"So may I offer you the use of the staff elevator?" asked Madeline. "That would be most kind," I replied, "it will not be an inconvenience for you I trust." "No not for me," responded Madeline beckoning a male receptionist. He motioned for me to follow him. Leading the way through a door marked private, he led me to a lift. "My name is Antoine," he said, "it will be my pleasure to take you higher." I found his manner quite flirtatious, and his cheerfulness infectious. We entered the lift, and he began the ascent. After mere seconds, the elevator ground to a halt. Antoine was unable to bring the machinery to life and used the emergency phone to alert the hotel staff. Turning to me, he said, "Monsieur the lift is not working. We have to wait for an engineer to come." We chatted casually for ten minutes, or thereabouts. He told me how he had come to Paris several years before, in order to further his career. I spoke of my regard for french culture and how it was unfortunate my business. Then danced her feet weaving the pattern of thetrail of sorrows across the coals to emerge in the dance of Light.Her dance stopped suddenly as a figure stepped out in front of her cladin a buffalo robe, holding a feathered Lance out to her as he dropped toone knee.I suddenly realized the entire place was silent as a tomb. This warrior'sface was painted blue with a single white stripe across his eyes.She reached out her hands and lifted the lance from his open palms, andhe was gone in a puff of smoke. It was the war lance that had hung aboveGrandmother's fireplace.Everyone looked in shock as she stood there holding it, tears streamingdown her face."Take it child, take it to the sealed room in your trailer. You are theguardian of the secret places now." Grandmother that was," she began."Shodaji, Yes the Spirit Warrior. And now I think you know what it isthat you carry out into the stars."Of all the trucks in the convoy, Beauty's cargo had been a completemystery."Me, you mean my cargo.
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