sum up I want to know how and why. It is also of interest to me why you felt you had to hold on to the rock all this time."

He sighed and inhaled uneasily, his voice became wheezy again briefly, it took all his might to answer, and it troubled him." It's, well it's the voices", he said. She stared deep into his eyes and repressed a cry of frustration. He wasn't lying, he genuinely believed in what he was saying. But 'The voices' Charlotte couldn't believe it, all this work for this? A hallucinating, barmy old Vietnamese wolf, she felt liked she'd hit a brick wall face first. He second guessed her reaction, "I understand it makes me sound crazy but I do hear whispers", he raised his voice, "I am the only person that can, they speak to me personally." He winced, he was looking for acceptance. "They tell me what to do, how I should react, even how I should think, what emotions I should feel. If it wasn't for them, I would not be here, and neither would you." Charlotte sat bolt upright. "They know about you, who you are, what your father was doing. Why he had to die..." He trailed off sensing her unease. It was not just what he had said that had scared Charlotte, for she could hear a voice too.

"Charlotte, I can see you Charlotte, can you hear me?" His voice faded before coming clearer, Carlos' voice became louder, more distinct. She could feel him more than ever, she could almost see him. Charlotte had dreamed of her father, even imagined his voice before, but he was certainly no longer constrained to her imagination now. "Listen to him honey, he will explain what you wanted to know, and he has the knowledge that I did."

"Dad..." She mouthed shakily, a single tear snaked along the smooth contours of her face. It swept along her high cheek bones and dropped off her muzzle. Charlotte ground her teeth.

"How come I can only connect with him now?" She asked slowly, completely overwhelmed.

The sly Vietnamese wolf broadened his mouth, not quite a smile but not threatening. "Contact with the Helix Ion has re awoken your memory of him. It took a life time for me to make sense of the voices and longer still before I could no longer resist their influence." He looked at Charlotte and thought deeply, as if extracting data from an external source or domain. "Your father experienced the same thing, yet it only took mere days to take hold of him. That is why he lunged at your vice president."

"How can you...? How did you...?" Her speech trailed off, Charlotte could not move, she just sat and listened. Her eyes were wide and her back unnaturally straight.

"At first I thought it was a sickness, like a cancer overtaking my brain. But then I learnt that it was much more than that, once I embraced it. I doubt I would recognise my life without it. You are experiencing the same through your father's encounter. Trust me; it will become clearer the longer I talk." He smiled once again. Charlotte was mortified, this was not the wolf that she had been assigned to examine. His demeanour had changed, his dialect, his whole cognitive process was different.

But that wasn't possible.....

"But why do I hear my father, and you hear whispers", she was so confused but yet curious. Charlotte had a job to do, and sure as hell it was going to be accomplished.

"I hear separate whispers because the One was not together"; he gazed upwards with a flaccid smile to where the stars would be. "Out in deep space he was together but I only hear parts, one part to be exact. It repeats over and over, almost as if it was recorded, like a message." He added a slight edge to his tone, "You only hear one voice because you were not in contact with the One; you only hear once voice because you do not believe he exists..."

Something had possessed him, something inside the Helix Ion. "Who are you?" She begged, tears streamed down her contorted face like rivers carving through dirt.

He continued, ignoring her interruption, "Other did however." Now his smile was one of amused curiosity," I believe you know a Drawl, an Adrian Drawl, I presume? Carlos was like a beacon, and when Drawl touched him?" The possessed wolf cackled, it was not meant to sound evil - but it did. "The believers are much easier to persuade."

Charlotte couldn't stand any it more, he was playing her. "Just tell me you bastard, what are you? What is the Helix Ion?"

To me the Helix Ion is my life; to your father it was his final discovery. Without it he would likely be alive today." So many conflicting emotions, Charlotte couldn't make any sense out of what she was feeling. Rational thought had left her. All that she could do was sit and wait, this 'One' hadn't made been mistaken yet.

His smiled softened, love and compassion returned to his expression.

"I child, am the God of yours and many other worlds. I created it all from the sun to this planet to the whole of your wolven species. Please do not fret any longer." He patted her knee. "I used the element 115 as starting matter and the created the rest of the elements using fission... "

Charlotte's mind faded, her brain couldn't process what her senses were telling her.

She passed out.