

# SCI-FI à la Mode

### Short stories by

### by Pj Belanger

## Cover Art By Belamesa

### SCI-FI à la Mode

### Short Stories by

### Pj Belanger

BRP Publishing

All rights reserved. This book is protected by the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproductions or authorized use of the material or artwork contained here in is prohibited without the express written permission of BRP Publishing.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 by BRP Publishing

ISBN 0-9826481-3-8

All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

I would like to dedicate this short story book

to my father William Ketchin

A Reader like me. Thank you

# Table of Contents

Introduction

BORDELLO

GOOD DAY PEOPLE

REVENGE

PLANET FOR SALE

UNIVERSE UNIVERSITY

WEBBERS

THE SUMMONS

BRAIN VIRUS

THE PRINCE'S UNDOING

Thank You!

Also by Pj Belanger:

# Introduction

When I was in third grade, my parents were told that the school wanted to keep me back. I couldn't read. Alarmed, my father asked me to read "just twenty minutes". Those twenty minutes turned into hours as he fed me books, mostly Science Fiction, than later Fantasy. I was hooked and have been ever since. He had a collection of all the old works from the "Golden Era". As a kid I read Asimov, Heinlein, Bloch, Howard, Clark, Leiber, Vance, Anderson, Lovecraft, Bradbury, Wollheim, Hebert. Oh, so many it is impossible to list them all. I read every Jose Farmer book I could get my hands on. I wondered at Conan's world with Howard's command of the language. I found fascinating the old paperbacks that contained two stories. Read one story, turn the book backwards and start another story. The price on the covers was only 25 cents. My father would tell me how he'd save up his allowance as a kid to afford them. In his teens he would wait anxiously for Amazing Stories magazine to come out at the town drug store. I remember his excitement over "The Hobbit" followed by the Ring Trilogy. "You have to read these!" His enthusiasm rubbed off on me. I soon was reading beyond my third grade level, the threat of staying back forever gone. The joy of reading, a lifetime gift. I will be forever grateful to him. I miss the long discussions we had over every plot. Arguing over the possibilities that Sci Fi could peek into the future. What was real, what could happen was a favorite topic. We read for pleasure and I write for pleasure. The old science fiction masters were never simple but they were always entertaining. It is for this reason that I put together this collection of short stories- plain simple enjoyment. If they make you think, fine, but if they take you away for just a while, my goal has been accomplished. Again, thanks Dad.

Pj Belanger.

# BORDELLO

Pj Belanger

_A Chief Detective Skip Brown Adventure_

My upset stomach churned in agony, reacting to the overwhelming sickening sweet smell of booze, drugs and sex. My digestive system had not returned to normal, it always acts up when I make a long Jump. I never handle spatial travel easily. Of course, that it was my own stupidity that caused me to be in this hell hole, didn't make it any easier to take. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the details of the bar room, but the lighting was dim, purposely shrouding. Prostitution may be legitimate on this planet, but the clients still preferred anonymity. The opaque atmosphere also veiled the less attractive hookers and helped disguise the physical ravages of age and drug abuse.

As I sipped my beer, the endless show of provocatively clad bodies paraded about on stage. A circus atmosphere, directed by a man dressed in a ring master's outfit. "Take your pick, Ladies and Gents. We have before you exotic creatures from all over the Universe. Anyway you want it! Try the excitement of Octapuss from the Magellan Star System. Her five arms will keep you tantalized for hours." The Octa stuck out her long black tongue, seductively using it to excite the crowd.

I waited, nursing my drink. She had to be here somewhere. My eyes kept drifting to the stage, how far would she go for revenge? I let my thoughts drift back..........only two days ago..........

I was sitting at my desk, my shirt was soaking wet with sweat despite the old electric fan that I had pointed straight at me. Using the most vile language I could think of, I cursed the maintenance crew for the faulty air conditioning and then had a few similar words for the terrible torrid weather that graced Fulton Station. So, I cannot be blamed that my mind was clouded the day that Lieutenant Hill stood at my office door, blocking what little breeze that the opening offered.

At first I didn't even notice her, so taken was I with my own misery. "Ahem," clearing her throat, she caught my attention. I looked up, to see her fidgeting with her tie, straightening her badge and shuffling her newly polished black footwear. She was strictly a standard fare regulation detective. Everything about her screamed rookie!

"What, Hill?" I grumbled. It annoyed the hell out of me that she didn't have the rumpled, sweaty look that all the rest of us had. "What!" I snapped, the heat getting the better of my patience.

"I'd like to volunteer to work on the Hopstead Murder." Her eyes kept scanning my rather disheveled office. Disapproval was written all over her face.

"No." I growled, returning to finish the load of paperwork that was scattered all over my desk, along with a half empty cup of coffee that I was now drinking cold and my hardly touched sandwich that was stale from sitting open since noon. I was annoyed. Annoyed at the oppressive heat, annoyed that my computer was down, annoyed that my work load was triple what I had the manpower to handle. No wonder I wasn't thinking straight that day. Again I heard the clearing of a throat. Looking up, she was still blocking my air. "I SAID No!"

"I've been trained just for this type of assignment, I was first in my class at the academy and I've been working homicide for over a year." Her voice was shaking, almost as if she was fighting an inner turmoil.

I was surprised at her daring to come directly to me. I'm well known for my fiery temper. Usually Lieutenants work through Captains, I prefer it that way. I hadn't said maybe two words to her since she'd come on board. To be honest, she rather irritated the hell out of me. She'd come straight out of the Academy into Sector homicide bypassing the local systems. A "bright" shining star my superiors had told me. In reality, the budget couldn't take on another experienced police officer and it was their way of placating me. I knew, they knew, but obviously she didn't!

"Lieutenant Hill," I would have called her by her first name but I couldn't recall what it was, "perhaps you haven't worked long enough in this sector to realize the Hopstead murder happened over on Skantie Row- it's a hell hole city on a hell hole of a planet." I took a deep breath, it wasn't her fault the room was 102 degrees with the humidity past drenching. "I've lost two detectives there, and one that's in the rehab hospital hooked on Supfline."

"I'm aware of..."

I cut her off sharply, "Let me finish! These weren't rookie detectives- they were pros. Skantie is under mob control and the murder involves the Blithie Family. They are the most ruthless of the families and the most powerful. I've been trying to shut them down since I took over this job six years ago. I'm only thankful it's on the outskirts of my sector, as a matter of fact it's the furthest planet out." It irritated me having to explain my thorn-in-my-side to a rookie detective.

"I'm aware of where it is, Sir, I still..."

"Lieutenant, perhaps after a few more years you'll be ready." A few more years, I thought, and she'd know better than to volunteer for a Skantie murder. "It's really way over your head. The local police are handling it the best they can."

"The local police are all tied in with the mob," she countered. "I know all about Skantie, its dope dealings and gambling operations, not to mention its infamous Bordellos." She sounded angry and to my surprise much more assertive, as if I'd hit a raw nerve. If I hadn't been so tired and hot, perhaps I would have noticed... we'll that's water over the dam, besides her next comment brought me up short. "I don't think you have a choice, Sir. Everyone is busy, you have no one else." She stood with her hands on her hips. "This time they killed a society girl and the family is screaming, they've been in contact with the Provincial Sector Governor. You're going to have to send someone and soon! I'm available and I'm volunteering!"

"The woman killed was stupidly irresponsible." I found myself trying to rationalize with Hill, realizing her rookie enthusiasm was blinding her thinking. "The family knew she was turning tricks. Then she became really desperate when her father cut her off financially. She needed his money to keep up her Supfline addition."

"There's more to it," Hill countered.

"I'm aware there is more to it!" I wiped my brow with my shirt sleeve, noticing her wince at my uncouth gesture. I guess at the Academy they taught uniform cleanliness at all times. Let her work in homicide for ten years and see what uncouth mannerisms she'll obtain, never mind aging twice your years. I calmed myself, pulling the fan closer. "I'm... We're very well aware that the Bordellos get the girls hooked on Supfline then use them until they overdose or become so doped they throw them out. This girl was no exception."

"This girl was an exception! She used to be Chuck Blithie's girlfriend." The force of her reply was unnerving, making me feel guilty for not caring more. I had to remind myself that rookies were unnerved by senseless murder, give her a few more years.

"We don't know that for sure, I argued, but Hill, so caught up with her cause, didn't even hear me.

"Her mother thinks she had something on him and his family! The girl may have left something behind that may incriminate them." I shook my head, but she'd already crossed to my desk, brazenly pushing several letters in front of my face, her strawberry highlighted hair falling across her violet eyes. "She kept in touch with her mother, sporadically sending E-letters. The mother tells me that at first Merline was ecstatic with her rich playboy boyfriend. I gather the girl was rather wild. In some of the letters she's depressed, others are euphoric and all border on paranoia. She was certainly an addict. These printouts progressively show disillusionment with Chuck Blithie and in the end she feared him."

"Where'd you get these?" I asked, knowing them not to be in the file case I had looked at only yesterday.

"I got her mother to talk to me this morning. I went when the father was off planet." She straightened, waiting for my reaction. When I gave none, she once again bent over pointing to the letters. "Look at the last one."

As I read, I realized what the lieutenant was so excited about, as my eyes cast over the last printout dated the week the girl had been killed. "I'll be home soon. I need help. I'm burnt. I finally got enough that he can't touch me, if he tries to stop me I'll expose his whole family's operation. Thanks Mom for the puppy, we're coming home together."

"I want to follow up on this. I deserve to and you have no one else who can!" Her voice was strongly determined."

I knew she was right; it would be weeks before anyone was free enough to go to Skantie. "All right, just go and keep a low profile, an extremely low profile until I can send someone to help you. Understand? Just look around." She nodded. "A warning, it's a long transfer journey. Make sure you bring some disorient pills. If you make the jump to Skantie in one hop, you'll be sick for a couple of days. Ever travel that far all at once?"

"No, I always take a couple of days, but I'll be all right."

Man, did the girl have a lot to learn. I couldn't, however, see the harm of her doing a preliminary scouting. After all, thousands visited the gambling casinos every day. If she kept to looking like a tourist, she'd be fine. Little did I realize how wrong I was.

It wasn't until a couple of days later that I truly learned what a mistake I had inadvertently made. This time it was Captain Issam that blocked the doorway, he was just returning from an investigation in the Astic Section, a double murder involving a prominent politician. He looked all done in from the heat, the sweat was pouring off him.

"How did it go?" I asked, rifling through the remaining forms that I hadn't gotten through the day before.

"It was what we suspected, boyfriend-husband rivalry. I'm bushed, think I'll head home early, cooler at my house, my air-conditioning is working!"

"Hell would be cooler than this," I told him as he got up to leave. "Oh, by the way, I sent what's her name, ah... Hill, to do the prelims on the Hopstead Murder."

He turned back, a strange expression on his face. "I'm surprised, thought you had a thing about detectives being involved personally, her sister died there."

"What!"

"Yeah, overdosed. Black sheep of the family, guess every family has one."

"I never would have let her go. I... Who was her sister involved with?"

"The Blithie's of course," he shrugged, "most of the overdoses concern them."

"I gotta go after her." I slammed my fist on the desk in frustration. I couldn't believe that a rookie had conned me!

"Is that wise Chief? You're well known by all the mob families. They'd like nothing better than to see you dead. Let me go."

"No, I was stupid enough to let her go against my better judgment. I'll go get her out of there, hopefully before she's gone and got herself killed."

I hurried, got myself packed, and on a shuttle before the afternoon was done. I had to transfer on Mothan's Moon where I caught the Transmit to Skantie. Of course, despite the disorient pills, I immediate threw up and felt like hell. My head pounded. My feet were unsteady as I disembarked at the sky port, and headed for the nearest bathroom. I never did take the Jumps well.

Skantie City, being the only habitable land mass on this hellish planet, catered to the tourist traffic with gambling and prostitution. The city's overflowing coffers were a sign of their success. All the big hotels were booked and I had to take a room at one of the cheap hotels on the outskirts of the City. I took a ClarAll hair dye pill, turning my hair gray, making me look much older. A little makeup under the eyes and around the mouth put the finishing touches on the effect. I felt relatively safe that no one would notice me as long as they didn't look too close. No one was expecting the Chief of Sector Homicide to be undercover, looking for a god damn rookie!

My next problem was finding Hill. She'd had a couple of days head start on me. I wasn't surprised when I found out that she hadn't left any information with the recording clerk at our station. It wasn't necessary for a prelim investigation, something I made a mental note to change- damn the woman!

Still feeling like hell, I put on a rather baggy suit with a somewhat dull striped yellow shirt. A wide brim hat and cigar finished the down and out gambling look. I would have preferred to wait until evening when I could get lost in the huge crowds, but I didn't have that luxury.

I headed toward the main strip which was rather quiet. Night time would find it blazing with lights and glitter. Right now there was a subtle hush, almost like the city was taking a big morning breathe before all the action began. The large main street which at peak time would be filled with horrific traffic, both foot and hover crafts, now held only a few stragglers. Lining both sides were the big casinos, all offering various attractions to entice visitors into spending their money. The next street held the big fancy hotels, I gave them only a slight glance as I headed two more blocks down to where the renowned intergalactic Bordellos were housed. Gamblers do not have to go far to either spend their winnings or wallow in their losses. The six Bordellos offered a wide variety of hookers from all over the known universe and were within walking distance of the casinos yet could easily go unnoticed by the unapproving.

The street was just about deserted; late nights brought late sleep-ins. One side was the towering richly colored Bordello saloons, each sported huge display windows which in a few hours would be dressed with barely clad enticing prostitutes beckoning seductively to the clientele. Hominal planet systems populated most of this part of the Crab Nebula, thus Skantie tended to cater to the human population.

Across the street were high class restaurants and bars all wanting the spill over business of the Bordellos, leeches sucking blood from a host. Despite the early hours, one small store was open, where a few customers were going in and out, most carrying newspapers or bags, some with steaming cups of java. It was here that I went.

It looked worse inside than out. Dark, dingy walls gave it a depressing mood while small crumb covered tables displaying discolored nudie tablecloths only added to the gloom. The back of the Cafe had a long counter. Newspapers, doughnuts and java- take your pick. My stomach was still doing flip-flops, my eyes felt like they were going to come right out of my head so I passed by the stale looking doughnuts, heading straight for a cup of java. I must have looked like I felt, for the cashier shoved a full hot mug at me and stepped back as if she'd get some disease if I came too close. "Thanks," I mumbled as I paid for my java and newspaper.

Taking a seat by the window, I scanned the paper, nothing of true interest. A new casino was going up and elections were taking place in a week. The headline name caught my eye, "Mayor Doug Blithie expecting to win easily." Well, well the murdered girl played for high stakes and paid the ultimate price I reflected. I sipped my coffee watching the street, but there was no action, too early. Now where is she? I didn't know which Bordello was Blithie's. The names were all rather raunchy, "Slip in and Out", "The Rod and Whip" all hinting at the services provided.

"Want another cup?" A waitress had evidently come in for her shift and was walking around with a pot.

"Sure."

"Twenty kisoes." She held out her hand. I paid her double, getting a surprised look.

"Which is Blithies?" I asked nodding toward the street, holding a ten spot in my hand.

She smiled, the wrinkles on her face showing the hard times of a former trick player, no longer pretty enough to hire. "Any particular reason you want to know that?"

I started putting my money back in my pocket. She answered quickly, "It's the Anything Goes." Holding her hand out for the ten, but I wanted more for my money. "Where can I get a cheap Supfline fix, I hear Blithie's has the best?"

"Thought you looked like hell, on a down?" She whispered, coming close. I could smell the sweet odor of the drug, it permeated out of her skin, not only a former hooker, but an addict, which most were. "I can fix ya up and show ya a good time."

The smell almost brought up my java, thankful now that I hadn't eaten anything. "No thanks." I handed her the ten, getting up and away as fast as I could. Skantie was a hell hole.

The morning was beginning to wane and the businesses were beginning to open. I walked down to the Anything Goes. A huge specimen of muscled man was standing half naked on the steps leading up to the entrance. "What the hell you lookin at?" He yelled down at me, "ain't open until one, scram I don't do nothin until then."

Nothing would have given me more pleasure than to beat the shit out of him, most of the big boys were pansy asses anyway. "I tend to go for women, especially pretty strawberry blondes." I fingered a twenty, letting it fall to the steps. The big bozo slowly walked down to pick it up. I held up another twenty, it made a smile suddenly come to his plump pink face. "Know anyone who would fit the bill? I want a fresh one, sick of the old trash."

"Human?" He asked, his eyes not leaving my hand holding the bill.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Boss got a new one in the other day. Minica is her name, comes on at the seven o'clock auction, you can bid for her then, better bring plenty of dough. I hear she's worth it, if it's women that please you..." he winked, giving me the shivers, making my java want to come up again. My mind went to Hill. I winced. I'd been right. Damn her.... So I'd come back at seven and here I was waiting for the auction to start, wondering when I'd see her. Madder than hell, sicker than a dog from the jump and the sweet dope smell wasn't helping any either. From the back of the room I had a good view of the entire lounge that took up most of the bottom floor of the Anything Goes Bordello. A necessary prelude to going upstairs- booze em up, give em a sniff and send them up happy.

A crowded bar lined the entire side wall with scantily clad bartenders dispensing drinks. On the floor, every kind of waitress walked between the customers, serving drinks, walking advertisements of what was available. One snake woman from Kissen slithered right in front of me, her tail crawling up my leg, invitingly tantalizing. I shook my head, "human." She went on to someone else. There was plenty to pick from, richly dressed to poorly attired men and women stood crowded together in a conglomerate of sexual desires and preferences that ran the gamut. Sexual desires came to all equally and as long as you had the cost of the trick, it mattered not who you were or where the money came from.

A drum roll brought my attention back to the stage... "and ladies and gentlemen, whatever you favor, none can beat our newest addition, the exciting Minica! I leaned forward trying to get a better look, as the stunningly beautiful strawberry blonde strutted onto the stage. She was indeed gorgeous, her large breasts swaying as she walked. But she wasn't Lieutenant Hill! I wasn't sure whether the relief I felt over it not being Hill was more than the anger I felt at still not being able to find her. My mind switched as I caught a glimpse of Mike Blithie, the youngest of the sons, was up at the bar. I knew him from the many video clips I'd viewed over the years. I wandered over, hoping to get closer to him. I'd never met him, though I'd had quite a few run-ins with the other members of his family. I'd heard he was the stupidest and the most pampered by his father.

I slowly edged my way over, looking as if I was getting a beer. He was obnoxiously high. "Come on baby, you'd bring a lot of money in, know who I am?"

He was flirting with one of the many scantily dressed bartenders, his hand resting lightly on her wrist. This one was a dark haired beauty, dressed all in black leather and gold. She had long legs accentuated by tall black boots, a small well-rounded butt, firm nicely shaped gold ringed tasseled breasts. I could well understand his interest. "Beer" I yelled at her. He turned, anger written all over his face at being interrupted.

"Excuse me darling." She purred at him. "Gotta do what ya pay me to do." She grabbed a bottle, opening it swiftly, and slid it down to me. Our eyes met and instant recognition came to both of us as I realized I had found Hill. "Want a glass?" she said, but not with the same assuredness that she'd had before.

"No." I quickly answered, grabbing the bottle and turning my back to her, so as to hide any surprise that might show and give her a chance to recover, which I heard her quickly do as her attention once again focused on Mike Blithie.

"Hey darlin, you're not one of the Blithie's are you?" She purred again at the attentive man.

"Yeh, I am. Never saw you here before? Are you hookin? What's your name?"

"Susie's the name, and no, I'm just bartending for now." She answered. "Gotta get my feet wet slowly."

"How about letting me wet em for you?" His voice made me sick. He sounded so damn sure of himself, so goddamn cocky.

"Beer." I yelled, not being able to help myself from distracting him from her.

"Hey, go get one at the other end of the bar. She's busy old man." Face red with fury, he screamed at me, "She can't waste her time on an old pecker that can't get it up anyway."

"At least mine's big enough to see." I said to him.

"Why you smart ass," he hissed, reaching over to me with his hand, grabbing my coat by the lapel. It took two seconds to break his wrist then I walked quickly away. I heard him screaming for help as I walked out the door.

I returned to the casino near closing time, dressed in a formal tuxedo as if I'd just been to one of the high class casinos. Anyone would have taken me for a high roller who was slightly drunk and who'd probably lost quite a bit, looking for a little action to take my mind off it. I waited until Hill finished her shift. "Hey, can I buy you a drink?" I slurred my words at her as she lifted part of the bar to let herself out.

"No, I'm off. Sorry, tired." She didn't even look at me. I touched her arm making her look at me.

She looked annoyingly up, but quickly changed her tone. "Yeah, sure. Where would you like to go?" We left the bordello. "Where to?" she asked.

"My place, but first change out of those goddamn clothes." I told her. Her closeness bothered me, dressed like that, damn, the woman was stunningly desirable. Hell, I certainly had never noticed her back at the station. So, we went to her place first, I waited outside watching to see if anyone was following her. I saw no one. She came out wearing jeans and a tight tee shirt with no bra. Her ear lobes held long floating light pulsing earrings. She knew how to blend in perfectly, I reluctantly had to give her that much credit.

Back at my low class hotel, I forgot the earlier attraction as I lambasted her over hood- winking me. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Police work. I'm paid to do it," she snapped back, pacing the floor in anger. "Why did you come? Afraid I can't handle myself, too much of a rookie?"

"Goddam right," this time completely losing my temper, " I found out your sister died here less than a year ago. You're being stupid Hill, sector detectives don't go on personal vendettas- or didn't the academy teach you anything?"

"It has nothing to do with personal, I'm the best for the job and I was doing fine! That was a real smart move breaking Blithie's wrist. Is that how you were told to keep a low profile? Is that what they taught at the Academy when you went?" She was trying to divert the real issue, playing on my temper. It worked.

"It's lucky I did, you don't want to play with him."

"I'm a homicide detective! I want to play with anyone who can help me find out about Merline!" Her voice became angry, her eyes glared at me, defying me to say something. She knew I would expect the same behavior from all my detectives, danger was part of the job.

"You're coming back with me, tonight. That's an order!" I firmly told her.

"Come on, Chief, I've already made contact with a friend of Merline's. "I'm going over to her Bordello apartment tonight."

"How'd you manage that?"

"I did it through my sister's former roommate. Whores are a close knit group, whether you be high class or low. They all have to work through the Bordello system." Before I could ask the obvious question, she answered, "I use to come here trying to get my sister to quit. I know the territory. At least give me a chance. It may be the only chance to get them, you want them as bad as I do!"

Damn the woman, she knew which buttons to push. It was going against every instinct I had, but I wanted the Blithie family, I'd lost a lot of detectives to them. They were the scum of the earth and they ran a tight ship, it was hard to believe that they'd let something slip through their fingers. Yet, if there was a chance did I want to miss it? I didn't. My gut hurt from thinking about it.

She'd been watching me, damn it, the woman had me and she knew it! "Cute outfit tonight," I sarcastically remarked, "get that at the academy?" It broke the ice, for she laughed, taking my capitulation with an easy grace.

"It may be appealing, but it's uncomfortable as hell." She mused. "Care to come with me tonight?"

"Yeah, someone's gotta look after you." I said, getting a raised eyebrow from her.

Unlike the morning, the city was alive with flashing lights and ringing bells. At least I was feeling better, the effects of the Jump were finally wearing off. I had changed into a fashionable suit, changing my hair to red and adding a mustache. We headed back to the rear of the Blithie's Bordello, here were expensive apartments with a fancy circular stairway leading to a grand second level entrance. Women were being let out of limocruisers wearing high heels and enough jewels to cover my department's budget for several years- high priced whores. These were the prostitutes that had made it out of the front Bordello to be taken care of as Mistresses and Gigolos. Merline's friend had one in the far back, not one of the real expensive ones, but nice enough. A maid opened the door with an expensive white rare Chilian Chow puppy snapping at her heels. The furniture was expensive, but on close inspection it was worn in places, business hadn't been good lately.

Mary, herself, turned out to be a rather flamboyant flirt that went after anything wearing pants. Her cheap perfume and loud outfits almost brought back my Jump sickness, however, I hid it well, letting her slide next to me, putting her hand on my upper leg teasingly. Hill, as if instinctively knowing that I'd have an easier time with Mary, let me lead the conversation.

I noticed the wrinkles on the hand and around the mouth, Mary would not be long on the main strip, one could not cheat age forever, if this woman ever had any appeal at all. I suppose some men went for her kind. "So how is it going?" I asked innocently.

"Between jobs right now. How'd ya meet Susie's sister? I just loved her sister. Are you an off world pimp? Better not let them catch you, they don't like their help to leave."

"You looking for a job away from here?" I asked giving her a pinch, wincing innerly as I did.

"We'll, I could use a few tricks. This damn Bordello is getting pretty fussy. I'd really hate to go back to the stage." She tossed her over starched hair, giving me another whiff of her overpowering perfume. "Use to work directly for Blithie's themselves."

"Did you now?" I teased. "Which one caught your fancy?"

She laughed, "None to tell you the truth, they're mean son of a bitches. Beat all their women."

"You don't say!" I sounded astounded. "Although I did hear somewhere that Doug is pretty harsh... killed his last girlfriend, so they say?"

"She was a good friend of mine." Mary leaned closer, her hand reaching behind squeezing the back of my butt, "I can tell you he did a number on her, but she was feisty, give her that! See this coat, it's her's. Real generous, she was."

I bet she was real generous. My guess was that Mary had helped herself to Merline's clothes and her dog after she was found dead. "Did Merline ever tell you she was afraid of Doug?"

"Everyone's afraid of any Blithie. She was stupid to ever get involved with him. Merline gambled too much, drank too much. She thought that with her family connections she was safe. No one's safe from them. When a woman catches the fancy of any of them boys, she'd best stay until they tire of her."

"Rumor has it, she was on Supfline." I made it sound like I didn't believe it.

"Everyone's on Supfline" Mary slid her fingers up past my knee, squeezing roughly. "Don't tell me you don't get your girls high? It makes the sex drive fly." She laughed as if remembering her own exploits.

Hill saved me from answering, interrupting the conversation, "Now Mary, don't go stealing my man from me." She sat on the other side of me, leaning into my shoulder. "Like Merline, you got plenty yourself."

"Wish I did." Mary frowned, making her look like an even older whore. "At least I had the sense to put some money away. Maybe I'll go off planet, can't keep going on much longer. It's just I can't do much of anything else."

"Merline was thinking of going home," Hill said innocently. "I heard that somewhere."

"He'd never let her go. Merline thought she was safe. Wouldn't listen to me." Mary shook her head. "Kept telling me, she'd get him. Found her in the cellar of a laundry place. Wasn't a pretty sight I hear."

No, I knew from the reports that it hadn't been a pretty sight. Whoever killed her had done it with a vengeance. "Did she leave anything behind?"

"Girl didn't have nothing to leave, she was flat broke, Blithie boys saw to that. Amused themselves by turning her into a cheap whore, making her work the Stage." Mary's face scrunched in disgust. "Then Merline's father found out and completely cut her off. That's her dog. Come here Whipper."

The dog, as if on cue, came bouncing up into her lap. "Cute," I ventured, not really meaning it. Snappy little dogs always got on my nerves, but then so did rookie cops.

It was the scream of the maid that was the first sign we were in trouble. Two goons carrying zappers, dragging the maid by the hair came rushing into the room, followed by the Blithies, Mike and Doug. "Visitors, Mary?" Doug came over, pulling her up off the couch by the wrist.

"They're just friends," Mary whimpered, "honest Doug, I knew her sister."

"You dumb whore." Doug slapped her hard. "She's a cop. We've been watching her since she got here."

"I almost had her." Mike, his hand wrapped in a cast, danced around next to his brother. "I'd have gotten her back at the bar, but some asshole guy broke my wrist."

"Shut up Mike, when I want you to talk, I'll tell you." Doug glared at his brother then turned his attention back to the aging whore. "How many times I gotta tell ya, Mary, not to talk to strangers? You screw em, not talk to em." Doug pulled hard on her wrist, making the prostitute fall to her knees, whimpering.

I felt my face go red with anger. One of the henchmen, noticing, pointed his zap gun directly at me, "Don't try nothin man."

"Now who do we have here? Another cop?" Doug's attention was now drawn to me, it took him all of a few seconds to realize exactly who I was. "Damn. What the hell are you doin here?"

I thought perhaps bluffing just might be in order. "You're interfering with a murder investigation. You're all under arrest!"

It took him off guard, but only for a few moments. Unlike his brother he was no dummy. "What the hell!" He laughed, "If it isn't Mr. Brown, the Chief of Sector Homicide, how convenient. What a pleasant surprise Chief." The older Blithie brought out a syringe, smiling at me as he reached for my arm. "Help me hold him, one shot." Then he stopped, looking coyly at Hill. "Or maybe I ought to do the pretty lady cop first. Maybe you'd like to see her go first, huh, Chief? It's too bad, she'd be perfect for the stage."

He grabbed Hill by her hair, twisting it until she fell to her knees. She tried to grab his leg, but missed. "Help me hold her Mike. She's a fiery little devil, just like Merline."

"You son of a bitch," I yelled as the needle headed toward her arm.

Mike Blithie looked up, as if recognizing my voice for the first time. "Hey, he's the guy that broke my wrist." The younger brother whined, letting go of Hill to cross over to me. "Why you bastard." Coming over he slugged me across the head with the damn cast. Dazed I stumbled.

"Careful you fool!" Doug exploded. "I don't want any marks on him! When they find him, he'll be overdosed, naked next to his dead girlfriend."

"Don't call me a fool!" Mike again whined. "Dad is still mad at you for letting that girl get into the files."

"Shut up!" Doug swung, slapping his brother across the mouth.

It took the two body guards attention off us, giving Hill the opportunity she'd been looking for. Throwing herself against Mike, the younger brother rammed into the older. The two dumb bruisers pointing their guns couldn't fire, as she was tangled within the two brothers. "Shoot her, you fools," one of the Blithie's yelled. The stupid fools did, hitting Mike Blithie. Realizing what they'd done, they stood gaping, unsure of what to do next. I jumped the nearest one to me, bringing my leg up into his groin, he went down fast.

The other weapon, however, was now pointed directly at me. I waited for the shot, but it never came as I watched the holder get a blank look on his face and fall directly into me. Hill had shot him. As the other one was getting ready to shoot, she finished him too. She now focused her gun on the Doug Blithie, who was stumbling to his feet. His brother, Mike, lay dead on the floor, half his face had been shot off by the goon's shot.

"Thank god. Where'd you get that?" I said to her, looking at the small zapper she held in her hand.

"In my boot. Standard Academy equipment," she half smiled. She looked at Doug Blithie, hatred filling her purple eyes. I knew the look, revenge was right in her hand.

"Give me the gun, Hill," I calmly told her. She looked at me, pleading. "I know, he was responsible for your sister's death, but don't ruin what you've been trained to be, believe me, he's not worth it."

She gave me the gun. "Let's get the hell out of here before more come."

I nodded, retrieving one of the goon's guns, putting the dial on half power, I turned to Doug, "Sleep tight," and pulled the trigger watching the Mayor of Skantie collapse. God I hoped he had a big headache when he woke up.

I stepped over the whimpering Mary and the trembling maid. "I'd get off planet, both of you," I advised. "When he wakes up tomorrow, he isn't going to be in a good mood."

I met Hill outside the apartment, to my surprise she was carrying the puppy. "I couldn't leave him, he was going home with Merline. I'll give him to her mother."

Rookie thinking, I wasn't going to argue, we didn't have the time. We had to get off planet, whatever evidence Merline had obtained must have died with her. I was just happy we were both alive, I'd deal with the consequences later. We got on the first junket off. It took us to Castor's Asteroid. We would have to wait for a ship to Hadden's Station where we could make the jump.

We were waiting on the shuttle that had taken us to the Jump transport when Hill, who'd been unusually quiet spoke, "I'll take the blame when we get back."

"I'm the Chief, what happens is my responsibility," I told her sipping my java. "I've been in worse spots," although I really couldn't think of one that compared to this one. Explaining it to my superiors would be a challenge.

She picked up the dog, stroking it unconsciously, "I'm sorry, you were right." She held the dog up teasing him, he dangled in front of her. Suddenly she took on a serious look, "Oh, no, he's got a bad rash here, I hope it doesn't make them quarantine him." She rubbed the spot. "Look, Chief, it's a fake patch of fur stuck on his belly, it's caused him to have a rash."

I suddenly became very interested in the pup. I watched as she peeled off the patch of fur, taped to the inside of the stick-on was a little round computer disk. We both looked at each other, laughing. I had them! No wonder Merline was bringing the dog home! She thought it was her ticket to freedom.

They announced that it was time to board the ship. We'd be jumping within the hour. As I gulped down several disorient pills, Hill wolfed down a couple of pieces of pizza. Damn the woman! "Got a first name Hill?" I asked.

"Judy." She answered. "And you Chief?"

"Skip."

As we entered the ship, she turned to me, "Well, Skip, I'd like to volunteer again." She sounded so dead serious I stopped her before she could step across the threshold.

"What for now!" I wasn't up to another adventure.

"To take you out to dinner when we get back."

We'll maybe I was wrong. One more adventure wouldn't hurt.

# "GOOD DAY, PEOPLE"

Pj Belanger

The Chamber had finally seated everyone. The New York congressman had been the last to arrive and the last seated. They were already running twenty minutes late and the dark looks he received from the Republican Whip had made him smile as he contritely slipped into his seat. Two self-important men stood in the main isle, both struggling to fit in between the rows as both sides leaned out looking up at a large wooden double doorway. "The President of the United States," the two tried to yell in unison but frankly it came out jumbled as one lagged behind the other. The chamber erupted in a roar as the President of the United States stepped out of the double doors and headed down the aisle. Hands reached out from the aisle seats. Both Republican and Democratic politicians were trying to jockey to get on the national television cameras. The president tried to smile, but the smile was forced, weary lines stretched from his eyes, gray streaks, newly grown were now framing his hairline. He was jostled down the runway. He tried to clasp as many hands as possible. He was well aware of the urge to show hometown folks that their representatives were "on the job", they were "important" members. He was also aware of what hypocrites they were for he had walked among them.

The podium stood on a stage on a platform in front of two desks which now held the House Speaker representing the People's Chamber and the Vice President seated for the Senate. Both were mimicking what was expected of them- standing, clapping, smiling. The House speaker's mouth had tenseness, she was well aware of the difficult night ahead. Republicans sat together on one side, ready to pounce and wave their signs at everything the President said. Perhaps the President would get some polite clapping from them, most likely not. The Democrats sat together on the other side, how symbolic she thought, they had their phones out ready to twitter, ready to criticize any move the Republicans made. It was as if an important battle was being waged in a petty war. The black robed justices, only six had shown up, one was sick, two didn't care. The six sat stoically, trying to not show any emotions, yet never quite managing it. "When had they become so politically charged?" she wondered, yet things had changed so much lately, everything had changed. "Where did all the hate come from? Why? Aren't we all for the same country?" she wondered. Even the gallery, which used to sit quietly in awe, hummed excitedly, ready to hurrah or boo at any moment. She noticed the First Lady looked taut and anxious yet at least dignified and quiet.

The President made his way down the aisle. Cameras flashed. Suddenly as in slow motion everything came to a halt. The air became thick, thick as molasses, eyes widened, mouths opened, it became impossible to move, never mind talk. The double wooden doors made a loud boom as they closed all by themselves followed by a click at every exit in the room. The Speaker of the House slowly, ever so slowly lowered her gavel to the desk top, it would not make the loud bang calling everyone to attention, yet she held onto it, unable to perform even the easy task of dropping the handle. Confusion reigned in everyone's eyes but the dense atmosphere made it impossible to react. Even the security detail stood frozen, their hands half way to their sidearms.

A big clap of thunder arose from the ceiling; all eyes went slowly upward, the thick air made it impossible to raise their heads quickly. A ball of light, almost a ball of fire, glowed at the top of the room. It moved slowly to the middle of the hall. A figure began to appear in the center. A man took shape, at first details were minimum, but slowly his features came into focus.

Like the Cheshire Cat, he smiled. His smile was perfectly shaped on a perfectly shaped mouth, head, hair and bright blue eyes. He became more distinct, his toga outfit allowed him to show fabulous ripples in his arm muscles and his leg muscles. His feet were high tied sandals wrapped half way up his taut well shaped legs. His curly blonde hair floated down with him. Then came the opening of his wings, flapping down into a soft landing just behind the podium. From the tip of his hair to the tip of his toes, he was a beautiful sight to behold. His halo pulsed bright and dimmed.

He looked down at the hall, slow motion all. "Good day," he seemed to pause looking for the next word, "ah, people." His voice was lyrical almost musical. "Please sit." All of a sudden the air lightened, most could now move. Some did actually stay seated or took a seat. Some, panicking, ran for the exits, which of course were closed quite tightly. "I said, take a seat!" Now his voice resounded within the hall, loud and firm, yet not in the least harsh. Still, some were pulling on the double wooden doors almost clawing them to get out. "One more time, please sit," he calmly said, looking at the few not sitting.

Four large pops that were felt in everyone's ear, as if air was being displaced, came from the corners of the ceilings. Four Cherubs appeared, each in a ball of light, in the four corners of the room, ceiling high. Each was portly, their only clothing was a diaper-type underwear and each carried a small spear. Their halos brightened as one of them pointed at a senator pulling at the doors. A beam of lightning emitted from its tip, hitting the Senator squarely in the butt. He yelped.

"I said to sit," the podium's speaker said. A second beam of light from the far corner hit a hysterical congresswoman squarely in the butt. She yelped even louder than the Senator did. It was at this point that all remaining runaways took seats rather quickly. Only the president stood alone in the aisle looking rather forlorn.

"Ah, Mr. President, please come over and sit in that Supreme Court's chair." He pointed to an empty seat that belonged to one of the Justices who'd been taken to the hospital that day and could not attend. "Oh, yes," the Adonis-like man said, seeing the President sliding into the justice's seat, "don't worry, she'll recover soon."

Everyone's attention went to the halo around his hair, as it turned bright and then dimmed. As if sensing the Speaker rising, he commanded quietly, "Just stay where you are Madame and you too Mr. Vice President." He seemed to stretch, shaking himself, fluttering his wings.

"Yes, I must get on with it here." He looked around the hall slowly. "I am Michael, sometimes called Archangel Michael. Whatever, it doesn't matter. I believe most know of me, I've been to this world several times." The room hummed in gasps and ohs. "I am here to prepare the hall, so let's get to it." He closed his wings and it was then that everyone noticed his sword slung on his back in a jeweled scabbard. He shook his head and his curls cascaded down reaching his shoulders and beyond. Though he was obviously masculine, he could be easily be called beautiful, his features perfect like a carved Michelangelo statue.

"There will be no interruptions! None. You will not be rude by interrupting. Shouts will not be permitted. Being discourteous will get you nowhere!" His eyes focused on a Senator and the man blushed red. "There will be NO outbursts, you will sit and listen. Am I clear on this?" All heads nodded, including the chastised Senator. "What has ever become of manners of common courtesy?" His voice was lyrically sad, "It is something you had learned, now unfortunately you must relearn. You have forgotten that there is a time and place for everything. There is never a time for rudeness."

"Alright, everyone who has a sign, hold it up, please." The Republicans held up their signs, all with disparaging remarks. "I said, all!" One of the cherubs moved but the Republican moved faster, holding up the sign he had been sitting on. The cherub relaxed, sitting back like the other three, chubby legs crisscrossed with a rather bored childlike face but attentively watching the angel.

Michael waved his hand, the signs burned. Each sign holder gave a surprised shriek, but at a motion from the angel, they quickly resumed their seats. "Now, all electronic devices, all those," he seemed to falter, searching again for the words, "cell phones, Blackberries, iPods, all those little kind of things, hold them up." This time there was no hesitation as they all scrambled to get them out of their pockets, purses, belts, retrieving all the electronic gadgets and holding them up. Michael waved his hand, everyone dropped them as they fell smoking to the floor.

"Thank you, it is rude to be talking and twittering when someone is talking to you. I hope you understand Senator." He looked directly at a woman in the fourth row, sitting with the Democrats; she was famous for her tweets. She nodded, he smiled. "Let's see what else." The clerks around the room looked frightened, staring at their computers. He smiled, that wonderful smile, "You are fine, I wasn't referring to functional computers, please take whatever notes you like, it is your job. Just like it is their job to listen."

"All of you Senators and Representatives get up from your seats and move to another. I think it is called 'mingling', except you Justices and Mr. President, you are fine right where you are." He looked up "Come on people now, hup hup." He waved his arms to demonstrate, encouraging them to change seats. He watched, his beautiful sparkling blue eyes seemingly watching them all at once.

"Ok, let's do it again," he almost laughed, "let's really mix it up." He watched as Democrats and Republicans mixed. "One more time, no groupings, we could be here all night!" This time there was a lot of movement and at last the angel seemed satisfied. "Much better, perhaps it is an example to be followed.

When you walk under this domed building you walk in as a representative of the American People with only a subtitle of Republican, Democrat or Independent. Look to your left and right." He paused a second as all did so. "These are fellow human beings, fellow neighbors, fellow Americans. How they feel, how they look, their beliefs are secondary to the respect you each deserve as people. It has everything to do with representing the best interests of the people you serve. Remember after the election, you represent all, those that agree with you and those that don't."

He seemed to pause as if thinking, his halo brightened and dimmed, "Oh, yes, we are missing a few people." He looked over to the Justices, frowning. A wave of his hand and the two absent Justices were suddenly in their seats, looking rather disheveled and bewildered. One was wearing what looked like his pajamas and one was in a tuxedo.

"Thank you for joining us. Let me catch you up on what you've missed." He nodded his head, touched his halo and both Justices grew wide-eyed. "You know," he pointed his finger at them, "I believe you forget you are also representatives of the People. People first, law second, ego last. Do not miss another State of the Union. Understand?" Both Justices nodded. "Being religious or smart, doesn't give excuse for rudeness nor righteousness. Nor does it make you right. A little humility please." He looked directly at the heavier Justice.

He looked up to the gallery, "I am sorry you must stay stationary, it is easier if you relax and you'll not notice the heaviness of it."

Michael looked at the people in the hall, including all in his scrutiny. "Most of all, do not lie to those that follow me, in words or thoughts. I warn you of dire consequences if you do."

He fluttered his wings as if to emphasize his words. The wings were pure white, soft in sight. He held out his hand, palm up, "I know you are creatures that enjoy special effects." A large globe twirled above his hand. The Earth in all its glory spun as the sun hit from East to West. "You have been given a beautiful gift." He lifted it high in the air, "It is filled with such wondrous things."

He held his other hand up, a heliograph of a giraffe lumbered across. "I so love this animal. Such a creature." He seemed lost in his thoughts watching as the animal disappeared from his hand. His halo brightened. "I dawdle." The Cherubs seemed to nod in agreement. He frowned at them. "You have been blessed with a beautiful place to live and the free will to enjoy it, not to mention the intellect to advance in it." His wings seemed to tighten, his eyes frown, "You have forgotten your unique humanity, replaced it with arrogance and stupidity. Perhaps many of you will regain it today." His halo brightened and then dimmed.

A soft puff resounded in the hall, a woman appeared next to him. Stunning, yes, but more than her graceful tan Arabic looks was the presence of calm that she emanated. She was dressed in a dark gray suit, skirt flowing down to just below her knees. On her feet were simple dark pumps, her head just made the Archangel's shoulders. Her darkish brown hair was curled under just below her ears with a soft yellow halo that encircled her head. Her eyes were slightly upturned and dark brown. She wore no jewelry but then she didn't need to. "Hello, Mary." Michael bent down and brushed her forehead with his lips. Her smiled lit up the entire assembly.

"Oh, thank you, Michael." Her voice, although soft, could be clearly heard. "Is all ready?"

"Yes," the angel sounded exasperated, "as ready as they're going to be. Good luck." He floated almost to the ceiling, a white light encircling him. A burst of lightning and he was gone.

She laughed, lyrical and bright. The whole room laughed with her, including the Cherubs. "He does like to make an entrance, his exits are spectacular." She again laughed. "He is still one of my favorites, he has helped me here before, although it has been a long time since I was here in person." Her halo went bright and she seemed to nod, as if someone was talking to her. She looked down at the assembly, up at the crowd and even glanced back to the Speaker and Vice President as if to make sure she included everyone. "Good day, people. I am Mary, let us leave it at that. Who I am does not matter as much as what I have to extend to you." The room was silent with awe. Unlike Michael, she was not in the least frightening, just lovely. They all wanted to touch her, embrace her, her aura was one of understanding.

"With all your advancements most everyone in this Capital lives in a self-designed bubble." She placed her delicate hands on the podium and leaned forward. "You have made yourselves immune to your surroundings unless, of course, it serves your interests or the interests that pay you." Mary stopped, letting her words sink in.

"Why am I here, why now?" Her eyes scanned the room, seemingly reading each individual's thoughts. "We had great expectations for The United States of America. Perfect you've never been. As a matter of fact, you've made some pretty bad errors, but striving forward none the less. Learning, for the most the most part, from your mistakes. Stumbling toward a higher humanity, a beacon of promising aspirations, an experiment that has lately soured so badly, it has come to our attention.

We have left you alone mostly, hopeful, as in the past, you would redirect yourselves. Hopeful, with the rest of the Earth, you'd lead the way for the human race. The future of your kind turned horrible in the last few years but with the last election, we were optimistic, however, the hatred and your insensibility to the world is boiling too hard. What happened?" Mary asked and everyone felt as if the question was directed at them personally. One tear fell slowly down her cheek. She picked up her head, "I will not give up on you, no I won't." She straightened stretching her arms out.

The entire room became silent as warmth entered their bodies, their minds became relaxed and the feeling of love and tenderness overwhelmed them. A collective sigh rippled across the room. It was so heartwarming that everyone's face was peaceful; full of joy, happiness, eyes bright with hope. The feelings were coming from this small woman feeding everyone. "This is what sustains me."

Again she raised her hands, each person felt something different. The joy of new parents, the long lost love found at last, the feeling of freedom to pursue a new dream, the holding of a new puppy, the discovery of a new cure. The mind caress went on and on and everyone reveled at the beauty, the simplicity of sheer bliss. The feeling of common good pervaded, the room became one of people at their best. The hatred gone, common humanity restored to the fore front.

"Yes," she exclaimed, excitement in her voice, "you are capable of this." Her body slumped, "but you are also capable of this."

The room groaned as visions of despair filled the minds in the room- A child huddling in a corner as its parents argued, a family being blown apart by a bomb, a woman feeling a bullet, being robbed, being raped. The whole room burst into howls, moans and cries of despair. It continued as feelings and visions flooded each of the Senators, House Representatives, Justices, and everyone in the room were made aware of the hurts of everyday life on the planet. Some felt the hurt of the sick, the hunger of the poor, the anguish of the unemployed, the ravages of war, the hate toward those that are different, the anxiousness of waiting for a donor or a cure, of sitting in a nursing home alone. They were swamped with overwhelming poverty that strips one of all hope and dignity.

On and on. Those that had prejudices felt the opposite side. The understanding came to each of the destructive rigidity of stagnant beliefs. The unnecessary despair of all the world came rushing down upon them. The blindness that comes with racism, of stubbornness beyond reason. It was horrible, to some enlightening.

It suddenly stopped. All moaned as if they'd been serving in a war zone, shock pervaded, dull eyes filled the room. "It is what I feel every day, all of it!" Mary told them. "I look to you," she spread her hands out to the room, "and find little help, less and less every day." Her hands fell to her sides as if the burden was almost too much. "It is what you mostly ignore, at least too many of you do. Is the money you receive from special interests worth ignoring the problems?" The entire room was crying.

Once more she held out her arms and love filled the room again. A collective sigh arose. Even the Cherubs stood up and stretched their short bodies, as if they too needed joy, the warmth after such coldness. "Some of you will remember what I have shown you, have let you feel, I am hopeful more than less.

Get out of your bubble. Let your humanity once again surface, let humility reign. I am not pleading for perfectionism, but for reasonableness, for cooperation to get the right things done. Let both sides of an issue be brought forth. Care and compassion should be given to all, even toward the worst of you. More understanding, less condemnation. Let not this experiment in free will come to an end. Excessive wealth will not be rewarded to those in this chamber and beyond." Her halo glowed bright, "Trust me on this. Do not believe that if you do some good things that the bad things will be forgotten. It doesn't work that way. The equation is complicated."

Again tears flowed freely from many on the floor, some sobbed openly. Yet as they cried, she raised her arms and hope stirred with forgiveness flowing into their minds and the tears stopped.

Suddenly a big boom again erupted from the ceiling. A huge, giant of a man, surrounded in smoke appeared glaring down at them. His hair was bright red, jutting out from his head like lightning strikes, partially hidden by a decorated but battered helmet. He wore what looked like an ancient roman soldier's outfit with armored chest and a golden cape. His skin was a light copper but he was covered in scars, ugly battle scars. Unlike Michael's scabbard sword, his was held in his hand. The weapon was enormous and studded with jewels that sparkled as he waved it in the air, making broad swishing sounds as it passed above the heads of the seated crowd. He slowly descended, glowering at them. His wings were very wide, not bright white like Michael's but with a browner tinge that made them looked worn and aged.

"Hello, Gabriel," Mary laughed. "You're worse than Michael. I think you've scared everyone enough."

"Humph," the Archangel exclaimed. "They haven't seen the worst of it yet."

"Well," she smiled touching his arm. She barely made his elbow. He bent down kissing her forehead. "I will leave you to it then." Her halo gleamed brightly, she nodded to the assembly and disappeared. A collective moan came from the audience as her warmth left with her. It was replaced by the cold stare of Gabriel.

"Good day, people," he boomed, nothing soft about him including his voice. "Enough coddling." He took his large sword and stabbed it into the stage next to the podium. All jumped including the Speaker and Vice President as the wood split and splintered. Even the Cherubs stood up looking annoyed. "I will be frank," he said walking around the sword to get closer to the crowd. His hand held forward, like Michael's it held a large twirling globe, the Earth in all its splendor.

He let it float up, getting larger and more detailed as it hung above the seated hoard. All eyes followed it, as the sun came up, the moon circled, even the tides of the ocean could be seen rippling to the shores, beautiful white clouds drifted across the continents. The smell of fresh oceans and the call of birds riding the winds filtered into the hall. The honking of sea lions rippled across the ceiling. The smell of newly cut grass filled the room, the aroma of fragrant flowers floated down. A warm breeze, promising spring brushed against everyone's faces followed by the crispness of mountain air.

"I would like to use words like stupid, destructive species, even assholes." Gabriel abruptly shouted, interrupting the tranquil mood. The Cherubs all shook, their little bodies rising in surprise at his words. Looking up at them the angel quickly said, "But I won't, I promised." The little bodies settled back down but giving him disapproving looks, shaking their heads.

"As you've been told, you've been given a beautiful home, not perfect, but believe me nothing is." He backed to the podium, leaning on it. Creaks could be heard as his weight strained the structure, he didn't seem to notice. "There comes a time when not so perfect becomes horribly awful." He disgustingly shook his head, emphasizing his point, he pointed to the turning globe.

The globe became smoke covered, brownish clouds covered the land, the oceans became brownish gray. The room smelled of toxic fumes, of overrun sewage. The chamber became filled with sounds of gagging as each seated gasped for air. Suddenly the oceans started to bubble, the land erupted in flames. The world became a dead spiraling mass. The ball exploded."

He looked down at the crowd daring them to challenge him, none did. He again held up a globe, this time, it was clear blue, white clouds, rippling clear oceans. Once again the globe became the pristine planet revolving around the sun, yet they all knew devoid of life. "We start again, capiche? Enough said on this topic," but he wasn't quite finished. Pointing his finger at them, he asked "Would you let a child keep a filthy room, not noticing the rats and bugs gathering, infecting the rest of your house? I think most of you would think it prudent to clean the room, even if the kid threw a tantrum. "

"If you weren't so important, we, at least I, would leave you to yourselves but you are important. But mark my words, not irreplaceable. I'm not big on free will, you have a chance to prove me wrong. Capiche?" Most nodded. Gabriel looked at one of the skeptical legislators, "Not with me Senator?" he bellowed. The Senator nodded rapidly. "Don't bull shit me, you're as dumb and stubborn as an ox," the angel growled. The Cherubs all stood up, shaking their spears rapidly at the scarred winged warrior.

Gabriel quickly looked up, shrugging his hefty shoulders submissively at them. "I wasn't threatening, but I hate insincerity." His hand pounded on the podium, all jumped including the Cherubs, "So, take Michael's warning, do not try and hide the truth! Do not tell me one thing and really mean another. More importantly, don't pander to the people who look to you for leadership, for setting an example." The Cherubs sat back, but were still attentively tensely watching the angel.

"The truth can be blurred, hard to decipher, there can be many sides, many consequences," the angel began pacing. "Inhumanity to fellow humans though is not questionable. Outright lying to push your own agenda is wrong! The hypocrisy in this room makes me sick! When your wars, your torture, your bigotry, your gluttony for power and wealth, becomes even a concern for me, then things are getting out of hand. I suppose that is why I was sent, for I am a warrior but one of necessity to right a wrong. I do not battle for greed. I do not fight battles that are frivolous and wrong. I am short tempered, quick to act, but brutally honest about what I do. Some say too brutally honest. If any of you remember me, I come as a last resort, a last warning. We do not come to make decisions for you. We gave you the gift to do so yourself. We came to remind you of your humanism, of your responsibilities. So here it is, clean up your act, start to become the creatures you were meant to be, or beware!" The Cherubs all stood up, spears in hand, watching the crowd but all the legislators were silent as fear filled the room. Gabriel's threat was real and they all knew it.

The archangel turned his face to the crowed, to everyone's surprise tears fell down his cheeks, his face was contorted by anguish, "Be what you were meant to be, the salvation of all." He grabbed his huge sword pulling it easily from the stage, the wood creaked and moaned, his wings unfolded, they were immense, the sound of them flapping, deafened all sound. He stood above them, looking down, his eyes went to the President, "It's up to you." His halo brightened and he was gone. Four small pops followed him and the chamber was alone.

All sat in silence, not a sound, as all were released from any type of bond. The wide wooden doors opened slowly. Even the gallery was silent. Free again but silent. The President finally rose, his steps heavy as he went up to the podium, he leaned into the microphone, "Let us begin."

# REVENGE

Pj Belanger

"I can't go on! Please mistress, please..." Kalen's voice was a whinny whisper. She ignored him, he'd been at it for most of the morning. "Please, just a little water..."

"Shut up, you're wasting energy," Sina hated even replying, using up her own failing strength.

Kalen resorted to just whimpering softly. She closed her ears. Sweat was dripping steadily into her eyes, the salt stung. Her tongue was swollen, bumping into the sides of her mouth, making what little saliva her dehydrated body had left from going down her dry parched throat. Agony. I deem this day agony. Crazy thoughts were rambling around in her brain. Putting one foot in front of the other was almost an impossible task. Her gelding suddenly dropped to its knees. Moan, moan...

It took all her efforts to return to the side of the horse. The sun was baking them alive. I'm like a pig on a spit. The thought whizzed inside her head and for a moment the disorientation was so great she had to grab onto the back of the animal just to keep from falling.

"Sina, Sina," her name came as a murmur on the hot desert wind.

"Mikiel?" her voice was unrecognizable to her own ears, hoarse and cracked.

"Sina!"

It was Mikiel! Where? With great effort she turned her head, straining her burnt eyes, trying to find where the voice had come from. "Mikiel! Mikiel, where are you?" The waves of heat danced in front of Sina's blurred vision. The sun was suddenly shadowed by a silhouette. "Mikiel!!" She barely got the word out, her hand reached toward the shadow.

"Mikiel's dead." The silhouette said it so matter-of-factly that the truth hit like the blunt end of a sword. "It's me, Kalen... are, are you all right?" The dark outline was only her servant, her heart sank, the pain of grief returning to overwhelm the reasonable mind. "Mistress... we need water... I can't, I can't go on anymore."

Reaching into the saddle bag, she brought out the last water flask. The pouch was almost empty. Filling the cup of her hand full, Sina gave some to her horse and Kalen's pony. Neither animal was going to last much longer. "Kalen, only a sip. Anymore and I'll slit your throat." Sina rasped the words out but they had their effect as her servant reluctantly took only a sip. She took nothing for herself.

"Where is the end?" Kalen screeched, his swollen face contorted even worse by pain. "I thought you had a map?"

"I do." She was angry at having to take the energy to explain but Kalen looked so deathly weak and frightened, it would do her no good to lose her slave to despair. She'd seen soldiers, good soldiers, just give up and die from exhausted despair. "It can't be far. We have to keep going." To her relief, Kalen followed. The Nubic slave, always faithfully, had followed her since she'd won him in a poker game back on the Barbarian Coast several years before. Mikiel had been there too. She tried to force the thought out of her head but her lover's crooked smile forced its way in, his mischievous fun-loving emerald eyes, the memory of his hot kiss, the places they had been together, the sunsets they had shared. She fell to her knees sobbing. Get up, you'll not help him crying like a soft kept harlot. Time is running out. The thought of their long four month journey brought her to the reality that she was running against time.

The sun was getting high and soon they would have to stop. The heat would be too much. The two travelers had followed the same routine for a week, sleeping in the dead peak of the afternoon and traveling at night and through the morning until the heat became unbearable. It had taken three days longer than predicted, making her think that the map was either a fake or they had taken a wrong turn somehow. Worse, the delay had used up their water supply. If only I'd not been in such a hurry, I should have brought more supplies. Mikiel will be ashamed of me...

"Look," Kalen pointed. A Caucian buffaus was making its way across a sand rise not far from where they were baking. It was a blurry image, as the heat waves of the desert danced before their sand caked eyes.

"We have to be near the end," Sina somehow managed to move her dried cracked lips. "They don't go deeply into the desert. Let's not lose it." With great effort, they began following the huge long-haired bison. When they thought they couldn't bear the seething air any longer but would have to put up the tarp and wait for evening, the land began to level out. The ground became firmer with small hard pebbles mixing with the sand. The stronger footing made the going a little easier, buying the two exhausted travelers a little more time.

Small boulders appeared in the distance. Yet, they couldn't stand the roasting sun any longer, finally losing the buffaus as it put too much distance between them. The overwhelming heat forced them to stop; the air was boiling. Both fell immediately asleep under the thick cloth awning that they had only the strength to half erect. The protective covering gave little relief except that the sun did not fall directly on them.

When Sina awoke, the sun was almost down, the wind had picked up and she was half covered in sand. To her dismay, the pony was dead and her horse close to it. Kalen cried incessantly, his lips were bleeding, his hands blistered raw. Her threats were meaning less and less to him. "Get up or you will die!! Get up or I'll gut you right here and suck your blood!" His pus crusted eyes half opened and Sina ended up having to drag him to his feet.

They trudged on, by true evening the desert was beginning to end, hard ground crunched under their feet. The land began to abruptly rise. Despite the relief in the night's coolness, their thirst became all consuming. "Water...water..." was all Kalen was able to mumble as he tripped along behind her.

"I can't find the water holes until I have light." Her words came out as whispers. Her servant was half delirious. Worse, she was near crazy. Sina just focused on putting distance between the desert and the coming of morning. They trudged on, her horse was barely able to walk and they had to let the animal rest frequently. She had only enough water left to wet the animal's muzzle. The saddle had long ago been discarded, forcing her to carry the saddlebags and her weapons were tied to her sore hands for fear of losing the precious swords. The large sword now dragged unceremoniously on the ground, the other smaller weapon dangled against her raw thigh. She was beyond caring.

They came to the first small trees deep into the night and both were so dehydrated that fits of hallucinations were frequent. Neither human realized that the desert had truly been left behind. Neither took notice of the full moon nor of the shadowy forest surrounding the two semi-dead travelers.

In the end, it was the gelding that saved them. Suddenly the animal seemed to acquire the strength to overtake the two stumbling people, almost pushing Sina to the ground. The animal had smelled water and instincts drove it to a small nearby stream. Kalen and Sina spread themselves across the little brook letting the water wash over their dried out bodies, drinking with their mouths wide opened. The horse had gotten down on it's front knees and had most of it's head plunged under water.

Sina half remembered crawling to the moss covered banks before passing out completely. Intermittent bouts of consciousness came and went. She wasn't sure what was awake and what was exhausted hurt dreaming. Vaguely, trips to the stream, on her hands and knees filtered into her memory. The cool, cold water....

"Sina, Sina"

Mikiel! I'm coming. Her swollen tongue wouldn't work, the words echoed in her mind and could not be released. Frustration as her dream carried her back, reliving that which should not have happened. Sobs wracked Sina's body as once again the wizard's last smile flooded her memory, his words, "Killers, thieves, I will have my revenge"

" _NO, no, no_...." the words got caught on her swollen tongue and would go no further. Sina once again saw the bastard wizard scratch Mikiel's arm then swallow the blood. "No, no, no..." The nightmare made her come fully awake and with reality came the pain, left as a potent reminder of the brutal desert.

Stiffly, Sina stumbled to her feet. It took a moment before her vision would settle down beyond just blurriness. Kalen lay next to the stream, his legs still half in the water. A rotten smell brought full alertness. The disgusting odor was overwhelming. On the other side of the stream, her gelding lay dead. It had been half eaten by scavengers and the maggots were already devouring what was left. Her stomach turned upside down making her stumble back to the trees, to wretch in agony. Long moments of gulping fresher air brought her senses back to the here and now.

"Kalen," it came out as a dry whisper. No response. Taking all her will, Sina, trying not to breathe, returned to the stream and shook her servant. To her relief, a low moan came from the slave. "Kalen get up," her voice sounded slightly stronger. Finally, using what was left of her waking strength, she pulled him up to the trees, then immediately had to sit down and rest. The moon was just rising when she found the strength to try to make sense of her situation. The glowing moon was no longer full but on the wane. How many days have we been here?

"Kalen!" this time shaking him with her foot. This time getting a groaning response as her slave's eyes flickered open. "Get up! We're lucky the wolves had the horse to eat and left us alone! Unless you want to be their next meal you'd better get up!" The words just barely made it out but it was enough that Kalen managed to sit up and, eventually, leaning on his mistress, stood.

"Let's go up stream. I'll build us a fire, keep us safe from wolves." He only nodded, shuffling his feet, hobbling, Kalen followed. Finding her weapons and the saddlebags, which she must have hastily just dropped, Sina hobbled, following the stream up to where the trees grew thicker.

"The horse," Kalen managed to softly mumble.

"It's dead," her voice emotionally choked. The gelding had been Mikiel's gift to her. Here love, remember what he doesn't have, I do.

A half sob got stuck in her throat. I'm coming, she cried. Unrelenting tears fell down her bruised burned cheeks, stinging the blisters that lay at the corners of her lips. When she finally stopped, any strength regained had left her and both collapsed against a tree whose huge roots overhung the water. Sina fell into a restless sleep, her sword draped over her lap. Her servant, Kalen, slept leaning against her.

The sun, falling lightly on her face, brought her awake. The air was fresh and crisp. At first, not realizing where she was, a smile started but her cracked skin reminded Sina exactly where they were. Not moving, she intently listened. Only the sound of the brook and the chirping of the birds was disturbing the morning. Kalen still lay leaning against her. "Wake up," she poked her slave, "we've gotta get moving." Her voice sounded hoarsely stronger.

Taking hold of her sword, she almost dropped the weapon. The deep cutting blisters covering her palms sent streaks of pain running up her arm. Forcing the pain away, Sina regained her feet, dragging Kalen up with her.

"We haven't anything to eat but at least we have water." Her servant, however, remained silent. "We might come across some berries or I'll catch a rabbit. That damn gypsy city can't be that far away."

Silence. Her servant's lack of response bothered her more than his whimpering had. However, nothing was to be done. She was relieved when he followed her, hobbling the best he could. Her first thoughts were on obtaining food. Catching a rabbit or fish took quickness, something that was still beyond her aching body. In the end, they settled for a bit of squirrel, who'd made the mistake of being overly friendly. They ate some strange yellow fruit that was sweet but held a bitter after taste. Sina had been afraid of it, but Kalen seemed not to care and had bitten straight into it. She had followed suit, death had been playing with them for too long. It wasn't much but it was enough to lift their spirits. Although Kalen was still not talking, his face was not full of pain and his eyes watching the campfire were not shrouded in agony.

"Tomorrow we will find Cathparta," Kalen only gave her a nod. "I still have enough nuggets to get us lodging but not enough to buy us mounts. I may have enough for mules for the trip home, although they will not be as good as..." the words failed, her tired mind not being able to think of the dead gelding, Mikiel's gift. She had sold Mikiel's own mount for the money to make the long trip from the wizard's castle. Damn that Prince, cheating me on my money, if I hadn't been in such a hurry...

"Mistress, can't we...," her slave's rasping voice broke abruptly into her thoughts.

"Can we what?" she snapped.

"Go back, this is foolish." Kalen had slumped against a log, his eyes had never left the fire. He had never questioned her actions before, before the wizard's killing. She could not bring herself to think on it.

"No we are not going back. I have to find him before his soul forgets..." she had never explained herself to him before either, words failed her. The strong and the weak, their master/slave relationship had always been well defined. How could she explain to a slave. Mikiel was everything. There had been nothing before him, nothing but endless wandering, bloody mercenary work just to survive. Mikiel had brought her dreams, hope. Had made her feel like someone special, someone not born in a harem, of a whore...

"He is dead," her slave sounded so final, so sure.

Am I crazy? Her determined disciplined soldier's mind wandered back, her strong will had always proven her ally when all else failed, her clear thinking had served her well. Where is my clear thinking now? Gone with Mikiel's soul? Will I find him in the city? Her doubting, however, did not show in her answer, "he is not dead, that wizard made his soul go to Cathparta."

"How sure are you? You have only the word of that old hag. Mikiel died with the wizard. A robbery gone bad. It has been four moons, a long journey for what?"

"The hag's crystal told her. He is there!" Sina did not want to talk of it anymore and her servant knowing her tone, said not another word. Sina's own inner thoughts betrayed her confidence. She could still hear the wizard's last dying breathe, "You cannot save him, I send his soul beyond your reach. Your lover thief will be in the arms of someone else." Mikiel's last screech, as before her eyes his form wavered as his soul lifted out of his body, a wraithlike shadow that spun quickly out of sight, leaving only ashes behind. The memory brutally tore at her. The wizard's last words, "I have my revenge."

No, she would find Mikiel, he was not out of her reach, she had paid the hag handsomely for the information, for the healing drugs. Drugs that would make him remember who he was. They would be together again, the powerful wizard had not counted on the old witch-hag's crystal.

"We will find this city, it is supposed to be near the desert's edge." Sina fumbled with the map, her sun blistered fingers tracing the route she thought they needed to travel. It did not appear far yet she was soon to discover that they had wandered too far north. The city lay two days to their south. The trading route which began near the Forbidi Oasis and would have led them directly to the city, had somehow eluded them.

Both were weak, it ended up taking four days to reach the gates of Cathparta, a hustling trading center, filled with nomad desert people and olive merchants with darkened rubbery skins, smelling of strange herbs and spices. Most of the city's inhabitants were dressed in the white flowing garments that covered their entire bodies with brightly colored turbans protecting their faces from the sun. So alien, so far from where she had begun the journey. The heat and the dust filled her nostrils. The sun tortured her healing blisters.

"Curse that wizard," Sina mumbled under her breath, "curse that Prince for sending us into a trap and then the bastard refuses to pay me." We will make him pay, her thoughts wandered as they waited their turn to be let into the city. Mikiel will make him pay. She smiled at the thought of being reunited with her partner, her lover.

"Mistress," Kalen was pulling on her sleeve, bringing her out of her daydreaming, "it is our turn, come."

They passed through the huge stone gates with just a passing glance from the guards. There was no duty to be collected from two horseless travelers; it was the heavily loaded merchant wagons that demanded their attention. One guard, however, lecherously regarded her but Sina, used to being the object of men's attention, paid him no heed. Her mind now focused on finding Mikiel. The nomad city was much bigger than she had thought.

"Do you even know where to begin?" Kalen asked her, exasperation and disbelief dripping from his every word.

"The witch-hag saw some type of saloon. There was dancing and music. It could be a place he frequents often. He would find a body when his soul destination was reached, he would be dazed and confused. The hag knew nothing more, it is very powerful magic." Sina looked around, the city was compact, with narrow streets. Wind cleaned stone houses lined every avenue. It was impossible to tell where one building began, the next ended. Everywhere was sand, a constant reminder that the desert was not far away. Still the alleyways were shaded, the buildings high enough to keep the sun out. Every alleyway ended with various sized open squares. Vendors had tables with goods being sold or little shops. The heat still made the air heavy and oppressive.

"We need lodgings," Sina pointed to a large Inn that took up one whole square. "Here, take two nuggets and get what we need. I'll find Mikiel and come back here."

After Kalen was gone, Sina methodically started to check all the saloons. Unfortunately, there was a multitude and she came back to the Inn exhausted and discouraged. "I think there is a saloon on every street. These desert people like their drink." She had also found they liked their opium. The saloons reeked of it. The men had looked at her with open wantonness. She had been propositioned so much, she no longer heard their offers. Their own, dark eyed, exotically dressed woman openly hated her. A white blonde bitch that had come to take their men. No, you fools, I have my own. I don't need yours.

Kalen said nothing, he knew better than to disagree with his volatile mistress, she was beyond reason. On the second day he went with her. At the first saloon, he asked, "How will you know he is here?"

Sina unfold her hand. In the palm was a green cocoon bug. "The witch gave me this, if Mikiel is here, the cocoon will hatch and the butterfly will go to him and only him." She opened her other hand showing a vial filled with yellow powered dust. "I just need to make him smell this and he will return, his soul will remember."

Kalen, unbelieving, silently watched as Sina spent the day going from one saloon to another with no luck. The green cocoon lay dormant in her hand. The vial remained unopened. Each night they returned, the woman mercenary was openly discouraged. They had not much money left. "Mistress, perhaps it is time to go home before the sand storms begin, the innkeeper says the season is almost upon them."

"No, he is here. I know it." Mikiel is everything, everything, her mind whirled in confusion. The wizard would not have his revenge. "If I have to sell myself to these lecherous bastards, I'll do it. I'll not leave without him. He would not leave me." For the first time in front of her servant, she openly sobbed, falling asleep only when emotional exhaustion overcame her.

It was two days later when they came to the center of the city which opened upon a large bazaar. It was packed with merchants and soldiers, Arab soldiers. Soldiers, most of them drunk, were pushing, shoving, all heading in the same direction. Sina and Kalen were swept along with them. One soldier grabbed onto Sina, his big arm encircling her small waist. He leaned down, his breath rancid, full of the smell of opium and drink, his beard was full of the smell of olives and spices.

Sina brought her small dagger up to his neck. The look of surprise filled his onyx eyes, but he smiled and said something she could only guess at the meaning. With her other hand, she plunged her other dagger deep into his chest. He let her go as he slumped unceremoniously to the ground. He went unnoticed by the surging crowd. They just stepped over him and continued unabated.

Kalen was somehow at her side. He had to yell to make himself heard, "Where are they going?"

The answer was soon apparent as everyone seemed to be heading for a large doorway. Above the door was the head of a biffaus, it's antlers were huge. They were swept through the door and into a large saloon. Trophies of animals lay on all the walls, music drifted from the front where strange looking musicians were playing strange sounding instruments. The roar of the crowd was deafening. "Tisa, Tisa, Tisa," they chanted. The smell of opium stung Sina's nose. She backed up to the doorway, keeping to the side as more soldiers were coming in.

"What's going on?" she yelled to Kalen.

It was not Kalen who answered but a stranger. To her surprise, she understood him. "They are calling for the new singer." When he saw her surprise, he explained. "I'm a merchant out of Casti, one learns to dress like the desert people. It makes them more inclined to do trade. Where are you from?"

"We're from Cantalop." Sina answered as she looked down at her hand. The cocoon lay dormant.

"Mistress we should go," Kalen pulled on her sleeve but she ignored him.

"By Allah, you're far from home," the merchant looked at them in wonder. "Did you come with one of the caravans."

"No, we crossed alone," Kalen was annoying her, he was still pulling her along, imploring her to follow him outside.

"I can see the scars of the desert on your faces, it was a dangerous thing you have done," the merchant shook his head in wonder. "May I buy you a drink or perhaps something stronger?"

"No, I am busy looking for someone," Sina turned as if to go. The crowd was becoming increasing agitated and the roar of "Tisa" came even louder.

"She had best come out soon or they will tear the place apart," the Merchant looked as if he too was thinking of bolting out the double swinging doors as the room was ready to explode. "These desert nomads enjoy their woman and this one is particularly beautiful, she will command a high price, there is rumor that she has caught the eye of the new prince. He has taken the city by storm, it is his soldiers that fill the room. He sits at the front, over there by the stage." The merchant pointed to a handsome young man, whose handsome exotic looks even Sina could appreciate. "If you don't mind my impertinence, you could do well yourself. A woman with fair skin and blonde hair could command great riches."

"I'll not be pampered by any man," Sina scowled but could not say anymore as the crowd went wild when a woman appeared on stage. She was as delicate as an orchid. Her sleek black outfit was sheer showing off sensual curves. She danced like flowing water. Sina watched as each man quieted and became entranced, even Kalen had stopped pulling on her shirt and stood with his mouth half opened in wonder. A sheer veil covered her face but it could not hide her beauty. The woman floated down from the stage weaving her way through the crowd finally reaching the prince. He reached up and drew her down to his lap. She laughed, it was lyrical and enchanting.

Sina felt the stirring of the cocoon in her closed hand. Opening her palm, the butterfly came into full being and floated up into the air. Kalen gasped as he too saw the black butterfly take wing. It headed straight for the prince. "It's him, it's him," Sina excitedly gasped, at the same time grabbing the medicine vial off her belt. "I'm not surprised he's become the prince." She started forward but Kalen grabbed onto her belt, stopping his mistress. The butterfly circled above the prince, whose eyes had been riveted on the beautiful dancer. The prince's eyes held only adoring love for the beautiful dancer that sat so delicately on his lap. It was Tisa, the dancer, who noticed and watched the butterfly float slowly down to her settle in her hair.

"Wha..." Sina did not need Kalen to hold her back. The beautiful Tisa looked over the crowd, her gorgeous emerald eyes rested on the woman mercenary. Sina looked into the eyes of Mikiel. "No.." she mumbled, "No.." Tisa crookedly smiled, a familiar look came swiftly into her eyes as if for a moment she recognized Sina but the look was only fleeting. "No..." the woman mercenary mumbled again.

"Come, let us go now," Kalen sharply ordered his mistress. Sina could say nothing but grabbed onto to her servant for support; her legs could no longer support her. "Come!" He took the vial and let it drop, hearing the vial shatter on the saloon's floor.

"Is something wrong. Is she all right?" the merchant had crossed over to them but Kalen waved him away. "What is it?" he asked worriedly, seeing that the beautiful blonde woman was near fainting.

"It is nothing," Kalen replied leading Sina away.

But the Merchant was persistent, "What is it?" He yelled after the servant.

"Revenge," came floating back to him as Kalen led the whimpering girl away.

# PLANET FOR SALE

Pj Belanger

Hank, over all, was feeling pretty damn good. He straightened his tie, looked at his glossy black Gioniini shoes, confidently gripped his new leather briefcase. He was ready to start his day!

Stepping into the transporter, he cheerfully waved a good-bye to his wife. Hank pressed the preprogrammed red button with "Insuperable Realty" imprinted on it, smiling one last time as the image of his wife abruptly disappeared and the small transporter cube went black. Seconds later, arriving at his destination, he couldn't help but smile proudly as a pleasant voice said, "Insuperable Realty welcomes you, if you have a dream home in mind we can make it a real home. No planet too small, no sector too remote."

Ca-thup. "Ahhhh... damn!"

Mrs. Cott's red leather shoes appeared in his vision as he struggled to get up. "What happened?" He shouted at a pair of heels.

"You tripped over the security system, Mr. Fitz. It didn't come all the way down."

"Didn't you call to get it fixed?"

"I promise, I'll call right away."

"Immediately!" He gave his assistant one of his famous "I'm irritated frowns," as he brushed off his pants. The gesture was rather a fruitless one, considering his newly installed self-cleaning carpet retained not one piece of lint or dirt. Brushing his pants off was more of a cover up for his own embarrassment at having tripped again.

"Tell them there must be something wrong with the incoming transport link. The screen doesn't come all the way down when someone is transporting in from outside." Hank had told her the same thing yesterday and she had forgotten again to get it fixed. It crossed Hank's mind that, right now, Mrs. Cott was very near being replaced by one of the automated amanuense that many of his associates were purchasing and were now on sale. After all, they were a progressive company, a robot would certainly be good for their image.

"Yes sir, I will call right away. Can I get you anything? Coffee?" Mrs. Cott looked suitably chastised.

He nodded, changing his mind. No, not yet, Hank thought. He wouldn't replace her yet with one of those new robotic office assistants; who always smile, never forget an assignment, never get frustrated, never get a cup of coffee either. He had already been through that with the robotic company's saleswoman; "Sorry sir, our business assistant model does filing, typing, telecommunications linkages and complex office problem solving. To obtain coffee service, we do have a domestic model that cleans, does laundry and of course serves beverages."

A robotic to replace Mrs. Cott? No, not yet.

As soon as he sat at his desk, the computer screen came on showing the messages Mrs. Cott had registered late yesterday and this morning. Five were from the same person, Henrietta Marsh.

Mrs. Cott, bringing Hank his coffee, pointed to the messages marked urgent. "Please call Henrietta Marsh. She's already called several times this morning." His assistant looked appropriately annoyed.

"Oh, no. Is she still complaining?"

"Complaining? Screaming is more like it. She says if you don't call her back, she'll call the Planetary Housing Commission. Says, she's a personal friend of Commissioner Yenz."

He waved her quiet, he'd heard it all before. "Is Frank in yet?"

"No, he has an early showing in the Western Skinner sector."

"How about Stan?"

"No, he's investigating the strange weather patterns developing over on Newster, that new planet you just finished."

"Great. That means I have to call her myself." He grimaced at the thought of calling the rude, demanding woman. Her screaming was more than he was really up to this morning and to think he had been in such a good mood! Several times, Hank punched up Henrietta's coordinates, cutting the connections before she answered. He had to take himself to task, Come on now Hank, call her. Joe, his partner, was always chiding him for shying away from conflict. It wasn't that Hank Fitz (Realtor/ Entrepreneur/ Developer) didn't enjoy a hard sell, he did. He jointly owned "Insurperable Realty" which had become one of the top realties this side of Hayden's Galaxy, but like most salespeople, he hated the after sale confrontations. Finally, courage up, he plugged in the call.

Tapping his fingers on his desk, he waited for Henrietta Marsh to answer her televiewer. The older woman's scowling triple chinned face hadn't been on for more than a few seconds when she started shrieking at him in a high pitched crackling voice, "Mr. Fitz, about time you returned my call, I will not put up with this any longer." Shaking her chubby jewel bedecked hand at him she continued, "I have tried to be patient, but this situation is intolerable. Do you know what time it is?"

He glanced at his desk clock, "Nine hundred hours ..... Standard Galactic Time." Hank quickly added.

"Oh yeah, well its eleven hundred hours here! Two hours off! Tomorrow, I will be two hours and thirty seconds off and the next day two hours and one minute off!" Bending down, she hollered directly into her telecom receiver. Hank wished he had shut off his encircle sound amplifier. Her voice boomed around and round the room.

He decided to try and placate the irate woman, "I fully understand..."

She didn't let him finish, but went right on, "You promised me a twenty four hour day on SGT! I believe you boasted to the second! I want to match Standard Galactic Time, like everyone else!"

"I wasn't the one to say that Henrietta..."

"Are you calling me a liar, Mr. Fitz!"

He didn't want to say right out that his partner Joe Shoort had negotiated her contract, "No, no. I believe it is just a misunderstanding. When, our planetary engineering negotiator, Joe Shoort, gets back in the office, I'll have him call you immediately."

"I don't like dealing with that Mr. Shoort. He's rude, crude and totally unscrupulous."

You're a good one to talk, he thought, the woman was always trying to get something for nothing. Making a great effort to keep his voice pleasantly even, he tried to calmly reason with her, "Now Henrietta, really, I do feel you are going a little too far, remember that my business associate has a very busy schedule."

"I don't care what his schedule is! I was promised a twenty four hour day, I paid for a twenty four hour day, that is what I want or I want my money refunded, or better still, a new planet."

She went on for more than twenty minutes before Hank, mentally exhausted got her off the line. This was going to be one of those days. He wondered if Mrs. Cott had some aspirin.

Mrs. Cott, looking sympathetic, came in bringing him a second cup of coffee, replacing the cold one still sitting on his white conformated desk, that fitted nicely around his rather rotund belly. She patted his hand, as she handed him his mail printouts. He nodded his thanks...

Mrs. Cott for a robotic? No, not yet.

"Mr. Shoort has returned," she smiled.

"Tell him to get his ass in here," he snapped. Her smile disappeared as she sharply left the room in search of the elusive partner.

Frank felt guilty, but secretly better; it's good to have an assistant to take a bad day out on too, he thought. What was the use of snapping at integrated circuits and contoured plastic? He remembered what the automatronic brochure had boasted; "You'll never have to worry about hurting its feelings or it being in a bad mood. It will always smile."... Yeah, a mechanical smile, he contemplated Mrs. Cott's facial expressions. He enjoyed the reflection of human emotion...

No, not yet, he enjoyed Mrs. Cott, she had a way with his customers.

Joe Shoort, freshly returned from making a selling kill, came strolling in. His hands stuffed inside the multicolored pockets of his tailor fitted designer suit. Gloating at his more conservatively dressed partner, he brazenly stated, "When you gonna ditch the tie Hank? Rather old fashioned you know. Having a bad day, I hear. Maybe I can brighten it. Know that young couple, who were thinking of buying into Ocean View Planetary Co-op? Well, I talked them into going for a planet of their own, Ester. That's the planet we've been trying to dump for over a year now. Just about sewed up the deal, only have to find a bank to finance the mortgage."

"I thought we were going to abandon Ester." Hank looked skeptically at his partner. "Thought you said, we couldn't control the outrageous mutant insect population that keeps popping up. It would cost too much to correct. Which, by the way, wouldn't have started in the first place, if you hadn't contracted with such a cheap second rate sterilization company."

"Come on, Hank. How we ever going to make a profit?"

Hank ignored Joe, an often occurrence, and continued speculating, "Changing Ester's orbit is out of the question, too much paper work, take too long to complete. We'd have to tilt the axial rotation to get the temperature low enough and the winds high enough to manage the insect population just in the northern hemisphere alone- which will then play havoc with the southern hemisphere. Stan says even then we would lose some critical water mass by icing up more of the polar caps. Then, we'd have to repopulate with heartier corporeality's due to the temperature deviations." Hank looked up at his partner, "It's not worth it."

"Minor problems, we'll control it enough to pass the bank inspection." Joe managed to take his hands out of his pockets to wave them nonchalantly in the air.

"Wait a minute, Joe. What about the young couple, they're willing to put up with the different swarms that come down from the north peninsula? The ecosystem specialists have ruled out any type of chemical control on them. They'd end up spending three quarters of their time indoors."

"Come off it Frank, don't be such a fart. This is a chance in a lifetime. You know how hard it is for a young couple today to get their first planet. A little inconvenience is nothing."

"Nothing! Look, I want that couple to be exactly aware of what they are getting into." Hank pointed a warning finger, "don't go showing them only the white sandy beaches and the skiing trails, without explaining the other problems. Don't go bragging about herds of elk that you'll have to remove later anyway. I'm not going to have another Henrietta Marsh on my hands!"

"Not her again! What's it now? The sky not blue enough? Not enough seagulls?" Joe scrunched up his face in disgust. "Her and those damn seagulls, cost me a bundle to get them settled there just because of some ancient flick she experienced. Then she complains about their droppings on her favorite beach!"

"No, she's got a legitimate gripe this time, twenty six hour day. We promised her the standard twenty four."

"Is that all? Tell her to read her fine print. Her contract does not promise anything and that's what counts!"

Hank frowned deeper at his associate. Joe always had an answer for everything and when he didn't, Joe pointed to the fine print on the contract. "Look Joe, you know how important it is to be on standard galactic time. We're engineering with that primarily in mind now. If their hourly days are off, it does hell with their social life. They all want it now. There's talk of legislating standard planet rotations, making SGT a mandatory throughout the galaxy. We'd best placate her, she's a personal friend of Yenz's."

Joe laughed. Heading for the door, he gave his partner the thumbs up. "Don't worry about Yenz, I've got him in my back pocket. His wife won't do without her customized seacruiser. He won't say a word."

"Now wait a minute, Joe. I don't want to hear anymore about your shady dealings with the local politicians. We're going to get into mucho trouble."

Joe was already half out of Hank's office and even if he heard his partner's rumblings, he wouldn't have cared anyways. As far as Joe was concerned, Hank was an old fuddy duddie, an over reactionary. Joe could talk circles around Hank and they both knew it. Joe was going to do, what Joe wanted to do.

Hank was left to brood over his calendar. He had several showings this evening and was meeting with Stan later this morning. Stan, his chief planetary contractor, had several properties he was interested in developing over beyond the Western Skinner sector. It meant the outlay of a lot of exploratory credits, but the engineer promised at least three or four finds just in the first couple of star systems. It meant being able to expand out of the Skinner Sector, something Hank had dreamed about since starting the realty company twelve annuals ago.

He had reports to go over before Stan's arrival. He needed to see about the feasibility of getting amenities out that far. He was pretty sure that the utilities commission would allow for new transmitter avenues to be opened; both personal communications and transport astrogation lines. He wasn't sure that he could convince the interstarlacar services of the profitability of the region. If he couldn't make a case, he'd have trouble getting home buyers. People would not do without the conveniences. Just last week he had lost a sale to a prospective buyer. The family refused to even consider buying a planet that wasn't on a universal satellite receiver route. Galaxy forbid they do without their telecom programs!

Hank felt a moment of guilt, as he hadn't told Joe yet of the project, fearing his partner would insist on cutting corners. Hank had been leaving Joe out of more and more business decisions lately. Henrietta Marsh was right about Joe being rather unscrupulous, but I have to give him his due Hank reflected.

Still he couldn't just dump Joe, loyalty demanded standing by his partner. After all, in the early days it was Joe's unrelenting persistence, his wheeling and dealing, that got them past the tons of regulations and paperwork needed to make a go of developing and selling planetary real estate. However, it was Hank's business sense that kept them solvent, kept them successful. Joe was always broke, always chasing one dream after another despite the consequences; those always came later.

Now that they were successful, however, Hank had become rather uncomfortable with Joe's tactics. Joe Shoort could not make the jump to a legitimate, "don't break the rules" business. Hank's wife kept pointing out that Joe would not feel the same loyalty. My wife warned me in the beginning, he thought. He never did listen to good advice.

Mrs. Cott appeared in the office doorway sporting a concerned look. Hank had a feeling Mrs. Cott wasn't crazy about Joe either. "Anything I can get you?" She inquired, "You feeling OK? The budget for Marcus II is in the system. I've also put in those memos for you to review. Just let me know, when I can telesend them."

Somehow he felt better. He gave her a look of, forever grateful for her efforts, and got a beaming smile in return. The day wasn't so bad after all. Who needs a robot?

No not yet. He needed Mrs. Cott.

Hank rolled his chair around to his sector map set on a large screen upon the back wall, behind his desk. A whole section of the back wall was a hologram of the Skinner border. The rest of the wall contained a two dimensional map. With a tracer point, he sketched his plan to expand into several solar systems; marking in red the star systems he thought viable for engineering environments. If Stan was right, those star systems were crowded with prospective planets, ideal for new planetary development with minimum doctoring; the doctrine for profit.

"Ahem" was the first indicator that someone was in his office. The sound brought his head around.

Standing in front of his desk was a young man. He was dressed in a faded pair of blue jeans, with a Glow Up tee shirt tucked into a slim waist encircled by a frayed rope belt. The tee shirt kept changing from one picture to another; a new fad. Hank's daughter had several shirts that rotated pictures of her favorite rock stars. Hank's stare went from the tee shirt, to the lazer gun that the young man was pointing in his direction.

"Can I help you?" It seemed like a rather stupid thing to say, but now that the words were out, he couldn't take them back.

"Help me! How about helping all those millions you displaced or killed." The man's hair stood straight up, with the tips orange colored in the new fuzz-cut of the young. Despite the severity of the situation, Hank couldn't help thinking how ludicrous it looked.

"Gee, I think you've got the wrong office," Hank meekly answered. He felt almost relieved. Obviously, this asinine looking punk, had gotten the wrong coordinates as Monsen Chemical Company's coordinates were very near his own.

The man looked momentarily confused. "Is this Insuperable Realty?"

"Yes," the moment Hank said it, he realized he shouldn't have.

The look of determination returned to the young face. "Yeah, I got the right place. You Joseph Shoort?"

Hank had gotten his wits back and was not as quick to answer this time, "Why?" He asked.

"I'm asking the questions, not you," he pointed the lazer's barrel at Hank's map, squeezing the trigger, the high energy gun silently disintegrated not only the map, but most of the plaster as well. The wall sizzled quietly, giving the realtor goosebumps.

Thoughts flew through Hank's mind. Did Joe sleep with this guy's wife? sister? Gambling debt? He didn't look like one of their clients, ruling out a real estate problem. "Why are you looking for Joe?"

"So you're not him. Who are you?"

"Why?"

"I'm asking the questions here, not you!" the young intruder waved the gun threateningly, but Hank could tell he was not comfortable with it. He suspected threatening people was not something the kid normally did.

Hank felt his mouth go dry, realizing he hadn't been breathing. He took a deep breath, which only caused the nervous youth to wave the gun again. The kid's finger flexed and Hank's designer trash can disappeared in a puff of smelly smoke.

"How did you get in here?" Hank ventured, hoping to calm the obviously jittery man, who kept his finger tightly wrapped around the trigger.

"You're security system's broken, didn't you know?" The young man sarcastically asked, looking at Hank as if he thought him quite an idiot.

"Got a human office manager," Hank replied, as if that would explain it all. Damn, Hank thought, remembering his bout with the security system earlier. I'm gonna kill Mrs. Cott for not calling; that is, if I'm not dead myself. The thought of survival brought Hank back to thinking about the white buttons on the floor in front of his desk. He started rolling over to them, as he formed a survival plan.

"Wait, stay right there," the young man stressed, again pointing the high intensity energy gun menacingly at Hank. "Don't move, I don't trust you." Just to emphasize that he meant it, Joe's overhead antique light got disintegrated next.

"Hey, that came from Earth!" Hank exploded! Then realizing the stupidity of antagonizing the man further, quickly shut up. Too late, the lazer was lowered to point at him. Hank carefully eyed the man, whose tee shirt had just changed into a pulsating sun with the words, "Save the Universe," blinking on and off. Seeing Hank's interest, the young man grinned, "Neat isn't it?"

"It's similar to one my daughter has."

"Your daughter?" He questioned, "She a SAVE activist?"

"A What?" Hank asked dumbfounded.

"Come on, man. You've never heard of SAVE?" He shook his gun unbelievingly, "You know, Stop Altering Viable Environments."

In the back of Hank's mind, he remembered an evening news report, some time back, about some off the wall group fighting to keep the universe free of any planetary exploitation. "What has that got to do with Joe? He's not an activist?"

"Of course he's not, he's a perpetrator. He destroys, him and this company." The man looked askance at Hank. "I get it, are you his partner, Hank Fizz?"

"Hank Fitz," Hank curtly responded without thinking, annoyed at the mispronunciation of his name. Too late, it dawned on him to deny who he was.

The man took direct aim now, "You are just as guilty and deserve to die, just like all the millions of environments you've destroyed! You scum!"

"Wait a minute!" Hank eyeing the white button, started to get up but the intruder motioned him back down with the gun.

"Don't move I told you!" He shouted at Hank, excitedly twitching. He pointed his gun at Frank's new bronze statue.

Hank quickly yelled, "No, its a Rouen." The young man for the first time looked impressed. Of course, it really was only a replica, but Hank had still paid a great deal for the statue. The man lowered the gun without firing, once again pointing the lazer at the Realtor.

Hank, coming to his senses, sat quickly back down. "Look, let's talk this over. I think you have some misinformation. Sit down."

To his surprise and relief, the youth did just that. Taking one of the three matching white contoured seats, directly in front of the desk, the man looked distrustfully at the Realtor. "Oh yeah? Then you'll probably deny that you developed and sold Husin's Asteroid?"

"Why would I? Of course I sold it. It's a prime property we sold to Oliver Husin, the hydrogen baron. We did a good job on that estate! The planet is a model home, a prime piece of property. Before we started, it was just an erratic large asteroid, that only visited the SS18 star system once every ten years. You talk about taking something worthless and making it into something worthwhile." Hank's pride overcame any fearful quivering his voice had held earlier.

"The planet is gorgeous, and I might add, rich now in all sorts of life, including Husin's private exotic bird collection. He has even established an aviaries university on Evelyn, the moon he named for his wife. We set that in perfect orbit around the asteroid. That wasn't an easy job! We did a lot of fabrication on the asteroid's mass, bringing it up to the proper density to hold that orbit, just to make the whole project feasible."

"Well, la de da." The scorn in the young man's voice clearly did not show any appreciation of a job well done. "What about SK19?" The youth's voice spit out the coordinates.

"SK19?" Hank had to pause for several seconds, as his mind focused on the coordinates. He worked all the time with planetary positions and their subsequent corresponding names. "There isn't any SK19."

"That's right, you destroyed it when you put Husin Asteroid into SK19's star orbit."

Something clicked. That's right, he remembered, its orbit corresponded too closely with the new orbit the asteroid had been placed in. He defended the decision. "That was a dead life planet; inorganic in every sense. Believe me, we investigate every possible combination to see if a planet is salvageable for habitation. Besides we didn't destroy the damn thing, we dragged that cold mass of iron ore over to the salvage area near SK57." Forgetting the gun, he gave his accuser a smug smile; obviously the man had not done his homework.

"The planet had life! You lie and you know it!" This time, he pointed the gun like a finger, directly at Frank's protruding belly. In a dangerously, strange accusing way, he looked very much like a court prosecutor. "The liquid ammonia seas are now solidified chemical ice, freezing all chemical activity, destroying the already unstable precious Amonial Sea Lion molecules that swam freely in its composition."

Hank had heard these arguments before from other environmentalists, who proclaimed all forms of "life" were precious. He supposed their desperate stance stemmed from the lack of intelligent life, which time after time had disappointedly not been found.

Hank decided a little pleading would be in order. "Look, if you examine our record, we have abided by every rule the governor's administration has imposed. We even have our own Noah's Ark program, fully funded by us."

"Right!" The contempt the man had for him, shown all over his young angry face. He again threateningly shoved the gun in Hanks direction, as he continued to disagree with the Realtor. "First, you have bought off every official in this sector. They all look the other way as you pulverize this part of the galaxy, changing planet's masses, rerouting orbits, blowing up asteroids."

The youth took a deep exasperating breath before continuing, "Secondly, the Noah's Ark program you so proudly brag about, has an attrition rate of almost 60% of all the samples that it has taken. Where the hell did that idea come from anyway? You should leave the universe in harmony!"

"Leave the universe in harmony!" Hank's anger was overshadowing his fear. It irritated the hell out of him, these do-gooders who probably never worked a day in their lives. "Look here, do you have any idea how large this universe you're trying to save is?"

There was no reply from the intruder, just another contemptful look. The tee shirt now had changed to read, "Stop the Planetary Destruction."

When no response was forth coming, Hank continued, "It's large enough for all of us. Take your dumb concerns and head out away from Skinner, even out of Hayden's Galaxy. Leave us civilized beings alone." Hank could tell the youth was listening and the thoughtful silence encouraged him to continue, "See how far you get without the world networks we have created. See how many places you can find to live on without our Planetary Engineering. Let me tell you how many!!"

It was Hank's turn to take an irritated pause and point an accusatory finger at the activist. "It's one in fifteen trillion. Think about that! Remember no transport beams to jet between, you'll have to go by ship. Go ahead. Find one." Hank dared.

The Realtor crossed his arms over his chest, giving the armed youth a self-satisfied glare. Hank, still steaming, wasn't done yet, "It's because of WE planetary developers, OUR planetary exploitation's as YOU call them, that WE have gone as far as WE have! Explored as far as WE have! If we abided by your rules, human life would be restricted to a few solar systems. You damn reactionaries wouldn't even be aware of all YOUR so called "life forms" without us. Besides, don't we have our rights too?"

A thin grin stretched across the young man's face, "You know, for someone about to die, you got guts. I'll give you that much."

The statement sobered Hank. In his angry lecture, he had inadvertently rolled much closer to the little white floor buttons. He tried to squirm closer, but the gun came alert again. He stopped, frozen, not willing to take the chance.

The young man, as if absorbing Hank's argument, calmly crossed his legs, striking a rather pensive pose, but still kept the weapon ready, "You know, it really amazes me how you guys can justify anything in your mind. You really believe that bullshit? Why must the stupid rich rule the universe?"

Oh, no! Hank thought, not a social philosopher too! He couldn't fight those age old concepts. Given his circumstances, however, he didn't have much choice but to continue the discussion. He chose his words carefully, as if talking to one of the unsure young couples, that frequented his office, "We sell to first time buyers too. We provide financing for all financial brackets. We were the first to open up suburban Co-op planets. You know, the sharing of an out world planet, it's opened a whole new area for some who couldn't afford a home before."

"Man, are you for real?" The youth actually cracked a smile. "You're doing it for profit, not out of any concern for the poor. Don't try and con me, man. Take a trip into the inner galaxy sphere, regular urban solar systems and share the wealth, man."

Hank had also heard this argument before, it particularly piqued him. Consequently, the rebuttal words came easily, "Look at the inner planet crime rate. Look how they live." He grimaced, as he was reminded of his visits to the inner sphere. "Civilization was not made to have concentrated populations, we can't live like herded animals, we revert to barbarianism." Again, he pointed a finger at the weird looking punk. "That's why, even with the planetary co-op, we limit four to a planet." He leaned forward like he did sometimes to his daughter, as if to push his point across, "I could turn to you and point out, that it is you who are degrading life, while I strive to enhance mankind."

"You guys have all the answers. Move out to the suburbs, leave the poor behind, then you justify the wonton destruction with warped philosophies! It gives you the excuse to go out into the universe and destroy, in the name of civilization."

Hank could just about reach the white buttons, but he quieted when the youth noticed. "Stop fidgeting, you're making me nervous! By the way, my name is Marvin... " He paused a second, as if he wasn't quite sure, "Marvin Micki. I think you should know that before I shoot you."

Hank pondered his next move. If he could keep the kid talking, maybe he could talk him out of this. Obviously, it wasn't something Marvin did every day, or even wanted to do. "Tell me, what do you plan to do after you shoot me?"

"Go on telescan, making an example out of you should make our cause known clear across several galaxies, maybe even to the capital!"

"Don't count on it, kid. I'm not that important."

"It's not you that's important, it's the principal. Your destruction will make other developers think twice."

This guy's crazy, crazy, Hank thought as he had edged close enough that the tip of his shoe was almost at the buttons. He'd have to make a jump for it. If only the kid would look away. Stall for time, "OK, what do you want, not to shoot me?" Hank had developed a huge headache; being under death duress was taking its toll, the day already had been quite a total disaster.

"I want this company to stop playing with the universe, leave it alone. For starters, go public, cancel your developing plans for SK110."

"That will be real easy." Hank replied with a grin. "We aren't operating in SK110, the whole sector is off limits. For once we agree."

"Oh, then why are you scheduling several exploratory vac explosions, starting day after tomorrow, to clear a path to the sector?"

"What are you talking about? Now I know you have some incorrect information." Hank, finally had something concrete, something he could confidently use to confuse his assailant, perhaps convince the youth that he also was wrong about his other information also.

Marvin did look rather puzzled. Hank took it for a good sign, plunging further with his explanation, "I know those coordinates are off limits, by the ruling of Commissioner Yenz, due to the instability of the star systems involved. The area has one of the few Nova rings left this side of the galaxy, maybe this side of the universe. The rings could be destroyed if the balance was upset."

"As if you cared." The youth scornfully interjected.

Undaunted Hank continued, "I'm not denying there are some delightful planetary prospects in that area. I assure you however, we have no plans to violate that rule. I enjoy the rings as much as anyone."

In reply, the environmentalist youth reached into his glow up shirt. He couldn't find whatever he was looking for, and had to turn his gaze away from Hank. The Realtor edged closer to his desk, his foot hovered above the buttons when the threatening gun returned as the object was found.

Marvin, using his free hand, held out a copy screen. Hank tried to lean closer, but the gun went threateningly up, stopping him as Marvin explained. "This is a contract signed by a Joe Shoort, giving 500,000 credits to Universal Demolition to clear SS119 through SS120."

"What!!" Hank now did lean forward, forgetting the white buttons, forgetting the gun, just concentrating on the document the youth held up. "That Son of a Bi...."

Mrs. Cott had entered the office, unnoticed by either the Realtor or intruder. Her voice startled both of them. "Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Fitz, I didn't know you had someone in here."

Hank snapped out of his anger quickly, bringing his foot squarely down on the white buttons. He watched as the youth also came alive, losing his grip on the gun which fell and began indiscriminately firing.

Hank gasped, waiting for the pain. Instead the face of the intruder became blurred as the force field, now surrounding the white contoured chair absorbed the lazer, spreading the gun's energy throughout the shield, blurring the protection screen to opaqueness for a few seconds.

The youth realizing what had happened, frantically looked for his weapon and started to pound on his confining cell, shouting muffled obscenities.

"Please call the authorities Mrs. Cott." Hank told his secretary, collapsing back into his own chair. "You know those chairs are the only time I've ever taken my wife's advice, purchasing the protection seats only to placate her. She was worried about Joe's temper."

Mrs. Cott, white as a sheet, hurried from the room. It wasn't long before two uniformed police entered, and after a few questions, with the promise of more to come, crossed to take the youth, force field and chair into custody. "I wouldn't have shot him; I was just trying to scare him." Marvin screamed through the force field as they started taking him away.

Hank, now somewhat recovered, watched as they rolled the intruder, still sitting in the chair, out of the office. "Bye, Marvin." He quipped, feeling the euphoria of being alive and thankful for even having the feeling of a headache. For a few seconds, he just sat and enjoyed breathing, yet something plagued the back of his mind. A feeling of guilt entered from the depths of his brain, finding its way into Hank's consciousness. He jumped up, rushing out, into the outer office, getting there just as Mrs. Cott was trying, unsuccessfully, to get the security system all the way down for the police to leave.

"Wait," he shouted. Leaning down between the two officers, he came eye to eye with the sitting Marvin. "I promise to look into it, I do. If what you say is true, I'll stop the demolition path."

"We have to leave Mr. Fitz." The officer firmly put his hand on Hank's shoulder. "Don't bother with this crazy person."

Hank watched as they entered the transporter with Marvin, still sitting in the chair, sandwiched between them. The young crazy man looked up catching Hank's eye, for a few seconds all animosity left both their stares. Marvin began to blur, heading toward jail, his shirt switched to read "We all live together" and his hand was spread toward Hank displaying the peace sign. Hank spread his fingers too, hoping Marvin had seen him do so. He let out his breath, maybe he could live with himself after all.

Hank pivoted to return. Ca-Thupp. "Ahhh... Damn!" Mrs. Cott's shoes again came up to eye view. "Oh Mr. Fitz are you OK! I'll call right now!"

Well... maybe. Naw!

THE END

# UNIVERSE UNIVERSITY

or GOOD OLD U.U.

Pj Belanger

Why? Why am I here? I asked myself again as the Reptilian Intermarriage Studies door passed on my left. Sure, I thought, give the snakes a whole suite of offices to slither around in. To my right was Mossoarie's Planetary Systems Studies, they not only have a suite of offices but a private laboratory for their high flying professors. I walked down the long corridor at the end taking a left into a small closet, the door proudly proclaiming- Human Studies, Prof. Kevin Sholl. My domain of two rooms, small rooms. As I entered the outer workroom, my assistant looked up and smiled. Well, she tried to smile. "Almost got it, Hassa, bring the corners of your mouth up just a little more. Use those cheek muscles."

"It's SHIRLEY," she sternly remarked, losing any resemblance of the smile, returning to the Curthian grimace that came natural to her species. "Come on Professor Sholl at least try to remember."

"I'm sorry," I had trouble remembering which Earth name she'd taken this week. "Why Shirley?"

"Shirley Temple." She put her hands on her hips. A very human gesture, I thought, but then Curthian's were closely linked genetically to us anyway. The similarities and interactions between humans and other species was my specialty. The half-smile graced Hassa's facial features again, "I told you I'm going over your archives on early Terrain film making," her voice was deep and rich as Curthian's possess a voice box similar to ours, "Earth 2022, Producer Spielberg, "Heidi." Movie adaptation of the Heidi book."

"I don't think you have it quite right, Shirley." I tried to bring to memory my old film library, my passionate hobby. "Better check those dates, think you'll find the child actor was earlier- think mid-20th century Earth. Spielberg came later I believe."

The grimace returned even deeper. "Damn, I'll check. It's so complicated. They had a short life span back then! "

"I have to grade those mid-terms by this afternoon. Don't let anyone bother me." I crossed over to my office, crossing the room in all of two strides, entering my executive suite, closing the door as I did so. As small as the outer cubicle was, my personal office made it look big. I had space for a desk and a file cabinet. I squeezed into my chair.

I called up my student's papers on the computer screen- all ten of them. Human Studies was not big at U.U. To keep my sanity, I often had to recall the Dean of Studies words, "You're department will grow, after all you humans are relatively new to the Alliance and haven't made your mark yet."

How could we? We were ignored. Literally! Sure, we had seats in the Assembly, two seats like everyone else but the older races, more established, pretended we weren't there. I felt my face flushing with anger, it was hard this close to the center of the universal government and so far from the Human Star System Clusters. Why am I here? I asked myself again. I'd had a good career on Lunate University, the biggest university in the Cluster. I had tenure, perhaps even next in line for the Chairmanship. Like an ass, I traversed half across the universe to come here! Here, where I was the only human on campus with a fanatical Curthian assistant who wished she was human! How did the saying go, "Nothing worse than a human who thinks he can make a difference."

We were one of the few species that had optimism in our repertoire. It only made the rest of the universe community look upon us as "dreamers" and "emotionally unstable". I was sick of hearing the comment from my colleagues at U.U., that time is needed for humans to develop.

"Dr. Sholl," Hassa was at the door, ears bent forward in a look of concern. I'd come to know Curthian looks very well, "are you OK?" she asked.

"Oh, yeh. I'm just going to start on those papers. Don't worry Hassa... Shirley." I smiled, she tried to smile back, she was getting closer.

"I brought you a cup of coffee." She put down a steaming cup of a brew I knew did not taste like coffee but I thanked her anyway. Hassa was always trying to make me human dishes, often they tasted just like all the university food, bland. Humans were one of the few species that had taste buds, most depended on smell. She was turning to leave when I noticed her outfit. "Hassa what the heck are you wearing?"

"Isn't it nice?" She turned slowly around. Curthians are changelings. Their normal shape is tall, long, extremely thin bodies with little arms and very long legs. However, they can shape their bodies slightly, having soft bones and gel like innards. Hassa, a fanatic about humans, had changed her body to resembling the shorter stockier more curved human woman. Of course, I never knew which exact human woman she'd be week to week as it took that long for her to change her body shape. "I so love human bodies and they are so imaginative with their outer garments. Curthians don't know what they're missing not wearing clothes."

I looked at her outfit. Purple striped blouse with a polka dot green tie and huge flowered pants. My eyes hurt. Worse she had a pair of stockings over the pants. She didn't have any shoes on and her feet had only three toes. Lovely. "Hassa, sorry Shirley, the stockings go under the pants." I didn't bring up the feet.

"They do! How stupid... how are they going to protect the pants that way?"

She left bewildered. I did not have the time to explain the history of human fashion. She'd be at the films all afternoon as it was. In a moment of weakness, I thought that one of these days I'd take her to ancient Earth. Show her where all the movies started. Now what was I thinking!

I was on my third essay when my door flew open. A large Bassondian was standing blocking the doorway. I could hear Hassa behind him, trying to get by, having little luck considering the size of the reptile. "GOOSIF OUTZIF OUKTEL! LIDIOST."

I held up my hand for him to wait, reaching into my pocket I brought out my translator. Hooking it to my collar, I turned it on, nodding for him to continue. "May I come in Dr. Sholl?" his deep throaty voice translated in my ear.

"I believe you already are in, Inspector Gooseif." He was over seven feet tall and he made two of me. I knew of him because of his high cabinet post in our sector, he was head of the Assembly's police force, came from a very distinguished family and a great benefactor of the college.

Somehow Hassa had managed to squeeze past him, "I'm sorry Dr. Sholl, he just barged right by me. Would you like me to show him out?" I couldn't imagine how she'd get the huge reptile to move.

"No, it's OK. Get the inspector a chair." I would have gotten it myself but it took a little while to maneuver out of my chair.

"What? Human?" Gooseif asked watching her leave after getting him his chair. He took up so much of my office space that we couldn't shut the door.

"My assistant. She's a Curthian studying Human Intergalactic Relations. She practices being human, just to get the feel of it."

"Oh. Curthian's strange breed. Rare, aren't they?" Bassodians tend to think of all the species, other than their own, as animals. Their only salvation is that they don't realize they are doing it, thus they don't come off as haughty just stupidly proud.

Keeping any sarcasm out of my voice I answered, "Yes, there's less than 200 million in the known universe. Some say they're related to humans."

He didn't know quite what to say, as he didn't think that was such a compliment either, so I let him squirm a little while before asking him, "Why do you do me the honor of a visit?"

His bulging eyes settled on me, a good many of the university's administrators were Bassodians and I was use to their inability to focus on one object, both eyes acted independently but he managed to focus both on me. "I need your help."

"My help?" Now what could a Bassodian want with an inferior human being, I thought sarcastically but managed not to let it show on my face. "I can't imagine what I can help you with." "

It's a rather delicate situation." As he leaned forward, I heard the chair creak from the weight. I prayed the chair would hold, it would be rather embarrassing picking up a four hundred pound lizard. He didn't seem to notice, however, as he continued speaking softly "No doubt you've heard of the Galatical Assembly Meeting next cycle being held over at the Timexis Nebulae space station?"

I hadn't, but then I wasn't going to admit to him this human's ignorance. I just nodded. He continued, "Everyone of any importance will be there." Well that let me out, I thought, again just nodding. "The president will be there and security will be tight."

I wished he'd get to the point; I still had seven more essays to do before the late afternoon deadline. Like all Bassodians he wasn't in a hurry. Their species like to take their time, ponder, real big thinkers. I noticed his left eye wandered to my window. "As I was saying, security will be tight but we've gotten through our sources..." he paused, probably letting this human catch up.

"Yes?" I prompted him.

"Our sources say that there will be an assassination attempt, the President may be in grave danger."

Now it hardly seems surprising, I thought to myself, after all, the President has a high profile job, unlike that of a Human Studies Professor. Instead of stating the obvious, I put just the right influx and said, "No!"

He seemed to be encouraged by my outburst for he actually talked faster, "Yes, we are concerned."

"I can see why inspector, but surely you've handled these rumors before..."

"Yes but it is reportedly being planned by humans..."

"I still don't see what that has to do with me. I can hardly be a suspect, I wasn't even invited to this Assembly meeting." I was rambling and knew it but I wasn't getting the lizard's point, "and to be quite honest Inspector, I doubt if humans are planning any such thing, it wouldn't be to their advantage to piss off the Assembly right now." Again rambling but I felt I should at least stick up for my fellow humans.

"Ah is that how humans think? Would they not bother, are they so insecure?" He leaned even closer, as if the idea that humans could think at all was new. "You see, that is why we need you. We know little of humans and have no inner connections to advise us and you personally know Councilman Rhine."

The light bulb just flashed brilliantly in my brain. Of course, what he really was saying was that they never considered humans smart enough to need to infiltrate and now had no idea what the humans may be planning. He wanted me to tell him how humans thought, especially my old friend Carl Rhine!

"Inspector," my feelings were a little ruffled, "for one thing, I think you've probably been misinformed. I rather doubt that there is a human plot to assassinate the president and if there was it would be rather disjointed considering there are very few human in this part of the galaxy. Believe me I know, I'm the only one for 40 parsees in any direction. How many humans are being allowed to attend this meeting?"

"Four," he told me, his eyes both again rested on me.

"Four! And you're afraid you cannot protect the President. And believe me Councilman Rhine would not be part of any plot!" This time I could not keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"My sources are very good, Professor Sholl. Normally, you are right, I would not be worried but this informant has never failed me." The pompous Bassondian prejudices came ringing through my translator, irritating the hell out of me.

"Well your sources are wrong this time!" I'd had enough. "I'm really busy."

The inspector was at a loss. "You will not help me?" boomed into my ear.

"No, I think not," I calmly replied.

He stood up, the chair tipping back into the other room bringing Hassa hurrying over. He brushed past her, almost knocking her over in his hurry to leave. "Well how rude!"

Her head going back indignantly in an attempt at imitating one of the films she'd recently viewed.

"Rude is only a human feeling," I dryly commented, "to a Bassondian it's a common way of life." I went back to grading, sourly thinking it was time to swallow my pride, admit I wasn't making a hell of a lot of difference here and head for home.

I was on my fifth essay when Hassa interrupted, "Dean Z just called, he wants you in his office as soon as possible."

"Inspector Gooseif is quick," I said aloud, silently thinking I probably won't have to resign as I'm probably going to be fired. Dislodging myself from my desk, passing a worrying looking assistant, I headed toward the dean's office on the lower floor of the building. I walked past his outer offices, his several assistants looking up as I hurried past them. His secretary just nodded me in as I crossed his reception area right into his large luxurious office.

Dean Z isn't really a bad guy and to the human ear he's pleasant to listen to even without a translator. I had my translator on so instead of chirping, I heard a rather high pitched voice, "Please sit down professor."

Since Z had to deal with a multitude of species, his office contained several types of chairs and I picked one that fit my human body. "I'd like to explain," speaking slowly as I knew my translator took a long time to translate into chirps.

He held up one wing, "No, let me explain first." He was short and extremely thin even with his layers of feathers, most of his species were slender or they'd never be able to fly. He swayed slightly on his perch, as if thinking his words carefully before he said them, "I asked you to come to the University because I believed your species would rapidly become an important part of the galactic community. Many underestimate you humans because they associate youth with underdevelopment."

"I don't think..."

Again he held his wing up, "Let me finish. You humans really need to learn patience! Many underestimate what I call the 'human spirit'. Never have I seen such a species with the ability to adapt so quickly. I believe it's your endless inquisitive minds that must know everything! Must experience everything! Never satisfied with the status quo!"

His voice had become a shrill even with the interpreter translating. However, he seemed to collect himself, standing on one claw, a bird like gesture I knew to be one of deep thinking. "The Bassondians are very old, unlike you humans who have developed under two million of your standard years, in comparison they are three billion of your years old. Do you not understand why they do not take your kind seriously?'

I nodded. I was much aware that humans were considered an extremely young species. "It does not excuse their attitude, Sir. If time was the gauge of maturity the Hippithians would be by far the most advanced, they've been developing for an estimated fifteen billion years. I need not point out they just left their solar system one million years ago and were granted Assembly status just a half a million years ago. We, on the other hand, managed it in a much quicker rate."

"Yes, yes as you say," Dean Z ruffled his feathers in agreement. "Still we are dealing with exceptions and you humans are exceptions, big exceptions! The Assembly has not realized just how much an exception you truly are. It is to your advantage that they do not, for they do not realize just how big a threat your race is."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "We're not a threat to anyone. We can hardly manage our own star systems and are greatly outnumbered...we aren't..."

"Ah, Chirp," he politely interrupted, "someone obviously thinks you are, why else would Inspector Goosleif suspect humans if someone did not put the thought into his head."

"I didn't think of that."

"Humans are so fiercely proud, like the Bassondians it gets in the way of common sense and analytical thinking. I am thankful we of the avian race have no such pretensions." Being compared to the reptilians didn't improve my disposition any. Yet there was truth in his words and I listened more carefully when he spoke again. "It would behoove you to cooperate with the Inspector or have you not thought of the consequences?"

"Consequences?" I asked. "What consequences?"

"If the inspector finds a conspiracy or if the humans do indeed assassinate the President." I shook my head at the ridiculousness of his words.

"Do not miss the point Professor Sholl." He flapped his tail feathers, I quieted, knowing his tail shaking was an angry impatient sign. Seeing me stop, he continued, "Either way, the human delegation will not come out favorably and he will now keep a continuous eye on them, blocking any attempt for further development in the assembly. It would be a real shame."

"Why do you say that? Why do you not fear us if you believe us so dangerous?"

He seemed to settle down on his perch, again swinging ever so slightly. "The old races rule the Assembly. They are unimaginative, dull and truly predictable. You humans are like a new wind that lets us soar to new heights. I would like not to see you pushed aside to be ignored or worse, stymied in your development."

"Is that why you brought me here?" It had been Dean Z who had come to Lunate University to convince me to take the job.

"Yes." I could have sworn his beak smiled but it could only have been my imagination. "There will be little stopping you humans. The University and its ruling assembly had best be prepared. Please think over you decision to help the Inspector. We've made you a guest speaker at the meeting, think of the possibilities?"

"I suppose I should go," I capitulated; the dangling carrot of being a speaker was rather enticing.

"Good, I knew you would see it that way. At least you humans can be reasoned with." He was swinging quite widely now, softly warbling. "My secretary has already called your assistant, who should have all the arrangements made. By the way, please finish your finals before you leave."

I left shaking my head. Why am I here! I moaned again as I hurried back up to my office. Hassa was nowhere to be seen but a note was left on my desk. Professor Sholl- booked on Starlite Cruiser late today, per Dean K. Finish your finals- I'll be back with your suitcases packed- Shirley.

Thank you Hassa, human or not you are a jewel. I plowed through the last of the essays, sending them on their way by mid-afternoon. I was just getting ready to go get something to eat when Shirley, nee Hassa, came waltzing in, arms loaded with suitcases. Dumping them on the floor, she slumped into her chair. "We're all set."

"We're? Explain Hassa!" I noticed a few flowery boxes and three suitcases that weren't mine.

"SHIRLEY!" She reminded me. "Of course I'm going with you. You'll need an assistant. How would it look Professor? You a guest speaker and no assistant!" She smugly looked at me, appearing very much like a human female, batting her eyes, cocking her head, "Besides, Dean K said I should go!"

So we dragged my one bag and her five down to the space port. As we left, I looked back at the University and its community. It was the only spot developed on Hitz's Asteroid as the University owned the whole land mass and prevented any further settlements not associated with the institution. Hassa had booked the seat next to me, she was busy reading her telescreen, I caught glimpses of humanarian landscapes and cities. Her hand rested lightly on my arm, despite my resolve to be of a serious nature, as we humans are consider light minded, I smiled at the show of the affectionate familiarity that she showed towards me. Although, I had formed several close friendships at the University, very few species knew human affection, Hassa did, and I appreciated it. I had never valued my friendship before, taking them for granted. We humans take our humanity much too lightly.

The trip was quick, as the Timexis Nebulae space station was only a galaxy over. We had to circle the airport for quite a while as the traffic, due to the meeting, was heavy. It gave Hassa the chance to change into a very contemporary jump suit; she looked extremely human, normal human that is to say. We both wore the heavy gravit boots as the space station was free fall. When we emerged down the ramp into the space port's lobby Inspector Gooseif was there waiting for us.

"Glad you decided to make it professor." I nodded up to his seven foot frame. "The humans' delegation is arriving later today. I will be in touch with you through my assistant here." His assistant slithered up next to him. "This is Rhia, who will escort you to the Casito Hotel, the conference is being held there. I have much to do. I will expect results from you Professor Sholl!"

Before I could answer he'd plowed his way back through the crowd, everyone cleared a path as the Bassodians don't have courtesy even in their vocabulary. Rhia pulled herself up to my height. "Please excuse my boss, he tends to think only of the task at hand. He's taking this assassination attempt very seriously. You'll like your hotel, they are known for multi-specie tolerance. Your rooms even have the right grav pull. Although at the conference you will have to wear your grav boots. I believe it is set at grav level four., oxy 3 for breathing."

Gooseif's assistant was obviously of the female gender as my translator put a sweet pleasant voice in my ear. Sinozians, or snake people (as we human have nicknamed them) tend to be extremely polite. Their culture is so different than humans that relations tended to be strained. Sinozians, while being courteous, could also plain lie to your face and think nothing of it. They tended to think in results, not how you get there, as long as you get there. There was a saying among humans: Don't believe you're getting anything from a Sinozian until you have it in your hand, and take a close look to make sure.

Rhia led us to the hotel, making sure we were settled before leaving. I hadn't even unpacked when there was a knock at my door. Roger Hastik stood there smiling. "I don't believe you made it as a speaker!" He was smiling from ear to ear. I shook his hand heartily.

"I didn't know you'd be here." I said, looking at the old associate of mine. "How's Lunate U?"

"Not the same without you. You broke a lot of hearts when you left." He laughed as he came into the room. "I'm here with Councilman Rhine, he asked me to come along to advise him on the customs of the Assembly. We were surprised to learn you were here. He's looking forward to seeing you."

I'd worked for Rhine before. I admired the man greatly; he was one of our two Councilmen representatives at the Assembly. He'd consulted with me several times at Lunate University and I wasn't surprised he'd turned to Roger once I was at the other side of the Universe.

"How do you like UU?" Roger asked.

"It's OK, but I miss the human contact. It's something I never expected. I thought I'd be so busy intermingling with the others at the University that I'd not notice. But I really have. If it wasn't for Hassa..."

As if hearing her name, Hassa appeared in the doorway. She had changed into a gorgeous evening dress and had tailored her body to fit it. Her long white hair lay draped about her shoulders. "Oh, I didn't know you had company," she purred in her sweet Curthian voice.

"Hello there!" Roger stood, his eyes eagerly taking in the low cut dress. "And who are you?"

"This is Hassa." I replied, a little disturbed by his gawking look. "She's my assistant back at UU."

"Shirley!" Hassa looked angrily at me.

Roger glanced at me strangely. "Shirley Hassa." I stammered, "She's, she's a..."

"I'm very glad to meet you." She went over taking his hand, a big smile on her face. Right on the mark, Hassa, I proudly thought deciding right then and there not to tell Roger she was a Curthian. Let her have her fun.

"The councilman has brought his own cook, how about joining us for dinner?" He looked at Hassa, almost leaving me out. "I bet you haven't had good food in quite a while."

"Oh, I make Professor Sholl human food all the time." Hassa informed him.

Roger looked appraisingly at me, "Why I see you're still breaking hearts Kevin."

Back at Councilman Rhine's suites we snacked on pizza and beers. I could tell Hassa liked both and had to gently lead her away from another glass of beer, as I noticed she was having trouble walking after only one glass. "Hassa, the drink is alcoholic, it causes a chemical imbalance in your brain."

"Why do you drink it then?" she whispered, suppressing a hiccup.

"Never mind, don't have any more! And don't have any more pizza, your stomach isn't use to the spices, you'll get sick," I told her sternly.

"Quite an honor for you my boy," Rhine was commenting as I led Hassa to the couch where everyone had congregated. There was Councilman Rhine, and our second Councilwoman Lauren Mulch, consultant Roger Hastik, and public relations manager, Paul Tolde. "How did you manage to be appointed a speaker? I know you are talented and one of the leading authorities on specie interactions but still..."

"I guess I was in the right place at the right time, Councilman," I responded lightly hoping he wouldn't pursue it too much.

"It's so important that the Assembly realize that we should all share equally in the ruling of the known Universe. God created only certain types of species for a reason, all should share equally in what he has provided."

I knew Councilman Rhine's view was shared by most of the human community. It was all based on the fact that all intelligent species found thus far were oxygen breathing, carbon based. All breathed air in some form or another, thus all could communicate in a fashion and all could live together with minor adjustments. Bassodians, for example, almost always wore extra oxygen belts on many worlds because their need of a higher richer mixture. Humans were smaller and on many planets needed to wear grav boots. Not all the Avarian species could fly on all the planets. The snake people had trouble moving around many planets preferring desert type terrains, but they managed like all the rest of us.

"What do you think, Kevin? Kevin?" Rhine was talking to me. I snapped to attention as my thoughts had rambled during his lecture on God's intentions.

"Sorry, I'm rather tired, had finals and all. I think you have a very good point, sir," I stammered, trying to recover and remember what the councilman was indeed talking about. "Tell me what do you think of President Hxitxs?" I said, changing the subject as quickly as I could.

"For a Bassodian, he isn't too bad. Can be rather thick and of course very resistant to change." Rhine, a former college professor in political science, had an in-depth opinion on everything. "The problem with the whole assembly is that the Bassodians have too much power, they tend to want to keep everything the same, not letting newer, fresher approaches even be discussed."

"Well, how can we change that?" I asked.

"Shoot them!" Councilman Mulch said laughing, her pretty face was nice to look at especially to a human who'd been stranded on an island with only lizards, birds and snakes for company. She had a nice figure to go along with that pretty face too. She was a little too large busted for my taste but I'd gladly overlook that minor flaw. She saw me looking at her and smiled. I wondered if she was married.

"Don't even joke about that, Lauren!" Councilman Rhine sternly reminded his junior colleague. "Inspector Gooseif had every one of the delegate's luggage checked. The man's paranoid and of course being a Bassodian, he's rude."

"He's only doing his job," Roger explained. "There is a lot of discontent coming from the delegates."

"Are we discontent?" I innocently asked.

"Not really," Lauren spoke first, "as long as they let us run our Clusters our way."

"That's what's important," Carl Rhine interjected. "They seem to ignore us, which is fine for at this point we don't really need the Assembly."

"But," I continued the thought for him, "at some time we will.."

"Yes, of course," Rhine laughed. "But right now we don't need their trade routes and we are still feeling our way with some of their advance technology. It is their attitude toward us that is hard to take. Humans do not like to feel inferior but we can swallow our pride for a while. You should know that better than any, Professor Sholl. Leaving a prestigious job for a minor post."

"Please, let's not go into that!" I patted my stomach, glad to have good human food in it.

"It will be worth it in the end," he patted me on the shoulder. "I have no doubt you are the rock that our relationship with the other species will be based upon. I look forward to your book on the subject, when you are an old man and I will be even older!" he laughed.

It was a good way to end a long day. Hassa had fallen asleep on my shoulder, I gently woke her up, escorting a drowsy assistant back to her room. Roger had winked at me as I'd left. I was amused but only slightly. When I got Hassa back into the room, she headed straight for the bathroom. I could hear her losing the pizza and beer and felt slightly guilty. When she reemerged she was pale white, "you can leave Professor," she weakly said, "I'll be alright."

I started to go but couldn't, she looked too pathetic. I helped her undress, finding myself averting my eyes, she really did look invitingly human. Getting her into bed, I covered her up. I took her hand waiting for her to fall asleep and felt her hand squeeze mine. I awoke in the middle of the night sore and stiff, sitting on the floor, my head resting on the bed, my hand still holding Hassa's. She was sound asleep and breathing softly. I slowly extricated my hand and tip toed out of the room into mine next door, falling exhausted into my own bed.

It was Lieutenant Rhia that awoke me early the next day. The snakewoman was standing over me, poking me awake. There is nothing worse than the first thing you see in the morning is a scaly slit eyed face, hissing reptile head, inches from your nose. As my eyes came into focus, I jumped up and rolled over to the other side of the bed, jumping out the other side. Tripping, I fell flat on my rump. Rhia slithered over to me, by then I realized where I was and who was in the room with me. "What the hell are you doing in my room!" I yelled.

"SSSEEESSSSSEESSSESS...SSSSSSSiiisssssss."

"Wait." I groped my way over to the night stand, putting my translator on.

"Why are you so startled? Inspector Gooseif said I would be contacting you." The snake now made sense.

"Did you ever hear of knocking? Calling?" I looked over at the door, the safety lock was undone. "How did you get in here?"

"I have the keys to all doors, have we forgot that I am security, Professor?" I could have sworn the damn Sinozian was smiling at my discomfort.

"Next time knock. We prefer our privacy." I knew I was not making sense, Sinozians had no sense of individuality. I shrugged it off. "Why did you want to see me?"

"Did you get any information from your meeting with the humans last night?"

"Yes. It is as I suspected. There is no plot among these humans to do anything to the President." I got my robe on headed for the bathroom. I sensed the snake following. "Stay where you are! Let me take a shower and get some clean clothes on, then we'll talk. Order breakfast, will you please?"

"Gladly, Professor. Will Soft Bugs be OK or do you prefer Long Grain?" The Snake had slithered over to the telepromp.

"Coffee or if they don't have that I'll settle for Telsa Brew. A muffin, any kind." I shut the door. Why am I here?

When I came out, Hassa had arrived and so had the coffee. Real coffee! The snake was munching on something, I decided to ignore the Sinozian and enjoy the rare muffin treat. However, the snake had other ideas. "Tell me Professor, you think there is no danger from the humans?"

"None," I told her, "none whatsoever."

"Good, because they have a private meeting with the President this morning and Inspector Gooseif wants you to be there."

"Fine. If Councilman Rhine doesn't have any objections, I would love to meet President Hxitxs."

With a nod, the Sinozian left. I was glad, the snake made me feel uneasy. I chalked it up to the natural uneasiness Humans had with creatures of that kind, although I didn't feel that way with the Bassodian nor any of the other species. Hassa broke into my thoughts, "I don't like that cop."

"I agree," I smiled at her. "How's the stomach feeling today?" Then before she could answer I noticed her outfit. It was a suit but she was extremely well endowed. "You changed shape? How'd you do it so quick and why did you change to that shape!"

She could tell by my voice I was not pleased. Hassa dropped the smile she'd been trying to keep up and the old familiar pouting frown now dressed her face. "Don't you like? It's just like Councilman's L-A-U-R-E-N's." She stretched out Lauren's name sarcastically.

If I didn't know Hassa so well, I'd have thought she was jealous, then maybe again, "I don't like, NO!" I was irritated. I kinda liked the old Hassa.

"Oh, I thought you were so attentive to her last nigh, I..." tears flowed from her large Curthian eyes. I'd never seen her cry before, ever.

"Hassa, please. I'm sorry," I held up my hands in apology, "I think Lauren is rather attractive but I really prefer you... anyway you want to be. OK? Anyways, it usually takes you a week to change so much..."

"I can change rather rapidly in Free Fall, no gravity. I got up early and went outside..."

"Well, do me a favor and go back. If they see you like that, they'll know." I explained. "Unless you want them to know."

"No, I rather like being thought of as a human. And this shape was rather uncomfortable. Your Dr. Roger likes me." She made a big effort to smile and I was glad to see it.

"You'd better get dressed." I went over to retrieve my room key I'd left on my other night stand. I dropped it and when bending down I saw something under the bed. It was a piece of paper on the floor. I picked it up, it had big flowers printed on it. "Looks like the Sinozian must have dropped this when I startled it this morning." I fingered the crinkled crumpled up paper, glimmering, like a piece of pretty wallpaper. I threw it in the garbage as we walked out the door. "There's nothing written on it, must be a piece of fancy note paper."

Down in the lobby I waited for Hassa to change her shape. Inspector Gooslief came thundering over to me. "President Hxitxs sees the humans this morning. Rhia thinks it might be a good idea for you to see him first. Might give him an insight to what to expect."

I was surprised, I had gotten the feeling that the snake was not too fond of me. Well, so much for insight and I was supposed to be the expert. Hassa came waltzing back in, looking like yesterday's model, her gray boots even matched her suit. She was getting much better. She followed the inspector and me down to the Bassodian suites. Gravity was very light here as they were twice the size of humans. "How do they keep the different gravities?" I asked. I'd never been on a space station before. Of course the main assembly rooms were free fall.

"See those tubes on the wall?" Gooslief pointed to some round cylinders with grills over them. I nodded. "Put your hand right up to one of them."

I did and was surprised to feel a strong suction as I neared the grill. "They pulsate to the outside. The circular suction and the rotation cause the area to simulate the grav pull. Thus the higher the suction the lower the grav pull. Obviously our bodies have more mass than most, so we need a lower gravity to make us comfortable."

I didn't get to question any further as we'd gotten to the President's suite of rooms. Guards were everywhere. "You're not going to search me?" I asked the Inspector.

"We have searched everything coming into this hotel. I am certain nothing has gotten thru." He sounded like a pompous Bassodian, normal ass.

Presiden Hxitxs was already in what appeared to be the living room. He was huge even for a Bassodian. "Good day, Professor Sholl. I want to thank you for being so cooperative in this investigation."

"My pleasure, Sir." I lied but after all he was the President. Hassa was right behind me and I introduced her, "Shirley Hassa, my assistant."

"Nice to meet you. Curthian aren't you? A rarity, a pleasure," he was gracious, amazing for a reptile.

"Yes but we are really just humans, you know," she smiled, beautifully, a full human smile.

"I'd heard that postulated and you feel it is true?" He sounded interested, my admiration grew, I could see why Rhine liked him.

"Yes, I really do," she explained. "I believe we evolved into changelings because our planet is such low gravity. "Perhaps we were one of the early Earth settlers."

"Interesting theory," he said.

My eyes, however, were on a package that was on a table near the couch. "What's that, Sir?" I asked.

"Why, it was in here when I arrived. A present I believe from the humans. They are due here any moment but I wanted to meet you first Professor. I have read your book on the Interaction of the Species."

Any other time I would have been flattered and falling all over myself but I recognized the wrapping paper and so did Hassa. She started to say, "isn't that the paper..."

I didn't hear anything else because I was looking frantically around. I saw the tubes in the wall. "Help me!" I screamed running over to the grate, pulling as hard as I could. Thank god they were not secured tightly, as it came off in my hand. "Throw me the package. I think it's a bomb." Hassa use to my orders did it exactly as I ordered. The package at first just slowly inched into the hole, then as the suction got hold, I watched it float down the tube. Hurry my mind screamed..

"What... What is going on!" I heard the president ask.

"Get down, Mr. President." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Gooseif throw the president to the floor. Then there was such an explosion and jolt that I found myself on the floor sprawled next to Hassa.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

It took her a few seconds to answer, "Yes, I think so."

The room was filled with security guards. They were all fussing over the president, who seemed fine except perhaps a little disoriented. I tried to get up but my hand was not functioning, I'd broken it during my fall. Hassa helped me up.

Inspector Gooseif was at my side. "How did you know? Which human?"

"No human, you asshole!" I exploded as my hand was throbbing. "It's your damn assistant Rhia. I found a piece of that wrapping paper in my room, right where she awoke me, but it was under the bed." Then it dawned on me why. "She left it there figuring she'd use it to prove that I had something to do with killing the president. Especially since she suggested I be here. As it is, I didn't think anything of finding the paper, I'm sure she didn't think I'd see it under the bed."

"What?" A dark look came over the Bassodian. Nothing worse than an angry reptile. "It explains much," his voice came over loudly in my ear translator. "That package got past security and Rhia would be able to do it."

"Who told you it was a human plot?" I asked, knowing the answer before he could tell me.

"Rhia." His voice was full of anger, I didn't even need a translator.

One of the security guards, came over to Gooseif, he'd been talking into a remote. "The bomb went off outside the walls of the station but barely. We have to move to another section as they are worried about structural damage."

"Thank you Professor." The president had recovered enough to come over to where I stood, "Thank you, very much. Get him to a doctor, his arm is hurt," he ordered and I was whisked away with Hassa mothering me the entire trip to the hospital wing.

In the hospital out-patient room, Inspector Gooseif looked disdainfully at my arm. "You humans bruise much too easily."

Yes, thank you too Gooseif, I sarcastically thought. He rode back with me to the hotel, housed at the other end of the station, leaving Hassa and me off in the Hotel lobby. "You did well Sholl. If more humans were like you, well...," he could not let himself get too complimentary.

They are all like me, I thought, but didn't voice my thoughts, remembering Dean K's warning that humans should be allowed to progress at their own fast past. If he thought I was an exception, the better. It was almost time for my speech and I needed to change, my clothes were ripped in places from the explosion. Getting into the dark suit wasn't easy and I found I could not manage the suit coat. I knocked on Hassa's door for help. "Come in, it's open."

"I need your help getting this on," I yelled into the bathroom.

"I'll be right there. Guess what? Dean K left you a message. We're going to Earth between semesters, some research project he got funded."

"We're?" I said, repeating it, "We're?"

"Yes, he says I can go along too. Besides I'm much better, I can smile and act just like a human. Maybe I'll call myself Marlena while I'm there," she said coming out of the bathroom in a rather stunning sequined dress.

"Yeh, sure Shirley," I shook my head, "but there is only one thing, the bra goes on the inside."

"It does?" She looked down at the white brassiere that was inside out to boot. "Damn."

It would be a long trip to Earth. I escorted the now properly dressed Hassa to the auditorium, leaving her to take a seat, I approached the stage from behind. I stood, everyone of course was at lunch and a human was not worth missing a meal. The auditorium was just about empty. I stepped up to the podium, there was Councilman Rhine and the other three humans seated out front with Hassa right behind. I smiled, yes this was all I needed... "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to say..."

# WEBBERS

Pj Belanger

"Code Blue, West and Farmington. 388 Axon St., Log-on name Tigress," came blaring over the scanner. "Please advise upon arrival." The dispatcher's raspy voice squelched, spackling static in-between the words. The siren started to blare and the lights flashed, reflecting every which way off the hood.

"For heaven's sake, turn the siren and lights off." I turned to Frank, a new rookie I'd been assigned to train while my partner was on vacation. "It's a Code Blue, it wasn't a call-in, it came from the monitors. It may be nothing. Let's not alarm the entire neighborhood."

"Well, what if it's an O.D.?" Frank's eyes blazed with excitement. I shook my head, nothing worse than an overzealous Webber Cop.

"It doesn't matter, regulations Frank- Code Blue is only an investigation of Web Overuse, it comes from the Computer Monitors. Turn the DAMN siren OFF!" I yelled, my anger now getting an immediate response as the siren stopped blaring in my ears. I'd only been with Frank a couple of days and I'd already had enough of his "self importance" that sometimes accompanies a badge. Being the Senior Officer in the car, at least I could keep him under control.

"Well, gee Kaz, let me go in this time?" He whined in his annoyingly high pitched voice.

"Last time I let you go in, you made a complete ass of yourself." I took great joy in reminding him of an earlier Web incident this morning that had turned out to be a false alarm, a computer malfunction. "You're lucky if they don't report you to the Chief!"

"I found them rather rude! They had no right to talk to me that way!" Frank's face was red and blotchy. "After all, I'm a cop, there's not enough respect out there."

"You're a Webber Cop!" I exploded. The man would never make the regular force, they'd not even look at him considering he just made 5' 4" and had the build of Betty Grable. "Your job is to help people! Not intimidate them!" I suppose Frank needed to intimidate with his badge as his wimpish personality was only outdone by his own large ego. The Webber force had too many like him, it gave us a bad name.

"You say that because you're also a regular cop," he whined.

I ignored him because we'd arrived at the destination; a small white house, in a tidy little neighborhood. My eyes scanned the property as Frank parked the squad car in the paved driveway behind a small blue station wagon. I had already noticed the mailbox had "The Smithys" written on it. No toys in the yard. Next to the cement walkway a little neglected garden patch of flowers was overgrown with weeds, although the yard had recently been mowed. I walked up to the door and knocked. No answer. I knocked again, no answer.

I went back to the squad car and radioed in. "No answer at destination, what readings are you getting?"

"There's activity, Kaz," Betsy, the dispatcher, answered quickly.

"Cleared to go in?" When there was time, I always routinely asked permission.

"Of course we're cleared!" Frank barked, his hand already going to his issued gun, which in reality was unloaded any ways. God the man was annoying.

"Shut up Frank." I gave him my deepest, darkest look, I knew better than he did that Webber Enforcement Officers needed no search warrant. "It's always better to get the Captain's clearance, it protects us personally." I wanted to add "you jerk." but refrained.

"Captain says, go in." Betsy finally came back on. "Could be an S-Add."

"Roger," I affirmed. "Going in. I'll contact you when we're in."

Frank had already wiggled up to the house's side door and was getting ready to put his small shoulder to it. "An S Addiction! Could be bad!" He was about to take a running start at the door when I stepped in front of him.

"Web Sex Addictions are usually minor, Frank and I've never heard of any violence connected with them." Towering over his small frame, I waved him back, as I tried the doorknob. It opened. I heard him snort as I went in. The man was an ass.

Just inside the door was a small compact kitchen. It may have been cute at one time, but now it was a mess. The sink was overloaded with dirty dishes and the garbage can was overflowing. Even the small breakfast table was covered with what looked like this morning's breakfast dishes. I crossed to the refrigerator, opening it. The smell was overwhelming, full of moldy food. I stepped back, bumping into Frank as he was looking over my shoulder. His hand was at his nose.

I went through the kitchen into the living room, finding similar unkempt conditions. I searched the two bedrooms, no one. The small house must have been cute at one time, it had the feeling of a newlywed couple's house gone into decay. If you could see through the untidiness, the furniture all matched, although not the most expensive. Cute little knick-knacks, covered with dust now, had been placed just so. On the fireplace mantel, my feelings were confirmed as pictures of a couple in their wedding outfits and of the consequent honeymoon were there.

The door to the cellar was slightly ajar. Frank, seeing it also, once again reached for his gun. I opened it all the way. The cellar was dark, except for a small glow that just barely reached the bottom of the stairs. I slowly descended, squinting, letting my eyes get use to the darkness. My attention was immediately drawn to what was emitting the glow, a computer screen. My feet felt carpeting, a downstairs family room, my mind immediately assessed. I waved Frank to stay still. I crossed over to the computer, sitting in front, her face shadowed green by the monitor's light, was a young woman, I guessed maybe 25. She hadn't noticed me, her eyes were fixed intently on the screen that surrounded her on three sides. She had one of those 3D monitors and on her head were the new surround sound earphones. More and more theories were blaming the new virtual hi-tech systems on the multitude of web addicts. One look at her and I knew the dispatcher was right. I saw a light switch on the wall behind the computer, I switched it on. Only when the room became brightly lit did she even look up. I stared down into the opaque dull unseeing eyes of a Web Addict. It was a look I knew only too well and I never got used to it.

My eyes traveled down to the sheer negligee that covered very little. "Ma'am," I tried to get her attention. I counted ten seconds before she answered me with a weak whisper. Good, it meant she hadn't reached the critical stage; we'd gotten to her in time.

"Ma'am," I repeated. "We're here to help you. Can you stand?"

"Yes." The answer was stronger this time, she was coming out of her Web trance. I took her arm, helping her up. I took off her earphones, hearing the enticing sexual grunts that matched the screens. I looked over to see Frank's small frame rigidly standing with his gun pointed right at us. "For God's sake, put that down and get me that blanket off the couch over there." I tried to keep my voice calm as I didn't want to get the woman upset, Web addicts can be very skittish and I didn't need a hysterical woman on my hands.

I gave her to Frank with a warning look to behave. "Slowly get her upstairs and into the car. I'll be right with you as soon as I contact headquarters." I turned to the woman, taking her hand. "Ma'am..."

"Karen," she whispered, it came out as a croak.

"Karen, is there someone we can contact... where is your husband?"

"At work, he's always at work..." her voice trailed off to a sob.

"It's OK now, we're Webbers. We are here to help you." I reassured her. "Just go with this officer."

I turned back to the computer screen. The sexual scene was changing, I wasn't surprised to see an E-mail letter starting with "I can't wait to tie you up with chains, whip you into submission...." I didn't read anymore. I closed the file and brought up the Tigress' directory. Just like I suspected, it was full of every kind of sexual reference the WW Web offered. Using my cell phone, I called Betsy. "Affirmed diagnosis, it's an S-Add," I told her. "I'll download her computer's memory, it'll help the doctors. Tell me when you're ready."

"Roger." Betsy confirmed. "OK, line 2 is ready, switching."

I watched as Headquarters tied into the Tigress' computer system, draining it. When it was done Betsy returned. "Need an ambulance?"

"No, she's at stage four. We'll take her in ourselves. Her real name is Karen Smithys, call her husband. He's at work, it'll be somewhere in the computer files, just do a search."

"Roger. Good job. I'll fax her in, they'll be expecting you." Betsy always ended it the same way, it was rare that a Web-Add wasn't immediately committed. A sad but true fact; if we have to find them, it's too late for just a regular doctor.

We drove most of the way to the hospital in silence. The woman sobbed softly in the back seat. She so fit the typical Web Sex Addict. I'd seen it so many times, a spouse that works all the time, usually the sex life was inadequate, but most of them just wanted the attention. The Web with its reality atmosphere provided everything they lacked in their own personal lives. Orgasm is 90 percent mental any ways. At least this one, we might have gotten in time, she wasn't so deeply entrenched that therapy just might help. How many people had we gotten too late, that just ended right back on the Web. Too many!

We dropped her off at the trauma ward. Dr. Morton was there, expecting us. "Take her right in nurse, sedate only slightly please." He turned to me, "You've been bringing in a lot lately."

"With the new WW Web monitors we're finding them faster. It detects certain patterns, still it misses a lot of them too."

"We called her husband, he's furious. He arrived just a few minutes ago, Kathy has him up in the office. Says we're the crazy ones."

"Denial, Doc. I see it all the time, especially in an S-Add case. It's almost like it's something to be ashamed of. Usually all the signs are there, but the family ignores them. They make excuses for the person instead of facing up to the fact that they have a World Wide Web Addict on their hands."

"I just don't understand it." The doctor shook his head. "We've had public awareness programs going for a long time- TV ads, pamphlets, school education. We ignored it for so long. Too much online stuff, too much reality equipment, some just can't handle it. It's the three-D screens with those damn earphones that are making it worse."

"God Doc, look how long it took our Congress to realize it was a national epidemic and it took the President's wife's addiction to bring it out in the open. It's like alcoholism, better to turn your back and hope it goes away!"

I left the doctor scratching his head and headed back to the squad car. Frank was combing his hair in the mirror, too bad he didn't know how to use an iron as efficiently, his uniform looked like it'd been sitting on the bottom of the hamper for a week. "Frank, any calls?"

"Huh?"

"ANY CALLS!"

"Oh, yeh. Betsy wants us to call in as soon as we're done here."

I picked up the mike, "This is car 88, we are finished with the S-Add. Anything?"

"Good, your back," Betsy immediately answered. "Got a call from a wife, 30 Bass St., would you please check it out."

"What's the problem?"

"Not sure. Could be over reaction." I could hear Betsy checking her papers, "Mrs. Okie says her husband is a Web Addict, she was rather unsure herself, so..."

"What's the readouts?" I inquired.

"We're still running a check. So far nothing. His use is normal, no real late nights, just occasionally. His log on is Tom." I heard the ruffle of papers again. "Really Kaz, he looks clean."

"OK We'll just check it out." I quickly looked over at Frank and caught his hand going to the siren button. When he saw the nasty look I was giving him, his hand went back to the wheel.

Bass Street was across town in a nice suburb, upper middle class. The house had a long rambling driveway. Two cars were parked inside the open garage, both late models. I walked down the brick walkway to a front porch. Frank was at my heels. "I think this is a waste of time, we have a lot of addicts out there to find. I thought we'd be doing more undercover." He was complaining again, "It's probably a hysterical wife, you know, doesn't like her husband on the computer all the time."

"Maybe, maybe not," I told the jerk as I rang the bell. This time the door was immediately answered by a woman perhaps in her early fifties, just graying and with just a hint of plumpness to her figure. She was wearing an apron and wiping her hands on a towel.

"I'm so glad you came, officers! I know how busy you are." I could hear Frank smile, she'd just shot his ego up two sizes. "I hated to bother you, but I think my husband's in trouble."

"May we come in?" I asked. I always hated giving the neighbors an eyefull.

"Oh, yes. Certainly." She stepped aside, letting us enter into the hallway.

"Now what seems to be the problem, Ma'am?" I could see the dark bags under her eyes.

"I saw an article the other day..." Her eyes started to water.

I knew she was losing control so I quickly jumped in to reassure her, "Take your time, we're here to help."

Taking her dishrag, she wiped her eyes and slowly continued, "Thank you, this is very hard. You see it started slowly. He got a new computer, it came with the new 3D World Wide Web Browser and he was having so much fun. He enjoyed it so much we got a cyber line just for the computer and he started setting up sound microphones everywhere. Then he got that new reality atmosphere kit. At first he'd just use it at night, then it became all weekend. Now it's all the time. He got another computer, says it's faster, then more equipment... he's spending all our money..." Her voice cracked. I patted her on the arm. Looking at me, she seemed to gather an inner strength and continued, "now he won't even go to work, he's used up all his vacation time and sick time. He won't come off!"

"But they aren't showing any unusual over usage." Frank commented. The wife looked at me strangely. If I could have killed the man, I would have.

"Don't worry ma'am, let us go talk to your husband." I glared at my partner, hoping he got the message to shut up.

She led us down to the end of the hall. She knocked on a door. "Hon, we have company."

Receiving no answer, she knocked again. "Please open the door, it's me, Sarah."

I reached over her and pounded. "Open up, Mr. Okie." I pounded again.

"Go away! Leave me alone!" came a muffled reply in a tone of voice I knew only too well.

"Stand back." I put my shoulder to the door, pushing hard it gave.

He didn't even look up as the door gave way and we flooded in. I looked around, computer lines with filters, monitors and speakers filled the room to capacity; not only the latest of data equipment, but the best. His office was a total reality set up. The minute you walked in your senses became blurred with the computer program. I felt I was floating in space, somewhere near a huge nova. He must have spent big bucks.

I went over to stand next to him. "Mr. Okie," I waited, no answer after 15 seconds. He was in deep. "Mr. Okie!" Again no response. I touched his arm, his head swung around to look at my hand scowling. "Please, we are here to help you."

It happened so fast that I hadn't time to react, he jumped up knocking me over and had his hand around my neck. The man was truly crazy, with the strength that goes with being crazy. I couldn't dislodge him. I heard the wife scream. I rolled him over, with him on the bottom, I got a better grip and pulled until he let go of my neck.

Gasping for air, rolling him over, I pulled his arms around his back, reaching for my handcuffs, I quickly snapped them on his wrists. Even with the restraints he rolled around, foam coming from his mouth. I looked up to see Frank standing, eyes wide, immobilized by fright. "Frank, snap out of it!" I growled. "Give me a hand. Sedate him!"

Frank seemed to be in a daze of his own, just standing there watching the man roll around the floor with me trying to get ahold on him. "Ma'am, please take the package out of my pocket." I ordered her. To her credit, she did exactly what I told her to do. "Break it open under his nose, while I hold him." The minute she did, he collapsed as the sedative took hold. "Thank you," I croaked, trying to catch my breath. I noticed the guy's eyes had rolled back. Shit, he was having a Webleptic fit. Grabbing a piece of rubber from my back pocket I placed it under his tongue. "Mrs. Okie please get a blanket, we have to keep him warm."

I immediately called headquarters. "Betsy, ambulance immediately! We have a code 7, he's in deep. Web Overdose, webleptic fit in progress."

"Roger." I heard her call. "They're on the way!" She must have realized I was out of breathe. "You OK, Kaz?"

"Yeah, he went wild on us," I told her as I brought up his directory.

"He was registering fine." She told me, another blameless person, blaming herself.

"You wouldn't have seen it." I reassured her. "He has several filters, they're getting quite sophisticated in hiding usage. You should see all the gadgets this one's got. Send over a Web squad, they need to check all this stuff out. I'm going to download his stuff now."

"OK, line 3 ready."

I watched as even with the super fiber optic lines of Headquarters it seemed to take forever. Data bit after data bit from all over the world flashed. He'd been at this a long time. A true Web Info Addict, he saved everything he'd ever found out there. Finally, disgusted, I cut the screen off, letting it run.

Frank stood right where I'd left him, rooted to his spot. "Frank, snap out of it. Go watch for the ambulance." He shook himself as if coming out of a trance and walked stiffly out toward the front of the house. Mrs. Okie was by her husband, stroking his hair, holding his hand. "He'll be out for quite awhile," I explained. No matter how many times I'd seen it, I could never get use to the pain Web addiction caused.

"Thank you Officer." She half smiled through her tears. "I so wanted to call before, but...."

"I know. Don't worry, the hospitals are really doing a lot with this sickness. He'll be back home real soon."

She stood up, looking around. "I hate this, I'm going to destroy every last bit of it."

"You won't have to." I assured her. "The W-squad will be here soon. They'll confiscate everything anyways. Lots of this stuff is illegal. " Next to his main computer was his Epod. I grabbed it, trying to open it. I couldn't, it was locked. "Mrs. Okie, do you know his password?"

She shook her head. "He was very secretive, he just got that, it's supposed to do everything, he was really proud of it."

"Make sure the squad gets this, I'll bet he twittered a whole lot and they never notified us."

Seeing the alarm on her face, I quickly added, "Your husband isn't in trouble, just the manufacturers, they're preying on the sick."

She seemed to relax. The ambulance men came running in. The medics started on him right away, finally leaving with Mr. Okie wrapped tightly on a stretcher. The Web Squad followed close behind. "Well, what do we have here!" Lieutenant Mitt's eyes wandered around the room, "Really sophisticated."

"He had the best, the guy was off his knocker. We had to sedate him and everything!" Frank exploded as if he'd been in charge. I just shook my head, the guy was beyond belief.

Mitt ignored him, turning to me and pointing at one of the filters, "Hi Tech. Bet it's foreign made. Getting a lot of that coming into the country lately. We shut them down here, they go abroad and make it!"

I nodded, it seemed a vicious cycle. "Come on Frank, we're done here." Coming out of the house, we could hear the monitor going crazy. "Car 88, can you respond to an apparent juvenile O.D. at 44 Maple?"

I ran, sliding across the seat I grabbed the mike. "We copy Betsy, on our way!"

This time I let Frank blare the sirens. We pulled up in front of the building. As we got out the ambulance arrived. All of us hurried up the walk way of an old brick building, neighbors were in the hallway.

"Which apartment?" I asked one of them.

"It's in 4K." An older gentleman pointed down the hallway. We hurried toward the already opened doorway. The apartment was filled with curious neighbors. I pushed my way through, glad for once of my over 200lb frame. In the back room were two young teenage boys, one sitting at a small desk, his face was turned to a computer monitor. More stunningly was the kid's bedroom walls; all were computer screens. The boy had completely set up a "surround room" using rudimentary components.

"Come on, Kenny, talk to me." One of the youngsters was shaking the boy.

"Hold on son." I drew him back.

"He won't answer me!" the boy turned to me, seeing I was a cop, his face turned to one of surprise and he started looking around for a place to run. For once perhaps, because he was only kid, Frank caught him, grabbing onto his arms. "Don't move!" I yelled with my firmest voice and the kid stopped struggling and froze.

"I'm cool," he told me, pulling his arm away from Frank.

"Good," I told him. I waved the ambulance guys over. "When did you find him, son?" I asked the kid.

"A little while ago. He won't answer me." he said.

I went over to the computer, looking at the medics, I said, "Ready?"

They nodded. I turned off the brightly lit screen, it looked like it was downloading some type of game. One wall after another shut down. The boy at first did not respond, then his hand jerked toward the on button. I held it. I felt the trembling, "Kenny." If I could get a response out of him before the sedation was administered, he'd come out of it quicker. "Kenny, talk to me son."

Nothing, his body started twitching just like his hand. His eyes just stared at the darkened screens, he pulled at his earphones that no longer worked.

"We can't wait any longer, Kaz." The medic said as he gave the boy a shot. We caught him as the trembling stopped and he collapsed into our arms. "Get that stretcher over here!"

I looked around the room, it was a lot less crowded, when cops show up, most want to disappear and not become involved. "What's your name, son?" I asked the boy who'd been shaking Kenny.

"Mike." It was said rather sheepishly.

"Playing hooky?" I smiled as I said it, not wanting to frighten him.

"Sorta, I came over here 'cause Kenny hasn't been at school for a long time and he don't answer the phone neither, his sister told me he was too busy with the computer."

"Where's his parents?" I asked the boy, but it was an older woman who was standing by the door that answered me.

"She's workin, got two jobs, five kids. Her man done gone long time ago." I didn't need to ask anymore.

"How'd he get the computer? Steal it?" Frank was bending down into the kid's face.

"Leave him alone!" I yelled, losing my temper. Bullying never gets a cop anywhere, especially with kids, they just clam up.

Mike proved to be a little fighter though, answering Frank himself, "NO, HE DIDN'T STEAL IT!" the kid spat in Frank's face. "He won it, the school done give him it because he's real smart! He can even get in and surf, he got a whole year of time."

"Is that why you were worried about Kenny, he's usually at school?" I ventured, getting the picture of an underprivileged smart kid that had fallen through the cracks. No wonder the web held such fascination and attraction for him. What else did he possess?

"Yeah," Mike answered. "It ain't like him. His momma is gonna be real mad!"

"His momma's gonna be real glad we're going to help him." Henry, one of the medics, had come over. He turned to me, "We got him all set to go. Kids are very prone to Web Trance, it doesn't take long. Wish the school systems would have us do a profile before they go do stuff like this. Giving him one of those 3D reality computers without supervision is asking for trouble."

I shook my head, I didn't know the answers, no one did. "I'll have them send the download real quick. Where you taking him?"

"Johnson Memorial." Henry said, "Your old stomping ground. How's it going? Gotta give you credit, Kaz. I don't know how you do it and stay clean? See ya Thursday night at therapy."

We watched them load him into the ambulance before returning to the squad car. "You help in web therapy?" Frank asked.

"No, I attend the sessions."

"You attend..."

"I'm a Web addict Frank." I figured he'd find out eventually, besides it wasn't something I was ashamed of. It was the reason I had transferred out of homicide. "I was in Johnson Memorial."

"Oh. Are you OK?" Frank was a man of many words, all of them wrong.

"I'm fine. I will always be an addict. I keep myself monitored, take one day at a time and attend therapy sessions once a week."

"What do you web freaks see that's so captivating?" Tactless as ever.

A mind as limited as Frank's never need worry, I thought. How could you explain to his narrow brain that on the World Wide Web, time was endless, all of human knowledge lay at your fingertips. Your thoughts mingled with the mind of Einstein, Beethoven, Picasso, Milton, Galileo......God...

I was saved from having to answer when the scanner blared "S-Add on East and West Main... Log on Pussycat." The siren blared and I felt myself being slammed back in my seat as Frank gunned the accelerator, his eyes bright with excitement. This was going to be a very long day......

# THE SUMMONS

Pj Belanger

"Ah, damn." She fell to her knees as her head rang, the message echoing in her mind. Clenching her fist, she got control. The pain subsided, the words faded....... slowly, I need you. She regained her feet. I need you... softer... I need...

"Are you all right, General?" her first commander guardedly asked. He was not use to any sign of weakness in his fierce leader. "Should I get Prince Larse?"

"NO!" She had said it too vehemently and regretted the outburst the minute it had left her tongue. "No, I'm fine. The wine must have been tainted, it did not go over well. I'm fine. Leave me, I have to concentrate on these battle plans, make sure all is in order."

He left her, but not without a few backwards glances. She cursed herself. It was never good to show signs of vulnerability. Signs of weakness would breed uncertainty in her troops and they'd need all their wits about them when they attacked the Hurks on the morrow. If all went well, she'd be able to leave. I need you... she fought the words, grasping the sides of her head in frustration.

Too long, it had been too long! General Tirre cursed herself for not realizing sooner what was happening. It had started out as distant echoes, ringing in the far recesses of her mind. By the time Tirre recognized the summons, it was too late. She had long ago forgotten the magic needed to call it forth at will or to stop its incessant, persistent message.

The decision to follow the soldier's way, long ago erased the memory of the complicated magic needed to control the calling. Her strength went into her body. Her mind concentrated on battle plans, not the mental alertness needed to weave spells. Try as she did, the magical skills were gone, replaced by more pressing needs, the needs of her soldiers. The Hurks had attacked through the King's Pass, terrorizing the northern settlers. The Northern savages needed to be cleared of the land and taught a lesson. The campaign had delayed her departure a whole moon cycle and the summons had gotten louder... I need you... She concentrated on the maps in front of her, the summons would have to wait!

The struggle had waged on for several days before the last of the Hurks had been chased back into the pass. The smell of Hurkian blood still lingered in her nose, the memory of victory fresh on her sword. The battles had gone better than expected. The wounded were being looked to and the dead were burned. "I must go," she said. The pain in his eyes was evident only to herself. He nodded. They had discussed it privately in her tent. The soldiers need not be party to the suffering they both felt. She left, not looking back.

She paced herself for six days, mostly running with short intervals of sleep caught when her body told her it was time. Now that she was not fighting the summons, the pain had lessened. Still, the urgency of the message reminded her of how desperate he must be, making her pick up speed. In all the time she'd been gone, never once had he summoned her, never once even sent a message by pigeon. To have swallowed his pride, something had to be terribly wrong. It was time to go home, he had summoned.

Her strong lean muscles gleamed with sweat. Her wide shoulders, which carried her bows and arrows, flexed as they relaxed, a warrior's body strong and efficient. Here on the trail she had no soldiers to command, only her own thoughts to cope with. Her mind ran back to her adopted homeland. It had not been easy to leave. Although the victory had freed her to answer the summons, it did not free her of worry.

Larse would be able to manage without her, at least for a while. Prince Larse had not parted with her easily, remembering his desperate words back at her tent. The Prince, she thought as her hand went to her stomach, flat now, but soon it would be swelling. She had not told him. He was already worried enough, not understanding why his general, his lover, needed to leave, yet trusting that she would come back, to return to her loyal soldiers, return to him. Although it had been a long time, she remembered the way easily. She reached the edge of Finder's Land as the sun was just above the tree line. Almost immediately she knew something was wrong. Huge oaks lined the borders. The trees were the village's messengers, warning of any intruders. She saw several that had toppled. Many had gapping burn holes or bark that looked scarred and damaged. Touching one of the magical trees, Tirre could feel it groan in agony, making her wish she could remember the healing spells.

Running full out, the soldier covered the last of the way, arriving at the cliffs before the sun was settling on the horizon. Coming to two large boulders, she wove a simple spell, concentrating, spooling the words out... yet nothing happened. The short cut to the village was protected by an easy spell, one that even children could weave.

Calming herself, she again spoke the words focusing her whole mind. The boulders barely pulled apart, leaving just enough room for her to squeeze through into the opening of the caves. Once in, she hurried through the complicated maze of caverns, heading constantly upward, coming at last upon a manmade landing that led into a long stone carved hallway. At the very end was a wooden door, marked with several magical seals, symbols of all the houses in Finder's Keep. She placed her hand on the emblem of a gray cat, feeling relief when the door opened.

Looking down from the top of the ridge, she saw no one on the road. It was early evening and everyone would have already returned from the fields. Not far, in the already semi darkened valley, the village lights glowed softly. Composed, she hurried along, coming soon to the edge of the small township with its tidy newly painted houses and shops all neatly placed. She had found them boring in her youth; today she appreciated their simplicity.

Before reaching the village, she took a side pathway. Tirre took long strides, finding herself becoming excited despite her resolve to stay distantly removed. Not far down the path a small cottage came into view, upon its door an emblem of a gray cat, his symbol. Touching the eyes with her fingers, she pushed the bulky door open.

Once inside, it was stifling hot. The main room was lined with bookshelves and tables of half empty bottles and colorful canisters. Tirre scrunched her nose at the smell of burning chemicals, relaxing as old familiar memories came flooding back. At the far end, stood an elderly man, his robe worn and frayed, his aged wrinkled hands busy mixing potions. His glasses hung low on his nose. Although aware of her, the wizard did not look around. Knowing that to interrupt his work would bring disaster, she crossed to an old dilapidated couch. Removing the papers and books, shooing the gray cat off, removing her sword, and stripping off her jacket, she lay down, immediately falling asleep. As a soldier, Tirre had learned to sleep wherever and whenever possible.

The moment he turned, she was up, sword in hand. Remembering, coming quickly alert, she relaxed, putting her sword back on the floor next to her.

"You have become too much like them," the old man frowned at her. His eyes settled on her facial scar that marked a tough battle, the only flaw in an otherwise beautiful face.

"Thank-you and how are you Grandfather?" She cocked her head questioningly at him. "I came as quickly as I could."

"Not quick enough, it's been several moons since I sent the summons. You did not return a reply, I'd given up on you."

"I have responsibilities. I have been busy. The war rages in the North. I could not leave my soldiers before I was sure the enemy had retreated." Tirre could not admit to him that she had lost her magic, that she could not stop the summons nor send one in return.

"Ah, I have heard of this war. It means little to me and should mean less to you."

"I did not come here to discuss that which we are done discussing. What is it Grandfather? Why did you send for me?"

For long moments he said nothing, seeming to ponder how to begin. She noticed he looked older, lines of stress hung heavily on his eyes, yet they still sparkled with intelligence and curiosity. She searched her memory of how he'd looked when she was younger, when her mother had left her with him. Yet all she recalled was that he'd always looked ancient, but never with the worried haggard look he now held.

When he began, he stumbled over the words, "The magic is failing us."

"Failing?" she asked.

"It began slowly. Some of our spells wouldn't work as well. Little things went wrong. It is now failing most of the time. The crops are failing. The council can't even bring the winds for rain. Even our lights fail us. We now must use candles."

"Surely you know why? Are your potions failing also?"

"Many are." He slumped down on one of the few chairs not covered with books, fatigue wailing from his body. "I have been trying everything."

"Why me?" she asked. "I cannot help with your spells, my magic is mostly forgotten. I can help you resettle into another land?"

"We will not leave our land, it is here that the iron dwells. Our magic comes from here, you know that! We cannot live without our magic."

"Ah." Her hand reached down to retrieve her sword belt. "That is your problem." She could feel the old arguments surfacing and she'd only been home a short time.

"It is your problem!" He sharply retorted, the old criticism Tirre knew only too well came blazing back. "You think everything is answered by the sword, magic is much stronger than any sword you can possess!"

"Oh, and where is your magic getting you now?" She cocked her head, half smiling, knowing for once he could not answer her.

"I did not send the summons to have you ridicule me." He turned from her, gathering his papers he'd been working on.

"Why did you send for me?" She had been trying to get an answer from him.

"A dragon began appearing several moons ago." He did not look at her.

"A dragon? Dragons have little use for humans. It would not cause the magic to fail, it possesses the greatest of all magic, it does not need yours."

"I know that!" He crossly answered, continuing before she could retort, "It is the rider that is causing the problem."

"Ah." The whole situation suddenly became crystal clear. "A black sorcerer with the dragon's ring is using the dragon's magic."

"Perhaps but dragons do not give up their souls so easily unless the wizard is extremely powerful. There has not been such an evil one in many eons. The old man explained further, his voice choking, "He has, however, made demands for the return of our magic, having the dragon burn several of our houses to make his point. The first demand was food supplies, then our gold..."

"And you paid?" she scornfully said, knowing what was going to be said next. Anticipating the answer, "Now he wants more."

"Yes." Simply said, too simply said.

"Grandfather, what does he want now?" She was getting exasperated at his embarrassment, why couldn't he tell her straight out. He finally answered her, she had to strain to hear it.

"A virgin, a young girl."

"Tell me not that the council will give into this blackmail! It is only in old wives' tales that dragons prefer to eat virgins, I have found them to want livestock and gold."

"We have very little to do with dragons, they frequent the cold North. I have argued but the council feels they haven't any choice," her grandfather meekly replied.

"And you call us barbarians!" she angrily yelled at him. Then realizing it was the reason he had called her, she calmed. He didn't agree with the council, he needed her soldier's skill. The decision must have sorely tested his beliefs, she decided to make no more of it. "We must do something."

"The council is meeting tonight." He replied. "Perhaps you can think of something to change their minds. The ransom deadline is just a few days away. I think everyone has lost their minds."

"A common occurrence when panic sets in." She had seen it many times in battles.

"Come, Marisa left me a mushroom pie." She followed him into an adjoining kitchen. Unlike his laboratory, this room was neat and orderly. His housekeeper, like most of the inhabitants of Finder's Keep, prided herself in keeping an orderly house. Thinking of her grandfather's laboratory, she realized how much of a rebel he was. Marisa complained constantly, but it did little good. Yet, his magic was so powerful, none dared challenge his eccentricity, just as they had not challenged his right to raise his renegade's daughter child.

The pie was excellent, but cold. "I cannot warm it," he admitted. "The magic hardly works when it is near the time of the dragon's return. It reminds us to pay or else. I was lucky to get the summons out when I did."

"The pie is fine." Tirre was so hungry that it didn't matter. She'd been eating on the run for six days quickly devouring strips of dried mutton and ration cakes. Anything would taste good. That the mushroom pie could have been warmed in the same brick oven that Marisa had cooked it in, had not even enter her grandfather's head, like all the wizards in Finder's Keep, magic was the only way.

After supper they headed towards the village. She changed into the familiar robe type dress that all of Finder's inhabitants wore during meetings and social gatherings. She felt strangely out of place. Her old robes did not fit well, with a tightness of the shoulders and hips.

Everyone was heading towards the pavilion at the other end of town. Somber looking, few noticed her presence, so deep were they in their own worried thoughts. Remembering the village as happy, although arrogantly righteous, it cut deeply into her thoughts to see them all so worried. She'd been a gentler soul then, but a troubled one, a rebel to these simple folk.

The pavilion hall was packed. The council of six was seated at the front of the room. She recognized Mictonrus, still rotund, his cheeks rosy but his face held no laughter, as she had remembered him. Pompous Catus sat next to him, he'd always been a serious senior wizard and still held the sanctimonious air about him that had so irritated her in her youth. The rest she did not know. She stayed in the far back with her grandfather, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

"Let us begin." Mictonrus began the meeting. "We have only a few days to meet the demands or the magic will not return."

"What is there to discuss?" Catus stood up, motioning excitingly with his hands. "What is left but to decide who we must give to placate him."

A moan came collectively from the crowd. "There must be another way," a woman cried from the front, "we cannot give up our young women."

"It is only one," Catus pointed out. "He will leave us alone after that."

"He will not leave us alone." Tira's grandfather yelled from the back.

"You know nothing, Maoto, we've heard you before," Catus waved his hand dismissing the old wizard.

This angered Tirre, she jumped to her feet yelling, "He's right, you pompous fool." Unable to restrain herself as planned, she continued shouting. "It will have all your women and you will do nothing?"

"Who speaks such?" Mictonrus asked.

"Tirre Maoto," She answered throwing back her hood. "You should fight this abomination. If I am correct you are being blackmailed by someone whose gotten control over a dragon's soul. No one with honor does such a thing. Trust me, one virgin will not placate him."

A gasp went up. "It is not what you have told us Catus," a man cried from the audience.

"She does not know what she talks of," Catus told the man. "She's an outsider now. The dragon man confided to me he only wants the woman for his wife, nothing else, he's lonely."

Tirre shook her head in disgust. "We in the North know of these evil sorcerers, they possess only magic and prey on the weak. They fear the strength of our armies, they do not take our children."

"She's become one of them! One of the barbarians, like her mother." Someone yelled, "if the dragon man hears of her, we'll all lose our magic. He warned us not to fight him, the magic could completely disappear. Then what would we do, we'll starve!"

It was Mictonrus who raised his hand for order, "Quiet! We must come to a rational decision. Can we trust this dragon man to leave us in peace once we give him what he wants?"

Again her grandfather argued, "Do you believe this evil being, who has taken our magic, who thinks nothing of letting our crops fail, who burns our houses, is telling the truth?"

Again the murmur of the crowd reached a high pitch. Catus, stood up, angrily pointing at Tirre, "Would you believe someone who has shunned our village, who fights with the barbarians and is rumored to sleep with common soldiers?"

Tirre scornfully laughed, "Come Catus, at least get your rumors right, I sleep with the barbarian King's son! I tell you this, if you will not fight this monster, I will show you to my land where you may live without the threat of this sorcerer."

"What! Live without our magic!" It was Mictonrus this time, "We could not live with the barbarians." The whole council nodded in agreement as if the thought of a life without their spells and potions was inconceivable.

Tirre shook her head in disgust, "I leave you then to your fate, as you left my mother and me to ours."

The cool air on her cheeks felt refreshing as she hadn't realized how angry she'd become. Old memories and old hurts came flooding back. "Fools, stupid fools," Tirre muttered to herself, as she headed back towards her grandfather's cottage. Being deep in thought, she hadn't realized she'd been followed until someone gently touched her arm.

"Tirre, do not leave."

Stopping, turning around, she was surprised to see Mich, a childhood friend. "That's not what you told me many seasons ago." She laughed at her old friend who had become pleasantly plump, with soft hands and wavy hair. The soldier looked down at her own callused strong hands, preferring them that way.

"You should not have left us. You were powerful with the magic." Mich grabbed her robe, "Can you not help us?"

"I thought you did not want the help of this barbarian whore." Seeing his tired, despaired look, she felt sorry for her outburst, softening her next words, "I cannot help. This dragon man is more powerful than all of you, what little of Finder's magic I can remember will do little, if anything."

"Can't you kill it?" he asked.

"What? Use my sword?" She truly mocked him, thinking of their last parting, when both had been painfully innocent and young. Mich had pleaded with her to refute the idea of following in her mother's footsteps, of going to the North, to become a soldier. Tirre had been half in love with him and it had hurt that he had not understood. Now, here he was begging her to use that which he found so distasteful.

"Please Tirre, please," he fell to his knees. "They have picked Kitca, my younger sister." Tears fell freely as he pleaded with her, "She is just a child." Relenting, she pulled him to his feet. Being a General, Tirre was not use to such behavior, the men and women she dealt with were strong physically and emotionally. They were soldiers who saw death on a daily basis and did not fear it. Yet, she could not help thinking of the newly formed life that was stirring within her. She would soon have a child of her own, although the child had just begun to grow in her womb.

"Let me think on it," she told him, "still I cannot do this alone, so if there are some like you, bring them to my grandfather's cottage. I will talk of it there."

Later, when the moon had gone, Mich came bringing his wife and several others. They timidly entered, not sure if they had done the right thing asking for the help of this rebel. Tirre smiled coldly, knowing that like her grandfather, their faith in the power of their magic had been shaken. Even harder for them was admitting that perhaps another way had to be found.

Her grandfather sat sulking at the table. He had said little to her, showing little surprise when Mich's group had shown up at his door. When does the dragon man return?" she asked.

"Day after tomorrow," Mich's wife, Horia, informed her. "They will take Mich's sister, despite the pleas of his parents. They think nothing of handing over the youth of this village. The elders have too much power! Do they feel nothing?" The bitterness rang hard in Tirre's ears, remembering how her own mother had given her to this way of life.

Mich, holding his wife, tried to comfort her, "We will not let it happen." Looking at Tirre, he explained, "They have already taken Kitca from my parent's house, fearing she would run away with you. These are my brothers and their wives. They have agreed to help us."

Tirre, looking at the group, had serious doubts. None were in shape for fighting. They were used to the spells protecting them, the magic doing all the hard work. It was a life she had come to loathe for its naïveté and falseness of security.

"Come back at the crack of dawn. Bring whatever you can that might be used as a weapon." Seeing the blankness of the faces, knowing they could not imagine anything other than a fire spell or a thunderbolt to protect themselves she explained further, "A pitchfork, an axe, perhaps a long knife, anything!" She shook her head, what had she committed herself to? Why had she returned at all?

After they had left, her grandfather also sadly shook his head. "You know of these wizards? How do they take our magic? All my existence, and all of my father's, nothing has bothered us."

"I do not really know. The wizard is using the dragon's magic to stop your own. It is considered immoral to use the noble beasts in such a way." She shook her head, "We have little to do with magic, our swords and backs do fine. The King, of course, has his magicians and healers, but perhaps because the North lacks the iron you have so abundantly, they do not possess the magical power of Finder's. Still, we are secure enough. To be called Barbarians because we do not depend on magic is rather stupid, grandfather."

"I do not want to discuss philosophies. I want to discuss black sorcerers." For once, he did not argue with her, did not try to change her mind.

"I don't know very much, only tales told by wandering minstrels of men who could command dragons by the beast's own talisman, usually a ring made of solid gold."

"If I could get hold of this talisman," the old man looked thoughtful.

"You'd have to kill the dragon man first. I'm sure he protects it fiercely." Tirre tauntingly explained, "And how do you plan on doing that grandfather? Would you like to borrow my sword? Of course you'd have to get close enough to kill, and then find the strength to swing it and the skill to know where to strike...."

"Enough! You've made your point several times today," he growled, leaving the kitchen to return to his laboratory, hoping to find better answers there.

Tirre, alone, remembering the hurt on her grandfather's face, regretted her words. Still, the truth of them stung. She was going to risk her life for these people, people who had rejected her because she followed a different path, relying on her strength instead of their precious magic. Thoughts of leaving entered her head. Tirre missed the comradeship of her chosen people and she missed the father of her unborn child. Unlike her grandfather, Larse did not demand, knowing her to be her own master.

The following morning, they all faithfully showed up. Tirre practiced with them all day in back of the cottage showing them how to thrust their weapons using their body weight, not just their arms. Even her green recruits could defend themselves better than these pampered mages. Try as they would, their bodies could not respond quickly enough. Giving up on any idea of actual support, she settled on a simple plan. "All I need is for you to distract the dragon. If you can just distract him enough to keep him from helping his master, it may be all I need." They all nodded as if understanding. They left winded and exhausted. Tirre hoped they would not change their minds on the following day when the dragon actually arrived.

Her grandfather, who had sporadically watched, said little during supper. It wasn't until Tirre had gone outside and was sitting on the ground watching the stars that he approached her, "I want you to leave. It is foolish what you do. There is no hope."

"Wasn't it you that told me that there is always hope," she answered. "It is the one thing you taught me that I use every day, Grandfather. Hope is a soldier's best weapon. Every day we hope for better weather, hope for better rations, hope the enemy will retreat. It keeps us from ever giving up."

"This is hopeless, Tirre," the sadness resounded into the surrounding forest. "They may just run and leave you there alone."

"They may," she answered, "but then they may not."

The following day was bright with sunshine. The village, however, was gloomy as all watched the skies for the coming of the dragon man. At midday he came. Tirre inconspicuously observed as the shadow of the dragon's wings circled the village. The soldier was relieved to see it was a small dragon, probably not very old, and hoped it was not well trained. They had positioned themselves near the spot where the dragon man would land; a high knoll that looked down on the village. Their robes hid the weapons nicely. She could see Catus coming from the village. A young woman, her hands tied, was being dragged by several of the villagers. Tirre gave the signal to move, getting on the top road before the procession did, pretending to be part of the approaching entourage.

They approached with their hoods up, heads down. The laughter of the dragon man mocked them, "Bring me the girl, it had better be a healthy beautiful one. I do not wish to take all your magic! It would be a shame to totally ruin your wheat crop."

The small group flanked out, just like she had instructed them. The evil sorcerer, confident of his power, did not become alarmed until Mich and the others threw off their robes, brandishing their rustic weapons. "What is this?" the dragon man yelled. "Why you little..." raising his fingers, fire spurted forth making Mich's group momentarily pause in alarm. To Tirre's surprise, they still charged forward. The dragon reared in anger towards the approaching group, smoke began spurting out of its nostrils as it readied to spit fire.

This gave Tirre the chance to attack from the side. Tearing off her robe in one swift movement, she took her small knife and threw it. It hit the dragon in the right paw, right where she had aimed it. Young dragons do not develop scales on their feet until near adulthood. The dragon roared in agony. Its large tail swinging every which direction as it tried to dislodge the knife. The dragon man, trying to dodge the dangerous tail, was not sure which way to go, as he obviously had lost control of his mount.

Tirre taking advantage of his distraction flew at him, toppling him with one movement. Before he knew what was happening, he felt her sword at his neck. "Don't move, or I'll slit your throat before you can weave even a small spell," she ordered him.

"Commander Tirre!" he yelled, recognizing her. "It's me, Katlin."

Recognizing him, she yanked him to his feet. "Why you son of a hoary toad," she yelled. "What are YOU doing here?" Seeing a large ring on his middle finger, she grabbed it, pulling the piece of jewelry off before he could react.

"Hey, that's mine," he complained, "You find your own ring."

"Out with it, Katlin. Where'd you get this? Tell the truth or you'll not live to see another sunrise."

Sweat beads appeared on his forehead. "We were surrounded by the enemy during a battle near the Iluas Border. I ran into some nearby caves, hoping no one would find me. I found this baby dragon; its mother had just left it. The youngster didn't know what to do, I fed it some apples, I got its ring.

"You know you disgust me, you're just as much a scum as I remembered," Tirre spat. "I ought to kill you right now and be done with it. Where is the village's gold?"

"Now, come on Tirre we use to be mercenaries together. The gold is mine, fair's fair." Tirre pricked his neck with her sword, blood trickled down to her hand. Katlin quickly changed his mind, "It's in the dragon's saddlebags."

Handing Katlin over to Mich, she crossed to the dragon, showing it the ring she held in her open palm. It was licking its paw, eyeing her with great distaste, but making no dangerous moves. Jumping up, she found the bag of gold right where Katlin had said it was. Then she carefully removed the dragon's saddle and bridle. Going around to the front of the small scaly beast, she looked straight into its young eyes. "You will remember always that when I had the chance, I did not kill you, my young dragon, and when you are older, when my children's children are grown you will owe them much. I give you back your soul. Do not forget!" She reached over putting the ring into the dragon's soft skin pouch that lay hidden in the folds of his neck.

She knew the dragon would not forget. They never do. "Now get out of here, go back to your mother before she shows up looking for you!" It eyed her, turning its head every which way as if remembering the moment. It could not speak yet, it would be many decades before it would learn even a few words. Suddenly, it flapped its massive wings, taking to the air, circling once before its silhouette could be seen in the distance.

"Hey, now how am I going to get home?" Katlin moaned.

"You aren't. You're going to stay here and rebuild some of the houses that dragon burned down and work the fields to replenish the crops that failed."

"Ah come on, Commander. We're comrades, remember?"

"Yeh, I remember the times you ran and left me stranded, you no good..." She stopped, shaking her head in disgust. Turning to the group that had assembled, she replaced her sword. "This coward is only a man, not even a great sorcerer. I will leave it to you to dish out his punishment, but before you do, all of you may look to yourselves. What makes you any different from this scum? He found the dragon's ring running away from a battle, did you not do the same?" She noticed Mictonrus and Catus turn their heads away.

Mich, whose clothes were torn and scorched, ran up to stand next to her. "I ask Tirre to stay, to teach us to defend ourselves when our magic cannot!"

Tirre laughed at the irony, how long she had waited to hear those words in her youth. Were those the words her mother had also waited so desperately for? "No Mich," she looked around at the now anxious faces, of those who earlier had condemned her, who now would gladly embrace her. "I have my own life, my own responsibilities and they are not within Finder's. It is not the sword that protects, but the will of the people to do whatever they must. If you remember that, you will do fine in the future."

She returned to her grandfather's cottage. Gathering her few belongings, she prepared to leave, taking what few rations necessary to make the return trip home. A return to the father of her unborn child, return to her troops that so depended on her, return to the Kingdom that depended on her troops to protect their way of life. Her grandfather met her at the door, he looked as ancient as ever. "Thank you."

"I did very little." She left unsaid that anyone in the village could have beaten a baby dragon and a cowardly soldier. It was unnecessary as the point had been made.

The old wizard touched her cheek and she felt him heal the scar that ran from the corner of her mouth to the tip of her nose, once again leaving her unblemished. He could not stand to see her as she was, a soldier with battle scars. She had not minded the scar. It had been a rather proud reminder of a hard fought battle that she had won. Tirre, however, accepted her grandfather's gift, knowing his need to give it. "You have a new life forming within you." His eyes sparkling, "It is the Prince's?"

"Yes." She answered as she picked up her pack, swinging the heavy bundle onto her shoulders. "When she is born I will send a message," adding with a smile, "by pigeon carrier."

"Will you let her visit?" the old man answered. "I will not corrupt her with our magic."

"You misunderstand me, grandfather." She had started down the trail back home, but stopped to look back at the old man telling him one last parting thing, "I do not disagree with your ways, but it will be for her to choose which path will be traveled and all will respect that which she, herself, chooses."

He nodded in agreement, waving good-bye, knowing now that she would return often.

THE END

# BRAIN VIRUS

Pj Belanger

"Get out of my way! Let me through!" came from behind my office door just before it swung abruptly open. Nurse Paks came tumbling in backwards, followed by a tripping, stumbling patient.

Before I could even utter a surprised exclamation, the patient, who I now recognized as Henry Dnane half ran, half tumbled to my desk, "You gotta help me Doc. I'm going crazy. Take this thing out of my head!"

"Calm down." I tried to put up my hands to quiet him, but it didn't do any good. Instead he rushed me, coming around the desk, grabbing me by the collar, shaking the hell out of me in his excitement.

"Don't tell me to calm down. Get it out of my head, now!"

At this point, to my relief, Nurse Paks had come up from behind and slipped him an injection with a quick-acting tranquilizer.. His eyes went immediately dull and his words became slurred, "I...wantaa...get..."

I gave Paks a grateful nod and led Henry to my couch, letting him slump unceremoniously onto the cushions. "Just relax Mr. Dnane, everything will be just fine."

"I'm sorry doctor he pushed right past me." Nurse Paks exclaimed, straightening her uniform. "I had no idea!"

"It's all right. These things happen." I patted her on the arm, then quickly switched my attention to my patient. I was worried about Dnane, despite my assurances to my nurse, this really was not a normal occurrence. "Get me his file. Let's check the last time he had a virus check."

"Doctor Raymond, I don't think... a virus can't." She was stuttering her objection to my even thinking the unthinkable.

"I agree, but let's just check anyway." I calmly told her.

She left me and I turned my attention to Henry Dnane. He was mumbling to himself, half draped over the arm of the couch. Dnane had been a patient for quite a while, as a matter of fact he'd been one of the first to receive the new Belantium Double Chip and had just received an upgrade not too long ago. I knew him to be a level headed, calm intelligent businessman. His unusual outburst made me reluctantly put my bets on a virus. Still, a virus had never been known to cause violent behavior- a slight irrationality, sure, but never had this happened. The experts say it isn't possible. Yet, every indication pointed to some programming abnormality, he was too much out of character. Damn!

Before I could think on it further, Mrs. Paks had returned. "His brain functions were normal five months ago, right after he got an upgrade. He hasn't been to a clinic since then."

"Too long." I shook my head. Why did they wait so long, especially with all the new strains of brain virus floating around? All he had to do was go to one of the newly formed multi-functional virus check and reprogramming clinics. Especially now, using Intocs' newly developed advanced software, checking for viruses only took a few moments of scanning. "Help me get him into one of the Tech examining rooms and let's start doing the tests before he even comes around."

Between the two of us, we dragged him down the hallway and struggled to get him onto the examination table. My technician Marion Captz came in while we were strapping him down. "Marion, plug him in, he's ready."

"Won't the tranquilizer have an effect on response time?" nurse Paks asked while helping Marion connect the diodes to his temples.

"Not really," my technician spoke before I could, "I'll just set the scanner to reflect it. Mrs. Paks, enter how many cc's of Xanax you gave him. This new program takes it all into account when doing the analysis."

I watched the screen as the scanner began its analysis of his implant hooked up to his chip. "Testing" came on the screen. I stood glued to the spot in deep concentration of all the possibilities that could cause such a reaction.

"Doc, he's got one of the advanced double Belantiums, it's going to take a while to test all that memory."

"Yes. Right." I had been in deep concentration, my thoughts rambling. "It's just that ... he became a little violent... uhm, I'm just a little worried, might be a virus. Let me know the minute you have the results."

"You know I will." She smiled, but I could see the uncertainty in her eyes and the fear that lay just beyond.

My day was getting off to a dreadful start. Leaving my technician to figure out if anything had gone wrong with Dnane's chip's programming, I hurried back to my office, resuming what I hoped would be a quiet day and hoping that Henry Dnane's problem was easily correctable.

"Are you ready for Mr. Hezman?" My nurse stuck her head in my office.

I looked up from the x-rays that I'd been studying, giving her a quizzical look.

"He's here for an implant consultation," she smiled trying to calm my fears.

"Just give me five minutes." I told her. "I just want to go over this schedule, I promised Mrs. Cathort I would call her about her upcoming transplant. It'll take me just a few minutes."

Wednesday, March 6, full calendar day, I thought looking over my schedule book, noting that Mr. Dnane's emergency had really put me behind. I pressed the number for Mrs. Cathort, it only rang once and she was yelling 'hello' into her speaker, the video was blank.

"Hello, Cortis?" I yelled back, knowing she was a little more than deaf. "I wanted to make sure you're all set for tomorrow." I usually left these calls to my nurse but Cortis Cathort was rather a difficult patient and would only talk to me directly.

The video screen came on as Cortis, realizing it was me, decided to talk face to face. "Dr. Raymond, I'm all set." Her voice was shaky and rough as was usual for her. "I'm so glad you called, Doctor, are you sure this will make a difference?"

"As I told you before Cortis, you'll see better, hear better and remember better. Isn't it worth it?"

"Yes, I suppose but, well, it's just so new to me, we never had these things when we were younger."

"No, but aren't we glad we have them now! Remember they are just simple computer micro-implants hooked indirectly to your brain, nothing special or dangerous about them. Think of it like wearing a new pair of eyeglasses or a hearing aid, we've had these chips for years now with very few problems." I spoke each word distinctly, aiming right into the speaker.

"I suppose so," she hesitatingly answered. "Although, there has been a lot written about them these days. There's even an organization fighting against them. I just..."

"Please Cortis, we've been through all this. Would the alternative be better? You want to keep up with your friends. Think about it and you know it's for the best. I will see you tomorrow at the hospital." I smiled, hoping my confident facial expression would allay her fears but I could see as she waved me good-bye, worry was still in her eyes. Damn those extremists groups, getting everyone worried and riled up for nothing.

I buzzed my nurse. "Bring in Mr. Hezman."

Mr. Hezman was a rather large bulky man whose stylish Wall Street suit emanated money. "Hello, Doc." He pulled up his pants, sitting crossed legged in the chair opposite me.

"I see here you would like to have a double Belantium implant. I assume that you've read all the literature we gave you at the time of your request."

"I sure have, Doc." He brushed his hand through his carefully styled hair, giving me a good look at his expensive diamond pinkie ring. "I want the best, the very best that money can buy. It is the best, isn't it?"

"It's the most advanced one, Mr. Hezman. It only came out a year ago." I was annoyed at his manner, implying that money was the only factor to consider. Perhaps it bothered me more because of the truth it held.

"This is gonna make me a whiz kid, Huh?" He smiled.

"It's only an enhancer." Mr. Hezman.

"Call me Frank," he interrupted me.

I continued even more annoyed at his presumption. "Too many people, Frank, think this will make them a genius. It doesn't. I compare it to a person who has total recall memory and there are people out there that have perfect recall. Yet these types of people have no more chance of being a genius or even of higher intelligence than others. What counts is what the brain does with the information. That is what makes one person smarter than another. It will, however, help your senses. It can enhance your sense of smell and taste. Your eyesight, if it's a simple stigmatism, will be better. It will also help you remember things like birthdays, appointments and telephone numbers, that sort of thing."

"Yeh, I getcha." He waved my lecture off. "I just want the best."

I bet he got it, I sarcastically thought, still, it wasn't for me to judge, nor even to really explain his intelligence to him. Like most people he thought a computer implant made a person more intelligent when in truth it did nothing for IQ. Like all conveniences, it made life easier. Instead of sitting down at a computer terminal, they could access information directly from an implanted cellular chip and just like sitting at a computer it was what you did with that information that counted. This guy would remain the pompous ass he always was; no Belantium Chip was going to change that.

"You still here, Doc?" He interrupted my thoughts as I was drifting off. Dnane was bothering me, making it hard for me to concentrate.

"Yes, Mr. Hezman. Let me explain the procedure. It takes less than a day, there isn't even an overnight stay at the hospital. I just make a small incision in the back of your head, really microscopic and insert the chip, connecting it to the brain stem at the base of your skull. It's all done with microscopic instruments and it is virtually painless. A local antiseptic is all that is needed. You will come in early in the morning and by late afternoon, after we've run a couple of tests, you'll be released, with a checkup in a week just as a precaution."

"A precaution? What are we sayin here, is there a danger?"

"Not really." I had this great urge to pull this guy's string but ethically it would have been wrong so I gave him the regular spiel, "like every medical procedure there is the risk of infection, although small. We like to make sure. Also, I am sure you are aware of the computer brain viruses that are now appearing."

"Yeh, I read something about this." He leaned forward in his chair. "Ain't nothin to it, is there Doc? Just a bunch of fanatics, aren't they?"

"For the most part, yes," I assured him, leaning forward myself, placing my hands together on my desktop, "We have several clinics, we encourage our patients to visit once every couple of months. They check for the viruses and it takes only a few minutes. Most insurance companies cover the cost. Also any behavioral problem, something that doesn't seem normal, or a memory that is a little out of whack- come right in and we check you out."

"Cost don't concern me Doc." He stood up, deciding to pace. "What about these headaches?"

"That was a long time ago, Mr. Hezman. As it says in the brochure, in the early days, after an implant the patient got a headache for a couple of days until the brain adjusted to the new input of the chip, but we now compensate for that. The new Belantiums have new programming that increases the flow of information slowly until the brain itself takes over."

"Wow." He stopped pacing, again taking his chair reassured.

I was not impressed that he was impressed. I just wanted to be rid of him. "Now, see my nurse on the way out, she'll schedule you and give you all the preliminary instructions. We prefer you not to eat for twelve hours before the operation, the programmers find the initial response time faster if the metabolic rate is slower."

"Programmers?" He sounded uncertain again. Obviously, he'd not read the brochure.

"After the chip is implanted, a programmer checks the codes to make sure nothing was damaged during the operation and to make the initial spark to activate it."

"Oh." He was unsure what else to ask. "Can I hire the best programmer you got?"

"Believe me, Mr. Hezman, the hospital only has the best," I snipped at him, annoyed once more at his belief that money would make a difference in the quality of his care.

I was glad when he'd left. I buzzed Marion. "How is Frank Dnane's testing coming along?" I asked.

"Gee Doctor Raymond, so far it's not picking up any abnormality. So far, not one bad pict. I'll call you the minute I get something." She sounded relieved.

I hung up, semi relieved myself, perhaps it was something else. Maybe he'd taken a combination of medicines that had caused a chemical imbalance. Thinking that, I rang Marion up again. "Sorry, I just thought of something. Have the program check for medicines that might be conflicting, perhaps he's taken something he shouldn't."

"It's already set into this new program." My technician remarked, I could hear the pride in her voice that she knew something I didn't. The new upgrade program had just arrived yesterday and I hadn't had time to read all the new features yet.

My next patient was a middle aged woman, Helen Perks. Her husband walked in with her. He looked nervous and did all the talking. "My wife is afraid she has one of those viruses that is causing all the uproar lately. I don't know. I don't really see any difference..."

"Please take a seat." I pointed to the two chairs. "I just need to ask Stella a few questions."

He seemed relieved, slouching in his seat, having turned his responsibility over to me. "What have you noticed that is different Stella?"

"Well, doctor, nothing too much." She fidgeted with her wrist watch. "I just find I do things a little different now."

"Well, let's see." I looked at her file. "What was your mother's first name?"

"Karen." She quickly answered, beaming that it had come quickly.

"Good. What is the middle name of your oldest son?"

"Ah, Carl." She said definitively.

"So far so good," I remarked. "Here, write your name for me."

She reached over grabbing the pen in her right hand and scribbled neatly, "Helen J. Perks."

My heart skipped a beat, yet my manner didn't, I learned a long time ago not to show surprise, that it only acerbated the problem. Stella was left handed and her middle initial was K. "Tell me Helen, what's your favorite color."

"Oh blue. I've always loved blue." She beamed, feeling confident that all was well.

I looked at her file, three months ago it had been green. "It must be because as a child you lived by the ocean." I made it sound like a casual remark, smiling softly at her.

"Now doctor, don't try to trip me up. I grew up in the Midwest." She laughed thinking she'd caught me trying to trick her.

No, she had grown up on the Florida Keys. Her husband by this time was sitting straight up in his chair, his eyes wide open, realizing her memory was indeed flawed. "Helen, Helen ..." He started to stutter in his excitement.

I held up my hand to him. "It's all right, Mr. Perks. We'll take care of it." I reached under the desk and buzzed Nurse Paks, who knowing the signal came right in with a tranquilizer shot.

Meanwhile, the husband was over by his wife, holding her hand. She looked blankly at him, wondering why he was so upset.

"Helen, you aren't from the Midwest..." He started to tell her.

"Let's not argue with Helen." I walked over to the two of them. "It won't do any good, Mr. Perks, until we can reprogram the chip. Her brain has come to rely on the chip for certain memories and unfortunately someone has infected your wife with a brain virus."

"What!" He stood up as Nurse Paks led the passively drugged woman out of my office, down the hall to the technicians' rooms, leaving me alone with him. "Who would want to harm Helen?"

"It's not personal. Most virus hackers don't even think about how many innocent people they hurt. It's a pathetic game. They just randomly program cell phones or direct play CD disks, hoping to catch a victim. She could have picked it up anywhere, even while she was tuning in her favorite online cooking show."

"Why?" He looked at me, feeling the back of his neck, feeling his own small incision scar. "Why not me instead?"

"She's a random victim, it could have been you." I tried to explain to him, as I had done to so many before him, "these hot shot virus programmers get their jollies from causing havoc. They don't realize the heartache they cause, at least most don't. Viruses, at least so far, have been pranks. The brain will stop the virus from spreading on its own eventually. That is why the chips are so safe. The human brain has built in protection mechanisms, never letting a virus do more than minor, non life-threatening damage. A hypnotized person is a good example of the brain's control. A hypnotist will perhaps get the subject to make a fool of himself, but a person would never do anything really harmful. The brain intercedes before that can happen. Same principle applies to the connection the brain has with the micro chip."

"But Stella thinks she's from the Midwest."

"Yes, but remember it's not life threatening. She would never become violent, or do something she totally disagreed with. Her brain would reassert itself if it felt her in any real danger. In time, she would have readjusted back to the correct memories. Becoming left handed or a childhood memory is minor."

"You're telling me this is curable? Can we just take that thing out of her head?" His frown was deep, his eyes angry.

"No, there is no need to remove anything. It will take only a few minutes with the technician. Marion will scan the chip, reset the correct pointers to the proper parameters and all will be well." I'd over simplified, but it was enough of the truth that he'd understand easily. I didn't, however, want to tell him that making Helen right handed meant switching a motor function from one side of the brain to another. A virus had to be very technological advanced to do that. I had already planned to inform Micro Logic.

His face relaxed as the tension drained. He looked very tired. "Gee, doctor, we become so dependent on those chips. It's so nice to remember easily and I've hardly been sick since I had mine put in. I'd hate to see a few ruin it for us all."

I patted him on the arm, "don't worry, we've gotten very sophisticated, Micro Logic has a whole section of programmers just trying to outguess the viruses before they hit." I was trying to reassure him when I didn't feel reassured at all, as my thoughts ran to Henry Dnane. Mr. Perks walked down the hall to his wife, shaking his head as if not believing people's inhumanity to their own species.

The phone buzzed, it was Marion. "Doctor, you'd better get down here!"

"What's the matter?" I heard the urgency in her voice.

"It's Mr. Dnane." She was hysterically crying. "The monitors are going crazy! His actual brain waves are totally off the chart. The chip's not responding... I don't know..."

I didn't wait to hear anymore. I ran down the hall, rushing into the tech's examining room. Henry lay on the table, spastically twisting, tugging violently at the restraining straps. Marion was giving him another injection, immediately it quieted him. I rushed over to the monitors. Despite the tranquilizer, his brain was registering extreme hyper-activity. Marion was over at the computer terminal, punching keys. "Shut off the chip, deactivate!" I yelled at her.

"I tried to tell you." She cried. "I can't, it's not responding."

I violently pushed her out of the way. My fingers pushed the disconnect button. On the screen flashed, not responding.. not responding.. irregularity.. call maintenance..

I turned to Dnane's brain monitor. I felt a moment of relief as the wave activity began to slow down. Then it began to continue to slow down more, then more. I heard Marion begin to scream as the green monitor waves disappeared completely. I frantically went to the computer terminal, my hands pounded on the keys but the computer was not responding. The screen suddenly went blank, letters began forming, I watched in horror, my hand going to the back of my neck, feeling my scar as the words appeared... HA, HA--HAPPY BIRTHDAY Michelangelo.........

# THE PRINCE'S UNDOING

Pj Belanger

The sound of rapidly fluttering wings resounded off the granite stone walls of the large chamber. A hush came over the crowd that had gathered in the castle's Great Hall for the Naming Ceremony. The Queen and King stood, their richly embroidered robes falling across the white marble jeweled throne in soft folds, their faces held the proud joy of new parents. "Bring my son!" the King commanded. "The Shee are here."

"I'm so glad they came," Queen Essie said leaning toward her husband, squeezing his arm affectionately in her excitement.

"Of course they would come, my dear," He assured his wife, "after all, Moria is your aunt."

"Moria never let family affection influence any decision, you don't become Mistress of the faeries by considering your family, my dear," the Queen told her husband.

He nodded, realizing his wife's words were all too true, the Mistress of the Shee kept her own counsel and did as she pleased.

The excitement of the crowd intensified as the beating of wings became louder and several small brightly colored lights circled the ceiling, slowly fluttering down, coming to rest in front of the throne. Where the lights landed, eight small figures suddenly appeared, causing a collective "Ohhh" from the gathered Kingdom's residents who edged forward, all eager to get a good look at the elusive Shee.

"Welcome," the King boomed regally. "We welcome you to the Naming of our first born."

All eight faeries seemed to giggle at once. They were all dressed the same, the color of their full petticoat frocks being the only distinction between them. All were chunky dwarfish figures, with full heads of curly blonde tresses topping their cherub type faces. All pranced around in sparkling ballerina slippers, waving brightly lit wands and all they did was giggle.

"Please, ladies..." the King seemed to be at a loss as how to handle them.

"Where is Moria?" Queen Essie asked, putting as much royal command in her voice as was possible for the good natured woman.

"Oh, she's coming, we think..." said one of the Shee, but no one could tell which one had said it.

"Well, we welcome you," the King said again, not sure what the protocol was for this unique situation.

"Thank you," giggle, giggle came collectively from the Shee. "We are glad to be here. Where is the child?" giggle, giggle.

A royal courtesan carried the baby forward. Queen Essie stepped down from the royal pedestal, taking the child in her arms. She kneeled before the Shee and they rushed forward, all jointly cooing and dancing around the baby, bending over the child, their lacy bloomers and matching leotards made a colorful ring around the queen.

"Oh, look. It's a boy," chuckled one of the Shee. Essie thought it came from the yellow one but she wasn't totally sure.

"I want to be first." This time it came definitely from the pink attired faerie, who pranced around the Queen waving her wand. "He shall be the most handsomest man in the realm." Giggle, giggle.

They all started frolicking around the Queen, each yelling their wishes for the newborn child. "He will be the best warrior, none can stand against him."

"He will be lucky in love, none will be able to resist him, the most beautiful, most intelligent princess shall be his bride."

The King beamed as the chants increased, each Shee giving the child its blessing wish. "He shall be a scholar, no knowledge shall be beyond him."

"He will be a great warrior of the highest quality, none will best him."

"He shall be a musician of unsurpassed talent, all will revel in his music."

"He will be an artist above all artists, his paintings and sculptures will be the highest prizes in the Kingdoms.", and finally

Finally, "He will be the best son, learning well the rules of governing and his wisdom shall not be disputed." giggle, giggle.

"I thank you!" the King excitedly exclaimed and the crowd burst out into a wild applause.

WHOOSH, BANG, POP, a burst of white light cut the applause abruptly short as all fell to the ground, cowering in fear. Even the Shee huddled together, almost like children afraid of a disciplining parent. The white light subsided to a dull foggy glow and then disappeared completely leaving in front of the throne an older woman clad in a dull gray hooded robe, undistinguished except for her bright sparkling purple eyes. "Moria!" the Queen yelled, almost dropping the baby as she stepped forward to greet her Aunt.

"Good Morning Essie. I am sorry I'm late, a problem came up. I see the Shee have arrived."

"Oh, yes, they blessed our child with their wishes. He's so lucky!" She cuddled the beautiful baby close to her chest.

Instead of being pleased, the Mistress of the Faeries frowned deeply, turning to her wards she demanded, "What have you done!"

Collectively, the Shee began to giggle, but the giggles now held a nervousness not heard before, "We thought maybe you wouldn't come," they all spouted together, gathering even more closely together. "We gave him our blessings." Nervous giggle, giggle.

"Oh what shall I do with you! Be Gone! I will deal with you later!" Moira admonished the little pixies with her hand and immediately the Shee once again turned into the brightly colored lights, fluttering back up to the ceiling and then quickly disappeared.

"Really, Moria!" The King descended from the throne, "You need not take it out on them for you being late!"

The Mistress, letting her hood fall full back exposing a beautiful oval face framed by flowing white hair, just looked darkly at the ruler, her purple eyes becoming darkly threatening. The King said not another word. "Have you done the Naming yet?" she asked of Essie, ignoring the King completely.

"No, we were waiting for you." Essie informed her, instinctively knowing her aunt was not pleased but unsure as to why.

"Thank goodness, perhaps I can do something yet. Proceed then." Moria commanded now of the King.

The King coming to stand next to his Queen and his son, held his scepter high and boomed over the crowd, "I name our first born Yesor, the Perfect!" A roar filled the hall that shook the rafters as all the Kingdom welcomed Yesor, successor to the throne.

Moria, for the first time smiled down at the boy, reaching into her drab gray robe, she approached the child, "Yesor, my apologies for being late, I can not undo that which has been done, but I give to you this ring." The Mistress of the faeries reached over taking the tiny finger of the child and placing a tiny purple stoned ring with a gold band on the small pinkie. "Use it wisely as it will Undo any moment of time that you want, but you may use it only once. Choose carefully." The beautiful full faced baby, smiled up at his great aunt.

"Thank you," the proud King tried to say but before it came out, Moria had disappeared in a burst of light. The crowd was stunned into silence.

"My, she can be rude," he told his wife.

"She's a very busy woman," Essie sternly told him. "It is not for us to criticize the work of the Faeries. We should be happy that they have blessed our child so!"

The King smiled, "You are right, he will be the most perfect son in the Kingdom."

And so it was, Yesor did indeed become the apple of his parent's eyes. They had no other children, as the son fulfilled every hope, every dream that they could imagine and their attention was focused on him, not on each other. All scholars were called to the Kingdom, as he learned so easily and proved to be indeed the best student. Soon he became their teacher. He was by far the bravest, handsomest and all flocked to see his works of art and the songs he composed were sung throughout the Kingdoms as favorites, all other songs forgotten as nothing could compare to his. All other paintings were thrown out, replaced by his creations, all statues crumbled but his.

It was a forgone conclusion that he would best anyone at any sport or joust. None could stand before him, finally none tried, laying down their swords as soon as he entered the ring. At an early age, Yesor the Perfect came to stand next to his father in the throne room, lending his wisdom, all listened and obeyed without question.

His eighteenth birthday arrived and it was time for Yesor the Perfect to pick a wife. Every princess in all the known world was sent to The Choosing Ceremony. There were so many that the royal tents housing all the princesses, of all the Kingdoms, dotted the landscape outside the castle for as far as the eye could see. Yesor looked across the scene from the castle's highest tower, the tall handsome man was alone and was composing a poem he would read at the opening ceremonies on the following day. Of course it was splendid and had taken him only a few moments to compose.

He was so deep in thought that he did not hear the Courtier come up the stairs. "Is there anything I may do, my Lord?" It was the same man that had held him on the Naming Day and had devotedly taken care of the Prince since.

"No. I have been watching the sun set over these tents, wondering which tent holds my future wife."

"Oh, My Lord," the courtier looked out to where the beautiful blue eyes of the prince had traveled, "I am sure she will be exactly as the Shee promised."

"I am sure," The Prince dryly answered. "The pixie faeries saw to everything."

"Indeed they did," the courtier beamed. "It was such a great moment, they all blessed you, each and every one!"

The Prince, who'd heard the story a multitude of times did not smile. "Yes, they thought of everything, did they not!" His gaze once again going to the camps below. Which one, he wondered held his future wife. He knew that no matter who he chose, he could only chose the right one. He could not make a mistake, the Shee had seen to that. Yesor was indeed blessed.

The courtier became alarmed. The prince seemed melancholy, a sadness that belied his lucky state. The servant could not stand to see his handsome charge in such a mood. "My Lord, is something wrong? "

The Prince shrugged it off, a perfect prince was not to be sad. Why hadn't they given him that one gift, he wondered? Why had they not given him happiness or was that something they could not give? No, the faeries had only given him the wisdom to realize he wasn't happy. Oh, well, there was nothing to be done, he realized. He watched the sunset, knowing of its beauty but not enjoying it. After all, tomorrow was The Choosing, another great moment in his young life. How many great moments lay before him?

The great hall had not known such a crowd since the young Prince's Naming. All had come to see who would be the lucky princess. Yesor followed his parents to the throne platform, taking his usual place between them. His mother reached over taking his hand, squeezing it fondly, his father gazed at him with beaming pride giving his son the nod that all was ready.

Yesor announced, "Bring the candidates forward!" And so it began. By evening, they had seen hundreds of princesses, some smart, some beautiful, all rich and charming in one way or another. It was near sunset when a stunningly beautiful woman stepped forward, she was from a far Kingdom. All eyes followed her down the aisle as she progressed toward the throne, including the Prince.

Yesor was certain that this was the woman, the perfect princess for the perfect prince. He stepped down from the throne, standing in front of his future wife. She looked adoringly at him, how could she not? This was the princess the Shee had promised at the moment of his Naming. He looked up at his parents, seeing the same adoring look, waiting anxiously for him to pronounce his decision.

He turned to the crowd, seeing the same cherishing stares, waiting on his every word, except for an older woman attired in a dull gray robe. The perfect prince looked into her purple eyes and saw the pity that lay there. She mirrored his own eyes. Almost in a daze, he reached down to take the princesses' hand. The ring, which had grown with him, lay on his little finger, its purple jeweled button unused. It was as if he'd noticed it for the first time and the words spoken at his Naming came rushing at him. Looking one last time into the crowd searching for the gray clothed woman, he quickly reached over with his other hand and pressed.

The Queen and King stood, their richly embroidered robes falling across the white marble jeweled throne in soft folds, their faces held the proud joy of new parents. "Bring my son!" the King commanded. As the courtier brought the new born child, the King leaned over to his wife, affectionately taking her hand, softly saying so no one else could hear, "Essie, I think it very rude for your Aunt not to come, she at least could give the child something!"

"Please, dear, do not question Moria's motives, the faeries are very powerful."

"Yes, you are right. It is not for me to question, still he does look a little too much like your father, my dear. His nose is going to be quite large."

"Oh, I think he's perfect," She cooed, taking the baby in her arms.

The King raised his scepter, booming loudly to the crowd, "I name my son Yesor, the Happy Prince!"

A roar went up from the crowd, while in the back an undistinguished woman clad in a hooded dull gray robe smiled, her purple eyes sparkling with the knowledge she had given the perfect prince the perfect gift.

THE END

# Thank You!

Thank you for taking time to read Sci-Fi à la Mode, a collection of short stories.

If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is any author's best friend and is much appreciated.

# Also by Pj Belanger

The Houses of Storem - Epic Fantasy

The Thunderstone

The Treachery

The Triad (just released)

Space Detective - A Skip Brown Adventure

Sci-Fi series

Murder on Nestor – Race to Death

Murder on M.O.S.S. – Medical Mayhem

Murder on Hilda – Slippery Slopes

Collection of Sci-Fi/Fantasy short stories

Sci-Fi à-la-mode

Soldiers One - Warriors of Misfortune

Available at all major online retailers

See more information at

http://www.pjbelanger.com

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