Absolute Power 13

False Profit

by Joan Banks

 

Previously in Absolute Power

Larry Jacobs comes into the possession of a Lamp of the Djinn and wishes from a Djinn named Omar.

"...then for my last wish I want the ability to cure anyone of any infirmity that I name." He becomes a healer, making his way through hospitals and accident scenes. He helps where he can.

But power comes with a price and, when his powers are discovered, he is driven from public life and the opportunity to help others. Debby is a nurse of Larry's acquaintance who suggests a disguise; Larry transforms himself into young woman so he can continue on his mission undisturbed.

For months Larry transforms into Sarah, his female persona, each morning and back to his own male form at night. Then, without explanation, his ability to become Larry again disappears and greedy people lust after his power.

In the effort to find out why he can no longer resume a male form, Larry and Debby found a Preacher with a seemingly miraculous ability to heal, Reverend Phil Petrie. While trying to save the Reverend from a kidnapping attempt, Larry, now Sarah becomes close with a local man, Ted and his young son Corey. In a moment of compassion, Sarah also cures Ted's Transsexual sibling and makes her fully female.

In the meantime, a team has developed. Bull, a street-smart former criminal with dubious contacts provides muscle and manpower where needed. Z, an elderly inventor, provides technical support and monetary supply from many sources. Ted, Corey, and Freddy are drawn into the team because they have been implicated with the Whisperer, a nickname that Sarah has come into over time.

But evil people covet the Whisperer's power. In an attempt to gain control of the magics that created the Whisperer, Sarah cripples several police officers out of anger and frustration.

Sarah, the Whisperer, returns to where she crippled the police and allows herself to be punished for the crime. Although she is primarily a force for good - she is thrown in jail.

But outside her incarceration, the world went on.

 

"Stella. Wake up honey." Stu gently shook his pale daughter. The bed creaked rustily. The little girl's arm quivered and twitched under his hand. With a shaky voice, she opened her eyes.

"Daddy?" she said. She didn't sit up; Stella never did anymore without a really good reason.

"Yeah sweetie." He replied "It's me. We have to get you dressed." He tried to hide the urgency in his voice. The folded piece of paper in his pocket was the start of a new life - and unimaginable danger. It was a simple check, part of an inheritance from a forgotten Great Aunt, which was delivered by messenger instead of through the mail.

Footsteps - slow footsteps.

Panic driving his motions, he tore through the room. He stuffed a few vital items into a garbage bag along with the letter from his pocket. The bag tore as it scraped through the small window. He turned back to the closet for another load.

The footsteps stopped. Stu's shoulders slumped - all was lost. He sighed and tried to force his heart back to a normal pace. His fingers found a baseball bat - a reminder of better days.

"Kind of chilly out to have the window open. Isn't it, Brother Stuart?" A lanky man with stringy, greasy hair stood at the door to the room - a sardonic smile on his face. Stu tried to look casual, leaning on the bat.

"Daddy?" the little girl said. She was sitting up now - it seemed a good reason. Her face was flush with the effort.

"It'll be okay honey. Brother Remmy and I need to have a talk." With legs of lead, Stu took a step between Brother Remmy and Stella. Pointedly, he did not set the bat down. Stu eyed Brother Remmy, sure of what he must do. He lifted the bat to his shoulder.

Please God. Please get us out of this one.

"It's wonderful news dear." Remmy, the stringy-haired man said, his eyes locking with Stu the entire time. "You've been selected for the Missions!" Two burly men entered the hall behind Brother Remmy, they each wore light jackets that Stu knew for a fact concealed pistols.

Stu had no chance. He looked at his daughter with sadness, sighed, and dropped the bat to the ground.

Almost like a funeral procession, Remmy led Stu from the room.

 

"In national news, the former software company Zeron has delved further into the hardware market. Known initially for their office support and gaming software, Zeron is now primarily for their breakthrough microprocessor design which effects nearly every facet of our lives.

Initially started as a family project, Zeron is headed by Nathan Daniels after the retirement of the last family member Xavier Crandal. Mr. Daniels had a lot to say at a press conference today."

The newsfeed flashed to an outdoor press conference. A handsome man in a red flannel shirt and blue jeans smiled as if sharing a private joke with the audience.

"Friends." He grinned then shifted his mode to that of concerned father figure. "An epidemic of obesity has plagued our nation for decades now." He held up his hands as if to quiet the crowd that was not loud at all. "I know that many of you blame me. Heh," he pat his own, trim belly as if it were significantly larger, "I blame me too. Years in front of computer games certainly didn't help much. Oh, and thank you for playing them, by the way."

The crowd rippled with polite laughter, Zeron's games were legendary. This man had them all eating out of his hand.

"Now, I'm not saying that we contributed to the problem. Those pesky lawyers won't let me say that." The crowd laughed again. "But I am saying that we have done something to cure it." He started rolling up his sleeve, exposing a muscular arm. He pointed to a spot on his bare forearm.

"See this?" Nathan asked the crowd. He glanced at his arm again and moved his finger over to another, seemingly normal spot. "No? Actually, neither can I." An assistant handed him a small flashlight which he shown onto his arm. A patch of red numbers appeared on his skin. The numbers seemed to be changing constantly. He looked up and smiled again. "There it is! What y'all are seeing is the key to a new metabolism. We call it a `Pseudo Gland'. Our doctors have been working for years to develop a way to kickstart a person's metabolism. Our test subjects have been able to choose what weight they want to be. This little baby does all the work. Eat what you want, exercise all you want (or as little), the weight just drops off and stabilizes. The whole process is perfectly safe and painless. Hear that? Perfectly safe and painless." He rolled his sleeve back down. "Just put a patch on your arm, or your leg or wherever, and this little baby installs itself in a few hours."

The camera panned to the audience. All of the reporters were staring with rapt attention.

Some were absently rubbing their potbellies or thighs.

"But I am sorry to say that it is not available in the U.S." His face saddened, "The FDA has yet to approve it and the approval process will probably take years. We all know how bureaucracies work, eh? Now, any questions?"

The room erupted into chaos and the news feed cut back to the studio. The newswoman had a hungry look in her eyes but she maintained her composure.

"A full report on this amazing new technology will be aired tonight on "Weekly Investigates." She said.

 

Rain poured down in sheets in the gray hours of early morning. Ted was forced to slow the RV to a crawl just to make sure they stayed on the road. Debby shakily made her way back to the cockpit and handed Ted a covered mug of coffee.

"Better put your seat belt on." He said as she settled into the right hand seat. "How's Corey doing?"

"Asleep." Debby said. "So is Bull."

"I could tell." He laughed. Bull's snoring was now legendary in the group. Ted squinted as the first rays of sun turned the dense rain into a blinding glare. Debby unbuckled to retrieve the sunglasses that had fallen to the floor.

"Thanks." He fumbled and put them on. After a few minutes of silence he finally asked the question they both were thinking. "Do you think she'll get out today?"

She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath.

"I hope so."

 

As was his daily ritual, Z put a plate on the table outside Freddy's room. Inside, he could hear the buzz of a television at low volume.

"Freddy?" he knocked quietly on the door. Every morning he asked the same question and every morning the answer was the same. "Anything you want to do today? Anything you need?"

He waited for the inevitable, terse `no'. Every morning it was the same.

It didn't happen. He heard a `thud' and the door swung open violently.

"Anything I need?" Freddy wagged warning finger in his face, "Are you kidding? I want my life back! I want to not be so damn helpless!" Spit flew as she spoke. Z wasn't watching her mouth, though. His eyes fixed on her hair.

"What?" She asked. She ran her fingers through her chunky hair. The uneven sections looked terrible, like a child's first experiment with a grown up scissors.

Z said nothing. Anything he said would be a mistake.

"Fine!" She picked up the tray of food, took it into the room and slammed the door behind her.

Z heard the sobs through the door as Freddy wolfed down her first large meal of the day.

Sadly, he walked away. On the other end of the house, his media room showed different news reports on several screens. When he hit a control on his chair, the volume on one particular television prevailed.

Nathan Daniels was just finishing his press conference. The smiling `Man of the People' was just rolling his sleeve back down. The flannel clad man grated on Z's nerves, for many reasons. Finally he shut that particular feed off.

"Shut up." Z said. Z's body had the vigor of a thirty years old, but his eyes reflected his sixty-year-old soul. Suddenly, regardless of his health, he felt his age. The Daniels conference showed up on another feed. "I said SHUT UP you fucking idiot!" He threw the remote at the offending screen, shattering it. The feed started on yet another channel and the shattered monitor sputtered and smoked.

"You fucking twerp." He stood and cut the power to the entire room. The reboot process in here would take hours, if he was lucky.

At least there would be something different to do today.

 

Soaking wet but free, Sarah stood at the side of the road and waited. Physically, she was cold; it was not the sunniest of days. Inside she felt frozen. The jail she had just been released from was the scene of a special hell, custom made just for her. In other circumstances she would have altered her metabolism to feel warmer - so waiting wouldn't be an uncomfortable chore.

But no, she didn't deserve that. Comfort was for those who deserved it. Instead Sarah crossed her arms across her chest and shivered. Her short blond hair matted down against her skull. She waited.

And waited.

It would have been easy to set out on her own. Lightning fast, she could have been miles away.

No, this is fitting, she thought. Tears threatened to overcome her.

The RV rolled to a stop in front of her about an hour after dawn. Ted was the first one out; he was standing next to her before the side door opened.

He lifted her up with a hug that should have cracked ribs. It was hard to ignore that kind of enthusiasm and she hugged back, lightly. Her wet-rat body soaked even more water into Ted's clothes.

"Are you okay?" Ted asked. Concern and protectiveness exuded from his every pore.

Weakly she nodded but her eyes started stinging. She fought back the tears to no avail. Maybe no one will notice them in the rain, she thought, but dismissed the idea as ludicrous. She shook her head and held onto Ted, her sobbing inconsolable.

"It'll be all right." He said. "There, there."

Still, the crying would not stop.

 

"This just in....The Food and Drug Association switchboard was overwhelmed today by millions of calls to rush the acceptance of Zeron's PseudoGland - the revolutionary product that promises relief to the obese masses. Apparently an impromptu march on the FDA main offices will be held on Saturday night."

 

Debby took Sarah into the bedroom of the RV, careful not to wake up Corey. Corey was Ted's five-year-old son and he worshiped Sarah. A few minutes after entering the room, Debby came back into the main cabin.

"What is it?" Bull asked her quietly. Debby shrugged. Ted was driving again, hoping that putting distance from the jail that Sarah had been in for six months would help her. Bull sat down next to little Corey who stirred lightly.

"Hey big guy." Bull said quietly. "You awake?" The child's face flickered with consciousness and Bull smiled as Corey pointedly forced his eyes closed.

"No." The little voice piped. "I'm asleep."

"Oh, my mistake." Bull said. Debby smiled back at the pair. She never would have pegged Bull for being good with kids, but she was happily mistaken.

The door to the bedroom slid open. Sarah, dressed in dry clothes and with the long brunette hair that she had grown used to, stood with an arm holding the wall. Bull almost said something but Sarah held a finger to her lips.

She sat next to Corey and stared at the angelic face. He still had his faced scrunched up in his `fake asleep' mode. Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes again.

"Are you asleep, Corey?" Sarah asked in her unmistakable contra-alto.

"He just asked that." Corey smiled, not placing the voice immediately. "I'm asleep.

Don't wake Corey."

"Oh, okay Corey. I'll sleep too." Sarah wiped at the happy tears and sat back with her eyes closed.

After a minute, Corey squinted open one eye. Something was different - that wasn't Aunt Debby or Aunt Freddy. He turned his little head.

"Sarah?" He asked in awe. Both eyes popped open.

"Sarah's asleep." Sarah said. Corey struggled with his seat belt. After much squirming he finally freed himself.

"SARAH!" he shook her. She couldn't maintain her facade.

"Hi honey." She opened her eyes and picked him up in a hug and kissed him.

As Ted pulled the RV into a roadside park, Corey was filling in Sarah on all aspects of his life. Sarah felt completely up to speed on critical matters such as a full inventory of new teeth and the exploits of a singing dinosaur just as the RV came to a stop.

Corey rushed to the door, Bull in tow. Outside, the downpour had fizzled to a light mist and the sun threatened even that murkiness. Ted stepped back into the main cabin.

"You okay?" Ted asked. His callused hand grabbed hold of hers. Sarah smiled gratefully but the sadness remained in her eyes.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. She shook her head.

"How long are we going to stay here?" she asked, not letting go of his hand.

"Just a quick stop for breakfast, that's all." He told her. "Why?"

"There's something I have to do." She said, "Right away."

 

Freddy shaded her eyes as she walked into the light of a sun she hadn't seen for a while. The months had not been kind to her. The stress of the rape along with Sarah's refusal to change her back into a man drove her to eat. Her whole life felt out of control, wild. So she retreated to the familiar. She ate. Her once model-like frame was blossoming out in unflattering ways. Her skin wasn't a chic pale - it could only be called `pasty'.

Z stood in front of the house and surveyed the valley below. His was the only home for miles, a fact that afforded him privacy. Privacy he enjoyed, even with Freddy living with him all these months. His right hand was wrapped in a crude bandage.

"Are you okay?" Freddy grabbed the hand. Z yanked it away.

"Fine. I was just moving a monitor." He turned away from her. Lost in thought, he resumed his inspection of the valley. Freddy took a step to his side.

"Want me to take a look at it?" She asked him. He said nothing.

"Be that way. I just saw all this broken glass and I see you with a bloody bandage....Oh, bleed to death for all I care!" In a huff, she turned and returned to the sanctuary of the house and slammed the door.

Z looked at the bandage. Sure enough, the blood was soaking through. He winced at the pain of touching the hand.

"Be that way? Gee thanks, I will Freddy." He closed his eyes and cursed himself for his attitude, "My dear, dear Freddy."

 

"Where are we going?" Bull asked. "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

"Lexington." Sarah told him, she struggled with the map. "Can we get a better map?"

"Wait? Kentucky? Massachusetts?" Bull asked.

"Nebraska." Ted laughed, "I asked the same thing."

"Yeah, we can get a better map." Bull flipped down a panel of the wall and exposed a keyboard and flat screen monitor. "Deb, fire up Elmo, will ya?"

Debby pulled back a cushion from the couch and pressed a switch.

"Muppets away!" She said and blew Bull a kiss. The RV slowed as the deployed antenna added drag. Ted swerved slightly then recovered.

"Elmo?" Debby asked.

"Enhanced Mobile Link and something or other that starts with `O'. Satellite datafeed."

"But that doesn't spell-"

"I know, I know. But it's close enough."

"You want me to tell you what everyone in St. Louis is cooking for dinner?" Bull asked.

"Just a map is fine, hon."

 

"Why don't you just start writing checks to fat people!" The large lawyer with the too-small suit spat at Nathan Daniels. "You practically did that anyway!"

Nathan smiled condescendingly. He noted that the lawyer was nowhere near skinny.

"We pay you, don't we?" Nathan grinned. The fat man purpled.

"There's no reason to get na...na...nasty."

"Wh...wh...why not?" Nathan mocked him. "Here, have a cupcake. Did you even hear the presentation? I most certainly did NOT say that it was our fault." He picked a small chocolate cupcake out of the basket on his desk and smashed it into the lawyers hand. He wiped the smashed goo off his own hand on the fat man's jacket.

The lawyer looked like he would explode.

"Now go away." He shooed him away as he sat at his desk. "Off with you!" He smiled but his hand hovered over his alert switch. The lawyers' eyes widened and he left. The door clicked shut.

"He was right you know. You nev-" A voice crackled from the speaker on Nathan's desk.

"I was very careful, sir-" Nathan started.

"Don't INTERUPT me!" The speaker distorted with the overwhelming volume.

"No sir. Sorry sir."

"That's better. You did lay it on a bit thick but I do have to say you were effective. The idiots are storming the FDA as we speak."

"Thank you sir. Do you think they will get the process approved soon?"

"No, I do not." The anonymous speaker said, "That's why we are pursuing alternate angles."

"May I ask how, sir?"

"You may not. Now go to your next precious press conference. Your speech is waiting."

"Thank you sir."

"Oh, and Nathan?" the speaker crackled, "Break a leg."

 

Sarah's persistent pounding on the trailer door had no apparent effect other than bruising her knuckles. Ted had parked the RV a mile down the road and both of them had walked to the dilapidated collection of mobile homes.

After several minutes, Sarah stood back and let the rusty screen door close and dangle loosely on its lower hinge.

"I'm not sure anyone lives here at all." Ted said. He sat on the step next to Sarah. The wood step creaked in protest and threatened to slide off its cinder block support. Ted stood back up and staggered on a torn garbage bag. The screen door finally ripped its final hinge and crashed to the ground.

"He don't got nothin' to repossess." A woman's voice startled them both. "If you're looking to get paid for something." The woman who walked around the trailer could have been either twenty or fifty. A twenty year old with a hard life or a fifty year old trying desperately to convince herself that she still looks as good as when she was twenty four.

"Stuart Lothan?" Sarah asked.

"Stuart? Ain't we formal?" the newcomer took a long drag of her cigarette, "He's Stu to everyone round here. Not that he's round here much."

"Do you know where we can find him?" Sarah asked. The smoking woman looked appraisingly at Sarah and then turned her attention to Ted.

"You might try Buck's. It's a dive bar down on Third. If he ain't there then he's at that church. Strict place but it don't stop him from drinkin' himself stupid. I'm Loreen, honey." Her stare locked onto the handsome Ted, who backed up awkwardly.

"Um....thank you." Ted said. He reached to help Sarah up.

"Any time honey." Loreen still maintained her lock stare. Awkwardly, Ted and Sarah walked off.

Back in the RV, Bull and Debby busied themselves with their own version of home-schooling Corey. Corey concentrated on the computer with rapt attention.

"Find what you need?" Debby asked.

"No," Sarah told her, "but Ted's new girlfriend is aiming us in the right direction."

 

By two o'clock Bull pulled the RV into the parking lot of Buck's. Ted reached for his jacket.

"Oooh, PRETTY!" Ted heard Corey say. When he saw what Corey was looking at, Ted had to agree.

And disapprove. His jaw dropped.

Debby and Sarah were dressed in clothes that could only be called `slutty'. They wore halter-tops and skirts that were far too short for propriety. Their breasts were larger, their waists skinnier and legs longer.

"Don't these people have jobs?" Bull exclaimed from the drivers seat, "I mean look at all...NO! NO WAY!" He stood quickly when he spied the pair at the rear of the vehicle.

"Jesus, cover yourself!" Bull grabbed another jacket out of the closet and wrapped it hastily around Debby.

"You seemed to like my body the other night." Debby pouted and shook off the jacket.

"Don't worry baby, we've dealt with this before."

"I don't have to like it." Bull said. Ted, who had regained his voice, agreed.

"We'll be right back." Sarah caressed Ted's cheek and tousled Corey's hair before kissing the boy's forehead. "For luck." She told the boy who beamed back at her.

"Lucky you." Ted told his son after the women had left.

A layer of smoke hovered in the air like a lowering fog bank. Men gathered around pool tables and at the long bar at the far end of the room. Every eye turned to Sarah and Debby when they walked in.

Conversations went silent. The sound of pitchers and glasses on tabletops came to an abrupt halt.

A waitress glared.

"Ain't no one named Stu here." A lone voice called from the far end of the room. A collection of men swore at the offender.

"Who?" Debby asked weakly. Sarah was sure that Loreen had called ahead in warning.

The waitress stormed up to them.

"What're you gonna do? Repossess that piece of shit trailer of his? He ain't got nothin'! Just that poor sick little girl and here you come waltzing in and demand another piece of flesh! Ain't he had enough grief?"

"We don't want anything." Debby started. "And we had no idea about his sick little gir-"

"The little girl?" Sarah broke in. "Do you know where she is?"

"Ain't no one named Stu here!" The drunk called from the back of the room again.

"Somebody shut him up!" The bartender yelled. There was the piercing sound of glass breaking and a short laugh. A moment later they heard a loud `thud'.

"I'm not saying nothing." The waitress replied. Since this wasn't going anywhere, Sarah pushed past the waitress to where the drunken voice had come from.

A man lay unconscious in a heap below a table. No one sat anywhere near him.

"He's out like a light." One man said from the bar. "You won't get nothing from him."

The whole bar laughed.

"Strength." Sarah whispered. Enhanced energy filled her body. As easy as picking up Corey, she lifted him to the chair.

"Bleeding. Concussion. Drunk." She said quietly. "Unconscious."

The former drunk woke up. He was easily in his sixties, perhaps older.

"Nobody named Stu he...." he started, "Oh." He saw the two beautiful women sitting on either side of him. "A dream, right?"

"We have to find him." Sarah said. "We have medicine for his daughter."

"Nice try." The drunk said. He couldn't ever remember being this sober.

"She's dying." Sarah said. Debby looked at her in alarm.

"How did you know that?" he asked. Sarah pondered her answer and decided to use the truth.

"Her mother." Sarah said, closing her eyes to force back tears.

"Her mother's dead." The old man said. "Has been for years."

"No." Sarah said carefully. "It was yesterday." Debby just stared at her friend in amazement. How could Sarah let someone die? Ever?

The old man looked into Sarah's eyes and saw the truth there. Her eyes were profoundly sad. Tears welled up in his eyes - his emotions threatened to give way.

"Let's get out of here." He said.

As the three of them walked out, the waitress picked up the phone.

 

Z had an incredible information-gathering network. Combined with the on-the-street resources that Bull had provided, the amount of data was staggering.

Miles away Z and a few trusted friends had a small R&D center. They fiddled with existing technology to use in interesting ways. Several times a year, Z would send them a new development of his own and the number of their own innovations would increase exponentially.

Much of the new technology made it to the private sector in one form or another but Z was always careful to keep this parent R&D safe house secret.

For his own reasons.

None of his researchers lacked for money. Filtering the new inventions through dummy corporations and legit ones had made each of them independently wealthy.

Z was not stingy but he was also not present too often. He spent weeks at a time in his hidden mountain home, taking care of an unseen friend. But, for reasons of his own, today he decided to visit the lab.

Freddy was alone in the mountain hide-away. Rather than spending her time moping in her room as usual, she decided to make use of the facilities.

Three screens displayed all the information she was interested in. On the left, a complex AI system tracked all shipments from the Middle East, looking for anomalies. Ships that took far too long to get to their destination, certain cargoes and places of origin all culminated in a possibility of another Lamp of the Djinn. If Sarah wouldn't whisper her back to being a man, then she could wish it at least. On the right the screen swapped between a compilation of every medical insurance claim in the country and large scale purchases as well as things like UFO sightings and other unexplainable things. Interesting items were flagged and further research may or may not begin. In the center was an Internet interface. Since she couldn't effect the other screens, she spent her time surfing. On the far wall, a large screen television showed whatever channel she wanted. At least Z got the premium channels.

She surfed at random, wherever her whim guided her.

Behind her the television volume increased. As had been shown dozens of time that day, a smiling Nathan Daniels exposed his bare arm again.

"Our test subjects have been able to choose what weight they want to be." He was saying. There was something strangely compelling about the man, "This little baby does all the work. Eat what you want, exercise all you want (or as little), the weight just drops off and stabilizes."

In the search engine she typed `Zeron Pseudo Gland'. A number of sites came up.

`Tired of waiting for FDA approval? Get the gland now, Now, NOW! Click the link below and order your very own gland* for just $359.95!'

Next to a winking figure of Nathan Daniels a `buy now' link was flashing. Freddy clicked it. A new page popped up.

`*Pseudo Gland is for novelty purposes only; it is not approved for human use. The gland may come from any of a number of locations within 4-6 weeks - do not be concerned; our strict quality control standards are universal.

Continue? Y/N?'

Freddy made her decision and clicked.

 

The old man's name was Dan. He introduced himself before entering the RV. Inside, it looked like a standard camper again, all the computer screens were hidden once again.

"Jessica was my daughter." Said Dan. He kept wiping his eyes to blot the tears. "Stu told us that she died three years ago. After abandoning them."

"I'm sorry." Sarah put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Debby retreated to the bedroom to change. Bull and Ted sat across from them but did not interfere.

"So, how did you know her?" Dan asked.

"From jail." Sarah was embarrassed to say. "She didn't abandon them. She was trying to get medicine for her daughter...."

"They don't believe in medicine. It's against their church."

"I know." Sarah replied. Debby walked back in and sat down. Her shirt still strained its buttons but she looked much more presentable. "But Stella was so sick."

The threatened tears finally streamed down Dan's cheeks.

"She still is." He said, frantically wiping his face. "But it's getting worse. Why would Stu lie to us?"

"You say they were religious?" Debby asked.

"Very."

"Maybe he was ashamed that she would try to steal. Maybe the fact that it was medicine that she was trying to get."

"He was ashamed." Sarah piped in, "If he won't get her medicine, why don't you try to take custody of her? Get her the help she needs?"

"I tried. But no court is going to give a child to a drunk like me." He broke down sobbing. After a few minutes Ted finally spoke.

"Where is she?" Ted asked. "We can help. Really."

 

Ted had no idea where Stella actually was, but he did have an idea about Stu. From there, they had a chance.

Once again, the RV stopped well short of their destination. Sarah changed to more modest clothing, jeans and a sweater and proceeded alone this time.

Along the hill behind the small building a small community was taking shape. Modest one-room cabins were in various states of being built. The air smelled of wood burning and food.

Women bustled busily around the community while the men sat in small groups doing apparently nothing. Their dress was extremely conservative; the women in long plain dresses and the men in black suits.

Dirty from the road, Sarah walked through a hallway, lined with mailboxes and into the narthex of a small church. Dozens of pictures lined the wall under a sign labeled `Our Precious Missionaries'.

The church secretary took one look at Sarah and sniffed disapprovingly. Without saying a word, she stood and knocked on the door behind her desk. Her glare increased as she sat back down, her self-righteous smile was insulting.

"Can I help you?" A young man stepped out of the office. He was dressed in a clean suit that fit him very well. Armani? Sarah didn't really know fashion that well.

"Hello. I'm trying to find Stuart..."

"And what business do you have with him?" He looked at her disapprovingly as well.

"I have a message for his daughter." Sarah said. The secretary sniffed again. The Pastor contemplated this for a moment again.

"No." He said plainly. The secretary looked giddy over this pronouncement.

"It's from her mother."

"Her Mother is dead."

"I know. May I just see her?"

"No."

"Why not?" Sarah was starting to tire of this game.

"Her father and her were blessed to be selected for our Mission." His expression changed to a pleased smile - but only for a moment. His sneering glare returned. "She is a sick child and does not need to be...to be influenced by sinful city women who don't even know how to dress modestly." The secretary stood and tried to take Sarah's arm to escort her out.

"Really?" Sarah said, avoiding the secretary's grasp. "I just want one word with a child and you deny my that? You are making me very angry...Pastor." She spat out the last word as an insult. He caught it.

"I really don't care if a little harlot like you gets angry. Good day, child. I'll pray for you."

The secretary pulled on Sarah but she didn't budge. Finally, she pulled herself free of the older woman again and smiled evilly.

"Speed." She said. The pastor lunged at her but missed. In a flash she was out the door.

She ran through the entire compound at breakneck speed.

Sarah checked every building, every shack before the pastor even had a chance to know what was going on.

No luck. There was not a child anywhere - not a single one.

She checked the surrounding area as well as she could. Nothing.

As she passed the church, the pastor finally had made it to the door.

"Demon!" he screamed. "Get behind me DEMON!"

 

"Dan, I can't just go bothering the pastor just to find out where the damn school is." Harvey Taylor, County Sheriff didn't even take his feet off his desk. "How much you have today? Need to sleep it off?"

"I'm sober, Harvey." Dan said, he wrung his sweaty hands nervously.

"Not from what I hear." Harvey rolled forward and let his feet land heavily on the floor. "From what I hear, you've been hanging out with strange women and fallin' off chairs down at Duke's."

Dan thought for a moment. Technically, it was true.

"I just want to see my little Granddaughter." Dan's hands moved faster. "I think she's in trouble."

Harvey stood up and walked around the desk. There was no doubt he was escorting Dan out of his office.

"Listen, Dan. If you want to see her then just ask Stu. I'm sure he'll send you a picture or something. Pastor won't let nothing happen. He's a good man. Now my supper is waiting so I am going home. Now." Harvey walked Dan out and stood by his patrol car.

"Give you a lift home, Dan?"

"Please Harvey?" Dan asked one more time about his granddaughter.

"Good night, Dan." Harvey shook his head, got into the car, and drove off.

On his drive home, Harvey saw the dust clouds rising from every direction. Funny thing was, there was no wind to speak of.

 

The entire group crowded around the little table in the RV. Debby placed a dish on the table and promptly sat down in Bull's lap. After a moment of chaos, there was food on everyone's plate.

"So what do we do when we find her?" Ted asked, "Kidnap her?" He ladled vegetables onto Corey's plate. Corey winced.

Sarah shook her head, "No."

"There's no doubt in my mind that Stu loves that little girl." Dan said. He spooned mashed potatoes onto his plate. "If she weren't sick, it wouldn't be such a bad life. Let her live with her Pa."

"But that church is hiding them both. Jessica thought that it was getting pretty bad."

Sarah told them. "Something needs to be done soon. Her daughter deserves that."

"You didn't find anything?" Debby asked. Earlier that day, Sarah combed the entire area at full speed, killing off a pair of running shoes in the process. Sarah shook her head.

"All the kids I saw were in regular public school. No sick ones at all and no private schools." She took a spoonful of the veggies herself and made sure that Corey saw her eating them. Severely outnumbered by grownups, Corey relented and took the tiniest portion of vegetables he could.

"Wait a minute." Bull lifted Debby off his lap and grabbed a cell phone off the console.

After a moment he got the response he wanted.

"Z? Bull." He said, "How is she doing? Oh, sorry. Listen, you got a fix on us? Can you do an infrared scan and run it against census data? Yeah, we're looking for a place with way too many folks. Yeah, it's a hidden school/hospital kind of place. Really? Cool. Later."

"Z sends his love." Bull said.

"Really?" Debby asked. Bull shook his head and smiled.

"You think he'd ever actually say that?" Bull snorted.

"What about Freddy?" Ted asked. Silently and sadly, Bull shook his head.

 

Z entered the desired data into the terminal. He had to be careful borrowing satellite time like this but the weather satellite system had more capabilities than even the initial developers knew. He turned to his main monitor and started the search for census data for the Lexington area. By morning they would have their answer.

"Can I help at all?" Freddy asked from the doorway.

"Already did it all. Next time, okay?" Z watched the early data flow in. By the time he had turned around to talk to her more, she was gone.

 

Nathan paced the floors of Zeron. A wave of exhaustion hit him for a moment so he tapped a code on his control unit. Renewed vigor filled him and his pace increased rapidly. As he passed each floor, he noted who was still here and who had left.

Reward loyalty - punish sloth.

The gland area on his forearm vibrated. Nathan tapped a spot behind his right ear and spoke at a whisper.

"Yes sir?" Nathan asked. He checked the area for anyone else.

"Do you have the numbers?"

"4000 units an hour on the site and increasing every hour. We expect a short leveling off around 2AM Pacific due to net capacity. And our operatives in Maryland are in place now." Nathan recited the numbers quickly.

"This place will run without you. Go get some sleep." The voice said. Nathan felt a familiar buzzing on his arm and felt the energy leech from his limbs.

"But sir!"

"In thirty minutes you will be asleep, minstrel. It can either be in the middle of the seventh floor or in your apartment. It's your choice. Remember, you have a performance in the morning." The connection went silent.

Nathan cringed at the nickname. The walk back to his apartment seemed five times as long now that his strength was taken from him.

 

"No discrepancies?" Bull asked, incredulous. "I don't get it." The large man spoke into a hidden microphone in the dining room of the RV. The old man's picture filled a corner of the monitor next to the kitchen.

"It is either not in the search area or very well hidden, Bull." Z's voice stated flatly. "Or the parameters didn't fit. If it was a place that was SUPPOSED to be populated for instance.." Freddy had wandered out for the call and listened quietly. Z had filled her in earlier.

"Can we expand the area?" Bull asked.

"Certainly." Z agreed, "Where?"

"I don't know....just bigger!" Debby's voice chimed in.

"Truffles." Freddy said quietly.

"Excuse me?" Z asked. "What in the world...."

"I saw this on TV the other night." Freddy started, "In France there are these buried mushroom things called truffles. They trained these pigs to go out and sniff them out. They aren't good for much else but what they can do is find these little mushrooms when no one else can....Sorry, it was silly. I'll shut up now."

"Freddy?" Debby said, "You just gave me an idea."

 

Raphael looked through the one-way mirror at Stuart. The man looked almost as pale and sickly as his waif daughter now. Remmy had done his job well.

"Well, time to help the poor fellow." Raphael sighed. He took suit jacket from the closet and forced his expression from disgust to that of divine peace.

Pastor Raphael knocked lightly on the door adjoining the two rooms and opened it cautiously.

"Stu?" Raphael asked, his voice full of concern. Stu cringed at the voice.

"Yes Pastor. I'm so, so sorry Pastor." Stu broke down into wailing sobs.

Taking the broken man into a comforting hug, Raphael smiled.

"Everything is going to be just fine Stu." He pat the man on the back. "Just fine."

 

Reverend Phil Petrie was not used to traveling without support staff, but this was an emergency and a favor for a friend. He drove his expensive rental car to the prescribed lot off the main road far from town. A lone recreational vehicle was parked at the far end. Phil parked next to it and knocked on the door.

Debby greeted him with a hug. Phil had been a friend since she and Sarah had first gone on the road. An evangelical preacher, Phil was known for his faith healings. But Phil also knew that God had provided other ways to heal.

"It's been ages Phil!"

"Yes it has darlin'." He held her back to take a look at her. "Debby?" She dimpled.

"I know I look a little different."

"I'd say. Well, it agrees with you. Little Sarah's work, I take it?"

"Guilty." Sarah and Corey rounded the front of the RV.

"Praise the Lord! It's good to see you. Both of you!" He smiled. "Now, what's the emergency?" His tone turned serious.

"Come inside." Debby pointed with a head shrug.

 

A young woman entered the room after lightly knocking on the door. She held a loose folder of papers. Raphael sipped a cup of coffee calmly. Stu's left arm had taken to the shakes and he tried to hold it firmly with his right. More often than not, his grip was successful.

"Pastor," the girl blushed "Brother Simons sent these papers."

"Thank you darlin'." Raphael said, eyeing her lustily. He took the papers. "I'll be seeing YOU later." Her blush deepened.

"Yes Pastor." She giggled.

"Bless you." The Pastor whispered. The girl's eyes lit up in a state of excitement and euphoria.

"Oh THANK you, Pastor!" Her giggling stopped as she tried to catch her breath. She left.

Raphael turned back to the table with a self-satisfied smile. Atop all the other papers in the folder a large sticky note read:

`Power of Attorney will NOT WORK in this case. Guardianship is non-transferable. We have to take this month by month.'

Stu lost control of his arm for a moment. Raphael looked up at him for a moment.

"Stuart, do you remember a little matter of an inheritance?" Raphael asked. Stuart's arm flailed so wildly that he struck himself in the face.

"Yes." Stuart said after sitting on his hand.

"Any reason you would be hiding that from us? Any reason you would BYPASS our wonderful postal system?"

Stuart's lip quivered and he looked close to tears again. Slowly, he shook his head.

"I didn't think so." The Pastor rifled through the folder. "I don't see a check in here, Stu.

The one you are going to endorse for us?"

"Stella needs medicine." Stu said weakly. Raphael slammed the folder shut and walked around the table. Casually he put his hand in his pocket.

"No Stu, she needs faith. Faith in me." The Pastor gripped Stu's shoulder tight. "It is her lack of faith that causes her PAIN." He whispered the last word and his hand twiched inside his suit pocket. Stu's eyes widened. Wave after wave of inconsolable pain shot down his madly flailing arm.

"Looks like you could use some faith in me too." Raphael smirked as he left the room.

Stu didn't notice the Pastor leave - he was too busy screaming.

 

The renowned Reverend Phil Petrie sat in the same church office that Sarah had been ejected from just two days prior. Next to him a young girl, who was perhaps eleven, sat quietly. Her face held a beatific smile - her visage clean and glowing. She wore a conservative dress that fully covered her arms and her legs.

Silently, she sat next to the Reverend. A child should be seen and not heard.

After half an hour, the office door cracked and the Pastor of this local church community stepped out.

"Howdy, I am Pastor Raphael." He held a hand out to Phil and shook his hand vigorously. "Reverend I am so pleased to meet you. Reverend...?"

"Reverend Petrie. So pleased you left a Reverend and his Niece sitting in an outer office for an hour without even a glass of water?" Phil chided but held a smile on his face. "This is Mary." He introduced the young lady. The young girl stayed silent.

"Nice to meet you young lady." Pastor Raphael said, " A lovely child." He told Phil.

"It's an honor Pastor." Sarah (Mary) replied. Inwardly, she noted that their suits clashed.

"May we talk?" Phil motioned to the Pastor's office.

"Of course." Pastor Petrie followed both of them into his most private space.

Pastor Raphael was as accommodating as he was hostile the prior visit. He poured them water and sat at his desk. His chair was subtly higher than the other chairs in the room giving him more perceived power.

"I do apologize for having you wait. We have been having some trouble lately. You can't be too careful."

"Of course." Phil agreed and took a sip of the water. He took a business card from the desk, "Wonderful. Thank you."

"Now, what brings you to our small town?"

"A week ago, I was in Galveston, Texas." Phil said. "We were having a wonderful revival. The spirit was truly upon us."

"Praise God." The Pastor chimed in.

"Praise God indeed. Little Mary here was singing. She has a wonderful voice, like an angel." Phil continued. Little Mary blushed and set down her drained glass. "I was struck with a vision. The service had to go on around me, I was so struck with it."

"And what was your vision, Reverend?"

"Sickness. Sickness so deep that the poor souls seem to have no hope."

"Who were these poor folk?"

"I didn't.didn't know. So I prayed. Show me where the people are! And he showed me your wonderful church. S.So I prayed, how can so many fit in so small a building? And he showed me a key, and your face. You are that key, Raphael."

"We do have a prayer center for the infirm." Raphael agreed, he eyed the two of them expectantly. "Maybe that's what you saw."

"I believe you may be right. The Lord showed me.showed me.He showed me that I must go to them with you and with little Mary. Mary will sing and lift their hearts while you and I cast out the demons of disease! Will you t.ta.take me there, Brother?"

Raphael's pending excitement waned and he plopped back into his chair and peaked his fingers in front of his lips. As he saw his two guests fight for consciousness, he smiled.

"Of course." Raphael said magnanimously as the two collapsed to the floor. He rolled Phil to his back with a kick of his polished shoe. "Brother."

 

The line between dreaming and waking is sometimes fuzzy. All it takes is a lack of sensory input and a certain fuzziness of mind. Thanks to whatever drug the Pastor had given her and the padded box she was in, Sarah wasn't sure what was going in.

The air was stuffy. A musty, stale perfume filled her nostrils. The world was pitch black and she was lying on her back.

A coffin? Buried alive?

She spoke to enhance her strength - to bust out of this box, to live.

Hoarse gibberish was all that came out of her mouth. Somehow her voice was gone, the signals to her larynx and tongue scrambled. There would be no strength, no magical rescue this time. Still she pounded on the box with all of her minimal strength.

Nothing budged.

When the rhythmic sound of dirt being scooped onto her coffin started up, she wanted to scream.

All she could do was cry noiselessly.

 

"Are you awake?" Phil's consciousness asserted itself with the questions' accompanying slap. Angrier than he had been in his life, he opened his eyes.

"Ah, good to see you again, Brother." Raphael leaned back on a lavishly appointed desk and grinned. Phil tried to stand. A dangerous looking man with greasy hair pushed Phil back into his chair and maintained station next to the prisoner.

"What is this? Where is Sa.Mary?" Phil asked.

"The youngster? Oh, she is being introduced as we speak." Raphael stood and walked around to sit at the desk. "Beautiful child, she'll be most welcome here."

"Why?" Phil croaked. "We just wanted to help people."

"So do I Phil." Raphael took a sip of water. "And you are going to help me. You see I did a little background check on you while you were waiting. Impressive! You have access to thousands upon thousands potential converts. And influence! I never heard of such open devotion."

"It is the Lord's work. All I have is because of Him who I serve."

"Yes, yes. Of course." Raphael sneered, "I've heard that. Well now you will use your God given influence to steer your people to..me."

Phil screwed up his face. He looked ready to rise again and the greasy-haired man held his shoulder tight. Phil spat at Raphael. Brother Remmy took this as an opportunity to knock Phil senseless. In a moment, Phil was on the ground, bleeding.

Raphael wiped the spittle off his face with a silk handkerchief. He tossed the expensive piece of cloth into the trash.

"And you call yourself a Christian!" Phil wiped the blood from his lip and pushed himself back to his knees.

Raphael pushed him over with a shiny leather shoe. Phil's head hit the ground hard.

Brother Remmy picked Phil back off the floor and forced him to a standing position.

"No Phil." Raphael called back from the now open door. "I didn't."

 

Sarah woke again. She was still in her coffin. The air was growing stale. She tried to speak again.

The metal disk between her shoulderblades intercepted the signal to speak and deflected it as it was meant to do.

"Wh..wi..sh." the faintest voice said. Great, Sarah though, I'm cracking up before I die.

She listened harder.

"Whisp..will..sh..oo."

"Do oo eeve."

She wanted to scream. If you want to say something, at least let me hear you! The voices continued at their sub-audible level. The temperature went up a few degrees.

"Wh..can save you."

The voice seemed to get louder and louder. Still it remained only on the periphery of audibility. Feeling crazy with curiosity, Sarah listened harder.

The temperature kept rising.

 

"How do you propose to make me help you?" Phil asked. Brother Remmy gripped Phil's arm with vice-like fingers. They remained a step behind Raphael at all times.

"Oh that." Raphael smiled. He stopped in the hallway and held a door so Remmy could lead Phil inside. "Your little Mary. Voice of an angel indeed!" he mocked "Well, your little angel will remain here while you do MY bidding." The lock clicked as Raphael left the two men alone.

A small television showed in shades of green. It was a low light picture of a panicked young girl - Sarah. Next to the television a large one way mirror showed a well-lit room. Young children fawned over Raphael when he entered. He signaled them to take their places. They stood around what appeared to be a grave in the center of the room. A wall slid open on the far end, revealing a large auditorium of smiling people. The front row was full of wheelchair bound people.

"Scared children are easily manipulated." Remmy said in a gravelly voice. "Raphael will be her savior, you'll see."

In the monitor, Sarah's mouth was moving noiselessly.

 

Sarah stopped trying to hear the voice. She started pounding on the coffin lid. At least she would go out fighting.

As if energized by her sudden action, the temperature rose again. She smelled smoke.

"Do you believe?" The voice said suddenly.

"Raphael can save you!"

"Speak your faith and you will be saved!"

"The Whis-"

The metal disk on her neck was deactivated. There was a popping feeling in Sarah's vocal cords. She didn't listen to the rest of the voice.

"Strength!" She yelled. Sarah pounded on the coffin lid. All the while she screamed for strength. Her fists were bloodied but still she pounded on.

Through wood and dirt, she climbed. Dirt was in her mouth, her eyes. Still, she climbed.

Phil found it hard to suppress a laugh. The tranquil grave in the center of the stage spewed dirt like a geyser. The white robes of the children were coated in deep brown dirt. Some of them cried but surprisingly, none of them ran.

When Sarah could get her feet under her - she stood. When she was upright, she felt that the dirt was only a thin layer above her. She jumped.

On the stage, where a young girl was supposed to be indoctrinated through trauma, a young girl stood in triumph. Bloody and dirty, Sarah stood, facing Raphael.

Every person in the room, except Raphael, fell to their knees. Suddenly, there was silence again.

Sarah held her mangled hand in front of her face. Blood dripped on the floor.

"Broken bones. Bleeding. Infection." Her hands became whole.

"Ahhhh." The room said in a hushed unison. Raphael put his hand into his jacket pocket and held the other in a warding gesture.

"DEMON!" He screamed. "You are the evil one! I drive you back with PAIN!" The hand in his pocket twitched.

Sarah's neck felt like it caught on fire. She fell to the ground trying to reach a spot in the middle of her back - a spot just out of reach. The inducer that Raphael used was doing its job admirably.

"Arise brothers and sisters. The demon is under control. PAIN!" Raphael stepped confidently to Sarah and kicked her hard in the side. Over and over again, the hand in his pocket twitched, and each time Sarah was bombarded with more pain.

Slowly the people in the room regained their feet. Raphael's hand still twitched in his pocket.

"P.p..pain." Sarah said. Raphael kicked at her side again - and missed. Slowly, Sarah stood- her pain receptors deactivated. In her hand she grasped Raphael's leg. She yanked on it and he fell hard to the floor.

"Arm short." She said. Her right arm grew to an impossible length. She reached up over her head and grasped the metal disk on her back. She tossed it at Raphael.

"NO!" Raphael screamed, "I am a WHISPERER. FLOCK ATTEND ME!"

Sarah was taken aback. She dropped his leg.

"You are a WHAT?" She asked. The crowd was cautiously closing in. Raphael smiled.

When his nearest subject was next to him, he got to his feet.

"A Whisperer." He said confidently - his flock was on his side.

"The Whisperer will SAVE US." The crowd said in unison. They said the word `whisperer' in a hushed tone. "Blessed be the Whisperer." The same hushed tone on the final word. Raphael beamed.

"Oh, give me a break." Sarah said. "You are a Whisperer?" The crowd gasped at her irreverent tone.

"Yes I am." The Pastor said confidently. The crowd was now surrounding them completely. Remmy had brought Phil into the room. They stood at the back of the stage.

"Bullshit!" She said. The curse sounded strange coming out of a young girl's mouth.

The crowd bristled but no one moved. Sarah looked around the stage.

"What are you people? Are you DENSE?" She said. "If he is a WHISPERER, then what are those people doing sick?" she gestured at the people in the front row, the ones who could not climb onto the stage.

Sarah looked at the crowd around her. They looked dangerous enough if given a reason.

At the back of the stage she caught Phil's eye and winked.

"Strength." She said and nodded at Phil. Still the crowd was silent and unmoving.

"Get her!" Raphael screamed. "Stop the DEMON!" The crowd started to stir.

"Oh be quiet." She said to the Pastor. "And sit down! Legs." Raphael fell noiselessly to the ground, unable to speak or move his legs. Grasping at his throat, he gestured for the crowd to get her. Sarah ignored them all, roughly pushed a few large men aside as if they were wayward puppies, and stepped off the stage.

Phil turned to Remmy.

"I'll be going now." He said genially. When Remmy tried to stop him, Phil sent him flying across the stage. "Anyone else?" He looked around. They didn't challenge him.

Sarah looked at all the people, dozens of them in wheelchairs. Studying each face, she finally saw a familiar one. The girl sat limply in her wheelchair, a tired looking Stu standing behind her. In the pale face of the sick girl, she could still see the essence of her friend from jail, Jessica.

"Stella?" Sarah knelt down, tears in her eyes and whispered. The child looked scared and confused but the color was coming back to her face - her strength returning. Stu put a comforting hand on his daughters' shoulder.

"I was a friend of your Mothers."

On seeing the healing, those on the stage fell to their knees.

"Savior!" The crowd yelled. "Praise to the holy Whisperer child!" The auditorium worshipped Sarah.

Sarah ignored them and continued on with her work. She didn't accept the praise they heaped on her; she didn't deny it either. The worship grew louder with each patient. Sarah smiled quietly.

From his place on the edge of the stage, Phil watched. He watched his friend, now indifferent to praise that should be due to God. He watched her miraculously heal dozens of people. Sarah almost seemed to be enjoying things too much. He watched her ego grow as each moment passed.

He didn't like it one bit.

 

Bull and Debby watched the small group through the windshield of the RV. Dan spoke to his son-in-law with a grave face while Stella ran around wildly, happily. The little girl tossed a frisbee with Corey. She was full of life and energy.

Off in the distance, Phil and Sarah were arguing. Sarah was still in child form.

"I think Dan is about to tell him." Bull said, "This is going to be rough."

Debby stood behind Bull and rest her chin on his shoulder, her arms holding him tight.

Stu listened in disbelief. Dan repeated his news. Stu sank to the ground, weeping.

Stella ran to her father. Soon she was sitting next to him, crying as well. Corey turned from retrieving the frisbee and just stood there, watching.

"Bull." Z's voice came from a hidden speaker. "I have a video feed coming your way. I think you really need to see it."

Bull fed the video into the screen on the dashboard.

The reporter stood in front of a wild crowd, apparently in the midst of some kind of ecstatic fervor.

"This is Kim Yamamoto with Channel 4 news. Behind me are members of the Hushed Cult, a fanatic group of Whisperer worshipers. Today, they are anything but hushed. An event has stirred them into a frenzy."

She turned to the middle-aged woman standing next to her. The worshiper was flushed with sweat and a delirious smile stretched across her face. Her face was marked with a black X, extending from each cheekbone to her jaw, with her lips at the point of intersection.

"The Whisperer Child will save us all. She will bless us and make us ALL Whisperers!

Praise be to the Whisperer Child!" The woman beamed.

"There you have it, Bill. The Whisperer threat has extended to another front - a religious one. This is Kim Yamamoto, Channel 4 news."

Debby and Bull blew out their breath in unison. Still in the distance, their friend the Whisperer argued with Phil, the Reverend. The point of the argument now clear - Sarah would not deny the worship coming to her.

Phil went directly to his car, obviously disgusted. A few moments later, Sarah and Corey climbed back into the RV. Corey ran to the back while Sarah sat in the seat next to Bull.

Bull and Debby stared at their friend. Sarah looked back at them, a defiant look on her face.

"What are you looking at?" The Whisperer snapped.

Bull stood up, disgusted as well.

"You did nothing Sarah." He opened the side door and looked back at her. "Nothing at all."

 

Z finished uploading the video and twisted his chair. It was the first time that Freddy and he had done anything together in days.

"You really saved us this time Fred." He started, but saw she was gone. ".dy."

Z looked at his reflection in the dark monitor in front of him. The curve of the display emphasized his wrinkled face. God, he looked a hundred years old.

Who could ever love him again?

 

Nathan Daniels sat in his `show' office. This was the place where he would meet with the public - schmooze. He pulled up the sales display - a map of the world with thousands of glowing points, more flashing on every moment. At the bottom of the screen a counter steadily climbed higher and higher.

He clicked on a point at random. The display expanded to a photo, life signs and a synopsis of a credit rating. He clicked another, and another. Each user of the Pseudo Gland was instantly incorporated into the system.

This is fun, he thought.

 

Freddy sat on the foot of her bed and turned her purse over, spilling the contents. The small, stiff envelope gleamed pure white. She held it up to the light, was she ready for this?

She blew out her breath after realizing she had been holding it. Freddy ripped open the envelope.

A four-inch square patch fluttered to the bed. The surface glowed with a life of its own when she picked it up.

Remove Backing. Place on Skin. After 10 minutes process will be complete.

The lights on the patch flickered brighter and faster with each moment.

Should she ask Z about this? What would he think of her for doing this? Would he hate her? Be disgusted?

The patch vibrated slightly. The unbidden movement shocked her slightly and she nearly dropped the lively object. She caught herself with a jerking movement of her arm. But her arm kept moving, fat jiggling of it's own accord.

That did it. She peeled the back from the patch and placed it solidly on her arm.

The foreign object buzzed and glowed. It quickly warmed to skin temperature and she felt as if something was sinking into her flesh. She tried to peel the patch back off but it wouldn't budge.

Oh my God, she thought, what have I done?

 

Hundreds of miles away, Nathan Daniels didn't even notice one more light on his display lighting up. But he smiled anyway.

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Joan Banks. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.