Randall Dee awoke before dawn. Eleven LED night-lights brightened their home base edging the Atlantic Sea. Louise Dee didn’t like the dark. An incoming tide masked subsonic and ethereal frequencies heralding the inbound Sea Sprites: migrant tribes from another galaxy needing a rest. They delicately entered Skyhaven’s vacated seasonal establishments.
Along Ocean Drive and Greenbridge Street the Intra-Dimensionals packed the emptied motels hotels and eateries. Smaller cliques insinuated the crumbling yet inviting tiny cottages erected on alphabetically named connecting lanes. Sea Sprites were a respectful bunch. The entire cosmos was their home, even though they had managed to become lost inside it. They did no harm. They were not Demons.
Soon it would again be tourist time for the New Englanders. The Sprites would head South to Louisiana which is 50% water and the temperature steaming. The Sprites originated from a Super-Nova Star; that they knew. Less corporeal than Earth-People, they enjoyed the heat. Besides, the Evangelists the Cajuns the Vodun were very laid-back and cordial.
Louise fed Randall Dee and herself. Packed a small lunch and bottled water. Thursday Morning 0400 on their way to Michael’s Laboratory and Prototyping Shop next to the highway of Giant Trucks and Hot-Rodders collected by Police Pursuit Hemi Chargers.
He dressed. Gleaming Raven. Magnum Duty Boots, BDUs polyester black blue stripe, shirt dual pockets. A badge, shield; of lovely exotic metal fabricated by Michael. Black bomber jacket, American Flag and Insignia. Luxuriant warm gloves Kevlar. Blaze Orange knit cap for visibility. Big Maglite; modded specially for huge dark nights and creatures.
She dressed. It didn’t take fancy to make Louise Dee look good. She always looked good.
Randall Dee would chat with the local Police Force who were friendly and knew him. They assumed he was from a local agency. The complex, one-quarter mile walkabout housed a Medical Services, Auto Parts Place, one vacant unit, and Michael’s Lab. A shining beacon of light with clean windows revealing tidy Electronic Gear and mysterious Test Equipment.
A small staff of Synthetics: night shift. They accurately recorded data, which was the foundation for mystical projects occurring at Level Zero. The place was presumably built on slab construction; being next to the ocean with a high water table. Nobody was aware of Level Zero except the two Dees and Michael Matheson.