The fluffy white cumulonimbus was a wisp of vapour in the air. No traces yet of billowing grey, lashing black streaks of rain onto the land. No signs of the hardened hailstones, or hints of the electrical turmoil which would soon be stirring within. Like a newborn infant, the growing beast had no idea of its future.

No suspicion of the latent energy that rested in its mass.

In the house, far below and as yet, far distant, a man lay in restless dreams. The clues had all been there, but he'd never read them. Never understood his past, nor the dormant power which lurked within.

His dreams were of hot light, and roiling energies.

A nightmare. Only a nightmare.

He sat up and checked the windows, seeing only a clear night with a sparkling of stars.

Calm, peaceful. He relaxed, and wiped the sweat from his face with the sheet.

Safe--for now.

It was the best he could do. Take the now as it comes and don't sweat the future.

He smiled, a little foolishly. Only a dream.

He, more than most, should have realised that all things change...

Nate Leighton chucked his day pack onto the worn sofa and made a big point of tossing in a pair of socks.

"I'm not looking," Aje Morton warned him. "I don't want to know." Behind Nate's back, he gestured to Brandon Weisner. There was a lot of wild pantomiming, but Brand had no trouble interpreting the mouthed "no fuckin' way!".

"I saw that," Nate told them, grinning. "Think of the hike--"

"I am. That's the part I don't want to know about."

"Up in the mountains," Nate continued, "away from all this city air." He smiled, then shook his head disparagingly. "Damned sceptics. It's a pollution survey, pure and simple."

Brandon Weisner snorted. "'Pure'? If it's so far away from all that pollution, why are you surveying for it?"

"Because he's simple," Aje supplied.

Nate smirked, then turned quickly, to stuff a shirt into his pack. "Lichens are a great monitor of air qualit--"

"I knew it was a crock! This is one of your 'collecting' trips." Aje shook his head disgustedly.

"That's my cue to leave," Brand said. "See ya."

Aje leaned against the door, to block Brandon's exit. "No way you're leaving first. Then he'll expect me to come along."

"The last thing I'd expect--hell! The last thing I'd want is to haul your big, dumb ass up a mountain--" Nate began.

"So now it's mountain climbing, is it?" Brandon lifted one eyebrow.

"And if I don't come along, then I'll get a phone call later. 'I'm stuck on a ledge, but don't tell anyone'," Aje mimicked.

Nate said reasonably, "That only happened once. It could've happened to anyone--"

Brandon looked at him pityingly. "'Anyone?'"

"He was just lucky his phone wasn't out of range or he would've been out there all night."

"Go to hell, Aje," Nate said genially.

"You're telling me his phone was charged? It actually worked?" Brandon asked dryly. "Only thing I find surprising."

"Who the hell dumps on a ledge, anyway? What'd you think you were doing there?" Aje gave him a mocking smile. "Brandon really wants to know."

"Brandon doesn't give a shit," Brandon replied, "so long as Brandon doesn't have to winch you off any ledges."

"Pollution studies. Measuring lichens." Nate grinned. "No coprophilous fungi involved."

"Whatever--Hubert." Aje grabbed his coat off the rack. "Let's just say I have plans for Saturday."

"Anyone I know?" Brandon asked him.

"Known her for years," Nate supplied. "First name's Play. Last name's Station."

"You should be so lucky," Aje retorted. "Not that it's any of your business, but her name's Antoinette--"

"First name Marie?" Nate offered helpfully.

"--and I met her at the Club."

Brandon grinned, and yanked open the dilapidated door.

Aje peered out. "Damned streetlights are out again." He scowled at Nate. "Why don't you complain?" Then he flicked the porch light switch, only to find it was out, too. "Is this thing broken again?"

"Surges?" Brand suggested. "Lights in your house, too?"

"Pop all the time," Nate admitted.

"Damned fire trap," Aje complained. "Let me out of here."

"You should move to a better part of town," Brand said.

"And have you guys visit me more often? No thanks. Besides," Nate added, munching on an apple he'd taken out of his pocket.

"I've seen him put other stuff in that pocket," Aje muttered distastefully.

Nate grinned. "Relax. It's been washed."

"Besides--?" Brandon prompted.

Nate looked at him blankly for a moment, then remembered. "Some neighbours might object to my hobby."

"I can't understand why you don't keep that crap at work, with your other stinking fungus."

"Contamination." Nate took another noisy bite. "Nobody wants dung in their lab."

Brandon looked at the apple, and shook his head. "I'd better go before my nachos do." He rubbed his stomach. "Thanks for the snack--I think."

Communing with nature. Nate loved these times, when he could get out, and see only open spaces around him. As much as he liked working in the lab, there were too many constraints--like being in a box. Not only the workspace, but the protocols--the procedures. All systematic, all carefully mapped out. All scientific, and all about proof. Repeatable, verifiable, measurable proof. Proof that frequently required analysis on a computer.

Which is why he relished the freedom of his coprophilous studies. They were a type of systematics research he'd been introduced to as an undergrad, and that he'd really enjoyed. No matter how well he could predict what kind of fungus would grow out of a piece of rat or dog or elephant dung, there were always surprises. So far, he'd discovered eleven new species.

In contrast, now that he knew which techniques he could use, there wasn't all that much that was "new" about the stuff he was doing down at work. Mostly verifications of plant diseases. Testing for specific proteins. They'd learned early on not to let him near any of the computers, spectrophotometers, or electrophoresis gels.

Despite what Aje and Brandon had said, there wasn't that much of the "stinking" or "dirty" about his dung studies, either. Each specimen was in a covered container, and he discarded the source material as soon as he'd isolated its fungi.

It's just the whole idea behind it, he reasoned, grinning. But if it really grossed them out, they wouldn't drop by so damn often...

His first year at his "hobby" he'd had a standing order at the zoo, for samples of dung from different animals. A lot of the results had been standard stuff--nothing to rattle the systematics texts. But there had been that one new species, and it was enough to get him hooked. A few months later, when the zoo had started contracting all their dung out to a fertiliser company, Nate had been forced to go further afield. So he'd started taking these hikes up into the mountains. It was something he'd done as a teenager, years before, and he'd forgotten how good it felt to visit all that fresh air. Now, he got away at least once a month if he could. He'd already decided that some day, when the labs turned fully computerised, he'd go from specialist, to generalist--opt for being a field biologist, and turn the analysis over to someone else.

Today he'd found a path he'd never taken before--and he'd already promised himself he'd never take it again. Nature had been communing with him big time. He'd been tramping for less than two hours when the skies suddenly opened. Rain and hail--and they were coming down so hard it hurt. Nate was soaked before he could drag his rain gear out of his bag.

Good thing Aje isn't here, Nate thought. I'd never hear the end of this...

I probably won't, anyway. Aje, despite his protestations, would have half an ear tuned on the weather report.

Nate had never expected him or Brandon to come along. It was just a way of covering his ass, without sacrificing his pride. Brandon always insisted he needed to tell someone when he was going hiking on his own, and Aje had been adamant about it since that ledge goof-up. So, he'd tell them, they'd give him a hard time, and that was that. Except he'd always get a call on Sunday--just in case. In Aje's words, "If I have to save your stupid hide, I want to know before I make other plans."

Nate's thoughts were interrupted by a loud rumble, and a flash of brilliant white, that lit up half the sky. Lightning!

No! It was the thing that terrified him more than anything else. The thing that sometimes invaded his dreams. There was probably some name for it--for this kind of irrational terror, but right now, he didn't know--or care. The lightning was coming--heading his way.

A burst of adrenaline shot through him and he started to run, slipping and sliding in the muck and leaves. Panicked, he ran off the trail, heading toward an overhanging knob of rock.

Solid. Safe. It can't get me there.

It's okay, Leighton. You'll make it...

Only, he wouldn't. It was at his back, watching him ominously from the skies, and it was going to get him.

There was a tingling in his shoulder blades.

It was going to stab him, right in the back.

He'd never told anyone. How, when a lightning storm came, he'd hide behind the door, or in a closet. Deep in his house, or burrowed beneath the desk in his office.

His mother had said he'd been struck once, when he was little. A baby. He didn't remember it, but some part of him did. He'd been running from the stuff ever since.

It was coming. His hair was standing on end and his gooseflesh was doing a shivery dance. The pressure in the air was so thick he couldn't breathe...