"What is it?" Paxton looked at the enormous clear glass tube before him.

"It's a transportation device." Johnson sounded bored.

"How does it work?"

"You get in the tube."

"No, I understand that." Paxton shook his head, resisting to the urge to roll his eyes. Too often had Remi called him a girl for the action.

"Look, I'm not a technician. You get in the tube. I press the right buttons. The tube brings you to where you need to go. That's all I know." Apparently Johnson didn't have same restraint as Paxton did. He rolled his eyes. "Let's just get on with this. You're going to run out of time. Take the sand you just mixed and hop in. Remember to use only a pinch, and whatever you do, don't wake anyone up. Okay?"

"All right, all right." Paxton stepped up to the tube and it opened length-wise, giving him more than enough room to step inside. Hoping he didn't have any hidden claustrophobic tendencies. As soon as his body was securely in the tube, the glass pane slid closed and he was entirely encased in glass. Johnson stepped over to a console and pressed a square brown button. Suddenly, Paxton was surrounded by white light. The glass in front of him was glowing, and soon little squares began to appear before him. In each little square there was one of the people he'd been assigned to. Gently, he pressed the fingertip of his pointer finger against the face of the man with the mustache.

Victor Snark, here I come.

Paxton closed his eyes, bracing himself for what was to come. He felt the air shift, shudder, and then a huge gust of wind rushed over him. As quickly as the gust of air had come over him, it stopped. When Paxton opened his eyes he was standing in front of a door. Or rather, behind a door, he soon came to realize. He looked around him to see shoes and coats in the dim light.

I'm in a closet. That's appropriate.

He could make out the grumbling sound of someone lightly snoring. Hopefully Victor wasn't a light sleeper. Paxton carefully opened the door, and stepped out onto carpeted floor.

The first thing he noticed was the painting above Victor's bed. It was an enormous explosion in the shape of a mushroom. Paxton could only make out the colors red white and black in the dim light. Then the other painting came into focus. Victor's walls were covered in diagrams, pictures, and painting of weapons, explosions and general destruction. Paxton walked closer, gripping the small red bag of sand in his right hand. On the end table next to Victor's head there was a small gun. Paxton couldn't tell what kind it was, knowing next to nothing about guns, but he knew that it was a dangerous weapon. He remembered Johnson's words. "Whatever you do, don't wake anyone up." Paxton couldn't imagine anyone who would want to wake up Victor Snark.

Time to get to work. Reaching into the bag, he pinched a bunch of sand between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it out. Careful to step lightly, Paxton made his way to the head of the bed. Victor enjoyed sleeping on his back. Right now his mouth was wide open and his thick brown mustache hairs fluttered every time he exhaled. Taking a deep breath, Paxton's hand hovered just over Victor's eyes. Careful to aim for the corners, Paxton let the sand fall from his fingers. Just like earlier with the dummy, the result wasn't immediate. Paxton released his breath and stepped away from Victor. Time to get out of there.

Just as Paxton reached the door to the closet, Victor let out a low keening moan. The sound reminded Paxton of the time he saw a boy kick his dog. The dog had yelped and then let out a mournful moan in response to the boy's betrayal. Scared that whatever "message" Victor was now receiving might wake him up, Paxton quickly pulled the closet door open. Jumping inside, he shut the door carefully behind him. He didn't have time to wonder how he was going to get back. A flash of grainy white light took him over as the gust of wind returned. Soon he was back standing in the clear glass tube.

"Took you long enough," Johnson was perched on a chair next to the console, his feet propped up on the part without buttons.

"How many more of these do I have left?" Paxton asked, wondering if he had the nerve to sneak up to anymore sleeping people to sand them. Real live human beings were a lot more difficult to sand than plastic dummies.

"Let's see." Johnson opened the folder in his lap. "I am going to have sit through… six more of these. Great." Paxton decided he'd rather take on the anxiety of enforcing than having to deal with Johnson any longer.

"On to the next one!"