Jezebel's Ladder

by Scott Rhine

  Daniel made a spinach face.

  Jez echoed something her own therapist had said, “Working out half an hour a day will help tone you up, burn calories, and prevent depression. If you don’t feel better about yourself after a month, I won’t force you to continue. See you at one o’clock tomorrow.”

  Chapter 5 – Work Smarter, Not Harder

  During the next day, Daniel complained about his aching abdominal muscles after the workout. To reciprocate, Jez let him beat her soundly at a video game. Afterward, Jez took her first training class on voluntarily entering theta state via meditation. Before dinner, both of them packed travel bags.

  Her second night was about the same as the first—pointless and boring. The surfer was away on a Hawaiian vacation, so Daniel only visited seven people: a prison minister, an encyclopedia salesman, a dentist, a gambler, a cancer surgeon, a commodity trader, and a funeral-home director. The funeral home had definite links to the Fossils, and appeared to be disposing of extra bodies. Everything went into the report. To pass the time, Jez listened to a Nora Roberts book on CD while she plotted target points on a map.

  Just before quitting time, she had almost eight hundred red dots on the paper, and several, hundred-mile-radius circles etched to group them. Daniel eventually asked, “What is that?”

  She showed him the map. “It’s just a cluster analysis of the targets remaining. Using this grouping, I can raise your average to just over fourteen dives a night.” Below the map were some calculations.

  Daniel was awed. “This is some advanced math. Dirt Bag said you didn’t get past high school.”

  “I didn’t finish my degree, but I was four years into a math major at the University of Nevada. I made the Dean’s List,” she snorted. “Let me finish this hand plot and send a memo to Dirt Bag.”

  “This is great!” he laughed. “But you’re wasting your time.”

  Jez frowned. “You don’t think he’ll change the search strategy? I thought we wanted to work smarter, not harder.”

  Daniel raised a finger. “I’m not telling you to stop. On the contrary, I’m telling you that your brain is too valuable to waste with grunt work like this. Plotting this will take you weeks. We pay other people to do this for us. Scan what you already have to Buddy, and write a one-paragraph explanation. Let him sneak it through channels; he’s good at that sort of thing. Wow, you’re smart!”

  Jez pretended to be offended. “Don’t sound so surprised. Even people from trailer parks can have brains. My mom earned a degree in engineering before she married Dad, got pregnant, and became a widow.”

  “I’m no Olive, Jez,” he said, referring to her ex-fiancé’s evil sister. “I knew you were special, but this. What were you doing in show business?”

  Jez explained, “I danced to pay for school, and Chance told me a hit magic show could make more in the first year than I could earn in five as an actuary. It was simple math; I dropped out and never looked back.”

  He finished packing his gear as they talked. “See what other improvements you can think of, but delegate the legwork. I’ll meet you on the bus at bedtime. By tonight we’ll be in Santa Fe.”

  ****

  Sounding pleased, Benny called Daniel’s cell during the five o’clock meal. “How’s it going?”

  Daniel complained, “She’s killing me with this exercise stuff. Now, she says I can eat whatever I want, but the meal has to have a vegetable that’s not fried. Who made her Mom?”

  “She wanted to substitute V8 for your Mountain Dew. The vegetables were a compromise.” Benny replied.

  “Cruel and unusual. It’s not right,” the teenager groaned.

  “Take it like a man,” Jez jeered. Around the table, the guards and driver snickered.

  “I ran this clustering idea of yours past a few people at the insurance company DB owns, and they claim it’ll work like a charm. It’s tremendous. I’m going to see to it you get a raise.”

  Daniel said, “Give Jez the raise; it was all her idea. Besides, I inherited more money from my parents than I’ll ever use.”

  There was silence for a long time. “Give the phone to Miss Johnson.”

  Daniel did so, and the others tuned out a long discussion about the benefits of different analysis models and distribution assumptions. Then Jez dropped the bombshell. “However, I decided none of that really matters. We’re so understaffed compared to the Fossils that we don’t stand a chance. They’re growing every year while we’re barely breaking even. At three attempts a year, it’s only a matter of time till they kill our leader, and we’re finished.” She proceeded to rattle off another model for his analysis team to consider.

  Carefully, the former actor changed the subject. “Have you noticed it’s easier for you to plan when there are others around?”

  Jez shrugged. “Sure, isn’t it for everyone?”

  “Not really. I want you to consider that you might be benefiting from the Collective effect.”

  Jez was hurt. “You don’t think I’m smart enough?”

  Benny stayed calm and gentle. “I never said that. I thought this was Oobie’s idea because he’s actually a low-grade genius, unfocused but capable. He speaks three languages and has almost photographic recall. This leap was big even for Oobie. You surprised a room full of geeks; but three days ago, your IQ tested at 138. Not shabby, but you see where I’m heading. Be aware that you may be borrowing from others close to you. This isn’t good or bad. I just need you to be aware of the effect.”

  Just when she thought it couldn’t get any stranger, it did.

  Benny added, “You may want to experiment. See how far the effect reaches. My guess is that it will have the same range as your ability to detect actives. I’ve been able to amplify the emotions of a crowd, but we’ve never encountered a manifestation exactly like this before. You are one of a kind, Miss Johnson. Now that we have established that we all bow before you in these matters, did you have a suggestion?”

  She left the restaurant to talk in privacy on the bus. “Forget about pages for now. We need to find people we can trust and make them work for us.”

  “I’m listening,” Benny said.

  Jez made her pitch. “A police profiler, Calvin Robins, showed up on both your lists. Even if he turns up negative, he’ll be an invaluable asset. He’s in Phoenix. We can reach him by tomorrow.”

  Benny sighed. “I don’t know why we didn’t catch that before now. I’ll clear the operation with the big guy. Scouting is authorized, but no contact till I arrive.”

  “Thank you,” Jez said.

  The whole group celebrated their new venture that night with baklava for dessert and a Guitar Hero tournament.

  Chapter 6 – Recruiting

  By noon the next day, they were in a Phoenix hotel. Daniel was excited as he did push-ups in the exercise room. “This place has a hot tub. After we finish our workout, I am so there. With your help, I have much more free time.”

  Jez was in workout pants, bent in a Downward Facing Dog. “About that: last night I started to load some apps for report writing onto your phone, but there was no room left.”

  Daniel froze in place. “I can explain.”

  “I’ve never seen that many porn video files before. Dirt Bag hasn’t been a good role model. I guess it’s good news that all your plumbing still works.”

  “I do still have one testicle.”

  More softly, Jez said, “I’m no moral paragon, but you need to clean this stuff off for security reasons. Downloading from untrustworthy sites can endanger the whole Project.”

  Daniel nodded, resigned.

  “Besides, you really should be finding girls your own age to talk to.”

  “That doesn’t happen a lot to boys in wheelchairs,” he replied glumly.

  “You could be purple with three eyes, and someone out there would think you’re the cat’s meow,” Jez insisted. “When’s the last time you went on a vacation?”

  “Never.”

  Jez raised her eyebr
ows. “Then you’re due. We should go to Hawaii to follow that surfer. You could check out the bikinis on the beach.”

  “You know, talking to you is like talking to a guy.”

  Jez laughed. “Thanks, I think.”

  Benny walked in, getting a good view of Jezebel’s posterior. He was momentarily speechless.

  Daniel sat up. “The boss is here, we’ve got to quit.”

  Jez barked, “Ten more minutes, soda boy or I cut you down to three cans a night. Give me lip and you’ll do more ab crunches.”

  Daniel resumed his exercises.

  Clearly uncomfortable, Benny said, “Calvin Robins looks better the more we investigate. The search teams want to know what flagged him. Your… criteria might help refine future searches.”

  As she stretched slowly through her cool-down routine, Jez said, “He used to be a police officer who ran regularly, longer when he was thinking about a case, and studied martial arts—pretty normal. Then he talked some jumper down from a ledge, and everything changed. The quotes from his incident report sounded like someone from Ward Seven. After that, Robins got motivated, earned a degree in psych, and took the detective exam. It was a classic awakening. The jumper had to be a Ticket holder, the vector for activation.”

  When Benny seemed confused, Daniel explained, “She calls the pages Wonka’s Golden Tickets.”

  The former actor laughed. “I’ll have to use that one. We know Robins can pick a serial killer out of lineup with an amazing batting average, but that wasn’t in the report I sent Oobie. What made you sure?”

  Jez toweled her neck off and slugged down water. “He’s paranoid, even around other cops. He has headaches, outbursts of rage, and bouts with alcoholism. The case he got sanctioned for was a killer he met on the street. Robins had no search warrant, but found five bodies in the guy’s basement.”

  Daniel finished his repetitions. “He’s probably an active, but you were an alcoholic before you had a Ticket.”

  Jez changed the subject. “I’m so sure he’s got a page that we’re going to pick his code name.”

  “Batman!” Daniel burst out. “You know, bats mean crazy, and his last name is Robins.”

  Jez blew a raspberry. “I don’t do comics.”

  Benny shook his head. “It’s too trademarked and noticeable. How about Crusader?”

  Daniel grunted as he climbed back into his chair. “That’ll do. I sniffed around his house last night. He has four locks on the door and keeps a spare gun in every room. His basement looks like a bomb shelter. I don’t think that guy ever goes out.”

  “I approached Detective Robins in his office this morning, and he wouldn’t talk to me,” Benny said. “He’s very antisocial. I’ve brought the complete and updated file with me. Let’s head to Daniel’s room. It’s more secure there. We need to find a way to approach this man to recruit him.”

  As Jez passed by him, the former actor tightened his voice. “You can shower first, though.”

  Jez smiled as she took note of the actor’s tightened trousers. His plumbing appeared to work, too.

  ****

  After cleaning up and putting on business clothes, Jez arrived in Daniel’s room. They all read the file, passing around sections of it, and posting key facts on the whiteboard.

  “Every week, he goes out on one date, always selected from the same on-line service,” Jez announced. “Oobie, could you and your friends insert and backdate a dating profile for me?”

  Immediately, Benny stepped in. “That’s too dangerous. You aren’t field trained. You haven’t even completed your theta training.”

  “We could do the hack,” Daniel bragged. “But we can’t force him to pick you.”

  Jez gave a chuckle. “I know his type. Crusader is twenty-eight; make my cover twenty-five. Guys always want younger women. Make her a diamond in the rough. I won’t wash my hair for a few days. Get a photo of me with thick glasses, and my hair up, but with killer coy eyes and a smile. Say I’m an actuary who does her own taxes. I’ll bone up on boring, insurance-research, data models. Add some common interests: bridge, pool, and track. Give me a track scholarship for a math degree. Admit I have a swimmer’s butt. Hint that I need someone to help me train for a triathlon. Gush over him in the mail.”

  She paced as she plotted. “He’ll need an opportunity for debate and conversion. He is a collector of foreign beers. Have me be a wine connoisseur. Now we add the aroma of repressed sexuality. Make my name Layla. Say I have insomnia. Under religion, put reformed Catholic.”

  Daniel warmed to the game. “What we have to watch out for is making it too obvious. Why would Layla want him? Say she’s an only child. Her father was a psychologist who was never home. Give her interesting, unresolved, daddy issues.”

  In her best, throaty, Mae West voice, Jez said, “I always wanted to meet a man who’s an expert in liquor and poker. Pick pool as the first date so he can ogle me while I pump him for information. My outfit should be dull, conservative, long-lasting and concealing, showing just enough leg to keep him on the line. Maybe I’ll wear a London Fog coat to hide the goods until we introduce ourselves. The shoes will be the most important lure—peek-a-boos. Then pull out the big guns.”

  Benny gasped, “My God, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Jez patted him on the leg. “None of you do, sweetie.”

  They debated for a while. Benny finally yielded under the provision that she finish her mental conditioning and wear a wire so the strike team could listen in. It would take at least three days to gather everything.

  In the end, Daniel had one more condition. “To get him on board, we need to give him something as a gesture of good faith.”

  Benny sighed. “What did you have in mind?”

  “A page for a page,” Daniel suggested. “We let him read one that would help him, and that also starts him at a higher rank in the project.”

  Benny locked eyes with him. “You’re talking about Pattern Simplification.”

  “It would be perfect to smooth out a lot of the contradictions with whatever worldview he has now,” Daniel argued. “Plus, when he passes out, we bag him and drag him to headquarters.”

  Benny nodded. “We’ll have to bring Dirt Bag in on this mission. Daniel, you have work to do. I’ll take charge of Miss Johnson’s training for the next few days.”

  ****

  When Jez walked into the bar to meet the target, she could immediately tell two things: Robins was definitely active and seriously desperate. She stopped on her way to meet him to drop a few coins in the jukebox. The woman sitting nearby said that new requests were taking about thirty minutes to play. Over the wire, Jez said, “Be ready to move to his place when you hear Clapton. That will be the exit cue.”

  Everything about the operation went flawlessly. Crusader was hooked. After pool, the screaming guitar of the song “Layla” came up. She danced alone to her namesake, garnering several stares. Leaning close to Robins, she purred, “That was sweet of you to play for me, but I like the slow version much better.”

  Robins paid the check and they were out of the bar in less than three minutes, heading for his place.

  As the profiler drove them in his brown sedan, Jez slipped up. In a conversation, she glibly said, “Observing changes the experiment’s outcome. The critical flaw in the Schrödinger’s cat metaphor is that the cat observes itself.”

  Robins’s detective instincts kicked in. He pulled over and stopped the car. “Who the hell are you, really, Layla?”

  Jez tried to blonde her way out of this particular traffic ticket, but he wasn’t buying. Finally, she shifted her perky exterior into a serious face, and went with honesty. “Sorry, I can’t help it. You’re really smart, and that makes me smarter. It’s kind of intoxicating.”

  Robins narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

  “I’m going to tell you a story. Stop me when I get something wrong.” She then proceeded to give him the team’s version of his own recent history. Jez finished with, �
��We can help. We’d like you to join us.”

  Robins snorted. “And you’d be the incentive?”

  Jez shook her head. “We don’t work that way. We just needed to find a voice you would listen to. Even if you decide not to join, we can trade your page for access to one that reduces your side-effects. It’s called Pattern Simplification. Our boss used it to get rich in the stock market. Now he wants to use it to help people.”

  “My gift is anomaly spotting,” Robins admitted. “Borges, that guy whose rights I violated, pulled the wings off flies in fourth grade. In fifth grade, several dogs disappeared in his neighborhood. In eighth grade, Borges went hunting with an uncle and accidentally killed him. In tenth grade, one of his classmates was stabbed and stuffed in a gym locker. It’s all circumstantial, I know. After Borges dropped out of school, he worked as a janitor so he could have his nights free to learn his new trade.”

  When she didn’t react, the profiler bit his lip and continued. “I can see what others are like in their dreams just by looking. Most dreams are feeble and boring, tight loops repeating the same things. These people are worse than ghosts, stuck in a drab pursuit: fear or desire. When someone is following another set of rules, they stand out like a monarch in a fast-food line. Correction, they become a hungry lion in a kindergarten classroom.”

  He put his head on the steering wheel. “I don’t want to see these things; you wouldn’t either.”

  She tried to sound sympathetic. “Calvin, you have to admit that drinking is not a good idea in these circumstances. You can still see them, but drunk you might accidentally tell them what you see. These are not people you want noticing your talent.”

  “Being alone is the best way to cope,” Robins said.

  “But that can drive a man insane,” Jez countered. “Wouldn’t you like to talk to people who see the things that you see?”

  Softly, he admitted, “Yes, I would.” He resumed the drive to his house.