In Service to a Goddess,
Book Three
Copyright©2003 by Ed Howdershelt
ISBN 1-932693-12-2
Caution: Some Erotic Content
IMPORTANT NOTES:
Two chapters of this book entail some sensual depictions.
Don't go there if you don't like that sort of thing.
Don't read them and then say that you disapprove.
First, I won't care that you disapprove. :)
Second, if you disapprove of sex scenes you shouldn't read them and then comment, because it brands you as a hypocrite for having read them in the first place.
The chapters to skip are 11 and 12.
I've purposely rewritten the ending of 10 and beginning of 13 to accommodate the timid souls who prefer their SF to be sexless.
You'll miss a psychic bonding that provides a causative base for two later chapters, but I've managed to write those chapters so that the events are fairly understandable, after all.
The scenes of sexual activities are drawn from the willing cooperation and entertainment of three women of my acquaintance who share themselves with me, so don't even consider trying to tell me that women 'wouldn't really do that' or that they
'wouldn't really say that'.
They do and they did.
My heartfelt thanks go to Samantha, Dana, and Lisa - my research team - for taking my 'silly superwoman fantasy stories' seriously enough and long enough during a July weekend to help me speculate about some things and verify others.
THE CHARACTERS:
April: my first wife's good side during our marriage.
Sara: the questionable side of another woman I once knew.
Doris: a lady cop I knew in Dallas years ago. An odd combination of libertine and badge.
Kim: ex-mistress to a drug dealer in Dallas. Her looks got her in trouble and kept her there. Lisa took many liberties with this character by infusing much of her own personality.
THE PLAYERS:
The roleplayings/interpretations of April and Sara were enacted by Samantha, who also suggested that since we have our own bond, our characters should somehow bond, too.
She's kind of new-agey and suggested the imagery of Sara in a feral animal mode after hearing about one of my first wife's uhm... episodes.
It should probably be mentioned that she seemed to overly-enjoy acting out that scene.
She also suggested our bonding should be that of several beings of light on a psychic plane of existence. We voted yes on both and she was so happy she actually volunteered to get out of the hot tub to get the next round of drinks.
Doris and Erin were (appropriately) enacted by Dana, the most conservative member of our group. We call her "Mom" now and then to bug her when she bugs us about nit-picky stuff like shedding clothes on the upper pool deck. (too visible, she says)
On the other hand, we have management when we need it and even when we don't.
Dana commented that she was the best-suited to adopt the role of Doris because she had something of her own to work out last year that was sort of similar in one regard.
Kim was enacted by Lisa, who used her own personality and tastes (yes, a pun) as a model and was the one who first mentioned that I don't taste bitter and brought up the line of speculation concerning the dangers of super-sperm zipping around the room.
Lisa is a recent addition to our group, and the story's speculation about including Kim in our mental link was taken from our own discussions when we first met Lisa concerning how far into our lives Lisa should be allowed, if at all.
We knew her for two months before we told her much about our arrangement. She asked if there was room for one more, and that was precisely what we were hoping for by that time. Thank you for joining us, Lisa.
Final note: We still have no intentions of forming a theater group.
(Sorry, Samantha.)
Chapter One
Lab two is located along route 246 between the towns of Arabela and Roswell, New Mexico, a patch of desert that is easily a day's drive from Dallas.
There's a lone gas station in the middle of nowhere that's been there since some Depression-era program installed it as a refueling station for the Civilian Conservation Corps and their make-work projects.
Nowadays it's also a check-in point for the dirt road that leads to lab two and a few other concealed facilities in the area.
I arrived around midnight. The gas station was closed, so I used the pay phone on the wall outside, punching in three zeroes, then the pound sign.
The phone came alive and a woman's voice asked me to enter my code. I punched in "D-R-A-G-O-N-F-L-Y" on the phone's number pad.
The voice then asked my name. She didn't mean my real name. She meant the name that had for so long been attached to my code word.
I said, "Bruno Stachel," and was told that I was expected. I said thanks and hung up, then aimed the Malibu down the dirt road that led to lab two.
Within a hundred yards, a very slight, moving blockage of the stars let me know that my escort had arrived.
I looked up and could barely discern the outline of the tiny craft. Maybe two feet long and generally invisible against the night sky, it was actually flying backwards, maintaining surveillance of me as I trundled along. You could only see it when it blotted out the stars or clouds.
Nicknamed "the bat", it was capable of several methods of observation and of stopping any vehicle known by a number of different means, gentlest among them a targeted EMP burst that would disrupt the electrical system of an unshielded vehicle.
It would simply ram a shielded vehicle, accelerating nearly instantly to Mach 2 and delivering a narrow burst of plasma that could punch through the hull of a tank.
As I watched it hang silently above my car I hoped that they'd finally knocked all the bugs out of the AI programming in the damned things.
Most of Lab two is underground for concealment from the public, but there's some fencing in the middle of nowhere to mark the place.
If you don't check in before you turn off the highway, you'll be intercepted inside half a mile by at least two jeeps full of what appear to be ranch hands.
Whoever is in charge of the guard shift will claim to be the owner of the property upon which you're trespassing. You'll be asked to leave, and if you don't, you'll be arrested and turned over to the local law.
If you do check in at the station, your escort will be a "bat". Nobody gets into the area alone.
As I approached the end of the road a large chunk of fake real estate tilted upward, exposing the ramp that leads to the lab complex below.
I stopped at the huge concrete-and-steel blast doors at the bottom of the ramp and waited. My "bat" remained hovering above me as three guards appeared.
Two of them methodically inspected my car while the other one kept me covered with an M-16. After an ID check, the 'bat' left and the blast doors opened.
A guard walked alongside me as I drove the Malibu forward onto the metal platform. He eyed my old Chevy dubiously, obviously wondering why the hell it wasn't in a parts yard, but he maintained his proper guard's decorum and refrained from comment.
"You'll park in space 319, sir, to the left as you leave the elevator. Someone will meet you there, so don't leave the area. Turn off your engine while inside the elevator and have a good day, sir."
I nodded and watched the doors close behind me in the rearview mirror, then felt a slight lurch and watched the walls appear to move upward as the elevator descended.
When it stopped and another set of blast doors opened, I located my space and took my bags out of the trunk as another, more jovial, guard in a golf cart pulled up behind me.
"Taxi!" he grinned at me, "Dump 'em in the back and hop aboard." After I did so, he asked, "Where to?" as he handed me a combination keycard and facility badge.
I grinningly asked, "Why the hell are you so cheerful at one in the morning? Let's go to the front desk."
"My boss is a gorgeous super-blonde and I make good money. Why shouldn't I be cheerful? Front desk it is. Want to drop off your bags in your room on the way?"
"Sounds good. And let's make it the cafeteria instead of the front desk. They already know I'm here and I need some coffee."
Sara met us at the cafeteria. She wore jeans and a green tee shirt that said, 'See Carlsbad Caverns!' and carried a huge travel mug that she filled before joining us at the table.
"Hi, Boss!" said my driver, waving to her.
"Hi, Frank. Okay, I've got him now," she said, waving her mug at him. "Love this stuff," she said to me. She sat down and took a sip.
Frank took the cue and left us with a little salute.
After he had left the table, she asked, "What really brings you here, Ed?"
"April didn't tell you?"
"She told me about you and Doris and mentioned Farley's tests. How are you handling everything? Need to talk? Want a shoulder?"
"Well, I'm okay with things, really, so could I have a leg or two instead?"
Sara grinned and said, "Yeah, you're surviving, I guess. You gonna tell me about it? What made you split up?"
"It'll be gossip by morning, so I'd better get my story in first, right?"
"Right," said Sara, still grinning, "Except that it's already gossip."
I sipped coffee and filled her in on things. My breakup with Doris wasn't really a breakup. It was more a sort of drifting apart that occurred over the last almost-a-year once the "NRS" (new-relationship-syndrome) had faded.
You go through a stage of passion that may last a few months or more, then a stage of companionship punctuated with fairly frequent bouts of lovemaking.
Then you enter the stage of knowing each other entirely too well. There's friendship, but the overwhelming lust just isn't there anymore and both parties wonder why for a while. The answer's simple, of course. It was time to move on.
Doris was a fairly standard thinker and her enhancement hadn't changed that. For all her rhetoric about there being "no perfect man for her", that's exactly what she was looking for and I wasn't him.
I was the equivalent of an interesting summer-vacation fling who worked hard at not working hard and taking life easy at the farm.
Doris began to ask me questions like why I didn't go out and get a 'decent car' and a 'real job'. I showed her my ledger once to curtail those lines of questioning. I had two moderate incomes from previous employers and a monthly retainer from lab two.
I also had credit beyond my needs -- and probably beyond my ability to repay -- available from a number of sources that I never used, so getting a new car wouldn't have been a problem, except that I didn't want one.
My old Chevy Malibu started instantly, it could pull a stump or take me anywhere, and it didn't look like something worth stealing or breaking into because the sound system was hidden behind a drop-panel that looked as old as the rest of the dashboard. If it was wrecked, I could replace it for a few hundred, not thousands.
Needless to say, we'd gone places together in her car.
When asked what I did for a living, Doris once told someone, "He's retired," and changed the subject.
I realized she was somewhat embarrassed that I wasn't as typically ambitious as most other people she knew.
Then the attempts to remanufacture me began. Suggestions about clothing led to gift certificates from various stores. She'd pin them to their ads. I allowed them to pile up on the bookshelf in plain sight.
Doris didn't harbor any great fascination for ballet or the theater, but she began deliberately accepting invitations to events that would require me to wear more than jeans and less than a tux and were generally events we'd have ignored, like ballet and various stage productions.
I told her that if I wouldn't rent it as a movie, I wouldn't dress up and pay thirty bucks to see it, either.
"Deathtrap" and "Phantom of the Opera" were the only shows I attended that season, and neither required more than slacks and jacket of me.
Doris's failure to convert me became frustrating for her and that frustration began to show itself daily.
Things finally came to a head when we were invited to a friend's wedding, which led to a discussion of marriage in general while we were getting dressed, which led to her asking me if I'd given any thought to our future.
I said I hadn't. She asked why I hadn't, so I told her as I zipped her into her bridesmaid outfit.
"This discussion has been developing for some time, so I'm going to be direct, Doris. You wouldn't have asked me that unless you were ready to hear my answer. You're ready for an answer that will make you stay or set you free to search for a man who will be what you feel you need. I'm not him and you already know that. You want a mortgage, a husband, and the usual package of bills and children. You want a family."
Doris gave me the fish-eye.
"And you don't? Aren't you a little tired of living in an apartment that's part of a barn? Have you ever wondered why I don't invite friends over?"
I laughed softly.
"No, I haven't wondered about that at all. Are you forgetting that I had a vasectomy when I was twenty-one, Doris, or were you thinking of shopping the orphanages? Enhancement didn't undo that, you know, and nothing has changed my mind about having children around."
I handed her the jewelry she'd decided to wear with the outfit and continued, "A mortgage? Bills? For what? I like me as I am. I have what I need and I can stay at the farm as long as I care to because I still own the barn. The apartment is separated and modern and you used to love it for the privacy. You like me, Doris, but I don't think you really love me or you wouldn't be trying to change me. You want a standard lifestyle. I can't help you get it, so we'll probably wind up being just friends soon."
Doris had stood like a statue, her level gaze at me in the mirror unwavering as I spoke and for a few moments longer, then she'd said in a rather flat tone, "We could even start being 'just friends' tonight, Ed, if that's what you want."
I touched her cheek and told her, "Yes, we could. But not if I want, Doris. I like you as you are and things as they are. I don't need these changes. You do, so it's up to you. If you have to leave in order to find happiness, then you have my best wishes. I really mean that."
She stared at me a moment longer, then said, "We'll be late. Let's go."
I noticed the way some of her things had gradually disappeared around the house over the next couple of weeks, but said nothing.
One Sunday night Doris told me that she was taking the last of her things with her to work on Monday and that she wouldn't be returning.
We made ferocious, feral love that night, and in the morning I woke her with a cup of coffee and a kiss. Doris was half-dressed when the urge hit her.
She called the office to tell them she'd be late, then pulled me into the bedroom one last time and used me without mercy for an hour, crying even as she came.
When I went back inside after watching her leave, the apartment seemed as empty as a cavern.
Not long after Doris would have arrived at the office, April called.
"Doris came in, told me you two have broken up, and then went home. Are you all right?" she asked.
I said I'd get by. She asked if I needed to talk about it. I said I probably needed some time to get used to living alone after almost a year of living with Doris, but that otherwise I was fine.
"Well, call if you need anything," said April, "And don't be macho about it. Breakups can be a real bitch, Ed. The fallout from them hits at odd times, too. I'm here if you need me."
"Thanks, April. Fact is, I was thinking about putting some time in at lab two with Farley. He never finished all those damned tests and I said I'd help with them a month ago. He probably thinks I've been avoiding him."
"Actually, that's exactly what he thinks. He said so. Sounds good, Ed."
After hanging up, I tossed some stuff in a bag, tossed the bag in the car and told Brenda where I was going, and then hit the road in the Malibu.
"And so here you are," said Sara.
"And so here I are," I said.
She smiled. There were footsteps behind me. A brunette woman in her thirties waved to Sara as she passed us. Sara told her to get her coffee and join us, then told me that the woman worked with the feds.
Glimpsed briefly, the woman seemed to have striking features, but as I looked at the characteristics of her face in profile, they seemed to be fairly common.
Sara noticed my interest and lifted an eyebrow at me. I shrugged an 'I don't know' at her and continued to study the brunette until she turned to join us at the table.
She was concentrating on not spilling her too-full cup as she sipped it down a bit, which gave me a few moments to study her from the front. There was something that bugged me about her. When she looked up, she stopped in her tracks and stared at me.
Sara now realized that something was definitely up. She stood and pulled a chair out for the woman, adding a level of insistence to her invitation. "Erin, this is..."
"Ed?" Erin uncertainly finished Sara's sentence for her, amazement in her face.
"Uh, yeah, Ed..." said Sara, clearly confused.
She looked at me. I gave her a questioning look in return to let her know I was confused, too.
"You can't be," said Erin in a voice full of wonder. "He'd be in his fifties now."
"What are you talking about?" asked Sara, "His name is Ed and he is in his fifties. What's the big deal here?"
I stood and put a hand on Sara's arm and said, "She looks vaguely familiar to me and she seems to know me, so why don't we find out how? Have a seat, Erin."
"You are him!" said Erin, "How..?"
She sat down in a rather dazed way and continued staring at me as Sara and I also took our seats.
"Where do you know me from?" I asked, "You look sort of familiar to me, too, but I would have written it off as someone who looks like someone."
Erin gave a weak laugh. "You don't remember me at all? Well, I guess that's understandable. You were more concerned with the hole in my chest than my face, and there were a couple of burning cars to get away from."
That did it. I remembered in a rush of images.
"You're the woman from the wreck."
"That's me. But it's been more than twenty years... how..? Oh, hell, of course! You're here with Sara. You're an enhancee. That explains why you don't look fifty."
"You're holding up pretty well, yourself, lady. You don't look any different to me."
"Thanks. I'm... um... I'll let Sara tell you about me. It might sound better from her."
I looked at Sara. Her one word response was, "Later." She patted the table quickly to emphasize her interest as she turned back to Erin.
"So how do you know Ed, Erin? What happened?"
Erin thought a moment and said, "We... met once. I looked for him for about a decade, off and on, but he virtually dropped out of sight once he got to Europe. I saw his picture so often in the files... But I never expected to actually meet him again, Sara..."
The element of wonder was still in her voice. She paused, then asked, "How did you come to be here, Ed?"
"Luck. Fate. I ran into April one night a couple of years back. She decided to keep me around. Now I'm a minor part of things on permanent standby status."
Erin had a thoughtful look.
"I'd like to hear your version of the wreck, Ed."
Uh-huh. My version. She was looking for confirmation of something. "My version is about the same as the way the cops wrote it up, Erin. Nothing new."
"Indulge me, please," said Erin. Something about her tone caused a sharp look from Sara.
***
My Honda 250 had died on Interstate 80, almost ten miles before Cheyenne, Wyoming. A cop gave me a ride into town and dropped me off at a motorcycle shop. I made arrangements to have my bike retrieved and the shop owner gave me a ride to a nearby motel. I cleaned up and went to the Denny's for dinner, after which I opened my battered copy of 'Alas, Babylon' to read and watch the world go by through the restaurant's window.
Motion caught my attention in the parking lot of the bar next door. A very agitated guy was staggering to his car, so drunk he was bashing his legs on bumpers.
He fell once between cars and bashed his head, too, but that didn't stop him. Weaving to his feet, he used the other car for support as he fished through his keys.
I put my book in my pocket and started outside with the idea of trying to talk him into either taking a cab or sleeping it off in his car. When I heard the car start I hurried a little faster.
He revved the engine a few times as I jogged across the parking lot. When he saw me coming, he gave me the finger and floored it, shooting straight out of the parking lot and into the street.
The bozo hit the brakes too late, slamming to a halt against the curb on the other side of the street, but that didn't stop him for very long.
He backed up, cut the wheels hard left, and straightened the car in the direction of the interstate service road. He grinned at me again and gave me another finger, then floored it again, burning rubber and accelerating quickly.
All I could do was watch him barrel down the street as he approached an intersection at close to seventy. He swerved slightly to avoid hitting the stop sign at the corner, but he didn't even slow down as he passed it.
The drunk's car hit the dip at the edge of the intersection and bottomed out, then bounced back upward hard enough to lift his front wheels off the ground as another car screechingly skidded into the intersection from the right.
The driver of the other car had seen the drunk's car and was standing on his brakes, but it was far too late to be of any help.
The bumper of the drunk's car impacted the oncoming car almost three feet above the ground, making the drunk's car climb on top of the other car and literally tearing it almost in half.
Everything from behind the door post to the front bumper was crushed and wedged under the drunk's car and the rear half had twisted to slam back along the side of the drunk's car.
The whole spinning, mangled mess dragged itself to a halt on the grassy embankment just beyond the street.
When I got to the wreck the drunk had gotten out and was limping badly as he wandered around the front of his car. He stumbled and fell, then got up and leaned on the wreckage beneath his own wrecked vehicle, swearing loudly into that wreckage.
I truthfully didn't care about the drunk's condition and wasn't going to waste any time or effort on him. I ignored him and ran around to the less-crushed passenger side of the bottom vehicle to see if anyone was still alive.
The guy inside was sprawled across the seat and floorboards, battered and mangled beyond hope, but I reached into the wreck past a foot-long protrusion of ripped steel and checked his pulse. Dead.
Something flashed near my face.
Looking up through the windshield hole I saw fiery droplets of oil or plastic dribbling on the crushed remains of the dashboard and smelled burning plastic.
There was a whoomping noise above me as something under the hood of the drunk's car caught fire. I backed away from the wreck fast.
A woman who appeared uninjured was lying face down on the grass maybe twenty feet to one side of the ripped-open car's rear half.
As I checked and found her pulse, she feebly struggled to roll over, so I helped her, and that's when I saw the blood on her chest.
It looked as if she'd been shot. The front of her shirt was soaked with blood. She tried to say something, but couldn't quite gather enough breath to speak.
I ignored her efforts to speak and grabbed her shoulders to drag her farther away from the wreck.
The fire that had begun under the hood of the drunk's car dribbled down into the car below and quickly spread to fill the interior with roiling flames and smoke as fabric and plastic burned.
Fire trucks and ambulances must have been based in the nearby industrial area because they arrived rather quickly, but not quickly enough.
The first firetruck was still a block away when the drunk's car's gas tank exploded.
A ball of flame enveloped both cars briefly and lifted the rear of the drunk's car about ten feet. That fire set off the other gas tank and a wave of intense heat passed over us as the flatter fireblast from the second explosion almost reached us nearly forty feet away.
The woman looked up at me in confusion.
"Who? Who are you?" She had finally gathered enough breath to speak, though her voice was barely a whisper.
"I'm Ed. Hold still."
I pulled up the remains of her shirt and saw that there was a field dressing on the wound.
"There's nothing more I can do here," I said, pulling down her shirt, "But help is coming. I'm going to go tell them to get right over here, okay?"
She nodded weakly. I got to my feet and ran towards the ambulance, waving my arms to get their attention.
"Over there!" I yelled, pointing in the woman's direction.
They saw her and drove the ambulance right up the hillside to her position, followed by a firetruck and two cop cars.
I walked behind the other firetruck that had parked itself to block the intersection and looked around for a moment. Everyone's attention was on the flaming wreck, so I blended into the midst of the small crowd of onlookers that was assembling.
It wasn't long before a cop showed up to tell us to move farther away to keep the equipment clear. I walked back to the motel.
***
"...And that's about it," I said. "All I really did for you was drag you clear of the explosions and fire."
"Well, that was enough, wasn't it?" asked Sara, "What happened to the drunk?"
I glanced at Erin before speaking. She had an odd, sharp gaze as I said, "The flames got him."
Erin's gaze continued. She knew. She'd seen what had happened to the drunk.
"Good enough," said Sara, "One less asshole in the world."
Her comment caused Erin's gaze to switch to her for a moment, then it returned to me.
There was silence for a few moments at the table. I silently remembered a part of the story that I hadn't mentioned. The part about what happened to the drunk...
***
I was kneeling by the woman to see if I could do anything for her. The drunk was beating on the warped and crumpled passenger door of the car beneath his and screaming at the dead driver.
"Hey, asshole! Wake your ass up and look what you done to my car! I'm gonna sue your ass after I beat the shit out of you!"
He kicked the door and tried again to get it open, but it was too warped and mashed to come free.
I didn't think about it. I just stepped over and tapped his shoulder, and when he began to straighten up, yelling, "What the fuck do you want?", I simply pushed him about a foot to his left and shoved hard.
He screamed as the flat, pointed metal protrusion next to the door entered his chest with a sound like a knife being driven into a melon.
First he looked down at his chest uncomprehendingly, then his face turned to me in a mask of shock.
I looked back at him as he died and said, "Nothing, I guess. Sorry to have bothered you."
I left the drunk impaled on the shard and went back to the woman. Her eyes were open and she asked who I was. If she'd seen me shove the drunk, she said nothing about it. I dragged her clear of the wreck just before it blew up, then slipped into the crowd as soon as I could.
***
The silence at the table ended when Erin said rather flatly, "We have to talk, Ed."
Sara laughed. "Well, I guess so, after all these years. Tell you what, I have a few things to do before I can hand things over to the day shift. Why don't you two get reacquainted? I'll see you later."
Sara refilled her mug and waved as she left the cafeteria. Erin peered into her cup and stirred it unnecessarily when I looked back at her.
Her voice was almost a whisper. "I... I thought I saw you do something, Ed..."
"You want to know about the drunk? Whether you saw it or imagined it?"
"Yes. I began to wonder about it after a while. They found what was left of him on the ground beside the wreck. The piece of metal was still in him and they figured it happened during the explosion. I was in pretty bad shape and I couldn't be sure that I hadn't just imagined it, so I never told anyone what... I see no point in telling anyone now, either, Ed. I just wondered."
"He was a waste of skin, a drunken asshole, and a danger to everyone who'd ever meet him on a highway. He'd have been driving like that again the day he got out of jail. Sara said you worked for the feds. That usually means FBI around here. Is that why you were looking for me? I didn't think the FBI handled stuff like that."
"No, you're right. The FBI doesn't handle murder. I asked around. The motel manager remembered you and gave me your name. At first I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me, but you were hard to catch up with. Then you disappeared for several years, and rumor had it you were working for Solutions during some of the African wars. Were you a mercenary, Ed?"
I could hear the total disapproval in her tone.
I answered carefully, "I was a medic, Erin. I was paid to fix people, and I never shot at anyone who wasn't shooting at me."
Her expression belied her words as she said, "I guess that helps a little, but why did you go that route at all?"
"Money. Adventure. Travel. I knew the job and they needed me."
"How convenient. Did you ever wonder about me? Whether I lived or died?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Now and then I remembered the beautiful woman from the wreck and wondered about her, yes. Sometimes I even wondered what would have happened if I'd stuck around, but I suspect not a hell of a lot. Your total avoidance now of talking about the guy who was driving your car leads me to believe he was someone special to you. I think you would have said thanks and maybe had me over for dinner and drinks, but maybe not even that much because of the drunk."
Erin just stared at me.
"You decided he was special to me because I didn't mention him at all? Do you realize how little sense that makes? Think about it. You talk about the special ones. You don't talk about the others."
"When you say it like that, it seems to make sense. When I try to feel it that way, though, it doesn't add up, particularly since you're so insistent. I still think the guy was very special to you."
Erin's eyes narrowed a little, then relaxed. "He was," she said, "Very special. We'd only been married for two weeks."
"Um. Damn, Erin. Sorry. That's a lousy thing to have happened. But I was right. My leaving didn't matter. Still doesn't. Done is done, the drunk included, right?"
She just sat there for a moment in silence.
"Right," she said at last, "Have I thanked you yet for pulling me away from the explosions that night?"
"Let's say you did and move on."
Her eyebrows arched. "Move on? To what? Or are you telling me to go away, now?"
"Ha. Not a chance. You're as beautiful today as you were then. I meant let's get to know each other a bit. We have something in common, after all."
I touched her hand on the table and almost froze in startlement.
"Aha!" I said, "So that's why Sara said, 'later'..."
"What?" Erin snatched her hand back. "What the hell are you talking about?"
I made a boogieman face and made my hands into claws, looming over the table at her.
"You're one of them, ma'am," I said, then, "But you're here, and you're good pals with Sara, so you can't be one of the bad guys, can you..? Very interesting."
Erin rubbed her hand where I'd touched it. Her voice was harsh with tension.
"Are you telling me you got all that from touching my hand? Who told you? April?"
"Think on our meeting a bit. I didn't even know who you were. You can check it out with Sara. She'll think it's funny, but don't get pissed about it."
"Why would she think it's funny?" asked Erin in a very cold tone.
She was getting pissed anyway. I held up a hand placatingly and tried to explain.
"I sense things about people sometimes, Erin. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. Sara or April can tell you about that if or when you really want to know."
"Don't patronize me, damn it. If I didn't want to know I wouldn't ask. Convince me."
I thought about it for a moment, but only a moment. What the hell. If she freaked out, she'd be gone, and she'd already been missing from my world for over twenty years. No loss. But if she handled it well, she'd maybe want to stick around, and that appealed to me nicely.
I grinned as I reached for Erin's hand and said, "Let me show you, then."
I gathered all the sensations of my last romp with Doris and let them flood into Erin. Her eyes and mouth opened wide and her free hand flew to her lap.
She seemed to freeze solid for a few moments, then her eyes closed tightly and she let out a little gasping moan. I sent her another flood of remembered sensations and she almost doubled over the table.
"Jesus, Ed," said Sara's voice behind me, "I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"
Erin snatched her hand back and flushed bright red as Sara sat down. Sara grinned at Erin and then at me.
"You bozo," she said, "What are you trying to do, scare her off?"
"Hey," I said, "It's a test. I like women with guts. What's so scary about this?"
Erin was staring at me, but talking to Sara. Her voice was shaky.
"D-do you know about this... this thing he does? Has he ever done it to you?"
Sara laughed. "Hell, yes, he's done it for me. Not to me, Erin. I was a volunteer!"
Erin stared at Sara then. Sara laughed again and rose to go to the coffee pot. Erin turned back to me. She seemed to want to say something, but couldn't put it together.
I gave her a fatuous smile, then took her cup and mine and followed Sara to give Erin a few moments to reorganize herself.
I heard her chair scoot and looked back. Erin was walking quickly toward the door without a backward glance. I looked at Sara. She smiled.
"No sweat, Ed. She'll be back after she freshens up a bit."
I nodded and filled both cups on general principles, then carried them back to the table. Sara sat stirring her coffee for a moment, then she giggled.
"Gawd. I remember the first time you did that to me. Oh, sorry... For me. What a shock."
"You liked it. Now is the 'later' you mentioned, Sara. What's an Aktion Beta doing down here?"
Sara looked at me coolly and said, "Did she tell you or did you just glean it out of her?"
"Gleaned it. I touched her hand and it just sort of popped across at me. Story?"
"It's a long one and probably better told by her. She's one of us, though. She's okay, Ed."
"Figured that or she wouldn't be down here. If I ever see her again I'll ask her."
"I said she'll be back. That woman doesn't scare easily."
"Cool. We'll see. She seemed kind of straight-laced about it all, I thought."
Sara laughed. "Yeah. Right. Erin is no more straight-laced than I am, Ed. You just caught her completely off-guard tonight. Twice. Have some patience."
Just as Sara was saying, "Have some patience," Erin walked back into the cafeteria. She was striding as she approached our table and she sat herself down firmly.
Glaring at me, she said, "You won't ever do that again without permission, Ed. Got that?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. Got it, ma'am. How soon can I get another permission, ma'am?"
Sara giggled. Erin glared at her for a moment, then she giggled, too.
"I'll let you know if you can ever do it again."
"If I can do it again? Not an issue. I can definitely do it again, ma'am. Wanna see?"
I started to reach for her left hand. She yanked it back. It turned into a fist in her lap.
"NO! I mean, just contain yourself, okay? Damn!"
She made quite a production of adding sugar and cream to her coffee, stirring it in vigorously.
Sara was laughing at her. She waggled her hand at me and said, "Oh! Do me, mister! Do me!"
I knew she was just joking, but I couldn't help it. I gathered myself and grabbed her flailing hand, quickly feeding into her the same sensations I'd given Erin.
Sara's eyes unfocused and she sat very still for a moment. I fed her again. Her low moan of pleasure made Erin redden again. I grinned at Erin as I fed Sara one more big jolt, then let go of her hand.
When Sara's eyes unclouded, she looked down.
"Damn it, I was just kidding and I'm wearing jeans over my uniform, Ed."
Erin peeked around the table and reddened yet again. Sara slipped out of her jeans and wadded them into a ball, then took off her tee shirt and wrapped it around the jeans. I blatantly let my eyes travel the length of her.
"From where I sit, it was worth it just to get a look at you in uniform," I said.
Erin glanced at Sara's chair. Sara followed her gaze and swore softly, used her wadded clothes to dry the chair, then sat back down.
"Like she said, never without permission, okay?"
"Oh, but I had permission, ma'am. You were hollering 'do me, mister', so I did."
"Smartass. If you play dumb at the wrong times you could play hell getting real permissions later, you know. There are other ways to get off around here."
"Ah. Yes. So there are. I believe I understand you perfectly, ma'am."
Erin giggled, then laughed. It was good to hear. It meant that she was coming to terms with things well enough to see the humor in them.
Sara plopped her wad of damp clothing on the table and gazed at it for a moment before speaking.
"It was a good one, though, wasn't it?"
"It was, indeed, miLady. I always do my best for you, you know."
"Uh, huh. Well, maybe you do, at that, but don't try to con me. I'm one of the people who know what you get out of it. Just do it by real invite only from now on."
"Roger that. At least the place isn't crowded at this hour. Think of the commotion if such a thing had happened at lunchtime..."
I nodded meaningfully at the ball of clothes.
"I'd rather not think about that," said Erin. "It's getting late and I'm due in Farley's lab at nine."
"Ed's here to help Farley with some tests," said Sara, "What are they this time, Ed?"
"No idea. He did say they weren't dangerous. 'Course, he said the same thing about the tests that caused that two-day-long fire on level seven last year."
We talked a little longer, then adjourned to work or sleep as required. Heading down the hallway to my room I considered events and decided that I'd probably be hearing from Erin in the next couple of days for matters other than Farley's tests.
The smart ones are almost always very curious, as well. I stripped and just let myself fall into bed.
Chapter Two
For no good reason I could imagine I awoke around seven, so I went to the cafeteria to tank up on coffee and have breakfast to get rid of the not-enough-sleep jitters.
Nobody I knew was there yet, and that suited me just fine. I didn't feel like "sharing", "talking", or even having company at breakfast.
The steadily-moving line of strangers with trays provided a comforting atmosphere of anonymity. I didn't dawdle over the food. My mood was such that I wanted to be out of there before anyone I knew arrived.
I began to wonder if coming to lab two had been such a good idea, after all. As soon as that doubt had settled in, another began forming.
It occurred to me that sometimes the subconscious and conscious minds disagree on how to handle matters. Could be that my sub was placing me in a situation wherein eventually having to discuss matters was extremely likely.
That led me to wonder whether there had been more to my feelings about Doris than I cared to admit, which in turn reminded me of what I've told so many other people along the line: "When you can form the question, you have half the answer."
No matter. I wasn't going to discuss a damned thing with anyone after a long drive and having only 3 hours of sleep. I finished up and headed to Farley's lab.
Farley was already there. "You're late," he said flatly. He wasn't referring to the time.
"I'm also tired and cranky and you're obsessive," I said, just as flatly. "I can't be your only reason for being on the payroll, and a month delay won't end the world."
"Shows how little you know. I'll fill you in when Erin arrives. No point in explaining everything twice."
"Oh, I'm fine," I said, "How about you? Nice to see you again, too."
"My social graces are reserved for the deserving. Coffee's ready, so make yourself at home while I finish setting up. Know anything about laser fusion?"
I answered as I poured coffee. "I must have missed that class at Starfleet Academy. I'll bet it has something to do with lasers and fusion, though."
"How cute. Even in a foul mood, he attempts humor. I'll make a note of that."
I held up his mug and said, "Yeah, you do that. Here, hold this."
Farley took his mug and then took a closer look at me and said, "You look distracted as hell. Are you going to be worth a damn today? Would you rather postpone this?"
"Nah, I'm steady enough for target practice. Got nothing better to do, I guess."
"Yeah, you'd do fine as a target, maybe. Want to talk a little, first?"
"No, thanks, Farley, but I think I'd rather we just get on with things."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure. Hi, Erin."
I waved as Erin entered the lab through a side door. She hesitated at the doorway, then came into the room with a slight wave.
Farley pulled up a chair for her at the small table and handed her some papers, instantly forgetting about me and rattling on about the tests he wanted to run.
Erin began to read. After scanning the pages she looked up at Farley and tapped the pile of papers.
"Ed's the subject of all this," she said to Farley, "Why do you need me?"
"I didn't want to make it too easy for him," said Farley.
He was assembling a screen between Erin and me. Once the accordion-style frame opened we could no longer see each other.
"I didn't realize you two knew each other, but we can work around that."
"We don't really know each other..." began Erin, but Farley cut her off.
"Don't worry about trivia. We're going to start with the basics. You'll turn up a symbol card and he'll try to tell me what it is. This videocamera will record everything."
"Farley," I said, "I've already been through this stuff at University of Texas, Dallas. Why not just call them and save some time?"
"I want my own results. I don't know them or their level of competence. Could have been a bunch of students messing around or a real effort. Who knows?"
"I do," I said, "They used cards, objects, pictures, and paragraphs from books. They were skeptical and conscientious. Let's skip the groundwork and go straight to something meaningful."
Farley stood straight and seemed insulted as he asked, "Since when did you become a scientist? What the hell do you know about what's meaningful? You don't even understand what I'm trying to accomplish or why."
Farley's condescending, dismissive tone and attitude irritated me. I watched him turn away and bustle around and only became more irritated.
After a few moments, I answered him.
"Tell you what, Farley. I might understand more if you bothered to discuss things. The fact is I don't much give a lab rat's ass what you're trying to accomplish or why, so fuck your tests. I already know a lot of what I can do."
With that, I rose and headed for the door, saying, "Here's a tip, Farley. Buy yourself some social skills. This lab rat is on permanent sabbatical."
Farley straightened and stared after me for a moment, then shouted, "Sara's not going to like this one damned bit! These tests were her idea!"
I ignored him and waved goodbye at Erin, who was also staring at me. Sara could get with me later if she wanted. I picked up a book at the facility library and headed for my room. I was either going to read or go back to bed.
About halfway to my room I felt a familiar presence behind me and said, "Hi, Sara," as I drifted along.
"How did you know I was here and how did you know it was me and why do you walk when you can float?" she asked from a spot above and behind me.
I stopped and turned to find her lying flat in the air near the high ceiling. She rested her chin on her folded arms as if lying on a bed, her legs crossed at the ankles. Her expression was one of interested amusement.
"You have your own presence," I told her, "A signature. Everybody does. I walk because I've always walked and I'd be noticed if I floated. Flying enhancees are rarities."
"I have my own presence, huh? Can you explain it better than that?"
"Not at the moment. It's just something I do."
Sara let herself drift downward until her face was level with my own.
"So, what did you think of Erin? I think it's great that you two found each other again after so long."
"Erin takes exception to my having been a mercenary. She isn't comfortable with me and she barely said hello in the lab today. I won't count on her company soon, Sara."
Sara gazed at me placidly in silence for a few moments. I gazed back at her and was about to say goodbye and get moving again when she spoke.
"You're really in a rotten mood, aren't you, Ed? Want to talk about things?"
"No, thanks, I don't want to talk about things." I grinned at her. "Besides, with you in the room, how long would I be able to stay on-topic?"
I shouldn't have added the last part. It sounded phony because it was, pure and simple. Sara just looked at me for a moment longer, then said, "Let me know if you change your mind."
She tucked and rolled in mid-air like a swimmer at the wall and headed back the way she'd come without waiting for an answer.
As if to further aggravate me, the door to 319 refused my keycard. I punched the call button and a voice asked the nature of my problem. After explaining, I was told to try it again.
The door lock beeped as the remote controller reset it. It refused my keycard again. The voice then gave me a code to tap into the keypad with my number. No good.
"We can have somebody there in about half an hour," said the voice, "Unless there's an emergency."
"No, there's no emergency," I said, "Take your time and bring a replacement lock."
"Oh, that won't be necessary..." the voice was saying as I ripped the lock off the door.
"Yes, it will," I mumbled, dropping it and reaching into the space it had occupied. I found the red and blue wires and crossed them. The door slid open. I set the controller box in the jamb so that if the door closed I could still get a grip on it and went into my room.
I was stretched out on the bed with my book a few minutes later when a commanding female voice said, "Please stay where you are, sir." It wasn't a request.
The voice belonged to a uniformed guard standing in the doorway. The uniform was Air Force, which made her one of the cadre assigned to the base.
She was about five-ten and looked formidable enough without that Glock pistol in her hands. It wasn't pointing at me, but it wasn't pointing far away from me, either.
"No problem," I said. "I'm pretty comfortable here."
"We're waiting for the Watch Commander," she said, "Those locks are expensive."
"Then the damned things should work properly. Why don't you wait outside? I'll wait in here. Leave the box down there to keep the door from closing all the way."
The woman looked at the box on the floor, then bent to pick up a shard of plastic about two inches long. She placed the shard under the edge of the door and kicked the box out of the doorway.
"Any resistance keeps the door from closing for safety. No need to litter the walkways."
Her radio attached to her epaulet muttered something and she pulled the mike to her face to mutter something back to someone without taking her eyes off me.
A moment later she holstered her Glock and said, "Now I know who you are."
I glanced up at her, shrugged, and said, "Great."
"You're here, but you weren't sent for. You arrived late last night in an old brown Chevy and used a code and callname that nobody but the computer recognized. Your entry authorization came from Sara herself, but no reason for your unannounced visit was given."
She paused as she stepped back to glance down the hallway, then continued, "There's a code letter by your name that means 'do not engage', which means to call Sara if there's a problem."
"Well, by God, you do seem to have a handle on things, ma'am. Why do you suppose that code was placed by my name?"
"I wasn't told and I don't guess."
"Never mind. We both know who put it there and the why of it doesn't matter. Have you actually seen my car or are you just taking someone else's word about it?"
She gave me a slight smile.
"Around here, gossip is usually fairly accurate."
Sara appeared at the door and said, "In this case it is."
She nodded to the guard, who stepped into the hall, then turned to face me.
"Start talking, Ed. What's bothering you?"
"Take the lock out of my next check," I said, "It's money for nothing, anyway, isn't it? It isn't as if I work for it, is it? You ladies have had me in some kind of holding pattern for a couple of years now. On permanent retainer. Always waiting, never called. I'm tired of it, Sara. Play me or let me go."
"Doris said you were becoming difficult. You're bitching about being underemployed, but you turned down a job in the Dallas office. What do you want, Ed?"
"Well, now, a reason to bother getting up in the morning would be a good start. I don't want an office job, Sara. If I did, I'd have had one years ago. When I tried to sign on with Fourth Group, the answer was a flat 'no'. No reason given. When I tried to get with the field units, same answer. Major Phillips was enthusiastic on Wednesday and adamantly against it on Thursday. Why?"
Sara sighed and came over to sit on the end of the bed.
"You aren't a team player, Ed. You'd be a loose cannon on anybody's deck. We can't afford the risk."
"Risk? As in publicity problems if I somehow miss or overlook one or two of the rules?"
"That would be one reason. You tend to shoot from the hip, Ed. You deal with people on a one-to-one basis. This is an organization. Organization members don't make impromptu speeches or go off on their own to deal with things. We're having a hard enough time finding acceptance now that we've gone public. As you said last year, most people see us as deities or devils, but rarely just as people."
She paused, then continued, "Look at the incident at the gas station in Denton. You could have disarmed him and held him for the cops. Instead, he almost died from having a Bic pen shoved through his chest."
"Well, gee, lady, I haven't been bulletproof all my life like you, and I react poorly to being shot at. They'd have arrested him and he'd be out in a few years doing the same damned thing again somewhere. He was a bona fide waste of skin, Sara, and a danger to everyone."
"Didn't you say the same thing about the drunk involved in Erin's wreck?"
"She told you about that, huh? Okay. So what? He was a career drunk driver and a first-class asshole. No loss. This isn't new, Sara. I haven't changed."
"Exactly my point, Ed. You haven't adjusted to your new responsibilities."
It was my turn to sigh.
"Gee. Maybe nobody told me about them when I joined this club. I'm still me, Sara. Enhancement didn't affect my mind that I know of. If I'm such a poor choice, how was it April didn't notice it three years ago?"
"We have to work within the legal system, Ed. We have to work within the legal system. We."
"The system is designed to capture and warehouse rats. The stupidest farmer you'll ever find knows what should be done about rats. The system is a moneymill created to perpetuate the profits of lawyers. Crime thrives because the legal system provides the fertilizer."
"Laws are all that hold civilization together," said Sara.
I snorted at that.
"Simple laws that protect and punish equally build and bind civilizations. Laws drafted in a dead language that require lengthy interpretation simply confuse everybody and provide more employment for lawyers. Early release programs can cut a twenty-year murder sentence down to seven years or less. Someone dies or suffers a painful disability for the rest of his or her life while the one who caused it learns new criminal skills behind bars, then gets released to practice those skills. When they're caught, the lawyers profit again. Lawyers rule the country, Sara. Over eighty percent of all elected and appointed officials have passed the bar somewhere, yet the streets of our glorious civilization aren't safe. Care to comment?"
Sara reiterated, "Without rules, we have nothing, Ed."
I sat up, then stood up.
"Rules without long, nasty teeth are nothing, Sara. We're getting nowhere with all this. Is there something real for me to do? Do I work or do I walk?"
Sara stood and stared at me for a few moments.
"I'll talk with April about it," she said, "Right now I have to meet someone. Can you stick around a few days?"
"I didn't come here with a plan," I said, "I came here to find one or make one."
Sara accepted that as an answer, I guess. She nodded and left the room. I followed her to the door and looked down the hall. My guard was also gone, but the promised door-repairman was approaching.
Something about Sara's parting demeanor set the alarm bells off in my head. I gathered my baggage and stepped into the hall.
As the repairman drew near, I grinned and said, "Rent out my room. I've had a better offer."
The repairman grinned back at me.
"The blonde or the brunette?"
"Classified," I laughed, "But probably only until the news hits the grapevine, right?"
"You got that right. This place is like a damned soap opera sometimes."
As he started working, I began walking toward the main hall's parking area entrance. If Sara really had a lunch meeting and nobody had orders to specifically inform her about my leaving, I might have as much as half an hour to get topside before she found out I was gone.
The automatic doors were triggered open by the approach of my badge. So far, so good. I wondered if I was being unnecessarily paranoid, after all.
I'd left the car doors unlocked as required for safety and inspection reasons and the keys were still in the ignition. I tossed my bags in the back seat and turned the key.
I saw nobody else until I arrived at the big elevator doors. A guard there checked my badge and ID, then led me onto the lift platform and rode up with me.
The exterior blast doors opened and I drove off the lift to nervously wait for the ramp door above to open. A guard there took my badge and had me sign out.
'There are too many doors in this place,' I thought. 'It's taking too damned long to get out of here.'
I checked my watch and found that less than fifteen minutes had passed since Sara had left me in my room. It didn't seem to help to know that.
The overhead sign said, 'Wait for ramp door to open completely', but my front wheels were on the ramp before it was two-thirds open.
The guard had seen impatience often enough to ignore it if a driver wasn't too prematurely on the ramp.
I contained my impulse to rush toward the sunlight above and cruised up the ramp at something near the posted speed limit of five miles per hour.
In my outside rearview mirror I saw the "bat" following me out to take its position above my car.
I seemed to be hearing voices and realized the radio was on. As I neared the surface, more signal was getting to it. At the ramp opening, Mick Jagger was suddenly wailing, "Ah... cain't GET no-o... satisFACshun..."
'What the hell,' I thought, 'He's right.' I left it on.
A few minutes later the "bat" suddenly descended to within a few feet from the front of my car and stayed there. I didn't stop or slow down.
I figured they could hear as well as see me, so I yelled, "Get that goddamned thing away from my car!"
They didn't, of course. It stayed about three feet from my bumper for a little while, then began closing in. They wanted me to stop. Fine.
When it was a foot away, I stopped, but I tried to make it appear that I was checking my left front tire. I reached down and thumped on the tire, then felt along the tread. The "bat" moved to keep me in sight.
I swore a little, kicked the tire, and generally made a minor tantrum of the event, yanking the hubcap off and dramatically tossing it back toward the base while swearing some more.
The "bat" remained only a few feet from me during the entire scene. I got my keys and went to the back of the car, then acted as if I had second thoughts and went to retrieve my hubcap.
The "bat" followed me. When I picked up the hubcap and turned back toward my car, I let the motion continue into a Frisbee toss that nailed the goddamned "bat" smack in its camera "eye".
The hubcap couldn't damage the "bat", but I hoped that whoever was linked into the "bat" back in the control room had wet himself. Or herself.
I leaped to get my arms around it. There were two small lenses covering access apertures on its topside. I drove my fingers into them and tore a chunk out of the side of the bat, then yanked a handful of wires out as well, not knowing what they were for.
The bat plummeted to the ground and lay still except for the nose camera eye. I kicked it once and walked back to my car with my dented hubcap, which I tossed on the passenger side floor.
At about forty, the road wasn't too rough. There was no point in hurrying. They could send another "bat" or worse if they intended to forcibly stop me. My old Chevy was no match for their toys.
As if out of nowhere Sara appeared alongside me, standing upright and flying sideways as she stared in at me. She swept her hair from her face and said nothing.
"Are you going to hover two feet from my bumper, too?" I asked her.
"That's their normal procedure to force a vehicle to slow and stop. My methods are a lot more direct. They aren't happy about the broken bat."
"We're close to Roswell. They can write it up as an encounter with a flying saucer."
"Why are you running, Ed?"
"Running? I'm only doing forty. You were about to lock me in down there, Sara."
"What makes you think that? Why would I do that?"
"I know what I picked up as you left the room, Sara. There's no doubt in my mind that you definitely considered slamming the doors on me."
Sara drifted alongside in silence for a moment before answering.
"Yes, I did. I was angry, and I thought, 'I ought to lock his ass up 'till April can get here'. I wasn't serious, Ed."
"You felt serious enough to me."
"Obviously so. Has it occurred to you that you captured that thought from me without being in contact?"
"It happens now and then with some people. Sometimes with animals, too, but not as thoughts formed of words, of course. Wait, that isn't wholly true. Sandy's cat knows some words and mixes them into her envisionments as sounds. That's how animals think, Sara. In flashes of envisionments. If a dish is empty, they envision it being filled and make noise about it until we grasp the concept and fulfill their envisionment. It's all cause and effect to them. Heh. They must think we're rather stupid."
Sara stared at me for another moment before speaking again.
"We need to talk, Ed. Will you stop for me?"
"Nope. I may not know where I'm going, but I'm not stopping till I get there."
Sara pointed into the car. "Do you mind if I ride along for a while, then? It's dusty out here."
I waved at the passenger seat. "It's dusty in here, too, but suit yourself."
Chapter Three
She could have just opened the door and drifted into the car. Instead, I watched as Sara slithered in through the passenger door window in a cascade of long legs and fine skin. She glanced at me with a small smile as she settled herself and ran her fingers through her hair.
I flicked my eyebrows at her. 'Yeah, lady, I'm watching,' I thought, 'You're quite a show.'
Sara made a production of dusting herself off, finishing by giving her uniform -- not much more than a series of straps -- a quick snap here and there before looking across at me.
"Not a hair out of place. As lovely as ever," I said.
Sara gave me a wry grin and slowly put first one foot, then the other, on the dash. I watched her long legs unfold, as was expected of me.
A slight odor of wildflowers began to permeate the car. Uh, huh. First the look, then the smell. I held up a finger and shook it in a "No-no" manner.
"Turn off the perfume, Sara. I don't feel like being enslaved today."
"You don't think..?" Sara gave me an apparently real look of startled innocence.
"I do think. That's actually the problem at the moment, isn't it? The way I have trouble going along with the program? Pheromones could fix that little problem for now, couldn't they?"
She growled, "How would you like a swat in the teeth for that remark?"
"It wouldn't change my mind. Bad timing, Sara. I'm not in the mood to play today."
"Just like the last time I offered, when you broke up with April. You just never seem to be in the mood for me, do you?"
"As I said, bad timing. Try vamping me while I'm in a good mood sometime."
"Would it work?" she asked, "Or is there something about me you just don't like?"
I drove in silence for a moment before speaking.
"You're more beautiful than a woman has any right to be, Sara. Don't ever worry about your looks."
Her gaze didn't change in the slightest.
"That didn't answer my question."
I looked at her.
"I'd rather not have to try to explain it, Sara."
"Oh, but please do," she said in a sardonic tone, "I think I'd be entertained to hear you at least try, since you once told April we're all pretty much alike."
I drove in silence for a while, trying to find a way to put it in words. Sara's hand slapped the seatback between us.
"Well?" she prompted.
"Well, for one thing, it would be a one-way street," I said, "I don't think you could seriously reciprocate affection. I've met a few of your lovers, Sara. You haven't had more than two or three months with any of them, male or female, and the feelings I've received from them indicate that they remember you more as an event or an ordeal than as a person."
Her look made me wonder if she really would hit me, but I continued, "They came away feeling as if they'd just been serving your needs for a while. I need a bit more than that from a woman. April's the only lover you've ever had who's been with you longer than a few months, and that's probably because you two only get together now and then to really vent each other off."
Sara remained sprawled in the seat. She was quiet for a time, then said, "I've heard you call yourself April's shower toy. She said you seemed to live for pleasing her, yet you managed to switch to Doris easily enough when you and April broke up, and now you're free again. How would being with me be different from what you had with them? They didn't last forever, either, so what's keeping you from being my shower toy for a while?"
"We wouldn't get along, Sara. You have to be in total control without questions. I don't mean that you won't listen to a suggestion from a co-worker or an advisor. I do mean that you have to have final say on all matters, business or personal, every time and all the time. You'd want to know where I was every moment, and I'd have to check in somehow or face your disapproval. If you had fifteen minutes to spare and an itch to scratch I'd be expected to drop everything and be there to scratch it for you. We wouldn't last two weeks."
"You're so goddamned sure about all that? You won't even consider it?"
"I have considered it. Believe me, I consider it again every time I look at you, Sara."
"If all that's true, how come April and I have been together so long?"
"You're equals. Neither can control the other and each of you is the best the other can find as a companion here. You share a cause and back each other up in battle and you don't spend every day and night together, so you don't get tired of each other. You -- if not April -- consider people like me to be accessories or peripherals or maybe even fun friends at best. Useful companions, maybe."
"You're saying that April has all the personality in the family? Is that it?"
"She has a different personality, Sara. One I managed to get along with for a while."
"What about Doris? You were about equal with her, but here you are."
"Doris wants a regular married life. She always has, really. I was an interesting diversion."
"So? All I want is a diversion, too. What's the difference?"
We were approaching the road and the gas station. I pulled up to the old-style self-serve pumps and pulled the hood release.
"Want a coke?" I asked.
"I want a good answer," said Sara. She radiated hostility and made no move to get out of the car. "And I'm not going anywhere until I get one."
"Suit yourself, then."
I checked the fluids and belts, squeezed the radiator hoses, and filled the tank. The tires looked fine, so I went in to pay for the gas.
The guy inside was on the phone as I grabbed a six of beer, a six of Dr Pepper, and some munchies.
He was reporting in about his immediate customer, me. He set the phone down as I approached the counter and paid the tab. My car radio blared suddenly.
When we looked out, Sara was looking back at us, slapping her hand thunderingly on the car's roof in time to the music. She made a face and stuck her tongue out at me. I sighed.
"You know who that woman is, don't you?"
The clerk nodded a 'yes'.
"Have you ever met her?"
He shook his head 'no'.
"Would you like to meet her?"
He looked out the window and seemed to think about it a moment before finally shaking his head 'no' again.
Sara's face changed to one of shock. She'd heard my question and seen his answer.
"You may be smarter than I am, then," I said, "I can't seem to make her get out of my car."
The clerk finally spoke, grinning as he said, "Damned if I know why. Most women I've known wouldn't be caught dead in that thing."
Sara laughed. She'd heard that, too.
"You've been such a help," I said, "Keep the change for your trouble."
The clerk looked at the countertop. "Huh? There isn't any change."
"That's right," I said as I stepped into the outside heat, "There isn't. See ya."
I put the goodies in my cooler except for one Dr Pepper and started the car without comment.
Sara stared straight ahead as she said, "I'm still waiting for that answer."
"You already have it. You just want a different answer, and I don't have one of those. That clerk turned down a chance to meet you, Sara. You must have one helluva reputation of some sort around the base. That guy would never say it to your face, but he didn't want to meet his own gorgeous boss."
She glared at me as I nosed the car out to the road.
"Stop the car," she said.
I stopped the Malibu. Sara got out and slammed the door hard enough to rock the car. I waited to see if she had anything else to say. She continued glaring at me for a moment, then lifted away in the direction of the base.
Sitting at the edge of the road for a few moments, I considered which way to go. There were too many miles to nowhere without reason to go there in just about every possible direction.
Albuquerque, Denver, Phoenix; no interest. At last I just headed the Malibu back toward Dallas.
The west coast I'd visited in the sixties no longer existed. It died with the revolution that never got off the ground back then, and the L.A. I'd seen on my last visit hadn't appealed to me.
Been to the mountains. Been to the seas and beaches. Seen everything between them. Europe? They'd had over twenty years to change the place since I'd seen it.
If I was going to travel, I reasoned, it should be to someplace I hadn't already visited or wanted to revisit. No such place came to mind.
I'd seen the US and Canada and most of Mexico was a third-world armpit best left to the Mexicans. Mindless travel wasn't the answer. I headed back to Dallas for lack of a better idea at the moment.
Only a few miles beyond Brownfield, Texas, I saw a late-model Ford on the side of US-380 with its hood up. A man was leaning into the engine compartment and a woman was leaning against the driver's door. I pulled up ahead of the Ford to see if I could help.
The man only glanced up as I approached, but the woman peeled herself off the car and started chattering about how nice it was that someone would stop.
She was wearing white shorts, heels, and a shimmering tube top. Big boobs, once nicely-shaped legs now starting to dimple with cellulite and sloth. Cheap and flashy.
The man was dressed in jeans, boots, and a work shirt. His clothes were the exact opposite of hers; dull and dirty. As she yammered on I angled my approach away from her and toward the front of the car.
When I was within a few feet, he looked at her, then at me as he reached under his shirt. I heard him draw the hammer back, then the revolver appeared in his right hand, pointed at my chest.
"Easy," I said, raising my hands slightly, "I just stopped to see if I could help."
The guy laughed. So did the woman.
"Sure, you can help, honey," she said, "Give us your keys and your money. That'll help a lot."
"You heard her," said the man, "Move it. We ain't got all damned day."
"Yeah," I said, stepping closer, "You're right. You don't. If you're going to pull that trigger, you better do it while you can, asshole."
He didn't say anything. He just pulled the trigger. Instead of tearing into my chest as he'd expected, the bullet whined off into the brush.
I separated the gun from his hand as he stared at me in surprise and then backhanded him in the face with my left hand.
He fell back against the car before sliding to the ground. The woman was screeching at me as she aimed a small semiautomatic pistol at my chest. I waited to see if she'd fire. She did. Twice. I fired back once.
The round caught her in the chest and shoved her back. She stared at me as her knees failed her, then she fell sideways and lay still.
I wiped the revolver well with the guy's shirttails and wrapped his hand firmly around it. The little automatic was still in the woman's hand, so I just aimed her hand at the man's sternum and moved her finger twice.
The guy jerked and lay still. Neither of them had a pulse when I checked. I took off my bullet-damaged shirt and tossed it in the back seat of my car, then set the cooler on top of it and tossed a fresh shirt onto the front seat.
It's a farm community out that way, but not far enough removed to be safe for shooting, so someone reported the shots and someone else called in about two people lying next to a car. The cops showed up pretty quickly and eventually decided that it had been a roadside altercation. They wrote it up as they saw it.
I told them only that I'd stopped to see if I could help and then hadn't thought it would be smart to leave until the cops showed up, especially with guns lying around.
They agreed. Notes were taken and I was allowed to continue after about two hours of not telling them anything I hadn't already told them.
On the way back to Dallas, a plan of sorts began to form in my mind. I remembered how Doris had been using her enhancement when we'd met. She would show her badge, let the bad guy take a shot, then drop him. Two rounds each, just to be sure he didn't waste taxpayer money with hospitalization, a trial, and jail time.
Her office nicknames had been 'Dirty Harriet' and 'Tap-Tap'. This hadn't been a problem for me, but it had been for April and Sara.
Doris hadn't seen any street duty since joining April's organization, and nobody dared to use her old cop-issue nicknames in her new office. I decided to study street crime a bit and maybe take up a new hobby.
Chapter Four
The phone was ringing as I turned the key in my barn-apartment door. I ignored it and carried my bags in, then grabbed my fishing pole and the cooler and headed out to the pier for a while.
In the gathering dark the stars were beginning to appear. It occurred to me that they'd be good, quiet company. I flicked on the bug zapper that hangs over the end of the pier to provide chum and settled into a deck chair to bait a hook.
I'd barely gotten my line wet when I felt April's presence approaching. Without turning, I held up an unopened beer and waited. Only a few moments later a rush of air and a slight thump on the wooden deck announced her arrival behind my chair.
April took the beer from my hand as she landed and opened it as she went to sit in the other deck chair. She was in uniform, a few strategic straps of that tough stuff there's so little of for some reason that had never been made clear to me. I watched her carefully place her lovely self in the chair.
"It still bugs me," she said, "The way you know when someone is around. I was a mile up and two miles out when you lifted that beer. You had plenty of time to open it for me, too, by the way. Your name popped up in Brownfield today, Ed. What happened out there?"
"The cops wrote it up," I said, "And their version will do just fine. And names don't just pop up in your offices unless they're on flag lists. What brings you out here, April? A call from Sara?"
"That, too. She's worried about you and I thought you might need a friend, Ed."
I smiled at her.
"You already have that position, April, and Sara's not worried about anything or anyone not directly under her command and control."
Something small nibbled the bait. I checked it and tossed it back in the water.
"Why won't you talk to me, Ed? Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"
"Everydamnbody thinks I need to talk, April. Doesn't anyone realize that people just naturally feel a little down after a breakup? It goes away after a while."
"You weren't like this when we broke up last year."
"I didn't really lose you and I got roped into Doris's world the very next day."
"I thought that's why you went to New Mexico. I also thought you were finally going to nail Sara. She thought so, too, you know."
"I know. Nope. No Sara. Probably never will be anything between us."
"She says you don't like her. I find that hard to believe."
"I like her fine at our present distance. I don't think I'd like having her around much."
"That's hard to believe, too," April grinned, "People say she's kind of pretty."
"Oh, that she is, but believe it. She's not my type. I know she told you what happened."
"She didn't say much, really. She said you left in a hurry and did some damage."
"That's all?"
"Well, she did say you felt underemployed, too."
"There's more to it," I said, "You sure you don't want her version first?"
April didn't answer that. Something attacked my bait, so I gave it time to spit the hook out and pulled the line in. I didn't really want to deal with catching fish just then, anyway. I sipped my beer and let my eyes wander the length of April's legs in silence. When I looked up, she was looking back at me.
"There's nothing out here better to look at," I said.
April continued to gaze at me for a second, then waggled her empty bottle. I handed her another beer and got one for myself. She seemed to be considering something in her silence. I waited.
"How come you don't use fishing lures?" asked April.
"Heh. More lures are sold to fishermen than to fish," I said, "But bait works."
"Good point," she said. At length she quietly asked, "Do you love Doris, Ed?"
"After a friendly fashion, yes. Not enough to try to be what she wanted, though."
"You're so sure about that?"
"Yup. Sure enough to let her go so she can look for a man who can and will."
April stared at her beer for a moment.
"You're sure you aren't just afraid to let yourself get locked into something?"
I grinned wryly at her. "Damned right I'm afraid of getting locked into something like that. She wants kids. She wants a normal family life, April. No way I'd sign up for that and I couldn't give her kids anyway, you know that. She was talking about adopting at one point."
April didn't comment on that. We'd been through that discussion years ago when I'd asked if my enhancement would treat my vasectomy as an injury and force regrowth. She hadn't known that I'd had one and had been fairly startled by the news.
"Ed, Sara says she thinks you're still hung up on me, too. Is that true?"
"Without a doubt, April, but it didn't stop me from caring about Doris, too."
April considered matters for a moment.
"So it's a given that you can share yourself. How come you won't give Sara a tumble?"
I sighed and said, "I think it's because down deep I don't really like her enough. And when I see Sara I think of you. I can just imagine how she'd react if I used your name while I was in the sack with her."
Shaking my head with a grin, I said, "Uh, uh. No. If she didn't kill me on the spot, it would still create hard feelings all around."
April grinned. "Yeah, and some of them would come from your bruises. She wouldn't kill you, Ed, but you're right. It probably could cause some bad feelings."
"Not probably. Definitely. And not 'could'. It would cause hard feelings." I sipped my beer and asked, "Tell me, when you talked to her, was she despondent or pissed?"
April nodded and said, "I see where you're going. She was pissed off."
"Right. The one that got away. That's all it's really about with her. She hates losing."
There was a presence behind my chair. I dangled a hand and wiggled my fingers.
"Hello, Stephanie," I said as the big white cat's head filled my hand.
She let me ruffle her chin and ears a moment before majestically striding over to April for more.
April obliged her until Stephanie went to sniff at my fishing rod.
She sat down, looked directly at me, and said, "Yah."
"Okay, just for you, Steph," I said, baiting the hook and tossing the line in.
Stephanie had supervised my fishing before. She sat near the edge of the pier and watched the float intently until it bobbed, then stood up and yelled back at me to make sure I was paying attention.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," I said, hauling in an unlucky crappie and dehooking it.
Stephanie sat down and waited for her present. When I handed it down to her, she put her paw on my hand for a moment, then took the fish in her mouth and ran like hell to get off the dock with her prize.
"She lost a few back to the water when she was a kitten," I said, "Now she takes no chances."
April laughed. "That's quite a little ritual you two have worked out. It looked as if she was thanking you before she took the fish."
"When she put her paw on my hand? Big cats do that, too. I once gave a lioness a drink from my truck's cooler in Kenya. I was sitting on the tailgate taking a break from fence repair. My assistant was in the cab, frantically rolling the windows up."
I stuck the hook behind the reel handle and set the rod aside, then sipped my beer as April waited.
"That's when this old lioness came around back of the truck. We were surprised to see each other, and I really had nowhere to go, so I let some water out of the cooler to trickle onto the tailgate and flicked it around a little to distract her. She sniffed the ground where it fell and then licked the tailgate, so I filled my helmet and held it out for her. She sniffed at the cold water, then sat down and put her paw on my knee before she started drinking. I filled it again and she put her paw on my leg again before drinking. When I didn't fill it a third time, she said something and ambled away."
"She said something?" asked April.
"Yeah. She looked at me and said something. The next day I saw her again with a couple of other lions as we were driving along the fenceline. About two miles later, we stopped to fix the fence stays where something had clambered over it. I was putting my tools in the back of the truck when she announced her arrival a few yards behind me. My assistant was over by the fence, petrified. I pulled the cooler to the tailgate, sat next to it, and filled my helmet for her. She sat, put a paw on my leg, then drank, just like the day before. Two helmets of water later she went on her way with another look and sound. She apparently figured that two helmets-full were all there were. She joined the other lions up the hill and we continued along the fenceline."
I took a moment to hand April one of the last two beers in the cooler.
"My assistant quit working with me that evening, but the story got around. The next morning, the only guy who seemed available to ride with me was a brand-new trainee who apparently hadn't been told about the lion. The other guys were laughing and giggling like idiots, and the guy obviously thought something wasn't right, but he got in the truck. I didn't think it was fair, so I had the guy at the gate tell the kid what the laughs were about."
I grinned as I sipped my beer again.
"Well, he looked back at the others, then turned forward on the seat, straightened up, and said, "We go now." He met the old lioness. After that day, he rode with me every day and made sure there was an extra cooler in the back, saying that she might someday arrive with a friend. I kind of doubted that. It was too personal an arrangement, and cats don't share well. He'd watch for her along the road, excited as a little kid. He took great pride in being assistant to the 'lion friend white man' and let the others know it at every opportunity."
April smiled and sipped her beer, probably imagining the guy bouncing on the seat and yelling, "There she is!" like an excitable ten-year-old.
"Anyway," I concluded, "When I left he took over the truck and that part of the fence run because he was afraid that someone else might shoot her."
"Someone probably would have," said April.
"Very likely."
The conversation fell into a lull until we'd finished our beers. April handed me her empty bottle and stood up.
"I have to meet someone," she said, "Or I'd stay."
I stood up, too, and put my arms around her.
"No sweat. Drop by when you can."
She kissed me and I kissed her back, then she was gone into the sky. I gathered my gear and walked back, carefully stepping around Stephanie, who was still working on her fish at the drier end of the pier.
A couple of the other cats had parked themselves at a distance to wait their turn. Stephanie growled occasionally to remind them to stay back.
She wasn't sharing; they'd have to take what she left for them. Lionesses come in many sizes and colors.
One of the pier rail supports was loose. After putting my fishing gear away, I went to the barn for a hammer and some nails and headed back out to the pier.
I heard the ruckus before I could see it. As I approached, I saw Stephanie and one of the other cats facing off against a good-sized snake, a water moccasin.
It was only about three feet long, so it probably only wanted to scare them away from what was left of the fish, but the two cats weren't backing down.
Water moccasin bites can kill small animals and small people. While one of the cats was likely to kill or injure the snake, the other would almost certainly be bitten.
I tossed the hammer at the snake. It struck at the hammer, causing both cats to jump back, and then it turned back to the fish. When I reached for the snake, it struck at me.
One fang snapped against my skin. I got a grip on the snake and twisted its head off, then tossed the parts back in the pond and kicked the fish a considerable distance toward the barn.
Both cats were after it in an instant. I picked up the hammer and continued to the rail.
Brenda left the house and approached.
"You could have just scared the snake away, Ed," she said, "You didn't have to kill it."
"A three-foot snake can kill and eat a cat. I prefer cats to snakes. The snake was a cottonmouth and would have nailed something or someone sooner or later."
"They call them water snakes for a reason. They don't leave the water much."
I grinned and looked askance at her. "That one did."
"I still don't think..." began Brenda.
I interrupted her.
"Exactly," I said, "None of you nature-huggers really knows spit about nature, but you automatically assume that the lives of everything are sacred, somehow. Got news for you, Brenda. If life were truly sacred, there'd be no death in the world. There'd be no food chain and no danger to any living thing from any other living thing. It would be a fluffy world full of warm fuzzy feelings all the time. But it isn't. If you don't kill the predators, they keep hunting for the easy marks. If I humanely let them go, they would inhumanely come back and kill and eat my little fuzzy friends. So I don't let them go."
Brenda stared at me in shock at my outburst.
"Sorry," I said, "I'm in some kind of a mood lately."
"I can see that," said Brenda. Her tone was neutral. "What's happened?"
"Nothing in particular and a number of things in general. It's too vague to describe."
"Try," said Brenda. Her tone was no longer neutral. It was almost an order.
I considered matters a moment.
"Okay. We choose our friends -- and enemies -- by making conscious or unconscious decisions based on the value or risk inherent in others, be they animal or human. In other words, we choose sides in a general sense, usually early in life, based on little more than the reasons that motivate any other creatures to associate with or avoid each other. In that sense, it may be said that all the world is a jungle."
I worked on the rail as I spoke, driving the current nail in with one swat of the hammer before continuing.
"The supposed difference between humans and other animals is proven to be slight every time there's a conflict of any sort. Humans, without even decent teeth or claws, have come to dominate the living world because they've risen to the top of the food chain."
I glanced at Brenda.
"This means, ma'am, that humans have learned how to be the most dangerous animals on the planet, and all that has become part of our bloody genetic heritage. It's like steam bottled up inside us. Society and religion are the controls we've invented to keep us from ravaging each other, but both are faulty systems at best."
"A wonderful speech, so far," said Brenda, "And I can actually agree with much of it. But where is it going that will explain why you're in such a crappy mood?"
"I'm getting to that," I said. "You know a bit of my past. On a number of occasions, various rulemakers here and there have hired me and people like me to circumvent their own rules in order to eliminate others who also operated outside the rules but lacked authorization to do so. I liked it out there beyond the rules. Things got done, quickly and effectively. I tried working with April and Doris, too, but they spend half their time in court defending their labors on behalf of society's security to the very society they're trying to protect. It drove me nuts, especially when eleven pounds of crack, already bagged for resale, couldn't be considered as evidence in one particular case due to a technicality. We found it while searching for something else and somebody mishandled it, contaminating it as evidence. The crack belonged to a major local dealer called 'Black Ice' who runs a temporary labor business as a front. He was back on the street in two days, demanding an apology."
"I remember. You were saying essentially the same things the day you left the job."
"Yup. The lawyers and politicians have made everything a game, complete with 'get out of jail' cards. We accidentally caught a pusher dead to rights and he walked because someone left one fingerprint on one baggie. That's absolute bullshit."
Brenda said, "There had to be more to it than that, Ed."
"Oh, there was, but that's the essence of it. Ask April. Ask Doris. Anyway, the daughter of one of our key people wound up near death from a heroin overdose a few weeks later. She was only fifteen. She'd been taken after school on a Friday and not seen again for two weeks. They dosed her daily, forced her to do things and filmed her doing them, and then delivered copies of the film to her father and our offices before letting the girl go. It was blatantly obvious revenge, and they were careful. She couldn't or wouldn't identify anyone. There was no useable evidence, so nobody could legally do a damned thing about it. Doris was with the girl and her father during much of her recovery. I think that had a lot to do with her sudden desire to settle down, because it wasn't long after that when Doris began badgering me about changes."
"I didn't know about all that, but we still aren't quite there yet," said Brenda, "You seemed fine last week. This week you're like a bear with a sore tooth. What triggered you off?"
"I can't tell you that. Maybe the breakup with Doris just made the pile topple over."
"The last straw, huh? Well, maybe so. Now what?"
"I can't tell you that, either," I said.
Brenda peered at me in the dim light.
"Can't? Or won't?"
"Does it matter?"
"That depends, Ed. Are you planning something?"
"Not precisely. I've been enhanced. I'm damn near injury-proof. I could wander in as bait and let them shoot at me, then the cops could bust them. Not really much of a plan."
"If someone shoots at you, they can jail him for attempted murder. It could be enough of a plan to put him and some of his friends in prison."
"Maybe," I said, "If nobody decides to call it entrapment or something."
"You aren't a cop. You aren't working for cops. How could it be called entrapment?"
I laughed. "If it's at all possible, a lawyer will find a way. I'll be honest with you as always, Brenda. I'd prefer just to call it self-defense if the opportunity arises to do so."
Brenda was silent for a moment. "So you're not really interested in letting the legal system handle them? That could wind up putting you in prison instead of them."
"Not necessarily. Can we leave it at that? You're listening to me as a friend, to see if you can be of help somehow, but you don't really want to hear this sort of thing, Brenda. You can't help me, really, and this sort of talk is distasteful to you."
Brenda poked a finger into my chest. "Ed, you're talking about becoming a vigilante. The law treats vigilantes as criminals, and you know that. If you're caught..."
"Caught at what? Being in the wrong place at the wrong time and having to defend myself? Having a politically-incorrect attitude about the results of the encounter?"
It was too dark to read her face, but I could feel Brenda glowering.
"You're right," she said, "I don't want to hear anymore. You've already made up your mind, anyway."
Before I could say anything, she spun on her heel and marched back to the house. I hadn't expected her to accept or endorse my views, but I'd thought she might at least have understood them to some degree. I gathered the hammer and nails and headed back to my apartment.
My phone was ringing as I arrived. It felt like Brenda, so I picked it up. A glance back at the house showed her backlit silhouette on the window blind.
I answered the phone with, "Hello, Brenda." There was silence for a moment.
"How the hell do you do that?" she asked softly, then, without waiting for my usual vague answer, she continued, "I don't want the farm used as a base of operations for what you're planning, Ed. I don't want anyone coming here looking for you, cops or otherwise."
I heard the tremor in her voice. "Okay," I said.
After a moment, she said, "It would just be too damned much for me, Ed."
"I said it was okay, Brenda. I understand you perfectly."
After a hesitant attempt to say something else, she settled for, "Okay, then. I just had to tell you that," and hung up.
Chapter Five
A month went by uneventfully. April apparently spoke to Sara because the next time I saw Sara she was a bit standoffish but otherwise civil to me.
I shopped for a new place to live that didn't have neighbors too nearby and finally found one.
The rather dilapidated old farmhouse had been one of the safehouses shared by several law-enforcement agencies for close to two decades from the sixties to the eighties.
It had been compromised due to a too-diligent local reporter whose only concern had been a career-making story.
Because of him four people had died; two cops and their two charges. The reporter's dreams ended with their lives and the beginning of his own prison term.
Nobody had used the house or lived in it for close to a decade and the lack of care showed. It had passed into the hands of a development speculator who was using it as a tax-drop until he could arrange zoning changes that would allow condos.
I rented the house for damned near nothing and put in change of address notices that afternoon on the way to the hardware store.
Eight cans of paint and various repairs improved the place enough to keep my stuff dry, so I rented a small trailer and moved in Sunday afternoon.
April, Sara, and Doris dropped in out of the blue, so to speak, as I was finishing unloading the trailer.
"Hello, ladies. I see you managed to find the place."
"Wow, whatta deal," said April, looking the house over critically, "Fixer-upper is an understatement. You should have said something, Ed. We'd have helped you."
"I needed something to do," I said.
Doris looked around inside the house and said, "There's still a lot of cleaning to be done. Want some help with that?"
"No, I'll get to it when I get to it. Thanks, anyway."
"So!" said Sara, clapping her hands lightly, "When's the housewarming party?"
I looked at her for a moment. "This is it," I said, "I think there's still a beer in the fridge."
There was a measure of silence. The ladies glanced at each other as I continued to sweep out the trailer. Sara was the first to lose patience.
"Well, I guess I'll head back, then," she said, "I'll see everybody later." An instant later she was gone.
Doris and April were looking at me oddly. I stopped what I was doing and looked back at them. "What?" I asked.
"Is it that you don't really want any company, or that you don't want our company?" asked April, "If you'd rather be alone, just say so. We'll leave."
"Okay, I'll admit it. I'd rather be alone. It has nothing to do with you, I just don't want company for a while. Thanks for coming by, though."
Doris stepped forward a pace as if to reach for my hand, but stopped short.
"Is it me?" she asked softly, "If I weren't here...?"
"If you weren't here, you'd probably just be someplace else," I said with a small grin, "No, Doris. It isn't about your being here. I just want some time completely to myself."
Doris didn't seem convinced, but April said, "Okay, then. Let us know if you need anything."
I looked at April and said, "Thanks, April, I'm just looking for some solitude. I have to work it out myself."
Doris looked as if she wanted to say or ask more, but April touched her arm and said softly, "We should go now, Doris."
After a moment, Doris nodded and stepped backward into April's embrace for the ride home, or wherever they were going.
Doris, although enhanced, isn't able to levitate. It used to bug the hell out of her that I could lift off with up to about seven tons of extra baggage, even if I couldn't make anything close to the speeds of which April and Sara were capable in flight.
At least Doris had gotten over her aversion to being touched by April. That was a major step for her. The ladies lifted off and were soon out of sight.
Monday I cruised the area within a couple of blocks of Black Ice's domain and immediately found an ideal excuse to be in the neighborhood fairly frequently. There was a scrap yard only a block away from Black Ice's digs.
I stopped in to see if the yard could lay hands on some parts for a 1980-84 Chevy Malibu Classic. They had a couple of cars in the back that shared some of the same parts. The guy told me that I could save some money if I pulled my own parts. I said that would be fine.
He said I'd have to use my own tools, too, but that if I needed a little help here and there it wouldn't be a problem. I said that would be fine, too.
I bought a couple of tires so I'd have a dated receipt and made a list of the parts I'd be harvesting first on the back of the receipt.
The receipts for each purchase would establish my purpose in the area. They'd show that I was obviously finally getting around to doing something about my car.
I made two more trips to the yard that week, each time purchasing some kind of small something so there'd be a dated receipt.
On Thursday I walked to the burger place on the corner for lunch and sat leafing through a shop manual for half an hour, trying to ignore the almost deafening noise of rap "music" emanating from stereo systems worth more than the cars in which they were installed.
I was one of the very few white faces in the lunch crowd, and as expected, I was noticed and eventually recognized. A guy peeled himself out of the line and nearly ran to the outside phone.
It was rather funny when he had to threaten some other guy in a nearby car to get him to turn the noise down. Within a few minutes two faces familiar to me from the bust and the courtroom cruised the parking lot to verify the guy's story.
As soon as I was sure they'd had a good look, I closed the shop manual and began walking back to the scrap yard. They followed at a distance in the same car.
While I was swapping out my old alternator for a much more powerful one from an ambulance, a couple of guys came in to look around for something.
One of them rummaged through various cars nearby, but the other one seemed interested only in me.
When I left the yard, another car with two guys and a massive sound system in it followed me all the way back to the farm, driving past my gate after I'd turned in.
Couldn't miss 'em. They never turned the thumping noise down. A few minutes later, I heard them go back the way they'd come.
Black Ice would find out that I was no longer with the cops by nightfall if he didn't already know. He'd have someone jolly the info out of the yard guy that I was fixing my car piece by piece.
Ice had proven himself a rather vengeful type, so it was likely that he'd try something once he was sure I wasn't bait in some kind of a police trap.
Monday I went to the yard again, this time for a bigger radiator. The Malibu has a V-6 with air conditioning. I suggested that the cooling system from a V-8 might be a fine idea and the yard guy, of course, agreed.
He sent out for new hoses while I swapped out the radiators. I wound up with an hour-long wait for the hoses, as expected, so I went back to the burger place for an early lunch.
As I walked through the parking lot a ten-year-old white Cadillac with gold trim backed out of a slot just as I walked beyond it. It moved fast, and I was supposed to be shaken up, I guess.
I just looked at the driver's malevolently-staring face and gave him a little 'dust-off' sign I'd seen the locals using. It's a quick flicking of the fingers at the shoulder, as if there's something needing removed. I might as well have given him the finger. He jumped out of the car.
"Yo, yo, yo, Muthafucka!" he yelled, "Why you bringin' yo whitey ass to my hood?"
"You ought to know. You and your buddies have been following me so closely I'd have broken your noses if I'd turned too quick."
"Whatchoo sayin? Do what?" He was still yelling. He wanted an audience. People were drifting over to check out the noise. "Whatchoo just call me? A niggah? You done called me a niggah?" He waved at a couple of guys nearby, "You hear that?"
It was the usual 'set-up-the-whitey' crap and everybody knew it, but they played along, adding their own comments and laughing. It was free entertainment.
I wondered how many other whites and people of other races he'd pulled this crap on. The two guys came over and stood behind and beside me with stern faces while Dumbo kept up his loud patter.
It was time to put a lid on him and the situation. I looked at the gaudy Caddy. It was obviously his pride and joy in life, so I spit through the window onto the driver's seat.
He screeched and came at me with his right. I stepped in and under it and slammed an elbow into his right kidney. He straightened and froze for a moment in agony.
I spun him around and drove my right fist into his gut hard enough to lift him off the ground, then smashed his nose flat and nailed him hard on the jaw in two quick punches.
His head snapped back hard and he stood there stunned. I put one more on his chin and he went down on his back, his head bouncing on the pavement. He was out.
I turned to face the guys behind me.
"Was that a fair fight? Did he come at me first? Can I go get my goddamned lunch now?"
I yelled the questions at the small crowd before they could recover from seeing the guy knocked flat. Taking a few steps back and forth along the edge of the crowd, all I received were a few nods and one "Day-yum!" from a guy who was still staring at the guy on the ground.
Ultimately, it wouldn't matter a fat damn that he had attacked me. What people would be hearing later would be that a white guy had beaten up a black guy.
I went in, placed an order, then went to wash up in the filthy bathroom. When I came out, a uniformed white cop was standing near the counter.
His black partner was in the parking lot, talking with the Caddy driver while surrounded by people who all seemed to have an opinion about what had happened. The cop looked at me and shook his head.
"We already know what happened. We saw it from over there." He pointed to the stoplights at the end of the block. "It's amazing how many versions there are already, though."
"Am I being arrested?" I asked, "That guy attacked me. I just defended myself."
"I told you we saw what happened. We let him know we saw it, too. We just think it might be better if you accepted a ride to somewhere else. Anywhere else."
I went to the counter to pick up my order. The manager held up a bag as I approached.
"No charge," he said in a lilting Jamaican accent, "That mon be just a troublemaking asshole. But it might be so very better if you didn't hang around here too long, so I took the small liberty of making your order to go."
"Thanks, I guess," I said. I turned to the cop. "Might as well accept that ride."
The cop took my elbow, making it seem as if he was leading me away. Some of the people in the crowd appeared unconcerned while others were glaring at me.
Still others gave me the furtive little smiles of the downtrodden who have seen a bully get what was coming to him, but know better than to say anything that might mark them for future attention.
Someone tried to trip me near the door, but the cop urged me on. He said that riots start over little things that become blown out of proportion.
As we walked past the Caddy, the driver gave me a glare, but said nothing because the black cop had a hand on the guy's shoulder. The black cop said something to him and watched him drive away before coming over to the police car.
He scanned the crowd briefly and said, "It's all over. Anybody here who doesn't believe that?"
The crowd began dispersing and the black cop got in the car. He radioed in before he turned to me and asked, "What-the-fuck-did-you-think-you-were-doing? What the hell are you doing in this part of town, anyway? You almost caused a riot! Lemme see some ID! Now!"
I gazed steadily back at him.
"Don't come at me like a drill sergeant or I'll get out and walk. I'm getting my car fixed down the street and I was doing the only thing I could do. When he started his shit I got him to attack me so I could take him out and close the whole thing down before there were more than a few people around. The big crowd didn't show up until you did, and you know it."
I handed him my driver's license. He called it in to check for wants and warrants.
The white cop looked in the rearview mirror at me and asked, "Where to?"
"The scrap yard," I said, pointing down the street. We started moving.
"I don't want you coming back here," said the black cop, "There are going to be some people watching for you. Dallas doesn't need a goddamned race riot this summer."
I looked at him for a moment.
"Here it is," I looked at his sleeve, "Corporal. I'm using that scrap yard. I can pack a lunch instead of walking up the street, but those guys have the car parts I need and they're helping me fix up my Chevy. You can give me your best advice about things, but you can't tell me where I can go or not go in Dallas."
He glared at me as he spoke. "You think about it," he said, "It doesn't take a hell of a lot to start something that makes people go crazy in the streets."
I gazed back at him and said, "Yeah. Right. They run through the streets smashing and stealing. How does that relate to any incident? How does it solve anything? Some people riot. Some don't. When the Jewish kid was beaten with baseball bats by blacks, did the Jews riot? No. When whites are robbed and beaten by black gangs in parking garages downtown, do the whites riot? No. Did the Mexicans riot last year when that girl was raped and beaten by four blacks and a white? No, and I was frankly surprised that they didn't. If anyone riots in the traditional manner of theft and damage, you have my permission to shoot them, no matter what color they are, right where they stand. Okay?"
"Works for me," said the white cop, "He's got a point there, Harry. Nobody else riots."
"Shut up, Ted."
"Hey, the statistics back him up, with the exception of after-game riots. Then you get all colors doing all kinds of stupid shit."
"Shut-up-Ted," said Harry as he handed back my license.
"That doesn't work with me, Harry. We're here, guy. You're sure you don't want to just leave the car and come back in a month or two?" Ted grinned at me.
"I'm sure," I said, "Can't leave it. Thanks for the ride." I got out of the car.
Chapter Six
I'd just finished lunch and was thumbing through an old pinup calendar when the ruckus outside became louder than the crusher's motor and the sound of crumpling metal. Three big guys and the Cadillac driver had the yard owner cornered and were asking about me.
I stepped out on the porch and said, "Hi, all."
"That's him!" yelled the Caddy driver rather unnecessarily as he pointed at me.
"How's your nose?" I asked him.
He postured and glared, but said no more.
One of the other guys stepped up on the porch and stood in front of me.
"You think you can take me, whitey?" He looked about three hundred pounds and over six feet.
"If I called you blackie you'd scream racism. Think about it. What do you want?"
The Caddy driver got his nerve back once his big pal was standing in front of me.
He came up to stand a little behind and to one side of the big guy and yelled, "We wants yo' white ass, thass what we wants!"
"Glory Be!" I said, "An Ebonics student! Has it helped you get a job yet?"
The big guy laughed and swatted the Caddy driver back down the steps as he said, "Shut up, DeeCee. We don't want this guy to think we're all as stupid as you."
He turned back to me and looked me up and down.
"You really do think you can take me, don't you? I guess the smart thing to do is wonder why you think so without trying to find out right away."
"That's fine with me," I said, "I'm happy to meet someone intelligent today. Now why did you guys want to find me? Because I was in a brawl with DeeCee?"
The big guy laughed again. "Nah. Hell, no. He was just an excuse to come looking for you. Somebody else wants to meet you."
"Is she beautiful and willing?"
"Ha. You were almost funny that time. It's not a woman, muh man. You have an appointment with Black Ice himself. He wants to talk to you."
"No, thanks," I said, "We didn't get along the last time we met."
The big guy just looked at me for a moment. He made a sign and the other two flanked us on the porch. The Caddy driver edged back and picked up a tire iron.
"This isn't exactly an invitation," said the big guy, "And he wants to see you now."
"Three against one, huh?" I looked beyond him at the Caddy driver. "Make that three and a half if DeeCee doesn't run. I take it there's no way to politely refuse?"
"No way," said the big guy, "You don't get to refuse."
I glanced across the street at the building known to be Black Ice's habitat. Something flashed in a window on the second floor.
"We're being watched," I noted. One of the guys and the Caddy driver looked that direction. I shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll go see Black Ice, then."
The yard owner was off to the side, pretending not to be seeing or hearing anything.
I waved at him and said, "Finish with the hoses and fill it with straight antifreeze. I'll be back in a bit."
His rolling eyes betrayed his doubt of that. We all piled into the Caddy for what appeared to be a drive all the way across a two-lane city street. I was careful to leave no prints in the car.
This was what I'd been angling for; a way into what was otherwise thought to be a fortress in the middle of town. On two occasions other than the failed bust the cops had served search warrants based on one thing or other, but Black Ice had been tipped off, so nothing turned up worthy of note. I was about to get a look at how things were between warrants.
DeeCee took us in through a side door that had been modified to open upward like a garage door. His only concern was for the paint on the Caddy as he carefully squeezed us through a doorway only two feet wider than the car.
"Look out, man!" I whispered harshly.
DeeCee jerked around as if he was having a seizure trying to see all sides at once. The big guy on my left snickered. DeeCee glared at me in the mirror once the car cleared the doorway.
"We got sumpin' special for you in here, whitey," he hissed at me.
"How the hell would you know? Nobody in his right mind would tell you anything but where to go and what to carry. You're just a flunky, DeeCee."
DeeCee got hot again, but the big guy in the front seat said, "Shut up, DeeCee."
It wasn't that I disliked DeeCee in particular. Well, maybe I did. But I was only picking on him to keep him primed to go off in case I needed someone to do something stupid.
When the Caddy stopped, we all got out and took our positions. One big guy in front, one on each side, and DeeCee behind me.
The old building must have once been some kind of a warehouse, judging by the fittings on the walls. It was huge and grimy in the main rooms and populated with a few dozen people who were all sleeping or stoning.
They were sprawled on the floor, lying on pallets, and a few were up on what remained of some shelving.
The only people in the room who were on their feet -- about a dozen -- were armed in various ways. Most had pistols, but a few had rifles or shotguns.
Someone started freaking about something, making a series of little screeches that threatened to erupt into some real screaming. One of the guys standing guard came over and rapped the freaker's skull with a pistol.
The freaker collapsed into silence. The guy with the gun stayed where he was to glare at me as we passed. I gave him a cheery little wave.
I wondered where all these people had disappeared to when the cops had searched the place, then I saw the large, rectangular grate in the center of what had once been a vehicle repair bay.
There were two large seatbelt strips looped through it on one end. Sure, I thought. This building was built in the twenties. No rules about waste disposal back then.
The old sewer probably fed straight to the river. Now it would meet up with the big sewers under the streets. The place could be empty in minutes.
A truly beautiful semi-black woman in her mid-twenties met us at an office door and watched as one of the big guys searched me for weapons. I looked her over thoroughly as I was being searched. Beautiful green eyes. Tall. She very much resembled a certain defrocked nineteen-eighties Miss America named Williams.
I smiled at her. She smiled back, but it was about the same kind of empty smile you'd get from a store clerk. Still, it was a smile, and it made her even more beautiful.
"You should smile as often as possible," I said, "Smiling makes you gorgeous."
Her smile broadened slightly before DeeCee stepped between us and pushed a left index finger into my chest.
He almost screeched, "You don't be talkin' to her, whitey. She be Black Ice's ho'."
I grabbed his finger and twisted until it lay to one side of the usual arrangement. As the shock coursed through him he paled and gasped, then he began to wail as the agony washed over him. Two of the big guys had grabbed my arms. DeeCee pulled a knife and started toward me.
The big guy who had talked with me at the yard started to grab him, but my foot got there first. DeeCee crumpled when the pointed toe of my cowboy boot pushed his heart around inside his chest and lifted him off the floor.
The knife fell flat on the floor and DeeCee fell on top of it, unfortunately still breathing.
I let the two guys continue to hold my arms and stood quietly looking at the big guy in front of me. After a moment, he nodded to them and they relaxed their grips on my arms somewhat.
I continued to stand there, switching my gaze to the woman. "I'm told I was invited, ma'am. These guys say I have an appointment."
"Yes, you certainly do," she said with another small smile. Her voice matched her looks. It was a soft, slightly raspy voice that flowed like audible honey.
She turned and walked ahead of us with a model's walk, that one-foot-before-the-other pace they learn that becomes a habit.
She was nearly six feet tall and was maybe fifteen pounds heavier than modeling would have allowed, which is to say she looked real damned good to me.
Her calves were well filled and showed a rather solid muscularity that clothesrack-models don't usually have.
When she turned to open a door the light from the window beyond it highlighted her profile from head to toe.
I heard a sigh on my left and saw one of my escorts gazing at her in mild awe. Or lust. Or both. I knew the feeling and she was worth it. I nodded agreement.
The guy on my right pulled his gun and nudged me in the ribs with it as we entered the room. Sitting on the edge of the desk in the room was Black Ice.
He was wearing a conservative business suit and leafing through documents in a folder. He was about six feet tall, black as a coal pit, and had the calm, gazing demeanor of a reptile.
He shook his head slightly at the woman. Instead of coming in with us, she walked away down the hall.
I watched her go until Ice's voice said, "You're here to see me, not her."
His words were clear and precise. On a phone, you'd think he was a white Midwesterner.
I turned to face him and said, "Well, no offense, of course, but she's gorgeous and you aren't. What did you want to see me about?"
Ice stood up. "You're one of the cops who pulled me in the last time," he said. "It cost me a great deal of money and a number of tall favors to fix things."
"That's too bad. And I was one of the cops. You're the main reason I'm not one of those cops now."
He grinned. "Really? I think I may actually be flattered. How was I a reason?"
"They let you go, that's why. The system shot itself in the dick over one pissy little detail and you walked out without even one little charge. It was just the latest and greatest of the system's fuckups at the time."
He laughed, looked at me disbelievingly, then laughed again for a moment.
"That made you quit? That kind of shit happens every day, but you don't see anybody else quitting, do you? That's the game, my man. Nothing new."
"Are you my new guidance counselor? I don't give a damn how often it happens or how many other cops are content to play the game that way. I thought the whole deal sucked."
He grinned. "I didn't." Ice sat in his overstuffed office chair and rocked back, putting his feet on his desk. "And now I've got you to play with."
"I'm afraid I'm not going to be much fun. I don't play well with others."
"Oh, I don't know. Remember the detective's daughter? She gave great head once she got used to it. Everyone she sucked or screwed while she was our guest thought she was a natural at it, and I can tell you she was very photogenic in the right lighting."
He swung his feet down and came back around the desk to stand several feet in front of me, well out of reach.
"You know, you look photogenic as hell, too," he said, opening a zippered bag with the name of a local bank on each side. Inside it were a few small baggies, some surgical tubing, a spoon, a candle, and a syringe.
He smiled as he took the items out of the bag and said, "When we found out you were doing business across the street, we checked you out. Once we knew you were just a private citizen again, we made a few plans for you. It's gonna look like you binged out, my man. We're gonna have pictures of you like the ones we sent her daddy, only worse. We'll send copies to everybody you ever knew, sell 'em in the porn shops, and put 'em up on the internet, and there ain't shit you can do about it."
Ice set the bag's contents on the desk and tossed the bag aside. "Get ready to get happy, my man. You're gonna be a star."
I pretended to cough nervously.
"Everybody'll know it's a setup."
Ice laughed. "So what? They'll still have the pictures. People don't care whether it's real or not. It's called entertainment."
My cough seemed to get worse.
"You know I'll come after you."
Ice laughed and his men laughed with him.
"No, I don't think so. They're gonna find you in your car with a set of the pictures that are so bad they drove you to suicide."
"Nobody's going to buy that, either," I said, coughing again. "Damned allergies are acting up," I said, "Must be something in the room. I still think you'll be disappointed with me."
"Do you really? Why's that?"
"I told you I'm not much fun," I said, coughing again and faking a sneeze, turning my head slightly to the right.
The guy on my right instinctively recoiled and checked his jacket for snot. I yanked my right arm free and twisted the guy's gun out of his hand, then backhanded him with it. He fell a few feet away.
Ice backed up against his desk. The guy on my left had his gun out. I shot him dead center in the chest and dropped to one knee just as the remaining guard who had been behind me fired and missed. I didn't miss. My shot ripped through his heart.
Black Ice had managed to get behind his desk. He pulled a huge silver pistol out of a drawer and was bringing it into position. My bullet slammed into his chest just as his gun lined up on me, spoiling his aim and shoving him backward into his chair.
He stared at me, trying to speak or maybe just trying to breathe, but all that came out was a croaking sound. He tried to raise his gun again, so I shot him again, this time aiming more carefully for his heart, then I took the .44 magnum from his hand.
The remaining guard who'd been on my right was no longer unarmed. He'd had a hideaway gun strapped to his ankle and was straightening up with it as I fired the .44 at his forehead.
A bullet will move a small person around. This guy was too big for that. His head snapped back, then he just sort of hung there for a moment as the news of his death soaked in and he collapsed.
There was a small noise to my left. One of the guards was still moving slightly. I put a backup .44 round in his forehead to verify matters.
I was expecting company because of the shots, so I traded the almost-empty gun for the hideaway gun and its ankle holster, wiping the one I'd used clean before wrapping the dead guard's hand around it.
I pushed his finger through the trigger guard to fire the gun at the desk so he'd have residue on his hand, then I wiped the .44 clean and put it back in Ice's hand.
Stuffing the holster into my back pocket, I checked the hallway. Empty. Where the hell was everybody? Didn't they hear the gunfire? I peeked out the door again and found the hallway still clear, but I could feel a presence nearby somewhere.
Proceeding quietly, I was nonetheless only halfway to the exit when that beautiful woman's voice said, "Hold it."
I turned to see her holding a Beretta 92FS leveled at me. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she spoke again.
"You're out here, so Ice is history, right? Put that gun on the floor and kick it over here."
I said nothing as I kicked the gun to her. She knelt to grab the gun, then ran into Ice's office. I glanced to check the hallway and followed her.
She kept an eye and a gun on me as she grabbed a MAC-11 and two briefcases from the closet, all the while trying hard not to see the men on the floor.
Snapping the MAC's slide to seat a round in the chamber, she slung it under her right arm, then slung the briefcases and her purse under her left arm.
As an afterthought, she snagged a sweater off a coat rack by the door with the muzzle of the MAC and flipped it backwards over the gun, then adjusted the hanging fit of everything and said, "Okay, let's go."
The MAC was now pointing at my chest.
I glanced back down the hall and saw no one, then looked back at her. She must have thought I was stalling.
"You're coming along," she said. "Get moving."
"What's in the briefcases?" I asked.
"You don't need to know. Move it."
"Okay," I said, "Sure, ma'am. Want me to carry one of them for you?"
"Just shut up and get moving," she growled at me.
With a shrug and a sigh I said, "Oh, yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am. Moving now, ma'am."
We moved quickly down the hall toward the exit.
"How come we don't have any company?" I asked, "Don't gunshots in the boss's office mean anything to anyone around here?"
"Not really," she said, "Sometimes Ice would put a round in each of a guy's ankles and wrists, then in his knees and elbows. That was one of his ways of getting answers or getting even with someone. Sometimes he'd practice in the next office with that big silver gun. Nobody in the neighborhood is stupid enough to see or hear anything."
"He offered me a movie career," I said.
She glanced up at me but said nothing. We reached the door, then the sidewalk, without encountering anyone.
"Figures," I said, "My car is on the other side of the building from us. Any ideas?"
"Walk," she said. She handed me a briefcase. "Don't even dream about getting away from this." She raised the MAC slightly. "If they see you with me they'll think things have been worked out somehow, even with the shots. Normally, nobody is stupid enough to hassle me or anyone with me. Ice wouldn't like it. We can probably get around the building before anyone gets up the nerve to go into Ice's office. If all those guys are dead..." She looked to me for confirmation. I shrugged. "...Then there's no leadership left to speak of. The rest will probably ransack the place and run like garbage rats."
"Who are you?" I asked her, "An undercover cop?"
She glanced at me as we marched.
"You don't need to know that, either."
"Well, what do I do? Holler "Hey, you!" to get your attention?"
She gave me an odd look. "Call me Vanessa, then." She didn't ask for my name.
"No problem," I said, "You do look like her. I think you may even look better."
"Can the shit. Sucking up to me won't get you a damned thing."
"Yes, ma'am. No sucking up to you, ma'am."
She glanced at me sharply.
We made it to the scrap yard without incident. When the owner saw who was with me, he nearly had a stroke. I told him to settle down and handed him money to cover the bill he'd put together, then cranked up the Chevy and got us out of there. Vanessa said nothing until we were almost to Loop 12.
"Take the next exit and find a gas station," she ordered.
I glanced across and saw that her hands were shaking badly. She used getting a solid grip on the MAC to conceal the shaking.
I grinned at her. "Things are catching up, huh?"
"Shut up and drive."
"It happens to everyone after something like that. The adrenaline goes away and the acid buildup in the muscles is just like what you have after too much exertion."
She yelled, "Just find me a goddamned gas station, okay?!"
I grinned at her again.
"Hypertension. That's another common reaction. Sometimes it's a little premature, however..."
"Will-you-shut-up!? I know what's happening. I've been through it before."
"Okay. No more about symptoms and causes. But take a breath and relax a bit. Then you can tell me whether you want to come home with me."
She goggled at me. "Home with you? What the hell are you talking about now?"
"You got a better plan? They'll look for you if there's anyone left to call up a search party. I have a big farmhouse with lots of room and you have that gun and lots of bullets to protect your honor. We'll need to stop at a grocery store, though."
"You're fucking crazy, aren't you? After all that you want to find a grocery store?"
"Before all that. After all that. So what about all that? We'll still get hungry later, and I'm out of beer and Dr Pepper. Can you cook?"
"Jesus H. Christ," she muttered, then there was silence on the passenger side as we pulled into a Texaco station. I parked close to the bathrooms.
Vanessa took the briefcases and the MAC with her when she got out. I'd have demanded the car keys, too, but she might have been ready to call a cab rather than ride with me any farther.
Of course the restroom door was locked. Before she could do much swearing I told her to wait while I got the key from the attendant and turned to go.
"Just stand still!" she said, "Stay right there! I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"Fine," I said, "Pee in the bushes, then. Just don't pee in my car. Think about it, lady. Who would I call? The cops?"
I looked at her for a moment and then left her there.
When I returned, I opened the door for her and then used the passkey on the men's room door. After a leak and a washup I returned the key and picked up a cold six of Dr Pepper. It occurred to me that she might not like the stuff, so I also grabbed a six of ice teas and a bag of chocolate chip cookies. I've never known a woman to refuse chocolate chip cookies without excellent reasons.
Vanessa was peeking through the slightly opened door when I returned to the car with the goodies. I opened her car door and then went around to open my own.
She almost dashed to the car. I just looked at her for a moment as she arranged herself and her things.
"What?" she asked, "Why the hell aren't we moving? Let's get out of here. Go!"
I handed her a choice of a Dr Pepper or a tea. After a moment, she took the tea. I then placed the bag of cookies between us on the seat and opened them. "Vanessa," I said, "Who in that crowd back there would call the cops? What's the hurry?"
She kept a grip on the MAC, so I opened her tea for her and handed it back as she stared at me, then opened my own drink and fished up a cookie. After a few moments of staring at me, she took a sip of her tea and seemed thoughtful.
"You never answered me," she said, "Were they all dead? Everyone in the room?"
"I checked. They were dead."
I held out a cookie to her. After a moment she wedged her can between her knees and took it.
She thought another couple of moments, then said, "Maybe DeeCee would call the cops, or even someone else in there, but they'd do it anonymously from a pay phone, and most of them would search the place for any money, drugs, or guns first."
"Yup. Is there a hurry, then? Do you really have anyplace to go, or were you just taking an opportunity to run from it all?"
"Taking the opportunity," she said. "And I can always find a place to go."
"I think we need to talk about where we stand with each other. I'm not a cop and I don't work for them. I don't work for anyone at the moment. What I want to know is, do you have drugs in those briefcases?"
She looked at me hard for a bit, then said, "No drugs. Why?"
"Prove it," I said. The MAC came up to point at me. I ignored it and said, "Let me see. I just want to know you aren't holding a bunch of crack or something that you took just to sell off later."
"I'm not," she said, "And you'll just have to believe me about it."
"In that case, go call a cab. You're on your own."
I sipped my Dr Pepper around a cookie while she stared incredulously at me.
"What? Don't you realize I could shoot you and take this car?" she asked.
"No, you couldn't. You'll find out why if you try it."
I stuffed another cookie in my mouth and sipped around it. I began to wonder if I was wrong about her.
Nearly a full minute passed before she shoved a briefcase at me and said, "See for yourself. No drugs. Just money. Ice kept an emergency fund."
She kept the gun on me as I opened the briefcases to find them full only of neat rows of banded bills. I handed them back and started the car.
"Good enough. Where to?"
She was staring at me again. "Uh, take me to the Holiday Inn by the airport."
"You got it. Which airport? DFW or Love Field?"
"Love Field."
I put us on Cedar Springs Road and we were in the motel's parking lot in less than half an hour. She remained in her seat after we parked. I knew what the problem was.
She didn't know what to do with the MAC. She couldn't take it in the lobby, and now that I'd seen the money, she didn't want to let go of it for even an instant.
"Well, ma'am?" I prompted her after a few moments of silence, "We're here."
"Just give me a minute!" she snapped at me, "I'm trying to think."
I waited another couple of moments and said, "Look, I'd like to get going..."
She glared at me for a moment, then said, "Then let's go. Your place."
"Should I ask why you changed your mind? Is it my sparkling personality?"
She almost smiled.
"No," she said, "That wasn't it."
"If you still have the Beretta you could ditch the MAC," I said, "You could cover me while I unload it and you could use the ammo in the Beretta. They're both nines."
Vanessa sighed.
"I left the damned Beretta in the office."
"Okay. What about the gun you took from me?"
"I still have it, but it stays where it is."
I nodded and took another swig of my Dr Pepper. She moved a briefcase to the floor. I took the opportunity to reach quickly across and snap the MAC's safety on as I yanked the gun out of her hands.
I said, "I'm tired of this shit, ma'am."
There was terror in her eyes and she was frozen in her seat, clutching her arm where the gunstrap had friction-burned her.
I let her sit that way for a moment, then dropped the clip out of the MAC and emptied the chamber. I put the loose bullet back in the clip, tossed it in her lap, and shoved the gun under my seat.
"Now the MAC isn't a problem. You can go in if you want. Or come with me. Your choice."
Her fear was fading, but she didn't move. I sighed, pulled the keys out, got out and walked around the car, and opened her door. She sat staring up at me and made no move to get out of the car.
I sighed again and left the car door open as I walked back around to get back in.
"Well?" I asked. "One of Ice's friends may know about the money. It looks like enough to make someone hunt you down. If you're gonna run, you'd best get started."
Chapter Seven
She started to get out, hesitated, then wordlessly pulled her door shut. I stopped at a grocery store on the way and thirty minutes after that we were heading up the driveway to my rented farmhouse.
After stashing the guns in a tool locker to get them out of my car, I let her pick an upstairs room, gave her a towel, and then gave her some of my thoughts on our situation.
"Don't call anyone from here," I said as I handed her bedding and a towel, "Or from anywhere else you're staying. All calls are traceable these days and you just ripped off a drug dealer. Assume that anyone you're talking to on a phone has someone else listening, too, or will give you up under pressure, and never tell anyone where you are."
She was just looking at me as if I were from Mars. I led her back to the bedroom.
"Once the cops find the bodies, there'll be a big investigation. It looks as if the bad guys shot each other and maybe they'll just file the whole mess. You worked there and they'll definitely want to talk to you. They'll probably find out I was there, too, and that we left together. It's only mid-afternoon. We could go back, discover the bodies, and say I took you, the gorgeous secretary, out for the afternoon after my talk with Ice. Nobody could look at you and not believe I wouldn't want to have you for lunch. Damn. I meant to say 'take you to lunch'. Sorry."
She ignored my gaffe and said, "I don't want to go back there. I really don't."
"Got a better idea?"
"No. I just don't want to go back there."
"Okay, then. Plan B: We go somewhere for dinner and drinks where we'll be very noticed and fake a one-nighter here with a couple of calls to people I know to verify we were here. You show up for work tomorrow in the same clothes and be appropriately confused and upset about everything. That gives us all night to work out the story or come up with a better plan."
"That sounds a little better, but I still don't want to go back there."
"You may have no choice, but we can talk about that tonight. See you downstairs."
I was forcing matters a bit. There was nowhere in the house she could really hide the briefcases from me if I chose to search for them. She'd either have to haul them around with her or leave them in her room and trust me.
I didn't think trust came easily for her, but as I said, I was forcing matters a bit. We had things to be considered thoroughly and arranged perfectly. A measure of trust would be essential.
Half an hour passed before she joined me in the living room. She'd washed up and calmed down and had an opinion.
"Plan B," she said. "My name's Kim. What's yours?"
"I'm Ed. How come you aren't Vanessa anymore?"
"If we do your plan B, you'll find out anyway. If you're going to kill me for the money, it doesn't matter what name I'm using, and I've always hated having everyone think it was somehow witty or cool to call me Vanessa."
"I don't think they were teasing you. I think they meant it as a compliment, Kim. Is that short for Kimberly?"
"It is. Mom watched the soaps. One of her favorite characters was a Kimberly."
"Good enough, I guess. What kind of food do you like?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, you pick something. You know the area."
"Surf 'n Turf. They have a little of everything and a decent bar."
I called in reservations at the restaurant and we arrived there early enough to be seen drinking and talking together in the lounge for most of an hour before our table was ready.
I complimented the food, put the dinner on my Visa card, and overtipped a bit. We'd be remembered there. We went to a retro-disco on Lemmon Avenue and then to a jazz club on Oak Lawn, then headed back to the house around eleven, stopping for coffee at a Denny's along the expressway.
A cop I knew showed up, as expected, at midnight. He and his partner sat with us while waiting for their food. I teased him about having to wetnurse a new partner and they both marveled at my date, who handled meeting the cops fairly well.
They hadn't just become part of our alibi. I knew word would reach April by morning. She'd probably find a suitable reason to drop by the farm before lunchtime out of curiosity.
Because we were supposed to be having a fling, I suggested that Kim should sleep in my bed for appearances' sake in case the investigators checked the house later. She just looked at me as if I'd made a bad pun, and her answer surprised me.
"I knew this was coming," she said, "It doesn't matter. You'll fuck me because you can and because that's what men do to women like me, so don't bother with the bullshit. Just wear a rubber, please. I have one if you don't." She reached for her purse.
I stared at her for a moment. "Women like you? What the hell does that mean?"
She sat on the edge of the bed and sighed, "Don't pretend. You know what I am."
"Don't make me guess. Enlighten me. What are you?"
"I was living with Black Ice. I was his showpiece girlfriend. Anytime he wanted me, I was there. In return, I got most anything I wanted. What does that make me?"
"It sounds as if it made you unhappy as hell. You didn't seem too broken up about his demise, so I'd say you really didn't like him very much. A woman with your looks can get just about any man she wants, so I figure he had some kind of hold over you."
Kim looked up at me.
"Oh, yes," she said sardonically, "He had a hold over me, all right. I came home from college on a semester break a few years ago. Ice saw me and decided he wanted me, so he had me delivered to his office and told me what would happen to my little brother and my mother if I didn't cooperate. He promised to turn both of them into drug-addicted hookers and introduced me to a couple of them in his stable so I could see just what that meant. I've been cooperating my ass off ever since."
"You can't judge all men by Ice."
"I'm not. He got tired of me after a while and kept me around to hand out as a special favor or to get special favors. Believe me, I've known a lot of men. Doctors, lawyers, politicians, other dealers. Black, white, and other. All of them had one thing in common. When they had the chance to screw me, they did, and now it's your turn, isn't it?"
After a moment's silence, I said, "Those days are over, Kim."
Kim looked up rather tiredly and allowed her disbelief to show. "Bullshit."
"I mean it," I said, "You don't have to do that anymore, so stop acting as if you do."
She gave a nasty little laugh. "Does knowing about all the other men turn you off?"
I held my temper and said, "Nothing about you turns me off except your sorry attitude and my being lumped in with a bunch of assholes because I happen to be male. Sleep in your own room and strip the bed in the morning. We at least need to fake it. Move your pillow to my bed in the morning so they'll have something to find."
I left her and went to the kitchen for a beer. The sky was clear and the stars were shining brightly, so I stepped out on the front porch and stared at them for a while.
Something was trying to push itself into my awareness. I suddenly realized April was nearby and wondered how long she'd been there and how I'd missed knowing it.
I spoke into the night, not even looking up. "You're out and about late, April."
She settled to the wooden porch, gave me a quick hello kiss, and said, "Something's come up that we need to discuss, Ed. I heard you had some unusual company. I saw her through the window on the way down. She's kind of cute, isn't she?"
"Cute? Hell, Kim is heartwrenchingly beautiful and you know it."
"Kim, huh? You know, she looks a lot like..."
I interrupted her.
"Yeah, I know. She's heard it too often and hates it when people mention it."
"So I won't mention it, then. Got another beer?"
"For you, especially in that uniform, I'd go get some if I didn't have any, but I do. Have a seat. Be right back."
I brought her a beer and took the other chair.
"You aren't all that nosey, April, and you don't get jealous. What brings you out here after midnight?"
She looked across at me in the dim starlight.
"I'll level with you, Ed. Our spotters spotted you the first time you visited that junkyard. We've been watching every move you've made since. Today Ice's people picked you up. You left with her. Adding in that you quit police work after Ice's bust went bad and all the other odd behavior lately..."
"What odd behavior? I dropped a very unsatisfying job, got a place of my own, and I've been trying to find parts to fix up my car."
"...As I was saying, adding it up made us suspicious, Ed, and that woman upstairs has been Ice's mistress for quite a while. What the hell are you up to?"
I thought a minute. "She hates him, April. He forced her to be there and used her as a party favor when he tired of her. Today she left him and I brought her here."
April was quiet for some time. "Heh. That was good, Ed. Well said, indeed. But there's a detail you missed. Ice is no longer a problem, is he? He's kind of dead."
"How very damned tragic," I said, and sipped my beer.
"I flew over the place on the way here. It was too quiet in the area. There's normally fairly heavy foot traffic around that neighborhood day and night, but tonight it was like a ghost town. Very unusual. So I peeked inside the building, Ed."
April drained her beer and waggled the bottle for another. I brought out two more beers and handed her one. She sat back and stretched out a bit.
I said, "Before you go on with this, maybe I should go get Kim so she can hear it, too."
Before I could move I heard a noise from the other end of the house, then the sound of my Chevy starting up. April and I were in the air and heading back there when my car came roaring around the side of the house.
Kim was peering all around anxiously, but she never looked upward as she blasted down the driveway. I was glad the gate was open.
April guzzled her beer and tossed the bottle near the porch. I did likewise.
"How do you want to do this?" asked April, "It's your car."
"Let's not startle her too much. If we meet her at the first stop and land in front of her she may really panic. We could just pick up the car and bring it back."
"Will she have sense enough not to get out of it while it's off the ground?"
"Damned if I know. We can fly low and find out."
Farm country. Ten miles to the first available stoplights. We waited behind the bushes for her. It was late, so the lights were flashing red.
Kim slowed way down, but never actually stopped, so I jumped to grab the rear bumper of my Chevy and lifted the wheels off the ground to stop the car.
Feeling the back of the car heave upward, Kim saw me in the rearview mirror and freaked out completely. She bailed out of my car while it was still in gear, so I couldn't put it down very conveniently.
April drifted above me and giggled.
"Hey, Sooperdooperman, nice work, there! Now what?"
I looked up at her and sighed.
"Just put it in park and go get her, please?"
"Oh, yessir! Right away, sir! By your command, sir!" She was still laughing as she plunged into the darkness after Kim. "Trainee!" she yelled back at me.
I put the car down and got in to move it out of the intersection as much as to follow April, but she was already returning with a struggling Kim in her arms.
They landed just in front of the car as I stopped. The headlights washed over April's tall, nearly naked form and Kim began screaming, struggling harder than ever to get free as I got out of the car and walked toward them.
April just looked at me with a 'Well, what now?' sort of expression. I stood in front of Kim and waited. She couldn't break April's grip and eventually realized it. Her screaming began to lose steam and finally stopped.
I looked at her a moment longer, then asked, "Are you finished? May I say something now?"
Kim stared wide-eyed at me, expecting the worst, I'm sure, but remained silent.
"Good," I said, "Kim, this is April. You've probably seen her on TV. You can't outrun either of us, as you already know, so just calm down and listen. Okay?"
After a moment Kim nodded and whispered, "Okay."
April released her.
"Good," I said again, "You will drive my car back to the house and you will drive normally this time. We'll be right above you, so don't try to run. You're driving it back so that you can have time to decide whether to stay or go. If you decide to leave, take your stuff and call a cab the minute you get back. That's it, ma'am. Saddle up."
I tossed her the keys and stood aside. Kim turned to look at April for a moment, then went to my car and got in. She started it and turned it around on the two-lane blacktop, then moved out in the right direction, well below the posted speed limit. April and I lifted to float along above the car, as promised.
"She's only doing about twenty-five," said April. "It'll take her a while to get back."
"If you'll keep an eye on her I'll go get us a couple of beers." I grinned at her.
April grinned back. "Sounds good to me."
I beelined -- literally -- ahead to the house and brought back a couple of beers. The return trip had sped up a bit around the fourth mile. April and I were standing on air about a hundred feet above the car so we could talk and avoid the occasional powerlines and such.
Just like unenhanced people, certain positions seem to come more naturally than others, even in flight. Head up and feet down just feels right to a biped, I guess.
"You really like her?" asked April, taking a swig of her beer.
"Like? I hardly know her, and I'm having trouble with some of her current attitudes and opinions about men."
I told April what Kim had said about men and the experiences from which she'd drawn that opinion. April shook her head.
"Damn. You really have a talent for finding the damaged ones, don't you, Ed?"
"Oh, yeah. It's a real gift, April," I said sarcastically, "But I'm not tossing much into this one. She wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for my feeling that helping her out of there was the right thing at the moment. She's got a pile of money in those cases, a bit of education, and great looks. With Ice gone, her family's out of immediate danger. There's no good reason for her to suffer another man she doesn't want."
"Speaking of Ice being gone, do you want to tell me what really happened?"
"Not really. Let the cops piece it together. Let's see what they come up with."
"I can tell you what they've come up with so far," -- she fixed me with a solid gaze -- "It looks as if everybody in that office shot each other. There's nothing in there to say otherwise, is there?"
"Shouldn't be," I said, "How does that sit with you?"
April tipped her beer and said nothing for a moment, then, "Sara and I kill when we have to. It's only different because we're the only ones with the power to stop the Aktions and that's the only way we've discovered to stop them. We've tried reasoning with them and lost many people for the effort, so we don't reason with them any more. We can't locate their ships easily in the depths of space, so we have to wait for them to attack again."
She sighed and continued, "As I see it, all you did differently was not wait for the next attack. If nothing turns up in the way of hard evidence, I'm fine with what appears to have happened, but our people saw your dealings with the parts yard over the last couple of weeks, so you can expect to be questioned at length about the matter. You trolled yourself as bait and Ice took it. They saw Ice's people take you inside and saw you leave with Kim about fifteen minutes later, apparently at the point of her gun. If anything could have confirmed that something was a little strange, that was it."
"I wanted to find out if she was really one of them or just trying to escape."
"And..?" asked April.
"And I'm inclined to think her story is true, what little I've heard of it. She didn't talk about herself at all this evening, even after a few drinks."
"I thought you might have read her by now, or whatever it is you do."
"Tried that a couple of times. All that was on the top of the stack in her case was terror. Mind-numbing, chilling, nauseating terror that I'd do something to her, that one of Ice's people would find her, or that somebody would go after her family to try to find out where she was hiding. Just fear of everydamnthing, as far as I could tell. She hid it well, but it was right there on top and it was the strongest impression in the pile."
Kim turned into my driveway. April and I zipped past her and waited for her on the porch. Kim parked the car and got out to stand looking at us for a couple of moments, then came up the steps and stopped in front of us. She had a slight tremor in her voice.
"Are you really going to let me go?" She asked, wringing her purse nervously.
"Yup. If that's what you want to do, get your stuff together and call a cab."
"Somebody's going to follow me, right?"
"Not me," I said, glancing at April. "You?"
April gazed steadily at Kim as she answered me. "No legal reason to. Unless evidence turns up that says she was involved in the killings, she's just an office manager for a temporary labor business that's now very much out of business."
Kim paled slightly. "You know about the...?" She looked at me. "Did you tell her?"
"Didn't have to. April's very talented, Kim. She found them on her own."
"Oh. Oh, my God..." Kim clutched the porch rail for support. "What...what now?"
"I thought we covered that," said April, looking at me. She held up her empty bottle.
"We did," I said, "She can stay here or call a cab."
I went into the kitchen and brought out three more beers. "I do have a suggestion beyond that, though."
The women looked at me questioningly as I handed them their beers.
"That much money will buy a lot of travel," I said, "For you and for your mother and brother, but it won't necessarily buy you real security. If one of Ice's associates decides you might know something useful, your family could become hostages to your cooperation again. Let's let the police wrap things up and see if anyone shows any interest in finding you. We can bring your family and their stuff out here. There are fourteen rooms in this house and the place is very defensible. Later you can find something more permanent."
After a moment, Kim sighed, "How very, very kind of you. Tell me, my brand-new friend, why the hell would you do all that for me? What do I have to do for you?"
I looked at April. "See?" I turned back to Kim and said, "Forget it, then. I don't need this shit and I'm not explaining another goddamned thing to you that a normal person could figure out on her own. Run your ass off. Maybe nobody will miss you or your family, after all."
Having said that, I walked clear of the porch and lifted a few feet up before saying, "I'll drop by the office tomorrow, April. Help yourself to the beer."
April stared up at me as she lifted toward me.
"You're just going to leave her here, Ed?"
Kim was staring at us. I glared back down at her and said, "She won't steal anything and she's got cab fare of her own. And I'm tired of her shitty attitude."
April quickly floated over to me, grabbed my arm, and asked sharply, "Hasn't it occurred to you that she had to overcome years of abuse just to come this far with you?"
"Bullshit. She hasn't overcome a damned thing, April. I was an opportunity to escape Ice and she's thinking she'll have to escape me, too, sooner or later, so let's get it over with now."
"What about her family, then? How can you offer to help them one minute and write them off the next because she pissed you off?"
"I didn't hear her accept the offer. Did you? She can't just say 'okay, good idea, thanks'. Hell no. She had to let me know she expects to pay for it in some nasty way. She's been nothing more than a giveaway fuck for so long she can't think any other way. If you want to try to do something for her and her family, you go right ahead. She might listen to you."
I was glancing back over April's shoulder at Kim when April's hand slammed into my face. It was a slap, not a fist, but the shockwave from it shattered my beer bottle and a couple of windows in the front of the house.
I went reeling up against the wall and Kim was holding her ears and keening with pain and shock as she fell to her knees.
April whipped around in midair at the sound behind her. I felt her shock as she realized what she had done to Kim by slapping me. I peeled myself off the ground and got to Kim before April.
No blood, so probably no serious eardrum damage, but that would be something for a doctor to determine. I glanced up at April. She was mortified at the results of her action and was almost babbling her apologies to Kim.
"Let's get her into the kitchen," I said in a flat tone. April nodded and helped Kim up.
I retrieved an eyedropper and some sore-throat spray from the bathroom and draped a towel over Kim's shoulders, then poured a bit of the spray mix into a shotglass to fill the eyedropper.
Using the eyedropper to place a few drops of it in each ear, I made Kim hold her head still for a minute or so after each application, then packed in spray-soaked cotton balls as well.
"Will that really help?" asked April, wringing her hands as she stared at Kim.
"A little. It helped a lot of guys who were too close to explosions, once upon a long time ago. Ask Kim in a minute or so. If she can hear you, it helped."
April's head came up fast at my tone. She glared at me for a moment, then seemed to soften. "I deserved that. I let my temper get the best of me out there."
"I'd say your temper got the best of everybody," I said flatly. "I'll fix my windows tomorrow."
I turned to Kim and asked in a normal tone, "Kim, can you hear me?"
Kim looked up rather blearily and nodded. "Barely. It doesn't hurt as much now, but the ringing won't stop." She shook her head slightly and winced.
"It might take a day or three to completely stop." I placed the eyedropper and the spray near the glass and said, "Keep this stuff and use it when you need it."
I looked at April and considered my next words carefully. "April, I've never even envisioned slapping you or hitting you. Not because I know you could take me, either. But you managed to slap me. Does that mean I'm not allowed to have an opinion other than yours?"
April was silent for a few moments. "I'm sorry, Ed, but..."
"No buts. It's simple tyranny to slap someone who can't or won't slap back. I've seen enough of that sort of thing to know why it happens. Unlike a battered wife, I'm not going to accept the idea that it was my fault for having a different opinion. If you think Kim needs help, it's your privilege to provide it, but it's not your privilege to force me to do it."
"It was what you said and how you said it!" she almost yelled at me.
Kim held her ears and cringed from the sound. April held up her hands in apologetic concern.
"Shhh. You'll finish the job if you aren't careful," I said. April glared at me. I turned to Kim and said, "It's way late. Go to bed. In your own room. You can hit the road tomorrow."
Kim said, "You're just too kind," in a sarcastic tone as she rose from her chair.
That was it for me.
"You should have kept your mouth shut that time, lady. You just talked yourself out of some sleep. Stay put."
I went upstairs and found the briefcases. I set the cases on the kitchen table and said, "Check your money, then get out. Now. Go find another place to crash and a good therapist. That sort of thing isn't in my job description any more."
I was walking to the stairs when April appeared in front of me, blocking my path.
"You're being pretty goddamned unreasonable," she said.
"Somebody used snide comments and suppositions to wear my warm, fuzzy feelings down to a nub, and then somebody else slapped them completely out of me."
"It won't hurt to let her stay until tomorrow, Ed."
"What's the point, April? She'll be up all night wondering when I'm going to come for her."
April seethed for a moment and was about to say something else when Kim said, "Please stop fighting. I'm sorry. I'll leave tonight. I don't know what else to say."
She opened one of the briefcases, pulled out a bundle of bills, and set it on the table.
With a look at me, she said, "That's for helping me out today. Thanks." She then headed over to the phone.
I walked back in the kitchen and picked up the money. Kim looked around when she heard the briefcase locks.
I tossed the money inside the case and said, "Don't say anything else, Kim. Just go upstairs and go to bed. We'll discuss things tomorrow."
She started to say something. I held up a hand.
"Yes or no, Kim. Nothing else. I mean it."
"Yes."
"Go, then." I pointed at the stairs. Kim gathered her stuff and went.
April came over to me and asked, "Why? You knew I'd have taken her with me."
"She said she was sorry and proved it. Each bundle is ten thousand, and she's been guarding her treasure pretty well all day. Offering that much of it for as little as I did seems sincere enough to me. It also bothered her that she was the reason we were arguing."
"What happens tomorrow? The first time she says something you don't like?"
"If she stays, that might happen. If it does, she'll hear about it. At least now she may actually be examining her preconceptions to see if they really apply to me."
"That really upset you, didn't it?"
"Betcherass it did. I meet the world one-on-one and expect the same from the world. Like me or don't, but not merely because of gender, race, or other stupid generalizations. Anyone who insists on using criteria like that is a non-thinker, beneath my social consideration as intelligent company."
"So, are you trying to make her stop thinking all men are slimes?" April grinned.
"I want her to make an exception for me, that's all. I don't give a damn about the other men."
"And why does it matter what this woman thinks of you? Yesterday she was a stranger. Could it be you're simply attracted to her?"
"It could," I said rather flatly.
"You admire her, too. She endured a lot for the safety of her family."
"Yup. And when a time came that she could do something, she did it."
April laughed, "Yeah. She marched you out of there at gunpoint."
"That counts. She didn't know I'm an enhancee. And she had the presence of mind to take the money instead of just running blindly out of there."
"Let's put that under 'resourcefulness' for the time being. We can add it up later, Ed. I have something to do back at the office."
"It can't wait till tomorrow? I was kind of hoping..."
April smiled at me. "Next time I'll stay over. Shift change is in less than an hour and I want to make sure of a few things." With that, she kissed me and lifted off my porch.
Chapter Eight
I napped until about eleven, but Kim didn't make an appearance until well after noon. I was eating pop-tarts and pouring my second mug of coffee when she came to the kitchen door.
She hesitated by the doorway, then came to put her two briefcases by the table and asked, "May I have some coffee before I go?"
"Cups are above the pot, fixings are near it."
She paused by the cabinet to scrub her teeth with the corner of a paper towel. I tossed my unopened newspaper on the table.
"Damn. Sorry, Kim. I'll find you a toothbrush. I should have thought of that last night. Back in a minute."
"You don't have to..." she began.
"No problem. I should have a couple of new ones in one of the boxes."
I left her to get herself some coffee and rooted up a travel toothbrush and paste. When I returned, she was still standing by the coffee pot. I could feel she had a question to ask, but she remained silent for the moment. I put the toothpaste and brush on the table and sat down.
"Want some breakfast?" I asked her.
She looked around the kitchen examiningly.
"No, I haven't cooked anything," I said, "I was rather hoping I wouldn't have to, really." I waved a pop-tart.
"Pop-tarts are fine," said Kim, but she made no move to come to the table.
"They're over here," I said, pushing the box to the middle of the table, "Self-service."
Kim still didn't move. She sipped her coffee for a moment and then asked, "Why didn't you take the money last night? Why did you let me stay after all that?"
"I don't need the money and you might. I let you stay because I felt like it."
"Why?"
"Drop it. No more questions about why I do anything. Figure it out on your own. Drink your coffee, eat your Pop-tart, and let's decide what needs to be done."
Kim came over and sat, fiddling with a packet of tarts for a moment before she asked, "Is April your girlfriend?"
"Only occasionally. Why?"
"Just curious. When I saw her land, I knew who she was. I was afraid she was here for me."
"Kinda figured that. Did you really think you could outrun her in my old Chevy?"
"I just ran. I thought... well, no, I didn't really think, I guess. I just ran."
"Figured that, too."
Kim opened the packet and pulled out a tart.
"She doesn't wear much, does she?"
"That's her uniform, ma'am. There isn't much to it because there isn't much of it."
"Huh?"
"The material. There isn't much of it on Earth. It's the only stuff that can survive being worn by those ladies. Everything else burns, rips, or just disintegrates."
"Oh. She's very beautiful, isn't she?"
"Yup. Very. They all are."
After munching some of her Pop-tart in silence, Kim said, "You can fly."
I didn't bother answering that. I just gave her a questioning look.
"Does that mean you're like her? Bulletproof, and all that?"
"That it does."
I finished my pop-tart and reached for another. Kim didn't say anything more for a while. I brought the pot over and refilled our mugs. Her eyes followed my hands, examining them closely.
"You, uh... you look..."
"What? Normal? Average? Not too weird? Can't judge a person by his or her skin, y'know. Gotta play fair."
Kim blushed, surprising me. It was slight, but it was there. She concentrated on her pop-tart for a while.
I scanned the paper for any mention of yesterday's events. After a while I noticed Kim staring at me.
"Something?" I prompted her as I looked back at her.
"I'm just trying to figure out what happened yesterday. I thought all of you were part of some government agency. Cops or close to it."
"They pretty much are. I used to be. Yesterday didn't happen because any government agency ordered or authorized it, if that's what you're wondering."
"So you were working alone?"
"I wasn't working," I said, "Alone or otherwise. Did you see me do anything other than kick DeeCee?"
"No, but..."
I interrupted her.
"No, period. You saw nothing but the bodies while you picked up the money. I see no reason to say a damned thing about it, Kim. I see no reason to talk about yesterday at all, except as how results of it might affect the future. Your future in particular."
Kim said nothing for a while as she slowly nibbled another pop-tart.
"Do you really think I'd ever tell anyone, Ed? You saved me from those bastards."
I looked directly at her and said, "I think you'd tell anyone whatever they wanted to hear if you were tortured or drugged or worried about your family again, but that's beside the point. I have no good reason to say anything about what happened in that room."
After a moment, she asked, "Why did you let me think I was in control yesterday? If you're like her, that gun shouldn't have meant anything to you."
I handed her my folding knife. She looked at it, then back at me.
I held out my arm and said, "Try to cut me."
Kim's reaction was to put the knife on the table.
"I'm serious, Kim. Try to cut me. You need to know what's truth and what isn't. This is a start."
When she made no move, I opened the knife and drove the blade down against my forearm hard enough to impress her without breaking the blade. Her eyes bugged a little, but she remained silent. I got the stone from the drawer and took a moment to resharpen my knife.
"Now you know for sure. I let you think you were in control to see if you were one of them. You didn't seem to be. You only seemed to want to get the hell out of there, but you knew right where the money was hidden and you looked ready to shoot. At the moment, all I have is your name and a story about personal slavery to work with, and the story could be complete bullshit for all I know. You may have been the brains behind the whole operation or you might only have been what you say you were. Because of what you said last night, I tend to think you were telling me the truth."
"So you really weren't going to throw me out?"
"Wrong. Until you apologized, you were on your way out the door. I wasn't kidding. I don't need that shit and won't take it. I'm nobody you ever knew before. I'm nobody's therapist and I don't like being included in groups. I'm not very fond of groups."
Kim looked down at her coffee, then up at me.
She softly asked, "Do I still have to leave, Ed?" as she looked up at me without raising her head much and nibbled her lip as if in anxiety.
I know that look. It's one that women use on men, but never on other women, who wouldn't buy it for a moment. It's the "little lost child" look, and she'd personalized it by using my name for the first time that I could remember since we'd met.
"Yes," I said. "You're leaving."
For the briefest moment there was mild shock and startlement in her face, then a look of resignation.
"I'll call that cab, then," she said, rising from the table.
"Want a better idea?" Kim just looked at me. "Let me call April," I said, "And you can make arrangements to get your family moved while you tell her what you know about Ice's contacts and business. Pick a place and you'll be moved there. Stash the money right and you'll live well. Your brother and your kids will have college money."
As if she'd heard nothing, Kim just stared at me.
I sighed. "If your story is true, Kim, you need her help more than mine. When I offered you sanctuary yesterday, it was before I knew how April would handle yesterday's events and before I heard how you feel about men in general. As I said, I'm no therapist."
"What if I told you I don't think that way about you anymore? I overheard what you told her last night about meeting the world one-on-one and all."
"Overheard?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Overheard. I was going to the bathroom and stopped to listen. Sorry."
"Then you know I'm attracted to you, and no matter what else goes by, you'll be expecting me to try something, sooner or later, and you'll be ready to drop into your standard responses. I wouldn't be able to say 'I like that outfit' or 'let me help you with that' without having you think 'Uh-Oh, here it comes', would I?"
"No. It wouldn't be like that, Ed."
"Bull. You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, Kim, and you've been a pleasure slave and gofer for Ice for the last several years because of those looks. To you, they've been what got you into that trouble, a liability more than an asset. Tell me true; did you ever consider messing up your face so he'd think about letting you go?"
She was absolutely silent for several moments, staring into her coffee.
"It wouldn't have worked," I said, "The rest of you is gorgeous, too, but even if it weren't, you're female and marketable, so he'd have just hooked you on drugs and sold you on the streets. You know they don't let go. There was no way out of there, and you knew it, so there was no point in marring yourself. Your beauty was the reason for your slavery and you've learned to hate it. You'd feel as if you'd traded one prison for another, especially if your family came here, and even more so if you felt they had to stay here to be safe."
"I don't think so, Ed. It wouldn't be anything like how things were with Ice."
"Your family would be here for safety. You'd believe, down deep, that you were here because I found you attractive. You'd be afraid that every night could be payback night. How would it be different? Because we're out here in the country instead of downtown? I still say you should get with April. You could believe her motives, but not mine."
After a long silence, Kim said, "If you'll call her, I'll go talk to her." I nodded and handed her another tart.
As it happened, April wanted a few words with me, too, so I drove Kim to the office, stopping along the way to let her get a safety deposit box at a bank.
When she returned to the bank's lobby, she handed me one of the briefcases and said, "Here. I don't think I'll need two briefcases."
I took it with thanks and wondered what the hell I'd do with a briefcase. When I put it in the trunk she said she'd keep hers with her in case there would be a use for something larger than a purse in the future.
Kim had opened a checking account and a debit-card account with some of the money.
"The woman asked if I wanted to apply for a credit card," she said with a small grin, "And I really didn't want to tell her that much about my job situation."
When we arrived at April's office, April introduced Kim to Doris, who would be handling matters. Doris and I shared a moment of tenseness, then exchanged simple hellos at a distance.
April then turned Kim over to Doris and took me into her office, closing the door behind us. She handed me a folder and told me to have a look inside it.
It was the initial report on the Ice incident that termed the affair to have been an internal dispute, likely triggered by the usual drug-gang reasons. It also said that I had taken the secretary (pictured for the record, driver's license photo used) out for the day and that she had spent the night with me. That was all of it.
"Gee," I said, "They must think I have excellent taste around here."
April smiled and said, "A few think you're just a womanizer, Ed. Those who know you're enhanced think you knew something was going to happen and took her out of there to protect her, and that opinion is bolstered by the fact you brought her here today."
"Thass me," I said, "Hero at large."
April made a wry face at me.
"Don't get a swelled head yet, Mr. Hero. A few of us know what happened."
I met her gaze. "Guesses don't count," I stated flatly. "What's the bottom line, here?"
April took the folder back and sat down, indicating that I should do the same.
'Fine,' I thought, 'We'll all sit down so you can practice your interviewing skills.'
April released a heavy breath and said, "We were able to dig up some unpaid traffic tickets as an excuse to serve a warrant this morning, which allowed us to discover the bodies before they'd ripened too much. You got away with it, Ed. Case closed."
It felt as if I was supposed to ask, "But..?", but I didn't. I waited silently.
After several moments, April continued with, "We think the same thing happened on the road near Brownfield."
I still felt no compulsion to say anything. I waited for April to continue.
"They were both multiple felons who linked up in Amarillo, apparently. The car was stolen. It looked as if they'd shot each other in an argument. The police bought the story they found in the physical evidence and closed the case. Any comments?"
"I can't think of any, April. The cops took my statement at the scene."
April sat gazing at me for some moments, her elbows on her desk, steepling her fingers and tapping them together as she contemplated me.
After a while, she asked, "Why did you do it? You're enhanced. You could have just held them for the cops."
"You're assuming I did something, April. You're in law enforcement. You know that speculation means nothing unless there's evidence, and there's no such evidence."
"You're stonewalling, Ed. You're stonewalling me, of all people. Why?"
"Don't try to make it personal while you're holding this office, April. If I'd actually had any role in those peoples' demises, I couldn't admit it. Not even to you."
April stood up and leaned across the desk.
"Damn it, Ed!" she whispered, "You can't just go around killing people, deserving or not! Sooner or later you'll get caught!"
I remained seated. "Lovely weather we're having," I said, "Kinda warm, though." I paused. "Last night you said there was no difference between Aktions and thugs."
"That was just my personal opinion, Ed. Today I'm looking at police reports and realizing that if you slip even once, you'll be one of the people on my wanted list, not because of what you may do, but what you are. They wouldn't risk sending regular cops after you, Ed. You're an enhancee. They'd hand it to me. This office in this agency. Me, damn it!"
When I sat without speaking long enough to pass her threshold of patience, April asked me in a rather formal voice if she was keeping me from anything, then held up the Black Ice case file and informed me that she had work to do, even if I didn't.
In an equally formal voice I thanked her for her time and her concern and left.
I checked in at Doris's office to say goodbye to Kim and headed down the hall to the elevators. About halfway there, a man stood in the doorway of his office and simply stood staring at me as I passed.
It was Jim Marek, the father of the girl Black Ice had drugged and filmed. He looked as if he might step out to say something, so I glanced both ways and shook my head 'no'.
He understood and stayed put, but he smiled and quickly touched his fingers to his forehead in a small salute. I smiled and saluted back before continuing on.
As I passed the main desk, the secretary smiled at me and handed me the rose from the small vase on her desk. She said nothing, but her gaze was steady.
"What's this for?" I asked, taking the flower.
The secretary smiled at me and said, "Oh, nothing. I just had an extra today."
I looked at the empty vase and back at her.
"I see. Well, thanks. Nobody's given me a rose for quite a while."
She gave me a small wave and a smile as the elevator doors closed. I waved and smiled back. The woman already on the elevator saw who was waving and looked at the rose, then at me.
"Your girlfriend?" she asked, looking at my left hand.
"No," I said, "Just a friend. Here. I don't really know what to do with flowers."
She hesitated to take it.
"You put them in water... oh, you don't work here?"
"Used to. Just visiting today. This rose will last about a minute on my dashboard."
She took the rose and studied it as if it might somehow be special. When she disembarked on the next floor, she turned to study me for a moment.
I studied her in return. Long legs, pretty face, too skinny for my taste. I smiled at her as the doors closed. There was surprise on her face. I hadn't taken her cue. Sorry, ma'am. No lunch date.
The police report had made no mention of a Cadillac in the building and I hadn't felt it appropriate to ask about either the car or its driver.
What would a DeeCee-type do if he woke up and found all his friends had apparently shot each other?
Guys like him were the perennial sycophants of the world. The court jesters and gofers who usually were the first to depart a sinking ship, but who might surprise you with death-defying loyalty.
I felt I had to find out how DeeCee was reacting to his sudden unemployment, so I drove to the scrap yard and found the owner in his office.
"You're alive!" he said.
He stood up and came around his desk for a closer look.
"Yeah, I'm alive," I said, "I just came by to have somebody who knows more than I do have a look at my A/C. It hasn't worked all day." I didn't bother to tell him I hadn't turned it on.
The yard owner glanced around and asked, "That woman ain't with you, is she?"
"Nope. She left me today while we were downtown."
He looked relieved. "Damn," he said, "You sad or glad? She sure was good-lookin'."
I laughed. "What do you think? Our first date began with a gun in my back."
"No shit. That was a machine gun, too. I seen 'em before. Bad news. Now I gotta real question for you. Are you plumb fuckin' crazy?"
"Not last time I checked. Why?"
"Don't you know what went on aroun' here yesterday? People were lookin' for you!"
"If you mean the cops, they found me. Anybody else?"
"Well, no, nobody else, but ain't that enough? They carried Ice and three of his boys outta there."
"Yeah, I heard about that. Hope one of them was the dumb fuck with the Cadillac."
The fishing had begun.
"Nope, he wasn't in the pile. Ol' DeeCee left a little while after you did. He pulled out and drove away real careful-like. That's probably why I noticed him. He usually don't go anywhere without burning rubber. Usually likes to be noticed, that one does."
I gave the owner a thoughtful look. "You don't think he could have..?"
"What, shot all them people? DeeCee?" The guy laughed. "Shee-it! DeeCee, he's all show and tell. Gold chains and a big, fancy car and bullshit about what a big man he is. Lets people think he's from D.C. as in Washington, but fact is, he's just a bigmouth farm nigger from one'a the Carolinas. He never been nothin' but Ice's step'nfetchit boy. Anyway, the cops think they all shot each other in some kinda fight."
I chuckled. "Yeah, I knew some DeeCee's in the Army. He's probably already sucking up to a new sponsor."
"No shit. It ain't likely he'd go lookin' for a real job. He's prob'ly tryin' to figure a way to get in with Billy B if he's even still in town."
"What's a Billy B?" I asked, although I knew.
"Just another asshole dealer like Black Ice. Prob'ly gonna take over Ice's turf, now. I just hope he don't open up shop in Ice's place over there. Ice only charged me a couple hundred a week to stay open. Them Voodoo Rastas make you bleed."
The phone rang, interrupting our chat. After he hung up, he buzzed the back to have one of his mechanics take a look at my A/C, and I excused myself to watch.
The mechanic glanced at me now and then as he worked, but he said nothing until he realized that the heater core was the one from the V-6 instead of the V-8.
"Why you didn't change out this, too, man? Shoulda took the whole system. This ain't gonna do the job, man."
He arranged to have someone pull the core from the same car that supplied the radiator and began unfastening the one in mine.
"Why you here, man? You could get this shit done anywhere. Be lots of yards with old cars aroun' town."
"Closer, cheaper, had the parts," I said, "Nearest other place with the right cars on hand was in Plano. And I don't care about skin color, if that's what you mean. Fixed is fixed."
He grunted and finished pulling the heater core.
Setting it aside, he said, "Like you just said, man, fixed is fixed. I got a wife an' two kids an' I only live a couple blocks away. I work on cars an' I can't afford to move, an' if I could, it would just be to another place like the one I'm livin' in now."
He paused as he cleaned the hose connections.
"I got a feelin' you had somethin' to do with what happened to Ice, man. If you did, I just wanna say thanks. If you didn't, well then, it don't matter a damn what I think, right?"
"I wouldn't feel comfortable saying anything about what happened to Ice," I said.
He looked at me for a moment and nodded.
"Uh-huh," he said, " 'S cool, man."
Once upon a time, maybe as late as the nineteen-thirties, the area had been rural, about five miles from downtown Dallas.
Oil, cattle, and electronics had allowed the city to expand considerably, engulfing land up to as much as twenty miles in all directions, but that expansion hadn't quite wiped out all traces of the past.
Windmills and water towers still sparsely dotted the landscape, even in town. Very few of the windmills still worked. Most were just towers with a few scraps of blades left that screeched in the wind.
The forty-foot high water towers around town all looked as if the same company had made them. The tower was made of steel and the tanks were made of wood slats, banded with three or more one-inch-thick steel circlets and capped with shallow, conical sheet-metal roofs.
One such water tower stood in the middle of the scrap yard. I asked the owner about it.
He said, "My Pa sold the windmill fifty years ago to some farmer. The tank hasn't held water since before I was born. I had a guy cut the ladder off it twenty years ago. Kids was playing in it, and I was afraid one would fall and get me sued."
"Ever think of tearing it down? There's probably enough steel to make it worthwhile."
"Not that stuff. Steel? It's damn near just cast iron. Cheap crap. Cost more'n it's worth."
I tossed a rusty bolt at the tower. It went through the gap left by a missing slat and scared the living hell out of what appeared to be a hundred pigeons who all tried to get out of the tank at the same time.
It would be a mess in there, but if the Rastas took over Ice's place, the tower might have just the view I wanted of the building across the street. When the car was done I drove home to give matters some thought.
Chapter Nine
I half-expected April to drop by in the afternoon or evening, if only to reiterate her warnings. She didn't appear by nine o'clock, so I turned on the TV and looked for something worth watching.
A rerun of "Star Trek:Voyager" was starting, so I decided to watch Captain Janeway save the universe, or at least her ship, yet again. I hadn't always liked the show's scripts, but I'd always liked Captain Janeway.
Doris had often teased me for watching "Star Trek", but I'd told her that the Captain Janeway character set a good example for women. She had a pretty good job and her own transportation, after all.
About halfway through the show I felt someone coming. It wasn't April or Doris. I had their "signatures" on file, so to speak, in my head.
A light thump on the front porch preceded the ringing of the doorbell, but by then I knew who it was.
As I got up to go to the door I said, "It must be important to drag you all the way to Texas, Sara."
"When you can be anywhere on the planet inside ten minutes," she said, "The world is your neighborhood. Are you going to invite me in or not?"
"Oh. Sure." I held the door open as she strode in, "What's the occasion?"
"You are," she said, "Or rather, your activities of late."
Sara glanced at the TV, then gazed oddly at me for a moment. Captain Janeway had a pensive look as she contemplated the alien menace off her port bow, then she issued some orders and a battle was joined.
"Oh, cool! I like this show. Got another beer?"
Sara plopped on the couch.
"Just make yourself at home," I said.
Sara glanced up at me. "Thanks, I will. Hurry up. The commercials don't last long."
I thought about shaking her beer before handing it to her, but I didn't. The show was coming back on. I could always shake her next beer, if there was one.
We settled in to watch the last half of the show. My easy chair is directly across the room from the TV. The couch is against the wall on the right.
Sara stretched herself out on the couch and propped her head on her arms, occasionally reaching for her beer with a surprising grace of movement.
When the commercials interrupted the show again she snarled something caustic about the interruption and crossed her ankles. The motion caught my attention.
Those damned uniforms were less than some bikinis, and Sara was every bit as superbly structured as April. Hell, they could almost be clones of each other.
My eyes roamed over Sara's body from head to toe. I was gazing at her legs and comparing them to April's when she glanced up and noticed my inspection of her.
Sara gave me a small grin. "Like what you see, Ed?"
I met her grin with one of my own.
"Of course. I've never once said I didn't."
She raised one leg and pointed her toes at the ceiling. "April always said legs were your particular fascination. Is that true?"
"Pretty much, yes."
"Are mine as good as hers?"
"Historically, men stupid enough to compare goddesses out loud end up suffering horribly, but I'd say your legs are at least equal to April's."
Sara laughed at that and let her fingers trail from her knee downward along her thigh as she lowered her leg to a cocked position that accentuated the thigh muscles. Her eyes flicked toward me to gauge my reaction.
She grinned again. "So tell me, Ed...be honest, now... If all I wanted from you was a good ride with no strings, would you go for it?"
"No control games, no strings, really? Just mutual fun? You could actually do that?"
"Smartass. Yeah. I could do that. Just us. You and me. No games."
I pretended to give the matter deep, vast thought. Sara rolled her eyes at my delay and spread her hands in a 'Well? What's it gonna be?' sort of look.
"If I could really believe that, Sara, I'd be wrapped around you like a second skin."
Sara giggled. "That's pretty tight," she said, as the show was coming back on for its final segment.
She got back into TV viewing position and said, "Let me think about it, then."
'Think about it?' That made me laugh aloud. Sara gave me the finger without looking away from the TV.
Captain Janeway wadded up the problem and disposed of it in the allotted ten minutes.
As the credits rolled, Sara held up her empty bottle and asked, "Spare another beer, mister?"
Her gaze fell to the front of my pants as I started to get up. She smiled and said, "Oh, my... Maybe I'd better get it myself, huh?"
I glanced down. Unnoticed by me, a certain swelling had occurred. Just realizing it had happened and that it had been noticed made it swell a bit more, of course.
Sara laughed and said, "I'll take that as a compliment, Ed. Be right back."
While she was gone I let myself wonder why this visit was happening. I didn't particularly enjoy Sara's company. She was a hard, ambitious woman with a mission that would include the whole damned world if she could arrange it so.
Her humor was often cruder than the stuff I'd heard in the barracks. She was generally irritating as hell to be around. We shared nothing in common.
Well, only almost nothing, apparently... A TV show, April, and a case of the hornies were all I could think of at that moment.
Sara sat the beers on the coffee table and turned around to say something just as I was cranking my chair forward.
She was over six feet tall and wearing three-inch heels, so my nose bumped hard against her just where her thighs met under that almost-nothing uniform.
It jarred her enough that she had to half-step backward to keep her balance. When she brought her foot back even with the other, they were shoulder-width apart.
"Ooohhh," she said.
I looked up and saw Sara grinning down from one of those hands-on-hips poses.
"Such enthusiasm," she said, "I love enthusiasm."
She waggled her fingers in the air as she had in the lab cafeteria and said, "Do me, mister, do me."
Sara hooked her thumbs under the shoulder straps of her uniform, spread the straps beyond her shoulders, and let the uniform fall. It wound up as a puddle of fabric around her ankles.
There was a hint of wetness forming in the blonde patch between her legs and the scent of wildflowers and honey wafted across the six inches or so between us and into my face.
At least it didn't seem as if she'd called that feature up to manipulate me this time. The dampness there gave her own need away and called to me. Loudly.
I tested that dampness with a finger, which made her twitch slightly and gasp softly, then I made a production of tasting my finger as I smiled up at her.
Sara's grin grew bigger as I reached with both hands to grasp the backs of her thighs and pull her blonde bush forward to meet my tongue.
At my first long lick she sighed and the dampness seemed to flow more heavily from her even as I licked it away. I kept at her until her breathing was as labored as a runner's, then paused briefly to gather all her sensations into myself.
When I leaned into her to take another long lick, I fed those captured sensations back into her with my own. Sara gasped through clenched teeth and then shuddered in ecstasy.
I collected that sensation too, and began bouncing everything I captured back to her until her legs wobbled and she had to brace herself on my shoulders.
Sara's dam seemed to burst over my lips and chin as she came. I made every effort to capture it all, then reached for more. She came again, this time with a small scream.
The third time she came, she lost her balance and half-sat, half-fell backward across the coffee table, which by some miracle didn't itself collapse.
As she lay panting I went to my knees and licked her thighs as I fumblingly worked to get my pants down.
As soon as my dick sprang free, I pushed the head of it just inside her and kissed her breasts and belly.
"My turn, Sara," I said softly, then I slowly shoved it into her to the very hilt.
Her fingers spread wide and she took a hissing breath as something had to move aside within her, then she raised her legs to wrap them around my waist.
I fondled her thighs and marveled for a moment, as I always seemed to do, that so much of me could disappear inside a woman, then began moving. Sara matched my strokes and used her heels to pull me into her in hard thrustings.
She almost whisperingly said between strokes, "April said-you were-afraid you'd-forget who-you were-fucking. Ooohhh- that's-good. That's-so-good..!"
"Maybe April-tells you-way too-damned much," I said. "And I-doubt-she used-the word-'fuck'."
Sara laughed softly and gripped the edges of the coffee table to keep from sliding as we pounded together. I hadn't been with a woman since my last romp with Doris, so it felt as if a dam of a sort were about to burst inside me, as well. I added these feelings to the pile and fed them into Sara.
She groaned a little and her fingers crunched the edges of my hardwood table as those sensations flowed into her. They were returned to me as a feeling of great longing, having been translated somewhat by Sara's feminine perceptions.
I added her translation to the mass of sensations that I was building for us and continued to stroke myself solidly into her.
One of Sara's hands flailed momentarily, and in it were fragments of my table. Sara gazed at the fragments in glassy-eyed surprise, then looked at me with the same expression.
Her expression became almost a question in itself, a sort of 'How can you be doing this to me?'-look.
Sara was the taker, the controller, the manipulator. To her, lovers were just people who did as she asked or demanded in order to please her.
Sex to Sara was just a fun way to pass the time, full of peaks and squeaks and happy little groanings and occasional rushes; a warm, wet way to have a good time and let off some steam.
She'd expected a good time, but what was happening within her definitely wasn't what she was used to.
Her pheromones gushingly flooded and overwhelmed me and suddenly I wanted to be nothing less than the best lay of her life.
I searched her depths for more sensations to add to my own coming explosion within her and gathered them into readiness for that moment.
Combining the physical presence of my dick deep within her and all the sensations I'd garnered from both of us during our session, I pulled Sara's face up to mine and kissed her hard as I began to come, blasting the rush of sensations into her only a split-second before I was compelled to drive deep and splatter my essence inside her.
Sara had been blankly staring like a big-eyed rag doll and simply using her legs to pull me hard into her until those sensations rushed into her and I kissed her.
She released a soft, sobbing moan, then broke our kiss to let forth a loud groaning that -- under other circumstances -- could as easily have been of agony. Her arms wrapped around me as she kissed me back and both her arms and legs locked me to her as I began to buck and spurt deep within her.
Sara groaned again several times as involuntary spasms rocked her and milked every drop out of me.
I couldn't have freed myself or pulled out of her even if I'd wanted to. I couldn't breathe and I was seeing stars from the pressure of her arms, but I was able to capture her new orgasms and feed them back into her along with my own. She screamed softly.
Sara's chin rested briefly on my shoulder, then her teeth sank into me as she groaned and spasmed again, and she seemed about to crush me in her embrace.
I squirted the last remnants of my orgasm into her and hoped like hell she wouldn't really hurt me in her dazed state. My true strength was like that of a kitten's against hers and I knew it all too well at that moment.
I was absolutely helpless in her grip for what seemed an interminable few minutes.
Her arms and legs began to tremble, so I leaned forward and placed my hands on the table to support us. That was a mistake. Sara's embracing grip on me came apart; she quickly fell away from me and slammed flat on her back on the table.
Her straight-ahead, unseeing, glassy stare seemed to pan the room above the table as her head rocked slowly from side to side.
From her parted lips came rhythmic, repetitive gaspings of 'Ah...ah...ah...,' as the aftershocks of her orgasm made her body twitch and buck and caused little spasms around my slowly softening dick that caused it to continue spasming inside her.
The muscles of her belly contracted in rhythm with her gaspings and the fingers of her left hand crushed the table edge again.
I suddenly sensed another presence in the room, and the room seemed to be flooding with the scent of wildflowers.
Looking around, I spotted April on her knees by the front door. She had one hand to her face and the other between her legs as she gasped for breath.
Staring disbelievingly at Sara, she spoke.
"M-my God," she said, "I felt her all the way downtown. At first I thought she was in some kind of real trouble, but by the time I got here... It was all I could do to land on my feet, Ed. She came so hard it made me come, too, but not the way she did. You really spiked her good, didn't you?"
Movement of my dick as I'd turned to look at April triggered another round of rollergasms within Sara.
April gasped and hugged her belly for some moments as the emanations of Sara's orgasms reached her, then she straightened and came over to stand beside the table, staring down at Sara's sweat-glistening form.
Sara noticed nothing as she spasmed again a few times. April bit her lip and held herself as her own belly tried to heavingly mimic Sara's.
"Wow," said April softly, "She looks as if she had a short-circuit or two. Or three."
"Hope so," I said, "I surely tried."
I was still imbedded in Sara, but that didn't seem important to April. She gave our connection a cursory glance and kissed me deeply, then pried Sara's fingers from the edge of the table, holding her hand and stroking her arm.
Sara seemed to be coming around. Her eyes found and tried to focus on April and smiled sweetly at April for a moment. Then her gaze found me.
Her eyes widened, then widened some more as she realized I was still inside her. I felt a rush of panic from within her. Sara's legs had fallen away, but now one rose rather unsteadily. She put her foot on my chest and shoved almost feebly.
My dick slid out of her with a damp, sucking sound and stood drying in the breeze as I fell backward against the easy chair. Sara tried to sit up. April looked confused, but helped her to a sitting position on the edge of the table.
Sara stared at me for a moment before the stare morphed into a solid, burning glare.
I reached for her hand, but she shrieked, "NO! Don't you dare even think of trying to touch me!" and yanked her hand back. I glanced at April.
April shrugged, gave me a questioning look, and put a hand on Sara's shoulder. Sara shrugged the hand off and tried to stand up. Her legs weren't working quite right yet, but she made it to her feet on the third try.
She screamed at April, "You knew that would happen, didn't you? You knew, and you sent me here anyway."
April asked, "Knew what, Sara? I knew you could get your bells rung, yeah. What the hell are you talking about? What's wrong? You wanted him for years and you finally got him!"
Sara felt something between her legs and spotted some of my stuff leaking out of her. She looked for something to wipe with, but there were no napkins.
"G-God-D-DAMMIT!" she screamed, sobbing as she grabbed my shirt and ripped it off me to wipe herself.
She then grabbed her uniform off the floor and fumbled with it until it was pretty much in place.
I was pretty thoroughly confused at that point.
Sara stood shaking with rage, glaring at each of us for a moment, then she left without another word.
She lifted only a few inches, leaned forward slightly, and went through the screen door as if it weren't there, which, in fact, it wasn't, after she went through it.
The implosion of her high-speed departure made a sound that shattered the TV screen and the front windows. Loose items in the room tried to follow in her wake, and the one surviving beer bottle on the floor exploded in a foamy mess.
After a moment, I turned to look at April. She was still staring after Sara in a sort of shock, eyes wide and mouth open. When her face turned to me, her mouth snapped shut and she surveyed the mess that had been my coffeetable and two beers.
I packed myself back into my jeans, retrieved a mop, broom, and dustpan, and we began cleaning up the broken glass and wood fragments in silence. When I had put everything away, I brought a couple of beers out to the living room and handed one to April.
Rather defensively, I said, "I was just trying to please her, April. I gave her what she wanted and when she wanted more, I gave her that, too. I did my best, and I thought she was enjoying herself."
"I know damned well she was enjoying herself," said April. "You two were broadcasting lust for miles."
"Well, she's not enjoying herself now. Why?"
"I think I'd like to talk with Sara before I try to answer that, Ed."
"April, she said you sent her to me. What the hell was that about? Did you actually send her out here?"
April looked at me and seemed to be considering what to say next.
"For the past few weeks," she began, "Ever since you left the lab, that is... Well, Sara has been a bitch on wheels around the place. It got to the point that one of the senior techs complained to me, and if you've ever met Morrison, you'll know that things got pretty damned bad before he said anything, because Morrison practically worships Sara. After a series of minor negative events in the lab one afternoon a few days ago, Sara decided she needed to get out for a while. The interior blast doors opened about six inches and stuck. Sara went ballistic. Literally ballistic. Both sides of the interior and one side of the exterior doors have to be replaced. The last we saw of her, she was heading straight up into space. They couldn't even track her on the big screen. She returned this afternoon, came straight to my office, and cried for half an hour."
April paused and drank some beer.
I prompted her with, "Did she say what was wrong?"
"Not what," said April. "Who. You. You've been driving her nuts."
"What was driving her nuts, April? What the hell did I ever do to her?"
April laughed. "Nothing. That's just it. Nothing. In her own words: 'I did everything but lick his dick and he ignored me. He just drove away'."
"That's a rather massive exaggeration," I said, "At most, she leaked pheromones at me."
"Yeah, I know that. But she feels that way, whatever happened or didn't." April took another swig of beer. "You rejected her, Ed. Got any idea how often that's ever happened to her?"
"I can guess. You're saying she couldn't stand hearing the word 'no'?"
"She took it kind of hard, Ed. 'How dare you refuse?' and all that. Sara ripped your reasons apart for an hour, then cried some more. They sounded like tears of wounded pride to me, and I said so. Boom! She was in my face for another half hour about how I couldn't possibly understand what she was going through."
I sipped my beer and thought a moment, then said, "I figured she'd just realize I wasn't interested in her and use one of her other playmates. After all, it isn't as if she can't just snap her fingers..."
April interrupted me. "Exactly. But when she snapped them at you, you didn't come running."
"Tonight wouldn't have changed that," I said, "You know that, right?"
"That's immaterial," said April, "Maybe she just wanted to nail you at least once so she could tell herself she hadn't failed completely. This was probably supposed to finally add you to her list."
"I guess that means that reaching inside her and drawing out her deepest urgings was kind of the wrong thing to do, huh? It sure seemed to take the superficiality out of it for her."
April rolled her eyes and made an 'Oh, my god!' face at me. "That's an understatement," she said, "Sara completely lost control. I figure you tickled up her animal, Ed. It tied her up in the back room of her mind and took over. It made her mindlessly fuck as if she'd been desperate to make a baby. If Sara's ever felt that way before, I'm unaware of it. It probably scared the hell out of her, Ed. A total lack of control."
"Correction. I scared the hell out of her."
"Correction, yourself, sir. She scared herself. She got what she thought she wanted and it got way out of hand. Now Sara has to face herself or blame someone else. Hello, Mr. Someone Else."
She paused to sip beer, then said, "Have you noticed that for all our superness, we're as human as anyone else? We sometimes want what we can't or shouldn't have and suppress some things about ourselves and even blame others when we should be blaming ourselves. Some women become slaves to the animal inside, Ed. All women know it's there, whether they're willing to admit it or not. Most women try to feed it now and then to try to keep it from rattling the cage and screaming all the time."
"Jesus," I said, "There has to be a way to simplify this kind of crap."
April laughed. "I don't think there is. With you, I can let my animal out to feed until it's bloated, then roll it back in its cage while it's still all stuffed and happy. Sara's never really even truly acknowledged hers until tonight, I think. She's glimpsed it like a ghost at times when she's felt unusually protective of someone or, for example, like the time she cried over that little girl who couldn't be saved with the rest of the family in Salt Lake City, but she was able to write those glimpses off as natural concern for others. She's been denying her animal's existence. Seeing it in others, she likely decided she was stronger of mind and spirit than they were, myself included. Hell, maybe she has been, to get away with it so long. But tonight she met her animal nose to nose, and it ruled their encounter."
Chapter Ten
April paused a moment and then said, "She'll blame you for everything, of course. She may even think you were trying to gain control over her."
"A control freak like Sara probably would think that. So what now?" I asked April.
"Now you get me another beer," she said, "And we try to figure out if there's anything at all that you or I can do to smooth things out with Sara. She blames us both, at present."
I retrieved the beers and sat pondering something else altogether for a while. April had stretched out on the couch in about the same manner as Sara had in anticipation of a long talk.
I let my eyes follow the wondrous contours of her, lingering on her neck, shoulders, and legs in about that order. Between one moment and the next a small difference about her occurred, and I tried to figure out what it was for some moments before I spotted the tiny hairs standing up on her arms and neck.
I'd been so wrapped up in examining April that I hadn't noticed that she'd noticed me examining her out of the corner of her eye.
"Hey," she said, "You, in the chair. Yeah, you. You look at a woman so hard she can feel it, you know."
"I wasn't just watching you. I was admiring you thoroughly, detail by detail."
"Well, I'll be flattered as hell as soon as the goosebumps go away."
"Don't wait. Be flattered now." I smiled at her and drank some beer.
"Okay. I can do that," she said. "Now, about Sara..."
"I was thinking about that. Uh, her. The situation, that is. Not while I was licking you with my eyes, of course. Before that."
"Licking me with your eyes? Now, that must be flattery of some kind, I'm sure. So, what have you come up with concerning Sara?"
"Not a damned thing yet. I see no reason to do a thing, April. Total honesty, here... I don't like working with her or being around her in general. This event may have placed us at an unbridgeable distance, and I think I like that. Emergencies would override, of course..."
April pivoted herself to a sitting position, stared at me for a moment, then exclaimed, "I can't believe you just said that, Ed."
"Why not? One: I'm not fond of her personality. Two: I'm not responsible for her suppressing her animal, as you call it. Three: I'd rather keep her at a distance."
"A woman left here tonight in hysterics, Ed. My first and best friend here. If you want her to stay away from you, you can tell her after we've tried to help her straighten her head out. We are more than a little responsible for what happened to her here tonight."
"Okay. Fine. You're right, I guess, but I'd sure like to know how in hell you think I'm going to be able to help her. If I tried to go near her right now, she'd probably kill me or leave the planet to avoid me. You she might tolerate to some degree. Me? No way."
"You're probably right about that, at least for the time being," said April.
"Come up with anything else?"
"No. Not yet, anyway."
I set my beer down and stood to stretch.
"Look, April, I don't know what to do about any of this. It's a woman-thing, and it's an unusual variation of one at that. Sara's discovered her own personal demon and that's the kind of thing that's handled by the person who owns it. Nobody else can fix things for her. She has to find her own cure."
"So you'd just walk away from it? Leave her to deal with the mess we created?"
"I didn't say that, did I? But give me a problem I have some chance of solving if you really want a solution. Something broken that I can fix, you know? Just give me a starting point in all this and I'll see what I can do to make things better, but don't try to make me feel guilty for trying my best to please a woman who wanted me to do just that."
April made a sound of exasperation and sat up. She just looked at me without comment.
I said, "If all you said is true, Sara's facing her innermost needs and desires for the first time in her life. Heat and passion instead of whatever's been driving her until now. How am I supposed to deal with that or her fear of it? Gimme a break. I hate to tell you this, April, but I'm just a man who likes to please women. I'm not a psychologist."
"Obviously," said April rather archly, then, "Oh, hell, you're right, Ed. She has to get a handle on herself. We can't do it for her, but we should at least try to be there to help if we can. We'll have to play it by ear. What are you going to do if she comes back here?"
I laughed at that.
"Hide somewhere else? I can't outrun her."
April laughed, then blushed.
"Damn, I shouldn't be laughing about any of this. This situation could be serious, Ed."
"No doubt. Adolescence is enough of a bitch when you're a kid. Sara's not a kid anymore, and she's probably a little set in her ways."
"Adolescence..?" April's eyes got bigger. "It is, isn't it? It's something every other woman goes through when her cycles start. But we don't have cycles. We're only fertile when we want to be. Oh, no..! I have to find Sara quickly!"
She stood up, her beer forgotten. Her outburst made me stare at her.
"Wait a minute, April! Hold it! What the hell's the emergency?"
April's hands went to her belly and she stared at herself there. "You don't realize what may be happening to her, do you? Ed, if Sara's animal comes out again like that while she's with a man who hasn't been vasectomized, what's likely to happen?"
"Uh, oh... Wait, April. You let your animal out to play, but you don't get pregnant. I know you were with that guy from OPS for most of a month. You wouldn't have stayed if he wasn't a good ride. Was he fixed, too?"
"How the hell did you know about him? Oh, forget it. That doesn't matter right now. Ed, we can control our reproductive systems. Prevent egg release. But not if those systems control us. Our animals exist because nature created them to force us to use our eggs, damn it. If Sara nails an enhancee before she can install some mental protection, she could wind up being a mother."
"The poor kid," I chuckled. "Talk about domineering mothers... Oh, lordy, we have to do something, April. Those uniforms won't look quite the same on a woman who's preggers."
"It's not funny, damn it!"
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Sorry. Sort of. So, what do we do now?"
"You probably can't do anything until I can find her and talk with her."
"Okay, you look for her and I'll wait here. If she shows up, I'll try to get her to listen long enough to tell her what you've just told me. How's that?"
After a moment, April said, "That's probably all we can do." She noticed her beer on the table, picked it up, and took a thoughtful sip. "Be careful if she shows up here, Ed. If she's upset enough, she could hurt you."
"If she's upset enough to hurt me, she could as easily do worse, April. You're talking about her being damn near deranged if she's upset enough to hurt me or anyone else."
After a moment, April said, "Yes, I am. I remember how I was when my animal first appeared. I'll tell you about it sometime when we have a few days to spare."
"That bad, huh?"
"That bad." April finished her beer. "It was like PMS times fucking infinity, Ed. When an egg was released, just as with any other woman, I had a vast inner void screaming for fulfillment every waking moment. I was one hundred percent frustration on the hoof. They said the training devices that programmed us were incapable of installing the necessary shielding, but I always suspected that they deliberately left that aspect of us untouched, possibly as a means of testing us before releasing us."
"How would Sara have been able to miss that experience, April?"
"I don't know. I wouldn't have thought it possible, except that it appears to have happened, somehow. Until our last year of training, we had contraceptive implants that helped keep our reproductive systems from interfering with training. The implants were removed for that last year so we could get to know that side of ourselves. Hard physical training can disrupt cycles in women. Maybe it just never happened to her before her assignment came up."
"PMS," I said, "This gives an entirely new meaning to the term 'blooded troops', doesn't it? That's not a joke, by the way. If your biological drives have been magnified like the rest of your abilities, we're talking about something truly dangerous. I hadn't realized it before, but it would be a ready and reliable reserve of extended energy and power. That would explain why your strength magnifies so much when you're aroused."
April handed me her bottle and kissed me.
"Time to go," she said, lifting slightly and floating toward the front doorway. She inclined slightly when she reached the front porch and accelerated away so quickly that she seemed to disappear between one moment and the next.
I took another beer out on the porch to think. My first wife, back in the seventies, would turn absolutely vicious once a month due to PMS. She'd been raised to believe that women should be pillars of continence and constraint and that only men should initiate sexual activities or even admit to having needs. So, when the cycles hit her so hard that she had cramps for a week, she couldn't admit to needing to get laid at least once a day until things let up.
At least that's what she had told me years later in her post-enlightenment stage, after dating a gynecologist for six months or so. After we'd been divorced for a decade, of course. Long after her owning that bit of common sense could have done any good for our relationship.
Her GYN pal also told her that the reason she felt better after getting laid was partly physical and partly electrochemical.
He'd told her that the activity helped cure the cramps, and when the semen hit her inner walls, the electrochemical reaction it produced caused a temporary reduction in her production of the hormones that were driving her nuts.
He also told her that it had become commonly believed that PMS turned women mean because nature had decided there was a better likelihood that a challenging behavior would incite a male to respond aggressively. Theory had it that he would cap such an encounter with a sexual conquest.
In other words, a woman would simply piss off every man she met during that week of the month so that one would knock her down, then knock her up, and Mama Nature would be satisfied for another year or so.
Truth? Fiction? Absolute bullshit? Definitely not the PC view of things, true or not.
There really wasn't - and isn't - any way to intellectualize gender interactions, as the nature-resistant Victorians would have had us believe.
You can't think hunger, need for sleep, thirst, or any of the other biological urges away, so where the hell did mere humans get the idea they could ignore their primal urges to mate and reproduce?
What made people think they weren't as animalistic as any other animal on the planet? Yet they did come to believe that. From matters of birth to the end of life, Victorian thinking tried to pretend that we aren't really part of Earth's ecosystem and nature's domain.
Oh, well. Back to matters at hand. Sara might be having a super case of PMS and she was probably of the opinion that it was my fault. No amount of Midol was going to make things better for her or for me.
I remembered my first wife's tirades and smashed dishes and broken furniture and decided that I could be in some real danger, after all.
My wife had always stopped just short of assaulting me or the cats. Would Sara? She could put a locomotive into space, so I had no damned doubt she could do me some serious damage.
In case Sara should show up looking for me, I wrote her a note and placed it on the coffee table under a one-ounce fishing weight.
The note said: 'Sara: April says you're having PMS on a grand scale and that it isn't my fault. She also says that you shouldn't bunny-bang with anyone else until you get a handle on things or you might get pregnant. Sorry for stirring things up. Ed.'
I couldn't think of anything else to add, so I called Brenda to fill her in on things. April had already been there. Brenda seemed to lack sympathy for my plight.
"April told me," said Brenda, "I can't believe this, Ed. After all you said about not liking her, all Sara had to do was drop her drawers in front of you. Now this is happening. Can you say and spell the word 'stupid', or do you just act it out like a gorilla?"
"Hey! Thanks for your overwhelming concern, Brenda! Look, I'm worried about death and dismemberment, here. If I survive this, you can send me a goddamned dictionary with words of your choosing highlighted. Would you happen to have any other useful ideas?"
"Hide," she said, "Hide and wait. I can't think of anything else you can do, Ed. Do you really think she's so far gone that she'd hurt you?"
"I don't know. April doesn't know, either. What does that tell you, Brenda?"
"That means it could be very possible. What are you going to do, Ed?"
"I don't know yet. Hiding makes a lot of sense until you ask yourself where the hell I could really hide from one of those ladies."
"Find a crowd," said Brenda. "Be among other people all the time. Sara's still a Protector. She won't do anything while others could be hurt."
"Right. Sure. I remember once when my PMS-enraged first wife threw a dinner plate at the wall. It barely missed one of our cats. She was instantly consumed with remorse, but that wouldn't have done the cat any goddamned good if the plate had hit it. If Sara did something like that and someone was killed or injured, she'd never get over it, so I'm not going to be hiding in crowds, Brenda."
After a moment, Brenda said, "Well, then, maybe you aren't all that stupid, Ed. Sorry I blasted you. After all, it took two to screw things up this badly. I guess all I can say is 'good luck'."
When Brenda had hung up, I thought about things a bit more. PMS times infinity. Damn.
I dug out my metal stashbox and rooted through my personal remnants of other places and times until I found my first wedding ring, a quarter-inch-wide gold band, size eleven.
Using a pair of hemostats - another remnant of past life - to lift the ring out of its ziplock baggie, I sat staring at it for a few moments.
Thanks to my enhancement, I had the same main vulnerability as April and Sara. Gold acted like an energy-sink, weakening us by degrees at a distance or draining us quickly when in contact with it.
Just being within a few inches of gold made me feel queasy. Holding the ring up and examining both it and my idea, I felt my fingers tingling, then numbing, from exposure to it, even though I held it with hemostats.
It seemed to be soaking the energy out of me through my arm. I truly hated the idea of using gold on Sara.
Reservations and doubt overwhelmed me. Could I really do something like this to Sara? If April was right, Sara could be beyond reason and control. She'd be able to seriously injure or kill me.
The question then became 'could I?' in another sense. How in the hell could I dose Sara with gold without being just as exposed to it myself? It wouldn't do to be helpless at such a moment.
I dropped the ring back in the baggie, then back in the box, and moved well away from it until I no longer felt the effect. The ring wouldn't be enough by itself. I needed a few of ounces of gold, at least, and it was a little too late in the evening to go shopping.
Then it occurred to me that Black Ice and all of his accomplices had been wearing gold. Every one of them had been wearing a necklace or two or three, in some cases with large gold ornaments attached.
Gaudy ostentatiousness was part of their dress code, and any one of those heavy chains would provide enough gold for my purposes.
More than one gold chain would be even better. I might be able to rig some traps that would disable Sara at a safe distance.
I decided to immediately take a trip downtown and see if I could find a drug dealer. Or two. Or three.
No car this time. Just me. I lifted and drifted and soon realized that I was trying to see in all directions at once with all my senses. I leveled off about a hundred feet up and didn't hurry as I considered how to go about what I had in mind.
I was so engrossed in speculation that I almost missed the construction site as I passed over it. Doubling back the block or so, I landed and looked around.
There was a tangled wad of half-inch rope in the site dumpster. I hacked off ten feet or so of it and lifted again. Now I had a way to safely carry back any gold I might discover in the wilds of Dallas.
Black Ice had ruled the east side of downtown. I didn't want to shop around that area so soon after all that had happened, so I drifted south.
A huge, overdressed pimp-wagon of a car cruised the street beneath me. Its speakers were blaring that obnoxious noise that was called 'rap' and being passed off as music.
I followed it for lack of a better plan, backing off a hundred yards or so until the 'music' was only a distant, muted, thumping sound. At first I didn't notice the other car following it.
A black, four-door sedan remained approximately a block behind the pimp-wagon through all the turns and a couple of miles on I-45 south. I decided to have a closer look at it and dropped to within a few yards above it and slightly to one side.
There were two men in front, one in the back, and what appeared to be half a dozen gallon plastic gas cans on the back floorboards.
More interested than ever, I returned to my previous distance from both cars and followed them until the pimp-wagon turned into the parking lot of a club called "AfroSynTricks".
The black car passed the club entrance and turned around some distance up the street, then parked in a nearby lot, so I parked in a nearby tree where I could see both vehicles.
Three of the five men in the pimp-wagon got out on the passenger side and went into the club. They all had dreadlocks and dressed essentially the same in gaudy shirts and pants of a shiny material. All of them wore multiples of gold chains.
A few moments after the first three went in, another of them got out of the car and walked up to the front doors of the club. There he took something out of a bag and pulled a long dagger out of his coat. He pinned the something to the street-number sign on the wall with the dagger, then walked back to the car.
A few moments later the other three men came out of the club with a briefcase and got back in the car, then the pimp-wagon pulled out, heading back the way it had come. This time the black car didn't follow them. I decided to stick around to see what would happen next.
After a couple of minutes, someone peeked out the front door of the club to scan the parking lot. Not seeing whatever he was looking for, he cautiously stepped out onto the porch and looked around again. When he saw what was pinned to the sign, he froze momentarily, then dashed back inside.
Moments later, the club emptied in a rush of people running to their cars. There were a couple of minor fender-benders during the melee and horns blew almost incessantly, but within only a very few minutes there were only two cars left in the lot.
A young black woman standing by the doors looked back inside for a moment, then walked to one of the cars and started it. As she pulled out, her place at the doors was taken by a middle-aged black man who reached up and yanked the dagger out of the sign.
He slung whatever was on the dagger off it and into the darkness nearby, then lifted the dagger and yelled into the night, "You ever have the balls to come here in person, I'll stick your goddamned voodoo knife up your goddamned ass, Billy B!"
After a moment of glaring into the night, he retreated into the club.
As if on cue, the black car began moving again. It pulled into the warehouse lot next door and each man took two of the gas cans with him as they pushed through the separating hedge to the club parking lot and began running along the side of the building.
This was obviously about to become a case of arson. I dropped quickly down and redirected the last running man's path into the stucco wall as he ran alongside the building. There was a crackling noise from just above his shoulders and he dropped instantly next to the wall. The unopened gas cans tumbled through the high grass and weeds.
Zipping around the back of the club, I found one of the other guys hunkered over, facing the steel back door, opening his cans. I gave him a push that slammed his head into the back doorjamb hard enough to cause a satisfying crunching sound. He didn't move after he fell to the concrete porch.
The third guy had his cans open and was sloshing gasoline on the side of the building when I looped the rope around his neck and lifted him about thirty feet off the ground.
When he grabbed at the rope the gas can fell from his hands and split when it hit the ground. I let go of one end of the rope. His gasoline-soaked grip wasn't strong enough and he gaspingly followed the gas can down to land in a crumpled heap.
He landed poorly. He was broken somewhere but still conscious as he stared up at me. Then his stare turned to a glare and he swore at me as he showed me a plastic lighter and put his thumb on the lever.
I dove to try to stop him, realized I couldn't get there in time, and aborted the attempted interception in a hard bank to the left, flying fast along the side of the building and almost colliding with the man from inside the club. I jinked hard and missed him by inches.
The man was rounding the corner with a shotgun. When he saw me coming at him about six feet off the ground at high speed, he dropped flat on the ground as I passed over him inches from his face.
He got one round off in my general direction before there came a loud 'WHOOMPH' from behind him. The Rasta had flicked his Bic.
The club guy whipped back around at the sound and was knocked backwards by the muted blast of the other plastic container exploding a few yards from the building. I took the opportunity to double back fast and yank the shotgun out of his hands.
The Rasta was screaming. He couldn't get to his feet, so he just had to lay there and burn. I started forward, then stopped, realizing that I didn't really want to save him. The dumbshit hadn't figured on the other can blowing up. Now he was a crispy critter. Screw him.
The fire was now climbing the side of the building. I saw nothing to use to put it out, so I turned to see how the club guy had fared.
The club guy was lucky. He was able to stare at me through slitted eyes, blinking furiously as the tears rushed to re-dampen his eyes. Had he been only a little closer to the blast, he might not have had eyes to stare with. I dropped the shotgun into the grass and grabbed his shoulders.
"There's another one in back and one on the other side," I said, "I got them, but I couldn't stop this one. Let's do something about this fire."
When he didn't immediately respond, I shook him lightly and yelled, "Hey! Did you hear me? There are two more. Let's get this fire out!"
He shook his head and seemed to pull himself together to some degree. Not bothering to pick up his shotgun, he ran back around to the front of the building. I followed him as he ran inside.
He yanked a fire extinguisher off the wall, spotted me by the door and tossed it to me, then he grabbed another one from behind the bar.
I had already doused the Rasta and the grass and was emptying mine at the base of the fire when he arrived to add his to the efforts at the wall.
They weren't quite enough. The fire had gotten a toehold near the roof. He ran around the back and returned with a garden hose. I grabbed it and lifted about twenty feet to spray the roof and eaves first, then down the side of the wall.
A few moments of spraying the remaining patches of fire doused them all to steaming, smoking, blackened areas. We examined the mess to be sure the fire was out, then he twisted the nozzle to turn off the water and looked at me.
"Who..." he started, then, "No, what the fuck are you? Onea those aliens?"
"Uh, yeah, sort of," I said, "I think we should call 911 soon, don't you?"
"In a minute," he said. He looked around once more, spotted his shotgun, and went to pick it up. Holding it waist-high and pointing forward, he walked to the rear of the building to examine the body there, then walked along the side in the high weeds to have a look at the other body.
"Both dead," he said, "You don't fuck around, do you? Sorry I took a shot at you, man."
I smiled. "No biggie. You missed."
"No shit. It woulda been easier to hit a goddamned jet with a slingshot. I don't get many white customers, but you come on in, boy. You'll never have to buy a drink in my place, and if anybody messes with you, they're gonna be messin' with me, too."
With that, he turned and walked back to the front of the club. I took a moment to zip from body to body and remove their gold chains, using sticks to work the chains off over heads and hair and stringing them on the rope, then hanging the clunking mass on a high tree limb nearby before following him inside.
He was standing behind the bar near the phone.
I asked, "You called 911 yet?"
"Nope. Fire's out and none of them boys are goin' anywhere for a few minutes. Want a beer?"
"Thanks. Ice House, if you have it."
I took a seat at the bar. He put an Ice House beer in front of me.
He smiled and said, "You gonna tell me who just saved my bar and my ass?"
I smiled back. "Maybe some other time. I'm keeping a real low profile these days."
"Uh, huh. So you don't want me to say anything to the cops, then? How the hell am I supposed to explain all them bodies out there?"
I shrugged and grinned, pointing at the pillar behind him. There was a picture of him and a couple of other guys in uniform, sitting on sandbags somewhere.
"Take all the credit," I said. "Or tell them you don't have the slightest idea what happened. I don't really care which. I'm after some people who dropped in here a while ago and ran off all your customers. If you can't tell me where to find them at this very minute, it would probably help my efforts a bit if they didn't hear about my role in all this right away."
"I can't tell you where to look," the man said, "So best I just say nothin' about you. Maybe I'll just tell 'em I got no idea and things were like that when I went out there. They won't believe it, but who gives a damn?"
"That'll do fine," I agreed.
I drank the rest of the beer and set the bottle down. Almost instantly another appeared. I took the beer and headed for the doors.
"Thanks," I said, waving the beer back at him, "Fire fighting is hot work, you know."
He laughed, waved, and punched the numbers on the phone. "Y'all come back, now, y'hear? Free drinks and I'll introduce you around some night if you want."
I waved again as I was going out and said, "Okay. When some things are finished, maybe. Thanks again."
I retrieved the chains from the tree and let them dangle a few feet below me as I hovered within the tree to watch the street and the lot next door.
Only a few more minutes passed until a passing car slowed down in front of the club and slowed again in front of the lot next door, almost stopping before it sped back up and turned right at the next stoplight.
The driver had been aiming something out the passenger window as he passed. When the light had hit it right I was able to see that it was a video camera.
He went a block up the street, turned around, came back to the stoplight, and drove back past the club, again slowing down some as he filmed the area.
I drifted out of the tree and followed him, using trees and buildings for concealment along the way.
After a mile or so, he turned around again and went back for another look at the scene. By this time cops and firetrucks were there.
He filmed the scene but didn't slow down as he passed the area, and this time he turned left at the light. I continued flitting from tree to rooftop as I followed him to an elaborate condo-complex in North Dallas.
I was maybe twenty feet behind him, perched on a tree limb, as he walked up to the gate of one of the condos. He wore beaded dreadlocks and flashy clothes, but as he spoke into the microphone at the gate it became obvious he wasn't a Jamaican.
I stashed my chains high in the tree and continued watching him. He was buzzed through a second gate while a camera by the door watched his every move, then he went up the steps to the front door.
Someone inside relieved him of the camera and was ripping it open before the door closed. I heard the guy's sounds of protest from within. I moved closer.
"...I swear, William! I didn't see nothin'. Their car was there, but they wasn't!"
William? Could it be Billy B, himself, in there?
The guy was told to sit and be quiet. I peeked in and saw six Rastas hunkered around a television as they played the tape.
One of them pointed to something on the screen and yelled, "Stop!"
Someone stopped the playback and said, "Check out the big black place on the side of the building! Look down there on the ground!"
Somebody else chimed in, "That's one of them there on the ground! He be lyin' down!"
Everybody in there seemed to have some opinion about what had happened. The tape was restarted and played to the end again.
After a moment, one of them stood and walked to the bar to make a drink. He said nothing until the drink was assembled and he'd had a sip, then he spoke.
"Somehow they were stopped from completing the task I assigned them. We can't have that sort of thing, can we, my brothers? If a man won't pay us, he has to become an example, am I not correct?"
A ragged chorus of various agreements ensued.
"So we'll simply have to reschedule his demise. This time his doors will not open for him. He will remain to become part of an example to others."
There was another round of agreements. The man finished his drink and set the glass down.
"And we will observe first-hand this time. Phillip, tell Harold we will need two more cars. Any kind will do. One will be parked against the front doors. One will be parked against the back door. Please be sure he fills their tanks before we leave and that he puts two extra gas cans in each car."
The speaker then used the remote to change to a movie channel and set the VCR to record over the tape as he said, "We should give everyone time to finish taking their notes at the scene. Tell Harold to have the cars ready by tomorrow evening, Phillip, so he doesn't think he has to hurry. Now, my friends, let's all head down to the West End for a bit of entertainment."
Phillip dialed on his cell phone and headed quickly for the door, his enthusiasm very evident as he chatted with Harold. As he came out and almost ran down the steps, I followed along.
Phillip went across the parking area toward a small building and pressed the button on a keychain remote as he approached it. The garage's door rolled up and there sat the pimp-wagon I'd seen earlier. To its left stood a matchingly overdressed Harley. There were two one-gallon plastic gas cans to the left of the doorway.
As Phillip got in the car, I floated into the garage near the ceiling and yanked the power line out of the door opener mechanism. I stayed just above the car as he backed it out and flitted to a nearby tree once we were clear of the door.
When the remote didn't seem to work, Phillip stopped the car and leaned out to try again. The door still didn't move. He got out, walked to the doorway, aimed the remote directly at the mechanism, thumbing the button repeatedly at close range. Nothing happened. He swore as he went back to the car and drove it to the condo entrance, then went inside.
I settled on the roof of the enclosed walkway near the car to wait. It seemed that nobody in that group was fond of walking. They all got in the car to ride the hundred feet or so to the garage.
Someone else in the car was messing with a remote with the same negative results. As they neared the garage door, I reached in to slap Phillip hard on the side of the head. He collapsed sideways, unconscious, causing a bit of a commotion in the car.
The guy sitting beside Phillip had his gun out. I grabbed it, smacked him with it, then snapped it back into the car at one of the others who was reaching into his jacket. It must have hit his arm pretty hard by the look of shock on his face. He froze in mid-reach.
After steering the still-moving car to within a foot of the inside garage wall on the right, I pushed the shift lever to 'Park' and yanked the keys out, then tapped the heads of the two guys who were trying to get the doors open on the driver's side. That gave me time to shove the Harley up against the driver's side doors to pin them shut.
More guns appeared in the car. I kicked the gas cans over to the car, ripped the cap off one, and lifted it to the roof of the car. Laying it on its side to drain, I then ducked down out of sight and out of the way of the gasoline gushing over the car's roof and down the sides. I slung the other opened gas can into the car through the back door window.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" screamed someone inside the car, but of course, with me running to the garage doorway and giving them the finger, one of them just had to try to knock me over.
I heard the large-caliber boom and a bullet ripped through the wall near me a split-second before there was a loud 'WHOOMPH' like the one I'd heard at the club. A massive ball of fire and heat reached almost to the garage doorway.
There was some brief screaming from within the car as I leaped to haul the garage door down until it was about six inches from the ground. The door's drive chain snapped and fell into the inferno that was consuming the pimp wagon.
I settled in a nearby tree to wait, in case someone appeared to be escaping, but no such escapees emerged from the garage.
Not long after the plastic can on the car's roof exploded, there was another small explosion. Then the car gas tank blew. It was powerful enough to distend the metal walls of the garage outward and blow out the windows. A tire popped with a bang, then another.
The extra air from the broken windows fed the flames and the walls of the garage began to glow a dull red, then the garage door fell out of its burning frame. The tank on the motorcycle exploded and its front tire blew with another bang.
People were running into the parking area from their condos. I quietly retrieved my roped chains and drifted back toward my farmhouse to begin work on a means of protecting myself from "PMS times infinity", as April had called it.
Chapter Eleven
You've probably seen 'em on TV, shown cutting and grinding and scraping everything in sight. They're basically just cloth disks, permeated with coarse abrasives, that are used on drills.
'Two for just $7.95, plus shipping! Credit cards only, please! No COD's, etc...'
I began working as soon as I got back to the farm. My plan called for gold dust. After I hammered the gold chains so tightly into a piece of steel fence-pipe that they might as well have been a solid six-inch bar of gold in there, I placed the pipe in a big vise and put a plastic wastebasket full of water under the end of the low workbench to catch the grindings.
The wheel ate through the steel and gold with about equal ease, as advertised, but it still took almost an hour to grind away what seemed enough. After four inches or so, larger chunks of gold started falling out of the pipe when there was no longer enough tension to hold it together.
I put a speaker magnet in a newspaper baggie and lowered it into the wastebasket, then stirred up the water with a paint stirrer stick, swirling it until there didn't seem to be any more steel to pull out of the mixture and the magnet had a deep, fuzzy-looking coating of steel grindings all over it. I turned the baggie inside out and removed the magnet, then trashed the steel grindings.
To separate the finer grindings from chunky bits I poured the gold slurry through several thicknesses of plastic window-screening (appropriately from my erstwhile screen door) mounted inside a funnel and into an aluminum pan with a handle.
What remained on or in the screen was too big to use, so I dumped it back into the wastebasket, then carefully tipped the pan to drain off as much water as possible.
My project was nowhere near finished, but being that close to so much gold for so long was becoming painfully disabling. My breathing was labored and my joints were in agony by the time I'd finished draining the water, but I didn't feel I could spare time to stop the operation again.
I'd had to quit working every half hour or so because I couldn't concentrate and I'd been afraid that I'd have some kind of accident and spill the stuff on myself.
Staggering into the kitchen with the little sauce pan and putting it on a stove burner, I then turned the burner on low and sat at the kitchen table to open a box of .357-caliber rat-shot ammo.
I'd given delivery methods some thought. I needed something that would instantly create an unavoidable cloud of dust. The hideaway gun I'd taken from Black Ice's guard held six rounds and had a two-inch barrel.
On the way home, a trip to the sporting goods department of an open-all-night 'superstore' in Northeast Dallas had procured the rat-shot shells. Firing a load of gold dust would create a wide cloud directly in front of me pretty much instantly.
The gun wouldn't frighten Sara in the least. She might even laugh at it until it went off and enveloped her in gold dust. I figured six fast rounds would put enough dust on and around her to give me some kind of chance to escape and call for help.
Even if it didn't actually put her down and out, she'd be instantly weakened enough for me to get clear and would probably need help getting it out of her eyes and off her skin.
A small hole drilled in the plastic tips let me remove the tiny lead balls inside the shells. I folded and taped a piece of junk mail into a small funnel with a tiny opening and set the six cartridges back in their plastic holder upside-down.
When steam was no longer emanating from the pan of gold, I let it cool, then took it to the table. Holding the funnel with a pair of pliers, I spooned gold dust into each cartridge until it was full and placed tape over the ends of each cartridge to keep them from leaking.
After loading the gun with the gold-filled rat shells, a damp cloth picked up the gold residue from the table. I tossed it in the trash and decided that, just in case, I wanted the rest of the gold nearby and within reach, so I hid the sauce pan behind the big potted plant by the front door.
Exposure to the gold had made me tired and sick, and I hadn't even touched the rotten stuff. I sat in my easy chair and looked at the tape-tipped rounds that nestled in their cylinders, then wedged the gun into the chair between the arm and the seat and tried to rest.
The slamming of a car door jarred me awake. I leaned the chair forward and tried to get up and couldn't on the first try. My legs collapsed and I wound up sitting hard on my butt between the coffee table and the chair. It hurt. It hurt? It shouldn't have hurt.
I staggered weakly to my feet and wiped the sweat out of my eyes -- sweat? -- to see who was coming to the door. My vision was fuzzy. My headache -- a headache? -- was getting even worse, and I couldn't stop shaking.
I hadn't felt like this since my enhancement had resulted in an allergic reaction that had felt like pneumonia, jungle fever, dysentery, and broken bones rubbing together endwise, all at once.
Staring at the saucepan behind the plant, I hoped to whatever deities might exist that I wouldn't have to use the goddamned stuff on Sara as I shoved the other potted plant in front of it, too.
Sara wasn't at fault for her condition, but if she showed up in an extreme mood, I wasn't about to let her pound on me if I could help it.
"Hello?" came a voice from the front door.
It was Doris. I stumbled to the kitchen and yelled for her to come on in, again hoping she wouldn't notice the sauce pan behind the plant and get curious. I heard the door open and her footsteps on the hardwood floor.
"My God, Ed, what's happened to you?"
Doris rushed over to me for a closer look. I tried feebly to wave her off, but the motion almost unbalanced me in the chair.
She shoved me back to an upright position and soaked a dishtowel to place on my forehead. It seemed to simmer there without cooling me much.
"I just... don't feel too good, Doris," I said, tilting my head so the water wouldn't run into my ear.
I tilted too far. The dishtowel slipped off and landed on my right boot. I retrieved it with some effort and noticed bright flecks glistening on the towel.
Gold? On my boots? I looked down. On my pants, too, where they met the boots. I'd been asleep for -- how long? -- with gold dust all over my legs?
I hadn't been careful enough with the angle of the grinding when it started getting to me out there. I deliberately fumbled to drop the towel again, this time on my other boot.
When I'd retrieved the towel, I tossed it at the sink to get it away from me, but didn't feel any better. The stuff embedded in my pants was still affecting me.
I held my sweat-soaked shirt away from my skin and said, "I just need to clean up some, then maybe I'll feel better, okay? Have some coffee and I'll be back in a few minutes."
I started to get up and my legs failed me again. I honestly didn't know if I had strength enough to get my boots off.
Doris took a strong grip on my arm and hauled me to my feet when I tried again.
"Ed, you have a fever. We'll get you in bed and then I'll call April," she said.
I said, "No. No April. Nobody, please. Just let me get a shower and cool off, okay? Maybe I'll feel better if I can just cool off some."
Doris looked hard at me.
"I really think we should call April, Ed."
I shook my head -- a mistake -- and refused again. "The shower," I said. "That's all."
With reluctant cooperation, Doris walked me to the bathroom and turned on the shower as I sat on the commode trying to get my boots off. I wasn't having much success. Doris pulled them off me and stood me up to undo my pants.
I shook myself free of them one leg at a time as I leaned on her, then toed off my socks and let go of her to unbutton my shirt. She quickly reached to keep me from falling into the bathtub and sat me back on the commode, then finished unbuttoning my shirt and helped me out of it.
I was naked and felt not one damned bit better at all for having shed my gold-permeated clothes. I must have taken a helluva dose out there.
Doris went to the hall closet for towels and laid them on the sink, then began to take her own clothes off.
"You can't even stand up, Ed. We'll get you clean, put you to bed, and then we'll talk about why you have gold dust all over your pants."
"You noticed," I said rather inanely.
"Yeah, I noticed," she said, "When I pulled your boots off. How long has it been there?"
"Prob'ly since sometime last night," I mumbled.
"When last night?"
"Started about three a.m.," I said, "Stopped... I dunno, about five, I guess."
"It's almost noon now. You've been wearing that stuff for almost nine hours?"
"Guess so. That really sucks, doesn't it?"
"You be the judge. Are you feeling any better?"
"Not even a little. I got it bad, didn't I, Doris?"
"Yeah, you got it bad, Ed. Now let's get you in the shower and wash you down good."
"You don't have to get in with me, Doris. I can sit in the tub."
"Let's just get this done, Ed. Okay? No arguments?"
I shrugged, sort of, and leaned on her as we got in the shower.
"Jeez," said Doris, "It's like handling a big drunk."
"Xin Loi," I said as the spray hit my chest and face.
"Sin-what?" Doris busied herself soaping and scrubbing my legs.
There was a faint trail of shining stuff leading to the drain. She almost reached to touch it, then yanked her hand away with a shudder.
"Gold," she said, shaking her hand under the spray.
"Xin Loi," I said, "Means 'sorry 'bout that' in Viet. Means 'tough shit', too. Means things are as they are and at the moment I am as I am. You look pretty damn good, though."
"Save it," said Doris, "The mission at the moment is getting that stuff off you."
"Getting it off," I mumbled, "Yes, ma'am. Getting it off now, ma'am."
Doris giggled and slapped my butt. "Shut up, you idiot."
"Don't give a damn why you're here, Doris. Just damned glad you are."
"Thank you, sir. Now turn around and let me scrub your front."
I turned. Doris set to work from my thighs downward. I was beginning to feel a lot better as the noxious dust washed off me. There must be something highly therapeutic about the sight of firm, wet, glistening female flesh in motion, too.
My dick started to rise while she was working on my shins. It was almost all the way up when she finished my ankles.
"You missed a spot," I said.
Doris looked up and laughed.
"If it really needed washed it wouldn't be working so well," she said, reaching to wrap her hand around it and squeezing. "Nope. No gold on that. Guess it wouldn't hurt to wash it, though." She rubbed a bit of soap on it and fondled it for a while.
"I think I'm feeling better," I said, "What do you think?"
"I think I'll taste you, just to be sure." With that, Doris put the head of my dick in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, then took it out and said, "Tastes okay to me."
I looked down at her and pulled her to her feet. She looked at me questioningly until I kissed her and wrapped my arms around her. Her hand found me between us and stroked me softly.
"Thanks for dropping by, Doris. I'd still be in that chair... Hey, why did you come out?"
"Later. Right now I want that," she said, looking up into my eyes. "Inside me. Filling me up, right now. Are you feeling better enough to be able to manage that?"
"I'm feeling better enough to do most anything you want, milady."
"You sure? You're not just trying to be a good host?"
She giggled and I laughed. "Yeah," I said. "That's it. I'm just trying to be a good host."
Doris kissed me deeply, then turned around and leaned to place her hands on the wall. I placed myself properly and rubbed the head of it between her legs to slicken myself with her juices, then began the long, slow slide into her.
In the faint reflection from the tiles I saw her purse her lips and heard her let her breath out as I entered her. I didn't hurry. I let an inch or so slide into her with each little nudging.
"You're teasing me, Ed," Doris accused me.
She tried to push herself back against me, but I was ready for her and moved with her to keep her from shoving me deep.
"Yup. I'm teasing you," I agreed.
She looked back over her shoulder at me with a mock glare. I leaned carefully over her to kiss her without pushing myself in any farther.
She giggled and pushed back against me forcefully, as I expected. I shoved forward as she shoved herself back, which she wasn't expecting. Doris stiffened in shock as the remaining several inches of my dick drove completely into her in a quick impalement.
"Hoo..!" She gasped, "Ho, damn..! Don't move, Ed. Don't move an inch, please?"
I kissed her shoulder and waited. Doris kept up the pressure with her hips, making sure she didn't lose even the tiniest bit of me. I leaned into her, as well.
The end of my dick was pressing hard against something in there, and she liked it a lot. I kissed her other shoulder and waited some more. Small squeezings of me began inside her and seemed to grow stronger as the moments of total impalement passed.
Doris said, "Bump, Ed. Just little bumpings please? Tiny strokes for a little while?"
I leaned over and kissed the side of her neck and whispered, "Yeessss, ma'am."
A dozen or so tiny strokes later, the bumping inside her set her off. The ripples started in there, then the squeezings of my dick, and then she groaned as she came with a slight gushing of slick stuff that dribbled out around my shaft and ran down our legs.
I leaned forward, kissed her shoulder and her neck, and whispered, "That was nice, milady. May I have another of those, please, ma'am?"
I caressed her breasts and kissed and licked her shoulders as I whispered, "I really, really like those, and I really, really want another one."
After a moment Doris came again from my urgings and kissings and tiny shovings of my dick into her. I reveled inside as I felt her juices flowing over my balls again and reached around in front to put a hand on her bush. I found her little pleasure button and began to steer her toward another climax.
My lips were close to her ear as I softly asked her, "If you had more of those in there, would this be a good way to find them, do you think?"
I massaged her clit and the area around it with three fingers and interspersed the rubbings with a few more little strokes of my dick.
Doris bit her lower lip and moaned. She whispered, "Oh, yes, I think so, Ed. I really think so..."
"I know it's in there," I whispered. "I can feel it in there. I'm going to find it, Doris."
Her head tilted downward and her breath became ragged. She never once let up the pressure that was holding me deeply imbedded within her, even though her legs and arms began to tremble as she arched up on her toes.
"Don't be difficult, Doris," I whispered, "I've searched you like this before, and I've always found another one in there somewhere."
I fed a little burst of her previous orgasms into her, like a faint echo coming back to her.
"That was bait, Doris. I want the one that's hiding in there to come out and play."
I fed another little burst of sensation into her and was rewarded with a series of small graspings inside her that massaged the length of my dick.
Doris stiffened slightly, then her trembling increased a bit. She whispered, "I... I think... I think you may have found it... Ed..."
I felt the buildup of her next climax beginning and sent it a little more bait as I stroked into her in short pushes that shoved against that inner barrier.
Doris gasped and reached for that impending climax. She was almost there. Almost. It was one of those 'just on the edge' times when a nudge at the right moment would do the job.
I wanted her to have it and I wanted to take it into myself and suddenly I had to have it now. I realized that the 'now' urging was coming from within Doris and that I was responding to it as much as she was.
I pulled back until only the head of my dick was within her nether lips, then slammed myself back into her depths as I also slammed the sensations of her prior orgasms into her. The double jolt jarred it loose.
Doris let forth a long, drawn-out "Haaahhhaaaahhh!" and whisperingly screamed, "Fuck me hard, Ed! Fuck me fast! Now!"
I bucked into her in long, full strokes as quickly as possible.
Doris frantically shrieked, "Come with me! Come with me! Now!"
Doris felt the slight extra swelling and stiffening of my dick that precedes ejaculation and softly screamed, "Yes! Yes! Now-please-now! Yes!"
I felt the rushing pre-come sensations and fed them into her. I felt the jarring, electric jolt that sends the juice up the shaft of my dick and I fed that into her, too, and then, as I felt the solid, flooding rush and my come jetted up my shaft, I sent those sensations of mine into Doris as well.
She soaked them all into herself and bundled them with her own emotions and sensations and what came back to me was staggering. Doris came with a rush of emotion and sensation that so overwhelmed me that it literally made me stagger to remain on my feet.
There were the little and the large rushes of pleasure and the electrifying, sensation-laden shock of her mind and body realizing that my come had splashed against her inner walls.
There was the realization of the warm, wet rush of her own orgasm flowing out of her and all through us, and then there was the enormous, all-encompassing feeling of satiation and completion that Doris had always had when we had pulled a really big one out of her.
Doris sank to her knees, breathing hard and trembling all over, just as I was. She turned to face me, kissed me fully, then pantingly took my dick in her mouth, squeezing the length of me to be sure she got it all.
She licked her lips and said, "You remember this one well, Ed. Every little detail. Lock it into your mind, keep it fresh, and if you ever get a chance to touch Sara again, you send it into her. All of it. Don't even bother to ask first. Just do it. Hell, send it into her twice, if you can. Then she'll know what it is to be a woman."
I sank to my knees, too. The shower hit Doris's face and she opened her mouth to take a drink from the spray, trying to laugh at the same time. I kissed her well and fully and leaned back to admire her.
"Sara may regard that as a form of rape, you know."
"Oh, fuck her," said Doris, then, seeing the look on my face, she said, "No, no, I'm not being nasty. I mean she needs it. She needs to be fucked mindless a few times, Ed. Just like me, just now. She needs it in order to discover herself and learn how to deal with it."
"We'll leave that as an opinion, Doris. I happen to agree with you to a degree and others might also agree with you, but it isn't my call and it isn't theirs or yours. You and April have been the most magnificent lovers I've ever had the opportunity to please, and you know what it means to me to be able to please you, but it has always been your choice to take what I offer. Sara came to me specifically for what she got and she knows it. She didn't handle it well, but she can't legitimately call what happened anything but an experience. Whatever happens next will also come from within her."
"April is worried about you," said Doris, "Really worried. She says that you could be in real danger if Sara comes after you as the source of her problems."
"I don't truly believe that because I don't want to believe that," I said, "But I've been in that position before, so I don't dare trust my own judgment in the matter. That's why there's gold on my pants. I've been preparing for the worst."
Doris let the shower beat against her lower anatomy for a few moments, then got to her feet and stood looking down at me. She looked so delectable that I leaned forward and kissed her thighs. Smelling none of myself in her bush, I kissed her there, too.
"When I'm doing this I can't for the life of me remember why we split up."
Doris laughed, "I can't either. Of course, it's hard to remember my name when you do that, so how about doing it again, please?"
"By your command, miLady."
I took a long lick, then continued to lick and nibble a few small rollergasms out of her.
"Amazing," I said, "The supply seems endless."
Doris laughed again and said, "I love your positive attitude, Ed."
I kissed her thighs again, then stood to kiss her lips.
Doris kissed me back and grabbed my dick and when it stiffened in her grasp, she said, "Fill me again, Ed. Nice and slow this time, okay?"
It was a request, a command, a plea, and a privilege.
As I slid back into Doris I hugged her to me, kissed her back and shoulders, and whispered how wonderful it was to hold her, to touch her, and to be with and within her. I told her how I felt it was an honor and a privilege and how I felt so very rewarded when I brought forth her pleasures.
Doris heard my words and felt my feelings and began to come for me again in gentle rushes of sensation that were also great rewards for me, and I let her hear and understand my feelings and then she came again, in a great rush of sensations into which I added the memories of orgasms recently past.
Her pleasure peaked and flowed back into me and was about to trigger me to come with her again, but this time she was a little too overwhelmed by it all.
Doris passed out. I carefully lowered her to the floor of the tub, my dick still within her. She awoke somewhat and smiled a silly smile at me. I smiled back and gave a little nudge to seat my dick a bit deeper. Doris pillowed her head on her arm and smiled again and sighed her contentment with being filled again. I kissed her cheek and happily throbbed within her.
I was about to start moving again when a shadow fell on the bathroom window above us. Doris felt my startlement and came awake quickly. I pulled myself out of her and stood to look out the tiny window of the shower stall, but saw nothing outside.
I stepped out and dried a bit, then wrapped the towel around me to get my gun and have a look out some of the other windows. There was nobody there. I sensed nobody nearby. We seemed to be alone, after all.
Doris was out of the tub when I came back so I gathered my pants and shirt on the end of the plunger to put them in the tub with my boots, then wiped the bathroom floor with my damp towel and slid it between my feet all the way into the kitchen.
I set the gun on the table so I could use both hands to give the area a wipe, then fold the towel in on itself and toss it in the trash.
Doris dropped something in the bathroom that smashed when it hit the floor. I grabbed the paper towel roll and waved it at her and she nodded agreement as I headed toward her.
Maybe because of the illness and my sensory overloads in the shower I didn't notice the presence at the front of the house immediately. When I did notice it, it didn't seem to be one of those on my mental list of known presences.
I handed Doris the paper towels and went back into the living room to see who was out there and was shocked to see Sara standing on the porch, looking in through the glass at the top of the door.
Sara saw me, too. The door exploded inward, her arms having simply pushed through the screen door to shove the solid door out of the entranceway. The door rattled and slid to a stop almost at my feet, the battered doorknob leaving a long gouge in the wood floor in its wake.
Sara was completely naked and the presence she was broadcasting, while containing some remote form of her essence, definitely wasn't the same one I'd had on file in my head for the last few years. It was a presence with no beginning and no end. There seemed to be no borders to define its identity.
When I tried to probe more deeply, her stare began to change into a fiery glare. Her eyes traveled the length of me and stopped about midpoint on my body, then Sara's glare reverted to its former blank stare.
Her demeanor was so strange and unmoving and her stare so intense that an involuntary response to her attention began to manifest itself just below my waist.
Strange behavior not withstanding, she was naked and gorgeous and she was staring in open-mouthed fascination at my rising dick, licking her lips and fingering herself between her legs with her left hand. Her right hand rose slightly as if to reach for me.
Her total lack of propriety reminded me of the lobotomized woman I'd met in East Germany on one of the Dragonfly runs in the seventies. That woman, too, had a tendency to stare at things and rub herself any time the urge hit her.
She'd hold conversations or answer complex questions as she rubbed and stared. The person was still in there, just disassociated somehow. That sort of consciousness didn't seem to exist in Sara.
Sara started forward and walked right into the screen door as if she hadn't noticed it. She rather distractedly swept the new screen door off its hinges and out into the yard in an almost unconscious, discarding gesture and ambled toward me with her right hand again reaching as if for my dick.
Sara's eyes never left the object of her fascination as she approached me. Wetness was running down her legs and the heavy scent of wildflowers permeated the room and grew steadily stronger as she approached me.
She was only a couple of yards away and it seemed unlikely to me that I'd be able to get to my gun or that I'd even need it if all Sara wanted was more sex.
Her open-mouthed, stark stare of fascination and desire gave me the impression that I was in no danger, an addled bit of thinking that must have been the result of all the pheromones flooding the room.
Sara suddenly stopped as she sensed the presence of someone else in the room. I saw Doris trying to conceal herself behind the bathroom door without moving it. She was well and truly frightened and trying to make herself small enough not to be noticed.
Sara half-turned to face her, staring blankly, and stood absolutely still for a moment before letting out a horrendous scream that shattered windows in the living room and kitchen.
Doris paled as her guts churned with fear. I knew that kind of fear from artillery attacks and one too-goddamned-close napalm strike long ago. Doris would have no chance at all against Sara and she knew it.
Sara took a step toward Doris and raised her arms slightly as she screamed her challenge again.
I had to do something. I thought about trying to get to the table in the kitchen for my gun, but I knew Sara could take me down before I got three feet.
"Sara, honey," I said softly as I took a step backward, "Sara, baby. Come to me, Sara. Forget about her and come to me, honey. I'm here for you."
My tone was the kind you hear when someone's trying to lure a scared animal out from under a bed.
Sara seemed not to hear me for a moment, then her head slowly turned to face me and her feral glare lapsed back into benign vacancy as she seemed to completely forget about Doris. She reached toward me again. I encouraged her some more.
"Come on, honey. Come to me, Sara. I'm yours, baby. Here, I'll get down here on the floor for you, honey. Come on over here."
I kept chattering softly to Sara and hoped that Doris would have sense enough to stay absolutely still, no matter what happened. If Sara killed me, at least one of us might survive to tell April and the others.
I was on my knees before Sara, patting the floor next to me in invitation and deliberately placing myself so Sara's back was towards the bathroom door.
When she was close enough I carefully reached out a hand to touch her leg and ran my fingertips up Sara's thigh and through the wetness between them. As my fingers massaged her clitoris I fed her a tiny jolt of orgasmic memory to help her forget Doris.
Sara's eyes closed and her breath left her in a single long, shuddering exhalation. Good. I had her attention. I gave her another tiny burst and brought a handful of her wetness to my face to breath deeply of her scent.
Sara's pheromone-laced aroma bolted through me and made my dick stiffen back up instantly. Fear of death and dismemberment was supplanted with lust.
Trailing my fingertips over her luscious thighs, I fed her more tiny jolts and softly repeated, "Sara, honey, come on down here with me. Come on, now. Come on down here with me."
Sara motionlessly stared at me as I licked her juices off my fingers. She suddenly let out another feral scream, but this time it was one so laden with need and desire and absolute emptiness that it wrenched me painfully to hear it.
She was crying silently, unaware of her own tears dripping off her face and onto her breasts. I called to her again and reached to touch her with a sense of desperation that was growing to match hers. I could feel the urgencies within her, the driving need, that emptiness so vast it seemed to extend to infinity.
I leaned to kiss her thighs and plead with her again to join with me. I forgot completely how dangerous she might be in my need to fulfill her and somehow ease the agonies within her.
When I reached for her hand, Sara finally moved toward me so that my face was level with the tops of her thighs and took my hand in hers. I searched our contact for her consciousness and found nothing but the clamoring of the void within her. Bones in my hand snapped in her grip, but I felt little pain.
I heard myself whisper to her, "Yes, honey, come to me, Sara. Come down here with me. I need you, too, Sara. Come on down here and I'll help you."
Sara let herself fall to her knees, releasing my hand as she fell. There was no grace or a natural attempt to slow her drop. The whole house seemed to shake as her knees hit the floor, but Sara seemed not to notice.
I reached to touch her face and wipe her tears away with my injured right hand and felt nothing but the wetness of them on my fingers. I eased myself closer to her and took her gently into my arms. I lightly kissed her tears, then her swollen lips as my hands roamed her neck and back, then her breasts and belly.
As I kissed her more firmly, my left hand found the slick wetness between her thighs again and slid up to touch her equally swollen clit and mons.
At the contact of my fingers, she broke our kiss to again let forth that deafening, heart-rending cry of need, then shoved me back flat on the floor, pinning my shoulders there as she hurriedly mounted me.
Sara slid backward until the head of my dick made contact and was seated just inside her, then brutally shoved herself down onto my dick and began riding me hard, simply sliding herself up and down my shaft in quick, mindless, slamming strokes.
I had thought that the sense of need might lessen once she had me within her, but I was absolutely wrong. If anything, it seemed to deepen.
Tears streamed down her face again and she screamed short, higher-pitched, breathless versions of that horrible, needful scream again and again as she posted on me frantically.
A climax was building within her, but it felt somehow disassociated from her. I felt it burst into being and then disappear almost instantly. It was a startling feeling. It didn't dissolve away as orgasms usually do. It simply ceased to exist as soon as it had blossomed, as if something had snapped it up.
Another, and then another, then a sort of chain of them formed and just disappeared in the same manner as soon as they appeared.
Sara stopped posting on me and screamed her need again, her hands clenched into fists as she screamed her rage and frustration upward at the sky. The sound still echoed in the room as she began moving again.
I realized that if Sara couldn't somehow find more within herself or pull more from me, she would very likely mindlessly continue to ride me until I was a crushed mess beneath her.
I found presence of mind enough to glance at the bathroom door beyond Sara's wildly flexing legs. Doris had composed herself enough to signal me. At first it made no sense. Doris first held up her cell phone and mouthed a word. It finally dawned on my pheromone-scrambled brain that she was silently saying "April". I nodded slightly.
Then she made a gathering-together gesture, a sweeping motion of her arms that brought them together, and then with her hands clenched together, she thrust them forward and up quickly. For long moments more I was again mystified, then I understood her meaning.
Sara was here for satiation. Fulfillment. Satisfaction. An end to the screaming emptiness within her. She couldn't manage it on her own and the thing she'd become knew I could feed it.
I glanced back at Doris and nodded slightly. Maybe I could keep the Sara-beast busy and keep Doris and myself alive until April arrived with help.
I gathered the memories of Doris's recent spate of small rollergasms so as to ease Sara into what was about to happen to her. As I fed them slowly into Sara, something within her discovered them and seemed to snatch them up as fast as they formed, greedily searching for more. Sara's frantic posting on me slowed a bit and softened in intensity at the distraction.
I kept feeding reruns of those little orgasms into Sara until whatever was in there became impatient and began searching for larger fare.
The frenetic posting began again. Sara's blank stare centered on my face. I could feel her body orgasming time after time, but nothing of it showed in her blank eyes. It was as if she was simply some sort of vehicle for the presence within her.
When I realized the small ones weren't cutting it any more, I called up somewhat stronger ones and fed them into her, one by one, over and over, until her posting on me stopped altogether. She sat motionless, impaled on my dick, her head thrown back, her mouth open, her sightless eyes staring above her into space, and her magnificent body in the possession of something that craved only more. I gave it more.
Sara didn't move a hair as the thing inside her gobbled up piece after piece of the memories I cast before it and searched for more, more, more.
I felt as if I were trying to appease an elephant with a bag of peanuts, and I didn't expect that elephant to understand or accept matters well if I ran out before it was satiated.
I had to take a moment to think. Apparently a whole moment was too long for the thing in Sara. Her hands gripped my shoulders and yanked me up against her breasts, then her arms wrapped around me in an unbelievable grip as she sobbed her need for more.
She pressed her lips to mine so hard I could taste blood. "NEED!" came across to me.
I couldn't breathe, but I realized that I had felt an actual word from her. Or perhaps from the thing inside her? I heard the gristle between my ribs loudly giving way as Sara's grip intensified.
Doris saw what was happening to me and ran out, still naked, to distract Sara.
The beast in Sara almost leaped off me to attack Doris, but I wrapped my arms around her neck and hung on tightly.
That would have made no difference to Sara's strength, of course, but I also screamed, both aloud and into her mind, "Doris will HELP! She can HELP us!"
I fed a series of minor orgasms into Sara that were in a way I can't well explain attached to Doris.
"Doris will HELP us!" I yelled again.
The beast in Sara settled a bit but remained wary. I sent across strong mental images of Doris and me holding Sara and bolstered it with a few fairly strong reminiscences. Sara's beast quieted more and I cautiously reached for Doris's hand.
"Doris, you have to feed me your best. Give me full access. Lose your fear. You have to help me here, or we're probably not going to leave this room alive."
Doris nodded the way someone trapped in a tiger's cage might nod as a zookeeper issued questionable instructions to try to slip past the tiger to an exit.
I winced as her trembling hand found my damaged one and softly told her to please make the contact anywhere else but there. She quickly latched onto my wrist, instead.
Sara's beast was becoming impatient. A low growl emanated from Sara that could as easily have been that same tiger's threatening rumble.
I swept my left hand between Sara and me and wiped a fresh dose of her pheromone-laden juices across my face, then took a deep breath of it.
My dick restiffened within Sara instantly as the scent of her had its effect on me.
Doris stared a moment, then did likewise. I saw her eyes glass over momentarily from the power of it and her surprise as she regained her equilibrium. A charge of sexual energy and desire raced through Doris and into both me and Sara, who released a sigh as the jolt hit her core.
Fresh dampness flowed around my dick. I grabbed some more of Sara's pheromone-laden juice and swiped it onto both my face and Doris's, and the resulting bolts of lust that raced through us into Sara made the Sara-thing smile slightly.
"Put your other hand on Sara someplace, Doris. I'll start sending through us both immediately. I'm going to cycle it all from you to me to Sara and back through you and try to build it into enough to overfeed that thing in Sara. Hang on, Doris."
I was beginning to hurt. Sara's grip had relaxed a bit, but my hand, my shoulders, and my ribs were barking at me. I ignored them as best I could and began to tease up Doris's memories of our adventures in the shower. As they flowed back into me I added my own and fed bits of these into Sara.
Sara's beast had begun to hunger again and the posting had started again, but feeding her these bits quieted and distracted the thing long enough to let me cobble up some more.
I began creating variations from the parts and tossing them into Sara as if they were new pleasures, stalling and hoping April would arrive in the very, very near future. The Sara-beast rumbled again and wordlessly demanded more from me. From us. I wasn't sure there was more to share.
I was running out of variations. Truthfully, I prefer simple pleasures and probably don't have much imagination for such things. I reached inside myself and inside Doris and pieced together a sort of "greatest hits" album and sent cuts from it into Sara.
Doris gasped and I looked where she was looking. The scent of wildflowers became stiflingly thick in the room as Sara's reaction to the 'new' barrage flowed freely around my shaft.
Combinations of Sara's episode on the coffee table, Doris's best-ever orgasmic explosions, and everything I could think to toss in with them that could feed Sara's animal went sliding across our connection and slammed into Sara in a steady stream.
The Sara-beast sucked them up and demanded more, but it seemed to be slowing a little in its demandings from me. Its feedback of intense craving had diminished somewhat.
I was becoming thoroughly exhausted. Only the constant inundation of Sara's pheromones was keeping me erect for her. Doris was wearing down as fast as I was. In order to subject Sara to massive orgasmic memories, I was having to draw them from each of us and assemble them, then feed them back through both myself and Doris to maintain their impact.
Doris had nearly passed out a few times from the intensity of the emotional and sexual energy being transferred through her to Sara.
A shadow fell across us and suddenly April's arms wrapped around Sara's chest from behind. Sara's animal reared in rebellion, screamed challengingly, and tried valiantly to pull free of April's locked embrace.
April yelled, "I know what you're doing! I'm ready! Use me!"
I put my free hand on April's arms and the contact intensity was so immediate and ranged so deeply that it took my breath away, then something from deep within April rose up so quickly to fill our connection that it was all I could do to keep my grip on her arms.
It instantly flowed through me and through my connection with Sara. Imagine standing on a hilltop, looking outward. Imagine that -- without the slightest warning -- a fighter jet screams past you under full power, apparently only inches from your face.
April's transit of me seemed much like that to me. I was left staring in shock where she'd passed me.
Once again Sara blindly screamed, but it changed from being a scream of challenge to another of those all-encompassing, heartwrenchingly-needful screams.
From April came a scream that sounded the same, yet seemed to be the exact opposite, somehow. It was every bit as feral, but it was a scream laden with a vast desire to fulfill and complete and nurture. To help.
As the two entities met within Sara, I felt a flooding sensation and the wildflower scent became so strong in the room that my enthrallment seemed to become complete. My body was theirs, my mind was theirs, and all that I was existed only for those women in a moment beyond my ability to describe.
I barely noticed as Doris, staring in wonderment, was drawn to place her hands on both Sara and April, and suddenly her presence seemed to rush through me as well. The three women were all screaming from their very cores of being, but the quality of the screams had become nearly harmonic as Sara's beast was fed to nearly bursting with everything it had been seeking.
The blended screams continued for some moments, then fell silent. There suddenly seemed to be no more ravening, starving beast.
Sara's eyes unclouded and stared down into mine for a moment. A smile formed on her lips and she leaned to kiss me fully, then a voice not quite hers entered my mind and said, "Come with us, now, Ed. Join us. You're more than our connection. You are OURS. You're part of us now, right down to our blood and our bones and our very essence. You belong with us."
I recognized the voice. It was Sara's, it was April's, it was Doris's. They had bonded in some manner and were all calling to me at once.
A vision of lightwork that formed a sphere appeared before me and seemed to be my destination. Without hesitation, I leaped into the seething, glowing mass that was their joining and became a glimmering part of their very existences.
The spirit-like essences of each of the women glowed brightly, seemingly all indistinguishable from each other, yet each very distinguishable from the others.
I wondered what I must look like to them and was abruptly faced with their combined views of me. I was a vaguely different shade of the same brightly glowing ball of light, lacing through the mass as an integral part of it, just as they each were.
The April light somehow smiled at me and raced through me and suddenly I knew she had experienced the same from me as I dove through the Doris light and into the Sara light and the Sara light blended with us all and seemed to swell to fill the sky.
We came together as a sphere again. I have no idea how long we remained bonded together in that form, but the energy drain must have been phenomenal, because my next memory is of April kissing me softly.
Doris stirred next to me on the floor and Sara was asleep or unconscious across my chest, still impaled on me, so the bonding couldn't have taken as long as it had seemed.
April leaned to kiss Doris and Doris, to my extreme surprise, kissed her back lovingly.
Doris, the homophobe of the decade, kissed April?
The two women smiled at my surprise and suddenly that kiss seemed to make perfect sense.
I looked up at Sara's inert form. April tickled Sara's ear and Sara roused a bit. Something inside her realized my dick was still in her and squeezed it softly, making it buck and throb.
Sara smiled and kissed April, then kissed me, then kissed Doris, warmly and deeply and fully.
Sara gazed into my eyes and simply said, "Come for me, Ed," and kissed me again.
It might as well have been a command. I responded instantly, gushing into her. Sara sat upright on me and hummed a satisfied little sound as she seemingly absorbed me into herself.
I came so hard it nearly hurt, gushing repeatedly into her. Sara's smile broadened until it became almost fatuous and she kissed me again as before. She laughed softly and put a hand to my face.
"Do you like me better now?" she whispered.
April giggled and Doris laughed outright.
I pulled her down to me for a kiss and whispered back to her, "Oh, yes. Definitely. Much better."
Chapter Twelve - Four months later
I'm back at the farm now. The first farm, the one with the memories of Anne and friends like Brenda and Stephanie in nearby residence, although little fuzzy Stephanie visits me more often than Brenda because Brenda never developed Stephanie's fondness for freshly-caught fish.
Things have not returned to what they were before our bonding. Before, I merely knew when April, Doris, Sara, and certain others were within a general vicinity of up to several miles. The ladies and I have since discovered that we each share certain new talents.
Any of us can establish a subtle mental link with any or all of the rest of us with apparently no hindrances caused by distance or obstacles between us.
The contacts they can manage on their own seem best able to convey forms of raw emotion and imagery. This ability has proven very useful for instant identification and activity coordination in the field and that may even be one of the reasons for its existence.
Each woman can, however, establish a solid link with either or both of the other women through me and hold a true conversation without ever uttering a vocal word.
We've speculated that this is because I had the foundation talent and somehow shared it with the others, but I wonder about that sometimes.
Seems to me that everybody has that talent to a degree. That might mean that there's still a matter of gender involved that makes me a nexus or that the others simply haven't enough experience yet to develop this form of communication for themselves.
Distance between the women doesn't seem to matter as long as one of them is connected through me. Doris once contacted April and Sara while they were lending a hand on a planet named Tetra, so far away that one has to use a wormhole to get there. We discovered that there seems to be no time lag between one's thought and someone else's reception of it.
We're working on trying to figure out a way to eliminate me from the equation and still have the telepathy factor because there might be a time I'm unavailable. I'm an enhancee, which means I'm quite a bit more durable than a Terran, but far less durable than either April or Sara.
Force that would only stun April or Sara could destroy Doris or me, and the enemy we face periodically has that sort of force at hand. Literally at hand. They're beings almost as powerful as April and Sara, and they hardly ever attack individually.
Making love has changed, as well. Doris is no longer homophobic. She now takes great delight in evoking the deepest pleasures possible from April and Sara. What makes it even better is when we're all linked together in our bonding and those deep pleasures are called forth from us all at the same time.
My male climaxes are as they always were, far less explosive than those of probably any reasonably healthy woman, but when I'm part of our link, I share in the ladies' phenomenal pinnacles.
We're each also a bit stronger and faster than before the meld. I used to be able to lift with just seven tons or so. Now I can haul over three times that into the air and my speed has nearly tripled, too.
Doris still can't levitate herself, but her strength and durability have also more than tripled.
April and Sara have reported that their maximum speeds and strengths have increased by about a third. We have no idea yet why these physical improvements have occurred.
A young woman of incredible beauty has decided to open her own employment agency here in the Dallas/Ft.Worth area. Kim proved to be all I'd thought she was and more.
Doris had practically adopted Kim while her history and character had been checked out. Kim's mother and brother came to live in a condo arrangement that provides both privacy and security, partly due to the fact that many of those working in April's offices also live there.
April, Sara, Doris, and I went to Kim's housewarming party as a group, landing on the pool deck. Since it was an informal affair, Sara and April wore their uniforms. Doris had just come from the office and hadn't bothered to change, so she looked great, too.
I wore my usual jeans and a blue shirt. The only thing that made our clothing notable was the early snow that draped us until we shook it off.
As we entered the condo, Kim gave each of us a quick kiss of greeting in passing. The kiss she gave me lingered briefly. I embraced her and returned it, of course. When it ended, the ladies were watching us and grinning. Kim gave me a wry grin of her own.
"I've wanted to do that for some time," she said, then, indicating my companions, she asked, "But I really wouldn't have a chance against them, would I?"
"You never had a chance," I said, "But not for the reasons you may think, which I'm not going to tell you because you'll think I'm full of shit. Ask any of those ladies why I can't play with every woman I find to be absolutely lovely. And I do find you so, Kim. I just can't have you."
Kim gave me an odd look and returned to being a hostess. Around ten, most of the visitors had left, but a core group of stragglers were apparently trying hard to make sure that nothing from the buffet or bar was needlessly thrown away. Kim saw that people were surviving without her leadership and approached me. I was at the bar, looking for ice.
"You never opened that briefcase, did you?" asked Kim.
"Forgot all about it," I admitted, "It's still in the trunk of the car."
"Thought so. If you'd opened it, I'd have heard from you."
I gave her a questioning look.
"It's got money in it," she said, "Two banded stacks. Why can't you be the one to tell me?" she asked me as I made a drink.
"Tell you what?" I asked, just before it occurred to me what she meant. "Oh, you mean why I'm not allowed to play with you?"
"Yes, exactly that, damn it," she said, liquid courage evident in her voice, "I've decided that I want you. Why the hell can't I have you?"
"You really should get that information from one of them," I said, "It wouldn't sound right coming from me. I promise it wouldn't, and you wouldn't believe me."
Kim's eyes narrowed and she sipped her drink. "All right, Ed," she said too sweetly, "I'll go ask one of them right now. How's that?"
"Sounds good to me," I said, looking right into her disbelieving eyes.
Kim was startled. She'd thought I was bullshitting her about asking the others. She glanced around and spotted April by the bar with Sara. With a glance at me, she headed that direction with a march step of determination.
When she got there, there must have been some preliminary chatting. Nothing was said that seemed to evoke any reaction I might have expected. Then Kim leaned toward April and seemed to be whispering. April leaned over to whisper back. Kim straightened up and stared at her. April just looked back at her with a grin.
Kim's eyes found mine in a stare of incredulity. She looked back at April and I saw April nod solemnly. Sara giggled. Doris had been talking to someone else at the time and noticed the odd discussion.
She went over to them and seemed to be questioning, then her look changed to match April's. She nodded vigorously, laughed, and then left them to go back to talking to whomever about whatever.
Kim obviously thought they were putting her on; I could see that even across the room. April and Sara seemed to be vastly entertained at what was likely to happen next. The three ladies trooped over to me.
Doris came trotting up to join them as they approached me, again apparently asking what was going on. Sara told her. Doris grinned hugely.
Kim stopped in front of me, glanced at the ladies once, and said, "Come with me, please."
She led us to her bedroom and closed the door.
"Prove it," she said.
"Thanks, ladies," I said to the assembly in general. "You couldn't perhaps have explained things in a more clinical, tactful manner?"
"Oh, shut up, Ed," said Sara, "You love waving that thing at us. Now show it to her."
Doris and April laughed. Kim grinned as she said, "This is plenty clinical enough, Ed."
"You don't believe any of us, do you?" asked Doris.
"It's a bit much," said Kim, and looking back at me, "I want to see proof. Now, please."
"Okay, then," I said, "Stand back, everybody."
That caused another round of laughter. I dropped my pants for Kim. Her eyes grew large and her hands seemed to reach for me without her conscious volition. I stiffened in her grip, of course. Her eyes grew larger as it grew larger.
"Actually, the size isn't the problem," said Sara. "You could probably take most of it if you really set your mind to it. But enhancees gain a bit of our power. If he came in you it would kill you. That's why he can't play with unenhanced women."
"Mygod...! How..?" Kim looked at Sara. "I want... Can I be enhanced?"
The ladies all looked at each other for a moment.
April said, "Kim, we all like you a lot, but..." she paused a moment and Kim's face fell slightly as she anticipated a rejection. "But," continued April, "Well, you'll have to pick one of us." Kim's face showed her elation, then her confusion.
"Pick one for what?" asked Kim. "All right. I'll pick Doris, then, because we know each other best, but what am I picking her for?"
"Enhancement," said April, "But there's something you should know beforehand, and I think Doris may be the perfect choice for explaining it to you."
Doris rolled her eyes and said, "That figures. Kim, I had a problem with my own enhancement a few years ago." She looked up at April for a moment and continued, "There's something called a retro-virus that has to be transmitted from one of us to you."
"I know a little about enhancement," said Kim, "It doesn't always work the same for everyone, does it?"
"No, it doesn't," said Doris, "But that isn't... Kim, let me ask you something personal as hell. Are you strictly heterosexual?"
Kim blushed and said stiffly, "I think so. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Then we may have a problem like the one I had," said Doris, "I was, too. Very much so. The enhancement process really messed up my head for a while."
Kim looked around our circle nervously.
"But, what does that have to do with..?"
I said, "Look, I might be able to produce a dose of the virus, Kim, but I couldn't deliver it without killing the recipient. Are things starting to make sense now?"
Sara, in her usual blunt manner, said, "Oh, hell. Tell her like it is, people. Kim, you have to get it from one of us women. It's produced when we orgasm, so you have to eat pussy, bring her off, and get some of the results into your system. Can you do that?"
Kim backed up against the dresser and said, "You gotta be kidding! Is this for real?"
Doris stepped forward and said, "Tactful as ever, aren't you, Sara? Yes, it's true, Kim. It has to happen at least once. If you can't do it, it won't happen."
April waved to get Kim's attention and said, "It worked for Doris. You see this thing of Ed's and you've seen what Doris can do. That's how they became enhanced."
"But... but I..." Kim looked rather frantically around the circle.
"Wait a minute, everybody," said April. "Kim, calm down and just give it some thought. You don't have to become a hard-core lesbian, obviously. Ed's proof of that. You don't have to do it more than once, either, and nobody is pushing you to do it at all. And you don't have to decide here and now, so if you need some time, why don't we all go back out there and party? That's what we came here for, after all."
I tried to pack myself back in my pants and couldn't, which got a laugh all around. Sara volunteered immediately to help me with my problem, which got another laugh.
Kim laughingly suggested that she could go back out and steer what was left of the party if we wanted to stay and play in her bedroom to cure my condition.
Doris looked at her and said, "If we leave him alone for a little while, it'll go down on its own. If, on the other hand, we stay and play, we'd like you to stay and play with us, Kim. Parties this far along can take care of themselves. People just drift out the door when they feel like it."
Kim stood still, looking at us. April said, "Nobody would force you to do anything, Kim. It isn't our way. But you should know that we release some very strong pheromones that may draw you to try some things you might not ordinarily try, so be sure first."
Kim said, in a small voice, "Once... When I was in college... a girlfriend...I-I didn't go back, but I didn't... Uh, well, I didn't feel all that bad about it, either..."
"Would you like a kiss?" I asked her, "You know I've always wanted to really kiss you, Kim, and I can't say that I got enough of you at the door."
Kim stared nervously at me and nodded. I stepped forward and took her in my arms and kissed her gently, softly, then pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were closed and her mouth parted slightly as her lips swelled a bit and reddened. I kissed her again and let my hand fall to her thigh. She started, then wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back.
I let my hands roam a little, over her breasts and along her neck and jaw, then reached for the zipper of her dress. Kim started again, her eyes open now.
"This isn't fair," said Kim, "If you can't do anything with me."
Sara laughed. "You don't know Ed," she said. "He gets more out of touching and kissing than some people get out of fucking for a week."
Doris asked, "Did somebody push your crudeness button this evening, Sara? Jeez. But it's true enough, I guess. Ed soaks a woman up like a sponge."
"I like the way I said it better," said Sara. "Kim, will you kiss me, too?"
"I, uh... okay..." Kim turned to Sara and Sara took her in her arms. Their tentative kiss turned into a deep kiss. When they broke the kiss, Kim seemed short of breath and her eyes were shining brightly.
"I'd like one, too," said Doris.
Kim released Sara and drifted into Doris's arms. It was a soft, sweet kiss, firm but intent.
Doris smiled as she released Kim. April touched Kim's shoulder and looked at her inquiringly.
Kim gave her a little 'why not?' smile and stepped over to April, who took her in her arms and held her, gazing into her eyes silently for a moment before pulling Kim close and kissing her first very softly, then very soundly. Kim remained in April's arms after the kiss, reaching to touch and trace April's lips and face wonderingly with a finger.
I kicked off my shoes and let my pants fall to the floor, kicking them off as I unbuttoned my shirt. The ladies watched until I stood naked before them, jutting forward considerably in Kim's direction.
I asked, "May I invite all of you to join me?"
Doris was already unbuttoning her blouse. April and Sara just stepped out of their uniforms and stood splendidly naked almost instantly. Kim's stare turned into a steady gaze at us.
"Let me go throw some people out first," she said.
When Kim had left the room, Doris asked, "How do you think she'd handle being linked? Would that be too much too soon?"
Sara said, "Once she's had a taste of it, she won't want anything else."
"Hold off on linking," said April, "That's too personal. It's ours. Let's know her better before we bring her into a link. We need to feel that we need her first."
"Agreed," I said, "The link is ours alone, but the fact that we all suffered a bit to earn it doesn't necessarily mean she has to if we all feel she'll be good for it. Something else to consider is that we don't really know if we can add new members to the link. This would be the first time we've ever tried, if we all agree to try it."
There were nods and agreements around. Sara grabbed my dick and led me to the bed.
She said, "I was hoping Kim would pick me. I always thought she was gorgeous."
Doris laughed. "Once Kim gets into things and the pheromones hit her, all of us will have a taste of her. I think she'll love the whole experience."
"I think we should take it easy on her," I said, lying on the bed, "Let her feel her way up more familiar territories first, and like that."
I pointed at my dick and grinned at them.
"You would think that, Ed," said Doris, "But it really might be a good idea."
"I don't hear anyone out there," said Sara, fondling my shaft as April fondled her breasts, "What's keeping her? Ed, cast around and see if you can spot her."
I probed a bit and picked up a return from the room beyond the living room. "She's here," I said, "She's in the other bathroom. Give her a few minutes."
Kim finally returned. She was wrapped in a towel and her hair was wet. She came to stand by the bed.
"I needed a bath before something like this. It's been a long day."
"Next time just ask," I said. "I'm an excellent shower toy." Kim grinned at me.
"Oh, yes, he is that," said Doris, "You'll be very, very clean after a shower with Ed."
"Kim," I said, taking her hand and pulling her gently onto the bed with me, "I want to be the first to taste you, okay?"
Kim looked mildly startled and blushed. The ladies made a show of indignation, asking what made me think I should be first.
"Because I thought to ask her first, of course. I also want to be the first to please her. That doesn't preclude her pleasing one of you in the meantime, does it? Isn't anyone in charge, here? Ain't there no rules no more?"
Kim giggled and kissed me.
"I'd be pleased to have you please me, sir. How would you like to begin?"
"Like this," I said, pulling her gently over me to sit on my lap.
My dick was standing before her. I pulled her into a kiss with it standing between us, throbbing happily, then told her to do whatever she liked to it or with it.
"Remember what Sara said. You can probably take most of it if you put your mind to it, but you better be well lubed first."
Sara told her to rub her clit on it for a bit, unless she wanted additional assistance. I reminded Sara that I'd claimed first licks.
Sara said, "I didn't agree to anything. If it comes my way..." She shrugged and didn't finish the sentence.
Kim looked around the bed and said, "I can't believe you all want me. Three beautiful women and a man at the same time. It's so unreal."
Sara reached for her and pulled her into a kiss, then tilted her to Doris, on the other side of my legs. Doris kissed Kim, then leaned her back so that April could kiss her, as well. I took the moment to sit up and Kim fell on her back.
The ladies pounced on her, kissing, tickling, and caressing all of her they could reach. Kim's face was a combination of elation and surprise as they ganged up on her. When her nipples were standing like tiny castle turrets and goosebumps were appearing on her arms, I simply spread her legs and kissed and licked my way up her thighs until my nose bumped her bush.
She screeched softly, though she must have known I'd been heading that direction. I stroked her thighs with my fingertips and licked the absolute center of her bush. Kim jerked mightily and caught her breath in a hissing gasp.
Sara giggled, then laughed aloud.
"Watch out for his tongue," she said.
Doris laughed before returning to lavish attention to Kim's breasts and April used the distraction to kiss Kim again after winking at me.
I waited until their kiss was well underway, then dove back into Kim's damp bush to find her magic button. It was swollen as solid as a pebble as I took it between my lips and whipped my tongue back and forth on it.
Kim screamed again softly into April's kiss, spasmed a couple of times, groaned and sobbed softly, then began to come hard. I just love the element of surprise in these matters. It can really get things done.
When Kim had relaxed somewhat, still trembling from her series of small orgasms, I backed away to let the women play. Sara smiled at me and took my place between Kim's legs, licking and kissing Kim's legs and bush and belly as she caressed her.
April moved around the bed to kneel next to me and kissed me thoroughly, then rather unceremoniously shoved me back on the bed and mounted me.
She leaned forward to kiss me again once she'd taken my whole shaft into herself. I smelled the wildflowers and knew that a sensual feeding frenzy would occur among the women within moments.
Kim's face wasn't more than a few inches from April's thighs as April drove herself up and down my shaft. Her eyes followed April's movements with avid fascination and her tongue slipped out often to wet her lips as she watched my dick appear and disappear in April.
April was generating pheromones in greater quantities now as she experienced a series of little rollergasms that made her belly ripple and caused small grippings of my shaft within her. She was building herself up to a nice one and Kim's attention was absolutely rapt as she inhaled more and more of April's scent.
I reached to grasp Kim's thigh and sent what I was receiving from April into her. Her eyes flew open wide in an unfocused gaze and her mouth fell open.
I whispered intently, "Now, Kim! Now! April's about to come hard! Pull her over to you and take her!"
Kim's glassy eyes almost focused on me, but not quite. She did, however, hear my words. I reached to place a hand in Sara's bush and massaged her pleasure button. Sara licked avidly at Kim's bush as Kim pulled hard on April's leg.
April was on the edge of coming when she lifted off me with a soft popping noise as the head of my dick came free of her.
She swung her leg over Kim and quickly slid her damp pussy to Kim's lips. Kim gave a little cry and dove in like a starving woman as the overwhelming effect of April's pheromones reached her brain.
Doris and I smiled at each other and watched as April triggered into her orgasm and then convulsed with it. Kim sputtered briefly in the abrupt flow of orgasmic juice and made a rather valiant effort to capture it, then had to come up for air.
Sara's legs closed tightly around my fingers and she rubbed herself furiously against them for a moment before flooding and moaning as she found her own release.
I looked at the three momentarily satiated women and reached for Doris. She straddled me, mounted me, and then began a slow posting.
"They were in too much of a hurry," she said, "I love the feel of this thing inside me, and I'm in no hurry at all. Is that okay with you, Ed? Slow and easy?"
"Kiss me and I'll give it some thought," I said. After the kiss, I said, "Feels pretty good in there, ma'am. I don't reckon you have to speed up on my account."
Doris laughed and somehow her interior got a surprisingly solid grip on my dick for a moment. She slid all the way down my shaft and started what she called her 'bumpings'; short little bouncing strokes that nudged the head of my dick repeatedly against the very back wall of her insides.
After a moment, she gasped haltingly a few times, involuntarily convulsing slightly and leaning forward, and whispered, "Oh..! My..! I may... have to hurry... a little... after all, Ed."
She began posting hard on me and only managed about half a dozen strokes before I felt the tremors of her orgasm beginning deep within her.
There's something about that moment that reaches deep within me somehow. Doris looked into my eyes and leaned to kiss me and quietly said, "I think... I'm about... to come, Ed."
I whispered back, "I know you are, Doris. And I'm going to try to meet you there. Just get there and then kiss me hard. I'll bet I'm right there with you."
The other women on the bed were watching us now as Doris pounded her way to her climax. I felt the rushes beginning within her and gathered them into myself, then as her orgasm rolled through her, I gathered that into myself, as well, and used it to trigger my own.
April and Sara quickly laid their hands on me and told Kim to do the same. Kim placed her hands on my leg in minor confusion before she felt the sensations emanating from me.
I combined Doris's orgasm and mine to form what seemed to me to be a shining mass of sensations, then sent that mass into all the women at once. April, Sara, Kim, and Doris all convulsed with pleasure as I gushed my own orgasm deep within Doris.
Kim was starkly staring at me in confusion and ecstasy and perhaps even a little fear of what was happening to her as she spasmed and grunted and finally almost howled her way to her fulfillment in a long, loud, gasping moan of release.
She rested her head on my belly as she collapsed panting for breath. Her nose was only inches from Doris's bush, which was still impaled on my shaft, and Doris's pheromones were still flooding the area, which meant that Kim's nose was at ground zero.
I heard a rather aggressive-sounding groan coming from Kim as she levered herself up to look at Doris's surprised face. "Please let me have him," she said. It was a request, but it was a firm request.
It was more of a statement than a request. Doris acceded to her, lifting herself slowly off me. Kim greedily used her hands to squeeze as much of the pearly liquid out of me as she could and licked it away, then began licking my shaft.
It was startling, enough so that I felt another squirt coming up my shaft and moved to contain it. I placed my hand over the end of it to shield Kim from the spurt she'd caused. Kim saw it dribbling down my shaft and pounced on it, licking it completely away, then attacked my hand with her tongue for any remnants.
She firmly massaged my shaft to squeeze out any remaining and then licked that off, too. She made a little sound of despair when she couldn't find any more.
"This may be the sexiest thing I've ever seen," said Sara. "She loves the stuff."
Kim was frantically searching me for more, squeezing my shaft to see if there might be even a few more drops. Sara reached to touch her.
"There'll be more later," said Sara. "Relax, honey."
Kim made that small sound of despair again, then sat back with my dick still in her hands.
My dick was no longer hard enough to penetrate the other ladies, but it was plenty solid enough to enter Kim and I wasn't expecting any more squirts for the moment. I motioned to Kim to lean close and whispered for her to mount up.
Kim looked at the thing in her hands and back at my face. I thought she'd simply climb aboard as Doris had, but she instead turned around and buried her face in her arms, presenting herself to me.
I got to my knees and knelt behind her with my dick nudging her labia.
April gave me an odd look and Doris asked, "Are you sure?"
I nodded and began working myself into Kim. When she screeched softly I froze for a second to let her get used to it. When her head went back down I slid another couple of inches into her. She gasped again, but held her position.
"More," she said. I pushed my considerably-reduced dick into Kim the final few inches and held still for her. The situation was so unique that it had an effect I hadn't considered. My dick began to resume its former readiness and began enlarging inside Kim.
In the dresser mirror I could see the shock on her face as I swelled inside her. I kept myself firmly-placed against Kim at first, so as it slowly regained its full size, it was doing so completely within her.
Her breathing became labored and I thought about pulling back, but as I began to do so, she whisperingly screamed, "NO!"
I stopped and remained firmly embedded within her, swelling further and throbbing. That's when I felt the tiny rushes of a climax about to happen within her.
When I moved to stroke, Kim must have thought I was pulling myself out anyway. She reached under herself and grabbed my balls.
"I-said-NO!" she almost yelled. "Leave it in!"
I looked at April and Sara and Doris and muttered, "Well, yes, ma'am. Don't hurt me, okay?"
Kim giggled harshly and pushed back to re-seat me deep within her, then posted a little to nudge herself closer to climax.
Sara touched my shoulder and I looked at her. She tapped my head, then made a pushing motion. I nodded understanding. The ladies all touched Kim.
Gathering memories of sensations from the last major round of orgasms, I suddenly rushed them into Kim. She literally screamed as her interior gripped me like a velvet vise and she spasmed uncontrollably.
She continued the scream as her climax peaked, gripping the bed in white-knuckled hands and burying her face in the bedding.
April, Sara, and Doris all moaned empathically with Kim as she experienced what may have been the climax of her life to that date.
I captured her climax and added it to my collection, but the intensity of it and perhaps the total shock to Kim of its happening had an effect on me, too.
The tingling began in my heels and I knew I had to get my dick out of Kim immediately. Pulling myself out of her so quickly triggered it further.
I had to contain things somewhere, somehow. I couldn't just let the thing go off in mid-air with Kim in the room. Doris was still lying wide open, but Kim was in the way.
I grabbed the end of it to try to keep it from splattering so dangerously close to Kim and started to roll off the bed. Sara realized what was happening, grabbed my shaft near the middle and squeezed hard as she pulled me to her, then covered me with her mouth just in time as I gushed my climax.
Kim lay on her side in confusion, wondering what the hell had happened and why I'd pulled out of her. She'd been unable to distinguish the difference when I swelled slightly prior to coming and only knew that I'd yanked myself out of her and pushed her flat.
When I'd rather gratefully finished pulsing my load into Sara's mouth, she squeezed my shaft to make sure she had it all, then let me pop out and looked meaningfully at Kim with a big smile.
Kim joyfully went to her and licked a stray driblet of me off Sara's lips before kissing her soundly. I saw Kim swallow as Sara laid her on her back, and a moment later she swallowed again as Sara fed her the rest.
Kissing Kim twice lightly in parting, Sara rose to survey the results. Kim remained where she was, licking her lips and breathing hard.
Her breasts heaved enticingly enough that Doris captured one and suckled at the little castle of her nipple. April leaned forward to first lick Kim's lips and chin, then also kissed her soundly, her tongue visible briefly as it lashed between Kim's parted lips.
Doris was the first to speak.
"That was dangerously close, Ed. What happened?"
"Don't know," I said, "Something about Kim or the situation triggered me off. It was a full load, not a leftover squirt. It would have splattered everywhere."
Kim giggled and said, "You taste funny. And there's no bitterness."
Sara said, "That's because he had a vasectomy. No sperm. If he was shooting live rounds, I couldn't have shared his come with you."
"Whaaat?" Kim sat up and looked around. Doris nodded agreement.
April responded, "Enhancee sperm would bore microscopic holes all through your body, Kim. They'd go through you, through walls, through damn near everything at essentially the speed of bullets until they died a couple or a few days later. They'd search for human eggs, and instead of just fertilizing them, they'd blast through them and destroy them by trying to do what they're supposed to do."
"Oh." said Kim softly, "Well, still, I love that stuff. I'd have it for breakfast if I could."
Sara laughed. "I only say that about coffee."
April said, "After tonight it probably won't be a problem for you any more, Kim."
"You know," said Kim, "If we could get past the thing about dangerous sperm, we'd have a way to enhance a thoroughly heterosexual woman using a man's come.."
"I can't see any good reason to do it that way," said Sara, wiggling her tongue through a lecherous grin.
"Oh, Sara!" Doris exclaimed, slapping Sara's shoulder, "Damn!"
"Oh, poor, sensitive little honey," said Sara, still grinning. "Wanna lick me, sweetie?"
Doris rolled her eyes at the crudeness of it all and faked a swoon, forearm on forehead, falling back with a great sigh. Sara leaned over to take a lick in Doris's bush, making her startle and look up. Sara grinned and looked at her questioningly.
"Did that hurt, sweetie? Should I stop?"
"I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" asked Doris, grinning back at her.
Chapter Thirteen
Sitting in Doris's office with my coffee, I gazed at her legs as she worked on a folder that had to be finished before day's end. She knew I was eyeballing her legs. I always did. The trick was not to let anyone else in the office know that I was staring at her legs.
Today she wore a mid-thigh skirt that rode up a bit when she sat down and rode up even more when she crossed her legs. Her legs were crossed at the moment and she was showing a considerable amount of thigh.
I pretended to be contemplating deep and weighty matters and focusing on my coffee cup as we waited for a couple of the trainee gofers from the FBI office down the street to deliver a box of stuff she needed as evidence in a case.
Doris shifted her legs. I had to move my coffee cup slightly to the left to accommodate her new position.
Doris giggled and said, "Sorry."
"You'll break my concentration if you aren't more careful, lady."
"Oh, God forbid that," she snickered, "Don't you ever get tired of ogling me?"
"Nope. You were made for it. What time are we leaving?"
"As soon as those FBI brats drop off the stuff and I've signed for it."
Realize, please, that it wasn't that we had a problem with the FBI as a whole. Not at all. The older FBI people were mostly pretty good company. But the recent grads they employed mostly as OJT-gofers tended to remind me of brand-new lieutenants I'd met in the Army.
The lieutenants had been arrogant ignorance on the hoof, expecting the world to salute them because Congress had declared them officers and gentlemen after ninety days of training and had pinned bright shining brass bars on them.
The butterbar FBI brats were essentially the same way, except that they couldn't force us to salute them and they couldn't give us orders.
Connie leaned into the doorway and said, "If you can take your eyes off her legs for a few minutes, Ed, there's someone who wants to see you."
She then returned to her desk, tittering like a field mouse. I glanced dourly after her.
Doris laughed softly. "Maybe she noticed your tongue hanging out, sir."
"I'll work on my subtlety," I said, "Back in a bit."
Doris chuckled again as I left.
The woman standing by the front desk was reading the bulletin board, her back to me as I approached. Her signature of self was vaguely familiar in my mind, but I couldn't put a name to it until she heard me coming and turned around. Erin.
She wore Calvin Klein jeans and a casual blouse. Not precisely office wear; more like traveling clothes. Her shoes were those ubiquitous hard-plastic sandals with one inch heels and a wide leather arch strap.
The denim purse she clutched was almost half the size of the overnight bag at her feet. It was shaped like a large pouch with a drawstring top that would also serve as handles and shoulderstraps. Maybe it was the style of the moment, but if the bag had been O.D. green, I'd have thought it was an issue-style laundry bag.
We greeted each other at a distance and neither of us extended a hand toward the other. I didn't because she switched the purse to her right hand as she said, "Hello, Ed." I figured her contact-leeriness was probably due to what had happened in the lab cafeteria months ago.
"Hello, Erin," I said, stopping a few feet from her and sticking my hands in my back pockets to put her at ease. "Nice purse, there."
There was an awkward moment of silence between us until I asked her, "So what brings you to Dallas? Farley isn't here, too, is he?"
Erin's laughter was tense and terse and sounded sort of hollow. "No. No Farley. He's the original egocentric mad scientist. We worked together for almost two weeks and he'll probably never know how close he came to being killed. He..."
She realized she was chattering and clipped off her words. Another awkward moment passed.
I prompted her with, "And you're in Dallas because..?"
"Oh. Yes. It was Sara's suggestion. I'm... uhm, I'm..."
Erin seemed at a loss for words. I waited, slightly intrigued. She continued with, "I'd rather not talk about it right this minute."
I waited to see if she'd add anything. She didn't. After a moment more, I looked around. No FBI courier brats had arrived yet.
"Tell you what, Erin. Doris and I are kind of in the middle of something. Let me close it up and then I'll be all yours for a while, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay," she said in a neutral tone.
I picked up her big bag and led Erin back towards Doris's office.
"Doris, Erin. Erin, Doris. No brats yet?"
I noted that Erin had no difficulty with a brief handshake with Doris.
"Hello, Erin. No, Ed, not yet. I'm about to call and postpone things."
"They'll love that," I said. "You hungry, Erin? I'd be willing to treat us all to just about anything that isn't Mexican food or sushi."
Erin nodded. Doris said, "Sure. Gimme a minute to cancel the brats."
The word had come up too often for Erin.
She asked, "Who or what are the brats?"
Doris laughed.
"Full-fledged fledglings of the FBI. The youngest and most useless agents they have, fresh out of school and being used as inter-agency delivery people."
Erin flicked a polite, small smile to acknowledge the humor.
With a grin I said, "Erin works for them, too."
Doris's eyes narrowed at me as she said, "Oops. Sorry, Erin. You could have mentioned that sooner, Ed."
"No problem," said Erin. "You described them pretty well, actually."
Doris called to postpone the delivery, then stood up and took her jacket off the back of the door. I held it for her as she slipped into it.
"So, Erin," she asked, grabbing her purse, "What brings you to Big D?"
"A case," said Erin. "I'm here to interview a patient in Dallas Hospital. She was found two days ago and she's a missing person we've been looking for."
"Can you visit, or will you be heading straight back to the lab afterward?"
Doris herded us out and locked the office door.
"Uh, yeah, back to the lab eventually. I'm kind of taking the long way back, I guess."
"Ed," thought Doris to me, "She's on some kind of edge."
"Roger that," I thought back, "Suggestions?"
"Just this:"
"I have a suggestion," said Doris, touching Erin's arm lightly, "If you're going to be in Dallas a few days, why not stay with me? I have lots of room and a cat who could use the excitement."
I grinned and said, "Hey, lady! She came here asking for me, not you."
Erin said, "Actually, I do need to talk to Ed, but I'm not sure I'll be staying yet. But thank you anyway, Doris. If I stay, I'll take you up on that offer."
"No problem. How do you and Ed know each other?"
"Okay, pal," thought Doris to me, "We made her decide something, at least. Be careful."
"I'm already being careful, Doris. I don't want to spook her, either."
"We ran into each other at the lab," said Erin.
She didn't elaborate. Erin and I almost bumped shoulders entering the elevator. Erin practically cringed away to place a few more inches between us.
I looked at her and nodded slightly to tell her, 'Understood. I won't touch you.'
The near contact had jarred Erin's charade of calm visibly. Doris suggested that we leave Erin's bag at the building's front guardbooth while we went to dinner. She assured Erin that the booth was open and guarded twenty-four hours, like the building.
As we checked the bag with the guard, I opened a non-vocal conversation with Doris.
"Doris, Erin came here asking specifically for me, but she's scared of me."
"I wouldn't call what I'm seeing fear, Ed. Just some serious wariness. No point in speculating without data. Let's just see how it goes."
Doris wanted Italian food. Erin said she had no preferences, so Italian it was, at a nearby restaurant. Tabletalk amounted to little more than trivia and Erin volunteered almost nothing in the way of information that might have been useful to us.
After dinner, Doris excused herself, saying that she had to go feed her little furry dictator, Barrington.
I sat looking at Erin after Doris had left and decided that if she had a good reason for being in Dallas, a direct approach wouldn't deter her much.
"Erin, why are you here? No hedging, please. Tell me why you came to see me."
Erin looked at me for a moment and decided, I guess, to level with me.
"I need you to find out something for me. Or maybe I need you to help me discover it."
"Well, I'm not a private eye, but give me a hint. You want me to try to verify something about that patient for you?"
"Huh? Oh, no, she's for real." Erin sighed and said, "She's only eight years old, Ed. Look maybe this wasn't such a good idea. You'll probably think I'm nuts."
I sipped my wine and said, "Try me, Erin. You've come this far already."
She stopped in mid-reach for her purse and sat there looking at me, examining my face for...what? I didn't know, but I knew she needed some convincing.
"I've seen things you wouldn't believe," I told her, "And I have either the souvenirs or scars to show from most of them. Think about it, Erin. We two are amazing enough in this mundane world. I know what you are and you've had a sample of my little talent at the lab. Nothing much in the world is stranger than us and our blonde friends, so don't think you're talking to the wrong person, here. If I think you're nuts, I'll say so, and you can do whatthehellever you want to from there. So tell me."
A convenient moment of silence occurred as the waiter topped off our wine and asked if there were anything else we'd like. We shook our heads and thanked him and he left us.
I swirled my wine and looked into the glass thoughtfully for a moment.
"Erin, what exactly is it that you want me to do? I told you my talent can be limited as hell."
Erin looked hard at me, seemed to come to a decision, and softly said, "Bull...shit, Ed. You touched me for maybe a whole second and discovered something about me that only about half a dozen people on the whole damned planet are privy to. For a while I thought that was why you left the lab. It's happened before when someone couldn't get past my Aktion heritage."
She sighed, sipped her wine, and said, "But Sara said that wasn't so and I came here anyway because you can tell me what's in that little girl's head."
"Willing to brave anything for the cause, huh? Listen carefully, Erin. You may be assuming way too much here. That item about your heritage was on the very top of your mental stack when I touched you. What were you thinking about while we were meeting?"
Erin stared at me for a moment, then looked rather surprised for another moment.
"Uh, well," she said, "I was thinking... I was thinking something like 'I wonder if he'd be so nice to me if he knew what I am?' just before you touched me."
"Well? See? That's how it works. If you'd been thinking about big blue dogs or spiders, that's what I would have picked up instead."
Erin blushed slightly. "I see," she said, "Sorry, Ed. I didn't mean..." She sat up straight and asked, "Well, I don't know what I mean, so what do you think?"
I leaned back in my chair and sipped wine.
"Erin, I think that even if it turns out to be a waste of time, an effort will have been made. Given your aversion to my touching you, this has to be something rather important to you. If you were just another FBI type, I wouldn't trust you or your motives for asking me to look inside someone's head. But given that you're part of April's crowd, I think it unlikely that you're up to something really nefarious, so I'm in. Now you have another little problem, though. My car is at the farm."
Erin looked at me questioningly.
"That means I flew into town today," I said, "If you want to come to the farm with me, you're going to have to take a cab or let me carry you. That would mean touching you, and you haven't been too keen on being touched by me this afternoon."
Erin tried to mask her distress by doing something. She picked up her wine to take a sip, but her hand was shaking. She put the wine down fast and put her hands in her lap, looking at me like a trapped animal.
I reached a hand across the table and said, "We may as well get it out of the way or forget the whole thing, Erin. I'll probably have to touch you sooner or later to help you, anyway."
She was frozen. I let one hand rest on the table and picked up my wine, then took a sip. Erin stared at my hand as if it were a rattlesnake.
I linked to Doris and described the situation in quick detail. She suggested that I simply wait a few and have another wine or something. It wasn't as if there was a hurry, right? I agreed and signed off, then pulled my hand back and used it to catch the waiter's attention.
"We'd like some millefiori with the branch in the bottle, please" I told him.
He looked rather surprised that two such common people as we might even know of such things, but he'd been in Texas long enough to know better than to say anything like that aloud.
I casually touched his arm, picked up his name and his view of my request, and said, "Antonio, I understand that you feel that you're wasting your life serving ignorant, unwashed Texas peasants who have undeservedly come into money enough to afford your restaurant's inflated prices."
With a smile, I continued, "But we are not such people and you, sir, are a waiter at this point in your life, regardless of the fact that your cousin owns this restaurant. Now; in the cabinet under the credit card machine there are three bottles of very good millefiori. Not the export kind, but the better kind that is served for family and friends. Please bring us one of those bottles, unopened, so that we might also be counted among your friends."
Antonio must have thought I was a strega -- a witch. He hustled off and spoke to someone about twenty years his senior for a moment. The guy looked in our direction. I smiled and gave him a small wave.
He waved back distractedly and nodded, then looked toward the cabinet, then back at me once before instructing Antonio to retrieve a bottle and approached our table. I rose to shake hands with him as he arrived.
"I must ask how you knew of those bottles, sir."
"A guess," I said, "What truly decent Italian restaurant wouldn't have them?"
"But to have guessed precisely where we keep them? Surely that was not a guess."
"Well, no, it wasn't, but I'm not at liberty to mention who told me about them. I will say that he is a true Italian and that he has told me a number of things in strictest confidence."
The man was trying to wrap his mind around that when I pointed generally toward the building next to the one housing the FBI offices and said, "That building is like a second home to me."
The guy must have thought I was some sort of cop. He seemed to realize he had all the answers he was going to get and had begun to hurriedly excuse himself when Antonio returned. I put up a hand.
"Antonio," I said, "Pour for us all, yourself included. We will drink to your impending marriage to Maria and your success in life."
Antonio stared at me in shock. His boss stared first at me and then at Antonio for only a moment before he took two clean glasses from another table and set them in front of Antonio. The guy was going to tough it out and play along to see where things led.
He said, "Well? Pour, Antonio. We're drinking to you, after all. Does your mother know?"
"No," I said, "She doesn't. But Maria is a shining star among women, right, Antonio?"
Antonio nodded slowly, still staring at me. It was more than obvious that he'd rather have been waiting any other table in the world at that moment.
I picked up a glass and handed it to Erin, then handed a glass to each of the men and raised my own glass.
"Then here's to Antonio and Maria," I said. "Live long and prosper."
Erin grinned and almost snorted as she was sipping her millefiori, waving off their concerns by marveling at the strength and fragrance of the liqueur.
Apparently the two men didn't catch the quoted reference. They accepted the toast solemnly, which in turn served to make the toast a solemn one, however lightly I'd meant it, and tossed back their drinks.
We then toasted Antonio's future children. The owner then poured and offered a toast to Erin and myself and our children. Erin almost choked on that one.
I then suggested that the bottle be retired for the evening lest we all become too tipsy to function. The owner agreed and Antonio took the bottle back to the cabinet after Erin had examined the crystallized branch within it and heard Antonio's explanation of it.
When I'd paid the check, the millefiori wasn't on it. A few drinks, said the owner, especially those used in toasting his family, could be written away, as he put it. Nonetheless, I tipped well.
Erin was laughing softly as we ambled down the sidewalk together after leaving the restaurant.
"He was absolutely mystified," said Erin, "And you were picking on poor Antonio."
"They thought I was either Mafia or FBI," I said, "It didn't matter which. I knew too much and might have been someone special dining incognito. A gesture was called for."
We walked and talked for some time before Erin said, "I just can't see any other way. The girl's comatose."
"Comatose. Wonderful. Well, hell, at least I won't have to chase her down, right? Anything else I might like to know before I meet her?"
Erin gave me a sharp glance and said, "Someone grabbed her at an amusement park about a week ago. A man was seen putting her in a dumpster two nights ago and the witness called the cops. She's the only one of five that we know of who has been found alive."
She paused a moment, then said, "She's only eight years old, Ed. Only eight years old..."
Erin's voice broke a bit with the last words.
I softened my tone. "Yeah. You mentioned that before. Anything else I need to know?"
She shook her head. "I didn't think... her age would make any difference. Just another case, you know? At the time, I didn't think... But it does... She's already been through all kinds of hell, Ed. Now I'm not so sure I can let you do this after all. Maybe if I knew more about how it works..? I just don't know now."
I stopped walking. Erin realized it a step or two later and turned to face me.
I said, "You won't know until you've experience it more and get beyond your fear of it. You're as worried about exposing yourself to me as you are about exposing the kid. What the hell do you think I'm going to do? Suck out your brain and sell the story to the tabloids? Get real, lady. I may be some kind of last ditch in your view, but you believed there was a chance I could help or you wouldn't be here at all. It's just your fear that's holding you back."
"My fear? What the hell do I have to be afraid of from you, Ed? You should be afraid of me, for god's sake. I've found out a lot of things about you since the last time we met. I know why you can't go back to Central Africa. Why you can't go back to a number of places without winding up in a prison cell. Not to mention the drunk. There's no statute of limitations on murder, you know. That's the kind of stuff I know about you, Ed."
"Big fucking deal, Erin. Next week the same places could have new regimes who would pin a medal on me for helping out way back when. Who gives a shit how they feel about me? Central Africa's a cesspool of war and it's a little outside FBI jurisdiction. And you'd need some kind of evidence to do anything about the drunk. Threaten me with something meaningful, lady. Today's problem is the kid in a coma, right?"
Erin stared hard at me for a moment, then softly said, "Right. The kid in a coma. How can I turn someone like you loose in her head?"
I looked at her for a moment and sighed.
"Just so you know, Erin, I don't have an 'on' button. It happens if it happens, and it doesn't happen with everyone. As far as what it might take to reassure you, personally... that I can't say. I will say that I don't want to wind up in an FBI lab with a pack of overpaid nerds trying to figure out how I work or how to use me as an interrogation tool. Or how to duplicate the talent in others who might be of a 'forget-the-Constitution' persuasion, so if we do it, it's off all the records."
"I wouldn't let that happen," said Erin, "This is totally unofficial, Ed. The bureau doesn't know I'm doing it and probably wouldn't like it if they knew, but there aren't any other decent leads and we have four other victims -- all children -- so I came to you. We have to shut this guy down."
She sighed and said, "Sara said... Look, you're part of everything else I'm involved with, too, in one way or another, and we have some of the same friends, which reminds me of something else..."
Erin cleared her throat nervously.
"Sara used to just about hate you, Ed, but now she comes to Dallas about once a week. And when Farley said something about you walking out on the tests, she told him to forget them. When he persisted, she flatly told him to shut up."
"Poor Farley," I laughed, "He's always thought he was indispensable personnel."
Erin laughed, too, although tersely.
"Sara's opinions of you changed while she was here, Ed. One day she had nothing nice to say about you and the next day you were best buddies. Something changed overnight, and I was kind of afraid you somehow manipulated her mind."
"Did you ask Sara why her opinions of me changed?"
"Once or twice. She changed the subject. I didn't find that too reassuring."
"Hence your reluctance."
I guided us to some park benches.
"Hence my reluctance," she affirmed.
"I can fix that without touching you," I said. Erin had a look of alarm. I added, "I mean Sara or April or both could be here in short order to explain things if you want, that's all. It's kind of personal and I'd rather that they be the ones to tell you. Then we can head over to the hospital and see the kid."
Erin considered matters for a moment, then handed me her cell phone. I handed it back to her.
"Just gimme a minute," I said.
I linked to Sara, April, and Doris and outlined the situation. Sara and April said they'd be right there. Doris was with some friends at the Irish pub at a semi-official gathering and said that if April and Sara couldn't handle it, she probably couldn't, either, and so declined to be picked up on the way.
After signoff, I said to Erin, "Okay."
Erin tried to hand me her cell phone again, thinking I was finally ready to make the call.
I smiled and said, "Don't need it. Just sit tight."
In almost no time the two tall blondes settled to Earth in front of us. Sara flicked her eyebrows at Erin as Erin stood up and stared at them. As April and Sara stepped forward, Erin turned to stare at me.
"You called them somehow...?"
"Yupper. Sure did. Told them the problem, too."
April said, "Ed isn't controlling us or anything like that, Erin. Something happened some months ago. I won't go into detail about that, but I'll tell you that it bonded us together in a new and wonderful way. You don't have to be afraid of him."
Sara agreed and added, "And if you want, we can be part of whatever happens, I think. What about that, Ed? Can you include us, or do we only get to watch?"
I said, "It might be more effective as a group. All of us would see whatever I find in there, if anything. We could share observations and opinions."
"I have to ask..." said Erin, "How would you even know if he was controlling you?"
"Give it thought, Erin," said April, "Why would he bother? Has anything changed about how things are done at the lab or my offices? What would he gain that he didn't already have? Us? We already had him. Wealth? Power? You'd have to know him better, but I guarantee those aren't real big issues with Ed."
Sara grinned at me and whispered, "Just look at his car sometime, Erin. That'll convince you. Hey, April, don't tell her about his plan to use us to rule the world, okay?"
April rolled her eyes and said, "You're not helping, you bimbo."
"Yeah, well," said Sara, "Let's just get this show on the road. Erin can trust him and us or she'll have to keep looking for bits and pieces on her own. We can't help unless he can. Back to you, Erin."
Chapter Fourteen
I could feel Erin quail at the prospect, but she extended her hand to me. I extended my other hand for April and Sara and they saw what I saw. Nothing.
"Erin," I said, "Everybody here just saw what I saw as we touched. Not a damned thing. You're so scared of it and me that you blanked your mind."
"Or blocked it," said Sara.
April looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Blocked," Sara repeated. "B-l-o-c-k..."
April said, "We all know how to spell the word, smartass."
"Okay," said Sara, grinning, "Don't get all fuzzed up. Who knows? Maybe you're right. There may be a lot of blank zones in there. She is FBI, after all. By the book, and all that."
Erin's eyes narrowed.
"Oh, don't even start with me," she said. "I've heard a ton of blonde jokes, SuperBarbie, and I remember every single one of them. Shall I demonstrate?"
"Well, no," said Sara, fingering her hair, "I think that won't be necessary."
Turning to me, April asked, "What now?"
I said, "We can go get comfortable at the farm and try again or go to Dallas Hospital and see if there's anything to work with in the kid's head."
"The farm," said April. "We aren't ready for trying to contact the girl yet."
"Right. She's all yours, Ed," thought Sara. "See what you can do about loosening her up and call us when you're ready."
April chimed in. "She's just afraid, Sara. We may have to bypass her altogether. Ed, like she said, see what you can do with her and call us with your next move, okay?"
"Will do, miLadies. If I can't reach Erin we'll jump to the kid and have a look."
"Good enough," said April.
Sara said, "Say when. See you then."
April and Sara then lifted quickly and were gone without another vocal word. Erin was naturally startled by their sudden, silent departure.
She looked at me for a moment, stood straight, and walked up to me with only a slightly betrayed expression on her face.
"Looks as if you're my ride, doesn't it? And that was deliberate, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was. You could still take a cab out to the farm, though."
Erin slung her purse on her shoulder and sighed, "Aw, hell. Let's just do it and get it over with."
Cradling Erin in my arms, I lifted towards the hospital. About halfway there I was startled when Erin sat up in my arms a bit and kissed my cheek. I turned to ask what prompted the kiss and she hushed me by kissing me again, this time on my lips.
I stopped us above a building and kissed her back. The unexpectedness of her kiss had been stimulating, of course, and that became very noticeable almost instantly. Erin laughed softly.
"Glad to see I still have what it takes," she said, wiggling her hip against me. "That was my daughter's thank-you note. Her name is Julie. I told her about the crash once and she wondered why I'd never looked you up to thank you. I told her how you disappeared for quite a while. She said if I ever ran into you... Well, I finally ran into you."
"That was quite a note," I said, "I don't suppose she had any other messages for me?"
"No, just some suggestions for me if I ever happened to find you," said Erin.
"You seem to be having a little less trouble with your aversion about making contact with me. What happened to change your feelings about it?"
Erin laughed and waved her free hand from her face to her knees. "Look at me! I've been in almost full-body contact with you for several minutes! How much worse could it get? If you were going to do anything insidious, you could have done it already."
"Ah. Very observant of you."
Erin gave me a wry grin.
"Sara and April still seemed fairly normal after linking with you, too. That helped."
"What about my tarnished past? I'm the same me you didn't respond well to in the lab because you knew some of my personal history."
"Research," said Erin, "There's quite a lot about you in the computer, once you know how and where to look for it. Sara showed me how to look for it. Let's go to Dallas Hospital. The farm can wait."
I relayed the change of plans to April and Sara. Erin used her cell phone to call someone and was told that we'd be met on the roof.
When we landed on the hospital roof, April and Sara were in conversation with two of the doctors, a man and a woman, involved in the girl's treatment.
The man's excitement made him babble a bit and his eyes were all over April and Sara. If the guy'd had a tail, it would have been wagging frantically.
The woman was excited about meeting them, too, but she had the presence of mind to call downstairs for a pair of lab coats.
"Awww... She thinks our uniforms are too distracting," said Sara.
"She's absolutely right," said the male doctor, grinning hugely.
"These are doctors Firth and Hemming," said Erin, indicating her, then him.
"Call me Susan," said the woman.
"I'm Dan," said the man. "We've been told why you're here," he said to me. "Erin says it involves no more than touching the patient. Is that right?"
"That's all," I said. "Nothing else."
"It seems a little more believable with these two standing next to you," he said, indicating April and Sara, "But..."
He shrugged with obvious skepticism, but his handshake was tentative and quick. So was Susan's.
I said, "I normally receive nothing from anyone without initiating an attempt, and I don't make the attempt without good reason or without asking first."
"I see," said Susan.
They just looked at me for a moment before finding the first possible reason to switch their attentions to someone else. Typical reactions.
A female intern arrived and the ladies put the lab coats on as we went downstairs.
"I don't suppose you two would consider making an appearance on Saturday?" Susan asked, "And maybe tour the childrens' wing with me?"
Sara asked with a grin, "Is that the going price for lab coats these days?"
"Sure, we can," said April, "As long as we don't have to wear clown suits."
"No clown suits. We already have a couple of part-time clowns here," said Susan, thumbing in the direction of Dan, "This guy's one of them."
He grabbed his chest as if she'd stabbed him with her words and made a face of agony, then pulled a red rubber ball out of his pocket and tossed it to her. She pinched it open and stuck it on her nose.
"I'm the other one," she said, flicking her eyebrows at us. "We're the Saturday morning kiddie show."
Maybe you've seen on TV or in a movie something like the scene that greeted us when we arrived in the girl's room. Tubes and wires and all that, somehow all connected to the little girl in the bed. We all had to take a moment to get past the sight of her.
"She was raped and tortured," said Dan, "I guess you don't need all the details?"
Staring at the kid, I said, "No details."
Truthfully, I suddenly didn't want to go in there at all. There didn't seem to be an inch of her skin that wasn't bruised or damaged. As the ladies each put a hand on my back, I hesitated as I looked for a place to touch the girl that wouldn't hurt her.
Susan saw my indecision and whispered, "It probably won't matter, Ed. I'd be very surprised if Trudy feels anything much right now."
I cleared my throat. "Trudy, huh?" I looked at Susan and said, "But you don't know that for sure, do you? Nobody can say that for sure. Just see if you can find me a clean spot, okay?"
My brusque tone didn't go unnoticed. Erin put her hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at her and saw that her face was a mask of my own feelings. She moved tremblingly to embrace me for a moment while Susan carefully turned the kid's arm over. There were a few inches of unbruised skin on her forearm.
I turned to Sara and said, "I'd like you to try to observe from out here if you can. We may need an anchor of some sort."
Sara nodded, for once not making a crack or a comment. I looked to see that everyone was ready. They nodded and replaced their hands on my back and shoulders. I placed two fingers on the kid's arm and looked for a way into her mind.
Blackness. No stars, no sky, no up or down. There seemed to be absolutely nothing but blackness ahead of me and around me.
I could feel the presences of the women touching my back. The blackness seemed total in all directions. I cast around to see if I could feel anyone else's presence at a distance, but all I could feel were the strong presences of the ladies shining behind me.
The darkness absorbed their brilliances and allowed nothing to escape. After some moments of searching and calling Trudy's name, I backed out of the contact.
There was nothing to say. We'd all seen the same thing...nothing at all except the blackness. I turned to the doctors and asked if the girl was considered brain dead at this point.
"We can't say that," said Dan, "Now and then there are minor peaks on our screens that don't ordinarily appear with a comatose or brain dead patient. We really just don't know for sure."
"Maybe she's hiding," said Sara. We looked at her and she said, "Maybe you're seeing what she wants seen." Then she gave me a little 'but what would I know about that?' sort of shrug.
I nodded and looked at the others briefly, then back to the girl. "Suggestions, anybody?"
Nobody spoke up with anything at first, then Erin said, "Go in alone once. Quietly."
"Quietly?"
"I can't explain it. Sneak in. Does that make any sense? Can you do that?"
"As if looking for something, but trying to seem as if you aren't?"
"Uh, yeah, I suppose so."
"I'm familiar with that concept," I said, "I guess I could try it."
I went back into Trudy again, alone this time. The blackness swirled around me like a tangible fog for a moment at my appearance, then quieted. It hadn't done that before. It occurred to me that going in before with the equivalent of searchlights hadn't accomplished much, so I gave some thought to how to mask my presence.
My body seemed to have a glow about it. That would be the first thing to work on. I tried to dampen the glow and found that just thinking about doing it did it. I could no longer see myself at all.
"What the hell are you doing in there?" came Sara's voice in my head.
I looked around and saw nothing to indicate her presence, so I answered her with, "Are you in here or out there?"
"Out here. Ed, whatever just happened made you seem to shimmer and disappear from in front of us. What are you doing?"
"I tried to match the darkness. You must have gotten a taste of it."
"Helluva trick, Ed. It seriously startled everybody out here. Anything yet?"
"No. Let me get back to work, okay?"
"Well, bite my head off, whydoncha? Okay. Over and out and all that."
'Jesus,' I thought to myself, 'There are going to be three clowns there on Saturday.'
"I heard that," said Sara.
"So did I," said April, "I think he's right. Sara, let him get to work."
"Yes, MOTHER."
I seemed to be alone again. There was nothing else to do, so I walked around, hoping there was nothing to stumble over in the blackness, then it occurred to me that there really shouldn't be anything to walk on in the first place.
Inside anyone else's head, there wouldn't be anything to walk on unless someone wanted there to be. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, the floor disappeared. Ah-hah...
"Trudy? Are you okay?"
"Go AWAY!" The words blasted at me from all sides. "Leave me ALONE!"
"I can't, Trudy," I said, "I came here to find you."
"I don't wanna be found! Go AWAY!" The words exploded around me again.
"I just need to talk to you, Trudy..."
"That's what HE said, too! GO AWAY! GO AWAY! GO AWAY!"
'Getting nowhere,' I thought to myself. At least I thought I thought it to myself... Hard to be sure...
"Will you talk to my friends, Trudy? April and Sara?"
"NO! GO AWAY!"
I hung there in the blackness for a moment, thinking.
"Ladies," I said, "I've found her. Here's a synopsis."
I sent them a copy of my conversation with Trudy, then asked, "What now? A man did this to her and I can understand her reluctance to talk to me."
"Stand by," said Sara, "April's talking to Susan. The screen spiked about a dozen times just now. The docs are in a real tizzy about it."
I felt a new presence join me as a pair of hands plastered themselves flat on my back.
"Hello? Ed? Can you hear me? Hello?"
It was Susan, bellowing in my mind.
"I'm not deaf, Susan. Speak normally. Uh... think normally. Whatever. Just don't yell, okay?"
"Oh, Jesus! I can actually hear your voice in my head! What's happening to me?"
She was terrified. I could feel her invisible hands shaking hard against my back.
"Nothing's happening to you, Susan. We're just talking. What do you want?"
"Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Okay! Okay! I can do this! Ed, how, uh... How do I get in there?"
"You're yelling again, ma'am. I don't know if you can get in here. Try it and see."
There was a blank moment between us, then she asked, "How the hell do I do that?"
"You can or you can't, I guess. Just think about being with me in here. Try that."
"What, you mean just imagine, uhm, standing next to you or something?"
"Yeah. Something like that. Sorry. I don't know exactly. Just envision being with me."
Moments passed.
"It isn't working!" she wailed in my head.
"I have an idea," said April, "I'll try to carry her in, how's that?"
"Whatever, ladies. Figure something out."
I felt a hand wrap around my arm in the outside world and my thought was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of April in her uniform. In her arms was a girl about eight or nine.
The kid was wearing an adult-sized doctor's smock and had oversized eyeglasses and a red rubber ball on her nose. Both of them were glowing slightly, as I had when I'd entered Trudy's mind.
They looked around, searching for me, as April let the Susan-girl slide out of her arms to hang next to her in the empty blackness.
"You're supposed to be in here somewhere, Ed," said April, "So where are you?"
"Trudy wouldn't talk to me when she could see me. Don't worry about it. I see you."
"Where is she?"
"As far as I can tell, her voice comes from just about everywhere at once in here."
"Trudy!" called April, "Will you talk to me?"
Silence answered her.
"I'll have a look around," she said, and started to fly into the darkness.
My hand on her arm stopped her. She looked for the arm and managed to touch it with her other hand, but couldn't see me at all.
"Won't help," I said, "You're on her turf in here and I think even you could get lost. You might not be able to find us again, April."
"If the link is broken, I'll just wind up back out there, right?"
"Will you? I don't know that, April. You don't know it, either. Just stay put for now, okay?"
April startled slightly when my unseen hand took hers, but she didn't move. I tried to extend my camouflage to her and partially succeeded by blackening her hand and arm.
She caught on fairly quickly and dampened herself to nothingness almost instantly. That left only Susan visible, and Susan found that rather upsetting.
"Wait! Where are you?" she almost screamed into the darkness, "How do I get back? Oh, my God! How do I get out of heeerree!?"
Without our bolstering link, Susan's form started to waver and that scared her even more. April and I watched silently from the darkness as Susan struggled to get a handle on her terror.
I was prepared to grab Susan and evacuate all of us from that place instantly if necessary, but I'd already decided that if I had to do that, my next trips inside Trudy's head would be alone, and that promised to be a very uphill struggle with Trudy's aversion to having male company.
I reached for Susan's arm and grasped it firmly, then squeezed it twice gently and let go. Susan stiffened at my first touch, then seemed to compose herself against her surprise and concealed her rush of gratitude that I'd made contact with her.
After a moment Susan seemed to get a grip on herself and somehow gradually re-solidified her image as a childlike clown.
She straightened her oversized lab coat and adjusted her glasses and said firmly, "I can HANDLE this. I'm a DOCTOR. I'm NOT gonna cry! I'm NOT!"
From a side pocket she pulled a huge yellow scarf and carefully shook it out, examined it on both sides, folded it very carefully, and then resoundingly pretended to blow her nose into it.
She put the scarf back in her pocket and seemed to be well on the way to reorganizing herself when she realized there was something wrong with her nose.
"BY DOSE!" she screeched, staring crosseyed at her nose and squeezing it a few times.
She made a panicky production of rooting frantically through the side pocket for the scarf, then through the scarf itself, and finally seemed to "find" her red rubber ball.
Breathing an exaggerated sigh of relief, she put the ball back on her nose and tucked the scarf away.
"Whoo, boy!" she exclaimed, "I gotta be more careful! That's happened twice this week."
From the darkness all around us came Trudy's voice.
"Real doctors don't have red balls on their noses."
Susan didn't have to pretend to be startled. She made quite a production of regaining her composure and then seemed highly insulted as she spoke.
"You should know better than to sneak up on people, and they do SO have red balls on their noses. I have one, don't I?"
After a moment, Trudy's voice said, "That's 'cause you aren't a real doctor."
The Susan-kid's mouth hung open in total, horrified shock and mortification.
"I am TOO a real doctor! I'm DOCTOR SUSAN! Look at this! Watch!"
Susan fished a large folded piece of paper out of another pocket and started unfolding it... and unfolding it... and unfolding it...until finally she had an obviously handmade, three-foot-wide replica of a college degree with the letters "DR" in the very center. She held the huge certificate up high.
"SEE?!" she yelled into the darkness. "I have THIS!"
"Big deal. That's a fake. I could make one better than that. It's too big, too."
Susan appeared further shocked at Trudy's disbelief.
"Waitaminnit!" she said, dropping the paper and reaching for another pocket. "Just you waitaminnit! I'll SHOW you I'm a real doctor!"
She spun so fast in reaching for the coat pocket that it swept away from her, so she sort of chased it in a circle a few times before finally catching it, just like Harpo Marx used to do when looking for his horn.
From that pocket she pulled a vastly oversized stethoscope and put it around her neck, then smugly asked, "NOW do you believe I'm a doctor?"
The voice came back at her almost instantly.
"No. I don't believe you're a doctor."
Susan appeared absolutely flabbergasted.
"Do you have any idea how HARD it is to get a big degree like that?"
"Not very," said Trudy, "I told you I could make one, too. A better one. Were those people your parents? Why did they leave you here alone?"
"I... I don't know," said Susan, but she hurried to add, "But they'll be back for me real soon. I know it!"
She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself as she repeated, "They'll... They'll be back for me REAL soon."
"Mine didn't come for me," said Trudy. Her tone was almost conversational. Not quite. "Whenever I was awake, I cried and cried for them, but they didn't come for me... And that man... He... Uh, he..."
Her words trailed off. April's hand clenched on mine as we hung there in the blackness.
"Well, maybe your parents didn't know where you were?" suggested Susan.
"I... I used to think they always knew where I was. All I know is that I cried and cried and they didn't come for me and then I was in here. If you're in here, your parents won't come back for you, either..."
"NO!" yelled Susan. "NO! I bet you ANYTHING that my parents are coming for me right this very minute. You just wait. They're coming! They ARE! They'll take me home and I'll bet they can take you home, too."
There was no answer for a few moments, then Trudy asked, "They can take me home to my house? Do you really think so?"
Susan couldn't hold her tears.
"Yes! Where do you live, Trudy?" she asked in a croaking voice.
"I live in Rockledge," said Trudy, "How far away is that from here?"
"I, uh... I don't know exactly," said Susan, "I live in Plano, and I've never been to Rockledge, but I've heard of it. But I'll bet my parents have been there! When they come back, we can ask them."
"If they really come back for you, will they really take me home, too?"
Susan's voice broke as she said, "Yes! Yes! I'll tell them to take you home, too, Trudy!"
"Okay," said Trudy. "Do you really think they'll come back for you? Really?"
"Yes!" said Susan, "I'm sure. They probably just left me here to talk to you."
"I thought so, too," said Trudy, "But you were acting so funny... are you being punished?"
It was time. I squeezed April's hand and reached for Susan's arm again.
"April!" I called out, "Where's Susan?"
"I left her to play with Trudy while I went out. She's around here somewhere, Ed!"
"Well, we need to go get her. It's time for dinner."
"Okay! I'll find her and be right there."
April rematerialized herself behind Susan and told her dinner was ready.
Susan said, "Mom, Trudy wants to go home."
April said, "Oh. Okay, then. We'll drop her off on the way. Where is she? It's time to go."
Susan said, "I, uh, I don't exactly know where she is, Mom. We've just been talking."
I said, "April, we really need to get going or we'll be late. Bring Susan and let's go."
April said, "There's a little girl here who needs help getting home, Ed. She lives in Rockledge."
"Rockledge? That's a long ride in a taxicab. I only have about five dollars on me, April..."
"I don't think she needs money, Ed. Is it money you need, Trudy?"
There was silence for a few moments. "No," came Trudy's voice. April had made contact with her!
"See, Ed? She needs something else, not money. What is it you need, Trudy, honey?"
Another couple of moments passed.
"I just want to go HOME," said Trudy. "I think my Mom doesn't know where I am."
"Oh, no!" said Susan. "Will you get in trouble, Trudy?"
April said very authoritatively, "Of course not, Susan. It isn't Trudy's fault that she's here. Her Mom will know that, especially after I tell her how hard it was to find her."
Susan took this as sage advice.
"Oh. Okay, then. I don't want Trudy to get in trouble, Mom. If she doesn't even know where she is, she couldn't have brought herself here."
"That's very nice of you, Susan. Is that true, Trudy? You don't know where you are?"
There was a second or two of silence.
"No, ma'am."
"I see." April seemed to consider her next words very carefully.
"Well, this is a kind of dream, Trudy. You're very, very asleep, and it's time to wake up. Do you think you can you do that?"
"A dream?"
"Yes, Trudy. You've had a long dream, and we'd all like you to wake up and come outside with us now. Right, Susan?"
"Oh, yeah! That would be great, Mom! Can you wake up, Trudy?"
After a moment came, "I don't know, Susan. I don't even remember falling asleep."
"Will you try to wake up now? Your mother will be very worried about you."
Trudy said, "Okay. I'll try. Just don't leave yet, okay?"
I said, "We're here, Trudy. We'll wait a little while to see if you can wake up."
There was panic in Trudy's voice.
"But what if I CAN'T?"
"Then we'll try to get back and visit sometime," said April, "But we really need to get Susan home, now. Tomorrow's a school day, you know."
There was suddenly an atmosphere of panic to the blackness that hadn't been there before. Long, anxious moments passed as we waited for Trudy to... To what?... Simply wake up? I had no idea.
Out of the blackness formed the outline, then the physical form, of the Trudy in the hospital bed, but this one had none of the injuries so horribly evident on that Trudy. There were no tubes or wires leading into and out of her body. No sallow complexion marred with burns and bruises.
April said, "Ed will appear in a moment to take us out of here. I'll hold Susan's hand and Ed will hold yours, okay? Don't let go until we're out of this blackness, okay?"
The little girl seemed dubious, but agreed. "Okay."
I let myself rematerialize and asked, "Is everybody ready to go?"
I held out my hand to Trudy and she stared at it for a long moment before slowly taking it.
April said, "Okay, then. We're ready. Don't anybody let go of anybody. We can go now, Ed."
Moments later I was outside again, looking around myself gratefully. That blackness had been pretty disturbing, but when you stayed in it long enough and became part of it, it became a lot worse than that.
Sara appeared to be holding April upright. She glanced at me and nodded that April was okay, then turned to Susan, who was on her knees by the bed, sobbing into the sheets. Dan was trying to divide himself between the readouts and his screens and the child on the bed.
"Oh, holy shit...!" mumbled Dan, almost in a whisper. "Susan! Susan! Get up here!"
Susan glanced up at the screens and nodded, but made no move to rise.
"Take it easy, Dan," she said, "Those don't mean a damned thing right now."
Her tone was that of someone who'd been through hell and wasn't about to be particularly impressed at the moment.
Dan was impressed, though. His attention flitted from readout to screen and simultaneously tried to assimilate the whole event as it happened around him. His mumbling ran together into a sort of litany as he strained to make sense of what he was seeing on his equipment.
I turned to April and Sara again and suddenly found myself on my own knees beside Susan, my legs having given out beneath me. Susan put a hand on mine without speaking and continued staring intently at the girl on the bed. Nothing about her seemed to have changed.
I looked at the ladies again. April could stand without assistance now.
April thought to me, "Do you think it worked? I really don't want to go back in there."
I shook my head and shrugged.
"Can't tell. I couldn't sense her at all until she chose to reveal herself and I'm not sensing her at all now. I think she's still in there, April."
I put my fingers on Trudy's arm and tried to feel her presence. Nothing. I looked at April and Sara and they knew what I was about to do.
April's eyes enlarged and she started to shake her head to veto the idea, as I'd known she would. I tried to go back in there anyway...
... and was stopped cold, apparently on some sort of threshold beyond which was nothing, not even the blackness. Another illusion? I tested the invisible wall before me. It might as well have been made of transparent steel. I almost kicked it, then decided that if Trudy were still in there, my acting like a frustrated gorilla at the gate wouldn't encourage her much, so I tapped on it.
"Trudy?"
No answer. The wall absorbed my tapping and didn't so much as allow the sound of it to escape. I looked each way along the wall but could only see a very few feet in either direction before a certain vagueness seemed to envelope everything.
I walked a few paces along the wall and it was as if my little bubble of clarity remained with me. Just beyond it the world remained vague and black.
When I reported my findings, Sara's tense reply was, "Get the hell out of there, Ed! This is just too goddamned spooky. She may decide to try to keep you for company or something."
"I can't just leave her in there, Sara."
"You can't drag her out, either, damn it. Get out of there before something happens!"
"Not yet. I can't. I have to try to help her."
Sara's reply was an almost-scream in my mind.
"NO! You get OUT of there NOW, Ed!"
Hands gripped my shoulders and Sara's presence was suddenly beside me at the wall. She was glaring at me as she wordlessly grabbed my arms and pulled me to her.
"If you stay, I stay, Ed. If anything happens to you, it will happen to me, too. Is that what you want?"
"I know you mean well, Sara, but you're a big girl. It's your decision to make. I can't leave Trudy in a place like this."
"I'll knock you cold and drag you out of here if I have to, Ed." She readied a fist.
I was about to tell her I'd just come back and try again later when Trudy's voice screamed, "NO! Don't hit him! He didn't do anything!"
Rule thirteen: Play it where it lies, however ridiculous the situation.
I dropped to my knees and said, "Please don't hit me, Sara! I'm only trying to help Trudy!"
Sara tried to conceal her astonishment and continued her motion, raising her fist even higher as she asked, "Are you going to come with me?"
I made a production of terror and said, "I CAN'T, Sara. I CAN'T! Trudy needs me to get home!"
Trudy suddenly appeared next to us and screamed at Sara, "NO! Don't!"
Sara said, "Sorry, kid. I'm not about to let him get trapped in here waiting for you to make up your mind. If you're coming out, do it. If you aren't, I'm taking him out of here RIGHT NOW."
I gave Trudy my best helpless look.
She faced Sara and said, "Just don't hit him, okay?"
Sara looked at her rather coldly and said, "If you come out, I won't have to hit him, will I?"
Everything suddenly vanished. Trudy, the barrier, the bubble, everything.
I found myself on my knees by the bed and a hand gripped my upper arm almost painfully.
When I looked up, I saw April holding Sara's upraised arm with both hands to prevent her from hitting me and realized that Sara had been going through the motions in the outside world as she'd been threatening me in the threshold bubble.
It looked as if she'd really intended to hit me and drag me out of there before Trudy had appeared.
Sara's eyes met mine in a neutral gaze, neither confirming nor denying my speculation.
I started to say something to her when Susan nearly shrieked, "Look!"
She pointed at Trudy, whose eyelids were fluttering as they opened slightly and slowly focused on Susan.
"Did you lose your red ball again?" asked Trudy in a croaking voice.
Her eyes then found Sara and widened a bit.
"You don't have to hit him," she said. "I came out, okay? I came out. Don't hit him, please?"
Sara was trembling as she stared at Trudy. She suddenly started crying and turned away from the child's pleading, accusing stare. Erin gathered Sara in her arms and held her as she sobbed.
April put a hand on Sara's shoulder rather distractedly as she stared at the child in the bed.
She smiled and said, "Don't worry, honey. She won't hit him. She's really a good girl who was just very scared for a while. She was afraid Ed wouldn't be able to come back to us."
Trudy looked at her, then at Sara, who was still facing away and sobbing into her hands.
"Oh. Okay, I guess. I thought she was going to hit him. You won't let her?"
April's voice caught, but she said, "No, honey. I won't let her."
Trudy finally looked at me. She said nothing for long moments. I smiled at her and shrugged and said, "Hi, Trudy."
"Hi. Are you okay?" asked Trudy in a croaking voice.
I looked myself over and said, "I think so. Nothing's broken or missing, anyway."
Trudy nodded solemnly and whispered, "That woman won't hit you now."
"I know, Trudy. Thank you very much for saving me. She thought she was trying to save me, too, so don't be too hard on her, okay?"
"Uh..." Trudy coughed, then said, "Okay."
Dan and Susan stared in openmouthed amazement at Trudy as she looked around the little room at us. She suddenly winced and they became doctors again, with Dan checking all the connections and adding something to the I.V.
Susan checked her pupils and said, "You've been hurt, Trudy, honey. We're your doctors."
"You're the girl in my dream...? Did you lose your red ball again?" asked Trudy in a croaking voice. "What happened to you? You're old, like my mom..."
Susan stopped what she was doing and reached in her pocket.
Placing the red ball on her nose, she said, "I'm not OLD, and I AM TOO a real doctor, see?"
Trudy tried to giggle and wound up wincing again.
Susan said, "Laugh later, Trudy. I can wait, honey."
She took the red ball off her nose and let it clamp onto the end of Trudy's finger.
"That's just so you'll know you aren't still dreaming, okay? I'll teach you how to use it later, if you want."
Trudy looked at the ball on the end of her finger and mumbled, "Okay. Thanks."
I heard commotion in the hallway. Someone had told Trudy's parents and some other medical staff, and it looked as if a small herd of people was approaching the room. I reached over and waved at Trudy.
"Later, Trudy. Gotta go. Your Mom's here, and you're about to have a lot of company."
Trudy rather dazedly looked at me and said, "Can't you stay here?"
April leaned over the bed and said, "Your family's here, Trudy. They need to know you're really back and that you're okay, so we have to go for a while. They really need to see you."
"Will you come back?"
"Of course we'll come back," said April, "How about tomorrow afternoon? Would that be a good time?"
Trudy seemed to ponder that. "I guess so. Okay."
Sara turned and grabbed a paper towel hanky from my back pocket.
She blew her nose and wiped her eyes before she said, "We'll be back, Trudy. Tomorrow, when you're feeling better. We're just so happy you're back..!"
Trudy looked at Sara's tear-streaked face and asked, "Then why are you crying?"
Susan laughed and said, "She's just too happy for you to hold it in right now, honey. Sometimes people cry when they're happy, too."
Trudy obviously thought that was rather silly.
She looked past us to the doorway.
"Mom? Dad?"
A man and a woman quickly came to the bedside. We made room for them by backing away and smilingly waved at Trudy as we did so.
"Tomorrow," said April. Trudy nodded slightly.
April, Sara, Erin, and I eased ourselves out past the incoming small crowd and went to the nurse's station in the middle of the ICU ward. Erin found the coffeepot and poured some for us and we stood around unwinding ourselves a bit by briefing Erin about Trudy's awakening.
Erin was happy, of course, that Trudy had come out of it, but her question to me was, "Did you see anything in there that would help us nail the bastard who did it to her?"
"No. Sorry. All any of us saw was Trudy, as far as I know." The ladies agreed.
"Susan," said April. "She was something, wasn't she? How many other people would launch into a clown act if you left them hanging in space in utter darkness?"
"I think we need to talk to her later," said Sara.
We nodded agreement. Susan would probably be the next new enhancee in Dallas, if she were willing.
Some of the doctors arrived to ask questions, too. Nobody seemed to have questions we could conveniently answer and I was becoming uncomfortable, so I said something about finding a restroom and got the hell away from the crowd.
I don't like crowds and commotion. I also don't like being the center of attention. I was standing at the elevators when Erin caught up to me.
"That doesn't look like a restroom to me," she said, "You'd better pee somewhere else, mister."
"Thanks. I could have made a real fox-paw, there."
I used the elongated, Texas-style mispronunciation of the term.
Erin giggled. "Going back to the farm?"
"Yeah. One of the ladies can drop you by later, if you still want to visit."
In a surprisingly firm tone she said, "I'll be there as soon as I can get free of all this."
She tiptoed to kiss me quick and started back to the nurse's station. There was a happy little bounce to her walk that hadn't been there before.
As I was riding up to the roof, April said, "Ed, Erin just asked me to drop her at the farm when this is over. I think Sara and I could find something else to do for a while, if you want."
I replied, "You're going to leave me alone with her? Gee, lady, she's FBI. She might investigate me or something."
Sara said, "Yeah. Or something. Suffer gracefully, Ed. Don't let us down."
I could hear her giggle as she closed the link.
A few hours later Erin was wandering about my barn apartment, somehow amazed that it could exist there and be just like a real apartment.
I showed her where everything essential could be found and offered her a drink as she sat on the couch and kicked her shoes off.
She opted for a gin and tonic. I grabbed a beer and settled next to her.
"Should we expect company?" she asked, "Or are we on our own this evening?"
"They said we'd be our own," I said, "Why?"
"Just wondered," said Erin. "I sort of wanted you to myself for a while."
"I'm flattered," I said, "No matter what that may really mean."
Erin laughed softly. "It means the same as it would if I were April or Sara or Doris."
"Oh, wow. Now I'm really flattered, ma'am."
I leaned to kiss her lightly.
"You done good today, mister," said Erin. "You surprised the hell out of me, anyway."
"I just got us in. Susan brought the kid around and made her want out, then Sara made her do it."
"Shut up. I said you done good, mister. Too bad I can't write a report about it."
"Not to me, it isn't too bad. I think anonymity in all this would suit me just fine, Erin."
"The shy type, hum?"
"You could say that, if you really have to say anything else about it. Report: 'the kid woke up'."
Erin kissed me and wrapped herself around me as she moved to straddle my lap.
She smiled and kissed me again as she pulled my hands where she wanted attention and then said, "I made this decision a couple of minutes after we took off to go to the hospital. I'd almost made it once before, but your cafeteria trick put me off and then you left the lab. You aren't getting away this time."
She rubbed herself against me and kissed me again.
"Well, ma'am," I said, "I don't want to give you the impression I'm easy, of course, but I'd hate like hell to disappoint you, so I'm going to cooperate."
"I thought you might." She giggled and twitched against the bulge in my pants as she said, "We're going to get to know each other a bit tonight."
"Oh, good," I said, "Good idea. I was afraid I'd have to drug you, tie you down, and brainwash you for a week or so to bring you into my master plan."
Erin giggled again. "Master plan?"
"Yeah. That world takeover plot that Sara let slip. Everything that's happened to you since we met in the cafeteria has been nothing more than part of a ploy to get you into my arms and my bed. The world has turned on its axis only for the purpose of creating this moment between us."
"Ah, I see... Wow, you went to a lot of trouble, then, but I guess it worked, didn't it?"
"Yup. Seems so. You pounced on me a little ahead of schedule, but..."
Erin kissed me to silence and kissed me again to make sure she'd interrupted me solidly.
"I need to be washed and rubbed and bedded," she said, "And if I let you keep talking it won't happen until tomorrow. I don't want to wait."
"Let's go, then. I hope you're a true sensualist, 'cause I have some black cherry oil."
"Black cherry oil? Is there something special about black cherry oil?"
"Damned right there is. I like the stuff and I'll be licking it off you."
Erin's eyes got brighter at the prospect. I felt the surge of lust emanate from her and wash over me. I sent it back to her and her eyes widened, then I kissed her and sent it through her again. Suddenly I felt something warm and wet happen in her.
"Umph..!" said Erin, her eyes opening wide as she broke the kiss. "Uuuhhh... what..? Oh, my..!"
She looked down to see a dark dampness spread from the center of her jeans, then looked into my eyes and asked, "If you've made this happen already...?"
Erin put her drink down and asked, "Am I going to survive a romp with you, Ed?"
"Jeez, lady, I hope so," I said, " 'Cause I'm pretty sure I'm gonna want more."
"Well, I'll just have to hang on, then," said Erin, running a fingernail over my zipper, "And hope for the best, I guess."
I assumed a formal face and said, "Money back if not completely satisfied."
Erin giggled and leaned back to laugh. I suddenly realized how large her breasts actually were as they stretched the fabric of her blouse in my direction.
I kissed her right breast through the fabric and sent a little jolt of orgasmic pleasure into her through her nipple. She jerked slightly and gasped.
Another jolt made her stiffen and gasp and freeze, then her head tilted to look down at me and she asked, "The other one, too?"
I did so. Erin shuddered from it and breathed deeply after the little series of shocks had passed completely through her.
"Nice," she whispered, "Very nice."
Her lips appeared slightly swollen as she looked down between us again with a slightly glassy gaze and said, "I seem to be very ready for you. Shall we?"
Erin got to her feet and stripped off her jeans, taking a last look at the damp spot between the legs before wadding them and tossing them at the bedroom door.
She stood before me with the shirttails of the blouse dipping low in the front and back, barely concealing her from my view, but the higher cut sides of the blouse's lower seam allowed me a view of her legs almost up to her waist.
They were solid, well-shaped and well-filled legs, not quite as thin as I'd imagined while she'd been wearing her jeans.
I was about to pull my boot off when she said, "Here, let me."
She took my boot in her hand and abruptly swung a leg over mine, making something of a production of the procedure as she pulled my shin firmly up between her legs and pulled on the heel of my boot.
I felt the dampness soaking into my pantsleg just below my knee and looked, but she had my leg snuggled in there and there was nothing to see.
Erin could have yanked my boot off with two fingers and we both knew it. Instead, she worked the boot off my foot in small pulls and wigglings that maximized her contact with my shin for several long seconds.
When the boot pulled free, she dropped it by the couch and stepped slightly over to pull my other boot up into the same position. She bent at the hips to work it off and the shirttail rode up as her legs extended themselves tautly.
As she put her hands on my boot, she turned to look back at me and grinned.
"I know some stimulating tricks, too," she said, "How's the view back there?"
"Uh," I said intelligently, staring at her legs, "Oh, fine, ma'am. Just fine. Very fine, in fact."
Erin giggled and pulled my boot up as before, snuggling it into her crotch and wiggling it off. This time the dampness permeated my pantsleg almost instantly and spread quickly. Erin was turning herself on as much as I had turned her on.
"Did you know I was once a military nurse, Ed?"
Erin dropped my boot and turned around. I shook my head as I stared first at her thighs and then let my eyes meet hers.
"Nope, I didn't know that."
I stood and reached for her blouse buttons. Erin let me undo them and slip the blouse off her shoulders as she undid my belt and unzipped me.
She wore no bra and shortly there were two delicious-looking breasts beneath my hands as her hands found me and freed me from my pants.
I kissed her and nuzzled her neck, then started to lower myself to pay some attention to her breasts. She put a hand under my chin and stopped me.
"Those can wait," she said, "Right now I'm going to perform a short-arms inspection, if you don't mind."
Erin wrapped her hands around my dick and squeezed. If anything, I got harder in her grasp.
"So far, so good," she said, lowering her face to lick the first few inches of it.
It throbbed and bucked in her grasp.
"Reactions seem good, too," she said. She touched the clear lubricant coming from me and tasted it.
"Tastes about right," she said, busying herself with removing my pants with one hand and keeping a grip on me with the other, "Well, I guess you pass, Ed."
"You're something of a tease, aren't you?"
"Me? Never," she said, straightening.
She seemed to suddenly notice she was still wearing her panties and quickly skinned out of them.
I tossed my shirt on the couch and pulled her to me for a solid kiss, my dick standing between us. She wiggled slightly against it and giggled again when it bucked for her. I grinned at her and she grinned at me, then I did something she wasn't expecting.
I got a grip on her waist and lifted her high enough to place her atop my dick, then started lowering her onto it a few inches at a time.
Erin let her arms wrap around my shoulders, and when her face was low enough to reach mine conveniently, she kissed me and continued to kiss me as she sank to the bottom of my shaft.
Her legs wrapped around me and she kissed me again, rocking herself slightly to refine our fleshy connection.
"You feel good inside me," said Erin. "I may have to stay here a while."
"You feel good everywhere," I said, "Inside and out. Stay there as long as you can."
"Can? We don't get tired the way other people do," she said.
"Tired," I said, "Isn't what I was referring to."
I sent a warm, fuzzy feeling into her and it traveled the most natural course to the core of her.
"Hhhuuuhhh... Ohh, that felt nice. Do it again, Ed."
I did so.
Erin wrapped herself around me and leaned her chin on my shoulder and said, "And again, please?"
I kissed her then whispered to her, "You don't have to ask, milady. Just tell me when to stop."
I fed another, then another, of the soft pulses through her as she sighed happily, squeezed me tight, and kissed my neck.
"This is one of the kinds of things that makes my talent worthwhile," I said.
"Oooooo..." sighed Erin. She leaned back enough to see my face and said, "Kiss me while you do that. Can you send it into both ends of me at once?"
"I can. I will. I'm yours to command," I said, kissing her.
The double jolt made her gasp and her arms and legs gripped me more firmly as it raced through her.
"Ohmygod...," she said, "Is this the kind of thing that changed Sara's mind about you?"
I laughed softly, remembering my ordeal with Sara.
"I guess so. She finally got me, anyway."
"I'd bet she felt as if you got her, instead."
"We did overcome some of our differences," I said. Erin giggled and squeezed me inside her.
"I was just remembering what happened when she said 'do me, mister, do me'. You did her. Zap. On the spot." She giggled again, "And the spot was on her jeans, too. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I figured it was some kind of hypnosis or something."
"Nope. Just me zapping beautiful women," I said, "Like this..."
I fed Erin another small pulse, then kissed her as I sent her another one. This time they set off a series of small rollergasms in her. I held her through her slight disorientation and the climaxes and kissed her softly when they'd passed. She smiled in a slightly dazed way and hugged me.
"I think I could stay like this all night," she said, "With you filling me up and shooting those little things into me now and then."
"No, probably not," I said.
Erin looked at me quizzically.
"They seem to add up or stack up, ma'am. Sooner or later you get a big one."
I remembered vividly one of April's better orgasms and prepared to send it into Erin.
"Like this," I said, and let it flow into her.
Erin's mouth and eyes flew open and she sucked in a deep breath. It wasn't until her arms and legs had clamped themselves around me with what must have been most of her strength that she began to release that breath.
It hissed out at first, turned into a soft moan, then became a loud moan. From between her legs came a warm, wet gushing of her pleasure. She was staring starkly, but not at me or anything in particular.
Erin's eyes focused on infinity for long moments before they moved to meet my own. I kissed her open mouth and jolted her again, and suddenly I knew she was using all her strength in her hold on me. It actually hurt here and there.
She breathed deeply twice quickly and let out a gasping soft scream before she sank her teeth into my shoulder, then she furiously ground herself against me and generated her own orgasm to match the two I'd used as bait.
I absorbed every erg of her pleasure that I could possibly capture and fed parts of it back to her as counterpoints to her own sensations. She came again and I soaked that one up, too, and felt it triggering my own orgasm.
I took her face in my hands, kissed her quickly to get her attention, and said, "My turn. I'm about to come, too. How about we bounce you just a bit to help it along?"
She nodded languidly and put her chin back on my shoulder. Her legs relaxed a little so I could move her and I put my hands under her bottom and lifted her a few inches.
Erin's legs began working with me, and soon we had her posting quickly up and down in short, efficient strokes. Her breath became more labored as she headed into another climax, and I prepared to use it to draw out my own as powerfully as possible.
She came again, hard. It was time. I took her face in my hands and kissed her deeply as I splattered my come deep within her.
As she felt the stuff hit her insides, Erin whimpered into my mouth and broke the kiss to take a deep breath, then loudly, sobbingly, groaned her completion to the world as she seemed to try to crush me in her grip.
Chapter Fifteen
Erin and I were as careful about easing ourselves apart and lowering ourselves to the floor as if we were both fragile china dolls.
My lust was spent and my mind was beginning to function again, thinking about more than one subject at a time, but when I cast a glance at Erin's beautiful form stretched out on my floor, I knew that my moment of clarity wasn't likely to last.
Just seeing her there made me want to taste her skin and caress her thighs.
Her lovely swollen lips were those of a satiated woman and her nipples were still standing like tiny turrets. I couldn't take my eyes off her sweat-glistened body as I lay next to her.
She was in that thoroughly relaxed state that good sex causes as she languidly said, "I guess the oil treatment will have to wait a while."
"Okay," I said, kissing her breast.
"But not too long," she said.
"Okay," I said, kissing her other breast.
"You're very agreeable, Ed."
"Yup. I have good reason to be."
Erin giggled softly and said, "I feel so...so... uhm, well, so thoroughly serviced..."
"Is that a euphemism for f.."
She interrupted me. "Yes, it is."
"Just making sure."
"Hold me. Kiss me. Shut up before I start laughing."
"Yes, ma'am." I pulled her to me and kissed her.
Two days later, I kissed Erin at the farm's little pier when she told me she had to get back to the world.
April and Sara and Doris had dropped by to tell us details of the kidnapper's capture.
Trudy had asked when someone would stop the man who'd hurt her. One of the nurses had said they didn't know who he was yet, so Trudy had given them his name. She'd overheard it when he'd called someone from a pay phone. It was just that simple.
When they had found him in a lakeside cabin, he already had another victim, and he'd tried to use her limp body as a shield. That infuriated Doris.
When the guy had tried to bargain with the girl's life, Doris had moved at a speed that had amazed April and Sara. She got between the guy and his unconscious young victim and put two rounds in him from less than six inches.
"He had a knife," said Doris.
"Yes, he did," said a grinning Sara. "A great big paring knife, all of three inches long."
"It was a knife," said Doris, "And he put it to her throat, so it was a weapon."
The cops were still out there probing the guy's property for more victims and matching his hair, blood, and other samples to evidences found on or about victims of similar unsolved cases.
We walked back to the apartment accompanied by Stephanie, who followed us in to see what was going on that would have so many people in her living room. Also to see if food would be involved.
When she saw Erin, she stopped, then walked under the coffee table to sniff and examine her. Erin felt the tickle and saw the big white cat about the same time that Stephanie looked up at Erin.
"Yaah," said Stephanie.
"Oh, look at this!" said Erin, reaching down to ruffle Stephanie's chin and ear.
"That's our indoor-outdoor-all-purpose cat," I said, "Her name is Stephanie."
At the mention of her name, Stephanie looked up at Erin and said, "Yaah" again, as if agreeing with me.
Erin smiled. Doris giggled. Stephanie made herself comfortable and sat watching everybody to see if anything really interesting would happen.
Erin grinned and said, "If I call, will you visit? Julie's always wondered about you."
"Sure," I said, "Tell you what... if Julie is curious enough, you can tell her where to find me. Just let me know what I should or shouldn't mention before you tell her, okay?"
"Um. Yeah, okay. Good thinking."
Erin smiled at me and stood up. Sara brought Erin's overnight bag and purse from the bedroom and handed them to her.
"I'm your ride," said Sara, "We need to visit the lab on the way."
Goodbyes were said. Erin kissed me, then Sara kissed me and then they disappeared into the night sky. April and Doris and I looked at each other for a moment and went back inside. I handed out beers and we settled at the kitchen table in general unison.
We sat sipping our beers in silence until Stephanie jumped up on the table.
She looked at each of us, sat down and said, "Yah," as if to prompt some sort of action.
We took turns attending her until the beers were gone. I was getting up to get three more bottles when the phone rang. I knew who it was.
"You got me, Sara," I said.
There was silence on the line for a moment.
"I need to come see you," she said, "No links. Could you use some company, Ed?"
"I could. In fact, I could use some company until you begged for mercy," I said.
Sara laughed softly. "After we talk a bit," she said. "Or rather, after you listen. It's like that."
"Fine by me, Sara. But why no link? Why phone this to me?"
"I don't really know. I think I just need something very private for a change..."
"As you wish, miLady," I said, "Saddle up unless you want me to come there, instead."
"I'd rather come to your place. See you in a few."
"Something..." I said.
"Yes?"
"If you really want me all to yourself, you might want to let the others know."
Sara didn't answer immediately, then said, "I'll check in with them. Maybe we should all get together, after all for a little while? What do you think, Ed?"
"Whatever you decide, Sara. But I was kind of looking forward to having you -- just you -- all to myself. It's much more personal that way, and sometimes we need the truly personal things."
"I... I'll call them in a minute or two, Ed."
"Okay," I said, "With or without them, though, you're going to be the main course when the talking's done."
Sara laughed softly and hung up. The ladies were curious about Sara's call. I asked April and Doris if they needed me for anything. They seemed puzzled and asked what was up.
"Sara needs me," I said, "She didn't say why, but I'd like to give her an evening all her own. Whatever it takes, just her and me. When she calls you, she needs to hear that nobody will feel left out."
The ladies assured me there'd be no problem with that before they left. I took an extra beer into the yard and waited. Sara was kissing me hello in less than five minutes.
- End In Service to a Goddess, Book 3 -
Other titles from Abintra Press:
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SCIENCE FICTION
"3rd World Products, Inc., Book 1"
"3rd World Products, Inc., Book 2"
"3rd World Products, Inc., Book 3"
"3rd World Products, Inc., Book 4"
"3rd World Products, Inc., Book 5"
"3rd World Products, Inc., Book 6"
"3rd World Products, Inc., Book 7"
"3rd World Products, Inc., Book 8"
"An Encounter in Atlanta"
"Assignment: ATLANTA"
(A Sandy Shield Novel!)
"Bitten and Smitten" (Vampires!)
"HUNT CLUB" (Vampires!)
"In Service to a Goddess, Book 1"
"In Service to a Goddess, Book 2"
"In Service to a Goddess, Book 3"
"In Service to a Goddess, Book 4"
"STARDANCER"
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FICTION-EROTICA-ROMANCE
"Anne"
"Dragonfly Run"
"Field Decision"
"Kim"
"Mindy"
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COMING SOON:
"ANSEN"
"Crystal River Witch"
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