The Infected [Books 1-6]

by P. S. Power

  Like a mental problem's load more.

  Prime nodded, “yes. Gabriel is being requested for a meeting at two this afternoon, second floor. Charlot wants you. Dress for possible news coverage. Clothing will be sent down. Also, Mark from your team asked me to let you know that you're really needed for the show meeting. I was thinking about getting a part on that show myself, or maybe doing a cameo... what do you think?” The last line was so earnest that it almost hurt to hear.

  “Honestly?” Denis didn't really know to tell the truth. Prime had to be the most famous Infected on the planet. Girls from fourteen to fifty probably diddled themselves under the covers each night dreaming about him flying in to rescue them and then “thanking” the man profusely. Denis didn't blame them, but felt a bit of jealousy for a moment. His own greed did not want him to be supplanted on the show and rose to the surface for a second. He almost told the guy it would be a horrible idea. With a bit of mental stomping and flailing he beat the greed back after about ten more seconds.

  That really wasn't true, it wasn't a horrible idea at all. Looking at the golden hair and smooth face Denis had to nod. If he didn't look at it like a dick, it seemed like a good idea. A really good one actually. Having famous people on a new show couldn't hurt, could it?

  “Yeah. Um, if you want I'll see what Mark says about it? Prime helping me wash dishes or something would probably play really well. No one expects you to be a baker or anything, and your ego is famous, so if you're willing to show that you can control it... That would probably be a really good idea, all around. Good propaganda too.”

  Seconds after saying it Prime got a serious look and nodded. If he got the full idea, that of him really slaving away washing pots and pans, it didn't show on his face. Maybe he got it and thought he'd do a good job? His powers certainly wouldn't hurt, that was for sure.

  “Thank you. I think that would work well for me. I'll see if the Director and Charlot can help too.”

  With that the guy turned and walked off, not even throwing out a good bye. Ah well, it had still been the best conversation Denis had ever managed with the guy. Hadn't called him an ego driven prick on legs even once for instance.

  A rustling came from behind him. Bed sheets and blankets moved a bit, then the sound of feet hitting the floor and rooting around for clothing in the dark. For a second Denis felt that twinge of awkward regret that always came the morning after for him. Embarrassment, guilt and a whole host of other things that normally caused him to act like a jerk, usually meaning that sleeping with the same woman twice didn't take place. Prophet Darren called him a sinner in his head for a few seconds before he mentally flipped the guy off.

  Fuck that.

  OK, so Pegging didn't have the best face in the world and her breasts were a bit smaller than he liked normally. She was also one of the very few people in the world he really counted as a friend. Back in lock up she sang for him and Clark, nearly a world class talent, to help comfort them and pass the time, even though he'd always been more than a bit of a jerk back then. Losing his freedom hadn't helped him fix that a lot. Being rude now would be worse than that even. She'd helped to keep him sane in the first months. Without that he might not have made it at all.

  Denis turned into the dark and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

  “Hey sweety! I have to go to a show planning session in a few minutes, you can keep crashing here if you want. Um, I'm not very good at this part of stuff, the whole...” Before he could speak a soft grunt came from across the room, slightly derisive.

  “The whole “how do I get rid of the monster in the morning” thing? Don't worry, I know the drill. This never happened and if anyone asks I'm not supposed to admit to anything. Thank you for last night though.” Her voice actually sounded grateful, making Denis wince hard. At least she couldn't see his face. Forcing a smile he crossed his arms, foot tapping playfully.

  “Um, not exactly what I meant, thanks... I was going for something more along the lines of getting together later. Maybe in a few days so I don't look too desperate? Not that I have to play those games here, since we all see each other all the time. And face it, everyone already knows who I am. If I told them we hooked up they probably wouldn't believe that you'd stoop that low. Makes it harder to pretend to have a full social calendar too, don't you think? Also, don't thank me for sex. Trust me I get just as much or more out of the deal as you do. Probably more. I just don't know the schedule is for the next bit is all. Let's get together and do something though.” There, it had all the hallmarks of being polite and really, he didn't know when he had time for anything. They weren't working him to death, but the plans were kind of irregular. Then most people's lives were here.

  “Really? I mean it's OK if you don't want to. I'm kind of used to it. Rare enough that anyone is willing to even... you know. What we did. Even here and this is probably the best place on Earth for a girl like me.”

  He laughed a little, it came out sounding harsh, just because his thoughts had turned to Tobin of all people and how he'd been treated in public. Peg had gone silent on the other side of the room, probably, he realized, thinking that he'd been laughing at her somehow.

  Oversensitive? That sounded like what would happen. He'd spent his own time doing that, so who was he to judge her on it?

  “Yeah, well, anyone not wanting to have sex with you more than once is an idiot. As for the rest, people are stupid in general... Screw 'em.”

  Jumping onto the bed he found her shoulders, large and more solid than his own, and pulled her backward into a hug. Her body was warm, warmer than his by a good five degrees. If she'd been normal this would have led to kissing, given her face that just couldn't happen. Instead, using something he'd learned the night before by accident, Den lightly stroked her lower lip with a single finger. She stiffened at first, then shuddered slightly. When he'd done it the first time he'd thought it had been repulsive to her from the reaction. It wasn't. She loved it and had confided that she could actually orgasm that way if he kept it up long enough.

  That took about ten minutes, then he had to run so that Mark wouldn't think he was ditching out on the meeting. Not that he had any great love of planning sessions. Especially before noon. Did anyone though? Really, he couldn't figure out why this wasn't done in the afternoon, but then Mark didn't actually seem to sleep, did he?

  He did, but when he fell asleep his protective mechanism would kick in and the whole thing got spent in stasis time, so to everyone else it looked like nothing happened at all. Handy and probably a little hard to live with, because other people slept a third of the time.

  The morning hostess in the restaurant didn't blink at his Team Three sweats and running shoes, the blue and white clothing contrasting with the red and white footwear. They all looked a little like flags of course. Probably the point, some kind of “see how patriotic the IPB is?” move. Given the climate maybe they should get little flag pins too? It kind of made sense. He'd have to bring it up with someone.

  Denis saw that at least Kerry, who already sat next to Mark nursing a coffee, looked the same, except the front of her shirt said Team Two. Mark smiled as he walked up and pushed a very fine china cup in front of him and poured a cup of rich scented black. Sitting he took the warm cup in his hands and held it to his face, first smelling it for a bit, eyes closed, just reveling in how good it was. Then taking a sip, he sighed, knowing it all probably looked a little strange. OK, like he was a freak. Oh, well. Denis smiled gently. It was wonderful and he didn't care who knew.

  Kerry took a sip of her own and grinned. It looked charming even on her plain face, small nose, a little upturned at the end, but with high cheekbones that should have made her look hot, and somehow just didn't. She looked just a little like those old troll dolls, except her hair wasn't purple and standing straight up. Her light brown locks sat around her shoulders today, not having been put up at all. They weren't in the kitchen though, so this may just be her normal style, it wasn't the best one for
her, Denis thought, but wouldn't mention even under torture. Around food the hair went up though? Made sense. If he wanted her hair in his mouth he'd...

  Denis stopped the thought and sipped his coffee, waiting for someone else to speak and distract him. Kerry obliged.

  “Ah, ambrosia. They get the really good kind here. Kona or something. The Team Two dining facility serves Folgers canned. It's not hideous, but that's about the best I can say for it. Powdered creamer too, can't even be bothered to put out half and half. You'd think, since it's one of the only groups of people in the world that doesn't have to worry about too many calories in the main, they'd put out the good stuff, but no.”

  Mark looked troubled over the whole concept. For a second Denis wondered if it might be an act or set up for a joke, the hangdog look and head shaking seeming so out of place on him. Instead it turned out to be a real pet peeve of his. His words were calm in tone, but the meaning stood crystal clear. Mark did not like the way Team Two was treated as far as food went. Not at all.

  “Substandard coffee, cafeteria style food that comes prepackaged and frozen or out of cans, and dispensers of generic “fruit punch”. It's kind of like the government is saying “hey, you don't really matter as much as everyone else” with each bite of tasteless and reheated food. Worse, they don't even have to spend a lot more on it. They budget ten dollars per meal per day for food, that's plenty enough for quality. I could feed a family of four better on thirty dollars a day than they're feeding Team Two individually for the same amount.” He shrugged, coffee held in front of him. “Yes, most of Team Two eats a lot more, but that's not a good excuse. Really it makes it worse.”

  The fourth member of their cooking show team sat and nodded emphatically. Warren looked at Mark hard and took a cup of coffee himself, adding cream and real sugar before saying anything.

  “Yeah. It's practically a punishment the way they treat those people. We should do something about it. Maybe we could send some baked goods down for one of the shows? Or... I don't know, that doesn't fix the whole thing. Lobby the Director? He won't listen to me, I'm just a civilian contractor, but you three have some pull...” The look he gave Mark and Kerry felt significant, like this had plagued him for a while too.

  Mark nodded.

  “I like it. Let's do it. It will have to be about halfway into the season though. The network wants to see some of the “color” around here, but it's a food show, not one about politics. They indicated some of the rougher seeming people would be all right, but not for a while, to start they want pretty. We need a gimmick for the next episode too. I was thinking chocolate? Most people like it, so it's not exactly a hard sell for the first show.”

  That started a bunch of suggestions for things that Denis hardly understood. Really, he'd thought a “tort” to be a part of law, but apparently it could also be a complicated and expensive chocolate cake thing that didn't even have flour. Kerry wanted to do chocolate éclairs and Warren wanted to add a really delicate sounding pastry wrapped chocolate chicken. Denis didn't know if he should gag a little or save room to try it. They all looked at him as if expecting something.

  “What? Oh... um... I'm supposed to have ideas too? I thought I was on pots and pans... OK... It's not baking, but what about some hot chocolate? I don't know how to make it myself... but... Maybe one of you could show me how, kind of a “watch the inept pot washer learn” section? People love to watch other people screw up and I can almost guarantee that I can do that.” Denis smiled and took a second cup of coffee. Without realizing it he'd been sipping at his first one constantly, the smooth flavor strong, but not bitter at all somehow. He took it black like always.

  To his surprise Mark and Warren both nodded.

  “Good idea. If it works out we can have it as a running segment. Any ideas as to how to add some people from here into the background?” Mark made notes, his writing clear and precise, the blue ink on white and blue lined school paper deep and stark enough Denis realized he could make it out, even upside down.

  The sip of warm coffee burned as it went down, just a little. Denis thought for a second, then realized he had something, even if it probably would end up being a bit of a disaster. Still... It could be funny.

  “How about this, each week or two we grab some unsuspecting person from around the base and make them do work on the show. Prime volunteered to help me wash dishes and a lot of the first team members probably would be willing to help too. We could get Argos to scrub the floors just by suggesting it, and the guy really loves to eat, so if we need a tester for anything, he'd be great at it. Karen would do it just to help out. Brian too probably. Only, you know, don't make them a special guest or give them the good jobs, just have them do real work and put up who they are under their faces as the camera shows them.” He looked down, suddenly wondering if saying that had been a good idea. Was it too dickish? It sounded like he was saying they should humble the Team One people or something, but he really just thought making them out to seem like regular Joes would work better than rock stars. Make them accessible to normal people. Show that they could do normal things and worked hard.

  Kerry laughed and clapped a bit, tickled by the idea. Mark wrote it down and didn't comment at all and Warren sipped at his own cup as if thinking. Finally he yawned and waved his right hand expressively.

  “We can always feed people too. Kind of the standard for shows like this. Make them test whatever we've made, not just Argos. I also think we should hold to the idea of at least one experimental dish per week. That and our “celebrity kitchen slaves”, maybe get some regular stars in too if anyone will do it, politicians or whatever...” He glanced over at Denis and winked. “Along with a section about training “the newb” and I think we'll have a good start.

  A few minutes later food came. No one had ordered anything, but it all looked good, if identical. Eggs Benedict, cheese filled crepes and sliced fruit. Pears and cantaloupe with real cherry halves decorating the top of the arrangement. If he'd been down on nine, the morning cook would have made waffles or something like that. The quality difference wasn't trivial at all.

  The meeting didn't take all day, since everyone actually worked together pretty well. They finished up by nine, meaning Denis didn't have anything to do in particular until two. Whatever the hell that would be about. Probably the crap from the day before. It made sense. The military can't have liked the IPB taking in a general and his aid. Denis just didn't make the loop on that one at all so far and hadn't worried about it. Did he really expect to be kept apprised like someone important? For all he knew the whole thing had already been resolved already, murder attempt or not. One of the cool things about the IPB being that, since so many people here were Infected and had a wide variety of first modes, no one held grudges if they could help it. You were normally told on your first day to kind of forgive and forget if you felt wronged.

  Not everyone did it of course. Some people had first modes that just wouldn't let that happen at all.

  Most managed pretty well. Like Brian had with him it seemed. It... felt freaky weird to him, the way the guy had just let it all go. Like a trick or something. If Yi wanted him dead though, all he'd have had to do was let the order of execution be served. Those weren't a joke. The IPB could basically get such orders without a trial and kill anyone they wanted to, Infected or not, if needed for the public good. What that really meant varied a lot. Denis suspected that Marcia hadn't lied to him about that though. Keeping a class four locked up didn't last and he'd tried to kill a Federal agent. Twice. That would do the trick as far as getting the paperwork he knew.

  And Brian Yi had saved him. Even his power, which the guy didn't control directly at all, had saved him. From an accident even. Brian normally had to go and fight people that tried to kill others. But he'd come to save him anyway.

  Messed up to be sure.

  Better than the alternative by far. Denis had to smile at that, since for a long time he kind of wondered if life had even been worth livin
g, especially at first, locked up alone like he'd been for so long. The bare steel walls still hovered behind his eyes perfectly when he closed them and thought about it. The whole room just sat, waiting for him, inside. There was no escape possible as long as he carried it around with him. Was that what prison was really all about? Making it so that you could never really escape in the end?

  Denis got to the gym about nine-thirty, deciding that if he had to jump out of a plane again, he at least wanted to look good going into the face plant. He couldn't count on Brian to save him if he did that again, that it had happened at all was... amazing.

  Not having been given a workout plan he just did what he used to do. Lift medium heavy weights slowly for a while, get on an exercise bike for about an hour, moving at a brisk, but not too difficult pace and then jog slowly until he didn't feel like it anymore. Not having a physically based power no one had ever ridden him that much about working out. Not even Montrose, and he rode just about the whole group constantly.

  Everyone had to put some time in, which apparently meant everyone for real now, as the Director himself starting to jog around the track at about the same time he did.

  “Mr. Tompkins! Good to see you here. I know things can't have really settled for you yet. How are you adjusting?” The concern sounded both real enough and like the older man was just being professionally courteous.

  How he pulled off both at once Denis just didn't know. Probably years of practice.

  “Not bad. It's... hard trying not to be a dick all the time though. People are so stupid. Some of them at least. I guess I should apologize to those Army guys or something. Still, takes one to know one there, they did kind of ask for it.”

  Moore didn't look at him, but grinned as he panted slightly. The old man's foot falls were heavy, but wearing sweats his frame looked a bit funny. It wasn't like the guy really carried a lot of fat around his middle, more of a solid block that didn't jiggle much at all and made his movements a bit stiff. Part of the guy's powers? That gun vanishing trick had worked well enough. Before that Denis hadn't know the man was Infected at all. His first mode must be really mild or at least not too annoying. The guy didn't mention it, so Denis didn't ask. Not his business after all.