# chapters

path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122221121211111111111111111111111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Mystery of the Wandering Wizard (24)
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><div align="center">Chapter Twenty-Four<br/>
The Cheat at the Back of the Book</div><br/>
"Did you know all this was going to happen?" Joe demanded. "Because we—me and Frank and Father Ed—we kept getting these messages from you through this weird guy. Who was he, anyway?"<br/>
<br/>
"Someone you haven't met yet," their father said, and couldn't contain his grin any further. "But I'll confess, even though no magician likes to give away his tricks. I have been getting the answers from the back of the book."<br/>
<br/>
The boys' jaws dropped. Frank just looked astounded, but Joe looked angry. "You mean you were cheating?" he exclaimed. "How long have you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Since you boys went to the birthday party. While you were there I went to the archives to study the painting some more, and I found—Well, I can't tell you his name, but you know who I'm talking about. He was standing in front of the painting and acting like he was fit to bust for wanting to speak to me. Well, he couldn't speak to me until I spoke to him first. He knows the rules. But I did speak to him, and he told me everything."<br/>
<br/>
"What everything?"<br/>
<br/>
"Everything everything! What had happened, what was happening, what was going to happen."<br/>
<br/>
"Everything?" Joe repeated, sounding aghast.<br/>
<br/>
"How many times does he have to say it, Joe," Frank said. Then he looked at his father. "Everything?" he said. "Up to what point?"<br/>
<br/>
"Up until this afternoon. Oh, will you get the door, Frank? It'll be Father Ed."<br/>
<br/>
Frank looked puzzled. Then the doorbell rang, and he jumped. His father laughed at his discomfiture.<br/>
<br/>
"So you knew all this before," Joe said, and he looked like he'd bitten down hard on a juicy lemon. "You already knew everything we told you!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," his dad said. "But you had fun telling it, and I enjoyed hearing it from you."<br/>
<br/>
"But how did that guy know all this stuff? He wasn't around when it was happening." Then Joe's eyes widened. "Oh, right. He knew it because he's from the future!"<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly so. He's from the future, and he heard it all from my future self, who told it to him and then gave him orders to lurk around the archives until he could tell it all to the present me."<br/>
<br/>
Joe thought about this a moment. "So, you know all this because you got a message from your future self. And your future self knew it because—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I knew it. I'm not going to forget this. I know it, and because I know it, my future self will know it."<br/>
<br/>
"But you only know because your future self knows it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes."<br/>
<br/>
"And he only knows because you know it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course."<br/>
<br/>
"But that's just a big circle!"<br/>
<br/>
His dad laughed. "Yes, but sometimes those circles happen. That's why people aren't supposed to talk to past or future people in the archives. It makes these circles, and then people get headaches."<br/>
<br/>
"It still seems like cheating!"<br/>
<br/>
"Not at all," his father said, and permitted himself to look a little indignant. "Like I say, I was just getting the answers from the back of the book."<br/>
<br/>
Frank came back in the room. "Father Ed says—"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up, Frank. Dad will tell you what he said. Right?" Joe couldn't keep a sarcastic tone from his voice.<br/>
<br/>
"If you want me to. He said that they hung the painting up in a cell inside the archives, and that Mr. Shadwell eventually got tired of pacing up and down and agreed to come out. Is that it?"<br/>
<br/>
Frank's jaw dropped again. "How did—?"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't want to know, Frank," said Joe. "If it doesn't make any sense to me, it won't make any sense to you."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be so grumpy, son. Solving this mystery was just another complicated little ritual, like opening the archives. Only this one looped through time, so that some of the complicated moves happened out of order. Anyway, Father Ed's news about Mr. Shadwell is very good. Before I tell you why, though, don't you boys have a bet you have to settle?"<br/>
<br/>
"What bet? Oh!" Joe exclaimed. "That's right!" He turned with a grin toward Frank. "You owe me money!" he gloated. "I told you there was only one guy in the car that tried to run me over."<br/>
<br/>
"There were two of them, Joe! Shadwell and von Gerssdorff!"<br/>
<br/>
"One guy! Von Gerssdorff was just an image!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's good enough for what was meant! So you owe me money!"<br/>
<br/>
"Boys!" their father said. He closed his eyes and put a fingertip to his forehead. "I believe the bet was 'everything Frank had saved up for the weight set against everything Joe had saved up for the telescope'."<br/>
<br/>
Frank continued to look astonished. "We didn't tell you the terms!"<br/>
<br/>
"How much do you have saved up for the weight set, son?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, nothing. I had to spend my last few dollars while you were gone."<br/>
<br/>
"Joe?"<br/>
<br/>
"Same here."<br/>
<br/>
"Very well. It is my judgment that you each won the bet. So Frank, you give Joe nothing. Joe, you give Frank nothing. Now shake on it. Is the bet discharged? Good."<br/>
<br/>
"This seems pointless," Joe said after letting go of his brother's hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Not at all," said their father. "Rick called me this morning to say the San Diego Institute is offering a reward for the return of that forgery. With Shadwell now out of it, we can give it to Rick, and as a private investigator he can return it for the prize money."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Well, that's great for Rick, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"But you should share in the reward too, since you did so well on this case." He took out his wallet, and gave each of them two hundred-dollar bills. "Here is an advance on what you'll be receiving. The rest will be going into your savings accounts."<br/>
<br/>
Joe let out a long and loud "Woo-hoo" and danced around the room, and even Frank smiled. "Thanks Dad!" shouted Joe. "Now I can get that telescope. I can get an even bigger telescope! And Frank, you can—" He stopped. "Why are you looking like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like what?"<br/>
<br/>
Joe peered closely at him. "Like you're not sure you want to get that weight set."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't?" Frank's expression was one of confusion. "Because I'm pretty sure I do want to get it! "<br/>
<br/>
"No, you look like you're not at all sure," said Joe, and he sounded like a doctor who was worried that a very sick patient was taking a turn for the worse. "You don't look at all like you want to get that weight set." He took Frank by the arm and tugged him down the hallway to the bedroom. "You know what you look like? You look like a guy who wants me to go in on it with you, because it could be for both of us, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, sure."<br/>
<br/>
"And you're also looking like—"<br/>
<br/>
Joe closed the door on them so his father couldn't hear. But their dad heard Joe's voice, though a little muffled, just the same.<br/>
<br/>
"You're looking like a guy who wants to take the money you'll save on the weights and spend it on some books, which you will buy and hand-deliver one at a time to Kimberley Reynolds, so that you can spend at least two hours a week talking to her while she's recuperating from her accident.<br/>
<br/>
"Now look in the mirror and tell me that isn't exactly what it looks like you want."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You close the word-processing file with a thoughtful frown. In writing "The Mystery of the Wandering Wizard" Joe had simplified the "science" quite a bit. The proper word for image—the physical body of a person or thing—is <i>imago.</i> The proper word for the essence of a thing is <i>essentia.</i> The proper word for the soul of a person—and it's not even really the "soul"—is <i>anima.</i> And there's a fourth element into which these three things are poured in order to make a thing real: <i>substantia.</i><br/>
<br/>
You trace a finger over the table, trying to contain your excitement, your curiosity, your need to get your hands dirty. It's hard, because it isn't only your excitement you feel, but Joe's as well.<br/>
<br/>
It's interesting that Joe should have once written a story that features these elements, and that even included something like a body swap—admittedly a body swap involving two dogs—given the case that brought him and Frank to Saratoga Falls on their first real investigation for the <i>Stellae.</i> Your lips twitch slightly as you open up the briefing file he and Frank were given. You know what it contains, but review it in case you'd forgotten something, or something suggestive leaps out at you.<br/>
<br/>
The <i>Summa Libra Personae.</i> Composed in the sixteenth century by Hieronymus von Gerssdorff and lost under mysterious circumstances. Von Gerssdorff wasn't just an alchemist. He was a <i>Stellae</i> who went rogue—"retrograde," they call it. He vanished one day, and no trace of him was ever found, but he exists still in the lore of the <i>Stellae</i> as a kind of super-boogeyman. That's one reason they are so eager to recover the <i>Libra,</i> for although they don't know exactly what it contains, they are sure it must contain some of his most potent and dangerous discoveries and techniques.<br/>
<br/>
Such as techniques for cutting people into pieces? So far it appears—based on the spells that Steve has uncovered—that the <i>Libra</i> only shows how to copy <i>imago.</i> But it's a thick book. It could easily contain a lot more, and a lot more dangerous stuff.<br/>
<br/>
A shiver runs through you at the thought of Steve Patterson learning and using that kind of stuff.<br/>
<br/>
You could stop him and Gordon. You <i>should</i> stop them. Frank and Joe are big, strong guys even without their prodigies. You just need to make yourself one or two more slaves: guys from the Eastman basketball, football or wrestling squads. Then you could tackle Steve and Gordon—separately, it would be even easier to take them down—and hide them under masks of themselves. Then, with the <i>Libra</i> in your possession and Joe's brain under your control, you could —<br/>
<br/>
What?</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222211212111111111111111111111112
author_id: seuzz
title: An Old Story Leads to a New Plan
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Briefly you toy with the idea of releasing Frank and Joe and enlisting their help in stopping Steve and Gordon. But it's only a fleeting notion. You had the chance to do that several days ago, when you learned who Joe was and before you enslaved Frank. It might not be too late to make amends with them, but it would be at the very least extremely awkward.<br/>
<br/>
More than that, you are attracted by the idea of making the <i>Summa Libra Personae</i> your own. In reading Joe's old juvenile detective story "The Mystery of the Wandering Wizard" you have begun to more vividly appreciate the possibilities of mastering the <i>Libra,</i> and you would have Joe's well-trained and -educated brain to guide you. Of course, you would have to stay out of the way of the <i>Stellae,</i> but with the <i>Libra</i> and a supply of masks, that seems doable.<br/>
<br/>
Tomorrow you can begin to figure out how to do it. Right now, though, it's late. In your excitement it takes you awhile to fall asleep, but when it comes it is deep.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Hey boss, you get my message?"<br/>
<br/>
"Loud and clear," Frank says. You're lunchtime, and you're outside in one of the athletic fields, sitting on his chest.<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't talking to you," you retort, and put the cell phone back to your ear.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson's voice buzzes. "Yeah, but why do I wanna go to a party at <i>your</i> place?"<br/>
<br/>
"For the girls! Don't tell me you're so worn out you can't get it up for the babes of Eastman! And me and Frank throw great parties! Don't we, Frank?"<br/>
<br/>
There's a pause. "I'm getting plenty of action out here," Patterson says.<br/>
<br/>
"But don't you want to see what kind of tail we've got out here? That is your long-range plan, right, to start collecting masks of Eastman girls to go with the collection at Westside? Don't you want to come check out the catalog?"<br/>
<br/>
There's another long pause. You look up and smile into the strong sunlight that's warming your bare shoulders. "Can't you just send me pictures?" Patterson asks.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck? Are you secretly gay or something? <i>Pictures?</i> Don't you want to see them in glorious 3D? Smell them, brush yourself up against them, taste them? Because it's gonna be the kind of party where you can do that. Shit, it's gonna be the kind of party where you're guaranteed to get a fuck from at least one of them, long as you don't let her get a good look at your personality. 'Cos our dad's out of town for two nights and we got the house to ourselves. Just me and Frank and so much pulsing, slobbering pussy we might choke ourselves on it!"<br/>
<br/>
The third pause is even longer than the earlier two. "What time?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's the right question! Seven o'clock, so guys who can't keep it up until three can get still get some action in. Oh hey, before I forget, where'd you hide the real Joe Durras?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why do you need to know?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't need to know anything, but I think you had him under a girl's mask for a while, and I'd rather not accidentally kiss him."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to worry about <i>that</i>, Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, so he's not under a girl at all. That's a relief. Wait, hang on. Now that I think about it, the last place I actually saw Dumbass Durras, he was under a mask of <i>you.</i> Am I talking to the real Steve Patterson?"<br/>
<br/>
"For all intents and purposes—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want 'all intents and purposes,' I want to know—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, it's me."<br/>
<br/>
"Bullshit. Because the last time I saw Steve Patterson he was actually wearing a Will Prescott mask." You put a leer in your voice. "Is Patterson using my old face to get laid with girls who give him the brush off?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's me," Patterson says in a very cold voice. "For what it's worth, I put Durras under your mask, where he's probably a nightly disappointment to his jerk-off sock."<br/>
<br/>
You hoot. "Nice! And as long as you're coming over tonight, bring a couple of more masks if you've got them. That way Black can also check out the possibilities."<br/>
<br/>
Patterson just grunts and hangs up. "All set," you tell Frank as you slip the cell back into your pocket.<br/>
<br/>
"Good. Can you get off me now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Say please." You are kneeling on him with your knees on his shoulders, and you buzz his nose with your fingertip.<br/>
<br/>
"The lunch bell rang while you were talking. We're late."<br/>
<br/>
"Sucks to be you, then. Doesn't matter to me, I'm already flunking. Just tell me you understand what happens tonight at seven."<br/>
<br/>
"I understand what happens tonight at seven."<br/>
<br/>
"Then tell me the plan, Frank." You buzz the tip of his nose again. "Explain to me how we're going to fuck over Steve Patterson."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You can't believe that Patterson actually trusted you with the <i>Libra.</i> He probably thought it was a safe move, since you had only mastered the making of masks and mind-bands and golems before losing it to him, and the arrogant dipshit almost certainly doesn't think you capable of interpreting the rest of the book. It's pretty obvious he doesn't realize you figured out the spell that puts a golem shell inside a mask, and he naturally doesn't realize that you've already turned Frank into a golem.<br/>
<br/>
So how could he possibly guess that he's walking into a trap?<br/>
<br/>
"So where's all this pussy you were bragging about?" he asks as soon as you've opened the door for him.<br/>
<br/>
"On its way," you reply as you usher him in. "I sent Frank out to get some more, uh, refreshments, and asked you over about thirty minutes early so we could look over the lay of the land. So to speak."<br/>
<br/>
Even as Joe Durras you're almost a full head shorter than Patterson, and you have to crane your neck a little to look up at him. "What do you mean by 'the lay of the land'?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"It's a fucking pun, moron. 'Lay of the land' as in 'the smoking hot ass you're going to be porking' and 'lay of the land' as in 'the plan of attack'. Lemme show you the bedrooms."<br/>
<br/>
He follows you down the short hallway to Joe's room. "This is mine. Well, Joe's. He gets most of the action and I figure this is where most of the action should take place. Being a good host, I'll give you first chance, but I ain't gonna wait forever, so if you don't have your cock inside someone by nine-thirty, I'll be claiming it."<br/>
<br/>
"Nnh," says Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that all you have to say?" You leap onto his back, wrapping arms and legs around his torso; he stumbles a little. "Isn't this the most exciting thing ever?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe it's exciting for you, Prescott. It's pretty goddamn familiar to me. You can get off now."<br/>
<br/>
But while he was speaking, Frank had come up behind, and with a savage kick to Patterson's ass and to the back of his knees he sends him tumbling onto the bed with you atop him.<br/>
<br/>
You snap your fingers at Frank, and from the top dresser he takes the last blank mask that Patterson had given you. Steve lifts his face—a fatal move, for you gently press the mask onto him. He loses consciousness and slumps.<br/>
<br/>
You slide off your victim and sit on the bed next to him. Frank hands you the plastic container of golem goop you'd made after school. "Is this really the way we want to do things?" Frank asks.<br/>
<br/>
"He's working the other side. I explained that to you. But once he's on our side, we'll have a better idea of what's going on. He can also steal their supplies so that they can't use them but we can. Can't you, Steve?" you jeer lightly at the fallen ballplayer, and stroke the side of his face.<br/>
<br/>
Five minutes pass, then ten. The mask reappears on Patterson's face, and you paint its insides with golem goop. You lay it on him.<br/>
<br/>
And just like that, your nemesis is now your slave. He opens his eyes and looks at you coldly. "Who's the boss now, asshole?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
His lips whiten as he answers. "You are."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. You're such a fucking moron, you thought you could just keep bullying me." You cock your head. "Do you have any tricks up your sleeve? Any fail-safes or insurance policies? What were you going to do if we tried fighting back?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kick your asses."<br/>
<br/>
 "Huh. And you thought that would be enough. Did you have any other secrets or surprises for us? For me in particular?"<br/>
<br/>
It's like the word was being pulled from deep within his body: "Yes."<br/>
<br/>
"Really? What were they?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who are <i>you</i>, exactly?"<br/>
<br/>
"You know me, Patterson. Will Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
His lips twist. "I thought so. I've got copies of some of the people in your family."<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach drops. Hard. "Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Your dad and a piece of Japanese tail."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Your dad? And Umeko?</i> For an instant you're tempted to tear the mask off Patterson and maul the face of the real guy underneath.<br/>
<br/>
Actually, the temptation lasts for more than instant. It takes you the better part of a minute to get your temper under control. "You didn't use them, did you?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"Good." You take several deep breaths. <br/>
<br/>
It sounds like a case of "no harm, though foul," but there's still that fake "Will Prescott" out there. You're not quite sure whose control that golem is under. Maybe you'd better make sure it's under your own.</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122221122
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You lay the book aside with a snort. You'd forgotten how cheesy the series was. Even Joe could recognize the hackery of the plot and prose at an early age; but they were fun, and he and Giuseppe loved using them as frameworks for their own pretended adventures. Even the man they called "Dad" would play along, hiding "treasures" (such as the "magical table fork of Kublai Khan") and setting them on elaborate scavenger hunts.<br/>
<br/>
But why bring a nostalgic book like this along on a real-life--?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh yeah. Now you remember</i>.<br/>
<br/>
You flip to the end cover, where a plain white envelope has been securely fastened between the cover and the very last page. The elaborate sigil was drawn by Kali Valentine's graceful hand. It is nothing "magical", just a message more or less meaning <i>Open only in case of emergency</i>. The character of the emergency in question is described in the sigil: a conjunction of Arbol, Perelandra, Lurga, and Catilindria under a comet, that flaming symbol of nemesis and chance. At least once a week Joe sketches a horoscope looking for the signs. They have never appeared.<br/>
<br/>
But there's no reason <i>you</i> can't read it, is there? You tear it out and tear it open.<br/>
<br/>
From it you draw a sheaf of papers. Not even parchment, just ordinary office paper that's been run through a laser printer. You read:<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
Kali stirred from her slumber as the early morning light worked its way into her bedroom.  It crept past the blinds and marched slowly up her bed as the sun rose in the sky.  The room was still cool as she slipped out of the bed, wrapping the sheets around her torso.  That would change soon as the stifling summer heat built up.<br/>
<br/>
Although she had lived in LA for years, Kali had never quite gotten used to the hot muggy summers.  She slept naked and with the windows open and the faint sounds of the rush hour traffic could just about be heard in the distance.  She shuffled over to the large mirrored doors of her closest and regarded herself critically in the half light of the room.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Another grey hair</i>, she thought, picking at it with a free hand. <i> It knows the truth even if the rest of me doesn’t</i>.  Kali lifted her chin up and turned her head slightly to the side.  The delicate face remained much the same as it had for the last twenty years or so:  The same rich coppery colouring, the same prominent cheekbones.  Not bad for a forty-something, and especially not bad given she was closer to sixty.  Kali still remembered the wee bespectacled girl that had stared into the mirror in a Paisley terrace a lifetime and half the globe away.<br/>
<br/>
All she had to worry about then was the odd insensitive jibe about the colour of her skin from a few particularly idiotic ten year old boys.  <i>Life is more complicated these days</i> she thought as she let the sheets slip to the floor and reached for her robe.  Kali felt a momentary pang of sympathy for her long dead mother as she walked out the bedroom and into the main room of the loft apartment she lived in.<br/>
<br/>
The girl, Kali couldn’t help but think of her as a girl even though she was in her nineteenth year, was up already, dressed in a simple pair of denim shorts and a frayed pink tee.  Her dark brunette hair, already lightening in the California sun, was tied in a simple ponytail and she sucked on a glass of fruit juice through a straw.<br/>
<br/>
“Good morning Kali,” she said, the valley girl intonations in her speech obvious.  Charles had told Kali to expect as much, of course, but the speed with which the girl had shed her native accent over the last couple of weeks still amazed her.  Kali herself still spoke with a trace of her native accent although she managed to avoid some of the more indecipherable parts of her mother tongue unless her concentration lapsed.<br/>
<br/>
“Morning Hélène,” replied Kali.<br/>
<br/>
“What are we doing today,” asked Hélène cheerfully as she placed her glass of juice on the worktop that marked the edge of the kitchen and the beginning of the lounge.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m going to have my breakfast,” explained Kali grumpily.  Even the most generous soul was allowed to be a little prickly before their first cup of coffee.  She skirted past Hélène and poured out a cup from the jug in one corner.  “Maybe have a shower and check my email,” said Kali as she perched on one of the stools at the worktop<br/>
<br/>
“Great,” interrupted Hélène.  She practically skipped away from the worktop  and pulled a pair of laptops out from the shelf under the coffee table in the middle of the loft.  Hélène set the larger of the two, a sleek black number, in front Kali.<br/>
<br/>
“Aye, thanks.” Said Kali as she took a sip from her coffee.  The sarcasm was lost on Hélène.  Instead the girl sat down next Kali and flipped open her little pink netbook and booted it up.<br/>
<br/>
Kali took another sip of her coffee and turned her own machine on.  It took a little while for wake up fully now, another sign that old age was finally creeping up on her.  With the third sip, Kali’s brain finally started to move into gear.  <br/>
<br/>
She glanced at Hélène’s netbook.  The girl was typing out a message to her family, entirely in French.  It was harmless enough, Kali supposed.  Hélène would have to break contact with her family, her old family, sooner or later – Just as Kali had done the same with her family, such as it was, all those years ago.  Charles had doubtless told the girl as much when he found her in whatever Parisian suburb she had lived in.  Letting her email her parents was simply a polite fiction to ease the girl’s transition into her new life.<br/>
<br/>
Kali’s laptop chimed as it finished loading Windows.  She took one last sip of her coffee and started her email program.  There was a password, of course, and Kali tapped it in quickly while Hélène was engrossed with her own mails.<br/>
<br/>
There was one new mail waiting for her.<br/>
<br/>
Kali took one look at the subject line and dropped her coffee.  The cup rolled across the worktop, spilling what little was left across the surface.  It reached the edge and fell to the floor where it shattered into pieces.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222211221
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion - Part 2
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>“What does retrograde mean,” asked Hélène as she leaned over to look at the screen.  Even if she sounded like a native now, English was still Hélène’s second language.  There were more than a few words she did not know or understand.  That she did not know this one hardly surprised Kali.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s a word astronomers use child,” said Kali softly, easing into the diction she had used to instruct Hélène over the last few weeks.  “It means going backwards or in the opposite direction.”<br/>
<br/>
“Astronomers,” replied Hélène.  “So, like, stars and planets?  Is this Lucio Strigiotti one of us then?”<br/>
<br/>
“He is one of the <i>Stellae Errante</i> – a field agent Hélène,” said Kali patiently.  “And it’s an important message.  One that I’ll have to deal with urgently.”<br/>
<br/>
“Cool,” replied Hélène.  “It’s not, like, anything bad is it?  I mean you looked shocked when you dropped your cup,” the girl said breathlessly.  Her enthusiasm for anything related to the <i>Stellae</i> had been boundless since she had arrived in Kali’s home, even if her attention to basic theory had been somewhat lacking.  “Oooh, what are his planets?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali sighed.  It would be better to sate the girl’s curiosity now rather than have it distract her all morning.  “Lucio’s <i>ousiarch</i>s are Catilindria and Eldibria.  Do you remember what that means?”<br/>
<br/>
Hélène looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully and bit her lip as she tried to recall her lessons.  “Catilindria is our name for Uranus,” she said slowly, as if unsure of her answer.  Kali permitted herself a tight smile and nodded at the girl.  “Eldibria is Neptune,” Hélène continued with a more confident grin.<br/>
<br/>
“And what does that tell you about him,” prompted Kali.<br/>
<br/>
“Neptune is the sea,” said Hélène, half phrasing it as a question.  “So I guess he has power over water.”<br/>
<br/>
“Some Eldibriae do child, but Lucio is more linked to the qualities of the sea.  Think of how a calm sea can turn quickly to a treacherous storm.  Many secrets are hidden in his depths and he guards them jealously.”  Hélène nodded as Kali talked.  “He is relentless:  Imagine the sea as it slowly breaks down a cliff, lapping away it with every tide.  It is slow but the outcome is never in doubt.”  Kali paused for a second.  “And his other influence?”<br/>
<br/>
“I…” Hélène stuttered.  “I don’t know.”<br/>
<br/>
“You have your computer in front of you Hélène,” said Kali a little more forcefully. “Make use of it.”  Hélène’s mouth made an O shape as she realised the answer was in front of her.  Kali waited patiently as the girl conducted her search.<br/>
<br/>
A little fit of giggles told Kali that Hélène had found what she was looking for.  The trainees always found something funny in the Uranus myth.  “It says here,” said Hélène with a smirk.  “That his son cut off his, you know.”  Hélène made a particularly expressive gesture.  “And they fell into the sea and that is how Venus was born.”<br/>
<br/>
“Exactly,” said Kali.  She kept her face carefully serious.  “Creation from destruction.  The new challenging the old.  Renewal.  Lucio has challenged many warlocks, witches and other practitioners and freed innocents from their grasp.<br/>
<br/>
“He is good at it,” asked the girl.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, exceptionally so.  The combination of Catilindria and Eldibria make Lucio and excellent field agent,” said Kali.  In the privacy of her own head she added <i>but an appalling human being</i>.<br/>
<br/>
“Will I make a good field agent,” asked Hélène enthusiastically.<br/>
<br/>
“That depends entirely on your ability to remember your lessons child,” chided Kali with a smile.  Hélène giggled again.  “Now, as I said, I have to deal with this message.  Privately.”  Hélène frowned.  “Take yourself for a walk for fifteen minutes and we’ll continue your lessons after you return.”<br/>
<br/>
Hélène looked disappointed.  She grabbed her glass and drained the last of the juice with a noisy sucking sound.  “See you soon,” she said as she placed the glass by the dishwasher.<br/>
<br/>
Kali watched the girl go.  She waited for a full minute after Hélène had closed the door behind her before allowing the worry to show on her face.  Then she hauled herself up from the stool and carefully picked up the smashed pieces of the cup from the floor.<br/>
<br/>
Kali looked across the loft to where the phone sat on a small table.<br/>
<br/>
She knew she would have to call Charles.  She knew what Lucio’s message meant but at the same time she wished she hadn’t received it.  Instead she placed the fragments of crockery in the bin.  Then she selected a cloth and carefully mopped up the spilt coffee from the worktop.<br/>
<br/>
The phone still lurked at the opposite side of the loft.<br/>
<br/>
There was no make-work left to do, no way of avoiding the call.  In any case Kali would have to phone Charles before Hélène returned.  She walked to the table where the phone lay and picked up the handset.  Kali dialled the number from memory as she walked back to the kitchen area.<br/>
<br/>
“Hello,” said a man’s voice on the other end of the phone after a couple of rings.<br/>
<br/>
“Hello Charles,” said Kali into the handset.  “It’s Kali.”<br/>
<br/>
“Kali,” exclaimed Charles.  “It’s so good to hear from you.”  His voice was warm and confident.  “And how is young Hélène progressing.”<br/>
<br/>
“About as well as I’d expect,” replied Kali neutrally.  “She is still troubled with the basics but keeps trying to make more advanced techniques work.”  Kali paused for a moment and sighed.  “I just wish you’d found her a few years earlier Charles,” she said more honestly.  “She’s practically an adult, but she’s just not ready.  Not for the things she’s going to have to deal with.”<br/>
<br/>
“Then she will have to learn quickly,” said Charles, his voice heavy with sadness.  “We were lucky to find her at all Kali.  People like her are good at hiding themselves, even when they don’t mean to.”  Kali heard him sigh audibly.  “The world seems so much bigger than it was forty, fifty years ago.  There are so many people to watch and so few of us.  You know I wouldn’t have sent Hélène to you if I didn’t think you would bring out the best in her.”<br/>
<br/>
“I know,” said Kali flatly.<br/>
<br/>
“But you didn’t call me because you wanted to talk about the girl now, did you?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali’s stomach fluttered a little.  “No,” she eventually replied.  “I received a mail from Lucio.  One word in the subject line:  Retrograde.”<br/>
<br/>
“He needs help then,” interrupted Charles.  “And he sent it to you because he needs help from you.  He included some way of getting in contact I assume?”<br/>
<br/>
“Just a string of numbers,” replied Kali.  “Co-ordinates.  Let me just check on my computer.”  Kali sat back at the worktop and opened her browser.  It took her less than a minute to find the location Lucio had sent her.  “Seattle, I think,” she explained.<br/>
<br/>
“That would fit with his last report,” concurred Charles.  “I’m relying on you to give him the help he needs Kali.  I know there’s no love lost between the two of you but we either stand together or the whole world falls with us.”<br/>
<br/>
“I haven’t completed a field assignment in years Charles,” interrupted Kali.  “And what about Hélène’s training?”<br/>
<br/>
“Take her with you,” he replied<br/>
<br/>
“Charles, it’s a retrograde motion,” interrupted Kali anxiously.  “She’s not ready.  What if I can’t protect her?”<br/>
<br/>
“You said it yourself – she’s nearly an adult,” said Charles, a hint of steel surfacing in his voice.  “Either she’s going to be ready or she never will.  You’ve had her for a month and you must have seen what she can do without even thinking about it.  Look at the way she’s drawing on your protective instincts right now.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali sat silently for a moment.  He was right.  She’d never been quite so protective of any of the students the<i> Stellae</i> had sent her over the years.  Oh, she’d mothered all of them, but never quite like Hélène.  The reflected synergy of their shared Perelandra <i>ousiarch</i>  had affected her more than she had realised.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re right,” she finally said.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course I’m right,” he chuckled warmly.  The sound lifted Kali’s spirits and she found herself smiling faintly.  “Now get yourself and the girl to Seattle.  I’m looking forward to your report.”  With that, he hung up.<br/>
<br/>
Kali turned round to return the handset to its position and found Hélène standing at the door.  “How long have you been there,” she asked.<br/>
<br/>
“A minute, maybe two,” replied the girl.  She walked in and closed the door behind her.  “Is it true?  Are we going on an assignment?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali nodded as she walked across to Hélène.  “Yes”<br/>
<br/>
The girl bit her lip nervously.  “It is not going to be…  dangerous… is it?”<br/>
<br/>
“Everything about what we do is dangerous child,” said Kali as she returned the phone handset to its position.  She gave the girl a hug.  Kali could feel her trembling.  “But I will protect you as if you were my own.  Are you sure you want to come with me,” she asked.<br/>
<br/>
“If you asked me before I heard you on the phone I would have said yes,” replied Hélène, looking up at Kali.  “Now I am scared, but I have to do this sooner or later do I not?”  Hélène broke off from Kali.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes child, you do,” replied Kali.  “Now come on, we have cases to pack.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
To stop reading and go to bed: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1510047">Equations with Multiple Solutions</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222112211
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion - Part 3
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Kali and Hélène dragged their cases to the airport check in desk.  The plastic blonde manning the desk smiled joylessly.  “Hi-my-name-is-Caitlyn-how-can-I-help-you,” the check in blonde said.  She sounded as if she was reading from a script.  Hélène pushed the handle on her case down and back inside before placing it on the belt at the side of the desk.  Then she took a couple of steps away from the desk and started staring at the ceiling with a look of acute disinterest.<br/>
<br/>
“Hello Caitlyn,” said Kali.  She pulled a sheaf of paper from her shoulder bag and placed it on the desk.<br/>
<br/>
Caitlyn took the papers and started clicking the mouse on her terminal.  “Seattle, huh?  What’s taking you out that way?”<br/>
<br/>
“We have family there,” said Kali smoothly.  It was true, after a fashion.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s always good to see your family again,” said Caitlyn.  “I hope you and your daughter enjoy the trip.”  Caitlyn made a show of looking over the top of the desk.  “Just two pieces of luggage?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” replied Kali.  Caitlyn attached a label to Hélène’s case and the belt juddered forward.  “We won’t be away long.”<br/>
<br/>
“Hard to get time away from work, huh,” asked Caitlyn.  Kali placed her own case belt behind Hélène’s<br/>
<br/>
“Taking it with us,” muttered Kali under her breath as Caitlyn attached a label to the second case.  The belt juddered to life again and the cases disappeared into a dark hole behind the desk.<br/>
<br/>
Caitlyn finished typing at her terminal.  She pulled a pair of boarding cards from the printer and handed them to Kali.  “By the way,” said Caitlyn.  “I love your accent.  Irish, right?”<br/>
<br/>
“Scottish,” explained Kali.  She took the boarding cards from the blonde and slipped her arm round a bored looking Hélène.  “Come on child, we have time for a coffee before the flight.<br/>
<br/>
Kali guided Hélène away from the check in desks and down the concourse.  “Why did she think I was your daughter,” the girl asked once the desks were out of earshot.  “We look nothing like each other.”<br/>
<br/>
“Do you remember what I told you about your <i>ousiarchs</i> when you first came to me?”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, yes,” said Hélène.  “They are Perelandra and Sulva.  I did not understand that though.  The Moon is not a planet.”<br/>
<br/>
"'Planet' as we mean it is not as the astronomers mean it, child. For them, Pluto is not a planet, not any more, not according to their classification. But Kenadandra is and was and always will be a planet, for us. It is the same with the Moon, with Sulva."<br/>
<br/>
"Is Sulva powerful because it is so close?"<br/>
<br/>
"Proximity has nothing to do with it either. Nor size. Again, Pluto is very small, even smaller than the Moon, and very far away. But Kenadandra is as powerful as any of the others."<br/>
<br/>
"As powerful as Glundandra? Or Arbol?"<br/>
<br/>
Kali thought of Charles, and smiled. "As powerful in his influence, yes. But no planet is more powerful than any other. They merely have different influences. Do you remember how I described Sulva's influence?"<br/>
<br/>
“You said it was like a mirror,” said the girl as Kali lead her inside the coffee house.  “It reflects things.”<br/>
<br/>
“Exactly,” said Kali.  She sat down at one of the tables and nodded to one of the baristas.  Hélène sat opposite her.  “Sulva is one of your <i>ousiarchs</i>, and as the Moon reflects the light of the heavens, so you reflect things too.”<br/>
<br/>
“I reflect things,” asked Hélène, puzzled.<br/>
<br/>
“You fit in child,” explained Kali.  “Wherever you go, you fit in.  That’s why she thought you were my daughter.  You just looked as if you belonged with me, despite the differences in our appearances.  That and you played the part of bored child to perfection, without even thinking about it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Incredible,” exclaimed Hélène.<br/>
<br/>
“Did you notice that your accent was gone too?”  The girl shook her head again.  “When you came to me a month ago you sounded very French, but now you sound as if you were born here.”<br/>
<br/>
“I still do not know all the words very well,” protested Hélène.<br/>
<br/>
“True,” said Kali. She paused her explanation as the barista arrived at the table to take their order. “You lack the linguistic skill that a Viritrilbia might possess, but you speak with a native accent effortlessly. I have lived here for years and I still sound Scottish. Even if the locals can not tell the difference.”<br/>
<br/>
“Does that mean if I went to Scotland I would sound Scottish,” asked Hélène enthusiastically.<br/>
<br/>
Kali laughed out loud. It was a rich and earthy sound, the laugh of a woman confident and relaxed in her life. “Yes child, you would. It would be quite a thing to hear I think. But you must not count on such things," she added quietly. Hélène looked at her; Kali hesitated to continue, but as she had already gone so far…<br/>
<br/>
"Sulva waxes and he wanes. This quality refracts itself in different ways with different adepts, as the influences of all <i>ousiarchs</i> refract differently with their adepts. It is said that with some of Sulva's adepts, the waxing and the waning means they go into eclipse until they are needed, when they blaze brightly forth. For some, it means their gifts themselves wax and wane, with some skills coming to the fore as others retreat. For you--" Kali paused as the barista delivered two drinks: A coffee for Kali and a fruit smoothee for Hélène. Hélène ignored the pointed look the barista gave her as she sucked on the straw of her drink. "For you," she continued, "it is the connection itself that waxes and wanes. When Sulva wanes, you must trust to Perelandra, as the moon yields to the sun in daytime, and to the other planets when she is new."<br/>
<br/>
“That sounds awkward,” said Hélène with a nod.  “Are a lot of <i>Stellae</i> agents Sulvas.”<br/>
<br/>
“Sulvae are incredibly rare,” corrected Kali.  “Although it would be more accurate to say they are difficult to find.”  Kali stopped to take a drink of her coffee.  “Charles, the man who found you in Paris…”<br/>
<br/>
“It was Saint-Denis,” interrupted Hélène.  “Completely different place.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali allowed herself a faint smile before continuing.  “Charles said it was blind luck that your paths crossed.  It’s been over a hundred years since a Sulva last joined the <i>Stellae</i>,” explained Kali.  <br/>
<br/>
“What happened to her,” asked Hélène.<br/>
<br/>
“Him.  I… uh…”  Kali hesitated again.  “We do not know.”  Kali had checked the records on previous Sulvae when Charles had told her about Hélène.  They had been frustratingly vague.  “Charles has a theory,” continued Kali quickly.  She wanted to change the subject.  “That Sulvae are in fact a lot more common than we think. They may even be more common that all of the other planets, but they just go about with their lives fitting in. They never realise they are entangled with Sulva, and we never see them."<br/>
<br/>
"Entangled?" the girl says.<br/>
<br/>
"It's a metaphor, child. Your <i>ousiarch</i> is very far, but also very close. It is like a cord between you. And it is also like a shadow in the mid-day sun – The shadow is your <i>essentia</i> but it is the <i>ousiarch</i> that shapes its form."<br/>
<br/>
The girl chewed on the end of the straw in her drink thoughtfully. “I never thought I was anything special,” she said after a little while. Perhaps she had given up trying to understand.<br/>
<br/>
Kali took another drink from her coffee as the girl noisily drained the last drop of her smoothee.  “But you are,” explained Kali, trying to encourage the girl.  She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a worn leather bound book.  “Now, you have been asking a lot about the planets in the last day or two.  Since I told you much of this when you first came to me I thought that a little <i>revision</i> might be in order.”  Hélène’s face fell.  Kali put the book on the table and pushed it towards the girl.  The title was printed in faded gold lettering on the worn cover – <i>The Shadows of the Planets</i>.  “The flight is going to take a couple of hours.  That’s enough time for a little reading.”<br/>
<br/>
“Homework,” exclaimed Hélène.  She scrunched up her face.  “That is so unfair.”<br/>
<br/>
“Perhaps we should have a test when we reach Seattle,” replied Kali.  She took another drink from her coffee, finishing it.  She stared at Hélène sternly for a few moments before breaking into a smile.  “Or not, but remember:  Once we step off that plane there can be no games.  Everything will be deadly serious and your life may depend on you following instructions exactly.  Do you understand?”<br/>
<br/>
“I do,” said Hélène solemnly.<br/>
<br/>
Kali placed a few coins from her purse on the table and stood up.  “Then let’s go find our departure gate.  I swear, there must be diabolic magic involved in the construction of airports.”<br/>
<br/>
“Can I have the window seat,” asked the girl as she stood up.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course you can child.”<br/>
<br/>
*****<br/>
<br/>
To stop reading and go to bed: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1510047">Equations with Multiple Solutions</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122221122111
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion - Part 4
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The rain battered the windshield of the hire car as Kali drove north from the airport.  It had a sat-nav which Kali had programmed to take them into the city proper.  It occasionally bleeped as it directed Kali to turn one way or the other.<br/>
<br/>
Hélène sat in the passenger seat, midway through <i>The Shadows of the Planets</i>.  “Is it always this rainy here,” she asked as she looked up from the book.<br/>
<br/>
“So they say,” replied Kali.  “It reminds me of home,” she continued absentmindedly.<br/>
<br/>
“It didn’t rain at all in LA,” said Hélène, her brow furrowed.<br/>
<br/>
“I meant <i>home</i>,” explained Kali wistfully.  “Scotland.”<br/>
<br/>
“You sound like you miss it,” said the girl.<br/>
<br/>
Kali stared out the windshield silently.  “Maybe I do.”  They stopped at a red light and a crowd of pedestrians crossed the road in front of them, huddling under their umbrellas, jackets and, for a few of them, briefcases.  “Maybe not the weather though,” smiled Kali.<br/>
<br/>
The light turned green and the car started moving again.  “Where are we going,” asked Hélène.<br/>
<br/>
“A hotel on the waterfront,” explained Kali.  “It matches the co-ordinates Lucio sent me.  Either we will find him there or he will have left a dead drop for us.”  Kali turned the wheel left, sending the car down another street.  “I also made a reservation for two rooms for us.”<br/>
<br/>
“Cool,” replied the girl with a smile.  She flipped back several pages in the book and looked at it closely for a minute.  “Is Lucio staying at a waterfront hotel because he’s an Eldibria?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali permitted herself a smile.  “Why do you think that,” she asked.<br/>
<br/>
“It says here that water is tied to emotions,” explained Hélène.  “And that having a lot of it nearby might soothe him.”<br/>
<br/>
“Exactly,” replied Kali.  She turned the car right and suddenly there were no longer any buildings on one side of the street.  <br/>
<br/>
Hélène stretched forward to try and see past Kali.  In the distance, shrouded by the rain, she could make out the land at the opposite side of the inlet.  “I was hoping to see the ocean,” she said with a trace of disappointment in her voice.  Heavy storm clouds filled the sky, making the early evening even darker than it otherwise would have been.<br/>
<br/>
“We are here because we have a job to do,” replied Kali sternly.  She pulled the car into a space at the side of the road.  Her expression softened a little.  “I’ll take you to see the ocean when we get back to LA.”  Kali pulled the keys from the ignition.  “Here we are.  They have an underground garage but we’ll need to check in first.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali stepped out of the parked car and into the rain.  It had shifted from a heavy, dull patter to the kind of thin mist that would permeate her clothing and leave her thoroughly wet.  Despite this, she pulled a compact black umbrella from her shoulder bag and raised it so at least her hair would remain dry.  Kali took a deep breath while Hélène scuttled out car and ran to the trunk to retrieve her case.<br/>
<br/>
Hélène was already inside the hotel by the time Kali had lifted her own case and locked the car behind her.  Kali took her time, enjoying the cool of the air as she walked towards the lobby.  It was well appointed but sparse.  A lone custodian was mopping the marbled floor.  He placed the mop in his bucket, spilling sudsy water on the floor and leaned on it as Kali entered.  The custodian regarded Hélène and Kali both from behind a bristly silver moustache as they crossed the lobby floor to the reception.<br/>
<br/>
The clerk was barely older than Hélène and, unlike the girl, growing up had not been kind to his complexion.  He made a vain attempt to straighten his tie and smooth his hair.  His eyes swivelled from Kali, to Hélène and back to Kali before finally settling on Hélène again.  At chest level.<br/>
<br/>
“Hi… Uh…” he stuttered.  “Welcome to the…  Uh…  Hi.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali coughed discretely and the youth’s gaze snapped up to her face.  “We have reservations,” she said calmly.  “In the name Valentine.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, right,” replied the clerk.  He looked at the computer in front of him with a look of complete confusion on his face.   “Reservations…  Reservations…  It’s here somewhere,” he tailed off.  Kali simply sighed patiently while the youth recovered his wits.  “Gotcha,” he muttered under his breath before continuing more audibly.  “Can I have your credit card Madam?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali handed over her card and leaned on the desk.  After a minute of fumbling the clerk returned the card along with a couple of swipe card room keys.  “Here you are Madam.  Rooms five-oh-four and five-oh-five on the fifth floor.  The elevator is behind you and to the left.”  He glanced at Hélène again and smiled fuzzily.  “Enjoy your stay.”<br/>
<br/>
The custodian tipped his cap to Kali and Hélène as they walked to the elevator, which opened immediately when Hélène pressed the call button.  “Did you see him,” asked Hélène once the elevator had begun its upward journey.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes child,” replied Kali.<br/>
<br/>
“His tongue was hanging out his mouth,” the girl said with a mixture of disgust and amusement.<br/>
<br/>
“It wasn’t quite like that,” corrected Kali as the elevator chimed.  The doors opened and they walked out.  “And it is something you will have to become accustomed to in any case.”<br/>
<br/>
“Americans,” muttered Hélène.<br/>
<br/>
“Something like that,” said Kali with a smile.  The reached one of the rooms and Kali used the swipe card to open it.  “Besides, you will be talking to him again in a minute,” continued Kali as Hélène followed her into the room.<br/>
<br/>
“What,” exclaimed Hélène.  “You are not being serious!”<br/>
<br/>
“I am,” explained Kali sternly.  “Some Perelandrae have that effect on people – simply being in the same room as them is intoxicating.  Overwhelming.  You can take advantage of this to befuddle and confuse – to make someone that it would be a good idea to do something that they should not.  For example, tell you information about another guest or perhaps even give you a key to their room.”  Hélène grimaced.<br/>
<br/>
“Relax child, you will not have to <i>do</i> anything,” continued Kali in a soothing tone of voice.  “You saw that simply standing next to him rendered him barely capable of his job.  Simply tell him that Lucio is your uncle.”  Lucio’s face swam back into Kali’s memory – the slick black hair, the tanned skin and the dark eyes.  She steadied herself on the handle of her case.  “That should be more than enough,” she finished quickly.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay then,” said Hélène unhappily.  “Are you going to watch over me?”<br/>
<br/>
“No, I’m going to move the car into the garage,” replied Kali.  “And if you think you have an unpleasant task, remember that at least you don’t have to go back out into the Seattle rain.”  Hélène smiled a little.  Kali laughed, and soon Hélène joined in.  “It isn’t so bad, is it child,” said Kali as she gave the girl the key to the other room.  Hélène nodded in agreement.  “Return here when you are done.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
To stop reading and go to bed: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1510047">Equations with Multiple Solutions</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222211221111
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion - Part 5
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Kali found Hélène at the door to her room when she returned.  The girl’s face was pale with worry.  “I think I have a date for tonight,” she said nervously<br/>
<br/>
Kali sighed.  “How did you manage that child,” she asked patiently.<br/>
<br/>
“He kept on asking and asking and asking,” explained Hélène.  “He would not listen when I said no.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali thought of Lucio again.  “Your presence can be <i>too</i> overwhelming for some,” explained Kali.  “Given time, and practice you will become more adept in making use of it.”  Kali thought for a moment.  “I will talk to the boy and convince him to leave you alone.  Now, did you persuade him to tell you anything about Lucio?”<br/>
<br/>
The colour flooded back into Hélène’s face as she smiled.  “I got his room key,” she said and produced it with a flourish.  “Room four-one-two.”<br/>
<br/>
“Well done Hélène,” said Kali.  She gave the girl a wide smile.  “Your first success in the field.”  Kali took the card from Hélène.  “Let’s see what he’s left us.”<br/>
<br/>
It did not take long to find Lucio’s  room, which was on the floor directly below Kali’s and Hélène’s.  Kali opened the door with the key Hélène had given her and the pair walked in.<br/>
<br/>
“He has left all his clothes,” said Hélène as she looked around.  A suitcase lay open on top of one of the chairs.  Clothes spilled out of it.<br/>
<br/>
“He expected to return,” said Kali.  She ran her hand along the surface of the bed.  “He hasn’t been back here for at least a day.  The bed is untouched.”  She looked around the room.  “Check the toilet Hélène, see if it shows any sign of use since the room was last cleaned.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ewww,” groaned Hélène.<br/>
<br/>
“Did you think field work was all glamour child,” replied Kali knowingly.  “Wait till you get your hands <i>really</i> dirty.”  Hélène rolled her eyes but complied with Kali’s instruction.<br/>
<br/>
Kali turned her attention to the wardrobe.  She slid the mirrored door aside.  Three sharp looking suits hung forlornly on a rail.  Methodically, Kali checked the pockets of each one.  The first two suits were empty, the third contained some small change a receipt for a fast food restaurant at the airport.<br/>
<br/>
“I do not think anything has been used here,” called Hélène from the toilet.<br/>
<br/>
Kali slid the wardrobe closed.  “Check the drawers in here then child,” she called back.  “Lucio is far too experienced and operative to leave us with nothing.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali moved onto Lucio’s suitcase as Hélène emerged from the toilets.  Several creased shirts hung from it.  Kali looked through the pocket in one, and then another.  Below the shirts was a pile of Lucio’s underwear.  Kali steeled herself.<br/>
<br/>
“I’ve found something,” said the girl.  Kali turned to look at her.  Hélène had a USB drive in her hand.<br/>
<br/>
“Aha,” said Kali smoothly.  “Well done, <i>again</i>, Hélène.”  The girl beamed at Kali and handed her the drive.  “We’ll take this back to my room and see what it contains.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali locked Lucio’s room behind her as they left.  “This field work is really easy,” said Hélène as they waited for the elevator to take them back upstairs.<br/>
<br/>
“This is the easy part child,” explained Kali as the elevator chimed and the door slid open.  They both stepped inside and Hélène pressed the button for their floor.  “And we were lucky:  Lucio left something for us to find.  The trick will be in making sense of it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Will that be hard,” asked Hélène.  The elevator slowed to a halt and the doors opened again.  “I do not understand.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali smiled as she stepped out of the elevator and headed to her room.  “Well, we’ll see what is on here, shall we.”  She unlocked her room and entered.  “My laptop is in my case, bring it over here.”<br/>
<br/>
Hélène pulled Kali’s laptop out of the suitcase and handed it to her.  Kali sat in one of the chairs in the room and then turned it on.   Hélène slipped round behind her and looked over Kali’s shoulder as she slipped the USB drive into the laptop.<br/>
<br/>
“That is strange,” said Hélène as Kali opened the drive.  “There is only one thing on it.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali smiled as she opened the sole file on the drive.  “Think of it as more of a message in a bottle than a collection of work child.  It’s more to set us in the right direction than to tell us what he is doing.”  Kali frowned at the computer.  “Ah, this will make things more difficult.  I suppose this is not unexpected, but more difficult.”<br/>
<br/>
“What,” asked Hélène.  She craned her neck to see the screen.  The opened file was simply an image, covered in a scrawl of meaningless symbols that became more and more complex looking as they progressed from the top left corner to the bottom right.  “What is this,” she asked.  “I do not understand.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s a cipher of some kind,” explained Kali, rubbing at her temples.  “Knowing Lucio, it’s one of his own devising.”<br/>
<br/>
“Can you understand it,” asked Hélène anxiously.<br/>
<br/>
“No, but…”  Kali stopped for a second and pointed at some of the symbols near the top.  “These shapes near the top represent the planets using astronomical symbols.  They might be a key to deciphering his meaning.”  Kali smiled.  “This is very clever.  I think if I make some assumptions about the symbols here, here and here,” she said indicating with her finger.  “I could unravel it.”<br/>
<br/>
“That makes it clever,” asked Hélène.  “How long would it take?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes child it does,” explained Kali.  “The assumptions are based on the influences of the <i>ousiarchs</i>.  Another member of the <i>Stellae</i> could find this and, eventually, understand it, but for an outsider, it would take significantly longer to crack.”  Kali pointed midway down the page.  “Especially once the symbols start building on themselves.  It has the haphazard illogic of a Catilindria’s work.”<br/>
<br/>
“And Lucio is a Catilindria too,” exclaimed Hélène, standing up straight.<br/>
<br/>
“Exactly,” replied Kali.  “As for how long it would take me.  Two, maybe three days.”<br/>
<br/>
“Uggh,” interrupted Hélène, her lip curled.  “What am I going to do while you do this?  Can you not be quicker?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali sighed.  “That is as long as it will take me child.  I can not just magic up a translation…”  Kali hesitated.  She was right to say that it was beyond the powers of her <i>ousiarchs</i>, but it was also true that there were other members of the <i>Stellae</i> who could solve the problem quicker.  “Unless…  Unless I send it to John,” she said tentatively.  “Yes.  John could do it within hours rather than days.”<br/>
<br/>
“So send it,” exclaimed Hélène.  “And who is John?”<br/>
<br/>
“Child,” scolded Kali gently.  “Be mindful of how you speak.  John Reilly is another one of the <i>Stellae</i> and he will be able to translate Lucio’s message far more quickly than I.  Think on what you have read today and tell me why,” said Kali as she connected her laptop to the hotel’s wireless network.<br/>
<br/>
Hélène walked out from behind Kali’s chair and sat on the bed.  She looked up to the ceiling as she searched her memory.  “Viritrilbia,” she exclaimed after a minute of thought.  “He’s a Viritrilbia.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes child,” nodded Kali.  “Communication is within the sphere of Viritrilbia.”  She tapped out an email to John as she spoke.  “John will have an answer for us by tomorrow morning.  Unless Lucio has been working on something about zeppelins,” she said as she attached Lucio’s file to the mail.<br/>
<br/>
“Why does that matter,” asked Hélène, her brow furrowed in confusion.  “Will he not have an answer for us then?”<br/>
<br/>
“He will still have the answer child,” explained Kali.  She smiled ruefuly.  “But he will also want to talk my ear off as well.”  Kali clicked to send the mail.  “Now go to your room and unpack.  I will deal with your date for tonight.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
To stop reading and go to bed: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1510047">Equations with Multiple Solutions</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222112211111
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion - Part 6
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Kali’s sleep was abruptly broken by a sharp knocking on her door.  Her hand fumbled about the beside cabinet until she felt her watch with her fingertips.  She examined it, barely able to make out the hands in the still dark room.  It was just past eight in the morning.<br/>
<br/>
The door was knocked again.  “Kali,” came Hélène’s voice from the other side.  “Are you awake yet?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali pulled herself out from under the bed covers.  It was cooler here than back in LA and she had chosen to wear an old shirt in bed.  Despite this, she searched for her robe before opening the door.<br/>
<br/>
Hélène froze as the door opened, her hand poised to knock again.  “Good morning Kali,” she said energetically.  The girl was fully dressed and bright and alert.  Under one arm was the copy of <i>The Shadows of the Planets</i> Kali had given her the day before.<br/>
<br/>
Kali yawned loudly.  “Do you know what time it is child,” she asked a little sullenly.<br/>
<br/>
“Breakfast time,” exclaimed Hélène.  “They started making it five minutes ago.”<br/>
<br/>
“And they will still be making it fifty minutes from now,” replied Kali, yawning again.  Before she could tell the girl to come back in half an hour her cell phone rang.<br/>
<br/>
Kali turned round and frowned.  She walked over to the phone and Hélène followed her into the room.  Kali looked at the caller’s ID which read ‘John R’.<br/>
<br/>
“John,” she said after flipping the phone.  “What is it?”<br/>
<br/>
“Kali, it pains me to be so abrupt when talking to your charming self but I have a question of the utmost import that must be addressed before we progress,” said the voice at the other end.  John spoke with an almost knowing, laconic drawl.  “Are you in the presence of your charge?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” replied Kali patiently.  She found it better to let John exhaust his side of the conversation and answer when he had run out of breath.  “The child is with me now.”<br/>
<br/>
“Good, very  good in fact.  Now, this is vital:  Do not let her out of your sight,” he continued uncharacteristically directly.<br/>
<br/>
“I, what,” asked Kali, momentarily flustered.<br/>
<br/>
“Keep an eye on her, sit tight and wait for help to arrive,” stated John.  “I’m sending you the translated version of Lucio’s message, which, may I add, impressed me – some very clever variations there.  I’m attaching a couple of images from the archives as well.”<br/>
<br/>
“Look John,”  said Kali smoothly as she turned on her laptop.  “I’ve just woken up and you are going a little too fast for me.  Can you start at the beginning.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, yes,” replied John a little irritably.  “To cut a long story short, Lucio was on the trail of an artefact, and an especially potent and unpleasant one at that.  This thing makes even legends like the <i>Hasta Glundandra</i> and the <i>Libra Personae</i> look like children’s toys.  I assume you’re familiar with the <i>Calice de Ténèbres</i>…”<br/>
<br/>
“I’ve heard of it,” said Kali softly.<br/>
<br/>
“… also known as the False Grail,” continued John.  “Of course, that’s just the name we have for it from some thirteenth century French stories that didn’t quite make it into <i>Le Morte D’Arthur</i>.  Not romantic enough I assume.  The actual artefact itself is far older than both the stories and, indeed, the artefact is supposed to darkly mirror.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m aware of the Chalice,” said Kali just a shade testily.  “Although I had assumed it had passed into legend.  It’s an <i>essentia</i> incline.  It…”  Kali hesitated.  She looked at Hélène, who was bending over besides one of the chairs.  It wasn’t something she wished to discuss in front of the girl.<br/>
<br/>
“Lucio found a warlock that’s been <i>using it</i>.  And now Lucio is missing.  'Cannibalism' is an ugly but apt word.  You and your protégé do not want to end up as a nice snack for some <i>essentia</i> hungry monster.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali glanced at Hélène again and her stomach turned a somersault.  “What do we do.”<br/>
<br/>
“Like I said, sit tight.  I called the old man as soon as I translated the message.  He’s sending two Malacandrae to assist.  Nash Carnes was in Vancouver and he’s driving down right now.  Miko Toyotomi is going to fly over from Kyoto as soon as she works out how to get that katana of hers past security.”<br/>
<br/>
“What’s this,” said Hélène to herself.  Kali was too preoccupied with John to notice her.<br/>
<br/>
“Here’s the wrinkle,” continued John.  “I sent you two pictures of the Chalice, two pictures from the archive.  You see what the problem is.”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m just opening them now,” explained Kali.  She frowned as she looked at the pictures.  “They look different.”<br/>
<br/>
“Completely so, I know.  The first one is a sketch based on the reports from the thirteenth century when it looked like a gem studded golden goblet.  The second is from when it resurfaced in the late eighteenth century during the Reign of Terror and suddenly it’s a wicker basket about the size of a human head.  I don’t know which is more terrifying:  That there are two artefacts like this out there, or that there is only one which can <i>look different</i>…”<br/>
<br/>
Kali found herself distracted as Hélène wandered round beside her.  The girl was holding in her hand a…  Well it was difficult to describe exactly what she was holding in here hand.  “I found this hiding under the chair,” she said.  It had the look of a little mechanical cockroach, with legs built out of metal and gears and string.  Improbably it had a miniature gramophone horn built onto its back.<br/>
<br/>
Kali stared at the device in bewilderment for a moment until Hélène suddenly dropped it.<br/>
<br/>
“It got hot,” she whined, rubbing her hand.  The little bug glowed a brilliant white and burst into flame.  <br/>
<br/>
It shrieked shrilly and suddenly the hotel fire alarm joined in.  A sprinkler concealed in the ceiling burst into life, showering the room with water.  Kali’s laptop fizzled and died, the images of the Chalice flickering for a moment before fading to black.<br/>
<br/>
“What in the nine hells is going on over there,” John had just enough time to say before the cell phone sparked and died as well.<br/>
<br/>
“Come oan,” said Kali, her accent making an attempt to escape.  She grabbed her shoulder bag with one hand and Hélène with the other.  Kali dragged the surprised girl towards the door.  “We cannae…  I mean we can’t stay here.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali pushed past the door with Hélène following along in her wake.  The lights in the corridor flickered unsteadily as another sprinkler kicked in above the pair.  Kali looked from left to right.  At the far end of the corridor she could see a green sign that proclaimed the emergency exit.<br/>
<br/>
“This way,” she shouted.<br/>
<br/>
Hélène finally gathered her wits and slipped free of Kali’s grasp.  The girl started running in long, easy strides towards the exit, still managing to hold onto her book.  Kali followed, her robe flapping freely as she tried to block out the disorientating wail of the fire alarm.  More sprinklers started to soak the pair with water as they passed underneath.<br/>
<br/>
Hélène pushed the emergency exit open.  Beyond the door a bare concrete stairwell lead down to safety.  She leapt down the stairs, vaulting them two at a time.  Kali skittered along behind her.  She nearly slipped and fell as water dripped from her robe and onto the stairs.  If either noticed than none of the other hotel guests had joined them in their headlong rush to escape, they paid it no heed.  They were far to busy themselves.<br/>
<br/>
Hélène reached the bottom of the stairwell and shoved in vain at the green double doors that lead outside.  They rattled but did not budge.  She tried again.  Kali joined in as she reached the bottom of the stairs as well.  Still the doors stayed closed.  Kali took a step back.<br/>
<br/>
“What the…” she muttered as she looked at the doors.  A heavy metal chain with an imposing padlock was wrapped around the bars on the doors.  “This is no good child.  We must find another way out.  Perhaps the garage.”  Kali turned round.<br/>
<br/>
The custodian was standing there.<br/>
<br/>
He threw his mop to the side.  It clattered against the loudly.  Loud enough to be heard over the sound of the fire alarm.  He reached down to pick up the bucket just as Hélène turned to see what was happening.  The custodian’s pale eyes glittered with malice as he tossed the water inside the bucket over Kali and Hélène.<br/>
<br/>
It erupted like a torrent, flying into their faces with much more force than should have been possible.    For Kali and Hélène, everything just faded to black.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
To stop reading and go to bed: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1510047">Equations with Multiple Solutions</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122221122111111
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion - Part 7
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Kali’s head throbbed as she blinked open her eyes.  There was no way for her to tell how long she had been knocked out for.  She tried to move, but even turning her head the tiniest of fractions felt impossibly draining.  Her arms and legs refused to respond to her commands.<br/>
<br/>
She was upright, more or less, and leaning back on some kind of almost vertical table.  Her arms and legs didn’t feel as if they were bound, just held in place by unnatural lethargy.  Kali managed to turn her head a little.  The room was dark, lit only by a couple of dull red emergency lights.  Deep shadows hid much of it, but it seemed like some maintenance cubby hole.  In the middle of the room, there was a battered old wooden desk.  To her left, another table had been rigged to just a little off vertical.  Hélène lay against it, still unconscious.<br/>
<br/>
Kali sighed.  She prayed desperately that she was wrong, but she had to ask the question:  “Lucio, are you there?”<br/>
<br/>
Lucio emerged from one of the shadows.  He was still wearing the custodians boiler suit and cap but his face was his own again.  “When’d you work it out,” he asked, his voice nasal and whiny.<br/>
<br/>
“The homunculus in my room was the first clue,” said Kali, trying to keep her voice even.  “I suppose you found it funny that you could <i>bug</i> us like that.  It has your style.”  With great effort she swallowed and licked her lips.  It was exhausting even to talk.  “The way the sprinklers came on was a giveaway too, but if I’m being honest I didn’t know for sure until you walked into view there.”<br/>
<br/>
“Enjoy your victory witch,” he sneered.  “It’s your last.”<br/>
<br/>
“Is it,” asked Kali.  The only thing she could think of was to keep him talking.  If she just managed to do it for long enough then maybe help would arrive.  “How long have you really had the chalice for?”<br/>
<br/>
Lucio’s face betrayed a moment of surprise before his eye’s narrowed.  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”<br/>
<br/>
“That little display upstairs was way above your power level,” explained Kali with effort.  “You used the chalice, it’s a logical explanation.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah I used the chalice,” replied Lucio angrily.  He strode forward until he was right in front of Kali.  He thrust one dirty finger right in front of her face.  “Let me tell you why I used the damned Chalice: Anika Nicolescu.  She was eight when they took her.  Eight!”  Lucio span away and stalked to the other side of the room.  <br/>
<br/>
“Three witches in the Carpathian back country,” he continued once his rage had subsided.  “They had this immortality plan going with the Chalice – they’d kidnap a little girl and the oldest would use the chalice to steal her youth.  I got lucky and I caught the crone, with the chalice with too.  Wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t say a damned thing and I’m thinking times running out and their going to kill the girl out of spite anyway.  So I used it.  Sucked up enough of what was in her head to dust her coven and save the girl.”<br/>
<br/>
“And you took some of her power too,” interrupted Kali.<br/>
<br/>
“Her power wasn’t important,” shouted Lucio.  He gestured wildly.  “Saving a <i>little girl’s life</i> was.”<br/>
<br/>
Hélène stirred.  Her eyes blinked and she muttered a few slurred words.<br/>
<br/>
“That wasn’t the only time you used it though, was it,” guessed Kali.  “Was there even a warlock here?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, he’s… <i>hanging around</i>… till I need him,” sniggered Lucio.  “And yeah, I used the Chalice a couple of times since,” he admitted.  “Don’t you go all sanctimonious on me, bitch.  It was nothing that didn’t deserve it:  A troll in Siberia, a couple of warlocks in Europe,”  he shouted.  “We lock these artefacts away.  Hide them and throw away the key and <i>people die</i>.”  He walked back across the room till he was face to face with Kali.  “<i>I</i> saved lives.”<br/>
<br/>
“Is that what all this about,” asked Kali quietly.  “You think that you know better than Charles?  Than the rest of us?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah actually, I do,” sneered Lucio.  “When was the last time you were in the field?”<br/>
<br/>
“You would corrupt all that we stand for,” said Kali coldly.  “You have turned against our purpose.  You are as retrograde  Lucio.  You are…”  An old Scots word surfaced in Kali’s memory, taught to her on her mothers knee. “…widdershins.”  <br/>
<br/>
“Catilindria is <i>meant</i> to be retrograde Kali,” laughed Lucio.  “It turns against the rest of the <i>ousiarchs</i> and challenges them.”<br/>
<br/>
“You know that is not the case,” thundered Kali as strongly as she was able to.  “We stand as a bulwark between the darkness and the light,” she continued.  “We protect the innocent from that which would lead them astray.  You will never lead us on such a folly.”<br/>
<br/>
Lucio took two steps backwards and smiled unpleasantly.  “I never intended to lead the <i>Stellae</i> into a new age,” he said.  “But I thought that <i>you</i> would.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali frowned in confusion.  Before she could marshal her thoughts to reply Hélène interrupted.  “Where am I,” asked the girl, her voice tinged with fear.<br/>
<br/>
Lucio raised an eyebrow.  “I’d almost forgotten about your student,” he said as he turned towards Hélène.  “Hello there.  Kali been filling up your head with noble sounding nonsense?”<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t answer him,” shouted Kali through gritted teeth.<br/>
<br/>
“Doesn’t matter,” sneered Lucio.  He place one hand on Hélène’s shoulder.  “I can sense the answers running through her emotions.  It’s in her water.  Fear looks so ugly on a face as beautiful as yours.  Arab blood, right?”  Hélène nodded.  “But those striking green eyes come from a different background.”<br/>
<br/>
“My mother,” said Hélène quietly.<br/>
<br/>
Lucio turned back to Kali.  “I didn’t believe it till now but Charles fucking Brennan actually did it, didn’t he?  He actually found a <i>muse</i>.  You could start wars with this one.  Or stop them.”  He paused for a moment and smiled.  Had she been able to move, Kali would have shivered.  “She could even turn the supposed wisdom of a blind old man on its head.”<br/>
<br/>
Lucio walked into one of the shadows.  He re-emerged moments later, with a simple wooden case less than a foot in length held reverentially in his hands.  “Change of plans,” he sniggered as he opened the case and unwrapped something from the velvet cloth inside.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
To stop reading and go to bed: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1510047">Equations with Multiple Solutions</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222211221111111
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion - Part 8
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It was a drinking straw.<br/>
<br/>
A simple pink drinking straw.  One the ones with the ribbed section that let it be bent to an angle.  Lucio put the box to one side and approached Hélène.  He held the straw carefully, as if it would explode if mishandled.  In a way, it would.<br/>
<br/>
“What is that,” whispered Hélène.  Tears formed in her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“Get.  Awae.  From.  Hur,” shouted Kali.<br/>
<br/>
“Feeling stressed,” sniggered Lucio as he turned for a moment to Kali.  “I don’t need any Eldibria water sense to tell that.  Everyone knows your accent gets stronger when you’re stressed.”  He turned back to Hélène.  “Don’t worry child,” Lucio said with what seemed genuine compassion.  He wiped away the tears from Hélène’s face.  “It will only hurt for a little while.  Just one death to save millions like you.”<br/>
<br/>
Lucio planted one end of the straw firmly in Hélène’s skin, just below the collar bone.  A little blood welled up.  Hélène gasped and went rigid.<br/>
<br/>
Slowly and very deliberately Lucio put his lips to the other end of the straw and sucked on it.  A viscous red fluid flowed upwards.  “So sweet,” said Lucio dozily, taking his lips off the Chalice.  He shuddered and for a moment only the whites of his eyes were visible.  “The troll was foul, the crone sour and the warlocks bitter, but this girl is <i>so</i> sweet.”  Lucio put his mouth to the Chalice again and started sucking noisily.<br/>
<br/>
Kali could do nothing but watch as Lucio tore away Hélène’s <i>essentia</i>.  “No,” she whispered as the girl started to deflate.  “No, no, no…”  Limp skin drooped from where the Chalice penetrated Hélène.  “No, no, no…”  It sagged further as the substance of Hélène was sucked up the straw.  Mottled greys and reds and creams flowed up and into Lucio’s waiting mouth.  “No, no, no…”<br/>
<br/>
With a sickening gurgle,  Lucio gulped down the last remnants of Hélène’s insides.  Her flaccid skin slipped from the end of the Chalice and collapsed to the floor in a pile of abandoned clothes and integument.<br/>
<br/>
Lucio sighed contentedly.  He wiped the chalice carefully and returned it to its box, which he then returned to its hiding place in the shadows.  “That happened to the Romanian witch too,” he giggled childishly.  <br/>
<br/>
“They changed it somehow, made it do that,” he said as he pulled at the remnants of Hélène’s skin, disentangling it from her clothes.  “They didn’t just want to steal Anika’s <i>essentia</i>.”  Lucio put Hélène’s remains down on a battered wooden desk and pulled a box knife from a pocket.  He carefully cut at what was left of Hélène although it was impossible for Kali to make out exactly what he was doing.  <br/>
<br/>
“They wanted her <i>imago</i> too,” said Lucio as he took of the custodian’s cap and threw it carelessly away.  He pulled off the boiler suit, revealing his naked body underneath.  “That’s all that’s left of your student,” he said.  He grabbed the remnants of Emelie by he hair and brandished them.  The tawny skin hung loosely.  “Her <i>imago</i>.”<br/>
<br/>
Lucio held the Hélène-skin with both hands working his legs into it as if it were a pair of pants.  “I did this in Romania too,” he explained as he smoothed out the wrinkles at the thighs.  “Let me tell you, were they fucking surprised.”  Lucio jiggled the skin at the hips, tugging it over his own.  He let out a little gasp as he got it into position.  “You wouldn’t believe how weird that feels.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali could only watch with horror.  Lucio’s legs should have snapped and broken the remains of Hélène, or at the very least, stretched them beyond recognition.  Instead, his torso was perched on top a set of wide, curving hips and long, svelte legs.  Hélène’s legs.  “It’s no’ possible,” she stuttered.<br/>
<br/>
Lucio grinned unpleasantly.  “Amazing, isn’t it?”  He slipped one hand into Hélène’s arm, nipping and pulling at the skin as he worked his fingers into hers.  He flexed his newly gloved hand before repeating the process with the other arm.  “And I’m only half done,” said Lucio as he reached behind his torso to draw the Hélène-skin together at the back.  The deflated breasts swelled outwards  as Lucio’s waist narrowed with a weird cracking sound.<br/>
<br/>
He was Hélène from the neck down now.  All that remained of his real self was his head.  The remains of the girls head hung from his neck, her long brunette hair spilling across the front of the body he had stolen.  “Almost done,” sniggered Lucio.  He stretched Hélène’s face, pulling it up and over his own.  It sat weirdly distended for a moment but he prodded and pulled it into position.  It settled into place, narrowing Lucios face, raising the cheekbones and turning his eyes a bright, vivid, green.<br/>
<br/>
Lucio was gone and Hélène stood in his place.<br/>
<br/>
“What’d you think,” said Lucio, his voice matched Hélène’s perfectly.  He walked over to Kali and smiled.  It was a Lucio smile, ugly and threatening.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeh cannae get awae wi’ this,” snarled Kali angrily, straining against the lethargy that trapped her in place.  “Yeh’ll no’ fool anyone.”<br/>
<br/>
“Are you sure,” said Lucio and the smile became Hélène’s – full of innocence and enthusiasm.  “I have her <i>imago</i> and I have her <i>essentia</i>.  You can not tell the difference now, can you” he asked in a perfect Hélène intonation.  “I imagine I shall be very sad after you die.  You were like a mother to me, but I am sure Charles and the rest of the <i>Stellae</i> will be there to console me.”  Lucio cocked his head to one side and his smile turned unpleasant again.  “Not looking forward to having the old fool stick his withered cock inside me, I’ll tell you,” admitted Lucio.  He leaned in close till his face was mere inches away from Kali’s.  “I’ll whisper in his ear as he dreams,” he said quietly.  “He’ll see things my way soon enough.  And better to be this beauty than some greying crone from Glasgow who hides her rough violence under a veneer of civility.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali wanted nothing more than to hit Lucio, but she was held in place by whatever trick he had worked on her.  “Paisley,” she said through gritted teeth.  “Completely diffurent place.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali’s hand moved.<br/>
<br/>
It was just a fraction of an inch and she managed to keep the shock of the realisation off her face.  The lethargy curse that held her in place was almost certainly an Eldibria water working, affecting her body through the mass of water contained within it.<br/>
<br/>
Had Lucio weakened his connection to Eldibria in pretending to be Hélène?<br/>
<br/>
To Kali it seemed like a possibility.  A <i>Stellae</i> could only have two <i>ousiarchs</i>, but now Lucio wrapped himself in the cords of four. <i>Entangled?</i> The thought formed in her mind like a sigh. <i>Perhaps the shadows are now a ne</i>t. There was only one way to find out.<br/>
<br/>
With a sharp, sudden, jerk of her neck, Kali crashed her forehead into the fake Hélène’s nose.  The resistance she felt simply melted away as Lucio staggered backwards, his concentration broken.  “Yeh wur right tho’,” said Kali as she stepped smartly forward.  She took a deep breath to calm herself before continuing.  “I am violent when I need to be:  You can take the girl out of Paisley but you can’t take Paisley out of the girl.”<br/>
<br/>
Blood streamed from Lucio’s now delicate nose.  “You ruined my face, you <i>bitch</i>,” he shrieked.<br/>
<br/>
Kali sought to press home her momentary advantage.  She stared at one of the red emergency lights in the room and focused a sliver of her power upon it.  The light’s glow intensified, shifting up through a fiery orange and towards and incandescent white.  A blinding flash drowned out everything else in the room as Kali summoned forth Arbol’s brilliance.<br/>
<br/>
Lucio stumbled forwards to where he thought Kali was, having been temporarily robbed of his sight by the flash.  Kali was already one step ahead.  She had moved quickly to the side and stuck one leg out as Lucio passed.  He tumbled over it and was sent sprawling to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
Kali didn’t let up.  She kneeled on Lucio’s prone form and grasped him by the neck and squeezed.  Lucio should have been able to throw her off but now he was trapped by the weakness of Hélène’s <i>imago</i>.  He clawed ineffectually at her arms.<br/>
<br/>
“Kali, please,” said Lucio.  He sounded completely like Hélène again.  “You are hurting me.  Please stop Kali.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali hesitated for a moment.  Another moment and Lucio might have been able to recover.  Kali stared at the perfect copy of the girl she had failed and found that it only strengthened her resolve.  She strengthened her grip and held on tight until the wheezing, pitiful pleas for help ceased.<br/>
<br/>
Then Kali scrabbled frenziedly at the back of Lucio’s neck, trying to find the seam of Hélène’s skin.  She had to make sure.  Kali pulled away the face of her student, revealing Lucio’s face underneath.<br/>
<br/>
He was dead.<br/>
<br/>
Kali sat on the floor next to the body and burst in to tears.<br/>
<br/>
*****<br/>
<br/>
To stop reading and go to bed: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1510047">Equations with Multiple Solutions</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222112211111111
author_id: imaj
title: Retrograde Motion - Part 9
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Light flooded into the room through the opened door.  Kali looked up from the floor to see a slender figure silhouetted in the doorway.<br/>
<br/>
“She’s in here,” said the figure.  It was a woman’s voice, her English lightly accented.  As she entered the room, Kali was able to make out more details and she recognised the lithe athletic figure of Miko Toyotomi clad in dark red bikers leathers.<br/>
<br/>
Miko looked down at Kali and her stern expression softened.  Her katana scraped the floor as she knelt down.  “Come,” said Miko quietly.  “Let me help you up.” Miko took Kali by the hands and helped her to her feet.  Miko looked into Kali’s eyes.  She held the gaze for several seconds before bowing her head slightly and taking a few steps backwards.<br/>
<br/>
“Evening Kali,” said Nash Carnes as he stepped inside the room.  He pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket.  “You don’t mind if I,” he asked, making a gesture with one.  “Ah, where are my manners?  You want one too?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali shook her head silently.<br/>
<br/>
Nash lit his cigarette and took a draw.  “Look, I know this is difficult,” he said apologetically.  “And you know we got to ask.”  Kali glanced at Miko.  She had one hand resting on the hilt of her Katana.  “We need to know how things went down.  And we need to know where the girl you were training is.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali choked back the tears.  “She’s dead,” she eventually managed to say.  “Lucio used the <i>Calice de Ténèbres</i> on her.”  Kali paused to wipe away the fresh tears.  “There was so little left of her…  I burned it with Arbol’s fire, gave Hélène a pyre.  The ashes are there.”  Kali gestured vaguely at the blackened surface of the old wooden desk.  “Please return her ashes to her family.”<br/>
<br/>
“The Chalice is here,” asked Nash with just a hint of nervousness in his otherwise relaxed voice.<br/>
<br/>
“In that corner,” stated Kali flatly.  Miko glanced at Nash and he nodded.  The Japanese woman moved to where Kali had indicated.  “It’s in a wooden box,” said Kali.  “And it looks like.”  She stifled another sob.  “A drinking straw.”<br/>
<br/>
“What happened to Lucio,” asked Nash.<br/>
<br/>
“I killed him,” said Kali, looking directly into Nash’s eyes.  “He intended to kill me, pin the blame on a warlock and use Hélène’s <i>imago</i> to pervert the whole of the <i>Stellae</i>.”<br/>
<br/>
Miko walked back from the corner and placed the wooden box on the desk.  She resumed her position just a few steps in front of Kali.  Again, she put her right hand on the hilt of her katana.<br/>
<br/>
“We already found the warlock,” confirmed Nash.  “For what its worth, what he told us matches with what you said.”  Kali glanced at Miko’s katana again and for the first time noticed that its edge was flecked with blood.<br/>
<br/>
Kali stared at the floor.<br/>
<br/>
“We’ll have to take you to Brennan,” sighed Nash.  “This is all too tangled for me.  He and Father Lewis will get to the bottom of it.”  Nash took off his glasses and cleaned them with a small cloth.  “Aw dammit Kali, I hate having to say this.”<br/>
<br/>
“I know Nash,” said Kali.  She smiled ruefully.<br/>
<br/>
“You try anything and we’ll strike you dead,” said Nash apologetically.  “I’m sorry Kali, I had to say it for forms sake.”<br/>
<br/>
<i>Do it</i>, said a small voice in Kali’s head.  <i>Make them kill you</i>, it continued as she picked up her shoulder bag from the floor.  <i>Anything to make the pain stop</i>.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
The early morning light had worked its way into Kali’s bedroom.  It had already reached the top of her bed, shining brightly onto her face.  Kali was awake, she had been for hours but she did not move from beneath the covers.<br/>
<br/>
Instead she simply replayed the events of Charles’ hastily convened informal court over and over in her head.  It hadn’t taken long to verify her story and once that was done proceedings had taken on a very muted tone.  It had been unanimously agreed that the <i>Calice de Ténèbres</i> was to be locked away permanently in <i>Stellae</i> archives.<br/>
<br/>
Little was said regarding Lucio.  Charles simply declared that he had been corrupted by the Chalice.  Even Father Lewis, who was as cantankerous a man as Kali had met, had bitten his tongue and stayed quiet on the matter.  They never asked what Lucio had said to her.  Kali didn’t want to dwell on the implications of that.<br/>
<br/>
Afterwards, Charles had fallen over himself to accept the blame for Hélène’s death.  It was his fault for sending them to Seattle, he had said.  He should have listened to Kali’s objections, he had said.<br/>
<br/>
And so Kali had been put on a flight back to LA.  She would continue to train new members of the <i>Stellae</i>.  Life would continue as before.<br/>
<br/>
Except that it wouldn’t<br/>
<br/>
Kali simply remembered the words Miko had shared with her before she had boarded the plane:  “The pain will never go away, it will only fade with time.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali finally shed the bedcovers.  She had to pack Hélène’s remaining belongings so they could be sent to her family.  There were a hundred and one other little chores to do.  She could not spend the day in bed feeling sorry for herself.<br/>
<br/>
The phone started ringing.  Kali took the handset from her beside table and sat on the chest at the end of her bed.  “Hello,” she said weakly.<br/>
<br/>
“Hi Kali,” replied a cheerful voice on the other end.  Kali recognised the voice as one of her former pupils.<br/>
<br/>
“Joe,” she said quietly as she ran her free hand along the lid of the chest.  He would be about the same age as Hélène was by now Kali realised, although he had been adopted by Charles and had come to Kali at a much younger age.<br/>
<br/>
“Dad asked me to call,” continued Joe.  “He was worried about you.”<br/>
<br/>
“I am fine Joe,” lied Kali.  “The same as always, just a few more grey hairs.”<br/>
<br/>
“Do you look like that chick from those X-Men films,” asked Joe guilelessly.  “Because that would be pretty hot.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali caught sight of herself smiling faintly in the mirrored closet doors.  She found Joe’s flirting rather sweet, mostly because it was never serious.  The boy never lacked for female company of his own age.  “The last few days have been difficult,” she admitted.<br/>
<br/>
“That sounds like a story.  Sing, O Kalliope, of the last few days, that brought countless difficulties” he said with a little laugh.  “You can tell me about it when I arrive.”<br/>
<br/>
“When you what,” asked Kali, taken aback.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah, Dad wanted me to run a couple of errands in California, thought I’d drop in for a visit” said Joe.  It was a lie, and Kali could tell it was a lie, but it was a lie she was prepared to accept and be thankful for.  “Do you want me to bring anything?”<br/>
<br/>
Kali drummed her fingers on the chest for a moment.  “Do you have a copy of <i>The Shadows of the Planets</i>,” she asked.  “I have… misplaced mine,” lied Kali – she knew that Nash Carnes was taking the ashes of the book to France.<br/>
<br/>
“If I find one I’ll get it for you,” replied Joe.  Kali could tell that he was smiling at the other end of the line.  “They just called my flight.  I’ll give you a call when I touch down in California.”<br/>
<br/>
Kali hung up the phone and ran her hand along the lid of the chest again.  Buried under the lairs of fresh sheeting was the empty skin of Hélène.  Kali still wasn’t sure what impulse had made her snatch it and hide it in her shoulder bag in Seattle.  Perhaps she just wanted something to remind her of her failure – something to encourage her not to make the same mistakes again.<br/>
<br/>
Kali thought about Joe’s harmless flirting again.  He would have been fascinated with Hélène – not just with the girl’s looks but with her Sulva nature.  Joe would have loved to have met someone like Hélène.<br/>
<br/>
Perhaps one day he would.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
<br/>
You put down the last sheet of paper, unsure what to make of this story that Kali has sent to Joe.  A glance at the clock reveals that it is now well after midnight.  You decide to leave the mystery till tomorrow, time to go to bed: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1510047">Equations with Multiple Solutions</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1510047/action/view/chapter_map/11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222
author_id: seuzz
title: Equations with Multiple Solutions
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Maybe it's coincidence, but you run into Ursula near your locker before first period the next morning. You call to her as she passes, but she just rolls her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
First period is math: remedial algebra. You drop heavily into a chair at the front and scratch your cheek with a pretended air of ruefulness. Ian Carpenter, the captain of the basketball team, is the teacher's aide in here, but he's careful to keep "team" and "class" business separated. So when he sits at Mr. Jones's desk, and looks up to find you staring back at him with a mouth opening and shutting like a suffocating fish, it will be the first time today he alludes to your poor study habits: "You forget to do your homework <i>again,</i> Joe?"<br/>
<br/>
You groan and thrash in the desk. "It's not my fault! Frank challenged me to a game of touch football in the back yard last night, said he'd do it for me if I won."<br/>
<br/>
"So what's the problem?"<br/>
<br/>
"I won! Naturally. But he welshed on the bet, said I had to do it myself anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"So why didn't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to let him get away with that kind of bullshit." You cross your arms. "Son of a bitch is going to do it for me one way or another."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think you can <i>make</i> him do it for you," Ian sighs. "And it would be wrong anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"It's wrong of him to welsh on a bet!"<br/>
<br/>
Ian wilts. "You should be on the debate team," he says. "Your logic is cockeyed, but it's always irrefutable."<br/>
<br/>
You'd retort, but you hear a noise behind you, and shut him out. You slide forward in your seat and drop your head onto the desk behind. "Hi, Becky," you grin up at the girl who's just sat down.<br/>
<br/>
She peers down into your upside-down face. "Hi, Joe," she mimics back in the same singsong tone. She runs her fingertips through your hair and tickles your ears. You raise your legs and waggle them in mid-air.<br/>
<br/>
"Up straight, Durras." Mr. Jones strides past and slaps hard at your knee. You slip down with an "Oof!", then struggle back into an upright position. As the teacher goes to the blackboard, you turn around and look Becky direct in the bosom. "What are you doing for lunch?" you ask her breasts.<br/>
<br/>
She grasps your chin and forces your head up. "Hanging out. You?"<br/>
<br/>
You shift all the way around, crouching backward on your knees and resting your elbows on her desk. "Wanna go across the street, nibble on something sweet?" You lean in close.<br/>
<br/>
A hand grabs the back of your shirt and tugs; you make melodramatic choking noises as you're dragged back. Reluctantly, you turn around. "I put you up front so you'd pay attention, Durras," Jones says. He jerks his chin at the blackboard. "Up there, if you please."<br/>
<br/>
"You had me do the problems yesterday," you protest.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, and what a hit it was with the class." Titters run through the room. "Never change a winning formula. Up."<br/>
<br/>
Heavily, you trudge to the front and pick up the chalk. Behind the teacher, Ian cups his chin in his palm and leans back with a smile. You give him a dirty look.<br/>
<br/>
"Two a minus seven b equals thirteen," says Jones. "Write it out." You comply, and stand back to regard it with an agonized expression. "Four a plus two b equals--" You erase the equation and start writing the new one. "What are you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"I wrote it down wrong."<br/>
<br/>
"You had it right. This is the other part." He gives you both equations, to your apparent puzzlement. "Now solve."<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Both of them?</i>" you exclaim in horror. The chalk slips from your fingers and shatters on the floor.<br/>
<br/>
"It's one problem," Jones says, his own voice rising in frustration. "Haven't you been paying attention for the past month?"<br/>
<br/>
"I wanna lawyer before I answer that," you mutter. The front row breaks out in guffaws.<br/>
<br/>
He shows you how to do it, and asks you to do it again on your own. On your first try you transpose the letters; on your second you manage to introduce "d" as a third term; on the last try, you step back with a triumphant proof that thirteen times seven is equal to twenty-eight. "I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it," Jones sighs as he studies the mess of figures. By now he looks even more agonized than you.<br/>
<br/>
"Do <i>you</i> get this stuff," you whisper to Becky as class ends.<br/>
<br/>
She scrunches her face up and shakes her head. "I can do the simple stuff, but when you start getting things like more than one letter in a problem, I just totally lose it. Maybe we could start studying together?"<br/>
<br/>
"Leave him to me, Miss Torres," Jones says from a few feet back. "If he baffles me, heaven only knows what he'll do to you."<br/>
<br/>
"I know what <i>I'd</i> like to do to you," you mutter at him in a voice low enough that only Becky will hear it.<br/>
<br/>
She manages to misunderstand in a delightful way. "What would you like to do to me, Joe?" she giggles.<br/>
<br/>
You put your hand on her ass. "I'd like to have lunch with you. Munsons. I'll get rid of Frank."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I wonder what it's like being smart," Becky says after you've sat at a table at the bakery across the street from the school. She's contented herself with an ice tea while you play with the cinnamon roll with your fork. "Like, knowing everything that's going on."<br/>
<br/>
"You just feel dumb about other things," you reply. You scrape up a little frosting. "Frank looks as dumb as me with that calculus stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"It would be nice to have smarter things to be dumb about," she says. "You know?"<br/>
<br/>
You put the fork to her mouth. She shakes her head, but you brush the frosting onto her lips. She grimaces and licks it off. You give an exasperated sigh and repeat the trick. Before she can lick it off again, you lean in and kiss it off for her.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess you're not so dumb where it counts," a voice says from behind, and you look up to see Ian and Alyssa Randal. <br/>
<br/>
"I'm smarter than some people," you grumble as they join you.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, Geoff thinks it's just an act with you," Alyssa says in a knowing tone. She takes half of the sandwich off her plate, and pushes the other half over to Ian. "He thinks you play it up because of your brother."<br/>
<br/>
"Dunholm's so smart," you mutter. "If I had most of his brain I'd <i>still</i> only be half as smart as him."<br/>
<br/>
There's silence as Ian runs the arithmetic through his head. "Yeah," he says with a slow sigh. "A lot of people wouldn't quarrel with that approximation."<br/>
<br/>
"When's the next quiz," Becky asks nervously. Ian shrugs. "Because--"<br/>
<br/>
She goes on to complain about her parents and her grades, but your eye is caught by Alyssa: She has noticeably stiffened, and you follow her gaze. Outside, Lawrence Farmer is talking with Lisa Rickover. You watch them until they part. Lawrence disappears, but Lisa comes in. She nods coolly at Alyssa before going up to the counter. You execute a series of complex mental equations with a rapidity that would leave Jones lost and dumbfounded.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's going on with Hannah and Jordan," you ask Alyssa. "Because at practice today he was--" Someone kicks you under the table. It could have been any of the other three, but it was probably Ian. <br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, Joe," Alyssa says with casual indifference.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, come on," you protest. "If his head isn't together by the time--" Another, sharper kick. "Well, put it this way," you say, regrouping. "Would Frank have a chance with her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is <i>Frank</i> interested in Hannah?" Alyssa asks, and she jumps a little in her chair. <i>Yes, it must be Ian sending subterranean messages.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I wish Frank would get interested in <i>someone,</i>" you grumble. "It would get him out of the house and out of my hair. Hi Lisa!" you call to the girl. She flashes a tight smile and sails out the door with a brown bag. "Why is she so cold?" <br/>
<br/>
"She knows when she's not welcome," Alyssa says.<br/>
<br/>
<i>And there's the missing term: One of Alyssa's little foot soldiers has been telling tales out of school, and has just been caught at it.</i> "I should talk to her," you say. "Maybe <i>she</i> knows what's going on with Hannah and--"<br/>
<br/>
Three kicks, all at once. Ian, Alyssa, and Becky exchange startled glances. You grab the edge of Becky's chair and drag her close. "Flirt," you say in a teasingly accusatory tone.<br/>
<br/>
"So who <i>is</i> Frank interested in," Alyssa asks. "Hannah? Really?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. Ask Geoff." You concentrate on Becky. "Maybe he'll say Frank pretends to be dumb about girls because he's so intimidated by <i>me.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
There's another one of those pauses. "You know the word 'intimidated'?" Ian asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Did I say something wrong?" you ask in a panic.<br/>
<br/>
"No, you said it too damn right."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So what's going on with Hannah and Jordan," you had asked Alyssa. Simultaneously, inside your head:<br/>
<br/>
<b>Becky wonders what it is like being smart.</b> <i>Lawrence is Alyssa's great "gossip" rival at the school.</i> <b>You've got a mask of Darcy, who is smart.</b> <i>Lawrence would love to have a spy inside Alyssa's ring.</i> <b>Let Becky try on Darcy's mask; tempt her with other goodies.</b> <i>He'd love to have a source that's more reliable than Lisa; tempt him with possibilities.</i> <b>Becky would be one recruit. You can look for two more.</b> <i>Lawrence would be one recruit. You can look for two more.</i><br/>
<br/>
Solution: Recruit both Becky and Lawrence, but separately.<br/>
<br/>
* Talk to Lawrence first (non-canonical): "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/2236945/action/view/chapter_map/111231222122122121111122211112211212222112222" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 2236945">Southern Comforts</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/2236945/action/view/chapter_map/111231222122122121111122211112211212222112222" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a></span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222112222
author_id: imaj
title: Southern Comforts
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It takes a little invention, creativity and ultimately some outright lying to find an excuse to linger in the bakery a little while longer after Alyssa, Ian and Becky left to return to school.  Becky got another kiss, of course, Alyssa and Ian had to make do with a dirty look.<br/>
<br/>
Lawrence is still lurking outside when you leave.  You suspected he might be.  “Get lost on your way to the door Joe,” he snarks.<br/>
<br/>
You give him an easy smile.  “Nah, there was a sign above the door,” you reply innocently.  “Just got to worry about getting back to class now,” you continue, wrinkling your brow in honest concern.<br/>
<br/>
Lawrence narrows his eyes, trying to work out if you are genuinely that stupid or are gently winding him up.  It’s the latter, of course, and an inevitable consequence of you giving Joe’s personality free reign.  “You can’t miss it,” he says caustically, nodding in the direction of the school.  “Just like I couldn’t miss you and Becky’s little performance today.”<br/>
<br/>
You smile dozily.  “We have so much in common,” you say.  “Like you and Lisa,” you add with deliberate tactlessness.  “I don’t understand why Alyssa isn’t happier for you two.”<br/>
<br/>
Your deliberate misinterpretation of events has the effect of wiping the smirk from Lawrence’s face.  “Alyssa thinks she knows what’s best for me,” he says stonily.<br/>
<br/>
“Does that mean you and Lisa won’t be seeing each other again,” you ask guilelessly, giving Lawrence time to think over the <i>real</i> meaning of what you’ve asked.  “Aw, that’s a shame.”  You take a couple of steps along the sidewalk.  “You would have made a nice couple.  Plenty of other girls out there though.  I like that about this school.”<br/>
<br/>
You can practically feel Lawrence rolling his eyes behind you.  “Yeah, well, Lisa was special,” he replies, his voice dripping with contemptuous sarcasm.<br/>
<br/>
“I mean there’s Maddy,” you say, blithely ignoring him.  You turn round and count the names off on your fingers.  “Tina, she’s sweet.  Mandy and Natalie of course.  And Summer, she’s so innocent and adorable.”<br/>
<br/>
“Those are all Alyssa’s friends,” interrupts Lawrence.  His eyes narrow again.<br/>
<br/>
“Are they,” you ask, letting the ghost of a smirk play across your mouth.  “Isn’t that the kind of girl you’re looking for?”  You turn away from Lawrence again.  You barely get two steps away from him before he grabs you by your shoulder and spins you round.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re not as dumb as you make out are you,” he asks looking you directly in the eye.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not,” you ask, perplexity etched all over your face.  “That’s not what Frank says:  Dumb old Joe.”  You let the sentence hang the air for a second before adding:  “Of course, if I wasn’t as dumb as everyone thinks I am I might know a way to get you a new source inside Alyssa’s circle.”  You return his stare and you can almost him working out the angles.<br/>
<br/>
“That would be quite the morsel of news,” drawls Lawrence.  “A lot of people would be surprised to find that out.”  It’s not the best blackmail attempt ever, but you have to at least credit him for thinking on his feet.<br/>
<br/>
“Not true though, is it,” you reply with another dazzling smile.  “Everyone knows me – nice but dim…”  Lawrence scowls at you.  “If I were able to help you get inside the head of one of Alyssa’s friends,” you say very quietly.  “It would be on <i>my</i> terms.”<br/>
<br/>
“Get inside their heads,” repeats Lawrence, more than a little puzzled at your phrasing.<br/>
<br/>
“That is what you want,” you say a little louder, maintaining the smile.  “Get inside and scoop out all the gossip there.”  You spin back around and take a few steps towards the school before stopping and staring at an empty parking spot at the side of the road.  “I knew I passed a yellow car on the way here,” you say half to yourself.  “Dammit, where’s it gone.  Now I’m lost…”<br/>
<br/>
“What do I do,” shouts Lawrence after you.<br/>
<br/>
You turn round one last time.  “Come see me after school,” you mouth.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
“So this is your house,” asks Lawrence as you lead him inside.  “Nice,” he adds in a tone of voice that clearly indicates he is lying.  “Where’s your brother.”<br/>
<br/>
“Out,” you snarl impatiently.  You sent the Frank golem off to buy more mask making supplies.  You were lucky you had a blank in your book bag, and luckier still that you ran into a suitable subject for it after lunch, but you’ll need more masks soon – especially if you want to meet Patterson’s target of three new juniors.  “Grab a seat,” you add, indicating one of the chairs in the living room.  “You want a drink or something?”<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not very sociable,” says Lawrence, perching catlike on one of the chairs.  “At least not with people like you.”  <i>Asshole</i>.  “You said something about getting inside Alyssa’s friends heads.”  He folds his arms primly.  “Are you actually able to help me with that or are you just wasting my time.”<br/>
<br/>
“I got one of their heads right here,” you say patting your book satchel.  Lawrence makes his scepticism plain on his face.  “Okay,” you say holding up your hands.  “It’s actually a copy of her head.” <i>And all the rest of her</i>. “But it’s totally as good as the real deal.”  <br/>
<br/>
Lawrence makes to get up and leave but you cover the distance between the two of you blindingly, impossibly, fast and push him back down into the chair.  “How did you…” he asks quietly.<br/>
<br/>
<i>A good question</i>, you think to yourself.  Just how did you manage to move that fast?  “Here,” you say, managing to keep your surprise off your face as you open your book satchel and take out the mask.  You hand it to him.  “Take a look at this.”<br/>
<br/>
He holds the mask fastidiously, turning it carefully over in his hands.  “It’s a good likeness,” he says.  “I’m  not sure how you get the picture to stay like that.  I’m also not sure what good a picture of Tina Branson does me.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s not just a picture,” you explain.  You’d really hoped to get Maddy Carron, or at least a small sliver of Joe’s persona had really hoped to get Maddy Carron.  When Tina interrupted your afternoon nap in the Library on some flimsy pretence to cover that she was snooping for Alyssa you decided to grab her instead.  Tina and her accent is a poor consolation prize compared to Maddy and what Joe likes to think of as ‘the twins’ but you are beginning to suspect you wouldn’t like Maddy with Lawrence running the show in any case.  “Look at the back again.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh, yes,” he says flatly.  “Look, it says Tina Branson just in case I didn’t recognise her.”<br/>
<br/>
“Look a little closer,” you explain.  Lawrence rolls his eyes.  You stare at him till he looks down at the mask.  He lets out a little gasp of surprise.  “I know, they are <i>floating </i>above the surface aren’t they.  And before you ask,” you continue, slipping smoothly into Joe’s ‘lecture mode’ of speaking.  “Magic, any technology sufficiently advanced, aliens – call it whatever you want to.  The important thing is you have a copy of Tina’s head there.  If you want to get inside Tina’s head, then you literally put your head inside:  Put the mask to your face.”<br/>
<br/>
Lawrence lifts the mask up then stops, holding it just short of his face.  “Why Tina,” he asks.<br/>
<br/>
“Isn’t it obvious,” you reply, letting Joe’s ability to lie and improvise on the spot loose.  “No one would ever suspect Tina of sharing Alyssa’s secrets.”<br/>
<br/>
Lawrence nods.  “You’re right,” he admits.  “I just hold this against my face?”  You smile another bright smile and it is enough to persuade him to don the mask.  Lawrence topples over and falls the floor face first, a mass of scarlet waves erupting around his head.<br/>
<br/>
You sit opposite his slumbering body and wait.<br/>
<br/>
After a few minutes Lawrence props himself up, rising unsteadily to his feet.  “What the…” he stutters as he notices the lustrous red hair framing his face.  It is Tina’s voice, but robbed of its characteristic accent it sounds strange.  Lawrence does a double take as he looks down, noticing for the first time where Tina’s breasts have pushed out and stretched his shirt.<br/>
<br/>
“I did say I could get you inside her head,” you laugh.<br/>
<br/>
“And the rest of her too, it seem,” replies Lawrence, rolling his eyes again.<br/>
<br/>
“Relax, it isn’t permanent,” you explain.  “Try feeling for her memories.  They’ll be like a…” you struggle to think how you can explain about the copy of Tina’s persona Lawrence is carrying around inside himself now.<br/>
<br/>
“Ah would say it’s like a warm old coat sugah,” interrupts Lawrence in Tina’s southern twang.  He smiles sweetly, just like Tina would and you laugh. You watch as he stares into space for a second, presumably picking through her memories for anything useful.<br/>
<br/>
“What do you think,” you ask.<br/>
<br/>
“Ah could get used to this,” says Lawrence, kneeling down in front of you.  With one soft hand he unzips your fly and reaches inside your pants.<br/>
<br/>
“What are you doing,” you ask, almost jumping out of your seat.<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t you want a reward sweetie,” asks Lawrence, fluttering Tina’s eyelashes at you.  “One good turn deserves another.”</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122221122221
author_id: seuzz
title: Two Seductions
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Whoa whoa whoa," you gasp, and rear back in your chair. "I know what you look like under that mask, dude."<br/>
<br/>
"Does it mattah if it's me or Tina?"<br/>
<br/>
Joe is good at thinking quickly and liquidly, but the prospect of sex has a way of addling him. It has a way of addling you too, and anyway there are far too many variables in the present equation to admit of a fast and intuitive solution. Maybe Lawrence really has been overpowered by Tina's mask; or maybe he's attempting some kind of angle; or maybe he's honestly expressing an interest that he and Tina both share. "That's not really necessary," you weakly protest.<br/>
<br/>
"Then maybe Ah just wants to do it," she grins.<br/>
<br/>
You groan and slouch back in the chair even as you stretch and spread your legs. Your cock--a golden pillar--rises until it's fully rigid. Tina shuffles forward and slowly takes it in her mouth, running a hot and wet tongue up and down the sensitive underside of the shaft. You choke a little and clutch at your hair.<br/>
<br/>
She's good. She knows what she's doing. Well, <i>someone</i> knows what he or she is doing. You shut your eyes and try to shut out the picture of <i>Lawrence Farmer</i> giving you a blow job. It's Tina, dammit, it's <i>Tina</i> who's doing it. That's how come she came to find you in the library. She wasn't scoping you out for Alyssa, she was scoping you out for herself. She's sweet on you. They're all sweet on you. This was what she was wanting, she'd have done it to you under the table in the library if--<br/>
<br/>
You clench your eyes shut, but they still cross slightly as a throbbing power works its way up from the base of your shaft. Your legs tremble as you lift your feet off the ground. <i>Oh, by the power of--!</i> Carefully, you put a hand on the back of her head. "Sweetie, things are about to get a little busy down there--" you gasp. And then--<br/>
<br/>
Well, it's damned awkward letting go of yourself in that chair, and you have to grab at one of the chair's legs. You also hook one of your own legs around and over Tina's ass. Your breath comes in short, sharp puffs as you thrust up and down weakly. The release isn't as explosive as you'd have liked, but she brought you up too fast, and in your current position you can't really lay into it the way you'd like. She runs her tongue and lips and the tips of her teeth up and down your cock, encouragingly. When you're spent, she raises her face and gives you a crooked grin as she goes into the kitchen. "What are you doing?" you call after her.<br/>
<br/>
"Whores swallow. Ladies spit," she calls back.<br/>
<br/>
"You're no lady," you grumble in the back of your throat. "Who told you that," you call more loudly after her. "Your grandmother?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, please," she shouts back over the sound of running water in the sink. "If Mummy Higgins evah knew what Ah just did--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, there's a lot of things Mummy Higgins might be shocked by if she ever found out about them." You get up, wincing slightly, and hop down the hall to the bathroom, where you wipe yourself off with some Kleenex and then tuck yourself back in. You look in the mirror. There's a slightly feverish look in your eyes, and your hair is sticking out to the side, leaving you looking a little like a blond Bozo, and you smooth it all back down. Ruefully, you give yourself a congratulatory grin. That was one unexpected dividend on the afternoon.<br/>
<br/>
Tina is back in the dining room when you return, holding Lawrence's pants up with one hand as she looks around with a distracted expression. "You have any paper or a notebook or anything, sugah," she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"I wanna take some notes while Ah'm heah."<br/>
<br/>
"Who said you'd be leaving soon?"<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes narrow. "Are you suggesting Ah might spend the night?" No, but if she--he--is willing-- You shrug noncommittally. "Mm. You all are gonna make me <i>work</i> for it, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"You can leave that work to <i>me,</i> honey," you reply, and step forward to cradle the side of her face. "I'll nibble you all over."<br/>
<br/>
And then the door opens and Frank steps in with a couple of sacks. His eyes go from you to Tina, and go up and down her frame. He keeps a poker face. "Joe, do I really want to ask?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, you know Lawrence Farmer, Frank." You step around Tina and put an arm around her shoulder; she has tensed. "You have a couple of classes with him, I think."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh," Frank says dryly, and closes the door behind him. "So I got that stuff you sent me out for. For our road trip to-- Lemuria, was it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft, forget all that. I had a mask all ready to go, and I just showed it to Lawrence. Oh, you don't have to be shy around Frank, dude," you tell Tina. "He knows all about this stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"Really," Tina drawls slowly. "Does <i>he</i> charge for this service too?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um." You suck on your lips. Of course, there is no reason to force Lawrence to "service" golem-Frank as well. On the other hand, now that you've thought of it, you're more than a little tempted to take advantage of the situation in lots of ways. Frank is lean and taut and strong and rigid, and he's into the whole self-denial thing, so he's probably all twisted up on the inside with banked desires; it might be a lot of fun to switch into his mask and hammer yourself between Tina's legs like an iron spike. "I guess that's negotiable," you lamely reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Negotiable how?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, this I gotta hear," Frank says. He drops into the chair you had vacated only a few minutes ago. He crosses his legs and folds his arms and fixes a hard gaze on you. He looks much more masterful than any golem should have a right to look.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, man, I guess it's like this," you say. You sit in another chair and gently pull Tina onto your lap. You loosely clasp your arms around her. "Do you <i>like</i> being Tina Branson?"<br/>
<br/>
"What kind of a question is that?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"It's just like what it sounds like," you shrug. "You don't have her clothes, but you're sitting inside her mind and inside her body--well, a copy of it--and you can see what it's like to <i>be</i> her. To have her friends and her family and her classes and her hobbies and her interests, and all the other things she has." You draw her a little closer. "You could also get yourself some things that she doesn't currently have. You'd just have to step in and ... replace her."<br/>
<br/>
She doesn't flinch, but she can't look you in the face, either. "You mean get rid of her? The real Tina?" Her voice is quiet, and she's trying to keep a neutral tone, but you can easily sense the fear in it.<br/>
<br/>
"In a manner of speaking," you say. "It wouldn't be bad for her. She'd just go to sleep for a little while. And she'd wake up again when you were ready to let her have her life back. Kind of a Rip van Winkle thing."<br/>
<br/>
"And what about ... Lawrence Fahmer? What about him and his life?" she asks. You can't tell if she's referring to herself in the third person because she's tempted to become Tina, or if she's just trying to keep names and pronouns straight.<br/>
<br/>
"He doesn't go away. We make up a fake version of him, kind of like a robot. He lives Lawrence's life, and when you're ready to go back to it, we make the robot go away. It's all very easy and natural. Well, natural-<i>seeming,</i> because it's all pretty occult."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, Ah've noticed. Is this <i>magic,</i> or is it <i>advanced technology?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Could you tell the difference?"<br/>
<br/>
"And how do <i>you two</i> know all about it?"<br/>
<br/>
"That doesn't matter. The point is that we do, and that we're willing to share it."<br/>
<br/>
She looks at you searchingly. "Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because it's fun."<br/>
<br/>
You see the question forming even before she asks it. "Are you really Joe Durras? Is he really Frank Durras?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course. Who else would we be? You think any of the idiots at Eastman could have figured out this stuff? We brought it with us when he moved here."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, but--"<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't matter. We are who we are."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm." She looks away and bites her lip. "And what would Ah have to do for you, exactly?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's what's negotiable." You don't want to push him into any kind of scheme; you want to make it attractive to him. "If you want, you could just take those notes. Spend the night with me--letting me do all the work--and then tomorrow you go back to school as Lawrence Farmer. Or you could stay on as Tina. We could put her to sleep and you could go back to school as her. Make trouble for Alyssa from <i>inside</i> her group. We can make up more masks for you. You can use them to also get inside Maddy Caron and Lisa Rickover, or even inside Alyssa herself."<br/>
<br/>
You can see the hunger in her eyes. "And what's the price for <i>that?</i>"</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222211
author_id: seuzz
title: When Tina Met Tina
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Be my girl?" You ask the question gently, making it sound like an invitation.<br/>
<br/>
Tina--Lawrence--bursts out laughing. "Ah'd like that," she says. She giggles, and then her smile fades a little. "Well, <i>Tina</i> would like that." She looks at you, and there's no missing the ambiguity in the glint in her eye. "Ah suppose that as long as Ah was being Tina then Ah could convince myself that Ah'd like that too." She leans over to nuzzle your neck. Frank catches your eye and cocks an eyebrow; you flush a little. Tina pulls back, and now most of the mirth is definitely gone from her expression. "Alyssa would like that too," she says in a tone that suggests that what Alyssa wants is definitely not what <i>Lawrence</i> wants."<br/>
<br/>
"Why would Alyssa like that?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"She thinks you need taming. <i>Someone should tell Joe he's not as cute as he thinks he is.</i>" <br/>
<br/>
It's a pretty good imitation of Alyssa, and your flush deepens. "I think I'm <i>very</i> cute. Which must mean I'm still plenty cute enough."<br/>
<br/>
"You won't get any argument from me, sugah," she sighs, and nibbles at you again.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll just put this stuff in the garage," Frank says, rising and picking up the bags. "I'd hate to watch you try to buy a used car, Joe," he says as he passes, and kicks at your foot. "With you, negotiations always wind up looking like foreplay."<br/>
<br/>
"You wanna piss Alyssa off," you ask Tina after he's gone, for you've had a sudden idea. "Then be my girl, but don't be Tina."<br/>
<br/>
"Be your--? Well, who would you want me to be? And Ah think Ah'd like bein' Tina," she grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Be all of them. Be Maddy and Mandy and Natalie and even Alyssa. Flirt with me--blow me--from inside <i>all</i> of them."<br/>
<br/>
She rears back, her mouth forming a perfect "o." "So <i>that's</i> what this is about. You just want--"<br/>
<br/>
Well, <i>yeah.</i> That's Patterson's plan, after all, and the asshole has a point. "There has to be something in it for both of us," you say. "On your side, think of the trouble it would cause for them. You and me--you being them--put on some really hardcore PDAs. Word gets around. Of course, the real girls deny anything happened, but too many people would have seen." <br/>
<br/>
You grin, and she grins back, and you hope your grin isn't as evil looking as hers. "Could make trouble for you, too, sugah," she observes.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I'd just be an innocent victim of all the confusion, too," you say. "And I wouldn't follow up with the real girls. Why would I? I woulda got what I wanted. Woulda gotten it from <i>you.</i> Then I'd be on to the next one on the list. The next one on <i>your</i> list." You touch her nose.<br/>
<br/>
She frowns. "So Ah wouldn't get to be Tina. Not permanently."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course you could. You'd just switch into them temporarily. And being Tina would  be the easiest way of scoring copies of her friends."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm." She turns to gaze off into the distance. "And yoah brother? Ah make the same deal with him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Your deal is with <i>me.</i> With Frank--" You see another angle worth playing. "Can you think of anyone else who'd like to play this game? Someone who might be willing to make a deal with Frank?" You still want Becky as a second recruit, but Lawrence might know someone who could make a third.<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes widen. "Well, Ah'd have to think about it."<br/>
<br/>
"You do that. In the meantime-- Hey, what are you doing back there?" you holler over her head, and she winces.<br/>
<br/>
"You talkin' to me?" Frank calls back after a pause.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah! You jackin' off or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's wound too tight for that kind of thing," Tina murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"You <i>have</i> been watching us, haven't you?" you laugh. You look around her head as a very grave-looking Frank appears in the doorway. "What are you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Getting things set up,"  he says. "I figured you'd want to do some work, but maybe I figured wrong." He frowns at Tina.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I should," you sigh. "Listen, honey," you say as you stand up, and she slides off your lap. "I gotta get things set up for you. You wanna go home as Tina tonight, or do you wanna just spend the night?" As soon as you've spoken, you regret even offering the choice, for her pants have slid down, exposing the tops of some very firm and lovely thighs. <br/>
<br/>
"The soonah the bettah, as fah as Ah'm concerned," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. Then you can go watch TV or something while I--" You make a face, for she is already disappearing into the living room. A moment later comes the sound of the TV coming on. Well, you're only interested in the <i>sex</i>, not her--his--attention.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"You guys don't have people over to your place that much, do you?" Tina says as you pull up in front of the house. It's the real girl, of course.<br/>
<br/>
"What makes you say that," you ask, and then laugh. "Oh, so you and the other girls have been gossiping about Frank and me's social life!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we just  haven't--" She stops and looks a little flustered.<br/>
<br/>
"We'll have to have you out more often," you say, and pick up the bag of food. You'd proposed burgers, of course, but she had managed to demur and somehow had gotten you to spring for Thai instead. A greater expense than you can afford on the boys' tight budget, but you can probably get a rebate from her replacement.<br/>
<br/>
She doesn't say anything as she walks with you toward the door, but you can see her scoping it out: the poky little bungalow in a rundown section of town close to the university. "Yeah," you drawl. "We don't got a real nice place like <i>some</i> people do."<br/>
<br/>
"Ah didn't say anything, Joe," she protests, and blushes a little deeper. She looks adorable, and you nudge her playfully.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you can tell people all about it anyway. And we got the run of the place. Dad's off on a business trip, he'll be away for a couple of weeks, so it's just me and Frank." You open the door and usher  her in. "So if we wanna party--" You stop cold at the sight of a grim-looking Frank, who's standing just off the entry way. "Well, maybe we'll have to get rid of this guy too." You close the door with your foot.<br/>
<br/>
"Why would we wanna do that?" Tina says. "Ah like havin' a couple of good-lookin' guys around. Ah could call a couple of the girls and have 'em come over. If you all don' mind."<br/>
<br/>
"We already have some company for you, sugah," a softly malicious voice says from the hallway.<br/>
<br/>
You whirl: Another Tina Branson--this one quite naked--is standing there, grinning at the company.<br/>
<br/>
You drop the food, and the cartons split open, spilling and splattering thick curries everywhere. "The fuck are you--?" Beside you, the real Tina sucks in a sharp breath. "Frank, grab her!" The golem steps toward the naked one. "Not that one!" You throw one arm around Tina and slap a hand over her mouth before she can start screaming. "What the fuck are you doing?" you roar at Lawrence.<br/>
<br/>
"Ah wanted to see her face," Lawrence giggles. He cups his face in his hands. "It's so adoh'able. And it's going to be mine! Along with all th' rest!" He cradles his boobs.<br/>
<br/>
"I told you to--!" Tina squirms in your arms. "Frank, take care of this one for me!" You hurl her at the golem, who puts her in an unnaturally strong lock. You feel your hair stand on end as you step toward Lawrence. He takes a step back, but you're too fast, and shove him so hard he falls onto the floor with a cry. You drop onto him. "I took that thing off you so we could use it to--!" Your words vanish in a gurgle of fury.<br/>
<br/>
"I put it back on because I wanted to--" Tina's mannerisms vanish, and then her face vanishes as you grab at the mask and rip it away. Lawrence Farmer reappears.<br/>
<br/>
"Of all the fucking stupid things to do," you growl as you wheel to advance on Tina. She shrinks back against Frank, who drops his hand so you can slam the mask onto her. She collapses in a faint. "Get her on the couch. Why didn't you stop him?"<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't tell me to," Frank says coolly. "I suspected it was a bad idea, but--" He sweeps Tina up in his arms, and is so strong he can shrug while holding her. <br/>
<br/>
"So I have to do the thinking for both of us, even when I'm not here. You were stupid when you were yourself, Frank, and you're even stupider as a golem."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you ordering me to be stupider?" he asks with preternatural mildness.<br/>
<br/>
"I can't order the impossible, or I'd order you to be smarter. Get her clothes off her. If you can bring yourself to enjoy it, so much the better." You turn away from the hooded look he gives you. "Where'd we put-- Oh, there it is." From the dining room table you snatch up the mask you'd made of Lawrence. It has all the ingredients for the golem shell inside it, and a bit of his hair is nearby. You pick it up as well, but pause before dropping it inside the mask.<br/>
<br/>
You're getting rid of Tina anyway, so his boneheaded play is easily fixable. Still, you'd much rather that Tina had <i>not</i> seen a double of herself, for it would make it easier to reintroduce the real girl to the world, if that ever comes to pass. You're also supremely pissed at Lawrence for what he did. Maybe it would be a good idea to keep the fake Lawrence under your own control. At the very least, it would show him who's boss.</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222112222111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Cock Up
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Two Lawrence Farmers, working in tandem? Definitely a bad idea. You flick his lock of hair away and, without thinking, pluck out some of your own and toss it into the mask with the other ingredients, then get a match from the kitchen. You take the still-flaming mask into the garage to get a brush, and after the fire has gone out you coat the insides of the mask with the goop.<br/>
<br/>
You're still painting it when you get back into the living room, where you find Frank sitting next to a naked Tina. "Get her into the bedroom," you order, and after dropping the mask onto the sofa you follow him far enough down the hallway to grasp the still-unconscious Lawrence by the ankles--doing your best to ignore the thing between his legs--and drag him into the living room. "And bring me Tina's mask when it comes out of her," you holler to Frank, and under your breath curse the golem again for its stupidity.<br/>
<br/>
You occupy yourself as you wait by cleaning up the mess of food. <i>Twenty seven bucks, splattered all over the place.</i> You'll take it out of Lawrence's hide. <i>One pound of flesh from over his heart for each dollar,</i> you mutter to yourself as you scrub at the carpet with a mess of paper towels.<br/>
<br/>
You hear Lawrence stirring at the same time that Frank comes back out. You take Tina's mask from him and glare over your shoulder at Lawrence. He at least has the grace to look abashed, even as he lowers his head and stares moodily at the carpet. With a spasm of anger you consider reneging on your arrangement with him. But you're in this far, and you need to get rid of Tina anyway. <br/>
<br/>
You stalk over to him, to glare down with a cold fury. "So, are you ready for me now," he asks without looking up, and can't keep the insolent whine out of his voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up. We had a bargain, but I'm in charge. Remember that. Not you, and not Frank. I'm the only one who knows how this shit works. And if I want to make <i>you</i> disappear, I can. Remember that too." He stares back from under lowered brows. "And you pay a price for that little stunt earlier. So I'm telling you <i>what</i> to do and <i>who</i> to get."<br/>
<br/>
"Who?" he asks guardedly.<br/>
<br/>
"I want five masks." You splay out the fingers of one hand, and tick them off one by one as you list the names. "Mandy. Maddy. Natalie. Summer. And Alyssa."<br/>
<br/>
"That's who I wanted to copy anyway."<br/>
<br/>
You push him back to the floor with your foot. "And you give me a good time with each of them. Long and intimate. I got a friend, too. You'll give him the same."<br/>
<br/>
"Frank?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I'll tell you when the time comes."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Sending a little tribute Patterson's way should help keep him off your back.</i><br/>
<br/>
You hold out the mask. "The first thing you're going to remember when you get this on," you warn him, "is seeing your own doppelganger coming out of that bedroom. And then you're going to remember me and Frank grabbing you. It's not going to be fun."<br/>
<br/>
"I hope not," Lawrence says. "I wanna feel <i>exactly</i> what she felt when she saw me."<br/>
<br/>
A shiver goes down your spine. <br/>
<br/>
He takes the mask, and shifts it lightly from one hand to the other, as though it's hot. He swallows and licks his lips, and his nostrils flare. He raises it to his face, but pauses. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his cock go taut and straight. It rises higher and higher, and is fully extended before he presses the mask in those last few inches. It disappears into his face, and he falls back to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
A warm glow appears around his body, and beneath it his form seems to shift and distend. You can't see any actual alterations--it looks like a new appearance sheathing and enclosing Farmer's body--and after a few seconds the glow evaporates. <br/>
<br/>
Tina Branson is now laying on the floor.<br/>
<br/>
Her face is drawn and pale, and her hair is disheveled, but she doesn't look unpretty, even as her head lolls and her mouth drops open. She breathes heavily, and your eye goes down to her chest, and to the two taut, grapefruit-sized breasts there. Her shoulders and arms are slim, and darker below the elbow than above it, but with no unsightly tan lines. Her hips are attractively wide, and her legs well-shaped, though there's something about the knees that you find slightly off-putting: they have a boniness that seems out of place. You pick up one of her feet, to massage it. But you quickly drop it again. You don't want Lawrence to wake up and find you being affectionate.<br/>
<br/>
As he's still unconscious, you go into the bedroom long enough to drop Lawrence's mask onto Tina, but don't linger long enough to watch the reverse of the transformation you've just witnessed, but return directly to the living room and finish cleaning up. Lawrence--now Tina, again--takes a deep breath not long after you've finished, and rubs his eyes. You watch carefully--and curiously--to see what she does. She just lays there quietly for a minute, and then sits up. Unconsciously, perhaps, she crosses her legs and folds her arms across her torso as she turns toward you. Her eyes go wide. And then a little half-smile creeps up the side of her face. "It's perfect," she says quietly. "You and Frank really scared the crap out of me."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm glad you had fun. Your clothes are over there."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you all wanna take advantage of me?"<br/>
<br/>
"We can save that for later. Get dressed. Who are you going to copy first?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can get to anyone, sugah. Who do you want first?"<br/>
<br/>
"Surprise me. But don't do any of that cackling evil stuff. We're not going to be replacing them, like we're doing with Tina. You're going to have to pretend that they just fainted or something when you put a mask on them. Now will you get those clothes on?"<br/>
<br/>
She smiles tightly and complies. First, of course, are the panties and bra, and such is Lawrence's perversity that he gives you a full-frontal view as they go on. Then Tina's slim, tight, designer jeans. The crisp white blouse. The black velvet jacket. "Ya'll have a brush?"<br/>
<br/>
"In the bathroom. Lemme muss you up a little more first." You catch her by the elbow and roughly draw her close. You kiss her hard, and she kisses lustily back, whimpering a little as you devour her. "You like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're better than I'd hoped." She digs her fingernails into your back. "You're going to make it fun, aren't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm going to make you scream," you say, and nip her hard just behind her ear. She squeals. You push her away, and send her to the bathroom with a hard slap on her ass.<br/>
<br/>
Lawrence is a snake, and you're pretty sure he's planning on using these feminine wiles against you somehow. Maybe he won't have any kind of plan--what kind of plan might it be?--but you can bet he'll try twisting you around five sets of slim and delectable fingers. While he's gone you root around Tina's purse, and extract seventeen dollars and some change--a start on compensation.<br/>
<br/>
She reappears, looking a little more put together but still tousled, but you ignore her. "Frank!" you call. "Take Tina here home!"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't we need to--" she starts.<br/>
<br/>
"We don't need to do anything. You just be Tina. Don't try anything fancy tonight or tomorrow. After school tomorrow we'll meet and I'll give you a couple of masks and talk about how to use them." Frank comes out of the bedroom. "Take her home, and don't let her try to get cute with you."<br/>
<br/>
"It's an interesting scene in the bedroom," he says as he takes Tina by the arm. You frown at him as he goes to the door, but he doesn't expand on it before exiting.<br/>
<br/>
So you go in to have a look for yourself.<br/>
<br/>
Lawrence Farmer is there, looking pale and blotchy with the bedclothes wrapped tightly around himself. His eyes bug out when he sees you. "What's going on?" he asks in a voice just above a whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to go home and carry like nothing happened this afternoon." <br/>
<br/>
He swallows. "That's going to be really hard to do, Joe."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't see what the problem is." You snap your fingers. "Calm down, get up, and get dressed."<br/>
<br/>
But he doesn't move. Instead, his face curdles up and tears stream out. "Why are you doing this, Joe?" he shrieks. "What did I ever do to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't freak out," you order him. "Get out of the bed, Lawrence--"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not Lawrence, Joe, and you know it!" He starts to sob.<br/>
<br/>
The penny drops, with the force of a manhole cover falling off the top of a skyscraper. "Tina?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"Like you don't--"<br/>
<br/>
You leap on the figure in the bed. He struggles, but you're too strong and quickly have him pinned. You grab onto his face with a snarl and pull the mask off. Tina reappears, and collapses backward.<br/>
<br/>
You flip the mask over and stare at it. Lawrence Farmer's name floats above the inner surface, but--<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit!</i> Where's the golem shell? The inside of the mask is a translucent blue.<br/>
<br/>
You suck hard on your upper lip. You didn't fuck up, you're sure of that. You remember measuring out each of the ingredients for the shell. You remember plucking out your hair. You remember putting a match to it. You remember coating it; you even remember rinsing out the brush after you'd gotten all that Thai food cleaned up. The shell should be inside the mask.<br/>
<br/>
But whatever has happened, it's an even worse cock up than the shit Lawrence pulled with that ambush. Not only will Tina remember having been ambushed, she will remember waking up as Lawrence. And as Lawrence's mask has his memories of talking to you this afternoon, she will remember everything that you told him--and will remember everything that you and he did this afternoon before you left to go get Tina for him.</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122221122221112
author_id: seuzz
title: A Story for Tina
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're not sure what you did wrong, and so you can't be sure you can fix it. And it would take time, and you're at the house alone with her until Frank gets back.<br/>
<br/>
But you like the challenge of fixing things. If you can talk your way out of this ...<br/>
<br/>
Tina is twisted up inside the sheets, and you untangle her so she'll be more comfortable when she wakes, while still leaving her covered up. You put Lawrence's mask onto the desk in the corner, and sit at the foot of the bed.<br/>
<br/>
After a few minutes she stirs, and you wait until you hear her gasp before turning around. She looks at you with wide-eyed terror; you look back at her gravely with your best puppy-dog eyes. "You feel a little better now?" you quietly ask.<br/>
<br/>
But she says nothing, and her face twists up again.<br/>
<br/>
"I fucked up, Tina," you say. "You weren't supposed to-- You weren't supposed to remember who you really were. You were just supposed to go to sleep. Peacefully. And when it was all over, you were supposed to wake up as yourself again. But I fucked up. I'm glad I did, though."<br/>
<br/>
"What's-- Ah don't understand <i>any</i> of this!" she wails.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes you do. You were Lawrence Farmer, for a little while. Long enough to remember everything he did. Everything I told him. Right?" She says nothing, and just sniffs a couple of times. "But I didn't tell him everything. Not by a long shot. I <i>couldn't</i> tell him everything. He wouldn't understand. Not like <i>you</i> would. <i>You'd</i> understand. I'm sure of that." You rub an eye with the heel of your hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Understand <i>what?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"What I have to do. Lawrence is an asshole. With him I have to pretend like I'm an asshole too. But with <i>you,</i> Tina--" You sigh heavily, and let a tear come into your eye. "I've always liked you, Tina, from the moment we met. It was Lawrence's idea, and I had to go along with it, even though I didn't want to. I <i>hate</i> it."<br/>
<br/>
"Hate <i>what?</i> You're not making any sense!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm being blackmailed, Tina," you say. "Me and Frank are being blackmailed."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes widen with incredulity. "By Lawrence?"<br/>
<br/>
You laugh. "Him? Hardly. But we have to work with him, if we're going to save our dad. You'll help us, won't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Help you?"<br/>
<br/>
Again, you sigh. "It's a hard story to tell. It's weird. But you've already seen how weird it can be." You look over meaningfully at the desk; she follows your glance, and flinches back when she sees the mask.<br/>
<br/>
"There's really such a thing as magic, Tina," you continue. "And there's really such things as witches and warlocks and magic spells and curses and all the other things you hear about in fairy tales."<br/>
<br/>
She bites a lip fearfully. "Are you-- Are you saying that <i>you're</i> a--"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm just a kid. Just a stupid kid who's flunking most of his classes. Frank's just my brother. He's smarter than me, but he's in the same shit as me. And our dad, he's nothing special either. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."<br/>
<br/>
All this tap-dancing is leaving her fretful, but it's calmed her down and given you a chance to think. "It's like a fairy tale," you say, "so-- Well, once upon a time there was an evil magician. He lived a long time ago and he did a lot of evil things. He wrote down all of the spells he used in a book. When he died, the book went to another evil magician, and to an evil magician after that. It's a horrible book, full of horrible spells. And the really horrible thing is that the book itself is magic. Every time you use a spell, you have to kill someone. That's the price you have to pay."<br/>
<br/>
She sucks in a deep breath.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, anyway, this book, it finally wound up in the hands of a witch. She lived in New York, if you can believe it. She still lives there, because even though she's very old, she's still alive. She's a wicked, wicked woman. Really, the old fairy tales don't come even close to telling you how awful people like that can be. Like, there was this one time--<br/>
<br/>
"Don't," Tina gasps. "You don't have to tell me."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. I don't like thinking about it myself. There wasn't a lot left of ... that family ... when she got done with them." You shiver elaborately. "But even though she's a witch, she still has to live in the real world. Our dad, he was her handyman, kept her house fixed up for her. I mean, it's not like she could conjure up a dragon and have <i>it</i> do her yard work for her. Well, our dad found out what she was, and some of the things she had done. He couldn't go to the police or anything. Even though she left bones behind, it wasn't like with a serial killer, where the CSI people could pin anything on her. And she made sure he knew what she could and would do to him if he told anyone. But he told me and Frank, because we sometimes helped him out at her place, and we saw a few too many things, and he had to tell us." You claw at your cheek. "I still have nightmares about the skins we found. The skins we found of-- She wants to be young again, Tina!" you exclaim in horror. "She wants to be young and beautiful, to <i>look</i> like a young and beautiful girl, before she dies. And she got these skins off some girls so she could--"<br/>
<br/>
Tina cries out.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, our dad found out. We all found out. He couldn't take it anymore, finally. Because she was going to make him help her. She showed him the book, and told him that he needed to bring her people so that she could--" Now she doesn't have to make a sound: her expression begs you not to continue. "So he stole the book from her. He stole it, and we all ran. We came here to Saratoga Falls, to get away from her."<br/>
<br/>
You let your head sink low. "We thought we'd gotten away. But we should have known better. She found us. About a week ago. Frank and me came home from school, and our dad was gone. But <i>she</i> was here, in our living room. Standing right there. She's old and she's fat and she has a cane, but we couldn't do anything. She just stood there, and she said that if we ever wanted to see our dad again, we'd have to do what she said." With a groan you fall face forward onto the bed.<br/>
<br/>
It's her cue, but she takes her sweet time picking up on it. "What do you have to do, Joe?" she finally asks in a voice so soft you can barely hear it.<br/>
<br/>
"We have to make copies of people," you murmur into the bedspread. "She called it a 'compromise'." You laugh bitterly. "Can you believe it? She was ripping the skins off girls, and planning on murdering dozens of people, and she didn't even have to do <i>that.</i> Because she's just evil, just pure evil." You roll over onto your back and stare blankly at the ceiling. "But she said she'd compromise. She had another spell. It lets you make these masks of people, like you can copy people into them. And you can wear them, and disguise yourself as them. It doesn't hurt the people, though--" You shrug in pretended embarrassment. "Well, you can accidentally hurt people while you're copying them. Like we accidentally hurt <i>you.</i> But she showed us how they work. If we make copies of people, and give those copies to her, she'll let us have our dad back."<br/>
<br/>
"What does she want to do with these copies?"<br/>
<br/>
"Wear them, so she can be young again. She says she can also use them to fool that horrible book. Yeah, she got that back from us too." You rub your arm. "I don't know if I believe her, but it's better than the alternative."<br/>
<br/>
You fall silent. Tina also doesn't speak for awhile before offering up a simple comment: "This is pretty freaky."<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I can show you all this," you say, looking up sharply at her. "I can make a copy of my own face and put it on you, and you can see <i>everything</i> that I've told you about. <i>Everything!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
She flinches. "No. Ah guess Ah believe you," she stammers. "But why didn't you tell this to Lawrence? Why did you tell him you wanted--"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, you know Farmer. He wouldn't help. And we need help. We need a lot of masks, and we need them fast. It's more than Frank and me can handle on our own. So we just showed him the masks, and told him he could have fun if he got us some copies." You wince. "Letting him replace you, well, that was the price we had to pay. But it was only going to be for a little while."<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to change that, aren't you?" she asks. "You're going to make him go back to being himself." Her face falls as you just stare back gravely at her. "Ah don't want him fucking things up for me."<br/>
<br/>
"I told him he couldn't. I yelled at him hard over what he did to you, when he came out all done up as you. But I can't make him go back. We have a bargain."<br/>
<br/>
"But what am <i>I</i> s'pposed to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Someone has to be Lawrence Farmer," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, no!" <br/>
<br/>
"But that's how you can keep him under control. If he screws things up for you, you can screw things up for him. He'd have to behave, or else--" You chew on the inside of your cheek. "And you could help us out, too. I'd really like it if you would."<br/>
<br/>
She hangs her head for a long time, and you don't push her. "Okay, Joe," she says quietly. "I'll do it. I'll-- I'll even help you get these ... copies of people. Are you going to call him, bring him back over, so we can talk?"<br/>
<br/>
She has turned a little green, and you can see the horror she must feel at having to look at and confront a fake version of herself.</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222211222211122
author_id: seuzz
title: Too Many Teammates
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You don't want to talk to Lawrence," you say. "It would be weird for you, and I don't think he'd react well." You chew on the tip of your thumb. "You know, I fucked up with that mask. You were supposed to just go to sleep when I put it on you. It was going to make, like, a robot version of Lawrence, one that would have to follow my orders. You can just put it on and pretend like you're that robot. You wouldn't really be, of course," you hasten to assure her. "But I'll tell Lawrence that it is just a robot. And I'll tell him that if he fucks up your life, I'll order it to fuck up his. That way he knows he has to be careful, but you don't have to be the one to tell him."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, God, I'm not going to like this," Tina groans.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, try to make the best of it," you suggest. "He's always making trouble for you and your friends, right? You're going to be inside his head. You can see what all he plots and what all he knows. When you guys swap back, you can use what you learned to keep him in his place. Alyssa would like that."<br/>
<br/>
Part of you hopes she'll be revolted by the thought of using Lawrence's mask against him, so you can't help feeling a little disappointment when you see the gleam come into her eye. But mostly you're glad to see that she has that much cynicism and resentment in her; it'll make it easier to manage her.<br/>
<br/>
"Here, put it on. There's no point in waiting." You fetch the mask from the desk and hand it to her. "Your clothes--his clothes--are on the floor. I'll wait for you outside."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You pace the living room as you wait. Gonna be tricky, managing these two. They're not exactly your idea of a "team", and you doubt Patterson would be impressed either. But as soon as you get the masks from them-- Well, you don't know what is supposed to come after that. Is Patterson planning on moving to Eastman himself? Is he just going to leave you in charge of this playground? Maybe you can get rid of them after they've met their quota, and recruit some new people.<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of which, you still need to talk to Becky. What kind of story are you going to give to <i>her?</i><br/>
<br/>
Before you can come up with anything, though, your new confederate appears. Lawrence Farmer, nose in the air, looking resentful and put upon. He fiddles with a button on the front of his shirt, and tugs at the top of his slacks. "Okay, so here I am," he says, and he definitely sounds more like Lawrence than like Tina. Lawrence must have a stronger personality than Tina--<br/>
<br/>
The way Joe has a stronger personality than you do. You blink and push that thought away. "Huh?" you grunt.<br/>
<br/>
"I said, whaddaya need from me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Five masks. I don't have any to show you at the moment--"<br/>
<br/>
"Christ, how many total are you planning to get?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're supposed to get forty-nine. Seven times seven."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Ms. Simmons--that's Wichiepoo's name, by the way--wants a bunch of girls, like I said, but she also needs a bunch of regular people, to sacrifice to the book--"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you sure that's not going to hurt anyone?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure of anything, Tina. But I gotta do what I gotta do. So who would be easiest for you get copies of? For Lawrence to get copies of, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"Lots of people. He's popular in some circles. I don't know why." She rattles off a bunch of names, few of which mean much to you one way or another. "So if it's just cannon fodder--"<br/>
<br/>
"What about some of the cheerleaders? I mean, I can get close to girls, but I'm only one guy--" She gives you a look. "Hey, I'm not going to apologize for liking girls and wanting to hang out with a bunch of them. If you weren't looking like <i>that</i> I'd like to hang out with <i>you.</i> But you mentioned Jessica Pearce in there. You can get close to her? What's her deal, anyway?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. She's on the outs with Alyssa, which gives her an in with Lawrence, as far as he's concerned. Jesus!" Her expression turns vexed. "I had no idea we were so unpopular with so many people."<br/>
<br/>
"Everyone is hated by somebody, some where, for some reason. You get inside their heads with these copies, and maybe you can figure out the particulars. Then maybe you can do something about it. Why does Lawrence have it in for Alyssa?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. He wouldn't be happy unless he <i>was</i> Alyssa. Oh, God!" She turns pale, and turns toward you. "He'll-- He'll want to replace <i>her!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Really? I didn't really have that impression. I thought he just wanted to screw with her. And what's the point of screwing with her if he isn't himself to reap the reward?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, he wants to <i>be</i> her. I can <i>feel</i> it."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's not going to happen," you say. <i>Actually, Lawrence might be more profitably placed inside of Alyssa.</i> But you can worry about that later. "You should go ahead and go home. Nothing will happen until tomorrow, and we can talk then."<br/>
<br/>
"So I'm just going to be Lawrence Farmer," she says, and doesn't bother to hide the sulk in her tone. "I've got some homework to do. I guess I can--" You catch her eye and cock an eyebrow. "I guess I can do my <i>best</i> on it."<br/>
<br/>
"Attagirl." You clap her on the shoulder and push her toward the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You've only been curled up on the couch with the <i>Libra</i> for ten minutes when golem-Frank returns. You tell him briefly about your session with Tina, so he won't be surprised. He rolls his eyes. "You like to make things complicated, don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's no fun otherwise. It's like-- Hey, we should go hustle someone at pool. Scare up some cash."<br/>
<br/>
"Your wish is my command," he says sarcastically. But you just tell him to go fix something for you to eat. You've got stuff to do.<br/>
<br/>
You pass the rest of the evening making and polishing up masks, using the power buffer to make it go faster. Then you tackle the <i>Libra</i> again, to figure out where you screwed up on the golem shell.<br/>
<br/>
It comes down to having used some of Joe's own hair, you finally figure out after pouring over the various sigils. You pluck out a bit more hair, and stare at it in your palm. After only a minute or so, it melts away to nothingness. Something similar must have happened after you mixed it in with the golem ingredients. But because it had bonded with those ingredients, when it evaporated inside the mask, it took the shell with it. You wouldn't have thought it would make such a huge difference--at worst, you would have figured that a golem-mask made with Joe's hair would have bound the golem to the control of whoever was wearing his mask--but in the future you'll have to be certain of using your own hair in that spell.<br/>
<br/>
Your dreams that night are filled with girls. Unfortunately, all of them have Lawrence Farmer's eyes.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Tina and Lawrence. Tina-as-Lawrence and Lawrence-as-Tina. You think you're prepared for trouble at school the next day. But you're not prepared enough.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, it starts mildly enough. You're sitting in second period before class starts, staring dazedly at the chalkboard and pretending not to eavesdrop on Alyssa and Maddy and Tina (the fake Tina) gossiping waspishly nearby, when Lawrence (the fake Lawrence) comes in. He stops by their desk and stares about distractedly. "So this is what the smart girls are up to," he says snottily, then jerks his head thoughtfully. "Oh, sorry, I wasn't talking about <i>you.</i>" He goes over to sit next to Darcy Whitehead, and leans over to whisper and giggle conspiratorially with her. You can't help looking over. Alyssa makes a face. Tina looks at you. Her face is blank, but her eyes speak volumes: <i>What an asshole.</i> You look away before she can read the thought in your own eyes: <i>Now you know what </i>Lawrence Farmer looks like to other people.<br/>
<br/>
But then comes lunch time. You're sauntering through the halls on your way to your locker, poking at and laughing with people, when you catch sight of Lawrence (again, the fake one) standing at a corner with Ursula. He's peering at her intently with a wicked grin; she's gesturing extravagantly and rolling her eyes. He glances over and does a double take when he sees you; she follows his glance, and looks hurriedly away. It doesn't take a detective or a psychologist to figure out who they were talking about.<br/>
<br/>
Ursula turns her back as you approach; Lawrence steps forward and intercepts you. "I just had an interesting conversation with <i>Ursula,</i>" he says with soft malice. "She's an <i>interesting girl.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"If you're thinking about--" you start, but he turns his head and darts off into the crowd.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart thumps. <i>You told Tina one story about the masks; you told Ursula quite another.</i> No one in the school would pay any attention to anything Ursula says. No one except Tina-as-Lawrence or Lawrence-as-Tina. If she has--<br/>
<br/>
You hurry up to Ursula and take her by the elbow. She squeals, but you have a firm hold of her, and hustle her over to the door to a custodian's closet. It's open and you push her inside. "Treating them rough now--?" a voice calls out behind you, but you shut it out as you shut the door. You fumble at the light switch.<br/>
<br/>
Ursula glares angrily at you. "What do you think you're--"<br/>
<br/>
"What were you talking about with Lawrence?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"None of your business." She lunges at the door, but you stop her. Two blank masks clink together in your bag.<br/>
<br/>
You have to know what she was saying. You have to stop her from saying anything that could queer anything for you. Before you can even think of what you're doing, you swing the bag off your shoulder and pull out one of the masks. Her hands fly up, but you jam the mask onto her face.</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222
author_id: imaj
title: The Freshman Candidate.
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Girls! It'd be perfect!</i><br/>
<br/>
You grin to yourself. You've used girl disguises to get close to other girls; it would be shorter to just have girls as operatives. Homely girls, girls who are jealous of other girls and want their boyfriends. Girls who will react well when Joe Durras smiles at them and takes them aside and shows them how they can get what they want, if only they do what he asks—and will thrill at the thought that Joe Durras might give them <i>more.</i><br/>
<br/>
But not Ursula, you decide. Ursula is merely credulous. Someone actively gullible would be a much better choice. If you were able to throw in envious, petty and small minded into the mix too, you’d have the perfect candidate: Someone that you could gently guide into making the decisions you wanted them to make without them realising.<br/>
<br/>
It’s difficult though, as Joe doesn’t know anyone that fits the bill. The problem consumes you, and you spend the day thinking about it. Thinking about it so intensely, in fact, that you wouldn’t notice if the right candidate was standing right in front of you.<br/>
<br/>
As it happens, you walk straight into her.<br/>
<br/>
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going,” snarls the little blonde freshman girl as you jostle her lunch tray, sending salad skittering across the floor. As she looks up at you, the angry expression fades. She smiles dazzlingly and, amazingly, finds a free hand to twirl her hair with. “Oh, Hi Joe.”<br/>
<br/>
“Aw gee,” you reply, returning her smile with interest. “I’m sorry about your lunch. Maybe I could get you some more.”<br/>
<br/>
The girl laughs, as if you’d just said the funniest thing ever. “Don’t worry about. I’m on a diet right now anyway,” she says, flirting obviously. “You know, if you want to make it up to me, what you could do… Come have lunch with me.”<br/>
<br/>
You regard her carefully for a moment. She reminds you a little of Chelsea Cooper, the head cheerleader back at Westside – same basic body shape, just needing a couple more years to fill out fully. She probably needs a couple more years to polish her attempts to manipulate you too. Still, nipping her in the bud before she completes her development into a fully fledged Chelsea-clone probably counts as a good deed.<br/>
<br/>
“Sure,” you say warmly. You find an empty table and sit down across from her. “Hi, I’m Joe Durras,” you say, offering you hand.<br/>
<br/>
“I know who you are, silly,” she says, batting your hand away. “I said your name earlier, remember?”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh yeah,” you say, trying to look a little crestfallen. You’ve got Joe’s reputation to live down to after all. “I forgot.”<br/>
<br/>
“Do you know who I am,” she asks keenly as you shovel food in your mouth. She hasn’t touched her own meal at all. “Maybe Shawn or Jon have mentioned me?”<br/>
<br/>
<i>Now why would they mention her,</i> you think before remembering that both Shawn Gregory and Jonathan Straussler, Joe’s teammates on the basketball squad, have freshmen girlfriends. You can guess that in the mind of the little Chelsea-in-training in front of you, that means she has to have one too.<br/>
<br/>
“Um,” you say goofily. “I think I forgot that too.”<br/>
<br/>
The freshman girl laughs again. “Oh Joe, you’re so funny. I’m Carrie, by the way. Carrie Carmichael.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, they told me all about you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Really,” asks Carrie anxiously. “What did they say?”<br/>
<br/>
“Er… That your name was Carrie and that you were a freshman,” you reply, nonplussed. Carrie laughs loudly again. “That was it really.”<br/>
<br/>
“So, so funny. So Joe, are you doing anything after school,” she asks, inexpertly trying to hook you. It’s almost amusing, watching her fumbling attempts to flirt with you. If Joe was really as dumb as he makes himself out to be, it might work. Instead, you think you should turn the tables – bait her into becoming part of your new group.<br/>
<br/>
“Carrie,” you say, becoming more serious. “You’re a nice girl and all, but I only date girls my own age.”<br/>
<br/>
You watch as her face falls. Carrie has yet to master the art of looking so wretched that people can’t help but feel sympathetic towards her, but she is getting close.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh,” is all she says, in a small voice. She makes to get up, so you grab hold of her hands across the table. “What,” she asks.<br/>
<br/>
“What,” you say in a very quiet voice. “If I could make it so you were my age?”<br/>
<br/>
You watch the rush of emotions flickering in her eyes. Confusion, disbelief and finally hunger. You’ve judged Carrie well – She’s a proto-Chelsea, but why wait for two years to grow up if she can jump there in an instant.<br/>
<br/>
“Tell me more,” she says firmly.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
You’re feeling a little satisfied as you make your way to your afternoon classes. Carrie was a lucky find. Your sure that with Joe’s, admittedly well hidden, brains to help you, you can nudge her in the right direction. She’s agreed to come to the Durras house after school for a ‘demonstration’ and the only question still to resolve is who’s face you want to let her try.<br/>
<br/>
Someone pretty and popular is the obvious choice. One of the cheerleaders, something like that. They’d be exactly the kind of person Carrie would want to be. Exactly the kind of person Carrie think she is herself, just a little older.<br/>
<br/>
But then, one of the cheerleaders wouldn’t be of much use to you. Except, perhaps, Alyssa, but it wouldn’t be a good idea to propel Carrie direct to the top of Eastman’s A-crowd. One of her hangers on might be an idea – the little group they call the Rumouratti. Some of them are pretty enough that Carrie wouldn’t mind swapping, and you could always lead her on with promises of taking control of the group.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222222
author_id: imaj
title: I'm a Big Girl Now
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It must be your lucky day, because you practically run into one of Alyssa’s coterie as well.<br/>
<br/>
Actually, it would be more accurate to say she came looking for you. You’d retreated to the school library for the last period of the day, just to get a little quiet time to think at one of the tables hidden round at the back. Having dozed off for a minute, you were surprised to see one of the Rumouratti standing at above you when you opened your eyes.<br/>
<br/>
Come to think of it, if they actively sought you out, it’s probably not a good sign at all.<br/>
<br/>
"My, my," says Maddy Caron. "This is the last place I’d have expected to find <i>you,</i> Joe Durras."<br/>
<br/>
"Why," you ask with a sleepy smile. "It’s nice and quiet and I like to get a nap in the afternoon. I love the wallpaper too," you add, gesturing at the bookcases around you. "Real old fashioned feel to the place."<br/>
<br/>
"Now it all makes sense," she replies rolling her eyes. She folds her arms over her breasts as she realises you are staring at them. You can’t help yourself – it’s a mixture of Joe’s personality and that they really are that big. It doesn’t help that, with you seated and her standing, they are at eye level.<br/>
<br/>
"You come for a power nap too," you ask, gesturing at a nearby seat.<br/>
<br/>
Maddy smirks as she sits down. "Yeah, that’s it," she says insincerely. You pretend not to notice as she clasps her hands on the desk in front of you. "But now that I see you here, why don’t we have a chat."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you want to talk about," you say, placing your hands on top of Maddy’s.<br/>
<br/>
"Alyssa wanted me to talk to you about Carrie Carmichael," she blurts out. The look of shock on her face is priceless, but she rallies quickly. "I mean, we saw you talking at lunch. What is it with the basketball team and cradle robbing?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don’t know what you mean," you say with a hurt expression on your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Shawn and Sarah," asks Maddy. "Jon and Monique? You and Carrie?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh I get you," you reply. "I was just talking to her. She seems nice, but I prefer girls my own age," you explain.<br/>
<br/>
"I bet you do," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Why’s it so important anyway," you ask, the words hanging in the air.<br/>
<br/>
"Carrie’s on Alyssa’s shit list," says Maddy. "The last thing Alyssa wants is for her to hook up with you." Maddy’s eyebrows rise as she realises what she’s just said and her hand rushes to cover her mouth. There is a moment of utter silence before she speaks again. "I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that," she says, clearly shaken.<br/>
<br/>
"That’s why I have my afternoon nap," you say, leaning your chin in one hand. "I’m always saying stupid things if I don’t get my nap."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" No snarky comeback – you must have gotten to her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you grin. "Hey, I got this really neat meditation aid mask in my bag. You should try it."<br/>
<br/>
"I uh, don’t know," says Maddy. She tries to rise to her feet unsteadily.<br/>
<br/>
You grab hold of her hand again. Maddy is so fazed by your conversation she’s easy to lead. "What have you got to lose? Trust me, you’ll wake up <i>so</i> rested."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
"Can you do it," asks Carrie excitedly. "Can you make me a senior?" She’s sitting cross legged on Joe’s bed.<br/>
<br/>
"Wouldn’t have given you that old shirt to wear if I couldn’t," you say. It took a little persuading but you managed to get Carrie to discard the snug blouse she showed up in for one of Frank’s old shirts. You even had to leave the room for five minutes to let her change. "Don’t think your Mom would have liked it if you went home with ripped clothes."<br/>
<br/>
"I think you’re just trying to get me naked," she says wrinkling her nose. "You know, you could just ask me. Now, how’s this going to work."<br/>
<br/>
"Magic," you say firmly.<br/>
<br/>
"Magic," says Carrie, a little sarcastically. "What really?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, really," you parrot, picking up the mask you made earlier and handing it to her. "Magic’s real. Lot of other things are too, but this works by magic."<br/>
<br/>
"And you know how to do it," asks Carrie suspiciously. "It’s just that… that you seem so… This is a joke, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Completely true, witch’s honour," you reply, making a v with your index and middle fingers just in front of your face. Carrie just looks at you blankly. "Just take a look at it."<br/>
<br/>
"I can see someone’s face on the surface," she exclaims. "Isn’t that one of Alyssa’s friends?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maddy," you explain. "Flip it over and you’ll see." Carrie does so and coos quietly when she spots the glowing letters of Maddy’s name hovering just above the inner surface of the mask. "I could tell you the metaphysics of it…"<br/>
<br/>
"Metawhatsits," interrupts Carrie with a whine. "I don’t get it. You don’t talk like this normally Joe."<br/>
<br/>
"I’m good at hiding things Carrie," you explain patiently. "Do you think anyone at school thinks I’m a bigshot sorcerer? Me, gee-shucks Joe Durras plumbing the depths of the power cosmic?"<br/>
<br/>
"What about Frank?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Frank too," you sigh. "Look, Carrie, do you want to learn magic too?"<br/>
<br/>
"Do I want to learn magic too," she repeats slowly.<br/>
<br/>
"You do? Well, put that mask on and we’ll begin your first lesson."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, what will happen," Carrie asks nervously.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn’t want to explain the metaphysics of it but… Well, that mask contains everything about Maddy," you explain carefully, thinking how to dumb it down to Carrie’s level. "It’s like a copy of her, except… Imagine you put your hand in some mud, you’d leave a hand print, right? Well Maddy put her face in that mask and she left a Maddy-print. When you put the mask on you can use that Maddy-print."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait," says Carrie, a dazed expression on her face. "If I put it on I’ll turn into Maddy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," you reply. "And also no. It’s easier to do than for me to explain but… You do want to be a senior, don’t you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," she says firmly, lifting the mask towards her face. She topples backwards with a soft thud.<br/>
<br/>
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you gently massage her hands until her eyelids flutter and she comes to. You help her sit back up, her movements are awkward and fumbling.<br/>
<br/>
"Ohmygod," Carrie squeaks breathlessly. One hand grabs a bunch of Maddy’s brunette tresses, pulling them in front of her face to examine them closely. When you show her the hand mirror you brought in from the bathroom, she sits up and grabs it. Her eyes bulge as she stares at her reflection. "I'm her! I'm Maddy! I look just like her!"<br/>
<br/>
"No one would be able to tell that you aren't her," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh wow," she squeals, and hops off the bed. She paces the room, staring into the mirror, and narrowly avoids tripping over a pair of sneakers that you left in the middle of the floor.<br/>
<br/>
"Try pretending to be her," you say encouragingly.<br/>
<br/>
"Like how?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just think, <i>I'm Maddy Caron.</i> The rest should take care of itself."<br/>
<br/>
Carrie's expression goes very rigid and cramped. For a moment, she is able to hold a face that is like Maddy's at her most intense, but then she dissolves in giggles.<br/>
<br/>
"How would you like to do that at school?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, but what if people saw us? What if <i>she</i> saw me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I could help you step in for Maddy," you explain. "You’d be a senior and we could have some fun. I told you—" You take her hand. "I only date girls that are my age."<br/>
<br/>
"Couldn’t I be Alyssa," whines Carrie.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess," you shrug, "but she’s not as pretty as you Carrie, or as pretty as Maddy either. Besides, it wouldn’t let you get back at her."<br/>
<br/>
"Back at her for what?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're on Alyssa's shit list," you remind her.<br/>
<br/>
Carrie's eyes pop. "I am? For what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Think about it," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
Carrie's expression curdles, and she goes back to staring into the mirror. "If I was Maddy I could get back at her," she murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"That’s a clever idea," you say, feeding her ego. "Maddy could make Alyssa’s life difficult." You pause for a second. "Damn!"<br/>
<br/>
"What," asks Carrie hurriedly.<br/>
<br/>
"Well the rest of her clique would still be on her side. You’d need at least two more of them causing problems to have any real effect," you say, drifting into silence. You wait to see if Carrie picks up the hint.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe we could get some of my friends to help out as well," she eventually says.<br/>
<br/>
"Ohhh," you say, as if you hadn’t being trying to get Carrie to say just that. "That would work. Do you have anyone in mind?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," says Carrie. "Marissa and Patricia, they’d do it if I told them to, but…" she tails off. "There’s a couple of girls I was friends with in middle school, but we kinda drifted apart. They’re not as popular as me," explains Carrie. "I mean, maybe if we were all popular like Alyssa’s friends are we could be friends again."<br/>
<br/>
Now that is interesting. It seems that Carrie still has something approaching a conscience. "Who are they," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Sarah and Joanna," explains Carrie meekly.<br/>
<br/>
It’s unlikely that Sarah and Joanna, whoever they are, will be as willing to help Carrie as her two friends would be. On the other hand, tensions within the group would make it easier to steer them, or at least stop them ganging up on you.</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222222
author_id: imaj
title: Three Stooges
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You let Carrie organise picking up the new recruits. That leaves you free to spend the following day at Eastman goofing off, wasting time and generally revelling Joe’s masquerade of stupidity. After school, you send Frank off to pick up more mask supplies. You’d had him skip school for the day and polish up some masks for you. It turns out you can do it very quickly with the aid of a power tool and he managed to use up most of you stock. That leaves you alone at the Durras house when Carrie shows up with her reluctant acquaintances.<br/>
<br/>
Reluctant certainly seems to be the word. You can see it etched on their faces as you open the door. One of her companions, a slightly built Asian girl, seems a little shocked to see you. The other, a cute girl next door type, wears her disdain openly. You can see why they drifted apart from Carrie, as neither has that same, almost artificial, look that Carrie somehow achieves.<br/>
<br/>
“Hi Joe,” says Carrie winsomely.<br/>
<br/>
“Girls,” you smile a dazzlingly bright Joe Durras smile at them. The Asian girl smiles faintly back, but her eyes stay firmly fixed on your feet. There is something familiar about her that you can’t quite place. The other girl’s expression does not so much as flicker. “Come on in.”<br/>
<br/>
You lead the three through to the sitting room and settle yourself into one of the sofas. Carrie sits next to you. The Asian girl chooses a single seat but the other girl seems to prefer to remain standing.<br/>
<br/>
“So which of you is Sarah and which of you is Joanna,” you ask, smile still fixed on your face.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m Sarah,” says the Asian girl nervously.<br/>
<br/>
“And I’m not in the mood for this,” says the other girl, Joanna presumably. She folds her arms defiantly. “Ok Carrie, you’ve shown off your new boyfriend. Can we go now?”<br/>
<br/>
“Boyfriend,” you say, turning to Carrie and raising an eyebrow. She smiles, but it doesn’t touch her eyes – instead you see a trace of panic there. “I thought these were your friends?”<br/>
<br/>
“I didn’t say you were my boyfriend,” says Carrie quickly.<br/>
<br/>
“Friends,” snorts Joanna. “Maybe before she discovered boys. And makeup.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ok, Ok,” you say. “Why don’t you sit down Joanna?” She looks at you angrily, but you simply smile back. Her cheeks flush a little and backs into the other sofa. “Just what did Carrie tell you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Just that we really had to come with her,” says Sarah, looking directly at you for the first time.<br/>
<br/>
“You used to be friends, right,” you ask. The girls all nod. “Wouldn’t you like to be again?”<br/>
<br/>
“Carrie wants us to be like her,” says Joanna sceptically. “Why are you so interested anyway?”<br/>
<br/>
“What can I say,” you reply, favouring her with another winning smile. “I’m a nice guy. I’d like to help you all out, and ‘being like Carrie’ isn’t going to be a problem. Carrie’s happy to change.” You get up and fetch the mask of Maddy from where you left it. You throw it gently to Carrie. “Aren’t you Carrie?”<br/>
<br/>
She looks at the mask, biting her lip. Carrie brings the mask up to her face, toppling forward as it vanishes. Luckily, you’re quick enough to catch her, laying her gently back on the sofa. Sarah shrieks as you sit back down.<br/>
<br/>
“What did you do to her” asks Joanna, standing bolt upright. She edges over to her friend who is still screaming.<br/>
<br/>
“Nothing,” you say holding up your hands. Sarah stops screaming, but only to take a breath. “She’ll wake up in a moment and tell you herself.” You get up and gently take Sarah by the shoulders before she has a chance to open her mouth again. “I need you to be quiet and listen to her,” you say, looking Sarah directly in the eye. “Can you do that?” Sarah nods mutely. You back away slowly and help Carrie sit back up.<br/>
<br/>
“Carrie,” asks Joanna as the changed girl rubs her eyes. “Is that you?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” replies Carrie. “But I’m also Maddy now. Totally, like I could pretend to be her and her own family wouldn’t notice,” giggles Carrie.<br/>
<br/>
“I think people would notice if you disappeared,” snorts Joanna.<br/>
<br/>
Carrie’s adopted face falls. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admits. “What about that, Joe?”<br/>
<br/>
“Maddy will fill in for you Carrie,” you explain. “Only, she’ll be asleep and won’t remember anything afterwards.” You turn to Joanna. “What do you think? You could be one of Maddy’s friends: Tina, Mandy, Natalie? Imagine the fun you could have being a senior.”<br/>
<br/>
“This is…” Joanna stutters. “… wrong. I don’t think I want anything to do with this.”<br/>
<br/>
“I want to be Dana,” says Sarah quietly.<br/>
<br/>
Joanna turns to look at her friend. “You what?”<br/>
<br/>
“I want to be Dana,” repeats Sarah, more firmly this time.<br/>
<br/>
“Why,” the confusion is obvious in Joanna’s voice.<br/>
<br/>
“She’s just so much more confident,” says Sarah. She stares at the floor for a moment. “And David likes her,” she adds quietly.<br/>
<br/>
“What’s my brother got to do with this,” asks Joanna incredulously.<br/>
<br/>
“He’s cute,” Sarah responds eventually, blushing brightly. “But he’s never noticed me. He’d notice if I was Dana.”<br/>
<br/>
“Your own sister,” shouts Joanna.<br/>
<br/>
“But it wouldn’t be permanent, would it,” Sarah says looking at you imploringly. “We could swap back later and Dana would be ok?”<br/>
<br/>
“Of course,” you reply.<br/>
<br/>
“Please Jo,” says Sarah, looking at her friend again. “I need this.”<br/>
<br/>
Joanna stares at Sarah, then at you. She opens her mouth several times. “No one gets hurt,” she eventually asks.<br/>
<br/>
“They can come back any time,” you assure her.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m only doing this to make sure Sarah’s ok,” she says, pointing her finger at you. “If you… <i>fuck</i> around with her… If you fuck around with either of us… You’ll regret it.”<br/>
<br/>
“Trust me,” you say. “I only want to help you.”<br/>
<br/>
That seems to mollify Joanna and she sits back down on the sofa. Carrie leans and whispers in your ear. “Dana isn’t one of Maddy’s friends.”<br/>
<br/>
“She will be, you say out of the side of your mouth. “She will be.”<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">*****</div><br/>
You admire your three new masks. Once Joanna and Sarah were on board it was easy enough to persuade the three girls to make masks for you. Carrie practically snatched her blank off you. So now you have a Carrie Carmichael mask, a Sarah Pak mask and a Joanna Johnson mask. They still need to be golemized. Even though you got a strand of hair from each of the girls you think you’ll be using your own instead. After all, if you tell the golems to follow the girls instruction they’ll never know the difference.<br/>
<br/>
You can get that sorted before you turn in for the night. Then you can start swapping the girls about tomorrow. Who to start with though? Carrie will doubtless want to be swapped first, and doing so will keep her from whining at you. Sarah’s swap will be much easier to complete though. All you need to do is show up at her house and make the switch.</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222222
author_id: seuzz
title: Unwanted Teammates
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Actually, now that you've got three masks as requested, the first thing you should do is tell Patterson you're all set up. Nail down that "senior position." <br/>
<br/>
"Westside sucks!" you shout into the phone when he answers. "Give Patterson the message. Oh, but he knows that already. Tell him I got the three masks he asked for."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm right here, Prescott," he growls. He's unimpressed when you tell him who you've recruited ("What the fuck good are freshman girls?") and even welshes on his promise to make you a senior member for having recruited them: "I don't believe this bullshit. Prove you've got a team worth having. Fifteen masks, and make 'em good, and then we'll talk about your being a senior member."<br/>
<br/>
"What counts as 'good'?" you ask through gritted teeth.<br/>
<br/>
"Hot girls. Guys with hot girlfriends. Guys who get lots of action with hot girls."<br/>
<br/>
And then comes the topper: He's sending Keith and Jason Lynch over to Eastman to finish their jobs. "Kick their asses. Or I'll kick <i>your</i> ass."<br/>
<br/>
<i>I oughta kick your ass,</i> you think as you hang up. <i>I oughta let Joe and Frank loose, leave them with your name, go hide, and let them stomp your ass.</i> <br/>
<br/>
You go out to the garage, where Frank has been mixing up the ingredients for new masks. He watches silently as you fire and pour out one mask, and then another, and then a third. "This stinks," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"You talking about the smell or what we're doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Both. You got your agents. What do we do about Patterson?"<br/>
<br/>
"Do you want to be in charge, Frank?" you ask without bothering to hide your irritation.<br/>
<br/>
"It's what I'm used to."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, get these polished up," you say, handing them to him. "And then we'll talk about a switch."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Eat up, girls," Joe grins. "You won't have to worry about <i>those</i> figures much longer."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be crude, Joe," you say. "And careful eating is a good habit." You sit back in the chair and ignore the muffin sitting in front of you. Joe snorts and buries his muzzle in a cinnamon roll.<br/>
<br/>
Carrie, Joanna, and Sarah shift uncomfortably in their seats. It's lunchtime, but the five of you are across the street from school at Munson's Bread Shop. Other students are shuffling in and out. Joe waves cheerily to them; you, now impersonating the more subdued Frank, merely nod. You're not surprised that Joanna and Sarah seem ill at ease, sitting in a very public place with two of the senior basketball players, but Carrie's attitude seems hard to explain. "What's wrong, Carrie?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing," she says. She cuts a small piece out of the cinnamon roll that she is supposedly sharing with the other two girls. "I-- We didn't know that <i>you</i> were, um, you know, with Joe on-- on--"<br/>
<br/>
"We do everything together. Have since we were kids. Being brothers and all." Carrie and the other girls continue to avoid your eye. "You worried about the upcoming swap? Don't be. We'll handle the job for Sarah tonight and then take care of you. You thought any more about your position, Joanna?"<br/>
<br/>
She swallows, and it's not any of the snack. "I don't think I really want to--"<br/>
<br/>
Your eye catches Joe's. He leans in on her. "I need a girlfriend," he murmurs. "Someone I can be really sweet to. Someone I can make really happy." Joanna gasps and stiffens.<br/>
<br/>
"You girls are getting a lot of attention, being at this table with us," you say. "It would be a lot easier to be seen with you if you were seniors."<br/>
<br/>
"Of a certain type," Joe adds.<br/>
<br/>
"I wanna talk to Sarah about it," Joanna mumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"And to me," Carrie says. Joanna doesn't concur.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that your brother?" you ask Joanna as a slim, dark-haired kid walks past the window. He seems to be heading for the neighboring comic book shop.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." She shoots a little glance at Sarah.<br/>
<br/>
Joe raises an eyebrow. You shake your head. <i>Doesn't meet any of Patterson's criteria.</i><br/>
<br/>
You feel Carrie's hand brush your thigh. <i>Little tramp. She was all over Joe yesterday.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Is that you, Prescott?" Lynch's voice carries all the way from the front door to the dining room.<br/>
<br/>
"Who wants to know?" you hear Joe retort. "Frank, it looks like the sanitation department left a couple of assholes on our doorstep. Do I let 'em in?"<br/>
<br/>
"Might as well." You lean back in the chair and gaze back steadily as the two visitors enter. "Lynch," you nod. "Tilley. You have a message from Patterson?"<br/>
<br/>
Lynch glares. Keith swallows. "He said we were supposed to come see you," he says, looking between you and Joe. "We're supposed to transfer, finish our ... our jobs at Eastman, under you."<br/>
<br/>
You look at Joe, and he shuts the door.<br/>
<br/>
"So, basically," you tell the two Westsiders, "you're saying you were such fuck ups you couldn't hack it at Westside." You phrase it as an assertion, not a question. "So he's kicking you downstairs to me. How many masks do you owe him?"<br/>
<br/>
Keith wilts. "He says we have to start over. Five each."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Great.</i> "So, between my three new recruits getting fifteen masks, and you two assholes getting ten, I'm responsible for getting twenty-five masks for him."<br/>
<br/>
"Look, just get me a hiding place and stay out of my way," Lynch says."I'll make my quota and--"<br/>
<br/>
"You have your mask with you?" you interrupt. He nods and drops his back pack to the floor. "Is it all charged up with your latest memories?" He grunts an affirmative.<br/>
<br/>
You get up and cross over to him, and gut-punch him, hard. You haven't Frank's supernatural strength, but you're plenty strong in his own body, which is more powerful than it looks. Lynch bends double, and you strike him on the side of the head. He wobbles, then tries leaping at you, but you fell him with another blow.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm in charge over here, Lynch," you say in a low but firm voice. "You'll do what I say. You'll put on the mask I give you and you'll target the people I tell you and you'll do it on the time table I give you. Patterson gave you to me, and now <i>I've</i> got to prove I can do better than him at managing you. I'll turn you into a fucking golem before I admit I can't. Same goes for you, Tilley." Your old friend cowers.<br/>
<br/>
Lynch clambers to his knees. "You think you're such a fucking bad ass," he says in a slurred voice, "because you're all done up like--"<br/>
<br/>
You grab him by the hair and force him back down. "Yes I do. That's the great thing about these masks. They give you what the mask has, and this cocksucker is a bigger badass than you've ever met. Bigger than Patterson and Black put together. He wouldn't tolerate any bullshit from you, and as long as I'm him, I won't either." You throw him to the side and kick him in the stomach. A stream of ugly brown liquid runs from his mouth and puddles in the carpet.<br/>
<br/>
"Joe, call Ian, invite him over," you say. "Tilley, you got your mask with you?" His chin quivers as he nods. "Good. Carpenter's the captain of the basketball squad, and he's not dating anyone. That makes him the most eligible guy in school. Suck it, Joe, it's true," you tell your partner before he can object to the characterization. "If you can't get these jobs done as Ian, you'll deserve everything that's coming to you. In fact, I'm upping your job to <i>ten</i> masks. That's how easy it's going to be."<br/>
<br/>
Keith swallows hard, but nods.<br/>
<br/>
"As for you, Lynch--" you say as he glares up at you.<br/>
<br/>
But wheels, which have been turning in your mind all afternoon, are locking into position. While Joe talks to Ian you take out your own cellphone and move into the bedroom. Joanna isn't happy to hear your voice, and her reply to your abrupt question isn't happy either: "No, I haven't thought any more about doing a swap."<br/>
<br/>
"That's okay, because I've come up with a perfect place for you. Your friend Carrie," you add when she says nothing. <br/>
<br/>
She gasps, and in a quavering voice demands to know why she'd want to do a thing like that.<br/>
<br/>
"Carrie wants to be friends with you again," you explain. "You're not thrilled with that. It's because you don't understand her. You're not close any more. Give her a chance, Joanna. Get close. And there's no way to get closer to someone than by walking around in their shoes. Literally."<br/>
<br/>
She's silent for a very long time, and you wish you could have pitched this idea in person, so as to gauge and guide her reaction. But when she speaks again, you can tell you've already won: "Would she be okay with that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Leave that to me," you assure her. "But I think she'd be rather flattered with the idea of <i>you</i> wanting to be <i>her.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's not like <i>that</i>," she says in a very flustered tone.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course it isn't," you say, though you more than half suspect it is. "But if we put it that way, I think she'll be fine with it." You end by securing from her the promise that she'll find a way over to your house to make a swap, if you can arrange it with Carrie.<br/>
<br/>
Then you return to the living room. Joe says Ian is on his way over. That leaves Lynch to be dealt with.<br/>
<br/>
You mean to swap Dana and Sarah tonight. Probably you can use them to get Joanna's brother, David, and pass his identity along to Lynch. You'd like that, for David would cause Lynch lots of problems. But it might not sit well with the girls if they found out what you'd done.</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222222222
author_id: seuzz
title: A Sisterly Swap
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Ian Carpenter's elfin features--still brown from the summer--light up as he enters the house. "Nice of you guys to finally invite me over," he says. From anyone else it would sound like a veiled complaint, but Ian is almost always sincere when he says nice things.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I wish it were under happier circumstances," you say as you close the door. "We don't mean to be inhospitable, but home life here is, uh--"<br/>
<br/>
"Mom's in an asylum, and Dad had to run off on a job," Joe says.<br/>
<br/>
Ian's eyes pop with concern. "Shit, guys," he says. "I didn't know--"<br/>
<br/>
"We don't advertise it," you say, and gesture him into the living room. <i>Asylum?</i> you think to yourself. <i>Why does Joe always have to try to be clever?</i> "But with Dad gone for the next few weeks, it'll just be us. So we can open the place for entertaining."<br/>
<br/>
"If it's gonna be bad times for you--" Ian starts.<br/>
<br/>
"It's gonna be great times," you say. "And you're gonna help us fill it with friends. Joe?"<br/>
<br/>
You wrap your arms around Ian's torso, and Joe puts a mask to his face. He slumps in your arms, and you throw him onto the sofa. "I'll get Tilley. You get his clothes off." <br/>
<br/>
"I wish it was Jessica," Joe mutters as you exit the living room.<br/>
<br/>
You tap once on the bedroom door and open it without waiting for an answer. Lynch glares up from the bed. "Bathroom," he sneers when you ask where Keith is. "I didn't want him here with me without any clothes on."<br/>
<br/>
You rap on the bathroom door. "Yo, Tilley, your new face is here." The door opens a crack. "Come on, you're mobile, Carpenter isn't." The naked Keith glances at Lynch, then scuttles through the bedroom with his hands over his crotch, and darts out the door. "Why so shy about seeing Tilley naked?" you ask Jason. "That was you under Kendra's mask, right, when Tilley did it with her?" He glares. "So it's not like there's anything you haven't seen. Or touched. Or felt inside you."<br/>
<br/>
He stands up. You cough into your fist and he retreats. You close the door on him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Okay, you can go back to Westside, tell Patterson that Tilley is in for Carpenter," you tell the golem-Keith. <br/>
<br/>
He looks at Ian, who is buttoning his shirt with a vexed expression on his face. <br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. "Ian, tell the dipshit here--"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" he says. "Oh, yeah." He nods vacantly at his replacement. "Go tell Patterson whatever." He sits on the couch and starts to pull on his socks.<br/>
<br/>
"Is everything okay in there, Keith?" you ask after the golem has left.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sure, I guess," he says. "You're throwing me into the deep end, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Ian's easy to run."<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you, and it strikes you that he's locked inside a kind of flinch. "Well, can I hang out here until I'm ready to go home?"<br/>
<br/>
"I got people coming over. I don't want you here. Nothing personal, or against Ian. But they don't need to know that he's mixed up in this."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay." He is very subdued. "Can you at least tell me where this guy lives?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's a stunning revelation when he makes it, and it astonishes you. He hasn't got Ian's memories. In fact, he has never gotten more than wispy hints of memories when he's put on a mask. All these times that he's been putting on masks, he's been faking it through. And the same, he says, goes for the others—they too only get hints of personalities when putting on the masks.<br/>
<br/>
You leave him in the living room alone long enough to duck back into the bedroom to talk to Lynch, who mulishly confirms the the same. He's able to tell you more, though, which he has learned from Patterson. For everyone but you, it appears, the memories are frozen shut and only slowly start to thaw out over the course of many hours, but they fully unlock after a good sleep.<br/>
<br/>
You don't share with either him or Keith that you are able to get the memories instantly and fully, and when they query your surprise, you only stammer back that you get them a lot quicker. <br/>
<br/>
So that's a complication. <br/>
<br/>
Still, you don't need Ian Carpenter under foot this evening, so you give Keith Ian's address and advise him to turn off his phone, go home, and hide in the bedroom by pleading the need for a nap. "Maybe you will fall asleep," you tell him, "and that'll speed things up. At least, it'll give you an excuse for not talking to his folks."<br/>
<br/>
Then you dismiss him from your mind and turn to other plans.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Mrs. Pak is a small woman, and she greets you and Joe with a kindly mien as she lets you into the house. "Dana!" she calls.<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, we're here to see Sarah," you say. "I'm the teacher's aide in one of her classes, and I just wanted to stop by and talk to her about a project."<br/>
<br/>
"Is there something wrong?" Her face fills with alarm.<br/>
<br/>
"No, not at all," you say. "She had some questions about a school project, and we're just stopping by to fill her in." Dana has appeared at the head of the stairs in answer to the summons. "Can I just go up and talk to her? Joe, you can stay down here."<br/>
<br/>
You leave the charming one behind as you mount the stairs. Dana smiles at you, but she also looks around your shoulder at Joe. You feel a small pang of jealousy, for no good reason, since you can slip back under his face any time you choose.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Dana. I actually wanted to see you too," you tell her. She looks up at you with a slightly startled expression. "Can we go to your sister's room? It involves both of you." She blinks but leads you along the hallway, and knocks at a door. You lightly brush a stray strand of hair from her shoulder, and she gives you another little smile.<br/>
<br/>
The door opens, and Sarah gasps a little when she sees you. She hesitates a moment, then steps back to admit you. It looks like she's feeling a little doubt, now that the moment has come.<br/>
<br/>
You don't want to give her a chance to fuck anything up. So as soon as you and Dana are in the room, you close the door with your foot, take the mask from under your jacket, put an arm around Dana, and press the mask to her face. She falls into the crook of your arm, and you lower her onto the bed.<br/>
<br/>
Sarah gives a little yelp, and you quiet her with a word. "You need to put this one on too," you say as you pull her own mask out of your backpack. "It'll put all your most recent memories into it." After much thought, you've decided to golemize it with her hair: It'll cause fewer suspicions if she knows her replacement is under her control. <br/>
<br/>
Sarah takes the mask with shaking hands. "I guess it's too late now," she murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"Just think of David," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
<i>The magic words.</i> She sits on the floor and puts it on.<br/>
<br/>
You look around the room while the two girls are unconscious. It looks like a typical teenage girl's room, you decide, even though you've not been inside many. Some posters on the walls; stuffed animals in the corners; frilly curtains. You briefly wonder if Dana's room looks much different.<br/>
<br/>
You look at the two girls. They are not so much different: Flat, pie-pan faces, but attractive in that East Asian way. Dana's hair is shorter and more stylishly cut. She's a little bigger than her sister (no surprise); Sarah has a track-and-field physique. Her apparent athleticism might be something she could miss. You'd probably miss Frank's almost feral physicality if you switched back into Joe; on the other hand, Joe has the much better brain and is better with the girls. You don't know Dana well enough to know if she's smarter than her sister.<br/>
<br/>
A glow from the bed shows that Dana's mask has reappeared; a few seconds later Sarah's mask also appears. You take them up and switch them. Instantly, Dana changes into Sarah and sits up. "You okay there?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
The fake Sarah looks down at the new Dana, who is still unconscious. "I thought I was supposed to be--"<br/>
<br/>
"You are," you say. "She is. Look at your clothes."<br/>
<br/>
Sarah looks down and winces. "I wanted to be--"<br/>
<br/>
"Someone has to be Sarah. That someone is you. Start getting changed."<br/>
<br/>
"Not in front of you," she retorts.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh; there's the downside of not being the golem's master. You gently shake the new Dana awake. "Come on, honey. Today's the first day of the rest of your life."<br/>
<br/>
She sits up with a gasp, and her hands go to her face. She looks up at you with a look of terror, then looks over at her sister. Briefly she just stares. <br/>
<br/>
And then a smile creases her face. Probably she doesn't mean it to look evil, but it does. "Hi sis," she says. Sarah winces.<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to have to fake your way through as Dana until morning," you tell her. "That's when you'll get her full personality and set of memories. Now get changed," you order, "and meet me downstairs."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," she says softly. "David wanted to get together to study tonight. I told him I had plans." Her lips purse into a smirk. "Plans just changed."<br/>
<br/>
Lynch is waiting out in the car; you were going to stop by David Johnson's house when you were done here. Dana would give you an easier way into his house. But that would mean telling her about the switch you've planned.<br/>
<br/>
Alternately, you could make that switch later on, after picking up Carrie and Joanna and arranging for <i>their</i> swap.</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222222222
author_id: seuzz
title: Girls on a Merry-Go-Round
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I need you to run a short errand for me before you hook up with your new boyfriend," you tell the new Dana. "Pick up Carrie and Joanna and drop them by my house. If their parents ask, tell them you're taking the girls out for ice cream."<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Joe and I need to talk to them about what comes next."<br/>
<br/>
"Will I have to pick them up afterward?" she asks with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. She perks up again when you say you'll be taking them home.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Lynch has recovered enough spirit that he's pissed off when you haul him back to the house. "The fuck is going on?" he complains. "If you're not going to get me a new face, I might as well go home."<br/>
<br/>
"You'll be going home," you assure him. "Your new face is on her way over now." Lynch visibly starts at the pronoun, but you ignore it. "In the meantime you can hide your old face back in the bedroom where I don't have to look at it." You lay a finger against his chest and push him backwards down the hall and into the bedroom, where you shut the door.<br/>
<br/>
"Charming fellow," Joe mutters. "Has he any snakes lurking in the branches of his family tree?"<br/>
<br/>
"Rumor has it he has a very tiny worm in his shorts." You waggle a pinkie finger.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's another forty-five minutes before Joanna and Carrie ring the doorbell, which gives you time to eat. Carrie's eyes are shining with anticipation; Joanna is much more subdued. "Is Maddy here?" Carrie asks.<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head as you usher them into the living room and direct them to the sofa. "You'll have to wait until tomorrow, Carrie. We're taking care of Joanna right now."<br/>
<br/>
Carrie's eyes freeze, and then melt again. "Really. Who did you pick, Joanna?"<br/>
<br/>
"First of all," you interrupt while Joanna squirms in her seat, "let's get Joanna's mask up to date, so that the Joanna who wakes up in the morning will know everything she's supposed to. Just put this to your face," you tell her as you hold out the mask to her. "It will put you to sleep for a little while, but that's all." Her shoulders sag but her hands tense as she takes it. She holds her breath as she puts it on.<br/>
<br/>
You turn back to Carrie as Joanna falls to the side. "While she's out, you and I will talk. It will spare her a certain amount of embarrassment. She's decided that she wants to become <i>you,</i> Carrie."<br/>
<br/>
Carrie stares, and then takes the biggest gasp you've ever seen a human being attempt. "<i>Me?</i>" she squeals.<br/>
<br/>
"Are <i>you</i> going to be using your face?" you ask her quietly.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, no, but--"<br/>
<br/>
"Do you like sharing your things with your friends?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, yes, but--"<br/>
<br/>
"If one of your friends said that you had something she really, really liked, and you weren't going to be using it anymore, would you give it her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I--!" Her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. "She-- She wants to be ... <i>me</i>?"<br/>
<br/>
"I already said that." You cock an amused eyebrow at her. "She looks at you, and she says to herself, 'That's what I want'."<br/>
<br/>
Carrie turns very pink. "Really?" she squeaks. <br/>
<br/>
"Mm-hm. And I'd say it's a good choice." You lean down to give her knee just the tiniest pinch.<br/>
<br/>
Her blush deepens. "Wow. Well, I guess that would be okay."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm glad you understand, Carrie. You're a good friend." Her expression turns very smug. "Now, how about you put <i>this</i> mask on, so that Joanna won't miss a <i>minute</i> of your life." She takes her mask from you, and only the magical properties of the mask keep her from breaking her own nose as she slams it against her face.<br/>
<br/>
"Can you believe the ego on her?" you asks, turning to Joe. <br/>
<br/>
He leans over her, hands behind his back. "If I was three years younger I'd give her so much attention her ego would swell to encompass this state and all the ones next door."<br/>
<br/>
"That would count as ego-<i>deflation</i> with this one, I think."<br/>
<br/>
Minutes pass, and a mask falls out of Joanna. With some handy scissors you snip off some of her hair, then gently shake her awake. <br/>
<br/>
"Okay, sweetheart," you say. "How about you go hide in the guest bathroom while I finish up with Carrie. Get undressed, and pass your clothes to Joe. And Joe--" You glare at him. "Be a gentleman with her." He sticks his tongue out at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Is Carrie going to become me?" Joanna asks with obvious terror.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course not. I wouldn't do that to you."<br/>
<br/>
"But if I go home as her, who's--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about it. We've got a mindless thing in the back that is going to step in for you, so no one will miss Joanna Johnson. And Carrie will have a temporary home until tomorrow, when I switch her with Maddy."<br/>
<br/>
Joanna looks dubious, but suffers Joe to lead her away. You, meanwhile, take Joanna's mask back to the bedroom. "You got that mask of yours all charged up," you ask Lynch. He nods. "Good. Now get out of your clothes. I'm getting your stand-in ready."<br/>
<br/>
He grunts and begins to tear his clothes off. When he's done, you indicate that he should fold them. When he's done with that and you've collected them, you make a point of staring him straight in the face. He glowers back, and then defiantly turns full-frontal on you. You pointedly refrain from glancing down at the fork between his legs, and he gets progressively redder and redder as you ignore his crotch.<br/>
<br/>
Not until Joe pops up behind you with a comment does Lynch break into grimace. "Whoa, will you look at the size of <i>that</i> thing," Joe says. "Well, try looking at it if you've got a microscope."<br/>
<br/>
"Ignore him, he's an idiot," you tell Lynch. You take Joanna's clothes from Joe and pass them and her mask to Lynch. "Here's your new body. Temporarily. We'll talk about your next move after you've got it all on." You almost wink at him, but decide that would be less cruel than just shutting the door with a mirthless smile.<br/>
<br/>
Carrie's mask has reappeared by now, and you wake her. "We're all set for the next step," you tell her. "You wanna undress in the garage?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't mind stripping here," she grins. "I'd rather you see the <i>real</i> me."<br/>
<br/>
You turn your hands palm-side up, and shrug.<br/>
<br/>
She starts with her baby blue sneakers; probably she means to be coquettish as she pulls them off, but she's still young and more than a little clumsy. After that, she unbuttons her crisp white blouse, letting it drop off one shoulder and then the next. She forgot to untuck it, though, so there's another fumbling moment as he pulls it loose. She turns around to unbutton her blue jeans, and smiles over her shoulder. She has a cute butt, which she exposes as she pulls the jeans down, but again the effect is more than ruined by the way she thrusts it out as she bends over to pull her feet out of the legs, and she tumbles face-first onto the sofa. She rolls over, and with a thin smile you tug the jeans off her. Then she's back on her feet, and again turned around as she starts to take off the bra. Her fingers tug at the back, and you direct Joe to help her. Finally she peels off her panties, and turns around with a "Ta da!" expression.<br/>
<br/>
Joe claps enthusiastically. You just smash Lynch's mask onto her surprised face. Jason instantly appears, and he falls back onto the sofa. "Get up, Lynch," you snarl, and hurl Lynch's clothes at the golem. "Go back in the bedroom and see if your dipshit original is awake yet." <br/>
<br/>
Joe hums softly to himself as he gently folds Carrie's things. You shove her mask at him. "Just get all those things back to Joanna."<br/>
<br/>
Lynch, in both golem and Joanna form, is the first to appear. You jab a finger at the golem but direct your instructions to Joanna.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm going to be calling that thing tomorrow, to bring it over for another switch. You tell it to come when I whistle." Joanna mumbles the instructions to the golem, and then you send it home. "As for you, Lynch. There's a girl in the bathroom. She looks like Carrie Carmichael, but she's really this girl here.<br/>
<br/>
"No," you continue, "As far as she is concerned, you're a golem. You stay perfectly in character when you're with her, and you do what she says, like a good golem." She flushes. "She's got a brother, David, and we're going to arrange for him to come out here tomorrow, and you'll switch with him."<br/>
<br/>
"Can you at least tell me what to expect when I get back to this cunt's house?" Joanna snarls at you.<br/>
<br/>
"No, because I don't know a thing about her. Just throw a tantrum, hide in the bedroom, and tell your mom she doesn't understand you when she asks what's wrong. By tomorrow morning you'll know what's what. Joe." You turn to your brother. "Take her home. We got 'er her ice cream." Joanna snarls, but Joe's grip on her upper arm is firm.<br/>
<br/>
You drop onto the couch and wait for the new Carrie to appear. You're starting to get a headache, and hope she doesn't cause any new issues for you. This whole day has been one big--<br/>
<br/>
And then she appears, stepping almost shyly into the living room. Her expression is wide-eyed but gnomic. She slowly advances on you.<br/>
<br/>
"How is it?" you ask her. Carrie continues to advance. "You know I had to give Carrie that line we talked about. You wanting to be her." She doesn't slow or pause, even when she's at your feet. "I don't know how long--"<br/>
<br/>
She straddles your lap, throws her arms around your neck, and mashes her lips against yours.</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222222222
author_id: seuzz
title: As the Carousel Spins
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You let out a little grunt. This version of Carrie is being affectionate in a way that is a little too clumsy to be completely arousing, but much too ardent to be completely ineffective. You wrap your arms around her, but clasp her shoulders and gently pry her off you.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't think I want you to stop," you tell her. "But if Carrie goes back to being herself, she's going to need to remember everything you did while you were her. Including this. Do you want that?"<br/>
<br/>
Her face falls a little. "Is Carrie going to go back to being herself? Like, ever?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." You rub her back. "But if she says she wants to, it's going to be hard to tell her no."<br/>
<br/>
She wilts. "So what's the point of being her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, the point is to <i>be</i> her. Do what she would do, act the way she would act."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes narrow with mischief. "I think this <i>is</i> what she'd do." She grinds against your lap as she shifts her weight.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you have to admit. "She's not subtle with the signals." You put your hands on her hips. "But you don't want to make her jealous, do you?"<br/>
<br/>
She pouts. "Maybe I do," she says in a small voice. Her expression darkens. "But you just don't--"<br/>
<br/>
You pull her close. "Carrie," you say in a light, teasing tone. "We were talking about turning you girls into seniors, so that it would be easier to do things like this."<br/>
<br/>
She buries her face in your neck and mutters something. "Shawn and Jonathan have girlfriends in our class," she says when you ask her to repeat what she said. <br/>
<br/>
"Joe's not going to get himself a girlfriend," you tell her gently. "Not when he can have lots of girlfriends. And I'm a little more interested in being with girls my own age. Also, Sarah and Monique are pretty mature for their ages."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're saying I should switch from Carrie to a senior?"<br/>
<br/>
"If you want." This seems like a good thing to encourage. At the same time you need to be careful. "But what do <i>you</i> want, Joanna?" She tenses at the use of her real name. "Do you want to be a senior girl? Do you want me for a boyfriend? Or do you want to be Carrie Carmichael?"<br/>
<br/>
She pulls back and looks at you with a hooded expression. She cocks her head.<br/>
<br/>
"You, for a boyfriend?" She sniffs. "No. Not even Carrie wants you for a boyfriend. She just wants people to think you're her boyfriend. Or that Joe is. Or some big senior guy."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Interesting,</i> you think. <i>Either she is getting the memories fast, or she really knows Carrie. Or she's just putting the worst spin on her friend's intentions.</i><br/>
<br/>
But you only say, "And me? Do you want me for a boyfriend?" <br/>
<br/>
She rolls off you and huddles in the corner of the sofa.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think so," she says. "I mean, you're good-looking and all, and you're kind of hot when you're dressed right. But you're too old for me. And you're kind of scary." Her eyes travel up and down your frame. "Even if you made a mask of a guy in my class, I think I wouldn't want you for a boyfriend, because I'd know who you were."<br/>
<br/>
"So you want to be Carrie," you conclude. "You know, she would really like to hang out with Alyssa and them." The girl giggles. "She'd really like it if 'Carrie Carmichael' was part of that group, and as Maddy Caron she could arrange it."<br/>
<br/>
"Oo, she would, wouldn't she? Yeah!" She laughs again. "I should be Carrie. She can be kind of a bad girl." <br/>
<br/>
She smiles in kind of an evil way. "Be my boyfriend, Frank?" she asks. She pops the top button of her jeans. "I'll let you, so I can tell people I did it with you."<br/>
<br/>
"No," you say. "That's not consistent with my reputation."<br/>
<br/>
"I think I'll tell them anyway," she grins.<br/>
<br/>
"You do, and I'll put you in a different mask."<br/>
<br/>
The threat doesn't stop her from pouting and flirting until Joe gets back. You direct him to take her home, and pointedly warn him to keep things "Platonic" with her, no matter how flirty she gets.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Joe!" Ian calls, and his hand shoots out past Dutoit. Joe looks in his direction, but doesn't seem to see him. Instead, he tries to swing around past Gregory, who is blocking him, and then tries to dart back the other way when Shawn moves to intercept. Ian calls again, but while Joe is hesitating Shawn's hand darts in and he slaps the ball out of Joe's distracted grasp. There's a scramble, and Straussler swoops in to retrieve it. The players break for the other side of the court, and your side gives up a basket.<br/>
<br/>
You trot up to Joe and give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Looks like Tigger has lost some of his bounce," you tease.<br/>
<br/>
"And we know why <i>that</i> is, don't we?" He glares at you. "You're doing fine."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I'm giving about seventy percent today instead of sixty, so I'm lookin' good."<br/>
<br/>
Ian trots up with a concerned look on his face as Joe. "You doin' okay, Joe?" he asks. "You seem off your usual game."<br/>
<br/>
"I think Joe needs a private, motivational speech, cap," you tell him. "Me too."<br/>
<br/>
Ian nods. "You have a special request for me?" he asks in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Straussler. We need the money. We've only got three masks left, and that's only 'cos you and Lynch brought spares. I'll pass one along to you later today." Ian nods again, and trots away, calling to the other players.<br/>
<br/>
"I wanna ski trip out of Straussler," Joe mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"What happens if I break one of your legs, to cover your suddenly awful performance?"<br/>
<br/>
"You wouldn't!"<br/>
<br/>
"Sometimes we gotta take one for the team."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After practice you duck into the freshman wing to find your girls at their lockers: Sarah (a golem), Joanna (secretly Lynch) , and Carrie (really Joanna). "Frank!" the latter squeals when you appear, and grabs at you. You deflect her by grabbing her hands; she entwines her fingers with yours and lunges in, playfully trying to bite you. You hold her off with a smile while talking over her head. "Hey Joanna, how about you come over after school, around five? Get your brother to drop you off."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyebrows go up fractionally. "Do I have to do what you say, Frank?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Asshole.</i> "Carrie, tell Joanna she has to come out to the house at around five."<br/>
<br/>
"Do what Frank says, Joanna," Carrie imperiously commands over her shoulder. Joanna rolls her eyes as Carrie returns to wrestling with you. "Do I get to come out too?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"That's not necessary," you say. "And I'm afraid I'd lose a wrestling contest with you." She giggles and growls at you.<br/>
<br/>
"What're you hanging out here for, Frank?" a voice says from behind you. It's Straussler, and you turn to find him with his arm around his own freshman girlfriend. "Got your eye on anyone?"<br/>
<br/>
"I got my eye on lots of people," you tell him, and let a gleam come into your eye as you stare back at him. You twist Carrie's arms down to her sides and lightly pinch her ass. She yelps. You release her and jump back into the crowd before she can pursue you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The rest of the day passes with a mix of anticipation and aggravation: So many pieces have to come together. Joanna has to arrive with David, so that you can put Lynch inside the latter; the golem-Lynch has to show up, as does Maddy, so you can finally put Carrie inside the girl she has chosen. You've left Joe in charge of getting Maddy to come out: he's more charming, and you're tired of dealing with silly girls.<br/>
<br/>
But it all comes off. You're a little staggered when you drive up to the house to find golem-Lynch already waiting. He had been surly and uncooperative when you'd called, even though his master had told it to obey you. You quickly move to get rid of it, forcing it back into the bedroom, where you pull the mask off of Carrie. You shake her awake, and when she's got her eyes focused again you give her a robe and tell her to change. You also order her to stay in the bedroom. You don't want to deal with the real girl after fighting off her replacement yesterday.<br/>
<br/>
Then Joanna and David arrive. You're waiting out front with masks and clothes, and quickly move on the driver's side window to press your second blank mask onto David's face before he can even react. You order Joanna into the house while dealing with David. After the mask has come off him you put Lynch's mask to his face and give him clothes to change into. He's happy to follow your directive to take Lynch's car back home when he's done.<br/>
<br/>
From the garage you fetch the sealant you'd made last night from Joanna's hair, then charge into the bathroom with only a pro forma knock. Lynch is laying naked and unconscious in the bathtub, and you wake him with a spray of cold water from the shower head. He curses you hard. "Keep your voice down," you tell him. "There's a girl next door."<br/>
<br/>
"Lemme guess, she's for me," he grouses.<br/>
<br/>
"You already know your new bolt hole. David Johnson." <br/>
<br/>
Again he curses. "What good can I do by pretending to be <i>that</i> cocksucker?"<br/>
<br/>
None. And that's the point.</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222222222222
author_id: seuzz
title: Final Places
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You can get Tina Branson," you tell Lynch as you seal up David's mask.<br/>
<br/>
His face falls. "Did you just pull that name out of your ass?"<br/>
<br/>
"More or less. But she's one of the names on the list."<br/>
<br/>
"Gimme another?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Natalie Dawkins. Lisa Rickover. Mandy Simpson--"<br/>
<br/>
"I can't get close to them, not as Johnson!" <br/>
<br/>
"Then we should go ahead and turn you into a golem."<br/>
<br/>
His face twists in fear and anger. "You're doing this on purpose!"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course I am. It's a test, like Patterson would give you, and you better not flunk it." You hand him David's mask. "Figure out a way to use this face to get close to them. But you can take tonight off, and go hang out with other new friends," you add, twisting the knife.<br/>
<br/>
He mutters long and loudly under his breath before putting the mask on. You ignore him and concentrate on sealing up Joanna's mask so you can put it on Maddy.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After all those vibrating nerves you'd suffered while waiting for people to show up, you actually have to wait an inordinately long time for Joe and Maddy to appear. So long that you have to stick your head into the bedroom and bathroom both to tell their occupants to continue sitting tight.<br/>
<br/>
When Joe and Maddy finally do show up, you bother with just enough small talk to cover the hijacking. "Maddy, you look adorable. Joe, how about you give her a hug for me?" She squeals as he puts his arms around her--and then you put her mask to her face so you can recharge it with her latest memories. "The fuck took you guys so long?" you demand as she sinks against Joe.<br/>
<br/>
"She was busy with her friends," Joe says as he hoists her up and carries her over to the sofa.<br/>
<br/>
"Is your charm as rusty your basketball skills? You couldn't get her away?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was busy with her friends too." He grins. "And you said we had to be careful that people didn't run into each other out here."<br/>
<br/>
Well, it finally ends with you getting one mask out of Maddy and Joanna's onto her; the golem isn't pleased with having to change in the living room, until you and Joe exit. You take Maddy's mask and clothes into the bedroom. "Finally," Carrie gasps, as though you haven't been doing a huge favor for her. While she's unconscious, you hustle the new David and Joanna Johnson out the door.<br/>
<br/>
"Think you could deal with Maddy for me?" you groan at Joe as you collapse onto the sofa. "I'm so sick of girls."<br/>
<br/>
"You must be feverish," he retorts. "I'd be in there helping her change if it was up to me."<br/>
<br/>
"So why aren't you in there now?"<br/>
<br/>
He stares, then hops to the bedroom faster than he was moving at basketball practice.<br/>
<br/>
He's in there for almost fifteen minutes, and he and the new Maddy are looking quite flushed when they emerge. "Your brother is so adorable," the girl says. "I don't understand why he isn't taken." Joe grins over her shoulder and puts an arm around her waist. She reaches up and behind to ruffle the hair over his ear.<br/>
<br/>
"My brother <i>knows</i> he's cute, and that's why he won't <i>let</i> himself be taken," you dryly reply. "He likes having lots of girlfriends."<br/>
<br/>
"Then it's too bad I can't be lots of girls," Carrie replies. <br/>
<br/>
You'd rather expected her to be very excited and silly and girlish in her new guise--a lot like Joanna was being as the old Carrie--and are surprised at how arch and mature she is acting. You are even more pleased at the opening she has given you.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, there's no reason you <i>can't</i> be more than one girl," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean? Oh. You mean, I can switch back and forth being myself and being <i>Carrie.</i>" She sniffs and shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, like that. But why limit yourself to two? We can arrange for you to be up to five."<br/>
<br/>
<i>That</i> catches her attention, so much so that it robs her of speech.<br/>
<br/>
"Absolutely," you continue. "Think of them as spare homes. You can have five people, and switch among them whenever you want. Joe would like that. One girlfriend with five different faces." <br/>
<br/>
Joe grins.<br/>
<br/>
"Who could I be?" Carrie asks breathlessly.<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "Give us a list. Ten names. We'll pick from them. Give 'em to Joe tomorrow." You'd prefer not to deal with her if you don't have to.<br/>
<br/>
Later that night Ian passes along a mask of Straussler to you, along with a credit card he snagged off the richest kid in town. You give him Kyle Lakewood and Jenny Taylor as his next acquisitions. <br/>
<br/>
That's it for the day.<br/>
<br/>
Not until the trick-or-treaters start showing up do you remember that today, with all the mask-switching and body-jacking, was also Halloween.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Come Monday, your recruits seem scarce on the ground, and after third period you go looking for Joe, to see if he has gotten any names from Maddy. To your chagrin, he's not in the classroom he's supposed to be in. Instead, he's sitting in your second-period English class, slouching in one of the desks, staring vacantly at the chalkboard with a dazed expression on his face. "Looking for me?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you blankly. "No. I'm waiting for class to start."<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you had social studies second period."<br/>
<br/>
"I do. See, here's my homework." He shows you a piece of paper. It has the names of ten girls on it. You snatch it from him.<br/>
<br/>
"If you have social studies this period, what are you doing here in Katz's classroom?"<br/>
<br/>
"I have Katz for class," he says defensively.<br/>
<br/>
Snickers break out from the students around him; now you notice that they've been watching you and Joe with mirthful expressions. You pinch the bridge of your nose. <br/>
<br/>
"Joe," you say in a loud voice, "do you have Katz for English third period?"<br/>
<br/>
His mouth drops, and he looks around wildly. "Shit, I gotta get outta here!" He scrambles at his books and stumbles to his feet. "Can you turn that in for me, Frank," he asks, pointing to his "homework." "Thanks!" He runs out the room.<br/>
<br/>
Chortles break out. You slip the paper into your own books and take the vacated seat.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Third period is a Spanish class, which means you <i>will</i> have to deal with Maddy. She is engrossed in her cell phone as you enter, but she glances up as you come in the doorway, and breaks into a huge grin. "Come sit next me, Frank?" She pats the desk behind her.<br/>
<br/>
You slide in with a fake smile. "You're looking chipper."<br/>
<br/>
Her grin is so wide it's frightening. She turns and actually lifts her breasts so they rest on the back of the chair. "How about we get together after school? Just you and me?"<br/>
<br/>
"And Joe?" you ask warily (and wearily).<br/>
<br/>
"And Joe," she says agreeably.<br/>
<br/>
"Then it wouldn't just be you and me."<br/>
<br/>
"Would you rather it just be you and me?"<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't matter, Maddy. If you want to get together--" Her cell phone makes a noise, and she whips it back into view. She gasps as she reads the message. "An earthquake over in E wing?" you ask dryly.<br/>
<br/>
"Practically," she says breathlessly. "Oh my God, this switch--!"<br/>
<br/>
"Shh!" <i>Now</i> she has to be excited.<br/>
<br/>
She daintily covers her mouth with her hand. "I mean, it was just in time," she says in a harsh whisper. "Have you heard about David Johnson?"<br/>
<br/>
Your heart does a somersault. "No. What?"<br/>
<br/>
She leans forward. "He's decided to come out of the closet," she says gleefully.<br/>
<br/>
You blink slowly, and then bolt from your chair.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Luckily, you know he has Mr. Howard's History class. From the doorway you beckon at David; he shakes his head. You beckon again, and he slowly gets out of his desk and comes over. You put your arm around his neck and lead him out into the hallway. You pat his shoulder encouragingly. "Is David really gay," you ask him in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Hell, no," he snorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Then why are you fucking things up for him by coming out of the closet? Is Jason Lynch gay?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm trying to get to Tina," he mutters back.<br/>
<br/>
"Does Tina have a thing for gay guys?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. Well, I dunno." He continues over your interruption. "But they like gossip, right? So I went to her, said I wanted to talk to her about something important. Telling her I was a fag-- I mean, that David Johnson is a faggot seemed like a good ice breaker."<br/>
<br/>
"Telling a girl she looks nice is a good ice breaker. Asking if she has Cussler for History is a good ice breaker. Telling her that you're gay--"<br/>
<br/>
"But with these girls--"<br/>
<br/>
"--is a really fucked up thing to do."<br/>
<br/>
"It got me in," he says triumphantly.<br/>
<br/>
You pause. "You got a mask of her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, no."<br/>
<br/>
"Then you didn't get in."<br/>
<br/>
"But I'm supposed to get together with her and Alyssa and them, so they can figure out how to help me break the news to the rest of the school, my parents, the people at church--"<br/>
<br/>
"The news has already broken!" You double your pace and march him out a side door, where you slam him up against a wall. "Maddy Caron knows! Maddy Caron--" You take a deep breath. "Maddy Caron, at least since yesterday afternoon, has major self-control issues. You might as well call up <i>The New York Times</i> as tell her that David Johnson is gay!"<br/>
<br/>
"<i>The Times</i> doesn't care."<br/>
<br/>
You punch the wall next to his head. "I mean you've just broadcast it all over the school!"<br/>
<br/>
"So?"<br/>
<br/>
Maybe if you got "Maddy" to move quickly on her friends you could cap this bone-headed play that Lynch has set up.</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222222222221
author_id: seuzz
title: Not That There's Anything Wrong With That
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You pound your fist against the wall, right next to David Johnson's head.<br/>
<br/>
"We can find a way to fix things," you say in a voice that rumbles up from the soles of your feet. "But it's a problem, and you're going to make yourself part of the solution."<br/>
<br/>
He refuses to be daunted. "Sure," he shrugs. "How?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maddy is going to get together with some of her friends this afternoon to talk about your case. You help make sure that they <i>get</i> together."<br/>
<br/>
"That was the plan!" he insists. "I was going to--"<br/>
<br/>
"And you're going to get help. Because you're a fuck up. We wouldn't be talking if you hadn't come up with this fucked up way of-- Because, listen!" You hit the wall again, and he shuts his mouth. "We need to stop this rumor you've started, get the genie back in the bottle. If we don't--" You jab a hard finger in his chest. "If we don't, then David Johnson is <i>going</i> to come out of the closet, and in a really big way. You've sucked off guys before, Lynch. Patterson had you doing that. But you had a female psychology to help you then. But this time, you'll only have Johnson and <i>yourself</i> to make it convincing and enjoyable."<br/>
<br/>
David pales and swallows.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey!" a voice calls, and you look over your shoulder. Kyle Lakewood is frowning at you. "There a problem over here, Durras?"<br/>
<br/>
"Back to class, Johnson," you tell David, and clap him on the shoulder. He trudges away.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle draws up. "What was all that about?" he asks, and his voice and eyes are hard.<br/>
<br/>
"Johnson did something really stupid, and I was telling him it was stupid. That's all."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah?" Lakewood's tone is skeptical. "What was it?"<br/>
<br/>
"You haven't heard? Good, you don't want to hear."<br/>
<br/>
"Pushing people around isn't--"<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't pushing him around, Lakewood. You don't want to make this your business."<br/>
<br/>
"<i>You</i> don't want me to make it my business," he retorts. "I thought you'd noticed by now, the 'tough guy' act doesn't go down good around here."<br/>
<br/>
He holds your eye, and you hold his. But you're the first to relent. "It was just tough love, Kyle. Really. I don't like it when guys fuck themselves up--"<br/>
<br/>
"It's a free country. We can all go to hell our own special way."<br/>
<br/>
The bell rings. "Well, I've got my own special hell to get to," you say. "I'll catch you around."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After Spanish, you pull Maddy aside for a private conference behind one of the wings.<br/>
<br/>
"Get your friends together tonight," you tell her. "You know, Alyssa and Tina and them, not Joanna and Sarah." You're not sure you trust Carrie to get the difference. "Get them out to your house. Me and Joe will show up with some masks--"<br/>
<br/>
"We're going to make masks of all of them?" she squeals.<br/>
<br/>
"Keep your voice down. Yeah, that's exactly what we're going to do. Get you in good by giving you control of that whole group."<br/>
<br/>
"Ooo!"<br/>
<br/>
"We're giving you a lot of power in the school, Carrie," you say. "You're going to have to use it wisely, listen to Joe and me. The first thing you're going to have to do is bottle up this silly rumor about David Johnson being gay."<br/>
<br/>
"But he is! He told--!"<br/>
<br/>
"He's just confused! I had a little talk with him before class. There was a misunderstanding, that's all, and your group is going to have to make sure that no one gets the wrong idea about David."<br/>
<br/>
She puts her hand on her hip. "You think there's something wrong with being gay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe there's nothing wrong with being gay, but there's something wrong with people thinking a dude's gay when he isn't. And David isn't."<br/>
<br/>
"Why are you suddenly so concerned about David?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Where's Sarah?" you retort.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. Probably in P.E. It's sixth, and she--"<br/>
<br/>
"I mean your friend, the real one, not the fake we left in her place."<br/>
<br/>
"In that case, I think Dana has-- Oh!" Her eyes widen.<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly. Sarah likes David. A lot. That's why she wanted to switch with her sister--"<br/>
<br/>
"Which is all kinds of squicky!"<br/>
<br/>
"--because David likes Dana. He does, doesn't he?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," she says truculently. "<i>Sarah</i> thinks he does, but if he's gay--"<br/>
<br/>
"He's not--!" You shove down the urge to throttle her. "He's not gay. He just said something that got misconstrued."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes narrow. "Are you thinking about-- Oh my God, are you thinking about using a mask on <i>David,</i> so that--"<br/>
<br/>
"Just make sure some of your friends show up at your house. Leave the complicated stuff to me."<br/>
<br/>
She continues to stare at you narrowly, but nods. As with David, you clap her on the shoulder to send her on her way. <i>Fucking girls,</i> you fume to yourself. It was a mistake putting someone as smart and as dumb as Carrie inside someone who was is as smart and as dumb as Maddy. Smart enough to see the worst possible conclusions to leap to, and stupid enough to leap to them.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I need you to be your most charming, Joe," you tell him as you pull up in front of Maddy's house shortly after dinner. You don't like the pile of cars that are already there, and worry about what "Maddy" and "David" will have been telling the others; your only solace is that after you get the masks in place, it won't matter what has been said. "You need to get the girls off alone. Breathe in their faces and then get the masks on them." You pat the rucksack that has the masks and golem sealant. You'd spent a frantic afternoon securing supplies with Straussler's stolen credit card, and polishing up masks and making mind-bands. Even with Joe's help, you'd only got two done.<br/>
<br/>
"Does that include Johnson?" Joe asks. "I hear he's gay, and I can't help it if I'm sexy."<br/>
<br/>
You just snort. "I'll draw Maddy off first-- Shut up." Joe bites his lip to suppress the snicker. "I need to get some of Carrie's hair so we can-- Oh, fuck, why am I explaining things to <i>you</i>?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because it helps to talk to someone who's actually smart?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was a rhetorical question. Come on."<br/>
<br/>
Your heart falls when you step into Maddy's den, where the hens are all perched around a David Johnson who looks rather put upon. There's four of them: Maddy, Tina Branson, Mandy Simpson, and Natalie Dawkins. Not enough masks to go around. <br/>
<br/>
Joe drops to his knees behind the couch and puts his mouth close to Tina's ear. He whispers something, and she squeals. You chuck your chin at Maddy. "Hey, sorry to barge in, but I got this project--"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, right!" She hurries over. David rises too, with a hopeful expression, but sits back down when you glower at him. "Have you got it in here?" She puts her hands on the rucksack. <br/>
<br/>
"I'll show you out-- Joe, don't get too entertained. We're not gonna be here long."<br/>
<br/>
"Will you make up your mind?" he demands.<br/>
<br/>
"Just remember what I said out in the car." You draw Maddy into a hallway. "We need a place where we can do the masking," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"How about here?" She opens a door; it leads into a walk-in linen closet, and she turns on the light.<br/>
<br/>
"Good as any place." You squint around, and put the sack on a shelf. "Now, I need you out of that mask."<br/>
<br/>
"How come?" she asks in alarm, and puts her hands to her cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos I need some of your hair, Carrie, your real hair. It's part of the spell."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Okay. But I don't know how much good this'll do. David is being really <i>weird.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
You groan. "Like how?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's not making any sense. Like, he says he's interested in experimenting, and then he says he's not gay, and then he says he catches himself checking out other boys, but then he--"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Either Lynch is being very good at play-acting sexual confusion, or he's even more of a fuck up than you figured.</i> "We'll get him straightened out," you assure her.<br/>
<br/>
"How?" she asks darkly. "With a mask?"<br/>
<br/>
"Leave that to--" You put your arm around her shoulders and grab her brow with the other hand. She grimaces as you utter the magical words and tug. Carrie Carmichael sags into your arm, and you drop her to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
You snip off some of her hair with your teeth, throw it into the sealant tub, and set it on fire; you pray there's not a smoke alarm nearby.<br/>
<br/>
You put the mask back onto Carrie, but before you can revive her, your cell phone rings. You curse as you note the ID. "Yeah," you brusquely answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Frank, this is Dana," she says. "Is this a bad time?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kind of. I'm in the middle of--"<br/>
<br/>
"I want to talk to you about David."<br/>
<br/>
You tense. This could be good news or bad news. "What about him?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's this rumor going around school that--" She takes a deep breath, and the rest of her words come out in a rush. "He's supposed to be in love with <i>me</i>, Frank! And there's this rumor that he's telling people that--"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't pay attention to gossip, Dana. Er, <i>Sarah.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"But if he's telling people that he's-- Do you know what I'm talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've heard the same rumor, and it's bullshit."<br/>
<br/>
"How do you know?" she plaintively wails. "He was acting all weird today, and--" Her tone grows very doubtful. "You had him out at your house yesterday. Did you <i>do</i> something to him?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Damn these girls for being so perceptive. Or paranoid.</i> Maybe the thing to do is confess that David Johnson is not himself, that he's been temporarily replaced, but that you're fixing things. The alternative is to tell her a story--a story that might not jibe with what "David" has been telling Maddy's friends.</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222222222212
author_id: seuzz
title: Shuffling Faces
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Temporize,</i> you tell yourself. <i>If the girls find out there's other fakes in play, they'll become unmanageable.</i><br/>
<br/>
"He's not gay," you tell her firmly. "It's just a joke that got out of hand."<br/>
<br/>
"But how do you--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I'm over at Maddy Caron's right now, and he's here with her and some of her friends. That's what he's telling them."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, but with them he'd say <i>anything,</i>" she moans. A sniffle comes into her voice. "I really want it to be <i>us,</i> Frank, that was the whole point of--"<br/>
<br/>
"And it <i>will</i> be you and him. Trust me, Sarah. We're getting it all straightened out. Maddy will see to that. You know Maddy." You look down wryly at the still-unconscious Maddy. "She's your <i>friend.</i> She'll take care of things."<br/>
<br/>
"If you say so, Frank." Her tone is still doubtful. "But--"<br/>
<br/>
"I have to go now. I told you I was in the middle of something, and that something is helping you out. We'll talk later." <br/>
<br/>
You hang up, and crouch next to Maddy, gently nudging her awake. "Come on, Maddy, your friends are waiting for you," you say, and draw her to her feet. She blinks stupidly. "Get the sand out of your eyes."<br/>
<br/>
"Did you--? Oh, I'm woozy."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, the girls always get faint when I hold them."<br/>
<br/>
She gives you a muzzy smile. "You know, Frank, all the girls like your brother because he's so flirty, but <i>you're</i> the one they--"<br/>
<br/>
"You want to be my girlfriend, Maddy? Or does <i>Tina</i> want to be my girlfriend? Maybe it's Natalie?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, <i>I</i> want-- Oh! You mean--"<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. You pick which one you want to go out with me. It could be any of them, after we--"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe <i>you</i> could be all flirty, like Joe?" She puts her hand on your chest. "Maybe me and my <i>friends</i>--" She giggles. "We could take turns with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Let's get the chicks hatched before we count them. Go tell Joe where I am. He'll know what to do."<br/>
<br/>
She grimaces and withdraws, leaving you alone in the linen closet. You check the golem sealant--the small fire has gone out, and you close the lid so no more smoke will drift out. You pull a blank mask from the rucksack and tuck it between some sheets. Then you pull it out and set it <i>on</i> the sheets. You frown and fidget and wonder what the <i>hell</i> is keeping Joe.<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a long time to wait.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, there's a soft tap at the door, and it opens just enough for Joe to stick his dopey face in. "I thought Johnson was the closet case," he says. "Frank, I never suspe--"<br/>
<br/>
You haul him in by the shirt. He's got Tina by the wrist, and he wrenches her along too, banging her face against the edge of the door. You grasp her and apologize profusely as you pull her in.<br/>
<br/>
She pats her nose tenderly. "Yeah, well, what are we doin' in here?" Her soft, Southern accent has a vexed edge. <br/>
<br/>
"Gosh, I hope I didn't bruise you," you say. "You've got such a pretty nose, and-- Lemme see it." You touch it tenderly, and as you stroke it, she closes her eyes. In that vulnerable state, you take down the mask and put it to her face. She sags against Joe, and he envelops her in an embrace.<br/>
<br/>
"How long is she going to be out," Joe asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Ten minutes, probably."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. Lots of time to--" He cups her prodigious breasts.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't get too excited, Joe."<br/>
<br/>
"Define 'too excited'. I'm supposed to follow your orders, Frank, but some are easier to interpret than others."<br/>
<br/>
Time passes in a tense and yet boring way, with nothing to do while you wait for the mask; you hush Joe when he tries to speak. Tina's perfume fills the air, and you find yourself eyeing her openly. She's blonde, and stacked, and has a pert mouth. You fully sympathize with Joe's desire to play with her. She'll be one of Carrie's "homes", and Carrie has all but offered to--<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head free of the temptation, and fight down your boner.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, the mask comes out of her, and you quickly seal it up. But you don't put it on her. Instead, you hand it to Joe. "Where are you going?" he asks. <br/>
<br/>
"To get Maddy. Tina's her slave now, and she needs to be here to give first orders. Which <i>I'm</i> going to give to <i>her.</i><br/>
<br/>
There's an acrid atmosphere in the den. At first, in your anxiety, you worry it's the stench from the fire you set, but from the various expressions you decide it must be frustration at the conversation they've been having. You gesture Maddy out with the words "Tina wants to talk to you." Natalie and Mandy look back as Maddy rises; plainly, they'd like an excuse for a break too.<br/>
<br/>
"How long is this going to take?" Maddy whispers. "God, we're all <i>dying</i> in there!"<br/>
<br/>
"Not long. After you go back in, get rid of one of your friends--Natalie or Mandy--but keep the other. You know, the one you want for--"<br/>
<br/>
"I want <i>both</i> of them!" She stops short just outside the linen closet door.<br/>
<br/>
"And you'll get both of them, but not today. We only had two masks with us. And get rid of David, too."<br/>
<br/>
"Gladly," she snorts. "I didn't even invite him over, he just barged in with-- Tina!" She gasps as the girl half-falls out of the closet.<br/>
<br/>
You bundle everyone back in and shut the door. It's very close, and stinks of burning plastic. "I'm going to put this mask on Tina now," you tell Maddy. "She's going to wake up. But it's not going to be Tina. It's going to be a fake. It'll act just like her, but she's going to be your slave."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" Maddy's eyebrows go up. "Like, she'll do my homework or--"<br/>
<br/>
"If you tell her to," you reply. "But don't. Treat her <i>exactly</i> as if she were the real girl." You raise a warning finger. "No one can suspect what's going on. She has to be totally normal." Maddy nods.<br/>
<br/>
Tina groans softly, and you put the mask on her. Her eyes instantly open. "Maddy," you say, "tell Tina that she is your slave, and she has to do exactly what you say."<br/>
<br/>
Maddy turns on Tina with a slightly ashen expression, and repeats your words practically verbatim. Tina looks slightly alarmed, then nods her head.<br/>
<br/>
"Now tell her that David Johnson isn't gay. It was just a joke that--"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, but he's--!" Maddy gasps.<br/>
<br/>
"I said, tell her he isn't gay. It was a joke that got out of hand."<br/>
<br/>
Maddy looks unhappy, but accedes. Tina looks very puzzled, but nods.<br/>
<br/>
"Now tell her to act totally normal." Again, Maddy passes along your instructions. That done, you send Tina and Joe out, but you catch Maddy by the elbow. "Now, what has David been saying?"<br/>
<br/>
"He says that he <i>is</i> gay, but that he doesn't want to be."<br/>
<br/>
You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Great. Then if he doesn't want to be, the thing to do is tell everyone he's <i>not.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"But that's not healthy, Frank," Maddy insists. "I know Sarah wants David for a boyfriend, but--"<br/>
<br/>
"It's a joke that got out of hand," you say through gritted teeth. "That's what you and Tina and-- Who are you going to send back here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Natalie. I think. Do you think--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whoever. That's what you three have decided. Tell that to Alyssa, and force it on Mandy."<br/>
<br/>
"What about Lisa?"<br/>
<br/>
You blink as though you've been punched in the forehead. "Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Lisa Rickover. She's--"<br/>
<br/>
"Everyone, Carrie. Tell it to <i>everyone.</i>" You sigh deeply as you force her from the closet.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Joe returns a little later with Natalie, and you do the same thing with her. After that, you gather back in the den with Maddy and her two new slaves for a little talking, after David and Mandy have left. With Carrie's programming, they are quite willing to follow the party line, but they do express mystification about how to square this strong belief in David's heterosexuality with what he's told them. It irritates you that Maddy also seems to goad their doubts. "David's a joker," you insist. "He's yanking your chain."<br/>
<br/>
"David isn't--"<br/>
<br/>
"He's a joker," you repeat, and glower at Maddy.<br/>
<br/>
She firmly falls into line, gets the golems to accept it, and then you and Joe can go home. You take an aspirin and crawl onto the couch.<br/>
<br/>
But at nine o'clock Joe's phone rings. After a little banter, he passes it to you. "The fuck's going on out there?" Patterson demands.<br/>
<br/>
"I had to switch places," you say. "That was a--"<br/>
<br/>
"I know where you are, Prescott," he says. "Lynch told me. He also told me there's some fucked up things going on out there."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fucking pansy, running crying to mamma.</i> "It's all under control, man. Why's Lynch got a thistle up his asshole?"<br/>
<br/>
"He says you're doing things to masks. Making lots of golems. That's not the plan, Prescott. Masks only. Copies, not replacements."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, <i>Lynch</i> is the reason I'm having to do that. Fucker's going around telling people that the person he's pretending to be is queer. I'm having to stop the rumor for his <i>own</i> sake, and that means making golems of some key people."<br/>
<br/>
There's a pause, and Patterson guffaws. "So the little faggot finally confessed. But don't do him any favors, Prescott. If he wants to suck Eastman cock--"<br/>
<br/>
"Fine, but it's for the sake of the guy he's replaced. You won't want him, so we're gonna have to let him go when it's done. <i>He</i> won't appreciate--"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't care about that! You're fucking things up, Prescott! You got enough masks to do the job?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I picked up supplies. But it's complicated, man. These girls--"<br/>
<br/>
"Then gimme that book back. You don't need it now, and I let you have it too long."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck you,</i> you think. <i>I got Frank and Joe Durras on my team. I should fuck you up and start running things myself.</i></span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222222222222121
author_id: seuzz
title: Saturday's Children
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Fuck you,</i> you think, and almost hurl the phone across the room. <i>I got Frank and Joe Durras on my team. I should fuck you up, Patterson, and start running things myself.</i><br/>
<br/>
But innate caution reasserts itself. "Fine. You're right," you say, "I don't need the book. But I'm not fucking things up with the masks. You <i>want</i> replacements out here, Patterson. Trust me on this."<br/>
<br/>
"What makes you think that," he sneers.<br/>
<br/>
"Think about it. You want girls in masks you can hang on your golem back at Westside. But you also want guys, right, and it's not 'cos you're like Lynch. You're talkin' about using <i>those</i> masks to score with girls that you <i>haven't</i> copied. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
He makes no answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if that's what you're planning," you continue, "you don't want the real guys around queering things for you. You'll want to pull them outta the school or away from their friends and warehouse them up in the loft while <i>you</i> go back and take their place for as long as you want. You can't do that with the real guys. But if they're golems--"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," he laughs. "I see that. But the girls, Prescott. Lynch says you're turning <i>girls</i> into golems."<br/>
<br/>
"Same principle. Look, you've left it to me to pick up a fuckload of masks for you, but maybe you're not gonna like everyone I've picked. Maybe you're gonna get some more masks to suit your own taste. Best way is to come into Eastman as one of their girlfriends, get close to them that way. Again, you warehouse the originals, which you can't do if they <i>are</i> originals."<br/>
<br/>
He says nothing for a long minute, then laughs dryly again. "I gotta hand it to you, Prescott. Or maybe it's the guy you're pretending to be. But that's smart."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks."<br/>
<br/>
"In fact, that's just the way we're doin' it out here. Already got Delacroix and Huber and Kelsey Blankenship replaced, usin' 'em to get-- So don't congratulate yourself on bein' <i>original.</i> But good thinking."<br/>
<br/>
You sigh, and wish you didn't feel so pleased at having pleased <i>him.</i> "You still want the book back?"<br/>
<br/>
"Eventually, but I won't press you for it. And even though you were smart to figure out the 'replacement' angle, I don't want you doin' any more of it. You didn't use golems when you were working out here, only masks. Gotta be the same with the guys you're running now. Copies only. <i>After</i> that, we can start slipping fakes in for the real guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I think that won't be a problem." The two you made today should be enough to take care of the "David Johnson" problem. <br/>
<br/>
"Doesn't matter if it's a problem or not. It's not happening. And don't give them any help. They're on their own."<br/>
<br/>
"I understand. Oh, how did Lynch know that I was making golems? I didn't tell him, it wasn't any of his business."<br/>
<br/>
"He's not an idiot, he read the signs. You watch yourself around him, Prescott. Lynch is a snake."<br/>
<br/>
"Got any other late news flashes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Snow's white, grass is green, and you don't wanna dick around with me." The line goes dead.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Thank God it's Saturday,</i> you think when you wake the next morning.<br/>
<br/>
Except it's not. It's Tuesday, but you've decided to skip school after Monday's cock ups.<br/>
<br/>
So instead of getting up you turn over and bury your face in the pillow--<br/>
<br/>
<i>Rat-a-tatta-tatta-tatta!</i> Knuckles beat on the door.<br/>
<br/>
You spring onto the floor and wrench the door open, your fist cocked. Joe doesn't flinch, just grins at you. "Hope I didn't interrupt any quality time with your morning wood, bro."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck you want? I was trying to sleep in."<br/>
<br/>
"So I gathered. But Carrie Carmichael's on the phone."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck!" You dent the wall. "Tell her to go hang by her tits." You throw yourself back onto the bed.<br/>
<br/>
"As you command," Joe says with an elaborate bow, and turns.<br/>
<br/>
"No, wait, Joe! Fuck!" You ball up your fists and rub your eyes. "What does she want?"<br/>
<br/>
"Me, in the worst way, but she'll settle for you."<br/>
<br/>
You stretch your arms and arch your back. It's good to have such a strong, lean, powerful body, and your cock shoots up as you think of Carrie, who is pert and tight and inviting, and why <i>haven't</i> you taken advantage of her panting availability?<br/>
<br/>
Oh, right, because she gets on your nerves, just like all the others. If only you had a girl who was strong and independent and could take it or leave it with you, but always took it when you wanted to--<br/>
<br/>
You slap a hard muscles on the side of your stomach, and sit up. "She's on the phone, isn't she? She's not at the door, not at--" You squint at the clock. <i>Nine-thirty.</i> "Fuck, she could be, couldn't she?"<br/>
<br/>
Joe's grin widens. "That she could, and I wouldn't complain, and it doesn't look like you would either, and when are you going to blow your virginity outta the water, Frank? I was so fuckin' hyped about popping my cherry before you did, but that was so long ago I'm starting to feel sorry for you."<br/>
<br/>
"That's because you're an easy lay, Joe." You get up, and steer your cock like a proud prow toward him, and he falls back as you advance. "Quick like a bunny you are, and scamper away. When <i>I</i> nail 'em, they're gonna stay nailed to the bed. Or the floor or the tree or wherever we happen to be when--"<br/>
<br/>
You've followed him out to the living room by now, and your prick droops as he picks up the cell phone and waggles it at you. <i>If only it weren't Carrie Carmichael inside that body.</i><br/>
<br/>
But it isn't. You were expecting it to be the real Carrie, calling from Maddy Caron's body and house. But it's Joanna, calling from Carrie's body and house. That's not a significant improvement, in your estimation. Carrie may be shrill, but Joanna is whiny, and whininess carried out in Carrie's voice makes your head hurt.<br/>
<br/>
"I was talking to Maddy Caron last night," she says in a furiously aggrieved tone. "You know, the real, um--"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you alone?" you sigh. "There's not someone listening to--"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm in my room."<br/>
<br/>
"Then don't be so fucking coy. You were talking to the real Carrie, the girl you're pretending to be."<br/>
<br/>
"Right." She doesn't sound daunted. "I was talking to her, and-- Why aren't you at school? I want to <i>talk</i> to you guys."<br/>
<br/>
<i>"Talk" sounds like a euphemism for "yell."</i><br/>
<br/>
"Sure, come on out," you say. "Me and Joe are still in our PJs, and we weren't going to get dressed until, oh, noon at the earliest."<br/>
<br/>
She's quiet, and for a moment you worry you've miscalculated, that now she'll <i>run</i> over with her tongue hanging out. To your relief, she says, "Well, when <i>will</i> you be ready?"<br/>
<br/>
"Five."<br/>
<br/>
"You said--!"<br/>
<br/>
"We've got other things to do today, Joanna, which is why we're skipping. We're going to take it easy this morning, and then take care of some errands, and then we'll see you. Saturday's coming twice this week."<br/>
<br/>
She snippily demands that you give her a call when you're free, and you hang up with a broad smile.<br/>
<br/>
"See, Frank," Joe says, "that's how come you don't get laid. You gotta <i>grab</i> your chances."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Despite what you'd told Joanna, you actually get a fairly early start on things. After showering, you and Joe buckle down to mask-making, with him polishing up the masks you pour out, and then you scratch runes into mind-bands. After taking a break for lunch--at a steakhouse, courtesy of Straussler's stolen credit card--you get four masks finished up by mid-afternoon, and drive around to see your colleagues. First comes a quick stop at Ian's, to give Tilley two masks to use on Kyle Lakewood and Jenny Taylor. After a short game of hoops in his driveway, you go out to the Johnson house. David hunches his shoulders as he follows you out to the truck so you can give him a sack with two masks in it. "Is that all?" he asks after taking it.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that all?" you ask Joe. "I don't think there's-- Oh yeah, Maddy and her friends are telling people that you're not gay. It was just a joke that you let get out of hand." David grunts. "<i>Are</i> you gay?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," he sullenly replies. After a long pause, he adds. "It was just a joke that got out of hand."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right."<br/>
<br/>
Another long pause. "Is <i>that</i> all?" he asks again.<br/>
<br/>
You suck in your cheeks and look around. "It does seem like--" You snap your fingers, then frown. "No, that wasn't it. No, I guess that's all. Come on, Joe."<br/>
<br/>
Then: "Oh, there's one little thing," you call to him as he turns around. You walk over to lean into his face. "Patterson said you could go fuck yourself. I'm in charge, and you're getting copies of bitches and assholes for us, and I'm <i>not</i> supposed to help. Not that I'm inclined to. But if you ever go crying to him again, Lynch, I'll fold you up and help you suck yourself off."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That pleasant job done, you call Joanna at Carrie's, and arrange to pick her up at her house; her mother watches carefully as you accompany her out to the truck, you notice.<br/>
<br/>
As soon as she's inside it with you, she starts in. "Carrie said she's getting <i>lots</i> of faces. She said that she's getting to be Natalie and Tina, and maybe more!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's right."<br/>
<br/>
"So how come she gets extras, but <i>I</i> don't?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who says you're not? You're getting extras, Joanna."<br/>
<br/>
"I am?" she gasps.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course. We just hadn't told you yet. Who do you want?"<br/>
<br/>
She's utterly routed, and falls into stammer. "Oh. Oh. Well. Um."</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222222222221212
author_id: seuzz
title: Circles and Circulation
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Why would I want to be any of my classmates?" Joanna demands when you suggest she could have some of her freshman peers as extras. She has so perfectly captured Carrie's aggrieved, aggressive tones that you almost have to remind yourself that it's not the real girl. In fact, it worries you a little. What if the fake Carrie starts casting envious eyes on what the real Carrie has acquired?<br/>
<br/>
In a sense, she already has. But you think you've got the girl correctly sized up, and you think you can deflect her. "What do you want, Carrie?"<br/>
<br/>
If she thinks you've called her by the wrong name, she doesn't show it. "I want senior girls, Frank," she retorts. "Senior girls like-- Like Becky Torres. And Jenny Taylor. And-- And--" She trembles like she's going to burst. "And Alyssa Randal!" she shouts.<br/>
<br/>
<i>And there it is. She wants what Carrie has been getting.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I understand, Carrie," you say soothingly. "But what did you want before we showed you these masks?"<br/>
<br/>
Her head swivels like a barstool toward you. You keep staring ahead as you drive. She crosses her arms, and sinks down into the seat. "Before we had these masks, I couldn't <i>be</i> Carrie," she says in a small but furious voice.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right, Joanna," you say, and now lightly accent the proper name. "You're Carrie now. But what did the old Carrie want? The Carrie who didn't know she could become other people? That's who you want to be, isn't it? The Carrie you used to know?"<br/>
<br/>
Joanna presses her chin to her chest. "I dunno. To be popular. To have friends. Have fun."<br/>
<br/>
"To have fun making people do what she wanted?"<br/>
<br/>
Her nostrils flare, and a nasty, satirical grin bursts across her face. "Yes," she sneers. "That's <i>exactly</i> what she wanted."<br/>
<br/>
"And she can have that now," you calmly point out. "<i>You</i> can have that. You can have five girls, Joanna. Five girls who will do <i>exactly</i> what you say, because they will be your slaves. You can tell them exactly what to do, and use them to get <i>other</i> people to do exactly what you say, because you are very popular, and your friends will make you more popular, because they'll be your slave. And you'll even be able to <i>be</i> these friends, and have what they have, when you want to."<br/>
<br/>
You smile at her. She stares back. Her gaze is bright but glassy, her attention elsewhere. "I could, couldn't I?" she says softly.<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly. So who do you--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Monique Travers," she quickly says. "And Sarah White."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Predictable. The girls that have senior boyfriends.</i> "Well, there's two. You only need three--"<br/>
<br/>
"And Nick Diaz. I don't want to <i>be</i> him," she quickly adds. "But he can be my slave. He's cute, you know, and girls really like him, and he'll hang out with us and be cool, and then they'll--"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Wow, she is clever,</i> you think. "What about a boyfriend for yourself?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Oooh! Could I have one senior, one senior to be my boyfriend?" she hungrily asks. "Or no, maybe I should have two boys down in my own class, and they can compete for me, and I'll be all, like--" She tosses her hair.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Patterson won't want freshman boys.</i> "You should have a senior boyfriend, Carrie," you say. "It'll look good, with you hanging out with Monique and Sarah and Jonathan and Shawn."<br/>
<br/>
"And you and Joe?" she slyly asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course with us," you smoothly reply. "We <i>like</i> you. That's how come--"<br/>
<br/>
"Kyle Lakewood!" she shouts.<br/>
<br/>
You jump a little. "Um, I think it should be someone who hasn't already <i>got</i> a girlfriend," you say. "There's lots of good choices. You should talk with Maddy, though. I think <i>she'd</i> have an opinion."<br/>
<br/>
"I think I know what she'd want," she archly replies.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't <i>assume</i> anything, Joanna. You don't want to accidentally get Maddy mad at you."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll talk to her," the girl says with the confidence of one who's sure of getting her own way. "She's told me I can start hanging around with her and her friends. Where are we going?" She looks around.<br/>
<br/>
"Right here," you say, pulling back up in front of her house. You've been prowling the neighborhood, driving around blocks. "We just needed to talk, right? Joe and I will have two masks for you tomorrow, to use on--"<br/>
<br/>
"Monique and Sarah," she says. "Oh, thank you, Frank!" She gives you a big hug, and then starts to cry. "You're so-- So--"<br/>
<br/>
"Back inside with you," you say, and give her a little chuck on the cheek. She scrambles out, then blows you a kiss before running away.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The next two days, blessedly, almost pass without crisis. Tuesday night and Wednesday afternoon are occupied with making more masks: tedious work, but much better than dealing with crazy girls or the problems of getting masks onto and off of people. It worries you when you don't hear from anyone--you're so used to having to give people direction and help--and are mightily pleased when Ian Carpenter drops by Sunday afternoon and hands you two masks. "A matched set," he grins. "Kyle and Jenny."<br/>
<br/>
You let out a low whistle. "Who are you, and what have you done that fuck up, Keith Tilley?"<br/>
<br/>
He snickers and stretches strong arms over his head. "The sad thing is, I've been learning a hell of a lot about myself," he says. "I'm a drip. I lack confidence. Part of me wants to go over to Westside and smack the fake me around for being such a dorkwad."<br/>
<br/>
"What does the rest of you want to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Give Javits a wedgie. What about you? You learning anything about Will Prescott?"<br/>
<br/>
"Lots."<br/>
<br/>
"Like what?"<br/>
<br/>
"That he's not half the fuck up Tilley is."<br/>
<br/>
Ian shoves you. You shove him back. It turns into a quick scrimmage, and since you've none of Frank's supernatural talents, you have to use his actual physique. That still makes it a one-sided fight in your favor, but one that's a little longer than it would have been otherwise. "Okay, uncle," Ian gasps from beneath you.<br/>
<br/>
You let him up. "Got two more masks for you," you say, and lead him back to the garage. "More for everyone, but you're in the lead. We were thinking of getting Karter, weren't we?"<br/>
<br/>
"We were? Well, him or Alyssa."<br/>
<br/>
"Get Karter. Peter Robins, too," you add after a moment's thought.<br/>
<br/>
"Lotta guys," he says. "Doesn't Patterson want girls? Or is he--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Guys who can get girls, too. Don't worry, I think you're the only one who's been scooping up cocks."<br/>
<br/>
"How's Lynch doing?" He suddenly sounds worried.<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't even given him any masks," you grin. "You'll make senior before he even gets his first."<br/>
<br/>
"That's a relief," he says, and his voice even trembles a little.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But you do need to get masks to Lynch, lest he call Patterson again to complain. You also have some for Sarah, though with her you'll have to explain the idea of getting additional "homes." Fortunately, she gives you an opening.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm still worried about David," Dana says. She is slumping in the swing in the back yard. "You said you'd fix it, Frank, but people are still--"<br/>
<br/>
"It's only been a few days. It takes time to get these things set straight."<br/>
<br/>
"She says you gave her some extra masks," Dana says, and squints over at you. "Carrie-- I mean, Joanna, said the same thing. Like, slaves."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. Would you like some too?"<br/>
<br/>
She stares at you, then shrugs. "I only care about David."<br/>
<br/>
"You know the way David can put the gay rumors to rest real quick?"<br/>
<br/>
"By going out with me?" she quickly says.<br/>
<br/>
"By going out with <i>lots</i> of girls."<br/>
<br/>
Horror spreads over her face. "Oh God, that's even worse than--"<br/>
<br/>
"But maybe it's <i>not</i> lots of girls," you say. "Maybe it's only one girl. One girl who's pretending to be different girls." You let the implication sink in.<br/>
<br/>
"But he'd still think it <i>was</i> different girls," she says in a sinking whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"And you make sure they're all bitches," you reply. "Make Dana Pak look real good in comparison."<br/>
<br/>
She gasps, and covers her mouth with her hands. "That would be so--" she says in a muffled voice. Then her eyes crinkle, and she drops her hand to show the grin. "Wicked!"<br/>
<br/>
"Make a list, and we'll bring you some masks tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You do have two masks for her in the morning, and she's got two for you: Monique Travers and Sarah White. "Carrie gave them to Sarah to give to me to give to you," she says, and makes a face. "It's kinda creepy, actually, having your little sister--"<br/>
<br/>
At lunch you take David Johnson gently by the shoulder and steer him outside. "You're gonna have to start dating girls," you tell  him, and hand him a sack with two masks inside. "Time's a'wastin'."<br/>
<br/>
"Gimme a new face," he growls back. "I can't do it with this fucker. He doesn't know how to talk to them."<br/>
<br/>
"But Jason Lynch does, doesn't he?"<br/>
<br/>
He glowers. "I gotta different style. It won't work with this--" He shrugs his lanky shoulders.</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222222222212122
author_id: seuzz
title: An Unexpected Threat
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You cluck your tongue. "Poor Lynch," you jeer with transparently fake sympathy. "When you can't bully a girl into--"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you!"<br/>
<br/>
"Easy, lover. You're trying to <i>shake</i> the gay rumors."<br/>
<br/>
"Get me a new spot, Cooper Black, or Lakewood, or I'll--"<br/>
<br/>
"Or you'll what?" You step close to him. "I told you what I'd do if you called Patterson again." He says nothing. "I put you here, and this is where you'll stay and where you'll do your work. And I've arranged for you to get a little help."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't need <i>Tilley</i>--"<br/>
<br/>
"Tilley wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire. No, I've arranged for one of those freshman <i>girls</i> to give you a helping hand." You grin as he turns very red. "Yeah, you just need the right girl to pay attention to you. So Dana--the girl who's pretending to be Dana Pak--is going to get some masks, and she's going to pretend to be various girls--I don't know who yet, but they'll be cute--and you're going to date them. Briefly. Just enough that the <i>other</i> girls know you're seriously poking the produce, and <i>then</i> you'll be able to start picking some up."<br/>
<br/>
"That'll take <i>forever!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Not my problem. I'm not even supposed to help you, and I'm bending Patterson's rules even by getting Joanna to help."<br/>
<br/>
"Patterson won't stand for this!"<br/>
<br/>
"Patterson's not gonna know, is he? And even if he did, he'll see I'm playing within the letter and the spirit of his rules, and he'll know that <i>you're</i> the fuck up."<br/>
<br/>
Johnson has turned a ghastly green color by now, and even looks like he's going to start crying. He grabs the sack from you and stalks away.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Curious,</i> you think. You'd not peg Johnson as a crier. You wouldn't peg Lynch as one, but bullies, they say, break easier than anyone else.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Carrie Carmichael--the girl who is looking like her--is sitting out front with her friends as you saunter along to the cafeteria, and she calls out your name and beckons you over. You swerve, but she jumps up and runs to meet you. "Did you get the--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, good work. You have any problems? It can be tricky."<br/>
<br/>
"I can be tricky too," she snickers. "I invited them over for a slumber party on Saturday. We played Truth or Dare, and while Monique was sneaking out and driving my mom's car around the neighborhood at one o'clock in the morning, I got the mask on Sarah. And then when--"<br/>
<br/>
"That's clever," you say. "Now, it'll be awhile before we can turn them into slaves--"<br/>
<br/>
"Be a couple of days before we could do Monique anyway," she says. "Her grandfather died, and her family's gone to the funeral. Out of town, a day's drive each way. But what about a boyfriend for me?" She grasps your belt and stands on tiptoes.<br/>
<br/>
You smile mirthlessly back. "You'll have to do it yourself, like with Monique and Sarah. So don't aim too high. Has to be a guy you can get alone."<br/>
<br/>
"I could get <i>you</i> alone, Frank," she grins. "Or your brother."<br/>
<br/>
"The masks don't work on us. And if you tried something like that, I'd turn you into Mrs. Cussler."<br/>
<br/>
"You wouldn't!"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't even joke about trying to use the masks on us, Joanna. We're their masters." You lean down toward her. "Joe and I might not even be <i>human.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes widen, showing sudden, deep fear. But she shakes it off with a toss of the head. "I don't know why you're calling me 'Joanna'," she says. "I'm <i>Carrie.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"And a beautiful Carrie you are too. You shouldn't have too much trouble making one of the senior guys notice you. Just stay away from Kyle. And Jonathan. And Ian."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So it's a nice day all around, and you're in a good humor. Until five o'clock, that is, when Joe's phone rings. "Who?" he asks with a frown. "No, I think you got a wrong number." <br/>
<br/>
"Who is it, Joe?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks down at the ID, and his eyebrows go up. "Huh. Uh, we know anyone here named 'Will Prescott', Frank?"<br/>
<br/>
You grab it away from him. "Who's this and what do you want?"<br/>
<br/>
There's a pause. "I'm looking for Will Prescott," the caller says, and it takes you a moment to place his voice.<br/>
<br/>
It's Gordon Black. You jab a finger at Joe and order him from the room. "Pretend you've found him," you tell Gordon. "What would you say to him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'd say I'm going to rip his fucking face off. Care to meet so I can see if I can do it?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Lynch.</i> "I got no problem with that. Where?"<br/>
<br/>
"Westside. The loft."<br/>
<br/>
"The practice fields," you counter. "Out where anyone can see and no one can hear." He gruffly agrees.<br/>
<br/>
He's waiting with arms folded as you park and trudge out to meet him. "So this is what you're looking these days," he says. His eyes travel up and down your frame. You'd intentionally changed into a muscle shirt and shorts, so he'd see who he's threatened to tangle with. "It's an improvement, but a five-year-old retarded girl would be an improvement on--"<br/>
<br/>
"You call me out here to do the dozens, Black? I got a brother back home who could play in tournaments, and I'm almost good enough to keep up with him, so you either try to take my face off or you shut your stupid mouth."<br/>
<br/>
He reddens. "I didn't ask you out here to fight, though if you want--"<br/>
<br/>
You step back and gesture him to come at you.<br/>
<br/>
But he shakes his head. "I called you out to tell you it won't work."<br/>
<br/>
"What won't?"<br/>
<br/>
"Capping Lynch. Fucking him up on purpose."<br/>
<br/>
"Brilliant. I knew that's what this was about. The pussy can't call Patterson, so he calls <i>you.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"You can do what you like," he shrugs. "I'm just telling you it won't do any good. He'll make his quota."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. He's supposed to. I'm not supposed to make it easy for him, and I'm definitely not supposed to help him--"<br/>
<br/>
"And he'll make senior, along with the rest of us."<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome. We can jerk each other off then."<br/>
<br/>
"And Tilley'll still get whacked."<br/>
<br/>
<i>That</i> knocks you off-balance. "What are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"They didn't tell you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tell me what?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think they did. Or Tilley did. Fucker. Yeah. You see, Johansson made quota first, so he got an easy promotion. You and Tilley and Lynch, you made it harder on yourselves by coming in after him. You got in second, so you got a hard job, the job of managing those two fuck ups. Whoever comes in <i>third</i> gets a harder job. We haven't decided what it'll be yet, but it'll be a bitch, you can count on that. And the guy who comes in last?" He raises his eyebrows.<br/>
<br/>
"What happens to them?" Your gut sinks.<br/>
<br/>
"Gets turned into a golem."<br/>
<br/>
Goosebumps run up and down your spine. "You guys wouldn't."<br/>
<br/>
"We would," he says. "It's an incentive. Sink or swim. And Tilley and Lynch both know the price of coming in last. So they didn't tell you?" You shake your head numbly. "I'm impressed. We told them they couldn't tell you. Make it fair that way.<br/>
<br/>
"Except you're <i>not</i> making it fair," he continues after you say nothing. "That's what Lynch says. Says you didn't even give him any masks till this afternoon. Meanwhile, Tilley is scoring right and left."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't <i>know</i>, Black--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, maybe you didn't. You just saw a chance to be a dick to Lynch. Maybe I don't blame you, he can be a real--" He shakes his head. "But now you do know, and I'm telling you that it won't work. The game is rigged, Prescott. Even if Tilley beats Lynch, we're not promoting him, and we're not letting him walk away. Enjoy your time with him."<br/>
<br/>
You clench your fists. It would be so easy to beat Gordon into the ground, to break his bones, to knock him bloody unconscious. Then get a mask of him and move on Patterson. You curse yourself for not striking down these assholes earlier.<br/>
<br/>
"But there's one way out," Gordon says.<br/>
<br/>
It takes you a moment to react, so furious are you. You jerk your chin at him, for you don't think you can speak without your voice cracking.<br/>
<br/>
"Get me a mask of Straussler. That rich fuck at Eastman. Get that for me, and I'll tell Patterson we can't double-cross Tilley."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that all?" you blurt out, having found your voice through your surprise. "We've already <i>got</i> a mask of Straussler. <i>Tilley</i> got it, even."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, hoo-rah for Tilley," Gordon says dryly. "I want it because I want to be Straussler. Permanently."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't see anything wrong with that." You can hardly believe how quickly the threat has receded. <i>If it has,</i> a little voice says in the back of your skull. <i>These fuckers--</i><br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but there's one more thing," Gordon continues. "I hear he's got a girlfriend. I don't want a girlfriend. I wanna play the field and pick my own."<br/>
<br/>
"You can do that, too, no one would stop you from breaking up--"<br/>
<br/>
"And I don't to be the bad guy," he says. "I don't want to deal with the shit or the aftermath. <i>She</i> has to break up with me. Make it all her fault, so Straussler is free and blameless when I step in for him."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Urgh. Now, that </i>is<i> a little complication.</i> "How long do I have to--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tomorrow. I'm staying out tonight, and tomorrow I'm sleeping in Jonathan Straussler's bed. And I'm sleeping in it as a man without romantic attachments."</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222222222222121221
author_id: seuzz
title: A Mask Falls Off
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You're a real son of a bitch, Black," you say. "And I don't want you out at Eastman with me. But I'm a team player. I can set it up."<br/>
<br/>
"Good," he says. "Tilley will thank you for it."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Like I'm going to tell Keith,</i> you sourly think as you trudge away.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You check your face in the rear-view mirror before getting out of the truck; Monique Travers gazes back at you. You dislike the frightened look on her face.<br/>
<br/>
It's all wrong. The situation, the tactics, the whole fucking plan. Monique is still out of town, so she shouldn't even be here. "Here" is in front of the Straussler mansion, where you drove Frank's truck because Monique hasn't got her own car. Monique is a freshman and shouldn't even be driving, since she hasn't got so much as a learner's permit. You'll have to get in and out and away without Jonathan being able to ask how you got here. Even the clothes are wrong. You tug at Joanna's spare blouse and skirt, which you'd had to bully out of the golem when you'd stopped by the Johnsons' after leaving Gordon to pick up Monique's mask.<br/>
<br/>
But it's that or Tilley's scrawny neck. You try not to think about how ugly and stupid he is, because then you might change your mind.<br/>
<br/>
You toddle up to the massive front door and ring the bell; chimes as deep as Big Ben thunder dimly through the thick walls. You shift nervously from foot to foot.<br/>
<br/>
Finally the door opens. "Miss Travers, so nice to see you again," Gerhardt says in that courtly accent that has only a trace of German in it. "Austrian," Jonathan has told Monique. "Call him a German and he'll never smile at you again."<br/>
<br/>
But he's smiling now as he ushers you in. "Is Jonathan around?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I believe he is in the southwest quarter. Shall I show you--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks, I can find it," you say. He bows, and his heels click on the marble floor as he makes for another room.<br/>
<br/>
You pass through a long, huge entryway and through a long, huge gallery, and then down a long, huge hallway. The central parts of the house are like a palace or a museum. Most of the rooms are more intimate, though. <i>If only there weren't so many of them.</i> Part of Monique would love to live in a place like this; the other part would be too freaked out.<br/>
<br/>
She'll never get a chance, though. You nervously finger the credit card in your hand. It's the excuse for the break up. You mean for Jonathan to catch you trying to return it; he'll confront you; you'll confess to stealing it; it'll end her relationship with him.<br/>
<br/>
You hope. Jonathan can be so <i>fucking</i> generous and forgiving.<br/>
<br/>
"Monique?" a voice calls, and you jump like a fawn. Curt Straussler, Jonathan's dad, has stepped out of a nearby room, a newspaper in his hand. He's in pajamas and a thick but tattered robe, and he's wearing slippers. "This is a surprise," he says.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Likewise,</i> you could say; Monique has never seen "the Beast," as Jonathan calls him, outside a business suit. "We got back early, just a little while ago," you gasp. "Drove all night and morning, so I wouldn't miss any more classes."<br/>
<br/>
Puzzlement deepens in his clear blue eyes. "Surely that wasn't necessary," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't like it either. It was a horrible drive out, so long and boring, but at least I got to sleep during most of it on the way back."<br/>
<br/>
Now his eyes freeze. "Uh huh. Why are you here?" Suspicion tinges his voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I have to see Jonathan. So I'll just--" You point down the hall.<br/>
<br/>
"Monique!" he calls as you turn. He points at the room he just left. "How about you wait in here. I'll get Jonathan."<br/>
<br/>
"That's okay. I just have to--"<br/>
<br/>
"Please," he says, and his eyes narrow. "I insist."<br/>
<br/>
You swallow and shrug. <i>What's this all about?</i> He steps aside as you pass through the door, and find yourself in the solarium.<br/>
<br/>
You think that's what Jonathan has called it. It's big and airy and warm, with a view through giant windows that rise almost three stories. There are even flower beds and some small trees in here, tucked inside a stone patio. A fountain splashes nearby. You sit on a lawn chair. When they want winter in the summertime, the Strausslers go to the Alps; when they want summer in the winter, they can come here.<br/>
<br/>
It's a very long wait, giving you plenty of time to worry about what you'll say. It'll be hard to say it in front of Curt, if he insists on staying-- But maybe that'll make it easier. "The Beast" is the most unforgiving man you've ever met, and that includes Mr. Gelding back at Westside.<br/>
<br/>
The door opens again, but it's only Curt again. He's changed into slacks and a blue blazer, with a natty scarf around his neck. He eyes you closely, and you stand up, your hands folded in front of you. You're perfectly in character as Monique. You'd be perfectly in character as Monique in your own skin, for you're sure you'd be just as nervous and abashed.<br/>
<br/>
"So you drove all night to get here," he says. "Did you see anything interesting on the way out?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, we just drove straight to Rock Springs. You know, that's where my grandfather lives. Lived." You pretend to wipe a tear.<br/>
<br/>
"Hm." He draws up close to you. "Rock Springs, yes. That's where Robert said he'd be setting down. They have an airport there."<br/>
<br/>
"Robert? Oh yeah. That's one of your pilots, right? Um--" A trickle of sweat forms on the back of your neck. "Why did he have to go to--"<br/>
<br/>
"I just talked to him. He said you had a very pleasant flight out. He told your father he anticipates a very pleasant flight back tonight."<br/>
<br/>
"But why is he--?"<br/>
<br/>
Curt's arm shoots up, and an incredible pain slams through your body.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your limbs tremble as you sit up, and a headache rings through your skull. You wince and squint and look around.<br/>
<br/>
You're laying on a couch in a small, bare room. The floors are tiled and the walls are white. You rub the side of your head and get to your feet, stumbling a little until you fall against a thick metal door. It's locked.<br/>
<br/>
You bang on it. "Hey. Hey!" The sound is so muffled you wonder if it is soundproofed. You scratch your head and look around some more. Nothing to look at except the couch and yourself.<br/>
<br/>
You glance down. You have a cock.<br/>
<br/>
You don't have any clothes, and you have a cock. You grab yourself and fall back onto the couch. You recognize those legs, those feet, those arms and hand. You recognize the thatch of hair when you clutch it. This is <i>your</i> body.<br/>
<br/>
But when you came out here, you were Monique.<br/>
<br/>
You try to think dazedly through your headache and confusion. You came out to the Strausslers' in Monique's mask. You were talking to Curt.<br/>
<br/>
And somehow he got the mask off you?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Patterson ...?</i><br/>
<br/>
The door opens, and you draw your knees to your chest. Curt Straussler, now in a suit, enters. A fat man with Asian features, clad in cheap jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, follows. Curt glares at you. The other man cocks his head quizzically and smiles.<br/>
<br/>
He looks familiar, but in your dazed state you can't place him.<br/>
<br/>
Until he snaps his fingers and grins.<br/>
<br/>
"I know you!" he exclaims. "Yeah, you come into my shop, hang out with Christian and them. Wait, don't tell me!" He thinks hard a minute, then laughs softly. "Nope, can't get it. But you know <i>me,</i> right? Eric, from King Kong Komics?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Yeah." This is very strange. He waits expectantly as you stare at him. "Uh, Will. Will Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"That's it! Will, dude!" He sticks out a hand, and numbly you take it. He pumps it enthusiastically. He grins a bit more before dropping your hand.<br/>
<br/>
Then he snaps his fingers, and Curt hands him something. It's a mask.<br/>
<br/>
Eric chuckles over it. "Pretty damn weird, Curt. You say he was wearing this?" He turns it over. "Monique, huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"He looked just like her," Straussler says. He glowers at you. "Talked just like her. Knew a lot. If he hadn't slipped up about her travel arrangements--"<br/>
<br/>
Eric shakes his head, and his eyes gleam. "So tell me, Will, how does this thing work?"<br/>
<br/>
You bite your lip.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not one of your Fane toys?" Curt demands. "Like the, uh--"<br/>
<br/>
"The <i>dissuo</i>?" Eric bubbles with laughter. "How 'bout that, the dingus worked on something it wasn't even designed for. No." He hefts the mask. "I'm pretty sure this isn't one of ours." He cocks his head. "Cat got your tongue, Will?" You remain silent, and his smile fades a little. "Get him some clothes, Curt."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It was a rough drive, with you pinned to the backseat of Curt Straussler's BMW between two burly men; it had an anticlimactic end, with you now locked in the back room of Eric's comic book store. Why does it have to be lined with steel? And what's with those electrodes in the corner?<br/>
<br/>
You don't want an answer to <i>that</i> question.<br/>
<br/>
The door opens, and a slim figure gets thrust through. Your knees buckle.<br/>
<br/>
It's Will Prescott. "Whoa, dude," he gasps.<br/>
<br/>
Eric follows. "I assume you guys know each other?" You really don't like his grin anymore. "Let's a have a little--" The bell to his front door rings, and he looks over his shoulder. "Fuck. I'll be right back. Get your stories straight, so I can have fun breaking them." He exits, locking the door behind.<br/>
<br/>
You and Will stare at each other. But you're not seeing him. You're seeing the face of the guy you hope is under his mask. <i>If Patterson was to put the real Joe Durras anywhere, it would be here.</i></span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222222222221212211
author_id: seuzz
title: Joe Durras Returns
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What's going on," Will Prescott asks. "I get this call from Chow Yun-Fatso out there, saying I won a lottery drawing and I need to get out here for my prize, and I find out it's <i>you?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"You're not Patterson, are you?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Dude!" He sounds offended. "Do I smell like an asshole?"<br/>
<br/>
You grimace. If it isn't Joe under the mask, you hope it <i>is</i> Patterson. Or Black.<br/>
<br/>
Hell, you'd settle for Lynch.<br/>
<br/>
He bats at you as you lunge for his face. "Hold still, you moron," you growl at him. Mystic words tumble from your lips. You yank at his face; he pulls at your hands. Your grip on him slips--<br/>
<br/>
--but the mask comes away. A figure falls backward and slumps to the ground. You grab it by the hair and raise his head.<br/>
<br/>
Glory hallelujah. It's Joe Durras.<br/>
<br/>
You slap him hard across the face. <i>Once.</i> His lips part. <i>Twice.</i> His eyes clench. <i>Thri--</i><br/>
<br/>
Joe grabs your wrist, and a shuddering pain ripples all down your arm. His eyes blaze.<br/>
<br/>
"Thank God!" you gasp. "Come on, Joe, we have to--"<br/>
<br/>
"Who the fuck are you?" He tightens his grip your arm.<br/>
<br/>
"No time for that! There's this asshole outside--"<br/>
<br/>
"There's an asshole in here!"<br/>
<br/>
"Joe, I got you out of the mask so we could get out of here, I'll explain--"<br/>
<br/>
"One more time, twig. Then I pull your arm out and beat you to death with it. Who are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ow, shit!" You grimace. "Joe! Okay, okay! My name is Will Prescott. I can take you to the <i>Libra Personae.</i> But we have to get out of here!"<br/>
<br/>
Now his eyes do blaze. You've seen Joe being silly and goofy and sexy; and from Frank's memories you even remember him being mad.<br/>
<br/>
But you've no memory of him looking like <i>this.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Mask!" he roars, and shoves you back so hard you ricochet off the far wall. He snatches your mask off the floor and glares at it. He turns it over, and his frown deepens. "Says 'William Martin Prescott' here. That you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." You nurse your arm. "They had you done up like me--"<br/>
<br/>
"They? Who's they?" he demands sharply. "Fast, Prescott. Now I'm only asking questions once, and there's just a three-second delay before I hit you."<br/>
<br/>
"These guys," you gasp. "Guys I know. At Westside. Patterson, Black. Uh--"<br/>
<br/>
"Lisa Yarborough?"<br/>
<br/>
"Lisa?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"Last thing I remember is a girl named Lisa Yarborough pulling me in for a kiss. She use the <i>Libra</i> on me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Lisa?" you gasp again.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Patterson, you fuck! Using Lisa's mask to--</i><br/>
<br/>
Joe's arm blurs as he pulls back a fist.<br/>
<br/>
"No, not Lisa! She's another victim, like you! They used her face to--"<br/>
<br/>
Now he does blur, his whole body, at once, as he flies at you, smashing you against the wall with a hand crushing your windpipe. His hot breath washes over your face. "And you're one of them, right, Prescott?" His grip tightens. "How else would you know all this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Gggkhhkhhkkggkhg!" He relaxes his grip just a little. "Yeah, I helped, but they made me!" you croak. "They were gonna kill me, turn me into a golem if I didn't!"<br/>
<br/>
"A golem?"<br/>
<br/>
"A statue. Book can turn people into statues."<br/>
<br/>
"And you're helping me now because?"<br/>
<br/>
"Someone else is-- Jonathan Straussler's dad! He caught me! He got my mask off, and now I think they're gonna--"<br/>
<br/>
"Straussler's dad? You sure?" You almost gargle your tonsils out as you nod. Joe looks around, and releases you. "Where are we?"<br/>
<br/>
"King. Kong. Komics." You cough it out one syllable at a time. "You know, over on--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah yeah. Why here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno." You cough some more. "Eric Kim came out and picked me up. He was acting like Jonathan's dad's boss or something. He snapped his fingers, and the old man jumped."<br/>
<br/>
Joe stares at you hard. "Fat Eric?" he asks skeptically.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah! I don't get it either. But they were all, like, talking about how maybe the masks were toys that Eric had given Straussler's dad, or could give him, or-- I dunno. Look, we have to get outta here!"<br/>
<br/>
"Door's locked, asshole! I've already tried it, though maybe you didn't see me. Listen does the name 'Proteus' mean anything to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's Straussler's dad's company, isn't it? I had a mask on, but I'm forgetting a lot of--"<br/>
<br/>
"What about--? Pay attention, Prescott!" He jabs a finger in your face. "What about 'Fane'?" His eyebrows go up.<br/>
<br/>
"Fane? I dunno, it was all so-- Wait. Fane? Fane Toys, maybe?" Your head is swimming. "Straussler's dad said something like, 'Is this from Fane Toys' or 'Is this a Fane toy' or-- He was talking about the masks, and Eric said it wasn't one of theirs."<br/>
<br/>
Joe's eyes go very hard. "Fuck. This is serious." He puts his hands on his hips and looks around. For the first time, he seems to notice his clothes. "What is this shit I'm wearing? Oh, sorry, Prescott, I guess it's yours. But yeah, okay, we'll get outta here. You say you know where the <i>Libra</i> is?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think so. First place to look is at Westside, in the fu-- In the loft over the gym."<br/>
<br/>
"The 'fuh'? What the fuck is the 'fuh'?"<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck room. That's what we call it, that loft. Patterson and Black use it to--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah yeah, you can paint me a picture later when I wanna jack off. Where's Frank?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's back at your place. Um. He's also wearing a mask, like you were. He's trapped under a mask of you." You redden.<br/>
<br/>
Joe stares at you, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, that's brilliant!" He claps his hands. "I'm beginning to like you, Prescott." And then he turns serious again. "Did you ever put on that mask of me?" he quietly asks.<br/>
<br/>
You're sure the threat of a beating is still back there, so you shame-facedly nod. His nostrils flare. "Mostly I was wearing Frank's, though."<br/>
<br/>
"So you know everything about us?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah.  That's how come I told you I could take you to the <i>Libra,</i> 'cos I knew you and Frank--"<br/>
<br/>
You trail off as he pushes you against the wall and stares down into your face. "Only now?" he asks. "You decided to help us only now? When your ass is on the line?"<br/>
<br/>
You swallow again, and nod guiltily. <br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh," he says. He cranes his head back and looks you up and down. His lip curls. "You liked putting on masks, Prescott? Liked putting on masks and pretending to be other people? Other people who could--" He thrusts his hips lightly, touching his crotch to yours.<br/>
<br/>
You want to melt; it sure feels like your face is trying to oblige. You shut your eyes and nod again.<br/>
<br/>
"You do any--" Again, he brushes your crotch with his. "While pretending to be Frank?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," you gasp. "It felt weird to--" You swallow. "While being Frank."<br/>
<br/>
His voice sinks to a whisper. "But you said you put on <i>my</i> mask."<br/>
<br/>
"For a little while." You flinch back, eyes screwed shut.<br/>
<br/>
"So how did it feel when you--?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, God! He's getting aroused!</i> Each time he touches you, he's harder.<br/>
<br/>
The door opens. "Hey, sorry it took me--" Eric says. "Whoa, thanks for saving me a buncha-- Auuuggghhhffff!"<br/>
<br/>
You open your eyes, just in time to see Eric bend double. Joe already has his fists over the shop owner's head, and he drops them hard on the back of your captor's neck. Eric sprawls onto the floor. Joe grabs a hank of his hair, raises his head a foot off the ground, and slams it against the concrete floor. Eric doesn't move after that.<br/>
<br/>
Joe grasps you by the front of your shorts. "Anyone else in town know who me and my brother really are?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I'm the only one who ever put on the masks. I made sure they couldn't learn about you guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds like you got half a brain, Prescott. Too bad it's the wrong half. Let's go find Frank now." He pulls you out and locks the door behind.<br/>
<br/>
You expect him to stride out into the shop, but instead he pushes you into a corner. "Can you guess what's coming next?" he grins. You shake your head. Before you can ask what he means, you hear hoarse shouts from the front of the store. The doorbell jangles, and then there's silence.<br/>
<br/>
"Coast is clear now," Joe says, and pulls you into the dim shop. He leads you up to the counter, and plucks up the phone receiver. "Call the house, get the fake me to come pick us up. It'll sound less weird than me talking to me. And I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."<br/>
<br/>
You look out the front window, and glimpse the two guys who drove out with you. They're running down the middle of the street, and they seem to be chasing--<br/>
<br/>
You blink. They seem to be chasing Joe.<br/>
<br/>
You put the receiver down. "He can't pick us up. Your truck is at the Strausslers'."<br/>
<br/>
He grabs your collar. "If we lose our truck on account of you," he shouts, "I will personally hold the Coke bottle that Frank stuffs you into!" His eyes kindle again, but he masters himself. "In that case--" He slams the register with his fist, and the tray pops open. "We'll take a cab courtesy of--" He pulls out the single five-dollar bill in the register. "Fuck, how does Fat Eric manage to stay in business?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The cab drops you off three houses down from his place, and Joe stops you from advancing. "You're sure you're the only one who knows about us?" he asks. You nod. "Well, just in case, I'm going ahead. Me myself, not my shadow, in case someone needs clobbering. You stay put."<br/>
<br/>
But as he trots off, you feel sorely tempted to run off. Joe is the nice one; you shudder to think what Frank will do to you. They are magicians of a sort, after all.<br/>
<br/>
And Eric and Jonathan's dad? They're just businessmen.<br/>
<br/>
Aren't they?</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222222222212122111
author_id: seuzz
title: Of Frying Pans and Fires
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Once Joe is out of sight, you duck down between two houses. Joe is fast, very fast, but you're in the student ghetto close to Keyserling, and it's a maze. You'll have some chance of dodging him.<br/>
<br/>
So you weave in and out of alleys and around corners, keeping an alert eye out. Gradually you make your way to the campus, where you should have an easier time hiding. You see a crowd of students walking along, and duck in amongst them. They give you a passing glance, but take no further notice.<br/>
<br/>
As you stroll along in their company, you take stock of your situation. You've got two pretty scary groups of people after you: Joe and Frank, and Eric Kim and Curt Straussler. Your chances of avoiding them seem slim, especially since they all know exactly who you are. You'll have to get another face. A new one.<br/>
<br/>
For that you'll need a mask. Only place for that is back at Westside, on the other side of town. And you've no money and no phone.<br/>
<br/>
You're sweating hard before you remember that there's an old, battered public phone in the Keyserling library. You had to use it once last year, when you forgot your own phone during one of your very rare forays up to the campus.<br/>
<br/>
And then, once you've got the receiver in your grasp, you have another problem. Who to call? Caleb? You've no idea where he is. Keith? You don't remember Ian's number.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, the only number you can remember is Patterson's. You'll have to come clean with him before he'll help you. But if the two of you can get up to the fuck room--<br/>
<br/>
<i>What the fuck is the 'fuh'?</i> Joe's barked question returns to you. <i>Shit, you told him where the book was. He and Frank might be on their way over there now!</i> With trembling fingers you dial Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"This better be fucking important, Prescott," he growls through the window of his car, and slaps the lock down before you can get the door open. "I was getting ready for a party."<br/>
<br/>
"We have to get to Westside," you pant back at him. "Some of the guys I replaced? They got loose. Big guys. They beat all kinds of shit out of me, made me tell 'em about the book and where it is. They're probably on their way out there now!"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes blaze. "You. Fucking. Moron!" he screams. "Of all the fucked up--!"<br/>
<br/>
"Who's the fuck up, Patterson," you scream back. "The fuck up or the fuck up who's too busy screaming at him to start fixing it?"<br/>
<br/>
He wrenches the door open for you, and pops you in the face as you leap in. It's only a glancing blow, but it hurts hard enough.<br/>
<br/>
"Can't fucking trust you with anything! Gordon told me you and your shit friends were--" He's trembling so hard he can barely speak. "But no, I had to treat you fair, give you a chance so you could <i>fuck us all in the ass!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Just don't have a wreck," you plead.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, we'll make it out there okay," he says. "No way I'm killing myself before I get a chance to--" His phone rings, and he slams it to the side of his face. "What?" He listens. "I got a situation here, bigger than anything than you--" His mouth slams shut. He listens some more, his face passing through various shades as his eyes bug out. "Understood," he says in a very quiet voice, and drops the phone.<br/>
<br/>
"What was that about?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Icicles like daggers shine in the eyes he turns on you. "Orders from the boss," he says. "We're to meet him. And if you think <i>I'm</i> scary, Prescott, wait until the real me hears what you've done!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You huddle in a ball, not even watching where you're going. Despite your pleas, the golem refuses to change course, and your chance of getting the book and finding a hiding place recede behind you. You shut your eyes and don't even watch where you're going.<br/>
<br/>
So it's far too late to argue, or to jump out of the car, when you look up to find yourself-- "Jesus hell! What are we doing <i>here?</i>" Golem-Patterson is pulling up in front of the Strausslers' house. Joe and Frank's truck is still parked there.<br/>
<br/>
"Boss is here," the golem says. "Like it? Too bad he'll never let you see it a second time."<br/>
<br/>
<i>No, you're not likely to see it ever again.</i><br/>
<br/>
But that doesn't mean you'll go willingly, and you refuse to leave the car, even after the golem tries yanking you out. Only when two burly men join him does he get you disentangled from the front seat. They carry you, thrashing furiously, up the steps into the house.<br/>
<br/>
Through that gallery they carry you, and past the solarium, and into a sitting room in the back of the house, where they hurl you onto the floor. You look up fearfully.<br/>
<br/>
Steve Patterson is slouching insolently on the couch. <i>Fucking Patterson, master of the domain.</i><br/>
<br/>
And then you see the bruises on his face, and look over to see Curt Straussler glowering in the corner. He strides up to you. "A nice little bonus," he sneers. "How did you get away from Kim?" He looks at golem-Patterson. "And what's he doing with <i>you</i>?"<br/>
<br/>
The golem looks at Patterson. So does Straussler. "Tell him to answer me," the latter says.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson swallows. "Answer the man. Whatever he asks you."<br/>
<br/>
The golem looks between them. "He called me. I was at home, and he called me up to the university to pick him up. Screaming some shit about how some guys got loose and were on their way up to Westside--"<br/>
<br/>
"Tell it to shut up," you scream at Patterson. "Don't let it--!"<br/>
<br/>
You're silenced by a hard kick to the ribs, and you gasp and retch into the carpet.<br/>
<br/>
"Tell it to keep going," Straussler says.<br/>
<br/>
"He said some guys were on their way to Westside to get the book," the golem continues after Patterson nods at it. "He's a fucking incompetent, boss, just like Gordon--"<br/>
<br/>
"How'd you get away from Kim?" Straussler demands of you. You don't answer. He grabs you by a hank of hair. "Answer me, boy! My employees broke your friend here, and they can break you."<br/>
<br/>
"I beat him up and ran away," you mumble back.<br/>
<br/>
"Bah! Take him back to the panic room. I'll be there in a minute. Wait. First," he says as rough hands lift you up. Straussler is facing Patterson. He jerks his head at the golem. "Is that where my boy is?"<br/>
<br/>
Patterson nods curtly. Straussler swings around and shoves something against the golem. It screams, folds in half, and falls onto a settee. A mask slips from its face, revealing Jonathan Straussler.<br/>
<br/>
You gasp. Only now do you notice that Patterson is dressed in some of Straussler's clothes.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
They return you to the room where you woke earlier, and under their hard blows and Straussler's rough questions, you spill it all: about the <i>Libra,</i> and the masks, and how you and Patterson and your friends were replacing people. You tell him you didn't know that Patterson had himself replaced Jonathan, but he doesn't care. You also tell him about Joe and Frank, how they were "special guys", and how you let Joe loose, and how he was the one who beat Eric Kim unconscious. Then they leave.<br/>
<br/>
Hours pass. You hurt too much to think.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, the door opens again, and you're dragged back into that sitting room. It's dark outside, and the room is lit only by soft, tasteful lamps. Patterson is still where he'd been sitting. Straussler is there too, with his goons. And so is Eric Kim. His forehead is heavily bandaged. He's looking at a laptop. Tinny voices come from it, and you recognize one of them as your own.<br/>
<br/>
He's watching a video of your interrogation.<br/>
<br/>
He looks up at you. There's no smile on his face, but no anger either. He just looks tired. "You say the magic book was in a loft at Westside High?" he asks. "Just answer me, guys. It's been a long day, and none of us want to make it longer."<br/>
<br/>
Patterson sighs. "Yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"And Will, you told--" He looks at some notes. "You told a guy named Joe Durras where it was?"<br/>
<br/>
You nod, and avoid Patterson's eye.<br/>
<br/>
"Because it's not there now," Eric says. "The place was cleaned out. And there's no one at the house that was being rented to two guys by that name. And it was Joe that did this to me?" He points to his head, and faintly smiles. You nod again. "And on this video, you said they were what, exactly?"<br/>
<br/>
"Stellae."<br/>
<br/>
"What's that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Magicians. Like a secret society. Very old, very powerful." Patterson lifts his head.<br/>
<br/>
Eric takes a deep breath. "Curt, this is very bad. Get your family to the airport. No time to pack."<br/>
<br/>
"What, because some bloody boys--"<br/>
<br/>
"They're not 'bloody boys,' Curt. They are very dangerous. The <i>dissuo</i> isn't going to stop them. Nothing I've got can stop them. Only the big boys at Fane can protect you."<br/>
<br/>
"If this is a bloody trick to get me to sell out--"<br/>
<br/>
"It's not, Curt." They hold each other's eye. "Fine, stay here if you want. I'm bugging out. I know when I'm out of my weight class." He stands, and flicks a finger between you and Patterson. "You two can come with me if you want. I'd really like it if you did, but I'm not forcing anything on you."<br/>
<br/>
Straussler explodes. "What right have you got to--"<br/>
<br/>
"I've got the right to try to keep them alive, Curt!" Eric shouts back. "They're <i>dead</i>, Curt, dead like you and your wife and son, if they stay. Damn yourself and them if you're too proud, but you've no right to damn these guys!"</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222222222222121221111
author_id: seuzz
title: Flight to Fane
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Most of your memories from being inside Frank and Joe have rotted away by now. All that remains is an overwhelming fear of them. Joe was rough enough when he had you alone in the back of Eric's shop. Frank--<br/>
<br/>
You shudder hard. Anything would be better than facing Frank. "Can you really keep us safe?" you ask Eric Kim in a trembling voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I won't lie to you, Will," he says gravely. "Where guys like them are concerned, there's no guarantees. But it's a big world to hide in--"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be a fucking pussy, Prescott," Patterson sneers.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know these guys!" you yell at him. "I do!" You turn to Eric. "I'll go with you, if you really can protect me."<br/>
<br/>
"I can try," Eric says. To Patterson he asks, "What about you?"<br/>
<br/>
Your schoolmate scowls. "Can I just go home?"<br/>
<br/>
"As far as I'm concerned. It's your neck."<br/>
<br/>
"Hang on," Curt Straussler says. "There's a little matter of kidnapping--"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, come off it, Curt," Eric snaps. "What are you going to charge him with? Are you gonna show this stuff to the cops? You want them turning your company inside out, wondering if you've got any more--?"<br/>
<br/>
Straussler turns purple, but makes no reply. After a long pause, Patterson stands. "In that case, I got a car out front. I'll see you assholes around." He saunters out.<br/>
<br/>
"Last warning, Curt," Eric says. "You don't have to go with me back to Fane, though you'd be safer there. But you need to get your family out of here."<br/>
<br/>
Straussler tugs furiously at his lip. "I'll drop you off in London," he snaps. "After that--"<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks, I appreciate it. Get your family. Now. Two minutes. I am not joking."<br/>
<br/>
Straussler strides from the room; his goons look uneasily at each other.<br/>
<br/>
But Eric ignores them. "Listen, Will," he says, and grips your arm. "I don't want you to worry about anything. Where we're going you'll be fine. They'll take care of you. You've got information that they'll value a lot, and they'll pay you back by keeping you safe. But you're leaving your life behind. You know that, right?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Exile.</i> Your gut lurches. But it's that or Frank Durras. You nod.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright," Eric says. "Stick with me, we'll take separate cars out to the air field. The Strausslers are not happy with you, obviously, and you and me should talk anyway."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So you ride out with Eric, trailing behind the Strausslers in their BMW, to the municipal airport. A Gulfstream jet is already out and being fueled. Eric smiles wryly. "How'd you like to be rich enough to have three private planes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Patterson wanted it," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
Eric laughs. "And I don't blame him. I don't blame you either. Just remember that we're hitching a ride with the people you tried robbing."<br/>
<br/>
The flight is less awkward than you'd feared it would be. Curt and Jonathan look very grim as they board the plane, and Mrs. Straussler looks harried and frightened. But they disappear into a back cabin and close the door. You and Eric are up near the front, in two very comfortable seats. After the plane has reached cruising altitude, a stewardess serves up a small but rich dinner of steak and lobster and French fries. You and Eric talk.<br/>
<br/>
"It's called 'Fane'," Eric says. "It's a conglomerate, or a conglomerate of conglomerates, actually, all very big and complicated. I work for them."<br/>
<br/>
"They're in the comic book business?"<br/>
<br/>
He has to put his silverware down as he laughs very long and hard. "No, Will, they're not in the comic book business. Or maybe they are, they got their dicks stuck in all kinds of places. But, uh-- Have you ever heard of industrial espionage? The business of stealing technology and trade secrets and stuff?" You nod. "Well, that's what I do. I'm one of their agents. The comic book shop is just a cover. It's a good match for me, 'cos I love that stuff anyway. But it doesn't pay the rent."<br/>
<br/>
"Who's in Saratoga Falls that you'd be spying on?" You glance behind you. "Is it the Strausslers?" you whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"No, we leave them alone. We'd like to be in business with them, actually. That was another one of my jobs, keeping Curt intrigued with some of the little gadgets and stuff we have."<br/>
<br/>
"Like that thing he used to unmask me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Damnable bit of luck, that. I'm kinda sorry you got caught. It was a neat play you guys were making, and since I'm in the espionage racket myself I can appreciate it on its own terms." He puts his fork down long enough to shake your hand. "But I was actually keeping an eye on the military base. Fort Suffolk."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh. Of course.</i><br/>
<br/>
"They're a research station," he continues, "and some of our rivals are working on some interesting stuff out there."<br/>
<br/>
That doesn't seem to square with his owning a comic book shop, and you say as much. Again, he laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know military types," he says. "They <i>love</i> the stuff I carry. Oh my God, the coin they drop. You might not have seen them around the store much, but it wasn't you guys, it was <i>them</i> that kept me in business. Well, that's not true," he adds. "Home office was subsidizing me.<br/>
<br/>
"Now, Fane's gonna be real interested in what you can tell them about that book and those masks," he continues. "That's how you're going to pay for your protection."<br/>
<br/>
"There's not a lot I can tell them. Patterson had the book, and he was running things--"<br/>
<br/>
"They'll be interested in all that, sure, but they're gonna be more interested in your two magic guys. From what you said in your, uh, interview--" He shifts uncomfortably, and leans close. "I'm real sorry about that. I mean, I'da gotten it out of you myself, but it woulda been a lot nicer with me. Anyway," he continues when you don't reply. "You got close to those two magic guys. Real close. Anything you can tell us about them will be very valuable."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you gonna try capturing them?"<br/>
<br/>
Eric is silent a moment. "I won't lie to you, Will, one reason I let your friend stay behind was to act as bait for those two. But I'm not hopeful we can catch them. They're way out of my league, at least. But anything you can tell me about them will help us protect you."<br/>
<br/>
So you tell Eric your story, from the beginning, with as much detail as you can remember under his prodding. He slides his meal away and takes copious notes. It fills the otherwise boring flight.<br/>
<br/>
"This is excellent, Will," he says when you're done. "This is amazing."<br/>
<br/>
"I just got lucky. And I had the masks--"<br/>
<br/>
"And did some really impressive things with them. It's a pity you can't tell us more about Frank and Joe's organization, but I bet Fane knows more about them, and you can help fill in a few pieces."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that all I'm going to do, give them my story?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," he admits. "They'll put you in a protection program, at the very least. But I wouldn't be surprised if they offered you a job."<br/>
<br/>
<i>What?</i> "But I'm just a kid, I don't know how to do anything," you protest.<br/>
<br/>
"Everyone is just a kid when they start out," Eric says. "But you got talent, and Fane values talent. You'll land on your feet. You'll see."<br/>
<br/>
He settles back, and you do too. It's been a long and busy day, and you soon doze off, though your slumber is uneasy.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're woken with a jolt, and the stewardess appears to tell you and Eric to prepare for landing. Thirty minutes later, you exit the plane under a dull gray sky. "Welcome to sunny England," he laughs.<br/>
<br/>
A silver Bentley is waiting for you, and you have a comfortable two-hour drive out into the countryside. Eric tells you only a little more. "You're going to be meeting one of the top guys at Fane," he says. "Don't worry about it. While you were sleeping I went up into the pilots' cabin and sent them my report. I talked you up. He'll be eager to meet you, treat you nice."<br/>
<br/>
You're still very nervous, and more so when the ride ends in front of one of those big English country houses like you've seen on TV. A butler admits you and Eric, and guides you into a cozy parlor. Eric just indicates that you should  keep still. <br/>
<br/>
After a few minutes a door that's been hidden behind some paneling opens. A man in a dark three-piece suit steps out. He looks like he's in his sixties, with a narrow, well-lined face and white hair. His eyes twinkle warmly, and he greets you with quiet but formal courtesy. "Mr. Prescott, so pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Jameson Hyde-White. Mr. Kim has said that he's already told you a great deal about us." He glances at Eric, who nods. "I will come to the point, then. Your life is in a great deal of danger. We can protect you. But we can do more than that. We can offer you employment. Would you like a job with us?"<br/>
<br/>
Despite Eric's anticipations, the offer still startles you. "Don't you want to ask me questions first?"<br/>
<br/>
"This first question is the most important," he says. "We will keep you safe, whether you say 'Yes' or 'No,' have no fear of that. It is merely a matter of whether you want to work for us."<br/>
<br/>
"But I don't really know anything."<br/>
<br/>
His smile remains warm. "You know more than you think. Everyone does."</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222222222221212211111
author_id: seuzz
title: Speak, Memory!
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>One of these days you're gonna have to start earning your keep.</i> So your dad often growled when finding you goofing off on the laptop or game player. His words instantly recur to you now. You don't feel you've got a choice: If these guys are going to protect you for the rest of your life, you need to pay them back.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't mind work," you say. But you still feel nervous. "So what kind of thing can I do for you?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Now we <i>will</i> have an interview," says Hyde-White. "We have placement services, of course, and I suspect we shall put you in various spots, just to see where your aptitudes and interests are. For right now, though, I'd like to go back over the story you gave Mr. Kim. Oh, let's all sit down, shall we?"<br/>
<br/>
You think that you and Eric, in your quasi-castoff American clothes, look very out of place in this tasteful English sitting room, but the natty Hyde-White seems not to notice. From a briefcase by his side he draws out a thin sheaf of papers. "If I may," he says, "I'll ask you to tell me your story again from the beginning. Pray do not take it amiss if I ask you some questions that may not make immediate sense."<br/>
<br/>
The interview that follows is very long, but it is not tiring, for Hyde-White keeps it cordial and relaxed, and his bright interest in your tale keeps you alert. A kind of tea is brought in not once but twice during the long afternoon that follows. You feel yourself settled in quite comfortably by the end.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White covers everything from every angle, even asking about why you and Steve chose the victims you did, and closely tracks your process of reasoning at each step. But he is most interested, for obvious reasons, in the book, and how you came to have it. He asks sharply about Arnholm's Used Books and its proprietors. Here is where you are first startled by some of those questions that might not make "immediate sense." He asks you to associate certain colors with the bookshop and its staff, and odors associated with the station where Ted Arnolm liked to work. He asks for the feel of the book as you and they handled it. Your replies are impressionistic, for you've virtually no memory of that day. But then you blurt out "Blackwell acquisition" when Hyde-White asks you why the book was so expensive. <br/>
<br/>
"What does that mean?" Hyde-White asks keenly.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," you stammer. <br/>
<br/>
"Then why did you say it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. I seem to see a lot of books that it must have been with, because--" You feel like you're sinking. "Because of the 'Blackwell' acquisition'," you murmur. "It was part of the Blackwell acquisition," you add more firmly. "Why would I remember that?" In fact, you're not sure it's a real memory.<br/>
<br/>
"Triggering of memory patterns via associations," Hyde-White says with a smile. "I thought we might find something there. Unbidden, you told me that Messrs. Arnholm did not know where the book came from. That suggested to me that you <i>did</i> know, but didn't remember, and that your subconscious was trying to provoke the answer."<br/>
<br/>
"That's amazing!"<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White smiles and gives you a small bow. He resumes the interrogation.<br/>
<br/>
Gradually, it moves on to a discussion of the Durrases. You do your best to tell him all you remember from your time inside them, and he again offers many indirect questions, but these lead to no breakthroughs as before. You express frustration; Hyde-White remains quite cool. "Do not let it trouble you. It actually tells me quite a lot about these masks. The memories they contain are only feigned, and make no impression upon your actual consciousness unless you are in direct contact with them. That is <i>most</i> interesting, and saves us a lot of troublesome speculation." <br/>
<br/>
There is more profit to be had in recounting the things you did while playing Frank and Joe. With the same kind of prodding you are able to supply him with their address, cell phone numbers, and even debit card numbers. All this he puts down carefully in notes of his own. "Now close your eyes," he directs. "We are going to play a game of free association. You must reply with only one of three words: 'Joe,' 'Frank,' and 'Other'. Are you ready?"<br/>
<br/>
The game lasts only a few minutes. The words "gold," "crossroads" and "sextant" get associated with Joe. "Pressure," "mantle" and "granary" with Frank. The other words--like "mirror", "watering can," "scepter," "aqueduct," and "blueprint"--go with "other." Hyde-White's face seems to glow with pleasure when you're done.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm most impressed with your memory," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"My dad always called me a scatterbrain."<br/>
<br/>
"The mark of a fertile but undisciplined intellect," Hyde-White says. "I myself suffered that reputation for the first forty years of my life."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The sun has long since set--night sure falls early in England--when he announces himself satisfied. "For the moment," he adds as a laughing caution. "I've worked you hard, Mr. Prescott, but you've borne up admirably." He rings a bell. "Tomlinson will show you to a room." The butler appears and leads you upstairs to a small but comfortably furnished bedroom. You sit on the bed and reflect on the astonishing turn your life has taken in only forty-eight hours.<br/>
<br/>
A few minutes later there's a soft knock, and Eric sticks his head in. "You here? Will, dude, you did great." He sticks out his hand, and you shake it.<br/>
<br/>
"What happens now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not my business, I'm afraid. They're posting me elsewhere, since Saratoga Falls is now too hot for both us."<br/>
<br/>
"Am I gonna see you again?"<br/>
<br/>
"I hope so. I wouldn't mind working with you. You're impressing the hell out of a lot of people." With a chuck to your shoulder, he leaves you.<br/>
<br/>
It's like the snapping of a thread. Eric Kim was your last connection to Saratoga Falls; and though you connected under bad circumstances, after the plane ride and his friendly talk and encouragement, you feel like you're losing a friend.<br/>
<br/>
Not long after, Tomlinson summons you downstairs, where you eat a solid dinner by yourself. "The Professor will see you tomorrow," he says when you ask about Hyde-White. <i>So he's a professor,</i> you think as you chew a thick slice of roast beef. You'd have pegged him as a banker.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wake the next morning to find fresh clothes--cream-colored slacks, a loose and comfortable shirt, and a blazer--set out for you. You bathe and dress and wander downstairs. You look into that parlor from yesterday. Hyde-White is sitting there, studying some papers through half-rim spectacles. You gasp, and start to withdraw.<br/>
<br/>
He looks up, and with a quick motion pulls the glasses off and gestures you in. "You look very nice, Mr. Prescott," he says. "Pray don't worry about interrupting me. I was just about to send for you, if you were decent. How did you sleep?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like a rock. I was pretty exhausted. Uh, are we going to have another interview?"<br/>
<br/>
"If you don't mind," Hyde-White says. "It will be much less fraught than yesterday's, though." From the side of the sofa he lifts a large sketch pad. "I was <i>most</i> impressed with your memory yesterday. I was hoping you would allow me to put you into a hypnotic trance. I suspect there is a great deal more that we can learn that way."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not going to make me walk around and cluck like a chicken, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
He laughs--though it sounds a little forced--and assures you there will be "no tomfoolery" involved. So you agree to it.<br/>
<br/>
He makes you get comfortable, and then sits close to you, opposite you. The preparations take a very long time, with him asking you to think of various things and to repeat various words and then he gives you the sketchpad and you spend a very long time drawing, and when he takes it from you he counts backwards. When he reaches zero you blink. "Is that all?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I think it's quite enough," he says with a slight chuckle. He eyes the sketchpad greedily. <br/>
<br/>
You glance around. It is very dark, with no light showing through the curtains. "Is it raining?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Hmm? Oh no, it's quite late. I worked you much harder than I anticipated. The day is done."<br/>
<br/>
"Already?" Your eyes nearly pop from your head. "What was I doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not much, dear boy. Only giving us everything we could have asked of you. Look." <br/>
<br/>
He turns the sketchpad toward you. The sheet is covered with a circle of elaborate and minutely drawn symbols. He flips the page. There is another, and another behind it.<br/>
<br/>
You start hard. <i>It can't be.</i> "Those are--"<br/>
<br/>
"Indeed they are. The sigils of the spells you and your friends worked."<br/>
<br/>
"I copied some of them when I had the book, but--"<br/>
<br/>
"And you remembered them, under hypnotic prompting. Prodigious." He sets the pad down and leans toward you. There is no mistaking the hunger in his expression. "Mr. Prescott," he says softly. "Would you care to continue your research into these things, under our guidance and protection? You need not say 'Yes'. There are many areas I think we could employ you in, to our mutual advantage."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at him dumbly.<br/>
<br/>
After a moment he speaks again. "Do not worry over it, please. Let your intuition be your guide. Speak sudden, be brief."</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222222222212122111112
author_id: seuzz
title: A New Paige in an Old Book
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You gaze at the sigils that you drew while under hypnosis. "I don't know anything about these things," you tell Professor Hyde-White.<br/>
<br/>
"We would educate you," he replies. But he doesn't press. "I trust your intuition, my boy."<br/>
<br/>
Instead, he asks you how to use the sigils to make masks. He doesn't put you under hypnosis again, for you can do a pretty good job of describing it. "I am greatly indebted to you, Mr. Prescott, and shall not forget this," he says when you're done.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That still leaves the matter of what to do with you. The next morning the professor is gone, but at around ten o'clock another man shows up at the house. He's much younger than the professor--he looks like he's in his mid-twenties--and introduces himself as Julian Dey. "Professor Hyde-White asked me to give you some diagnostic tests," Dey says. "Help us figure out where to use you."<br/>
<br/>
So that day and the next are taken up with lots of interviews and test-type situations; there are also some brief lectures and exercises: "We wanna see how fast you can learn and memorize," Dey explains. He never gives you an account of what he is learning about you, and if he doesn't seem impressed with you, he doesn't seem contemptuous, either.<br/>
<br/>
You have the third day entirely to yourself, and a bad day it is, too, for you're nearly going stir-crazy.<br/>
<br/>
But the day after that you are taken by car to Cambridge University, where you are shown to Professor Hyde-White's rooms. They are very old, but seem very comfortable, and you like the way the heat from the fireplace fills the polished wooden spaces.<br/>
<br/>
But Professor Hyde-White has something else on his mind. "Tomlinson told me you were restless yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't got anything to do," you say, trying not to whine.<br/>
<br/>
"Quite right. It's not good for a lad your age to be cooped up, waiting for his elders to decide what to do with him. So I've arranged to give you something this afternoon."<br/>
<br/>
"A job?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, a place." There's a knock at the door. "And here she is."<br/>
<br/>
<i>A place? She?</i><br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White opens the door. A girl comes in.<br/>
<br/>
You've seen girls like this before; you've just not been this close to one. She looks to be about your age, though maybe a little older. She is very pale, but her lipstick and eye shadow are very dark. Her hair is probably naturally dark, but it looks like it's been dyed jet-black. Half a head of the stuff hangs over one side of her face; the other side of her head has been shaved down to stubble. There's a suspicious, truculent, hunted look in her eye, and she darts her unfriendly gaze between you and the professor. "Miss Knotts, thank you for coming," Hyde-White says.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," she grunts in some kind of local accent. She unslings the pack from her shoulder and drops over to the chair next to yours. "Some people stand up when a lady walks in," she mutters.<br/>
<br/>
Okay, maybe you didn't stand up, but you are sitting up very straight, and you stiffen harder under the implied rebuke.<br/>
<br/>
"Ms. Knotts is one of our prospective bioengineering students," Hyde-White says as he steps into a small kitchenette. "Well, she's already in our medical program, but she's shown such promise that we'd like to move her into the biomedical engineering field."<br/>
<br/>
"Cool," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"You even know what bioengineering is?" the girl asks. Her tone is contemptuous.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, no," you admit. "But it sounds cool. Like cyborgs and stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not exactly," Hyde-White says as he returns. He extends a tea cup to you and one to the girl. "This is Mr. Prescott, Ms. Knotts. He is also a prospective student. I thought you two might like to get acquainted."<br/>
<br/>
She gives you a steady look up and down. "You a Yank?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"And you're at Cambridge?"<br/>
<br/>
"I am now." You rub your palms on your knees.<br/>
<br/>
"And you don't know what bioengineering is."<br/>
<br/>
"Why don't you refresh yourself, Ms. Knotts," Hyde-White interjects, "and explain it to Mr. Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
She gives him a pinched look, and hunches down in her chair. She lifts the cup to her lips and slurps some of the tea. "It's like engineering, but applied to biology."<br/>
<br/>
There's a pause. Hyde-White chuckles dryly. "It is a very broad term, with many specialties and applications. In our case--the field that myself and Ms. Knotts are exploring--you are not far off in talking of 'cyborgs', Mr. Prescott. But we're not interested in augmenting the body with mechanical or electronic parts. Rather, we are interested in re-engineering the body so as to mimic the functionality of such devices. We treat the body as a machine which itself can be redesigned and restructured, and do catch the girl before she bumps her head."<br/>
<br/>
As he says this, Ms. Knotts slides off the chair. Hyde-White leaps forward; you, more uselessly, grope at air as her teacup and saucer spill all over the floor. "I'll clean up the mess," you stammer. "Where are the paper towels?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll see to that, Mr. Prescott," Hyde-White says. "You see to this." From a desk drawer he extracts an oval, bluish object.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart leaps into your throat, then dives into your toes. It's a mask. <i>We've found you a place,</i> Hyde-White had said. <i>And here she is.</i><br/>
<br/>
"You know how to use it, Mr. Prescott," Hyde-White says softly.<br/>
<br/>
Reluctantly, you take it and drop it onto the girl's face. It sinks into her. <i>Well,</i> you reflect to yourself. <i>You need a hiding place anyway.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You brush your long hair over to the side and pull it behind your ear. From your bag you extract the black lipstick and drag it across your lips. The figure in the bathroom mirror glares at you as sullenly as you glare at it.<br/>
<br/>
When you're touched up to your satisfaction, you put every thing away, straighten out your jacket, and sling a soft satchel over your shoulder. You give yourself another lookover, then with a lack of ladylike grace--but with a directness entirely in character for Paige Knotts--grab the inner seam on a dark stocking and straighten it out. Again, you toss your hair back and trudge heavily into the professor's sitting room. "Yeah, so I'm ready. What now?"<br/>
<br/>
He gives a little start, and looks you up and down. "My God," he murmurs, and a shadow crosses his face. "I suppose," he says, and to your surprise there's a slight stammer in it. "I suppose you know where to find your classrooms?"<br/>
<br/>
"Course," you snort. "The first floor in the new medical building. I sit behind those two arseholes in the rugby shirts."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you like arseholes in rugby shirts?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Depends." You tilt your chin. "How much money they got, an' how many drinks they willing to buy me."<br/>
<br/>
"Where were you born, Mr. Prescott?" Hyde-White murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"Saratoga Falls," you reply without hesitation. "But who do you want me acting like, me or this girl? Because if I'm s'pposed to be hiding out--"<br/>
<br/>
"Quite," Hyde-White says. "I was only checking. I don't know Ms. Knotts very well, but it seems a most convincing impersonation." He has turned a little pale.<br/>
<br/>
"You want I should be her perfectly?"<br/>
<br/>
"For your own protection."<br/>
<br/>
"And where's the real Paige Knotts gone?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's been removed. To clear the way for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh," you say, hiding the shiver. "I best be off then." You check the time on your phone. "Got friends I'm s'pposed to meet. I didn't even wanna come see you, but--"<br/>
<br/>
"You found the scholarship offer tantalizing?" Hyde-White smiles thinly. "It's been approved. Just now. It even comes with a new apartment." He holds out a key. "In Wolfson Court."<br/>
<br/>
"Where's that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Girton College."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not in Girton."<br/>
<br/>
"Your room is." The key dangles from his fingers.<br/>
<br/>
You snatch it. "Whatever. When's it available?"<br/>
<br/>
"Immediately."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll take a look, then, an' get my friends to help me move. Shall I see you tomorrow?"<br/>
<br/>
"For class, yes. And after, for a short consultation."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, thanks for the new situation, professor. Let me know what I can do to pay for it." You hike your satchel back onto your shoulder, and leave. <i>Bony old arsehole,</i> you catch yourself muttering.<br/>
<br/>
To your surprise, Rob is lounging on a bench across the courtyard when you emerge. "Luv!" he calls, and stands up. You smile as best Paige Knotts can manage, and hurry to meet him.<br/>
<br/>
He's quite tall—at least an inch over six feet—with broad shoulders tapering down to slim hips and legs. His brown hair is cut short, and his eyes sit deep over chiseled cheekbones and a sharp chin. His teeth are very white. Only the chain dangling from his left ear clashes with the air of rich preppiness.<br/>
<br/>
He puts his arms around you, and claps his palms to your ass. "How was your meeting with Hyde-White?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Most excellent. Got the scholarship. <i>And</i> a new flat."<br/>
<br/>
A queer light comes into his eye. "They really want you. I'm glad."<br/>
<br/>
"For me, luv?"<br/>
<br/>
"For all of us."<br/>
<br/>
A chill brushes the back of your neck. "For who?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You glare at them and fold your arms more tightly. You can't speak, only snarl.<br/>
<br/>
"But it's perfect," Rob says. "You know what we've heard about what goes on in that program. The experimentation, the cover ups--"<br/>
<br/>
"And still you pushed me into it!"<br/>
<br/>
"And now you're in good," says Trish. "Think of the lies and abuses you could expose—"<br/>
<br/>
"The spying, you mean!"<br/>
<br/>
Rob lays his hand over yours. "You're the one who talked me into these ideals, Paige. If anyone should want to take Hyde-White and his experiments down, it should be you."</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222222222222121221111121
author_id: seuzz
title: Inside Scoops
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You're using me!" you spit. "All of you!"<br/>
<br/>
"No one's using you," Trish insists. "These are your own ideals."<br/>
<br/>
"Spying is not my idea of--!"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought that's why you joined the bioengineering program," says Jacob, who's sitting between Trish and Winnie. "To see what it was all about on the inside."<br/>
<br/>
You whirl and stare daggers at Rob. "You're the one who told me to apply there. You told me I was good at it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," he says, looking wounded and puzzled. "Your grades, your background interests, they were perfect for--"<br/>
<br/>
"And even after these guys--" The sweep of your hand takes in the other three. "Even after they started talking about the department, those rumors, you still told me to go for it!"<br/>
<br/>
Rob stares back stubbornly and says nothing. Trish and Jacob exchange glances. "Uh, didn't Rob say anything about <i>why</i> he wanted you to--"<br/>
<br/>
"No!" Another spasm of anger engulfs you. "I guess I was just a fucking ass to assume! You sure as hell treated me like an ass, Robert Oliver, and that makes you an ass too!" You struggle to your feet.<br/>
<br/>
"Paige," Rob says, and tries to push you back.<br/>
<br/>
"Hands off me, you fucking--" You break into hard sobs.<br/>
<br/>
A burly man looms over to the table. "You lot are gonna have to--"<br/>
<br/>
"They're fine," you bawl at him. "I'm leaving!"<br/>
<br/>
"Paige!" Rob weakly tries grabbing you. You twist away, and stumble over his feet as you struggle from the booth.<br/>
<br/>
"Let 'er go," says the barman roughly. "Take it outta 'ere, miss, and don't come back until you're--" The rest of his warning is lost in the roaring in your ears as you rush from the shop.<br/>
<br/>
Head down, you charge along the sidewalk toward Paige's old flat. There are some boxes in the back; you can pack up a few key essentials and get them to the new place before Rob and them can catch you. You'll grab a sandwich somewhere and have a good night's sleep and then--<br/>
<br/>
Somewhere beneath Paige Knotts' boiling anger, Will Prescott watches with a cooler detachment. You're a little frightened of the fact that you've fallen into a plot of some kind, and wonder if Hyde-White intentionally put you into it. But it doesn't really matter. Paige Knotts would simply tell Rob and the others to fuck off, but you intend to tell your new employer what you've stumbled into.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"And how did you meet Mr. Oliver?" Hyde-White asks as he peers at the image on your cell phone.<br/>
<br/>
"Here at uni. A biology class last term. Normally, Rob wouldn't be my type— I mean, Paige's type—"<br/>
<br/>
"For the duration of our conversation, I will assume that our pronouns refer to Ms. Knotts. Employ them accordingly."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, well, he's not really my type, but we hit it off--"<br/>
<br/>
"What is your type?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well ... <i>This.</i>" You point at yourself.<br/>
<br/>
"And Mr. Oliver isn't this type?"<br/>
<br/>
"Look at him. His dad's some supremo at a food company and his mum's a lawyer. They got this big house down in--"<br/>
<br/>
"And yet the two of you hit it off." Hyde-White looks amused.<br/>
<br/>
You make a sour face. <i>Yeah, you hit it off. As you said earlier, you like a guy who's got money and will spend it on you.</i> Rob Oliver had that, and a good face and body. And if his parents looked and acted like perfect Tories, Rob was on the outs with them on account of the way they'd stopped his sister from marrying that marine biologist. You got him to pierce his ear, and showed him some wild videos, and talked him into trying some of the wild things they did in those videos, and talked about anarchism and--<br/>
<br/>
<i>And if you play the game right, in twenty years you and Rob will be living in a house just like his parents', driving cars like just theirs, and taking vacations in places just like them. Maybe even voting the same way, if that's what it takes to hang on to money like they've got.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, we had fun," you say with a shrug.<br/>
<br/>
"And your friends here." Hyde-White flicks the screen to a shot of Trish and Jacob.<br/>
<br/>
"His friends. Well, he met them through me. Sort of." You shrug again, and Hyde-White cocks an eyebrow. "We went to a club, and these guys were there. They were into me, because--" Again, you point to yourself. "But then they really hit it off with Rob. He doesn't see much of his old crowd anymore." Hyde-White flicks to a new picture. "That's Winnie. Her and Jacob are--" You slide your finger back and forth inside your closed fist. "Well, her and Jacob and Trish are. They take turns pairing off."<br/>
<br/>
Now Hyde-White raises both his eyebrows. "Is this Jacob fellow Jewish?"<br/>
<br/>
He would think that; there is something vaguely Hasidic about Jacob's hipster glasses and hipster hat and hipster beard. But you shake your head. "Don't think so. He's got a Palestinian flag sewn onto his jacket."<br/>
<br/>
"So they all subscribe to the usual cluster of orthodoxies?"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, socialism, feminism, post colonialism—" Hyde-White's tone turns weary even as he speaks more rapidly. "Environmentalism, vegetarianism, anti-speciesism, anti-heterosexism, anti-anthropism--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, pretty much. Something wrong with those politics?"<br/>
<br/>
"My dear, I piss on all politics. I'm merely trying to understand your friends and why they should have a vendetta against me and this department."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, on account of the rumors."<br/>
<br/>
"What rumors?" he asks sharply.<br/>
<br/>
"Animal experimentation," you say, not bothering to speak carefully. "Human experimentation. Kidnapping. Torture."<br/>
<br/>
You'd expect an angry denial, but Hyde-White just looks wry. "And <i>who</i> has been feeding them such nonsense?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
You doubt it is nonsense, not after the way Hyde-White got rid of a girl yesterday so you could take her place. "I dunno. Some friend of Jacob's. Jacob says we're like a cell, so he won't tell us who this other guy is."<br/>
<br/>
"There are other cells?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess."<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White settles back in his chair. "Who else is involved?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just the people I've shown you."<br/>
<br/>
"Well," Hyde-White says, and smiles thinly. "This <i>is</i> unexpected, though perhaps not surprising in retrospect. Ms. Knotts' exams showed certain aptitudes, but I had qualms after seeing her in person. Her <i>type,</i> you know. That's why I thought a combination of talents--" He trails off before resuming. "At any rate, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that she has friends with anti-progressive prejudices."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do you want me to do?" you ask. <i>As if you couldn't guess ...</i><br/>
<br/>
"I would like to know how dangerous these people are. Are they likely to try anything violent?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think so," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"And yet they talk of themselves as members of a 'cell'. That is the language of revolutionaries and terrorists, not activists."<br/>
<br/>
"So you want me to spy on them?"<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White looks puckish. "The surest way to discover their intentions is to get inside their heads," he says. "You know of devices that could give us that, of course." You nod. "Stop by my rooms tomorrow afternoon, and I will provide you with five such items."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Here's the last of it," Rob says, setting a cardboard box down in the middle of the floor. "Along with a bit of extra." From the box he draws a sandwich, and tosses it to you.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, thanks," you say. "I mean, thanks for everything." You unwrap the end of the sandwich and sniff at it. "Oh, what's--? This is new."<br/>
<br/>
"It's pesto. Turkey and roasted pepper."<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds expensive. Nice, too. Mmph." You take a bite. It is quite rich. "You know," you say around the food. "I didn't say sorry yesterday for being a cunt."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes you did, silly. Lots of times."<br/>
<br/>
"I apologized for being a bitch. Not for being a cunt. I'm sorry."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm sorry for being a-- You can fill in the blank, you saw it more clearly than I did." He steps up close to you, and brushes at your hair. "I really didn't mean to put you on the spot. None of us did."<br/>
<br/>
"I know. And you're right. I just don't know about-- I mean, being a <i>spy?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Not a spy, Paige. Just keeping your eyes open."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. But still, what would your dad say? Who does he work for?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sainsbury's."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure it's not Marks &amp; Spencer?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's just his style."<br/>
<br/>
"He doesn't much like mine," you mumble.<br/>
<br/>
"I do, and that's what counts." He brushes your hair again, then looks around. "So, we'll eat, then I'll help get you moved in proper."<br/>
<br/>
Two hours later, the new rooms are nicely put together, and Rob starts to excuse himself. "I thought you were going to help move me in proper," you protest. "I'm not sleeping my first night here a virgin."<br/>
<br/>
His expression turns a little shifty. "Uh, I don't know how to break it to you, Paige. But you're not a virgin."<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't talking about me, I was talking about these rooms." You grab him by the belt buckle and pull him close. "We got 'em fixed up right, now help me <i>break 'em in.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Around three in the morning, when Rob is snoring on his back, you slide one of the metal bands onto his forehead.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Hal Swann," you say. "At least, that's the name he's given Jacob."<br/>
<br/>
"Where is he?" Hyde-White asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Here at Cambridge. They talk by phone, sometimes meet in a pub. Swann's constantly around. Says he works as a tutor while finishing his degree."<br/>
<br/>
"And how would you approach this Hal Swann?"<br/>
<br/>
You glance at the mask of Paige, which is lying on a nearby table while rubbing your forehead, inside of which buzzes the brain of Jacob Darrow.</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222222222221212211111212
author_id: seuzz
title: Pillow Talk
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Jacob's eyes light up when he opens the door. "Paige! You're a nice girl for a chap to find on his doorstep." And then his eyes cloud over when he sees your expression. "Uh oh, what's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"I need to talk. About Rob." You push your way into his flat. "You alone?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, Winnie's got—"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, lock the door and turn off the phone. I don't want us to be bothered."<br/>
<br/>
Jacob stares at you a moment before softly shutting the door. "It's that bad?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not <i>bad,</i> Jacob, it's just bloody impossible. God!" You cover your face and hurl yourself onto his sofa, bouncing books and papers onto the floor. "Rob is— Well, you know Rob. You just have to look at him to know what I mean." Jacob regards you gravely. He takes a step in your direction, but you stop him. "Please lock the door. I'm serious about no one busting in."<br/>
<br/>
"They'll just knock."<br/>
<br/>
"So you won't answer it."<br/>
<br/>
Jacob clicks the latch shut. You haul your satchel into your lap, hugging it and playing with the zipper. "Look, what do you think about me and Rob, being together, being a couple, I mean. Come sit down."<br/>
<br/>
"Rob's a good guy. You're a great girl, Paige." He shrugs defensively. "If it works for you—"<br/>
<br/>
"But <i>is</i> it going to work, Jake?" you ask, and he sighs at the unloved nickname. "Like I say, look at him and look at me."<br/>
<br/>
"Looks are just looks. His heart's in the right place. So's yours."<br/>
<br/>
"But is it gonna <i>stay</i> there? His heart. Or mine, come to that. Come sit next to me. I feel like I'm in the witness dock or something, and you're the—" Jacob sits down on the couch. You turn, sitting on your knees so you can lean in on him. "Am I just a ... a <i>thing</i> he's playing with?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm sure that's not—"<br/>
<br/>
"Because his mum and dad hate me. Did he tell you about the one time we—" You cover your face. "Is he just using me to get back at them? Because he's just furious—"<br/>
<br/>
"He's not using you, Paige, absolutely not."<br/>
<br/>
"Not even to spy out the bioengineering program?"<br/>
<br/>
Jacob flinches hard.<br/>
<br/>
"Because if he's not above using me for that, why should I think he's not above—"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought we had all that settled, Paige."<br/>
<br/>
"I know. But do you blame me for—?" You lean back with a deep and unhappy sigh. "I look at you and Winnie and Trish, and then I look at me and Rob, and—" You hang your head. "I wonder if I'm using him."<br/>
<br/>
"For what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Getting back at his mum and dad."<br/>
<br/>
Jacob blinks. "I thought you said <i>Rob</i> was the one who—"<br/>
<br/>
"But maybe it's fun for me too? God, I <i>hate</i> people like his parents, and maybe I'm just taking their sweet baby boy away from them to hurt them. Maybe we're just using each other to get back at them for our own reasons." You rub your nose. "At least Rob's reasons are worth something. Mine are just spite. If that's my reason. It just seems like we're not natural for each other!"<br/>
<br/>
"What's natural is if two people like each other," Jacob says.<br/>
<br/>
"Or three, in your case?" You cock your head. "You and Winnie and Trish look natural together, no matter what people like Rob's parents say."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we've known each other a long time."<br/>
<br/>
You swallow. What you're going to say next would be impossible for Will Prescott to say, and it's not very easy for Paige Knotts to say. Fortunately, Paige Knotts is very good at lying to get what she wants. "I kind of wish I'd met you guys before I met Rob."<br/>
<br/>
Jacob stiffens a little. "Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Look, I've been with guys before, lots of guys, I'm not gonna lie about it. But they were all, you know, like—" You shrug. "Boys just getting started, wanting something brag about with their mates. Or guys at clubs. When I met up with Rob, oh, he was such a change. Not just because he wasn't in the kind of crowd I ran around with, but because he was so nice about it. He made me feel like he was interested in <i>me,</i> and not just on getting himself off inside a girl."<br/>
<br/>
"There you are," says Jacob. "That's why you and Rob—"<br/>
<br/>
"But Rob's so different, it's like I've gone way too far the other way. I think I should be with someone who's, well—" You twist about on the sofa. "Someone who's more like the type of guy I used to fuck around with, someone who's not so— It's always the same way with Rob, he only knows one way to do it. Or likes to do it." Jacob begins to turn very red. "You and Trish and Winnie, you're more like the kind I'd <i>like</i> to be with, and I'd like to try it and see if I'm—"<br/>
<br/>
Jacob's phone rings.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't answer that," you say. "Please don't." It rings again. "Please just put it away, and let's— I won't ever ask you again, Jacob, you'd have to ask me, but I will never ever ask you again if you don't say yes to what I'm asking you now."<br/>
<br/>
Jacob pushes his fingers under his glasses and rubs his eyes. "Alright, Paige," he sighs. "I'd be lying if I said it was going to be a chore." He tosses the phone away after it stops ringing. "But I want you to know it's because you say you need this, not because—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know what I'm doing," you say. "This is just— Well, I guess I'll follow you, then." For Jacob has already risen from the sofa, and he puts out a hand. You let him guide you back to the bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
It's disordered, with clothes and more books piled on the mattress, and he pushes them roughly off. He sits on the bed and takes off his shoes. You push his hat off and reach inside his jacket, but he brushes you back. "I'll take care of this," he says. "You take care of—" He gestures at your blouse.<br/>
<br/>
So you unbutton it while kicking off your own shoes. "Think you can get my--?" You turn around, and he unclasps your bra like an expert. You let it fall to the ground, and with a drooping chin turn to show him your breasts. But he ignores them, and stands to pull out his belt and unbutton his jeans. You peel your own pants off. He hooks a finger into his briefs and pulls them off. He puts a hairy thigh next to your smooth one, puts one hand on your back and another on your hip, and guides you back onto the bed.<br/>
<br/>
"Mm, can you let me get on top," you say as he throws a leg over you. "It's just more comfortable for me, I think. And Rob never lets me—"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, but can we not talk about Rob?" He lays back, and pulls you down toward him. It takes you a moment to find his mouth inside his beard, and its bristles scratch all over and around your lips. He kisses you hard, and pulls you into a tight grip.<br/>
<br/>
"Can we do something about--? Do you need these to see?" You twitch his black-framed glasses off his face. "They're getting in my way."<br/>
<br/>
"I kind of do need them to see," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"God, how can you see through all this grime," you ask as you peer through the lenses. "Hang on, I've got just the stuff to wipe them down with." You clamber off him.<br/>
<br/>
"Paige!" he calls, and his tone is very annoyed. But you're out the door and into the living room, where you snatch up your satchel and hurry back. "If we're going to do this," Jacob says, "we need to— I've got class in an hour."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, lots of time then," you say, and rummage through your satchel. From it you tug a faintly glowing mask. You press one hand onto Jacob's matted chest as you roll it onto his face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Did we really have to do that?" Paige says. She picks her panties off the floor and clucks over them without putting them on.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. It helps with the verisimilitude." You slide the belt through the last loop of the trousers and cinch it up.<br/>
<br/>
"Tch. You and those big words."<br/>
<br/>
You squint at her. <i>Impossible to see without your specs.</i> You grab up the white undershirt and pull it over your head. "Was it as good as you thought it'd be?" you ask. She grunts. "Too bad the real one won't get a chance to critique it himself."<br/>
<br/>
The "real" Jacob, of course, is under the mask of Paige, sleeping like a baby.<br/>
<br/>
You slip on his glasses. <i>Much better,</i> you think as you bend over to tie up the black tennis shoes. You stand, and pull on the musty sports jacket. The black trilby is the final touch, but you take it into the bathroom before putting it on. You—Jacob Darrow—like it to rest just so, and you twist your head about, studying and shifting it a millimeter at a time until you've got it right. You smooth down a tuft of chestnut hair running along your jawline, and with one finger settle the glasses more firmly onto your nose.<br/>
<br/>
Your nose. Your glasses. For the next twenty-four hours, at least.<br/>
<br/>
In the bedroom, you pull the blank mind strip from Paige's satchel and slip it into your jacket pocket. "Come on," you tell the girl roughly. Nailing Rob's girl was pretty sweet, but you've got business to conduct.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222222222212122111112121
author_id: seuzz
title: The Anarchist's Dinner
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Come on, Paige," you say, and haul the golem to its feet. "You've got to get out of here."<br/>
<br/>
"So it was just a quick one," she says sulkily. "Typical. What now?"<br/>
<br/>
You made your relationship to her clear twenty minutes ago, when you rolled her onto her front and spread her buttocks. <i>You've got to do what I say, Paige,</i> you'd told her. Only afterward did it occur to you that you'd have the memory of the other side of the fuck when you returned to her mask. <i>Oh well ...</i> "Go back to your flat," you tell her. "Entertain your boyfriend. Be normal. But don't tell anyone you came to see me. Don't deny it, but don't tell them. Oh, except for Professor Hyde-White. Call him and tell him you did a switch with Jacob."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that what you call it when you take a girl up the—?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I call that sweeping the back porch." You slap her bum. "Go on then." You push her out the door, and waste a few minutes checking your texts before following her. There's only one—a sequel to that missed call—from Trish asking what you want her to pick up for dinner. "Couscous," you text back.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's a small grocery shop halfway down the street from the flat, and you duck inside. As Jacob Darrow always does—<br/>
<br/>
As you always do—<br/>
<br/>
—when you come in here, you furtively eye the store for Hal Swann's secret accomplice. Is it the skinny stocker with the red face and bad acne? The girl with the nose piercing at the register? Couldn't be the fat manager, could it? Those are the three that Jacob has it narrowed down to, and you purse your lips grimly when you see that all three are absent today. That means the signal that you want to meet Hal might not get noticed.<br/>
<br/>
But you make your way to the fruits section anyway, and pick up a Braeburn apple. Half a dozen of its bin-mates slide to the floor, bouncing away.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit, why does this </i>always<i> happen?</i> You scramble to pick them up. One rolls under a cart on the other side of the aisle; you kneel to scoop it up, but it's vanished into a shadow behind one of the legs. <i>Screw it.</i><br/>
<br/>
"You oughta do a better job stacking the fruit," you tell the cashier as you pay her for the apple.<br/>
<br/>
"You oughta be more careful picking 'em up," she coolly replies as she gives you your change.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Bloody waste of time and money,</i> you growl to yourself when you get outside. You don't like apples, either you or Jacob Darrow, and you toss it in the trash.<br/>
<br/>
But only seconds later your phone chirps. "I can meet you at six," Swann says. "The Three Horseshoes." He hangs up without waiting for your reply.<br/>
<br/>
You stare at the screen of the phone, and the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. <i>Maybe Hal's lookout is watching on the grocer's CCTV?</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You arrive twenty minutes early, and watch the front door of the pub anxiously, but Hal still manages to sneak in, dropping into the chair across from you almost before you know he's there. "It's only been a week, old man," he says, and leans forward with a grin. "Has the girl got the goods already?"<br/>
<br/>
Your heart is thumping hard. It's not just your own nervousness; Jacob also feels unsettled by Hal Swann. He's not that prepossessing, actually. He looks to be in his late twenties, and dresses as what he says he is—a post-grad supporting himself by scraping together part-time jobs and tutoring in poly-sci, philosophy, and Russian. His tangle of dark, shoulder-length curls looks like it's been combed in a hurricane, and dark whiskers perpetually show in a face that has the pale greenish hue of overripe cheese. He's always fidgeting, usually with a cell phone or the zipper of his jacket.<br/>
<br/>
But his eyes are always bright; his talk is always quick; and the way he manages to elusively pop in and out of sight while always staying up to date on the local scene leaves Jacob deeply unnerved.<br/>
<br/>
Case in point: "Has the girl got the goods already?" Hal asks. "Or is she splitting up with her bedmate?"<br/>
<br/>
You blink. "What? What makes you think she's--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Stands to reason, don't it? They're a queer-looking couple of birds. Well, not singly they're not. Singly, they're the picture of conventionality. Has she been crying on your shoulder? Or Trish's?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not on Trish's, I don't think," you stammer.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm glad she's come to you." Swann signals the waiter. "Tofu with green curry," he calls. "What'll you have? Pick anything you like, you're paying for it. Mine too."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at him until you realize your jaw is hanging open. "I'm not—"<br/>
<br/>
"You're not? You like green curry?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"Then it's yours." He signals the waiter again. "Two pairs of chopsticks with that order, friend. So I can pick the odd grain of rice off your plate," he tells you.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'll pay for yours. I'm saying I don't—"<br/>
<br/>
"Two tofus with green curry! It's generous of you, lad, I'll remember you when I come into my kingdom. Well, come the revolution. So what's got you bothered?"<br/>
<br/>
"Paige—"<br/>
<br/>
"She's cute, and she would come to you." He jabs you in the shoulder in a fraternal way. "Already got two f'r y'self, what's wrong with a third, eh?" He winks.<br/>
<br/>
There's a roaring in your ears. "Have you been spying on me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't have to, not when you're giving it away at the slightest prompt. Except for what's really on your mind." His gaze is very knowing.<br/>
<br/>
"What's on my mind is— How do you know she's been arguing with her boyfriend, and that she came to me?"<br/>
<br/>
"You as much as told me. You just told me again with that very boring question."<br/>
<br/>
"But what made you <i>think</i> that—"<br/>
<br/>
"Look, lad, most people can see through a brick wall eventually if they stare at it hard enough," Swann says. "And if you yourself are the one that set things up behind that brick wall, you'd have to be thick, blind, and practically dead not to know what's on the other side. <br/>
<br/>
"So what I saw, based on what you've told me and what I spotted for myself," he continues, "was a girl who, whatever her other virtues, wasn't going to like being put on the spot even for a good cause, and who was going to sit up and look around when she found herself on said spot, and was going to notice that she's got a lot more in common with you than with her beau. Who—I mean her beau—is <i>exactly</i> the kind of bloke to revert to type eventually. So she's got into the bioengineering program, been a week now, hasn't it, and she's panicking because she promised to bring us all its secrets, and she's realizing that those secrets aren't going to drop into her lap of their own volition, so she's starting to seriously second-guess the job as well as those who've tasked her with it, and she's taking out her insecurities and frustrations on those who've piled them on her shoulders, especially the aforementioned bedmate who is consequently beginning to look a little out of place in her bed. Is that an adequate summary of the situation you want to discuss?"<br/>
<br/>
So quickly has he spoken that it takes you many long seconds to catch up to and review what he said. "Something like that," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Then it's simple." Swann smiles broadly. "Just tell Paige to study hard, get good grades, advance in the program, and forget about snooping."<br/>
<br/>
Now you do gape. "I thought we wanted her to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course we do! That's the whole reason we maneuvered her in! But we're playing the long game." He touches the side of his nose. "Infiltration. Paige is as yet only a pawn, and we've only just placed her on the board. She'll advance, but very slowly, step by step, step by step. But five, seven, ten years from now, she'll be a queen. That's what pawns become when they advance far enough."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do I tell her?"<br/>
<br/>
"What I just said, to study, get good grades, and advance in the program. Tell her that's all she has to do. That's all she <i>ought</i> to do, if she doesn't want to get caught at anything, and nobody wants that. By the time they realize she's not really one of them—which we can hope they never do realize—it'll be far too late."<br/>
<br/>
"So she's a sleeper." <br/>
<br/>
"Eh, if you wanna call it that." The waiter appears at your table and sets down two aromatic plates. Swann leans forward to breathe his in. "For the next ten years, you've got the most important job. To remind her what kind of horror she's working for, so that while she's pretending to be one of them, she doesn't actually become one."<br/>
<br/>
"Do you want to meet her," you ask. "You should be the one to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh good heavens, no!" Swann rears back. "I never know where I'll be from week to week. You and your mates have that honor. You especially, as her beau is not one to be trusted long-term. I rather suspect if you play it right you'll soon have her doing things for you that her ex-boyfriend-to-be never dreamed of asking her." He winks again.<br/>
<br/>
You turn the curry over and over with your spoon, and watch Swann from under your eyebrows as he slurps at his own meal.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White told you to be careful and to take your time about getting close to Hal Swann. You assumed this meant you could take a couple of days. Now you wonder if you shouldn't plan for longer—weeks or months. Maybe replace Winnie and Trish and Rob with golems? Whet Swann's appetite with leaks from Paige? Gradually win more of his confidence and trust?<br/>
<br/>
Be a long-term mole in <i>his</i> organization?</span></div></div>


path: 11123122212212212111112221111221121222222222222121221111121212
author_id: seuzz
title: Dinner Plans Go Awry
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You excuse yourself to the restroom, where you rub your face with cold water; droplets hang from your neatly trimmed beard without penetrating to the skin below. You adjust the trilby.<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White isn't going to stand for a lot of faffing about, and tonight—right now—is the best time to get that mind band onto Swann. That's the whole point of using a mind band, to get as much intelligence on Swann as quickly as possible.  You finger the metal strip in your pocket—<br/>
<br/>
—and step into the toilet stall. <i>If Swann is going to catch you, you don't want it to be while you're under Jacob's face.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The pants and t-shirt hang more loosely on Will Prescott's frame than they did on Jacob Darrow's, and the shoes are loose too. You trod carefully into the dining room. Swann is scarfing down mouthful after mouthful, like a starving dog. He raises his eyes and catches your approach, but you keep walking until you're in the next dining room. He couldn't have recognized you. Sure, you're still in Darrow's pants and shirt, but those are just dark trousers and a white tee; you left the jacket—wrapped about the mask, hat, and glasses—inside the restroom trash bin. Nothing in your appearance should set off alarms in Swann.<br/>
<br/>
You circle through the other dining room, past gently murmuring patrons. <i>Isn't this supposed to be a pub?</i> you find yourself irritably wondering. <i>Isn't it supposed to be serving dark, thick beers and fish and chips and inedible puddings? What's with the Thai food?</i> It's a silly thought, since Darrow's memories are still fairly fresh in your mind, and he knows quite well that many pubs—especially those around Cambridge—reject the clichés. Maybe you're just wishing it were darker in here. It would be easier to sneak up unobserved.<br/>
<br/>
And you're also wishing it wasn't a pub that Swann picked out. <i>Three Horseshoes,</i> Swann had said with a grin the first time he met Jacob here. <i>One's good luck for us, the second's bad luck to them, the third's wild luck to keep things int'restin' for all.</i> It may seem like neutral territory, but it feels like enemy territory to you.<br/>
<br/>
You come out another doorway, behind Swann. He's still bent over his meal. You fumble the mind band from your pocket and gently creep up behind him. Talk from nearby tables covers your approach. <i>Damn, what's it going to look like to everyone else when Swann flops face-first into his supper?</i> You'll just have to shield him as much as you can from everyone else.<br/>
<br/>
You're directly behind Swann now. Gingerly, you stretch an arm around the side of his head, with the mind band cradled in the palm of your hand.<br/>
<br/>
Swann raises his head fractionally, and you catch a movement out of the corner of your eye. You look up, and nearly jump from your skin: Directly opposite Swann is a mirror, and in it he is looking right at you.<br/>
<br/>
Except he seems to be focused on something behind you.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart hammers, but you strike, pressing the band through his flopping hair and onto his forehead. You catch him before he can fall forward, and pull him into a reclining position. His chin falls to his chest.<br/>
<br/>
You're trembling as you walk around the table and sit in your chair. Furtively, you look around, but no one seems to have noticed anything. You take a ragged breath at the narrowness of your success. If Swann had looked into that mirror only a few seconds earlier—<br/>
<br/>
His back is to the front door, you now realize. You turn to that mirror, and see the door clearly reflected. You look around, and realize that from this seat Swann could see this entire room as well as anyone who came in. Funny how he got such a prime seat when you were the one that picked the table.<br/>
<br/>
You fidget nervously. <i>God, it seems like the mind band never will come out of him.</i> You remind yourself that it's only been a minute since you got it onto him, and it can take as long as ten minutes to copy someone's brain.<br/>
<br/>
So you eat while watching Swann carefully. The waiter stops by the table to fill the water glasses. He gives you and Swann each a careful, sidelong look. "My friend's meditating," you say, and hope he doesn't hear the quaver in your voice. He says nothing, and you can guess his unspoken question: <i>What happened to the guy with the beard and stupid hat?</i><br/>
<br/>
Your nerves are aching with suppressed hysteria long before the band reappears with a glow and falls onto the top of Swann's belly. You pluck it up and beat a quick retreat to the bathroom. You retrieve the bundle of Jacob's things from the trash and again lock yourself in the stall.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Glasses, beard, and trilby are all back in place when you return to the dining room about five minutes later, and you've got a story prepared about a long and excruciating bowel moment to explain your absence. But Swann's chair is empty. You glance around: no sign of him. You take your seat and finish your meal. He never returns. You pay and leave.<br/>
<br/>
You're filled with disquiet, even though it's not the first time that Swann has disappeared on Darrow, and jump a little when your phone chirps with a text. But it's only from Trish, saying she's running late.<br/>
<br/>
You detour toward Paige's flat, but a sixth sense leads you to first stop at a stationary store, where you buy a large envelope. A wise choice: When you pause outside Paige's door, with your ear to it, you can hear raised voices. You hope it's only a normal row between Paige and Rob, and has nothing to do with her visit to Jacob. You put Swann's mind band into the envelope, write Paige's name on it, and lean it against the door. On the way back to Jacob's you text her: <i>I left an envelope outside your flat. Give it to HW. Come by Jacob's tomorrow at 3. --Your boss.</i> You hope the golem has the sense to obey your orders, even though you're not there to deliver them in person.<br/>
<br/>
To your surprise, Winnie is waiting for you inside your rooms. <i>Good old Winnie.</i> She may be plump and have a flat face and flat hair, but she's got pouty lips and deft hands. "So you've been out with your friends," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Met someone for a bite. Trish is going to kill me," you say as you close the door behind you.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, is Trish coming over then?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's bringing couscous home. But I ate while I was out."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll have your part then. I haven't seen Trish to talk to in a week."<br/>
<br/>
"Hnh." You stare at her a good long moment, then step in close and slide your tongue between her lips. <br/>
<br/>
She takes it in good sport and reaches around to grab your shoulders. You kiss and gnaw loudly at each other. "Oh, you're scratchy," she hisses, and rubs her muzzle against yours. You squeeze her ample hips, which despite their size are nicely firm to the touch.<br/>
<br/>
You're still in this embrace, though you've stopped the slurping and are just bumping noses, when the door opens and Trish comes in. "Oh, Winnie," she says, and brushes past toward the little kitchenette. "You joining us?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry, Trish, I ate while I was out," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"That was nice of you, Jacob," she says a little sourly.<br/>
<br/>
"Had to meet someone. I paid for his too."<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Very</i> nice of you," Trish says as she sets boxes of packaged food on the table.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll fix things," Winnie says. "I'll eat with you."<br/>
<br/>
"'S'alright," Trish says, and smiles brightly at her. "I've been monopolizing Jacob too much." She kisses her fingertips and presses them to your lips as she passes back out the door and into the night.<br/>
<br/>
"Guess I'm in the doghouse," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Forget it, she's right," Winnie says. "Been nearly a fortnight since you and me—Mmmm." She fondles your bum. "Sure you won't have something more?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, but you go ahead—"<br/>
<br/>
"Nope. I'll nibble on you."<br/>
<br/>
So you sit on the sofa and lightly snack on each other. After a bit, you talk: Winnie is full of minor news about the art installation she's working on with her friend Husna. Then you watch some TV. Around ten you go into the bedroom and take off your clothes. She sucks you off, and then you spend a good twenty minutes kissing and fondling her all over before slipping on a rubber and ploughing her deeply. You fall asleep with your face pressed into her hair.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I think it best if you came back in." Hyde-White's voice sounds crisply through the phone. "You've done all you can in your current situation."<br/>
<br/>
"Return to Paige, you mean?" you say. Paige—as naked as you—is laying in the bed by your side. She is stiff and sulky, and doesn't respond as you fondle her breast.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, and then we'll move you somewhere else."<br/>
<br/>
"Put me in for Swann?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, that's why we're moving you. You've probably blown your cover."<br/>
<br/>
You sit up sharply. "What? How? Anyway, if you put me in for Swann—"<br/>
<br/>
"That would be extremely dangerous. There is much more to Mr. Swann than we would have dared guess. You remember your friends Frank and Joe in Saratoga Falls, of course."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course."<br/>
<br/>
"Mr. Swann is one of their colleagues. He is the same type as them. Impersonation is out of the question."</span></div></div>


path: 111231222122122121111122211112211212222222222221212211111212121
author_id: seuzz
title: Retreat and Regroup
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You may of course review Mr. Swann's mental phenomena yourself," Professor Hyde-White says as he hands you a cup of tea. "After all, you could have reviewed it before passing it along to me." He sips from his own cup. "In fact, I would encourage you to review it, if that means you will accept my decision with a better grace." He purses his lips.<br/>
<br/>
You force yourself to relax: You're back in Paige Knotts's mask, and you'd dropped hard into her native personality when you made the switch in Jacob's bedroom, and left him blinking in confusion. (Ha! Just wait until he realizes that he's lost a full day; you left him under the impression it was the same day you'd come to visit, begging for a fuck.) "You're the boss, professor," you tell Hyde-White. "But I dealt with Frank and Joe in Saratoga Falls, and Hal Swann doesn't seem like he's nearly in their league."<br/>
<br/>
"Appearances can be deceptive, as you yourself well know," Hyde-White says. "You had a difficult time even finding Mr. Swann. He is extremely careful, almost paranoid. One might as well try to catch a Bandersnatch."<br/>
<br/>
"But we know everything about him now," you protest. "Where he lives, where he goes—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's more than that. You remember that the other two showed special talents, feats of strength and intelligence? Mr. Swann has special talents of his own, though they are difficult to describe. One might say that he is shielded by a veil of luck. It seems quite extraordinary that you were able to pierce it."<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White pauses, and shoots you a look whose meaning escapes you.<br/>
<br/>
"But we shouldn't trust to luck a second time," he continues. "There is also the fact that he is not alone in this country. He works closely with two very senior and very powerful members of his organization. It would not be you against one. It would be you against three, and you are far too valuable an asset to risk in such a game."<br/>
<br/>
"So what are we going to do about him?" Despite your bravado, Hyde-White's words have alarmed you. You're less worried about Hal Swann, in truth, than in accidentally falling afoul of Frank and Joe again.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing," says the professor. "Or very little. We now know who he is and what he is capable of. We shall be able to watch him, at least from a distance. We shall know what to expect. You have delivered quite a stroke against him just by revealing him to us." Hyde-White smiles at you. "Mr. Swann's presence and activities may explain why many of our locally based programs have had such a run of ill luck. We have therefore decided to relocate them." You're brought up smartly with his next words: "We'll be relocating them to your home town, as a matter of fact."<br/>
<br/>
"Saratoga Falls?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. We've a presence there, as you know.<br/>
<br/>
"Eric Kim?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who? Oh yes, Mr. Kim." Hyde-White sniffs. "No, not him. I believe we relocated him as well, as he had been compromised. But we've other projects that happen to be located in there. Of course, we've projects all over, but I thought we might relocate to Saratoga Falls specifically on account of you. You are one of the assets we want to move, and I thought you might welcome a return to familiar ground. You've hardly had enough time to begin to miss it, of course--"<br/>
<br/>
He stops, for he sees the way you're frowning. "Is something wrong, Mr. Prescott?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is it safe to go back there? I mean, Frank and Joe Durras are there."<br/>
<br/>
"As a matter of fact, they are not. Our agents in place have been discreetly watching them, and have reported that they withdrew from school and left town two days ago. As would be expected. They have what they came for. The <i>Libra Personae.</i>" His tone sours at the end.<br/>
<br/>
You ponder this. "So I'd go back to being myself?"<br/>
<br/>
Hyde-White hesitates. "Our agents have ascertained that there is already a ... <i>thing</i> in Saratoga Falls that looks and acts like you. Whether it is friendly to you we do not know."<br/>
<br/>
You cease to follow his words as you cast your mind back to Saratoga Falls. The last time you saw your own replacement was when that mask was sitting on Joe Durras, just before you pulled it off. Joe would have had that mask with him. So when would "Will Prescott" have returned? And how?<br/>
<br/>
You are suddenly aware of a silence. "Sorry, what?" you ask Hyde-White.<br/>
<br/>
"I beg your pardon," the professor says coolly. "Don't let me interrupt your thoughts."<br/>
<br/>
You apologize again. "I'm just trying to figure out how there could be a golem of me back home."<br/>
<br/>
"It is a puzzle," he says. "And that is precisely why you would <i>not</i> be returning as yourself."<br/>
<br/>
"So I'd be someone else? Paige, maybe?" You liked the feel of her about you.<br/>
<br/>
"No, we would craft a new identity for you. Someone who would attend the local university."<br/>
<br/>
"What would I be doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Studying." The professor temples his fingers. "Doing the sort of thing you were supposed to be doing as Paige Knotts before we discovered she was part of an espionage ring," he says dryly.<br/>
<br/>
"It was kind of fun doing that," you murmur with a grimace.<br/>
<br/>
The professor says nothing for a bit. "It will take us some weeks to finish the move," he says. "If you would like to do a similar job for us in the meantime, I know of something you can help with."<br/>
<br/>
Your heart starts to beat, whether from fear or excitement you can't say.<br/>
<br/>
"I will caution you, though," says the professor, "that you would be facing a familiar and formidable adversary. We have a local project, and we realize now that Hal Swann has been interfering with it. Your job would be to see that it comes off without his derailing it."</span></div></div>


path: 1112312221221221211111222111122112122222222222212122111112121211
author_id: seuzz
title: Return of the Native
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Oh, <i>do</i> straighten up, darling," your companion says. "I'll take a switch to your backside if you don't stop slouching."<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes, and straighten your back in a way that is even more insolent than the slouching had been. Only about ten percent of your loathing for Mrs. Lenke Varga is feigned; the rest is genuine and represents the true feelings of both Paige Knotts and Will Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
"Have <i>you</i> got a teenager?" Lenke asks the clerk as she hands over a credit card.<br/>
<br/>
"I've got a little girl." The clerk beams in a way that is slightly metallic as she slides the card through the reader and hands it back to Lenke. "She's only ten, and I hope and pray she'll be as sweet when she's sixteen as she is now."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, they never are," Lenke snaps. "Of course, this one's had a temper ever since she was two. And it only got worse after her father left us." The clerk's smile is very tight as she hands two old-fashioned brass keys to Lenke. "Now, which one is mine?" your companion asks.<br/>
<br/>
"It's your choice," says the clerk. "Both rooms are registered under your name. Welcome to the United States and Saratoga Falls, Mrs. Varga."<br/>
<br/>
Lenke only grunts, and beckons you to the ornate stairway leading up to the second floor of the Linley Inn, the quaintest (and most expensive) bed and breakfast in town. You sullenly follow.<br/>
<br/>
After sniffing at both rooms, Lenke takes the larger for herself and orders you to unpack in the second. You ignore her after she's gone, and only collapse onto the bed. <br/>
<br/>
You suppose this is going to be what it's like going forward. At least Professor Hyde-White was always polite, and he even seemed to treat you with a certain deference: always asking your opinion and trusting to your "intuition." But Lenke Varga has an entirely different attitude.<br/>
<br/>
It was a long flight from London back to the States, and though you got some sleep on the private jet that Fane provided you and Lenke, you are worn out and disoriented. Your body clock tells you it's nine o'clock at night; the alarm clock by the bed tells you it's four in the afternoon. The location also feels alien, which is doubly disorienting, for of course it's the town you were born and grew up in. But as you drove through from the private airfield, you were seeing it through Paige Knotts's eyes as well as your own, and you knew that you wouldn't be returning to it as yourself, but as someone that your friends and family would never recognize.<br/>
<br/>
It was bad enough when you first arrived in London, and realized you were going into exile. Now you're home again, but you've brought your exile along with you.<br/>
<br/>
The door opens and Lenke walks in. She stops just inside the doorway and puts her hands on her hips. "For God's sake, child, I told you to get unpacked. You have to get changed."<br/>
<br/>
"What for?" you retort. "So we're meeting the local people. They're not going to treat me any better in a different set of clothes."<br/>
<br/>
"I want you to look presentable."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" You twist your lips into a bitter smile, and play with the mane of hair that covers half your head. "You think I <i>could</i> look presentable?"<br/>
<br/>
Lenke turns red. "<i>More</i> presentable, then. Have you at least got a dress?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've got a skirt and some stockings. And some pumps," you add, feeling the mischief rising in you.<br/>
<br/>
"Then get into them. Have a wash first, though."<br/>
<br/>
"Can I have some privacy?"<br/>
<br/>
She checks her watch. "You've got thirty minutes, darling."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Where does she get off with this "darling" crap?</i> you wonder.<br/>
<br/>
After she leaves, you have a shower, soaping yourself all over and washing your hair. After almost two weeks in this body, the novelty of having a curvy female form has almost completely palled. But Paige herself still greatly enjoys the outfit you've chosen for the upcoming meeting, so after carefully drying yourself off—to accent the sense of anticipation—you are almost quivering as you pull out the items. <br/>
<br/>
You start with the panties and bra. They won't show, but you make them black anyway. You then pull on the fishnet stockings one by one, carefully tugging them into position, and checking them out in the mirror to make sure that they don't twist around funny. It takes a long time to get them right, but the effect will be worth it. You then don a sleeveless crimson top, popping the collar and unbuttoning down until your cleavage is fully exposed. You pull on dark, calf-high boots with high heels, and top it all off by wrapping your waist in a black leather miniskirt with a large silver buckle. <br/>
<br/>
You're just brushing your hair out when the door knob rattles. Lenke's muffled voice calls: "Are you ready yet? Open the door."<br/>
<br/>
"Almost done. Be out in two minutes," you call back.<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Now,</i> girl. I gave you an extra ten minutes, and we're needed downstairs."<br/>
<br/>
"Are we late?"<br/>
<br/>
"Practically." The knob rattles again. "Child, I will—"<br/>
<br/>
"I said in a minute! Wait downstairs, count to sixty, I'll be there before you're done."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, for the love of--!" You hear Lenke's heavy footsteps as she stalks off.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Good. If you're late, there's no chance she'll make you change clothes again.</i> Trying to keep the smug look off your face, you give yourself another once over, and go downstairs to join her.<br/>
<br/>
When she sees you, Lenke turns several different shades of purple and red. But the man with her smiles appreciatively. He's African-American, very dark, and he's very big—at least six and a half feet tall, with a massive torso. His hair is trimmed very close in a way that makes you think he must be military or ex-military. His smile looks warm but a little grave, and the light in his eyes isn't the light of lust, only of friendly interest. "Isaac Banks," he says, and puts out a large hand.<br/>
<br/>
Lenke's voice seethes with anger. "This is Paige Knotts, traveling—" She looks over her shoulder at the rest of the empty foyer. "Traveling as my daughter."<br/>
<br/>
"Paige, is it?" says Banks in a grumbling baritone. "From what I've heard, a second introduction might be needed eventually. Well, that can wait. Shall we go, ladies?" There's a slightly ironic emphasis on the last word.<br/>
<br/>
He leads the way, and Lenke falls in next to you. "I told you to dress presentably," she hisses.<br/>
<br/>
"I told you I had a skirt and stockings and pumps," you murmur back. "You said they sounded fine."<br/>
<br/>
"I said nothing about—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Paige, would you like to take the front with me?" Banks says.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks." You like the looks of the black Mercedes. "Are we going out to eat?" You rather hope so; you'd like to turn a few heads.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry, we'll be dining in," Banks says as he gently turns the motor over. "Given the nature of the conversation, it would be more prudent. But a meal will be provided."<br/>
<br/>
"I can't thank you enough for all your help, and the help of your division," Lenke says in a very oily way. <i>Suck up,</i> you think.<br/>
<br/>
"All part of the job." Banks passes a black ID case back to Lenke. "My credentials, which you should have asked for before getting in the car with me. So I can do my job properly, I've been fully briefed, and that means I've also been transferred to Diana. Technically, I'm only liaising with Spartacus."<br/>
<br/>
"But we're still getting support from Spartacus?" Lenke asks anxiously.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course. My colleagues don't even know about the transfer." He chuckles. "But that's what Diana is all about, isn't it? Pretending to be one thing while actually being another?"<br/>
<br/>
Your hopes rise. Maybe you'll be working with Banks more than with Lenke.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
To your surprise and dismay, Banks stops the car in front of King Kong Komics. Well, the building where it used to be. The sign is gone, and all the posters have been torn from the windows. Inside, you find the space has been completely gutted and refurbished into a tasteful modern office suite. "This is where you'll headquarter," Banks says. "We're setting it up as an insurance office. At least, I was told that you would be most comfortable with something in the financial line," he says to Lenke.<br/>
<br/>
She nods, but looks uneasy. "Wouldn't we be more secure at Fort Suffolk?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," Banks says. "Titan is headquartered there, and I've been told Diana's presence is of no concern to them. They aren't even to know about us."<br/>
<br/>
"But they know that you're working with us, at least. Liaising with us," Lenke says.<br/>
<br/>
"No, they think this is a Spartacus office, and that I'm still working for Spartacus," Banks says. "They think this building is just an annex for us to work out of. "<br/>
<br/>
All of this goes over your head, but you've got worries of your own. "This used to be a comic book shop," you say. "It belonged to Eric Kim. You probably didn't know him, but he worked for Fane—"<br/>
<br/>
"I knew Eric," Banks says. He smiles. "He scored me a very hard-to-find copy of Captain Science last year."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Small world.</i> "Well, my point is, Eric had to leave because his cover had been blown," you say. "So is it safe to work here, if the bad guys know it used to be a front for Fane?"<br/>
<br/>
"The title was transferred to a non-Fane corporation," Banks says. "And the insurance brokerage we'll put in won't have any apparent connection to Fane either. We'll look innocent enough."</span></div></div>


