James pressed the remote and a series of spotlights ignited from above, illuminating a bridge in front of them like falling dominoes. He pressed it again and Martha and Nan's chairs sprung to life, sliding sideways until they were inches from one another and then forward, following James' lead. The clicks of his shoes changed slightly as they transitioned from the marble floor to the metal bridge.

"Hawaii's a remarkable place – its resources, unique and unparalleled," James said as they progressed along the bridge. Where it led, Martha couldn't tell as the spotlights stopped short of its destination. There was something strange about the air – as if extreme heat and cold were fighting one another to hold a tenuous peace. "I've actually done some pretty nifty work converting them into usable energy." He stopped and the chairs obeyed before turning ninety degrees away from one another and out to the edge of the bridge. The chairs then began to tilt forward. "But mostly," James continued. "I just wanted a friggin' lava lake!"

The chairs tipped far enough for Martha to witness it for herself – orange, yellow, and white molten rock churning over itself in all its elemental glory, one hundred meters below the bridge. "For sheer style points, how do you beat that!" James bragged giddily.

The heat it gave off was impressive but muted until the chair tilted past an unseen threshold and the top of Martha's forehead began to singe and blister, forcing her to flinch to the side.

"Oh dear," James said and the chairs reversed course, tilting slowly back until even with the bridge once again. "Took you a little too far, didn't I? Turns out lava lakes produce a bit of heat. But how, you may ask, am I standing here as a charming and handsome genius instead of a smoldering lump of ash and carbon? A ludicrous amount of targeted air conditioning, that's how. Seriously, you should see the heat signatures in this room. It's like a Mondrian painting and you do not want to be on the wrong side of a line."

The chairs swiveled back and the agents were side by side once more. Nan's chest heaved as she failed to suppress her panic. Martha clenched her jaw, sharpened her eyes, and nodded firmly to her junior agent. We're going to get through this! Nan nodded faintly in return.

"But the lava lake, as impressive as it is, is merely the garnish next to the filet." James turned his back to them, facing the shrouded end of the bridge. "Behold!" He pressed the remote and further spotlights ignited, one by one, leading the way to the other side. They paused a moment for dramatic effect, then the final spotlight beamed down on a lone server tower – a five foot tall, black rectangle with rows of blinking red lights near its top.

Martha let out a snicker.

James wheeled dramatically, his face a caricature of manic outrage. "Excuse me?!" But he dropped the theatrics at once and said, "Okay, fine. It may be a little unimpressive, aesthetically."

He turned and walked toward the tower and the chairs followed. Once past the bridge and on to an identical black marble platform, Martha's chair turned left and Nan's right, circling the tower a quarter turn until they stopped on opposite sides. James stood next to the tower and looked upon it reverently. "But like they say, the best things come in small packages. Babies... Engagement rings... The end of human civilization... 600,000 CPUs in this sexy beast. Which is like... a lot, if you didn't know. All in one five by three by two tower. She's my life's work and the instrument of your world's imminent destruction. Of course, the trick of it all was getting you to invite us into your homes. But in the end, it was pretty straight forward. QuinnTech fed humanity its technology ten years ahead of schedule and they gobbled it up without noticing my dormant little viruses hiding in the shadows. Tonight, Mama Gout will wake up her billions of children around the world and anything with a shred of QuinnTech in it – which is, um... everything – will be toast."

After walking back toward the bridge, James spun to the agents then bowed, arms flamboyantly wide. He stood up straight then looked at Martha expectantly.

"I'd slow clap, but..." she said.

"But your hands, I know."

"You could take the handcuffs off," she played.

"I could. I could. Because a slow clap would be just perfect right now. But since you do mean to foil my plan, I'm gonna say no."

The hand and feet cuffs James had bound them in were not the standard, chained variety, but solid and hi-tech. From what Martha could surmise from the look of her feet and feel of her hands, they were held together by an enhanced magnetic clamp. At least I hope...

In addition to aiding in her suit's bulletproof design, Martha had advocated for magnetic field disruptors to be wired into their sleeve cuffs for the purpose of disabling magnetic door locks. She hadn't anticipated being handcuffed – but a magnet by any other name...

Despite her best efforts since regaining consciousness, however, she couldn't quite get her fingers to reach the switch to activate the disruptors, located on her right sleeve. There was one more option, but she needed time and the right opportunity to present itself.

"Well, slow clap understood then. I must say, Mr Quinn, this is quite impressive. You have succeeded at global disruption and mischief. But..." Bait the hook...

"But what?"

"Never mind." Cast the line...

"No, really, what?"

"It's just... You're a hacker? Not much romance to that. I mean... it would be very cutting edge... if this were 1992. I'm sorry. I know you put in a lot of work. And you should be proud... I guess."

James' mouth gaped in shock. He scoffed a few moments before finally saying. "Well I wouldn't throw stones, Miss Supergenius Golden Child, considering how easily you fell into my trap."

And he takes a bite! Don't pull too hard. Keep him on the hook... Martha dropped her head as if hurt by his barb.

"Mmm-hmm," James continued. "Great job rooting out that informant of yours. I wrote his disgruntled chatroom manifesto myself. In fact, why don't we bring Kamalei back out so he can reminisce on how expertly you converted him?" He spoke into his remote. "Kamalei, e ʻoluʻolu e hele mai."

After a moment, Martha heard a door open behind her and Kamalei walked past her chair and on toward James.

"E nānā iā lākou," James said to him as they slapped hands.

Kamalei laughed. "Kaikamahine ʻilihune."

"But our guests don't speak Hawaiian, do they," James said. "Kamalei, we were just talking about how easily you fooled the brilliant Martha Beckett."

Kamalei looked at Martha and chuckled.

The plan was coming together. "Kamalei," Martha called out. "I thought..." And then she mumbled, "I thought we were getting close."

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I thought... nothing."

Kamalei walked to her and bent to her level. "What was that?"

She was going to have to act fast - smash, slip, switch, grab - all in practically one motion. Projecting hurt, betrayal, and above all, weakness, Martha whispered, "I thought we were getting close."

"Hūpō nui," he said, then stood and turned to James. "She said she thought we were getting close!"

In a flash, Martha smashed her hands down on the back of her chair, knocking her left thumb out of its socket, slipped her hand down far enough to reach the switch to demagnetize her cuffs, before grabbing the gun from the back of Kamalei's pants.

As she dug the gun barrel into his back, she said, "No hard feelings, Kamalei. I'm sure he paid you very well and that's hard to turn down, but I will shoot you unless you do as I say. Do you understand?"

"I understand," he said, his power as drained as a pair of demagnetized handcuffs.

"Good." Squeezing the gun's handle with the uninjured fingers on her left hand, she kept it pressed to his back as she quickly unlocked her foot cuffs with her right. She stepped out of the cuffs, returned the gun to her right hand, then said. "Mr Quinn, we have to talk!"

Suddenly, the cavern went dark. Kamalei scampered away, whimpering, and Martha let him. She looked to where James had been standing but saw nothing. With only the blinking red lights of the server and the faint orange glow from the lake, it was nearly pitch black.

Martha scanned for any sign of movement. "I meant it, James. I just want to talk." Her left hand throbbed in glorious pain.

From her right, Martha heard the click of James' shoes. She turned to the sound, but he kicked the gun out of her hands before she could ready herself.

The impact spun her and she lost her bearings for a moment in the dark. Where are you? She dismissed her sense of sight and listened – the hum of the server, Nan's frightened breathing, her own heartbeat. Then a click and a clack and she dropped to sweep his leg just as he reached her, sending him to the floor. She lunged toward the sound of his body and found the remote in his vest pocket. His hand clamped down on hers and as they fought for possession, lights through the cavern flashed on and Two Princes blasted once more.

James threw back his elbow and caught Martha in the cheek. She stumbled and he stood up, remote in hand. Before he could end their game, however, she spun in the air and kicked the remote out of his hand and toward the bridge. Martha scrambled for it, but James tackled her from behind and locked her in a hold, bending her left arm behind her back and wrapping his arm around her neck.

Between the extraordinary pain in her arm and shoulder and James' body pressed against hers, she nearly forgot the fate of humanity hanging in the balance of their struggle.

"I missed you," James grunted, his breath hot on her temple.

"Aw, I... missed you too, babe."

"This was fun... But let's spend the next one... together... okay?"

"It's... a date," she grunted. His hold was air tight. She didn't think he'd go through with breaking her arm, but he might put her to sleep with his choke hold. Fortunately, in addition to the marshmallow man, the grape juice, and the ice cream cone, she knew his one weakness. With her free hand, she pinched the top of his hip bone. Ticklish, he flinched and gave her an opening to slip from his grasp.

She raced to the remote, scooped it up, and hurried to throw it into the lake. But James had recovered, and as her arm swung forward, he clipped her elbow and the remote flew up instead of out. Thankfully, she was close enough to the ledge that it appeared the remote would still make it over. As she watched it fall, James sprinted past her and leaped over the side of the bridge, grabbing the remote with one hand and a suspension wire at the underside of the bridge with the other.

Martha leaned over the side and again felt the heat, sharp upon her forehead. But James...

"Mother Hubbard, this is hot!!" he called. She could see the skin on his face bubbling with heat blisters. "Wish I had more time for last words! I love you!!" He clicked the remote and let go of the wire. "Oh, this is going to sting!!" Martha watched him fall and land, a floating silhouette against the magma. His body twitched once, then went rigid.

The music and lights shut off. She turned back to the server whose blinking lights had disappeared as well. Damnit!

Suddenly, Martha felt engulfed by heat. She raced off the bridge and tumbled to the ground in front of Nan who was standing from her chair, her handcuffs no longer operational.

"Has it happened?!" Nan shouted as she pulled a flare from her suit before igniting and dropping it next to them.

"Yeah," Martha said, getting to her feet. "Sorry about that."

"Wh-what can we do?! There must be something we can do!" Nan pleaded.

"I'm sorry. I don't think there is. The whole world spent the last month trying to come up with a contingency plan in case this came to pass and... I'm sorry, Nan." Martha picked up Kamalei's gun. They were going to need it topside. I guess there are worse places to wait out armageddon than Hawaii.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. My mother... my poor nieces..."

"I can't believe he jumped," Martha said to herself, then chuckled.

"...so many people-" she stopped, then turned to Martha. "Excuse me? Did you just laugh? This is not a joke!"

"Yes, you're right," Martha said, trying to sound sincere. "It's... very serious."

"But you have been acting strange this whole mission. Especially around Quinn."

"I understand. I get it. This is a very emotional moment so I don't blame you if-"

There was a loud BANG and Nan grabbed the side of her throat. She stumbled back into the server then slid to the floor, gasping. Martha looked around but didn't see anyone else in the cavern. Then she smelled gunpowder and looked down at the proverbial smoking gun in her hand.

How did it happen? I pulled the trigger.

Clearly, it was an accident. Was it?

She snapped out of it and rushed to Nan. Blood was spurting from the wound. Her eyes, bulging with fear, hatred, and accusation, were fixed on Martha's.

Martha didn't know what to do or say. "I'm... I..."

"Who the... fuck are you?" Nan rasped, then her body went limp.

Martha stared into her eyes, still fixed, still accusing. What had just happened? And why... Why don't I feel anything?

James was just playing a role – chewing scenery as a villainous caricature. But was Nan's death meaningless? Was her life meaningless? No! This was murder! She trusted me and I killed her!

And yet where there should be guilt... nothing...

What did this make her? Forget role playing. Was she an actual villain? But she'd done so much good, in this and past lives. Was that erased now?

Or was James right about that too? Was there no such thing as good or evil? Was there any moral consequence to saving or taking a life?

Martha raised the gun to her chin. No, I'm not ready. This needed to be sorted out and kindergarten was not the place for it.

She brought the gun down then tossed it over the ledge. Based on where she'd heard Kamalei enter, she found a door. Before venturing into James' apocalypse, Martha looked back at Nan, lifeless against the server, and pondered all she was leaving behind.

Author's note:

This chapter is why we can't have nice things!  Remember Disneyland?  Wasn't that nice and innocent?  Let's all just think about Disneyland for a minute...

Anyways, I don't mean to start a debate.  Murder is wrong – full stop.  But immortality is a helluva thing...

It's like Mama always said – If you don't brush your teeth, you'll get cavities.  And if you don't die, you'll lose your moral compass. 

Yeah, my mom was weird.