I'm still trying to wrap my head around this.

Meon Bell was the "important friend" referred to in Cray Fenton's message. I thought they were not on talking terms. I know that Meon had been trying to reach out to Fenton, and that Fenton was not responding; hence, the reason I set out in the first place. But I guess that they had rekindled their friendship while I was busy with other parts of this "Circle" project.

"While you were gone, a few changes happened," Fenton said that night. "First, we will not have to worry about the funding for this expansion of the 'Circle,' only developmental logistics. Our funding needs for the next ten years, should everything go exactly to plan, have been met to the very penny."

"And who should I credit for this donation?" I asked.

"No one," said Fenton. "They made us, both me and Meon, sign a promise to keep them anonymous."

I paused for a bit, I guess. "It's only for the best," Meon added. "We are not doing this to you; we are doing this to anyone not named Meon Bell or Cray Fenton."

"It's the best for the "Circle," for the Third Level Society, and for Meon, himself," continued Fenton. "I know you do not understand. Maybe you will have to in the meantime, but rest assured by our word no harm will come of this, especially with regard to the arrangement for perpetuity."

"What do you mean? What arrangement?" I wanted to ask, but before I could say a word, Meon started in.

"Terrings left, you know," Meon said.

"I'm sorry?" I said.

"Terrings left," Meon said again. "Marcus Terrings. You know...'Mr. Space Cadet' as everyone calls him. He's popular though, and he did not leave in anger."

"He was apparently accepted into some sort of duty in Cenofan," Cray added.

"That means the future of the Dungeonmaster position is uncertain though," Meon said. "Karlin Maryk is still there but many in the Society, and I mean a large majority, have hoped for Terrings to succeed him."

"No," I managed. "You're not suggesting I go back there and run for..."

Meon laughed and put his hand up to me. "No. Don't worry about that. I misspoke. What I meant is that Terrings was the main figure for promoting his revolutionary global dymensional plane. Everyone is excited, but his departure is leaving a great deal of confusion. In fact, that's my quip with him. He doesn't know how to tie loose ends."

Meon said more but I was hung on the word "revolutionary." I thought his idea was ridiculous. I left the Society in the hopes that eventually Terrings' radical agenda would fall out of fashion, thus come the return of the Steamster fabric we all knew and loved. For the Society to embrace Terrings' "interglobal plane" as revolutionary...

I jumped a little when Meon put his hand on my shoulder. "Here's where the arrangement comes in: the Society is looking for an individual to fill the shoes of Terrings by testing the new prototype he created; and yes, he left that behind for us at least. And I thought that you would be the perfect candidate to do this.

"You see," Meon continued. "You have had nothing but negative sentiment for this guy and his invention. I, of course, understand why you felt the way that you did. Honestly, I would have felt the same given your position. But the issue is that with Terrings so passionate about his invention and having gained such a band of loyal followers, and you can believe me when I say that he had many followers, everyone was there to give insight on the positive aspects of this thing. These same followers were reluctant to admit any flaws."

"But didn't Terrings have naysayers as well?" I asked.

"Therein lies the issue," Meon said. "Your departure dealt a blow to those naysayers. They have either avoided taking the public stand or accepted that conformity was the sole necessity. No one, and I mean no one, has actually taken a solid stand on providing honest testimony regarding the invention, pointing out the flaws. And my friend: that could be you."

There I stood stunned, attempting to process this.

"Karlin Maryk has asked me to provide you with two stipulations," Meon continued. "First, there will be no retaliation for honesty. In fact, Maryk has taken extra measure to ensure you are protected. And second, you will never have to pay Membership dues for the Society. That will be waived for a lifetime."

"And I will not consider your return to Cabotton a move against us if that is what you are thinking," said Cray. "The other part of the arrangement is that the Third Level Society...they have quite the network of builders making parts for console-building, a mass production of the old Jon Beyon model."

"So that's our anonymous donor," I pointed out. "The Third Level Society?"

"No," Meon said.

"Please. Do not concern yourself with that," Fenton said. "And also, here is yet another stipulation: If you decide that you have had your fill, yet again, of the shenanigans in Cabotton, you will always be welcome to the Galleston Farmhouse; in fact, rest assured, you will actually head the North Kempton dymensional plane."

Meon took a hard look at me, the hardest look I've seen anyone take at me. "I think you need some time to think on this. Maybe a few days, perhaps."