Global Warming Fun 6: Ice Giants Make Manhattan

by Gary J. Davies

  ****

  When Ann Richards entered the terminal at La Guardia Airport she was unexpectedly greeted by more than her usual two-person local UN security detail. Something was up! She spotted at least half a dozen additional UN Security agents, plus a familiar well-dressed man who stepped forward to shake her hand firmly.

  "Welcome home, Ambassador Richards," said Grant Stephens, head of local UN Security. A tall athletic man in his mid-forties, Stephens usually exuded confidence and determination, but right now he looked shaken, Ann noted. She didn't have any of the telepathic skills of her husband, but she could read facial expressions, body language, and hand-shakes like the pro diplomat she was. "And Ambassador Talking Stone, of course," Stephens added, addressing the Stone-Coat that walked closely behind Ann. The six-foot tall diamond-coated behemoth had a commanding presence, but Stephens held his focus on her, Ann noticed. Something big was up all right, and it wasn't good, and it specifically involved her!

  "Your daughter Tracy has been kidnapped," Stephens stated calmly and softly, though the statement struck Ann like a hammer-blow. "Along with a young Mohawk Tribe child named Mouse."

  "Yes; I am receiving details on it now from local Stone-Coats," said Talking Stone dispassionately. "Stone Runner was severely disassembled and the two humans are missing. And you and the rest of the UN security staff are in a state of elevated alert, as are all Stone-Coats in the area. The jants also know of it, as do the human police at City, State, and Federal levels."

  "Yes," said Stephens. "Though multiple threads of inquiry are being pursued, this is being treated by us as an attack on the UN."

  Ann was momentarily taken aback. She was used to crisis and to helping to address it: starvation, malnutrition, riots, rebellion, war, migration, storms, earthquakes, terror attacks, protests, plagues, and so-on. But the bad things happened to other people in mostly other countries, not here at home and not to her. Crisis happened to strangers. This was very different. Tracy was her youngest: her baby. This kidnapping was very personal and hurtful. "Who?"

  "We don't know," said Stephens. "Do you?"

  "I report all threats I receive to your staff," said Ann. "You tell me." She received hundreds threats every day of course, mostly hateful ones from humans that still objected to the Stone-Coats and jants that she and Talking Stone jointly represented in the UN, and to the UN in general. As an effective UN ambassador, she was hated by millions of conspiracy-prone humans world-wide, including many local City people.

  "With humans it's the unspoken threats that are typically the most dangerous," noted Talking Stone.

  "Exactly!" said Stephens. "Any possibilities come to mind? Some new threat or a crisis what may have triggered this? Anything?"

  "No," said Ann. "Nothing that immediately stands out, anyway. What about my husband?"

  "What about your husband?" Stephens countered. "Should he be a suspect?"

  "No; he could be the target! He is also a VIP with a lot of involvements and connections that may have bred enemies."

  "Less so than his legendary forbearers, but I suppose that's true," said Stephens.

  Ann rolled her eyes but both she and Talking Stone managed to otherwise not react. Like almost everyone else on the planet, Stephens had no idea that the public three generations of Ed were all in fact one non-aging person. Ed was his own grandpa. Best to keep that a secret. "Has not the US Government expressed interest in this case?" She was of course thinking of Jerry Green, the secretive leader of the USA government, Ed's longtime friend, the genetic-engineering creator of the jants, and cause of his and Ed's unusual longevity. She was sure that in this sort of crisis Ed would have immediately reached out to Jerry for help.

  Grant nodded. "Huge interest. As a matter of fact we received urgent direct calls from both the United States President and the Secretary of State. They actually alerted us to the kidnapping situation in the first place."

  "My husband doubtlessly alerted them," said Ann. "Does that level of political influence not suggest to you that he and not me could in fact be the actual target of this kidnapping?"

  The face of the UN official reddened a shade. "We will of course investigate that possibility."

  "Within the bounds of UN protocols," said Ann. "The USA is a class-A country not under UN jurisdiction. The USA Feds and the Stone-Coats doubtlessly have official jurisdiction for this case, along with the local City police. The UN can play only a support role in any domestic investigation, unless a vote of the entire UN overrides normal established protocol. There has been no such vote."

  "Of course," said Stephens, though his eyes said something else. "Our role is primarily protection of the UN including its ambassadors. For your personal safely we're taking you and Ambassador Talking Stone into protective custody. You will be taken to one of our underground facilities in the Catskills to await resolution of this incident."

  "Wrong, Grant," said Ann. "I'm going now to be with my husband in Brooklyn." She was a head shorter than Stephens and half his weight, but her force of personality was dominating.

  "And I go with her," said Talking Stone. He moved forward to stand beside Ann, raised a massive diamond-coated arm to protectively hold above and around her shoulders, and stared at Stephens with his unblinking red-glowing eyes. Under his other arm he carried Ann's suitcase.

  "Negative," said Stephens, "according to directive 33.94 you can both be restrained by me."

  "Wrong," stated Talking Stone. "Not if the ambassadors in question object, which we do. I wrote the directives under which you operate, Mr. Stephens; I will not be lectured by you on what they say and mean."

  "However we will take our normal security detail with us, of course," said Ann.

  "You do this against my strongest recommendations," said Grant. "I want that in the official record."

  "I have just now placed your objection and our over-ruling of it in the official record," said Talking Stone. "Come Ann." Talking Stone and Ann, followed by her two normal security people, followed by several others, made their way through the crowded terminal. People dodged their approach; two tons of animated rock with giant diamond claws and bear-like form was nothing to bump into. A few terminal passengers paused and looked, pointed, or recorded the progress of the entourage, but most paid it little heed. Both Stone-Coats and rifle-armed humans had become a common sight world-wide. Those people that paid close attention recognized Ann from news broadcasts, but most were New Yorkers that didn't react very strongly to VIPs, except perhaps entertainers. New Yorkers mostly simply went about their own business and expected others to do the same.

  When they stepped through the doorway leading outside Ann in her light jacket was hit with the cold immediately. After two weeks in balmy Southern Europe, returning to New York City was like stepping into a freezer. Though the science of it had been explained to her many times, she was still confounded by the fact that the net warming of the world had resulted in the development of a few places that were colder for a while, including Eastern Canada and the USA New England states. Eastern Antarctica was also for a time temporarily colder and snowier, a useful situation that slowed its ultimate melting due to the increasingly warmer waters that surrounded it. However now even Eastern Antarctica was pitted throughout with melt-water lakes and rivers. Within a few centuries even it would completely melt, plunging much of the highly human-populated coastlands under water, including New York City. Or maybe not. There were growing rumors that the Stone-Coats would perhaps save the City.

  Walking Stone actually preferred below-freezing temperatures that supported his ice-driven hydraulic systems, and was fortunately immediately able to electronically hail a heavy-duty Stone-Coat friendly cab for himself and Ann, and for Kirk and Jet, their human UN security team. Not every cab was built to accommodate bulky two-ton fares like Talking Stone along with several humans. Like most cabs this one had no human driver, so the three humans had the entire warm and cozy front seat to themselves, while Talking Stone sat in back with Ann's
suitcase, riding with windows and roof wide open to the freezing cold and falling snow.

  "This is exactly the same model cab that was destroyed this morning in the kidnapping," remarked Talking Stone. "We should all stay alert."

  Ann was anxious to learn more. Talking Stone offered to share raw information that had been passed to him, but Ann decided to first get summary information.

  "Ed, what the hell is going on?" Ann asked her husband, when she reached him by phone. "I just heard about the kidnapping! How could this happen?"

  "I don't know, Ann," Ed replied. "I'm walking my way down Manhattan Avenue now to meet with a police detective at the site of the kidnapping here in Greenpoint." Ed reminded himself again as he crossed another side-street that 'right turns on red' were not allowed for motor vehicles, which was helpful to pedestrians such as him and Mary.

  "It happened near home?" Ann asked.

  "Yes; the crime scene is only a few blocks from our Eagle Street apartment," said Ed. "I got Jerry Green to pull some strings and make this a very high priority case for everyone. He has assured me that Stone-Coats, jants, and humans are all on the case. We'll find them, I promise you we will! We have to!"

  "I'll meet you there, Ed," said Ann, "and I'm bringing Talking Stone and UN security with me."

  "Swell, Ann," said Ed. "I'm bringing a Stone-Coat with me: a Mary."

  "As in Mary your wife?"

  "Yes, a replicate Mary. The one that can walk, not Fred."

  "Fred?"

  "Yes, Fred is also a Mary. But I'm walking with the Mobile Mary that showed up at the apartment after the kidnapping. Or rather I'm pushing her in her wheelchair. There is a clue to the abduction to jointly pursue with her."

  "The UN security folks didn't mention any clues," said Ann.

  "They might not know about it yet. The Stone-Coats and jants are likely rapidly spreading the news among themselves but we humans can be slower."

  "I don't understand how Stone Runner was overcome," said Ann.

  "Nobody does," said Ed.

  "We intend to find out," piped up Mary, from her wheelchair that Ed was pushing along the sidewalk.

  "Was that the Mary speaking?" asked Ann. "Give her the phone."

  Ed handed Mary his phone and refocused on pushing the wheelchair. He needed both hands to effectively push it anyway. The sidewalk was mostly clear but there were still occasional stretches of new snow, ice, and curbs to traverse. But this was New York City, where walking had always been the key means of transportation. There were dozens of pedestrians per block walking along Manhattan even on a snowy day like this one. Snow or no snow, this was just another day, and the stores, restaurants, banks, and other businesses along this major street were busy. The few stretches of sidewalk that hadn't been fully cleared were already stomped flat by the numerous walking humans.

  "Yes, hello Ann," replied Mary. "I see that you have honored my request that you take care of Ed after my death."

  "What request?" asked Ed.

  "Women talk, Ed," said Mary. "Don't you worry about it. I'm simply happy that Ann seems to have taken good care of you. Other Marys have expressed that view and passed it on to me, but it's always good to verify things for yourself."

  "Other Marys?" Ed asked.

  "We Mary's like to keep in touch with each other, of course. We don't know how Ann puts up with you though."

  "Me either," said Ann. "Where are you now?"

  "Ed is pushing me in human and wheelchair form south along Manhattan Avenue. We're almost to the alley near Greenpoint Avenue where the kidnapping happened. Through the falling snow I now see flashing lights up ahead and to the right; that's very likely the crime scene."

  "Great," said Ann. "We're on McGuiness Boulevard crossing the New Polansky Bridge from Long Island City now; we should be there in a few minutes."

  Old fashioned yellow plastic crime tape, a police car with flashing red lights, and several cold-looking human cops blocked the entrance of a small alley off of Manhattan Avenue. Beyond additional police cars fifty yards up the alley a gigantic Ice Giant towered next to the crushed and torn remains of a heavy-duty Yellow Cab. Several smaller Stone-Coats and humans moved about the alley, cleaning away new snow, recording images, and collecting objects they found.

  Despite the cold nasty weather a couple of dozen curious civilian onlookers stood outside the tape, silently watching everything that happened at the scene. Half were Mohawk Tribe people that Ed recognized, and they exchanged silent nods of recognition and respect with their Chief.

  "Move along, Buddy, this is a crime scene," one of the human cops told Ed as he pushed Mary on her wheelchair towards the crime tape and showed no signs of turning or stopping.

  "We are here to examine the scene, human," said Mary. She stood up out of the wheelchair, walked stiffly to the crime tape, lifted it up, stepped under it, and waited while her wheelchair moved itself under the tape unattended, followed by Ed. After the cold walk from the apartment Mary was chilled to below freezing temperature, and moved much better now that she could effectively employ ice-driven hydraulics rather than steam.

  The cop's jaw dropped as he realized that Mary was a Stone-Coat and he did nothing to try to stop her. As a rule humans stayed out of the way of Stone-Coats, even cop humans.

  "Who is in charge here, officer?" asked Ed, when the cop's attention finally returned to him. "I am supposed to meet a Detective Driscal here and review the crime scene with him."

  "You must be Rumsfeld then," said a new voice. "I'm Lieutenant Haskins, NYPD," said the large athletic looking middle-aged woman that stepped up to face him and reached out to vigorously shake his hand. Her handshake was crushingly firm and she didn't bother to even try to smile. "Who the hell is in charge here is a damned good question, Rumsfeld. The Stone-Coats got here before we did and collected broken Stone-Coat bits and piled them together despite our protests that those bits are evidence that our human forensics team should have first examined. The big one stands over the bits like a mother hen and says it's powering their reassembly and won't let us get near them.

  "In terms of humans some of the local Mohawks were here even before us. Then the Feds showed up. Then UN security. Now you. Then to top it off my Captain tells me that Driscal is coming over from Manhattan to also work cooperatively with us and that we're all to be one big happy cooperative team. Ain't that just peachy keen!"

  "My wife Ambassador Ann Richards and Ambassador Talking Stone will also be here very shortly."

  "Hell! You have to be kidding me!" said Haskins. "Look Rumsfeld, the Stone-Coats and the Feds and UN people here just talked with me about Tracy and Mouse, and we're going to do what we can to get them back, but stay the hell out of our way so that we can do our jobs, get it?"

  "I don't get why I had to tell NYPD about the kidnapping," said Ed. "Doesn't the cab company have records showing Tracy and Mouse to be cab passengers?"

  "Oddly enough they have no records of the cab picking up passengers at your apartment," said Haskins. "The cab company may have been hacked."

  "Swell," said Ed. "And you guys don't even know who's in charge here."

  "I don't care who says otherwise, I'm in charge of the investigation, got it?"

  "Absolutely," said Ed. "What can I do to help?"

  "Aside from the Omega business identified by the note that you managed to destroy, have you got any idea who is responsible?"

  "No I don't," Ed admitted. "Isn't there 24/7 camera footage of every street and alley in this city? And there is also the overhead surveillance by autonomous unmanned air vehicles. Whatever happened has to be on a street-cam or UAV video, right?"

  "Wrong!" said Hastings. "All autonomous UAV drones were grounded due to weather and the street-cams in the area inexplicably turned off for several minutes before, during, and after the attack. We do have Stone-Coat videos to examine but so far they don't seem to show anything particularly interesting."

  "How could all police surveillance fail that wa
y?" asked Ed. "Were you guys hacked too?"

  "I'll ask the questions, Chief. Have you got anything to add?"

  "Not really," Ed admitted.

  "Then you can best help us and those who were kidnapped by keeping your wife and yourself the hell away from here and away from this case."

  "We'll take a quick look at the crime scene and very soon be out of your hair here," said Ed, "but my Tribe friends and I will be looking for the girls ourselves also, that I can promise you."

  "With the help of every Stone-Coat in the City," added Mary. "That I can also promise you."

  "Well ain't that just peachy keen!" said Haskins acidly.

  A big cab rolled up and a Stone-Coat, an attractive classy looking woman with graying hair, and two gun-toting humans in UN security uniforms climbed out of it. At the same time a crowd of reddish-faced individuals arrived on foot and two of them rushed up to Ed and Ann to hug them both - the parents of Mouse: John Half-Bear and Moon Walker. As was not uncommon for their particular branch of the Mohawks, both of them were competently telepathic.

  The several other Tribe members that arrived with the parents respectfully stayed beyond the police line. Among them were several Wolf-Clan and Bear-Clan warriors, Ed noticed: Tribe security force people that Ed was always happy to see: especially a few of the old-timers that he had known for decades.

  "WE CAME AS SOON AS HE HEARD, ATI:RON," pathed Moon Walker, silently addressing her Chief by using his Mohawk name: Ati:ron/Raccoon; a name that long ago the original Mouse/Old Mother had affectionately given to Ed. Moon Walker was immensely proud to be a decedent of Old Mother and to have born to her a daughter of such powers that the Tribe agreed to name the child Mouse. Moon Walker was in her mid- twenties and looked very much like Old Mouse's granddaughter Talking Owl, now dead for over a decade.

  "THOSE OF US WITH THE THOUGHT EXCHANGING GIFT ARE SEARCHING THE CITY FOR OUR LITTLE ONE AND FOR YOUR DAUGHTER," added Half-Bear, "AS ARE OUR STONE-COAT FRIENDS. WE HAVE ALREADY SPOKEN WITH HASKINS BUT WE HAD NOTHING USEFUL TO TELL EACH OTHER." The young man was one of Ed's many great grandsons. The telepathic skills of both parents were solid, though they paled compared to those of Mouse the Tribe prodigy.

  By now Ed and Ann were exchanging hugs with each other as well as with the young Tribe couple. "WE WILL FIND THEM," Ed told Mouse's parents, with as much confidence as he could muster. "TRACY AND MOUSE TOGETHER MAKE A FORMIDABLE PAIR AND WILL TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER, IF THEY CAN. HAVE HOPE. I TRUST THAT TRIBE SECURITY PEOPLE WILL SEARCH FOR THEM COMPETENTLY AND I ALREADY HAVE FAINT LEADS TO EXPLORE. I WILL KEEP YOU INFORMED."

  As the four parents huddled together shedding tears and warmth and words of endearment and encouragement, they barely noticed when a big noisy florescent orange hydrogen-guzzling retro-Humvee pulled up behind the yellow cab, and an ordinary looking middle-aged man in severe winter-gear climbed out of it awkwardly only to be immediately accosted by Haskins. The two cops were soon shouting at each other loudly, drawing the attention of everyone else gathered there. Haskins and the new arrival were both mute from a human telepathic perspective and Ed had no idea what all the shouting was about, as the rising wind and swirling snow quickly swallowed most of their words.

  "Fuck you too," they heard the newcomer finally shout at Haskins as she turned from him scowling and huffed away towards a nearby NYPD squad car. The man immediately turned his attention to Ed and Ann and walked towards them stiffly. He wasn't smiling.

  "I'm Driscal, Rumsfeld," he announced as he held out his gloved right-hand to Ed. "I'm here to find your kid and the other kid, and deal with the bad guys. I've been ordered to stick with you like glue while I do that."

  "I WASN'T EXPECTING A ZOMBIE," said Ed silently to Driscal and his rogue jant colony using the secret telepathic jant language, as he shook Driscal's hand. "NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT."

  "And you look many decades younger than I expected, Chief," said Driscal. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

  Interesting, thought Ed. Driscal apparently already knew about his longevity. Through his jants, of course. The little buggers couldn't keep a secret. They used their amazing telepathy to spread information among jant colonies all over the planet! Even rogue colonies such as Driscal's apparently knew who he really was! "Did Hastings just give you the lay of the land?"

  "Hell yeah, did she ever!" Driscal answered. "She basically told me to piss off and get lost, which is exactly what I plan on doing once you and me take a quick look at the crime scene. Her and me didn't get along too good since even before I died. This is her turf and she's none too happy to see me in it."

  "So you know each other then?" asked Ed.

  "Pretty much," said Driscal. "She's my ex-fucking-wife. And the cute Stone-Coat you have with you is your ex-wife, Chief. Only now I'm an ant-controlled zombie and your ex is a damned rock creature! Ain't life a hoot?"

  Ed immediately categorized Driscal as having a high functioning human brain for a zombie, though he was obviously also perhaps somewhat of an asshole. The man clearly retained most of his human cognitive abilities, including a crude personality and sense of humor. Swell. "I have requested to directly work with the police, Discal, and I've been told that you're the man that I am to work with."

  "Yeah, that's me," said Driscal, "though me and my little rogue jant friends would much rather work alone. Hooking up with you ain't our idea, Chief. I'm here to get the job done. Like my ex I'd be telling you fuck-off and leave me alone to do my job, if you didn't have so much political juice."

  "Swell," said Ed. His first impression of Driscal was actually generally very positive. Driscal was a tough no-nonsense individual. That's what was needed to get back the girls.

  Ed introduced Driscal to the others.

  "I can't take this whole crowd into the crime scene," said Driscal. "It's just you and me, Rumsfeld, or my ex will kick my ass."

  "Talking Stone and I are coming," said Mary."

  "Whatever," said Driscal, who clearly wasn't pleased but wasn't about to deny access to Stone-Coats.

  "I'll sit in the cab with Mouse's parents," said Ann.

  Ed, Mary, and Talking Stone followed Driscal deeper into the alley crime scene, while a dozen local Brooklyn cops eyed them all with obvious suspicion. The detective and his entourage first viewed the wrecked cab. "Damn! No obvious evidence of explosives but the thing is all torn apart!" the detective remarked. "Something sliced through the steel of the cab like it was butter! Those look like Stone-Coat claw marks to me!"

  "Perhaps deceptively so," said Talking Stone. "The power required as indicated by the damage done suggests a huge Stone-Coat but the modest claw mark sizes suggest a Stone-Coat closer to my size, which should be far too small to inflict such damage or to do so and escape so quickly. It is an apparent incongruity in the evidence."

  "Good!" said Driscal. "Gotta love a mystery."

  "Yes, that specific data set is indeed apparently incongruent!" said a deep voice from high above them. The party all looked up at the Ice Giant that stood next to the wrecked cab and stared down at them with dinner-plate sized, red glowing eyes. "I reached that same conclusion immediately after discovering the scene."

  Good, thought Ed; this giant had excellent English skills. Even here in the City many Ice Giants simply did their work without bothering to communicate much with the human inhabitants.

  "You were first on the scene?" asked Driscal, as he craned his gaze upwards at the towering Ice Giant. It had to be over eighty feet tall.

  "Yes, and I estimate that I arrived only two minutes after the start of the attack," said the giant.

  "Based on what, Great One?" asked Mary respectfully.

  "I initially detected an unusual electromagnetic disturbance, accompanied by several seconds of what had to be the distant sounds of the cab and Stone Runner being ripped apart. When I arrived two minutes later there was only empty silence and this scene of recent destruction. I quickly identified the extremely disassembl
ed status of Stone Runner and immediately began standard re-assembly protocols. As I am sure you are aware, small Stone-Coat pieces need to begin repair very soon if the complete individual is to be recovered."

  Between the massive spread legs of the towering Ice Giant was a yard-high black matted mound of twisted gray-tinged Nano-tubing that covered a six-foot square area. Thousands of Nano tubes linked the mound to each diamond encrusted leg of the Ice Giant. Within the mound the remains of Stone Runner were being arduously re-assembled, largely molecule by molecule. The fact that a lot of power was involved was suggested by the constant spattering sound made by falling snowflakes striking the dark mound and instantly being vaporized into steam. Deep within the great giant a well shielded collection of radioactive material provided considerable power for the reassembly.

  "So you were only a couple of blocks away when it happened but there was nothing to be seen but the torn up cab and Stone-Coat by the time you got here?" asked Driscal.

  "And except for the destruction you see I sensed nothing conspicuously out of the ordinary here," said the giant.

  "Did you record what you sensed?" asked Driscal. "Something that appears ordinary might still provide useful information."

  "Of course," said the giant. "You will find the video to be of particular interest."

  "I have already received those files, Detective," said Mary. "All Stone-Coats in the City have received and analyzed them and discovered interesting but perplexing clues. The files have also been provided to the City police. I can preview them to you later if you wish."

  "Infrared images included?" asked Driscal. "I'll want to see those."

  "Obviously," said Mary.

  "Yes, you will find the infrared images to be the most interesting," said the towering Ice Giant, "for they show another seeming incongruity."

  "You can review that evidence as we travel to our first CUNY campus," said Mary. She turned to loudly address everyone. "Logically it will be me, Ed, and Driscal pursuing our clues in his unmarked NYPD Humvee, with all others returning to the relative protection of the Rumsfeld Eagle Street apartment. Is that agreed?"

  It made sense to Ed. If Ann was a target she would be as safe within Fred as nearly anywhere else, especially with Talking Stone and her UN security guards. "OK," he said.

  Driscal wasn't especially pleased to be told by a Stone-Coat where he would be going in his own Humvee, but he was supposed to be following Rumsfeld's lead, if his ideas were reasonable. "CUNY campus? What the hell?"

  Ed quickly explained the Omega clue to him and showed him an image of the ransom note as everyone piled into their respective vehicles.

  "We still have most of the day to pursue the Omega clue," said Mary. "We should be able to visit several key Omega campuses."

  "Bossy woman, isn't she?" Ed said to Driscal, while giving a little nod towards Mary, as they climbed into the Humvee. The Mary was already climbing into the back seat with her folded wheelchair, where she began adjusting the zone climate controls to keep herself comfortably frozen. The jant climate controls in the space behind her would have to work harder to keep the colony warm.

  "Ain't they all?" Driscal responded. Sticking with Rumsfeld would be bad enough, but it looked like he would also be stuck with a pushy know-it-all Stone-Coat with human female tendencies. No doubt about it, this case would be pure hell. He was already looking forward to looking back at it.

  As Driscal pulled away in the Humvee he noted that his ex-wife Haskins had taken the trouble to climb out of her warm and comfy squad car to enthusiastically wave bye-bye to him with her middle finger. Well ain't that sweet, he thought, as he waved back to her in kind. She still cares!

  ****