“Stop!” Lori said. “Let it wash through you, Sam.”
Sky stopped. Lori was smiling at him and Sky didn’t have the heart in him to fight off his love’s charisma. If Kali came back with the white Focus, though, Sky decided he would blow his cover and skunk the lot of them. He let Lori gaze into his eyes as he thought; he couldn’t say a thing because Kali was too close now, coming across the back yard of the vacant house carrying her burden. Lori didn’t catch exactly what he left unsaid, but at least she became far warier than before.
This Focus Biggioni was not, thankfully, the white Focus. For one thing, she was no pale ice queen, but an olive skinned black haired beauty of southern Italian extraction who would look wonderful marinating in a martini glass. Beautiful, and sad. Instead of a miasma of corruption surrounding her, a miasma of guilt surrounded her. In fact, Sky remembered meeting her, not too long ago, after the mission to…
Some sort of mission or other. He couldn’t remember. Sandbagged by low juice and faulty memories. Remembering her from some other meeting even before then, but he couldn’t say where.
Kali dumped Focus Biggioni at their feet. “Seems as though Tonya here has realized the error of her ways.” The Focus appeared to be a bit worse for wear, but nothing more than a few cuts and scrapes.
Biggioni glared at Sky. Oh, right. His dross constructs giving him the appearance of a tagged Transform didn’t work well right now, did they? He wondered what Kali metasensed. Likely something entirely different.
Lori caught the byplay, but Kali didn’t, as she was bringing Hancock down from the bedroom.
“Focus Biggioni,” Lori said. “You’ve met Tim before. Let me introduce the rest of the people with me: Tina Williams, Eileen Stevens, and Sam Illison.” As always, Lori was fast on the uptake.
Tonya rose unsteadily to her feet and nodded. Kali had beat up on the Focus already, which didn’t surprise Sky.
Kali stalked over to Biggioni, Hancock in her arms. “See what you’ve done? See how she wants your juice? Why shouldn’t we feed you to her?”
Tonya shrugged, sad. “You could. If you don’t and you get her enough of the right sort of juice, there’s a chance she might recover. You did.”
Keaton’s eyes narrowed. “Bitch. That’s a fuck of a slim chance and we’re going to have to take a fuck of a lot better care of her than the care I got if we expect to see a sane personality at the end of it.”
Tonya nodded. “As I said. A chance.”
Lori cut in. “A chance? What kind of chance? What is this going to do to her in the long run?”
Tonya glanced around and spotted the volunteer Transform. “The first thing she needs is juice. Why don’t you let me pick up the tag on that volunteer? I can feed Hancock juice through my juice buffer, like I fed juice to you, Stacy, after you poached that Transform from me last year.”
Sky sucked breath, waiting for Lori to explode. Tonya had ignored Lori’s question as if Lori wasn’t even present. Lori didn’t explode. Instead, she ate her anger and clenched her teeth.
Ah. Tonya was one of Lori’s famous ‘better Focuses than I am’ superiors. Or did he already know that? Sky hated the effects of low juice.
Kali laughed. “Don’t bother covering your reactions. I know how painful this is, Tonya. Get used to it, because I’m going to have you doing this trick for the next week.”
Tonya shrugged. “Yes, it’s painful,” she admitted. “So?”
“Your fancy pain blocking tricks won’t work on that,” Kali said.
“Pain blocking?” Tonya smiled. “Mature Focuses deal with pain in many different ways. My methods don’t include blocking pain, just accepting the pain. Don’t worry, if you’re looking for this to be some form of punishment, I’m willing to scream for you.”
Focus Biggioni was as far around the bend as Kali. She was also the pawn, in some fashion, of the white Focus. He swore she wore some form of tag. What sort of Focus could tag another Focus? Had the world gone totally insane?
Sky bit his tongue. If he started talking, he would never stop. His thoughts whirled around in his brain so quickly and chaotically he was afraid to utter a word.
“He’s my Transform,” Kali said, her voice almost a hiss. “You can’t have him.”
Tonya laughed, the mocking laugh of the arrogant. “I can fix that problem for you if you want, Stacy.”
Kali growled and stalked off. Then she stalked back and put Hancock at Tonya’s feet. “I’m going to go entertain myself with Tina. At least wait until I’m upstairs.” Kali turned to Tina and gave Tina a more than inviting look. Tina smiled a rather goofy smile and followed Kali into the house and up to the upstairs bedroom.
“You let her have sex with a Transform of yours? Aren’t you afraid she’ll slip?” Tonya said, talking to Lori.
“She slips, she dies,” Lori said. “Having a pleasant week, Tonya? How are you doing on finalizing a deal for a new residence for your household? What did you-know-who do to Focus Abernathy, anyway?”
“You want to release the tag on the Transform or should I just grab it from you?” Tonya said, a glacier to Lori’s person-sized body of ice.
Biggioni was indeed the queen of the Focus bitches.
“He’s yours,” Lori said.
Without warning, the small businessman, in the now very bedraggled suit, stood and walked over to Hancock and gave her a big hug. Moments later, he twitched and died. It would not be all right in the end, and Mary would have to suffer without him. Tonya’s expression didn’t change. “She’s full up, now.” Tonya inspected Hancock, checking the Arm’s pulse, peeling back her eyelids to eyeball her pupils, poking and prodding Hancock’s muscles. All the while, Hancock rubbed herself up against Tonya, moaning.
Lori’s face had gone ashen.
“What, you wouldn’t be able to control Hancock trying to draw juice from you?” Tonya said, to Lori.
“No, ma’am,” Lori said, fallen under Tonya’s control. “Not without killing her.”
“Learn. Come over here and I’ll show you how.”
Lori followed orders. The lesson was painful, at least in the twisted way Tonya taught it. Lori learned the trick in just under an hour. Sky didn’t understand a thing about the lesson; he barely metasensed juice patterns at the best of times. Tim and Eileen fetched water and food for everyone from the cooler in the van, humble and fawningly servile. Sky sat back and watched the master at work, one pissed-off Focus bitch abusing her charisma in ways Sky had never imagined before.
“So, Focus Biggioni,” Sky said, after Lori had mastered Biggioni’s lesson and slumped back exhausted at Sky’s side. “Do you think you might be able to fix me and whatever stupid problems I have once I start talking I can’t stop my mind whirls madly and the words tumble out I’m full up with bad juice and…”
“Shut. Up.” Tonya glared at him. He shut up. She wrote him a note, showed it to him, and made the note disappear. Parlor magic. Up her sleeve.
Crow:
You are breaking your agreement of August of 1963 by visiting the United States. Return to Canada or face the consequences. As punishment for your flaunting of the agreement I want a full description of how you are managing to fool the Arm.
“No, and no,” Sky said. “You know why as well, because of…”
“Hush,” Tonya said. He stopped talking, again, trivially frowned at by the glacial Focus bitch. Tonya turned to Lori. “You’re taking some large risks falling for this one. Annoying the wrong people again. No, don’t answer me. I know you’re doing this on purpose and I’m not interested in knowing why.”
Lori looked halfway ready to punch Tonya in the face.
Tonya, unappreciative of Lori’s response, turned back to Hancock to inspect her blisters and skin rashes, now healing visibly by the minute. She inspected the progress of Hancock’s other healing, paying close attention to Hancock’s left shoulder. Sad. Very sad. When Kali returned, Tonya was sitting beside Hancock and stroking her face; in response Hancock humm
ed in pleasure.
“If you need,” Tonya said, “either I or Lori can handle Hancock now.”
“You taught her?” Kali said, looking at Lori.
Tonya nodded.
“I’ll take care of Hancock,” Kali said. “My responsibility.”
“Yes.” Tonya paused. “This would be for the best.”
Kali eyed the crew. Eileen knelt at her feet and offered her a paper plate with a sandwich on it. Keaton took it. “You rolled them well.”
“I’m not in the best of moods, as you well know,” Tonya said. “My empathy is reserved for the Arm. She’s the one I hurt.”
“Which of those bitches set you up?” Kali asked.
Tonya gave Kali an arrogant smile as her only answer.
“Was it Keistermann? Bentlow? Webb? Weiczokowski? Mansfield? Elspeth? Morris? Teas? Claunch? Fingleman? Adkins? Schrum? Patterson? Corrigan? Julius? Tell me it wasn’t Julius. Please.”
When Keaton mentioned the name ‘Patterson’, the juice pattern in Biggioni flashed, the piece of Biggioni that mirrored the white Focus. Sky convulsed and retched. Lori grabbed hold of him, and tried to comfort him.
“What’s wrong with Sam?” Kali said. “He looks like he’s going to fall apart any moment now. I’d swear his tag is fading…”
“Some Transforms ought to not indulge their curiosity too often,” Tonya said. “It’s bad for them.”
“Ain’t that the shit’n truth,” Kali said. “So, your old pal Adkins set you up, eh, with Fingleman’s help. Leaves you sort of fucked sideways, doesn’t it, Tonya?” Ah, Sky noted. Kali was good enough to read a Focus of Tonya’s talents. He had wondered where Kali’s brash assurance she could handle Biggioni came from.
Tonya chose not to answer the question.
“I’m not looking forward to this clinic raiding expedition, Stacy,” Tonya said. “The faster we do that, the faster we can get this over with.”
Kali sighed. “Sounds good to me. At least I get to torture my favorite Focus. This ought to be just a barrel of laughs.” She took Lori aside. “I know I’ve been a monster, but in explanation, understand that I’ve been shot more times in the last week than in the last three years combined. We may not be personally compatible but I found leading a mixed group of Transforms to be exceptionally enjoyable. If you ever have a need…”
Lori nodded. “Has your opinion about the powers-that-be among the Focuses improved?”
“Not even slightly.”
“Then, Stacy, I’m positive I’m going to need your help in the not so distant future.”
The two lunatics smiled at each other in perfect understanding. Tonya, to his side, muttered “This just keeps getting worse.”
Within ten minutes, Kali, Tonya and Hancock were gone, in yet another of Kali’s stolen vehicles. Sky closed his eyes, futilely restraining his runaway thoughts.
Lori ran her hands through Sky’s hair. “You can talk, now.”
Sky shook his head.
“Something happened to you in the Detention Center, didn’t it? When you shouted.”
Sky nodded.
“Something to do with the Focus whose last name starts with P?”
Sky nodded again.
“She’s supposed to be a non-entity. Just one of those tatty old first Focuses, not active since she led the breakout from the Quarantine.”
Sky shook his head.
“Hmm. We need to get you home, and try to fix you, Sky. At least to where you can talk about what happened to you. You up for a trip back to Boston?”
Sky nodded, several times.
“Let’s get out of here, people,” Lori said. “Tim, why don’t you go get Tina?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Stop That!” Lori said. Smiled at Tim. Sky giggled. Tonya’s charisma’s tricks still worked, making Lori’s people all polite, formal and subservient.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tim said, and hurried off.
“Friggen Biggioni,” Lori said. “Bitch. Eileen, can you give me a hand with Sky, here?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Lori glowered, muttered obscenities, and followed Eileen as she carried Sky to the VW bus.
Chapter 13
In 1967 it is estimated that 10 female Sports (non-standard Major Transforms) transformed in the United States. Of those only 2 are known to have survived 3 months past their transformation.
“Understanding Transform Sickness as a Disease”
Gilgamesh: March 28, 1968 – March 31, 1968
“Did you actually sense the Skinner taking Tiamat out of the CDC?” Gilgamesh said. Outside, a truck passed by in the darkness, rumbling loudly and sweeping the room with the searchlight beam of its headlights.
“No,” Sinclair said. “Her juice reeked of violence. I took off the minute I sensed the Skinner on the latest attempt.” Sinclair could no longer cope with Arms, saddening Gilgamesh.
“Did they succeed?”
“I think so. The CDC building blew up an hour later. You’re familiar with my opinion of the place. It’s had me on edge ever since I got here and started watching the area. The dross in there was more than foul and corrupted, it was polluted with W and X bands, so bad it was almost evil. You should be pleased to hear I got a whiff of them on the way out. I had pulled back to within sense range of the hotel Hera used.”
“Did she fight them?”
“She helped, afterwards, I think.” Sinclair paused, sadness in his voice. “All of the Transforms who went in, including the strange Crow, got out alive. I think the Crow was Sky, but he ended up so messed up by the Detention Center I couldn’t tell for certain. I couldn’t sense Tiamat, but that doesn’t mean anything. Gilgamesh, there’s one other thing. I watched Tiamat for days. Something bad happened to her.”
Gilgamesh took a breath and tried to settle his nerves. An utter panic gripped him, ever since the phone call with Sinclair started. He needed to get better control of himself. This didn’t help. At least Sky was with them. He hoped this meant something good.
“What do you mean, ‘something bad happened to her’?”
“Going through withdrawal scarred her. I thought when her captors at the CDC got her juice, she would bounce back immediately. She didn’t. Her glow isn’t the least bit healthy any more. I’m sorry, but even if Keaton does bring her home, she may never recover.”
Sinclair thought she might die. He didn’t know what he would do if she died. Follow the Skinner?
Only if he had to.
The more time passed, the stupider all his actions seemed. He was tempted to run, nowhere in particular, just far away from here. Find a quiet home somewhere new. Away from all the Beast Men, Crows, Arms, Housebound, lunatics, and people who would kill him just for entertainment. How did Tiamat get him into this, anyway?
If he left the Arms, though, he would be consigning himself to the misery of low juice again, scavenging for juice and food. A pathetic existence, prey to any wandering Beast Man. He would be giving up on his big dream, to matter, to do something to help the Crows and the other Transforms. He would also end up as an embarrassment to Sky, his putative Guru.
Running was no solution. There was no real safety for a Crow, just different sizes of frying pans and fires. Besides, he was making progress with his meditation, and with his new discovery, his rotten eggs.
“Okay,” he said. “If Tiamat doesn’t live, she doesn’t.” He would cope later. For now, he would stay near the Skinner’s place. He wondered how much of his resolve was courage and how much was simple affection for Tiamat. He was so lonely sometimes without her. It was going to take more than Sinclair’s warnings to make him give up on her.
“What are you going to do?” Sinclair said.
“Wait.”
“Good luck, then. I wish you the best.”
---
The Skinner came back with Hancock three days after Gilgamesh learned of the rescue, while he worked in the parking lot of his apartment, under the hood of his beat-up blue pickup truck. Her
sudden appearance startled him so badly he dropped his wrench into the engine. They came in from the east along I80. The Skinner was driving. Hancock slept, curled into a fetal position in the back seat. They were alone.
Sinclair was right about Hancock’s condition. Gilgamesh had never imagined she would be so bad. She looked like someone ran over her glow with a lawn mower. Her glow was twisted and scarred, and leaked dross like a fountain. She left a trail of dross behind her everywhere she went. Her glow was so mangled Gilgamesh couldn’t even recognize her. Except for the intensity, he would have almost thought she was a Monster.
Gilgamesh’s heart sank. Tiamat might easily die of this. Even if she lived, she might end up crippled, in either mind or body. Arms healed well, but he had never imagined damage like this.
She never moved. The Skinner drove Tiamat to her estate and left her in the garage. Tiamat never moved at all. Gilgamesh wondered if withdrawal had consumed her mind completely. She was no more than a vegetable.
Tiamat had never lived up to his dreams. He kept expecting her to be the lion in the jungle, and her life always proved harder than that. He wondered if she would ever become the terrifying goddess of his imagination.
Gilgamesh stayed in his apartment, the one known to the Skinner, and waited. He left his truck packed, ready to leave in an instant. He had already scouted out a new place over in Oakland, outside of the Skinner’s normal stomping grounds, a place unfamiliar to the Skinner. He would live there and come close enough to metasense Tiamat occasionally, to see if she recovered.
He needed to do more meditating. He swore something changed inside of him when he meditated. None of the other Crows he knew who meditated had ever reported anything strange. On the other hand, Gilgamesh realized that compared to him, they were all low on juice. Ever since he found Tiamat in Chicago, he had never been low on juice, and the only time he had taken non-Arm dross was during his escape from Chicago.
A Method Truly Sublime (The Commander) Page 32