In a half hour her people were up and moving. Tonya set up a chair outside her tent, sat down, and pulled out her notes for today’s meeting, to review and prepare. She didn’t get far before Honey Landis slowly walked over and unfolded a chair for herself. Honey was a petite woman with a narrow face and hair the color of her name. Tonya looked up, metasensing Honey’s agitation as she sat down. “What is it?”
“Got the word from Dr. Stauffer. Not good news.” Honey turned away from Tonya, so Tonya wouldn’t see her cry. Tommy, her husband as of two years ago, one of the few Transform-Transform marriages in Tonya’s household, rushed over, knelt down, and let his wife cry on his shoulder as he hugged her. Tonya waited, patient. She owed both of them more than even her life. Tommy was the head of her security and he had been around in the bad old days when Tonya had been a real tyrant, ruling her household with an iron hand. Actually, come to think of it, Tommy had been around even from before then, back nearly to the beginning, long before she came under the sway of Wini Adkins, one of the first Focuses. Not that Tonya was much of a late-comer, not as US Focus number 22. In the beginning, the household ran Tonya, not vice versa. They even voted on minor things such as responsibility for laundry each week. After Wini beat Tonya into shape, Tonya had taken control of the household with Tommy as her chief enforcer. The coup had worked as planned, but those had been rough times. Tonya’s household ran much smoother now, years later, because Tonya had adopted a more corporate structure and began to delegate. A lot of their current success was due to Honey. Tonya took Honey’s hand and squeezed it.
In time, Honey cried herself out. “It’s the dystrophy, ma’am,” Honey said.
Terrible news. Like polio, Transform Sickness sometimes caused problems years after the transformation, the actual illness phase of Transform Sickness, had passed. In particular, Transforms who transformed after their late thirties occasionally developed a complex neurological disorder termed Transform Dystrophy. The dystrophy was a chronic wasting disease with no known cures or effective treatment, affecting about one in thirty Transforms who transformed after the age of thirty five. The dystrophy manifested itself differently in each affected Transform, always involving nerve damage and paralysis. The dystrophy was progressive; when it reached the lungs and heart, the end came fast. Honey had been complaining of numbness in her legs for weeks and was beginning to have problems walking. If the dystrophy ran its normal course, Honey would be dead in three years. Perhaps sooner.
“Oh no,” Tonya said, and started crying herself. She took Honey in her arms and they both cried together. Tonya let her pain free, knowing it would only fester if she held back. Hard on her people now, but better in the long run. Tonya knew she got to be a real bitch if she repressed her strong emotions for too long.
“Ma’am,” Honey said, drying her eyes, twenty minutes later. “I’m going to have to resign immediately.”
“I understand,” Tonya said. Honey was the house president, Tonya’s number two, the top of the household organization chart save for Tonya. Tonya’s only house president ever. Tonya wasn’t sure what she would do without Honey. “Do you have any recommendations?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Honey was good at what she did and always came ready with contingency plans. “Marty to replace me, Rhonda to replace Marty, and Delia to replace Rhonda. The other major officers would stay the same.”
“Hmm,” Tonya said, and thought. Marty Fenner was currently the house financial officer, the moneyman, as they called him. Very bright, probably well suited for the position.
Probably a little difficult to get used to, at least to start with. She found the thought of a male president disconcerting, given the two to one ratio of women to men. Tonya had never bought into the idea that men should be running everything just because they were men. Actually, given the way things worked in the outside world, Transform men in Transform households often struggled with fairly large adjustment problems. Most were unemployed and unemployable in non-menial real world jobs; in Tonya’s household, with her political duties and her tendency to get involved in the affairs of the world and the affairs of other Transforms, she needed more bodyguards than the average Focus, which tended to suck up many of the able bodied household Transform men. Men who didn’t end up with large ego problems due to their lack of power in a household were fairly rare, Tonya had noted over the years. Marty was one of those, one of the best she had ever seen.
Rhonda was the current house secretary, which meant she served as Tonya’s secretary, aide, and number one gofer. Not very important from the household’s perspective, but from Tonya’s, the house secretary was the most important position. Tonya would hate to lose Rhonda, but the ability to handle money was a talent in short supply and Rhonda was a proven master. Besides, house treasurer was a major promotion, and Tonya knew Rhonda would be happy to put in the extra time the job deserved.
Delia’s switch would be trickier. Kitchen manager and house secretary were on the same level of the org chart, a lateral transfer. They were different positions, though. Kitchen manager was a supervisory position and highly structured, while the house secretary was non-supervisory and unstructured. On the other hand, the house secretary often spoke with Tonya’s voice. Tonya thought about the suggestion for a few moments; the more she thought about it the better the choice felt to her. Delia was relatively new to the household and had risen through the ranks at a rapid clip in the two years she had been here. More importantly, she was one of Tonya’s favorites, one of the people Tonya could talk to and felt comfortable with, the most important prerequisite for the house secretary position. She had the brains and the talent for nearly any household position.
“They all sound good to me,” Tonya said. “Do you see any problems with this, Tommy?” Tommy, due to his seniority, could make a strong claim to the house president position.
“None at all,” Tommy said. “They’ll all do just fine, Mom.” No resentment at all, Tonya read. He liked his position as head of security and wouldn’t let go of it unless ordered. Not even for a major promotion. He even used the old-timers ancient nickname for her: Mom. Tonya glowed with a moment of pure Focus happiness.
“Why don’t you call Delia, Rhonda and Marty over, Tommy?” Tonya said. She believed in the adage that a mostly right quick decision was better than a perfect late decision, and besides, she trusted Honey’s judgment. Her people would adapt. They always did.
Tonya walked up to the farmhouse just before 9 a.m., an hour before the meeting was supposed to start. Polly was waiting for her in the living room. Johnny greeted Polly most respectfully and Tonya pointed him to the kitchen. Over the months Johnny was starting to adapt to his role in life as a Transform.
Delia served as Tonya’s aide today. She had been supremely unhappy to lose the kitchen manager position when she got the word, but going through a day as Tonya’s aide at a Council session would probably knock the frown off her face.
“Is this Ellen’s problem child?” Polly asked, nodding toward Johnny as he disappeared through the door.
Tonya nodded as she sat herself down at the end of the couch. The room was a comfortable place with wooden floors and braided rag rugs. Polly sat opposite her in an old blue high-backed chair with an afghan draped over the back. A now-sparse plate of little hors d’ouvres sat on the table beside her. Tonya reached over and snagged one.
“He looks pretty well-behaved. Are you ready to pass him back?”
Tonya shook her head, her black curls bobbing. “He’s getting close.”
Polly leaned back in her chair and frowned. “So how much more time do you need with him?”
“Going right into business already?” Tonya asked. She heard Johnny getting his orders in the kitchen. Not long ago, he would have been resentful, but not anymore.
“Well, yes,” Polly said. “I have a stack of problems six miles high. I’m hoping you can help me with one of them.” Polly was the Council president, and adept at all the political games. She was a woma
n of medium height, and she wore her short brown hair curled close to her head. She looked tired.
“I’d guess Johnny has no more than a month to go before he’s fully broken in. He should be in good shape then, but I wouldn’t want to pass him back to some young Focus beforehand.”
“Can’t you just say he’s finished now, and pass him along immediately?”
Tonya frowned. “Haven’t we had this argument before?”
Polly leaned forward, and her voice was earnest. “Tonya, I’ve got Focuses all over the country calling for help, stuck with people they can’t handle. I’ve got three situations blowing up as we speak. You’re the one Focus who can train these people without breaking them. When you’re done with them, they’re perfect. Civilized, cooperative, productive members of a household. I need you, and I need you to handle these people faster than this.”
Tonya shook her head and grew angry. She noted her anger and took special care to keep her juice flow smooth so her anger didn’t reflect itself in her people’s juice counts. “No. I do things the slow way because the slow way is the right way. Better for the people, better for the household they go back to. I could tame someone like Johnny in a month, but not without breaking him. He would be eager and cooperative, but half-nuts and screwed up in the head. I’m not going to break someone just because you can’t find some other Focus with enough guts to do what I do.”
Polly sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry. Everyone does appreciate what you do and I wouldn’t want you to do something you feel is wrong. I just have a big problem. Three of them, actually, that I would like your help with.”
“Find someone else to tame them. It isn’t hard. All it takes is a little backbone,” Tonya said, testy. “I’m sorry none of the other Focuses seem to have come equipped.”
“I’m sorry, Tonya. I said I was sorry. We do have other Focuses who can deal with the hard cases. Just none of them as good as you are.”
“All right,” Tonya said, trying to let herself be soothed by the flattery. “It just irritates me to hear me called the Wicked Witch of the East until all of a sudden some young Focus picks up a Transform she can’t handle. Then you want to know how cruel I can be, just so you can run people through a people-breaking mill. I’m not going to run an operation like that. If you want to chew people up, find some other Focus.”
Polly waited her out, leaning back in her chair.
“Feel better?” she asked.
Tonya sighed. “All right,” she said again. “What did you want to know?”
“The three you’re working on now. What shape are they in?”
“I’ve told you about Johnny. Ben Sterling, my replacement for Phil, is in worse shape. He’s well behaved if I’m standing over him and he’s afraid for his juice supply. It hasn’t sunk into his heart yet. I think he’s got another six months to go.” Tonya fell silent.
“The third?” Polly said. “Horst something or other? You’ve had him for months, longer than Johnny. What’s wrong with him?”
Tonya shook her head. “Shot,” she said. “I’m not doing anything with him. I don’t need to. The only thing wrong with him was an incompetent Focus.”
“You have a problem with Allie’s style?”
“The day God was giving out spines Allison Silvey was sleeping in. I’ve known snails with more spine than her. She couldn’t handle a church sewing circle.”
Polly raised her eyebrows. “I know Allie isn’t anything spectacular, but I didn’t think she was that bad.”
Tonya leaned forward. “Look, Shot is a twenty year Army Ranger. He fought in both World War II and the Korean War. He’s seen more combat than he can even remember. He just doesn’t have any patience with fools. Allison Silvey is a fool.”
Polly looked at Tonya for a long moment. “So what are you going to do with him?”
Tonya shrugged. “He seems pretty happy where he is.”
“Oh, no. He’s not yours. You’re just borrowing him. We need you too badly. If you give up one of your free slots and take him on permanently, your choice will impact young Focus households all over the country.”
Tonya leaned back in the sofa and took another of the small hors d’ourves. It was a cucumber sandwich. She always thought the entire idea of a cucumber sandwich was silly to begin with, and worse when the sandwich was cut into quarters. Old cream cheese didn’t help either. “I’m not giving him back to Allison,” she said. She would rather not be giving him back to anybody.
Polly sighed and thought for a moment. “What if I find another Focus to take him?”
“It depends. Are you talking some young Focus barely out of her transformation? Or some older Focus competent enough to handle him.” Tonya knew she was wearing a hostile frown, but she hated to see good people screwed up by incompetent Focuses.
Polly thought for another long moment. “What about Katie Anderson? She’s got nine years and I happen to know she has a couple of men she wouldn’t regret losing. I can convince her to move one of them to Allie and you can pass Shot to her.”
Tonya thought. “No,” she said after a minute. “Katie’s pleasant, she’s competent enough for most people, but she’s not strong enough for Shot.”
“What about Wini Adkins? She certainly isn’t too nice.”
Tonya shook her head. “Now you’re going the other way. Wini may be a strong tin pot dictator, but she isn’t good with people. Besides, none of the first Focuses would add someone like Shot to their households.” Wini Adkins was Focus number nine. She could bring Focus bitch up to an art form.
“She lost one of her men to cancer a couple of months ago. Since then, she’s been talking about trying her hand at breaking in Transforms. I don’t know how serious she is.”
“Well, find her a Transform who actually needs breaking, not some perfectly functional one who just needs a decent Focus.”
“All right then? Who do you suggest?” Polly grabbed another hors d’ourve. Tonya expected her to be looking irritated herself, but Polly was head of the entire UFA. She lived for this sort of thing.
Tonya thought some more. “I can handle Shot. You could. Connie Webb. Rizzari, but I doubt she would be willing to give up any of her existing crew of fanatics.” Tonya stopped, trying to dredge up more names. The more competent Focuses rarely added anyone new to their households.
“What about Lupe Rodriguez?”
“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know her well enough. But Shot isn’t Mexican.”
“Who else? Think about it.”
Tonya thought. “There’s Pearl Innkeep, but Shot isn’t colored. Other than them, I don’t know. I don’t exactly spend my time with the most competent Focuses in my line of work.”
“So what you’re telling me is, out of the 221 Focuses in this country, there are only four who can handle this man Shot. But this isn’t a problem with the man. It’s a problem with the other 217 Focuses.”
Tonya shrugged, unable to come up with a response. The last number she remembered for the total number of Focuses in the country was 209, at the end of last year. Twelve new Focuses already this year. The numbers scared Tonya. By the end of the year, the number of Focuses would have grown by an eighth. Just one year’s worth.
Polly ran her hand through her hair and looked tired. Thinking about the numbers involved, Tonya didn’t blame her one bit.
“Look, how’s this?” she said. “I find some Focus who at least has a chance of handling this Shot character. As soon as I do, you pass your man off and take on one of my problem cases. You finish up the other one a month later and take on another one of my problems. I’ll just have to find a different home for my third. Can you live with that?”
Tonya sat back on the couch, exhausted from Polly’s business. “You find someone decent for Shot. Plus, the new cases need to be paying cases. I’ve got a household to support, too.” Tonya had too much money tied up in investments right now; eventually, hopefully, the investments would pay off and the household wo
uld be rich, but right now, money was an issue. Tonya knew she was abandoning Shot to some fate unknown. He wasn’t the first of her problem children that she had grown to care for. So many of them left her hands to fates less happy than she would have liked to give them. She traded people like poker chips. It made her feel ancient.
“Done. I’ll have a new home for Shot before the Council is done. And thanks, Tonya. There are a lot of people who appreciate what you do.”
“Right,” she said. “Right. Right after they call me the Wicked Witch of the East.”
They went into small talk from there. Mercury Catering, Polly’s household company, had just picked up a major new contract with one of the big Wall Street accounting firms. Polly hoped that would be enough to crack the Wall Street market, and she hoped to see a bunch more similar contracts once they proved themselves. Tonya’s new construction company was about to finish their first house and had contracts for three more. Tonya had a new baby in the house. One of Polly’s kids had been beaten at school, by a group of bullies calling him a Monster. The school had ignored the issue until a small group of Polly’s older kids cornered those bullies behind the gym and beat them up in return. Now the school was complaining about dangerous cliques and violent children. Tonya sympathized. She had struggled with a few similar incidents, until the local school children learned her kids weren’t safe targets even if they were different.
They consumed the last of the hors d’ourves. Johnny came out with a tray of crackers and a cheese ball, and most respectfully asked what they wanted to drink. Tonya pumped his juice supply, just a bit. Her subtle manipulation was too small for him to notice, but the steady reward for good behavior was what had led him to altering his priorities, what would make him into a well-adjusted Transform.
Connie and Esther made it in, as well as Cathy. Cathy Elspeth was theoretically a Council member like any other, one of the three at-large members, but she was also one of the first Focuses. Her voice carried a little more weight than the others when decisions were made, but despite her mildly illicit stature, Tonya still considered her a decent person. She figured that if they had to have one of the first Focuses on the Council, they could have done considerably worse.
The Good Doctor's Tales Folio Five Page 3