The seat in the Lear Jet was hypnotically comfortable and, as the pilot or pilots, since I could not see forward of the canvas between us, pushed the engine controls to maximum, I breathed deeply and went to sleep. The level of exhaustion I felt could not be held off any longer nor the fact that I’d eaten only one cheeseburger in two days without sleep. I wanted to think about San Clemente, the Dwarfs meeting again, Steed, and all of what that might be but none of that could happen until I was recovered.

“Orange County,” a voice near to my left ear said, startling me into full wakefulness.

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