Unfortunately, Dumas couldn’t focus his full attention on Chester’s performance.  He still needed to monitor Wonderland’s other areas.  It wouldn’t be the first time that thieves and troublemakers had taken advantage of everyone else being distracted by the show.  But whenever he got a chance, Dumas’s gaze returned to the screen displaying Chester’s latest feats and illusions.  Some of them he understood -- DEE’s monitoring system provided clues which were denied to Chester’s general audience.  Yet, even after watching the spectacle hundreds of times before, some tricks remained a mystery to Dumas.  And Chester always added a few new touches.<br/><br/>For reasons known best to itself, DEE was maintaining its holographic presence in the room, staring at the screens as if it actually needed human eyes to see what they revealed.  “He’s rather good, isn’t he?”<br/><br/>Something in DEE’s tone made Dumas think that the comment meant more than it seemed to.  But he refused to rise to the bait.  Instead of retorting, he continued watching the screens in silence.  When Chester kissed the young woman and the young man, Dumas felt something tug at his heart.  Envy?  Regret?  Good old fashioned lust?  Dumas couldn’t quite name the feeling.  And after considering it for a moment longer, he realized that he didn’t want to.  Because naming it would create the expectation of trying to deal with it, and trying to deal with it would almost certainly prove painfully frustrating.<br/><br/>Again, DEE’s voice broke into his thoughts.  “After all, it’s been a long time since--”<br/><br/>If Dumas’s earlier rebuke had been sharp, this one was a hard slap, as violent as an attack against a noncorporeal opponent could be.  In general, he’d resigned himself to the fact that DEE possessed full access to his memories.  But there was one important exception.  “Don’t say his name,” Dumas hissed.  “Don’t whisper it.  Don’t even think it.  If you’re some twisted version of me, then dwelling on him is fucking pathetic.  And if you’re not me, then he’s none of your goddamn business.”<br/><br/>“I’m sorry,” the hologram whispered, before fading away into nothingness.  But like one of Chester’s illusions, its hurt expression seemed to linger in the air long after the rest of it had vanished.