by Maxwell Avoi
She held a hand out and said, “Scarlet. I have a story for you that you’re going to want to hear. It’s about Janus.”
Damon narrowed his eyes and shook her hand. “Is this anything to do with them suddenly mobilizing everything that they have to find a tech who ran off with a bunch of their drugs?”
Scarlet looked around and pulled an unoccupied chair from another cubicle without checking to see if anyone would mind. Damon knew for a fact that Paul would mind when he got back from the bathroom, but Damon didn’t say anything. Scarlet sat down and smoothed her skirt, managing to make a perfectly innocent gesture look like an invitation to sex.
“Have you heard the name Ivan Gurrink?” she said, her voice lower than before. Now it sounded like she was murmuring sweet nothings at a volume meant for him alone. Her cleavage peeked through the top buttons of her shirt when she bent closer, and Damon shifted to try to conceal what had suddenly become a raging hard-on.
“Uh. I know that name, yeah,” he said, struggling to focus.
“What if I told you that I could get you an exclusive interview with mister Gurrink, including information about Janus and their corporate practices? And proof that they were testing dangerous drugs on their employees?”
Damon gaped at her. This had to be some kind of dream. He said, “I would say, where have you been all my life?”
“I’m a recent development.” She smiled and dropped a wink, a gesture which made him shift again.
He forced himself to focus, which wasn’t that difficult; as hot as she was, what she was telling him that she could deliver was even more incredible. He said, “Okay, hang on. What is this proof that you’re talking about?”
“I have an interview with one of the employees lined up. He was involved in creating an experimental drug, and they forced him to take it to test it.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It is. They did it to him so that Janus could fast-track it through the FDA approval process.”
“Wait. Wait. There’s drugs approval fraud going on here too? Are we talking about someone from the FDA involved?”
Scarlet shrugged and stood up. “Figuring that part out is your job. I’m just setting up the meeting.”
“Great! Yes, when can we-“
“I’ll call you with the details. We don’t want anyone to overhear, do we? There are enough people staring at me already, I’m sure some of them are close enough to listen in.”
“Right, okay. Ah, here’s my number…” He pulled out one of his business cards and wrote his personal number on the back.
She took it and tucked it into the front of her shirt. “Excellent. You’ll hear from me shortly.”
Without another word she stood and strode out. He watched her go; she was worth watching. When she finally stepped onto the elevator he sat down again. He stared at the computer screen without seeing it, his mind whirling.
Ten minutes later, as he started to make of list of questions he needed to ask, Damon’s phone rang. The throaty purr on the other end of the line was instantly recognizable. Scarlet didn’t take the time to exchange pleasantries; she just gave him the address and a time and hung up. Damon jotted them down to make sure that he had them, and he called up his boss to let him know what was happening and when.
Ivan let Damon into the hotel room. Damon looked around for Scarlet but was disappointed to find that she wasn’t there. Instead, Ivan was the only one there. He wore a sweatshirt and a ratty pair of shorts, and he appeared to be scared to death to have Damon in the same room with him.
“I’m Ivan Gurrink,” he said, once they were settled and Damon had his digital recorder going. “I used to work for Janus as a drug designer, I guess you’d say. A week ago, I had an encounter with a new drug.”
He spoke for an hour, detailing his orders and what Janus had planned to do, along with what Harper had told him about pushing the drug through the FDA approval process.
Ivan took a deep breath at the end and said, “And I have one more thing to show you. This is why I have to stay anonymous, mister Nichols. No one can learn my name, or see my picture. I think…I think I’ve given you enough information to figure out everything you need. Right?”
Damon looked at his recorder and said, “If any of this checks out, then it’ll be enough, yeah, but for right now all I have is your word that any of this is real. What effects did the drug have on you, sir?”
Ivan took a pill from his pocket and sighed. “It takes a couple minutes to work.”
Damon nodded, and Ivan swallowed the pill. He stared at his watch until he felt something changing inside of him, and he said, “And…now.”
Moments later, Scarlet was smiling at Damon from Ivan’s spot on the bed. Damon had never had his mouth fall open in shock before, but now he found that he couldn’t control his muscles at all. Scarlet reached out with one delicate hand and pushed Damon’s jaw closed.
“Trust me. It’s all real,” she said. She sat back and shook her shoulders to settle the now-oversized sweatshirt, her giant breasts bouncing comfortably under the material. “Now. What do you think that this information is all worth?”
A year later, debates were still raging online and in the journals. Janus was long gone, its directors in prison. Harper was in jail for the rest of his life, though it was a fairly nice one given that he’d cut a deal that took out the rotten agents in the FDA that had set up the fast-track plan.
The Janus drug, as it was now informally known, had detractors and supporters on all sides. Some thought that it was a revolution in therapy. Others felt that it was more dangerous than small pox and needed to be suppressed as hard as possible. Damon Nichols reveled in covering the debates, his position now secure.
A gorgeous woman with long, flowing red hair put down the latest issue of Nation Today . A small smile stretched her lips as she looked at the cover story and its Damon Nichols byline. A young girl approached her, appearing both shy and determined at once. “Excuse me,” the girl said. “Are you, um, are you Scarlet Galatea?”
The smile broadened. “I am, yes.”
“Could you sign this for me?” said the girl, holding out a pen and a small poster. The poster showed Scarlet standing in front of a band, wearing a white dress that showed off her knee-length flare of red hair and displayed her spectacular body in a tasteful manner. It was from the release of her first album, Half Crazy .
“Glad you liked it, hon.” Scarlet signed the poster and posed for a picture. She dressed down these days, not quite as eager to display her incredible assets as she’d been in the first days after taking the pills.
Once she was done with her fan, she headed back to her apartment. The crisp fall air was wonderful against her cheek, and she marveled at how her life had changed. The drug had worked, though it was slower than she’d hoped back when she’d been Ivan. Ivan and Scarlet had gradually integrated, both of the personalities taking on the strengths of the other until there was no difference. The echoes of the old life had died away, though she had wound up keeping the magnificent body that Scarlet had first created. Once she’d found out about her musical talents, her looks had helped her land a swift series of gigs that had taken her far.
She unlocked the door to her apartment, the smile never leaving her lips. She had a date later that night, and she looked forward to the aftermath. Her fingernails were no longer claws but she still loved to scratch her lovers down the back when she could. No one had ever gone away complaining, least of all her.
Earning Ever After
Justin scrubbed at a stain on the wall, doing his best to get rid of the soot and get through to the vibrant yellow wallpaper beneath. He sighed and sat back on his heels. He worked at Never Happened, a fire-and-flood restoration company, and while the job paid pretty well he wished that it was more fulfilling. There was something to be said for restoring damaged objects to their previous condition but lately he’d been wondering if he should switch careers. Maybe even go back to school. He sighed an
d went back to scrubbing; there was no money for school anyway and even if he went back and got more training there was no guarantee that he would be able to find a better job.
“Insurance companies are making enough off of this,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe they need a salesman.”
“May!” his boss, Steve, yelled. “You’re not on vacation!”
Justin sighed quietly and redoubled his efforts.
The day was backbreaking. He considered just dragging back to his apartment and falling asleep but he forced himself to stop by the corner store and pick up a pre-boxed chicken dinner. He knew that he had to eat something or he’d feel even worse in the morning.
He had to stay awake for a resident’s meeting as well since he’d missed the last two. It wasn’t so much that he cared about the pressing matters that were discussed there (paint the third floor hallway or not?) as that he knew that the resident administration’s president, Chuck Litt, was just the kind of smarmy asshole who’d hound him mercilessly about it. He knew; Chuck had done precisely that for the last two months. Justin was starting to wonder if the man had anything to do with himself beyond waiting for residents to show up so that he could annoy them. He figured that Chuck was just bored; he couldn’t have many friends, not with that kind of attitude.
Going to the meeting was worth it; Justin considered it an investment. If he spent an hour there then he would save a lot of headaches in the next month. He might get a chance to run into that cute girl in 4C, Helen. Those two things outweighed the raw exhaustion, though he had to admit that the removal of Chuck’s irritation was more pressing. Justin was tired and probably smelled terrible between the sweat and the smoke; he was in no mood or condition to ask someone out. Still, she was worth looking at, so he counted that as a bonus.
He brought his dinner along to the meeting. It was held in Chuck’s apartment, 4A. Despite his fatigue Justin found that he had a hard time sitting still; he ended up wandering he apartment as the others filtered in. Chuck was some kind of historian and his place was decorated with all kinds of artifacts from Europe’s medieval period. Justin knew enough to know that “Europe’s medieval period” was an incredibly broad category but not enough to identify the various pieces of armor and other items carefully preserved under glass. Chuck seemed to like books and there were quite a few that were open to disturbing images. Justin quickly moved away from those.
“Did you really have to bring that here?” said Chuck, materializing at his elbow. He frowned at Justin’s dinner.
“It was either eat it here or not come,” Justin said. “I don’t really have the energy for both.”
He sniffed. “Fine. But don’t get crumbs on anything. Much of this collection is priceless.”
Justin shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll be careful. Besides, I can clean up whatever I spill on.”
“Hmm. That remains to be seen. Still, try not to spill in the first place, all right?” He drifted off into the crowd, most of which was clustered around a small snack table that he’d set up.
Justin thought they had the right idea so he headed that way to see if he could find something to drink. Chuck had set out things like cheese and celery, things that wouldn’t leave crumbs, but he’d also made up a pitcher of lemonade. Justin was pouring himself a glass when he caught sight of Helen entering the room.
She was slim and beautiful, her short brown hair bouncing as she strode inside. Helen wasn’t a shy, retiring girl; she laughed loudly and walked confidently, every inch of her six feet a challenge to the rest of the world to either like it or get over it.
He liked it. He had been too shy to say anything to her, though. Surely someone like her was seeing someone. Or, said his eager imagination, several someones. Yes, that was possible. Maybe she was a modern woman who wasn’t prepared to tie herself down to just one lover, and she had a bunch of them on a string. He could deal with being one of those. Maybe he should-
“Hi,” she said, interrupting his train of thought. Justin blinked and looked around, surprised to find that she was talking to him. She had her hand out, and he juggled his dinner and lemonade until he could free his own hand to shake.
“I’m Helen,” she said. “Aren’t you that guy down the hall from me?”
“Justin. I mean, yes. Yes, I’m down the way in 4F, just haven’t had a chance to…uh. I’m Justin, I already said that. Nice to finally…”
She laughed but he was heartened to find that there was a note of real humor in the sound instead of derision. Could it be that she’d found him to be cute? “Get a grip, Justin,” she said, not unkindly. “So what do they do at these meetings, anyway?”
“Oh, you haven’t been to one before?”
She shook her head, and he had to force himself not to stare at her dangly earrings or the way that they emphasized her long, smooth neck. “First time in six months, I guess. I’ve always been busy before.”
“Wow. And Chuck hasn’t said anything to you about it?”
“Well, he came and reminded me, but I think he’s got a little crush on me, so I figured he was just trying to make time.” She gave Justin an easy grin.
“Oh. Uh. Well, I missed two of them and he won’t quit badgering me. I swear to God, the guy’s more annoying than hemorrhoids.” They shared a laugh as the man in question approached them.
He gave them a smile that said that he was a man who liked to laugh and a chuckle that proved that he didn’t have much experience with laughing. “Hey, kids, we’re about to get started, so why not grab a seat?” he said. Justin thought that he was trying to sound like an event coordinator but wound up coming across as a prissy schoolteacher.
Justin bit down on this observation and looked for a seat near Helen before he remembered that he hadn’t cleaned up since getting back home; he still smelled like the burned apartment that he’d been helping to clean. He offered Helen a smile and was delighted to get one back, but he went to stand at the back of the crowd as they settled into their seats. Chuck frowned at him but didn’t make an issue of it yet.
Chuck launched into a recitation of the amazing things that they were going to accomplish that month (the big deal was the review of the door-decoration policy in light of loosening the restrictions for holiday decorations) and Justin felt himself zone out. He was mostly focused on staying awake, because falling asleep on his feet meant toppling over and probably grinding chicken into the carpet. While Chuck’s resulting stroke might have been amusing it wasn’t worth the annoyance that would doubtless follow.
Justin casually moved to the side, positioning himself at a point where he could glance at Helen. She appeared bored, though she was focused on Chuck’s rambling speech. Beautiful even when she’s bored , Justin thought. Then he gave himself an internal shake; he didn’t have a shot with a girl like that. Maybe he should go back to school, figure out a way to up his game somehow.
He sipped at the lemonade and frowned. Chuck sure liked to make it bitter. Figured; he was probably too cheap to put any sugar into the drink anyway. Unfortunately it was the only drink in sight, so Justin just sighed and sipped at it while he ate.
He timed the end of his meal correctly, finishing just as Chuck was wrapping up. There was a vote about something, and Justin raised his hand at random; he hadn’t been listening well enough to even know what they were voting about, much less which side he supported. By the look of Chuck’s glare, he’d picked the right side. The floor was opened to new business and closed again when none was offered.
Justin went to make his escape but was stopped when Helen said, “I’m starting to think that I haven’t missed anything by not coming to these meetings before.” He turned and saw her standing next to him, grinning as she drank her own cup of lemonade. She made a face and looked at it as if it had betrayed her. Then she looked around and made the same realization that Justin had done earlier before she drank the rest of it. She coughed a little. “Grows on you.”
“Shyeah, like a wart.” Justin was actually surpris
ed to find that he wanted another glass of the stuff, but the pitcher was empty by that time; apparently he wasn’t the only one with that particular urge.
She grinned back. “Hey, I was thinking that sometime you and I might get together for some coffee or something.”
He blinked at the abrupt shift in topic. “Wait, seriously?”
She laughed and he was shocked to detect a note of nervousness in the sound. Could it be that she was really asking him out? “Well, I mean, if you’re already seeing someone then don’t worry about it, but I thought that maybe-“
“No, no, not seeing anyone. And yes. I mean, yes, I’d love to get some coffee with you sometime. Like to, I mean. Please shut me up somehow.”
She laughed and he found that she was very easy to laugh with. He would have liked to learn more but Chuck chose that moment to come over and smarm at them.
“Having a good time? I’m so glad. I so rarely get to see certain residents, you know.”
Justin’s smile turned pained and he entertained a brief fantasy of drowning Chuck in the lemonade. Fortunately for the host the pitcher was empty and witnesses plentiful. Justin said, “Well, time for me to head out, as the baby said. Nice to meet you, Helen.”
“Likewise, Justin.” She gave him that smile again, the one that gave him a glimmer of hope that she might consider dating someone who smelled like a charcoal briquette.
Chuck held out his hand and Justin shook it, reluctantly. Chuck didn’t let go, though. He pulled Justin slightly closer and said, “You had some of the lemonade, at least, right?”
Justin blinked. “I did, yes. Could have done with a bit more sugar.”
Chuck’s answering smile looked pained, as if he’d stepped on a thumbtack. “Yes, well, some people have delicate bellies, don’t they. Still, glad you had some, and glad to see you at the meeting. I hope you liked my kingdom.”
“Your what?”
“Old-fashioned of me, I know, but I consider a man’s home to be his castle and kingdom all in one, don’t you?”