

### Ali Sam

### ERAPA

Steve Howard

PUBLISHED BY:

Steve Howard on Smashwords

Ali Sam

ERAPA

Copyright © 2018 by Steve Howard 773U5

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission by the copyright owner and the publisher of this book, except in the case of quotations embodied in critical articles, essays and reviews.

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***

Table of Content

Ali Sam - Erapa 1/6

**chapter 01 _ Billy Takes Sally for a Joy Ride**

**chapter 02 _ Sally and Billy Head to Canada**

**chapter 03 _ Sally and Billy's First Assignment**

**chapter 04 _ Sally and Billy in Brussels**

**chapter 05 _ Sally Writes a Story**

**chapter 06 _ Sally Works With Caprice**

***

"What if they should take from the tree of life and live for ever."

Unknown God

"It can't be explained in a word."

Ali Sam

**chapter 01 _** **billy takes sally for a joy ride**

"Look Billy."

Sally leaned against an English sport's car.

"I want this one."

Billy walked around the car once, checked the tires and the condition of the car. He wasn't getting a car if it wasn't in good running order. He nodded then looked up at Sally.

"It is quite an old model."

"It's pretty and I like it."

"Okay. But I better test drive it first."

"Whatever, Billy. Just get me the car. Please."

Billy laughed. He loved to tease Sally. Sally always got her own way with Billy if she tried just a little. Sally gave Billy her, well, I'm waiting look. Billy took out his knife and cut the convertible roof off. Twenty seconds later he had the car running.

"What's in the glove box."

"No gloves. Oh, look. Some grass."

Sally found all she needed to roll a joint and ignored the small handgun. They might shoot the tires out later to inspire a story. The police would try to track down the owner's enemies. Sally and Billy set the framework for that story more than a few times.

"Do you have enemies."

"One, obviously."

"Do you have any idea who."

If he did, or if she did, they would have an adventure. Sally and Billy thought the world needed more people on adventures. Adventures were fun. Fun made people happy.

"Shit."

"What's wrong."

"Can't find a lighter."

Billy pushed in the cigarette lighter.

"Holy shit. That's a lighter."

"Standard issue in this car. Do you know how many of these they built."

"No. Look."

Billy gave a quick look.

"You have talent."

"And you have brains. Let team up and fuck some shit up."

Sally laughed and lit the joint.

Billy looked at the beautifully rolled joint that Sally held up to admire after exhaling. He loved the big smile on Sally's face. He gladly worked at putting it there when he could. He smiled at Sally and forgot about driving. Just for a second. Long enough to drive in front of a cement truck. Sally's smile was the last thing that his brain recorded to memory for that evening.

Alarms went off in the company. The two subjects were being watched. Not because of their hobby of petty theft and auto theft. They were of interest to the company because of Billy's brain. They wanted it. Billy and Sally were on their future recruitment list. The company had invested already in the two. Twenty-four hour protection surveillance.

A medical helicopter was sent to the accident scene without decisions being made. An ambulance would take too long and they would die in a clinic even if they weren't already too far dead. The brain would hold out for a few minutes if they were dead. They would save Billy if his brain wasn't mush. They would save his friend too.

The medical helicopter landed on the street. The medical crew cut the seat belt off Billy and rushed him to the helicopter. He had no hands or feet and the rest of him looked worse. To add to the nightmare, he had a piece of metal in his head. As soon as he was brought to the helicopter, Sally was already being removed from the wreck.

She didn't look as good. She looked more like hamburger. The body could not be repaired. They would take what they could. First priority was the brain. That would be enough. If they had that they could work from there.

They weren't going to a hospital. A hospital was not equipped to do what they could do. So the helicopter landed at the nearest airfield and the medical team and the remnants of two crazy kids were transferred to a jet and were transported to an airfield close enough to the clinic that it was better to use an ambulance for the rest of the journey to the clinic and in the elevator and up to a surgery room like no other in the United States. The surgeons were robot operators. There would be no hands on doctors for these patients. They needed the best care. Technology could rebuild them. At least it could rebuild Billy. Sally was more of a problem. Had she not been leaning over to smile up at Billy with a joint, her head would have also been hamburger.

Sally's case wasn't hopeless but after quickly determining that they could save only her brain, heart, lungs and liver she was connected to machines to keep her in a controlled coma.

She would have to wait for a body donor.

Billy had serious internal damage but after sixteen hours of perfectly executed surgery he was alive enough to start growing replacement parts. They would make new bones with material from Billy's bones. Billy's bones would be optimized. He would have a design that looked like his original bones but his new bones would grow a little longer and stronger then his other bones would have. He would also get an optimized balance of muscles in his arms and legs.

Billy would be stronger than he was before. His potential to get even stronger was greater. It wasn't a necessary thing for a brain recruit to be strong. It simply was no more work to make him better. The robots just had to know what had to be done. They were patient and precise.

Doctors came in to look at him and talk to him. He was not in a coma after the surgery. He couldn't talk but he could hear in one ear. The other ear had to be made. They would make both ears new with 3D printing and insert them with simple surgery. Aftermarket edition. It mattered that Billy knew of the outer world so his stock ear was left in while his new ears were being made. His brain needed to be responding to the environment. So either doctors talked to each other, a doctor talked to Billy, or anyone might come in and read to him.

"Did you know that Frankenstein's monster never had a name."

"Never thought about it."

"His name is Billy."

"We've done a much better job than Frankenstein did."

"You can say that again."

She might have just to be funny but both their phones rang at the same time. It was 03:36 so it could only mean one thing.

"This might be your friend's lucky day, Billy."

Billy made a visual reaction detected only by one of the machines.

"Oh, look, he reacted to that."

"We'll come back, Billy. We're going to fix up Sally."

"He did it again."

"He must really like Sally."

They had a body for Sally in Washington. It would be hours before it got to the clinic but there were things they needed to do to get Sally prepared.

The victim of a shooting was a friend of someone in the company. The victim had been of some interest to the company before she adopted a destructive life style. A new brain would be just the thing she needed. Most importantly, she was the same blood type.

When the legally brain dead woman arrived in the clinic she was ready to be operated on. Sally's heart, lungs and liver were ready to replace the ten-year-older and very much-abused original issued. Not really necessary but too easy not to do it. Sally had better organs. The brain operation would be 36 hours of work for many robots. Sally had some damage where the brain met the neck. It was better to keep some of the dead woman's brain and graft Sally's to it. Not a human surgeon operation. But the robots could do it.

Everyone felt good about the operation. They watched on monitors to see what was going on inside Sally's skull. They watched mostly to make sure everything was okay with Sally. The new Sally.

Everyone forgot about Billy until the next day. Billy was content to sleep. Sally became a project. They made some minor amendments to her muscle structure. They corrected a slight breathing defect. They agreed they grow her new bones in her feet. The dead woman had damaged the originals. They replaced her elbow and knee joints. They amended her breasts so that they would be stronger and bounce less when running. She was their racecar. Every little bit matter. She was naturally beautiful. She would be unnaturally strong. Like her friend Billy. Not a super human but closer to one than what she had been.

They allowed themselves a lot of time with very minor operations. They made new ears for Sally as well. It actually made more sense for her. They corrected a slight problem in her eyes so that she would have perfect vision. At least until she was 48 and needed reading glasses. They might have been finding excuses to wait to bring Sally back. Eventually there was nothing else they could do to optimize Sally. It was time for the girl to wake up a woman. There was still concern. Her brain wasn't like Billy's. Sally's brain worked great in a coma. She was a wild creature to admire and a nice subject to work on. She wasn't likely to be as peaceful when she woke up.

She was saved to be in the conscious world. They had to bring her out of her coma. She would need to stay in a full body harness for a while longer. There were still a few things healing. There were still many surgical cuts that were being told by very small computers how best to grow so there would be no scarring. It really was for her protection. Her muscles were being trained with electrical stimulation to make her heal faster and grow stronger. No one could guess how she would react to waking up quite a bit someone else. She would wake up a wild and reckless kid not at the beginning of puberty but a grown woman.

"Sally, I'm Doctor Stern. You are waking up slowly in a clinic. You were in a bad accident. You were unconscious for a while until we fixed you up."

The doctors talked to Sally for two days before Sally attempted to look at any of them. She couldn't quite understand what she was looking at but she had a framework to go on. Me Sally. In clinic. Fucking Billy.

"Hello Sally. You should be able to hear me. Can you show me that you understand where you are."

Sally squinted at the doctor then closed her eyes again. It was too bright. She held onto the word doctor. She wasn't ready to think about it yet but she would try to remember to think about it.

She didn't have to think about it. When one doctor got tired of talking to her the next one came in and told her she was alive and healing brilliantly. They told her about her accident after a week. They often assured her Billy was whole again. Asking about her. Whenever Sally sensed they were worried that she wasn't making enough progress, she grunted or focused on the doctor for a minute. This day she did both at the same time.

"What did she say."

"I don't know."

"Sally, you should be able to speak. Can you say your name."

Sally grunted. She had nothing to say before she was out of whatever kind of machine was fucking with her. She wasn't too happy about being where she was. She wasn't speaking because she needed to know what to do if she was given a chance.

Sally and Billy had been best friends since before they could walk or talk. Their mothers lived next door to each other and took turns babysitting so the other could work or go out with friends. They also shared a bottle or box of wine or two most nights. Sally and Billy understood that they could do as they pleased as long as they didn't cause trouble for their mothers.

Trouble was one of their favourite entertainments. Luckily for the mothers, Sally and Billy enjoyed keeping their entertainment to themselves. In as much as no one really knew the culprits causing the trouble. Sally and Billy never took their troubles home.

They didn't have many friends at school. They were too freaky. Sally was not really ugly but she was too clever for her own good and no one liked that so much so they made fun of her and called her fish head. It was just her hair that never sat right and looked a little like fish fins. Not all laughed at her head. Some laughed because they were a little nervous. Not everyone mocked her. And she did have a few friends. Other freaks. Her best friend, Billy, had wings on the side of his head. Much like Sally. Wings were not quite as good for swimming as fins but almost because they were loon wings. And a loon is a great underwater swimmer. That was Billy's story.

They both enjoyed the odd smoke since they were very little. They learned from their mothers. But they couldn't be taking cigarettes from their mothers so they had to steal them. Stealing from stores wasn't so easy what with cigarettes being behind the counter and kids always being watched.

There were other ways to steal cigarettes. Sneaking into backyards was one way. Also good for a bottle of beer or sometimes chips or a hotdog left on a cold grill. Another way to steal cigarettes and other little things was to break into cars and pickup trucks.

Billy was good with computers and mechanical things. He could take a pile of broken things from the street and build a radio or a little amp and speaker for his guitar that he had stolen from behind a bar where it was waiting to be put into a van.

Their favourite game was stealing cars. They didn't try to sell them. They just wanted the cigarettes; the spare change, the odd chocolate bar, whatever they found. And a short joy ride. This was their entertainment on the night that everything in their life was seriously interrupted.

Sally and Billy had stolen a car and become wonders of science and medicine.

Imagine, Artemis, and for this it is necessary to go back 500 years, you live in a society where the priest class has absolute power and they dictate a reality based on a collection of fables they call the Holy Book. In this society you are to believe The Hallowed One created the Earth a few thousand years ago and it is flat. It is the center of the universe and The Hallowed One made you a sinner so he could torture you forever in hell unless you agreed to his undisputable terms. If you were a good servant you were promised an eternity of singing praises to The Hallowed One.

One evening you are lying on a hill watching over the sheep. And you notice the moon come up over the horizon and shine its light down on the sheep and you. You watch in a half sleep how the shadows change on the sleeping sheep and close your eyes.

Hours later you wake and are lying looking straight up at the moon. You can almost see it moving. And the stars have moved as well. That big white cloud of millions of stars changes its patter the night through.

Her grandfather would then ask her. And Artemis would tell him what was known about the solar system, the galaxy and the universe.

"How far away are the stars."

"It's hard to say, but farther than the moon."

"How fast do they move."

"The stars are not racing around the world. The world is spinning."

Artemis smiled knowing that she had quite a bit figured about how the world worked. She quickly looked around to see if anyone was listening. Nelly was looking at her but didn't seem to be paying attention.

Artemis knew it should have been the end of Holy Books when Copernicus and others, Galileo, Newton, pointed out that the sun was the center of the solar system and that it was but one among hundreds of billions of stars. And not only hundreds of billions of stars in the Milky Way galaxy. Hundreds of billions of galaxies with hundreds of billions of stars.

She couldn't talk to her grandmother about such things. With Grandpa she had. He had told her all about the universe and many of the things in it. He had been a great thinker and a great teacher. Artemis smiled at her grandmother as she finally sat down on the swinging sofa on the veranda.

"Can you read me a Bible story, my dear."

"Love too, Nanny."

Grandma smiled and watched Artemis. Such a darling girl. She couldn't remember where the girl had come from. She also couldn't remember when the young lady started being with her in her house. She was a good girl. Grandma never forgot that. And she could read so well.

Abram thought his father was an asshole. He paid homage to many gods, or images of gods, but beat his wife, Abrams's mother, until she was found dead by the water hole with the goats.

Abram's father liked his third wife better. She was much younger and still had the beauty of youth. She maintained some of that beauty after she had a child. Unfortunately for the third wife, she made a baby girl. They needed more men. They named the child Sari. Abram loved Sari. She was a beautiful child. She had raven hair yet brilliant green eyes.

She could charm a snake with her smile. Abram was obsessed with his half sister and promised her he would marry her. She didn't know what that meant, so she just smiled. Abram liked it when she smiled. He held her and touched her and kissed her.

When she was a little older she understood what her brother meant by marriage. Pain.

Artemis looked up to see if Grandma was paying attention. She wasn't. Just following the sound of Artemis' voice.

"Go on, Dear."

Abram came in from herding the goats around one day and found Sari sitting on her father's lap. This wasn't so unusual. Girls were often fondled by their fathers and uncles. It was a normal thing. Abram didn't like how his father touched Sari. Sari was his girl and no one wants to share their girl with their dad. Abram's dad didn't stop touching Sari's when Abram stood to watch him.

"Stop touching her."

"She's my girl."

"You think you are Lord of all."

"I am Lord of this house."

"You are not Lord over me or Sari."

"But I am, my boy. If you don't want to watch me with your sister, go back to the goats."

"I hate you and your stupid goats."

Abram took a god from the mantle and threw it on the floor. The phallus and the right arm broke off.

"You defile my god of promiscuity."

Abram's father pushed Sari to the floor. A god hit him in the head. It was a fairly heavy wooden god and smarted.

"Abram. When I get a hold of you."

Another god hit him on the chest. Actually half a god. Abram had broken it at the waist. It was a virgin maiden god that blessed the grass that the goats ate so that the milk would be plentiful. She wasn't a good god. All last year 4 of the goats were practically dry and had to be slaughtered and stewed. While Abram's father lamented over the goat goddess, Abram continued his rampage, smashing every god in the house.

"All your gods are pathetic."

"You have no reverence for the sacred."

"I have the one almighty god. He is ruler of all. The heavens and the earth. He is not a carved piece of rock or wood. He is ruler of all."

"Where is your God."

"Everywhere. He is the beginning of all and the all of all."

"Oh, fuck off, Abram. You can't just make up new rules. We have always carved our own gods."

"I can too."

"Not in my house, you won't."

"No. If that's what you want. Old man. I am taking Sari, 6 goats and Hagar."

"You can have 4 goats and Hagar."

"And Sari."

"No. She is my daughter."

"She is my wife and she belongs with me."

"Fine. She's no good for anything. Take her. Take three she goats and a Billy goat, take dates and bread for the journey. Sari can keep her lazy slave. Now get the hell out of my face and don't come back. And say good-bye to your camel. She stays."

"I need a camel."

"Take Garth."

"He's a thousand years old."

"He's a fine camel."

Garth was a fine camel. Strong and steady.

So it was that under a little duress, Abram, with Sari, her personal slave, four goats and a few things, including a tent, did set off from his father's house in Harem to cross a few fields and sand dunes to get to a new land.

A land flowing with milk and honey. Almost. Dust and blistering sun. Abram didn't care. It was a place to start.

For a while, Abram was happy to have and adore Sari. As it so often was with a new thing, after a time it was the same old thing and Abram wasn't satisfied. What was the use of having a young and beautiful wife if one had to live in poverty. He watched little Sari in the moonlight. She was mostly naked. She slept on her stomach with her head turned away from Abram facing Hagar. He ran his fingers through her long raven hair and admired the form of her legs and her butt. She really was beautiful. Abram looked out the tent past Sari's beautiful feet and watched for movement among the sleeping sheep. He saw a bird come out of the moon and fly straight toward him. He was sure it was going to steal Sari. Abram covered her at the last second and the bird flew over the tent and gave a screech.

He knew it was God sending him a sign. He knew what to do.

In the morning Abram was so friendly and accommodating that Hagar and Sari were rather frightened. He talked for a while to the goats, telling them he was certain they would soon have some new friends. His god had told him what he must do.

He instructed Hagar to make Sari especially beautiful and desirable. With the right scents, a little make up and some fine clothing, Sari indeed looked like the queen of her own sovereignty.

She had no idea what Abram was doing. He looked like he had a big plan for a day of romance. She was wrong. He sat her on Garth, gave Hagar instructions for things she always did anyway and they were off. Abram and Sari on a little get away. Sari soon saw that they were going to the castle. That couldn't be right.

"Now listen Sari, Amabramamba is an uncle of a cousin on our dead mother's side. My dead mother. Not your dead mother. She's still alive. Or at lest she was when we left her."

Sari had a few questions that she knew she couldn't ask so she just nodded. She didn't bother with a smile. Her brother was a prick and whatever his plan, she didn't like it. She half listened as Abram explained how Amabramamba came to be so wealthy and thus powerful.

"So remember, Sari. Just this one thing. You are my sister."

"Yes. I am aware."

"You are a virgin. Not my wife."

"Are you..."

Many things went through her mind. I am a virgin. What did that mean. Just don't say anything, she decided as they entered the castle walls. Abram explained whom he was and that he wished an audience with Lord Amabramamba.

As luck would have it, Lord Amabramamba had seen Abram and Sari approaching. He already knew Abram was a small herdsman. How small he didn't know or really care. What caught his interests was the young beauty. The sister. He would quite like to have her. As it was with Lords and young girls and sometimes even women. Or boys. Or sheep. But not really. No one really fucks sheep.

"I added the sheep, Nanny."

Grandma was nodding her head. Artemis didn't think the rest of the story was appropriate for her grandmother. Artemis didn't like it either. She knew girls were still being owned and misused. She smiled at her Grandmother.

"Shall we go for a little walk down the lane and back. See if we have any mail."

There was never any mail. But it was a nice walk to go down the dirt and gravel drive way to check for mail and watch the road for a bit to see if anyone drove by. There were always birds and animals to spot on the way.

Sally knew she had a body; she could feel it and see some of it. She was not certain if she was in control of it. She tried to reason why she couldn't remember having breasts. There wasn't a link between anything in her head and what she perceived as the point of her perspective. Surely if she was thinking in her own head that was most certainly her own, then there was some way to make sense of whatever the question had been.

The administrators of the somewhat secretive and brilliant operation and rejuvenation thought they had everything under control with their two specimens. Billy with muscle sedatives to reduce the pain from growing. He wasn't machine supported growing anymore. Just waiting for Sally. And Sally was still in restraints. Just a precaution for the girl's safety. She hadn't been expecting a new body that in fact was almost twice her original age. Still no one knew how she might take it. She hadn't been very responsive.

Sally had been taking notes in her head. She learned that there were certain patterns to the day's events.

There were cameras and electrodes connected to key points of Sally's and Billy's bodies. Everything was monitored. Sally's restraints had been slowly reduced to feet and hand straps and grates at the side of her bed. Some doctors were getting restless while others were losing interest in two sleeping bodies and going off to do something else. She noticed a downscaling of staff.

She was ready to go. The bloody machines that poked into her were gone. She still had some restraints to avoid injury to her body. That didn't seem right to Sally. She guessed it was because they were afraid of her. She could be crazy. Idiots. She had a plan.

It had to be a Sunday night. That was their best chance. Between 02:00 and 06:00 there was only one attendant. He worked just to have someone there. There were doctors and engineers minutes away ready to jump out of bed if something happened.

The attendant was not a nurse and was not assigned to wash Sally. He thought she was a vegetable and would stay a vegetable. He thought there was no harm in keeping her clean. He washed her at about 02:33 every Sunday night. He told her stories and assured her this and that. Sally knew they would not be long alone if she screamed. She didn't want the doctors to come running. She knew everyone working in the clinic was living on the grounds. That was one of the things the doctors loved to tell her. They told her about the herbs and the vegetables. The nearby woods. Sally had a good map in her head. She just needed one hand free.

The expert sponge washer would be her victim. He kept the lights dim when he came in to wash Sally.

"How are you tonight, Sally."

Sally smiled just a little. He knew she liked his sponge baths. He paid close attention to details.

"Shall we start with your feet."

Sally grunted. I'm going to smash your face.

"We better start with your shoulders."

Sally grunted and smiled. Shoulders meant breasts. But that was good. She tried to get her arm away from her body so that he could clean behind her breast. Back where the underarm was. That was more important than her nipples. He understood. He didn't know how to fix it though. Sally rattled her hand on her restraint.

"Oh, I guess it couldn't hurt to loosen your restraint if you promise to move slowly. Don't want to hurt anything."

Sally wanted to hurt someone. She watched as he undid the restraint. Then closed her eyes before he looked up at her. Very easy for him. He just pulled the thing apart. Sally noted the trick. No trick. He helped her move her arm slowly so that he could hold it and wash behind her breast. Sally opened her eyes just a bit and shut them again. She could have him with one hand but she saw he had forgotten where he was. He was humming. He put her left arm down gently without putting it in the restraint and walked around the bed. Sally watched him for a second. He didn't look at her. He looked at her perfect breasts. Those designed masterpieces.

Sally kept her breathing steady and her eyes closed and smiled. Just a little. His hands felt for her second restraint. For her own protection. Just for a few more days.

When she heard the second restraint open she opened her eyes and punch the grinning prick in the face.

"Fuck."

She wanted to punch him again but she heard a snap and was sure it was in her hand. She pulled off the leg restraints and flopped about for a second trying to get to the floor.

"Come on you fucking fucks. Move."

Sally didn't recognize her legs.

"What the fuck are these things."

See saw her reflection in the door window and screamed. The scream led to hyperventilating. Which turned out to be good. After a minute she had control of her body. She knew it at once. She knew where Billy was. She was in motion.

Just about the same time the assistant wondered what hit him, Sally burst out her door, kicked in the unlocked door to the next room and found Billy.

Billy didn't recognize her.

"Billy. It's me. Sally. They put me in a different body."

"Wow."

Billy still wasn't getting the picture so Sally pulled out the feeds and tried to get him to stand up.

"We gotta go, Billy. Come on."

"We do."

"Billy, it me Sally. Last time you saw me we were smoking a joint in a red sport's car you stole for me."

Billy smiled.

"Are you on drugs."

"My muscles are."

"Oh fuck. I'll carry you."

"You will."

Sally rammed her shoulder into his stomach a little too hard but managed to get her arms around him.

"You are a fat fuck."

"I love you too."

Sally laughed and flung him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Machines weren't happy. Sally wobbled to the window and looked out.

"Fuck."

She ran to Billy's door just as the attendant came to see what the hell was going on. Where the hell was Sally. If anyone found out what he did. He was so fucked. Sally lifted her elbow to hit his face and ran over him and down the first stairwell.

Billy was reaching around to feel Sally's breasts. He was mostly curious. She didn't mind. He was always allowed to touch her.

Billy watched walls race by him. Upside down. He heard the stairway door slam opened. He watched the stories go by. He didn't think to count them but he sometimes noticed the numbers on the doors as they passed them. One number was 14. Another was 11. The next was 8. Then 4. Then 3.

Three was where they went by. Stopped suddenly and went back to 3 and through it. He then started to wonder if it might be easier for the woman who said she was Sally if he used his feet. He was sure they should work.

"You can put me down."

Sally did just that. Billy fell down.

"Oh, for fuck sake, Billy. If you're faking, I'll kill you. We really have to go."

"I think I can walk if you hold me up. Never used these before. They're brand new."

Billy smiled down at his legs. They looked great. It was hard to imagine they were his.

"I heard they were top of the line. They are proud of your legs. I'm sure they work."

"I know them. I was there when they grew."

Sally had mentally prepared for the problem of people rushing in to see what had happened. Why was no one answering. Why no feeds on the patients. She had the window opened. The room was dark except for moonlight. A vacant floor. It didn't look like the clinic. But it had beds and bed sheets. Sally tied a sheet around Billy. Then a sheet to the sheet to the sheet and several more and a curtain and a few other things before she lowered him out the window. She tied the end to a bed and hurried down to the ground to untie Billy.

She pulled him up to his feet.

"Can you run."

"I can run. You just get me started."

He couldn't run but everyone was still panicking in the clinic so they half ran toward the woods without being seen. They hoped.

It was nighttime so they had that advantage. The disadvantage they had was that the moon was overhead. And they had no idea where they were or where they might rather be, other than gone.

So they headed into the nearest trees and stopped hurrying for a minute. Sally pounded on Billy's legs.

"You feel that."

"Yes."

"Concentrate on moving."

"I'm trying, Sally."

Sally grabbed his arm and pulled Billy along.

"You are going to owe me a serious rub down."

"Sally."

"What."

"You are so beautiful I find it hard to believe I'm awake."

"Aren't you used to me being beautiful. Come keep moving."

"You didn't look like that."

Billy stopped looking at Sally and watched where he was going.

He laughed.

"What's the joke, Billy."

"We are running barefoot through the woods at night under the shadows of a shining moon draped in white sheets."

Sally realized Billy was having too much fun. But that was what they were doing before they were taken away. They crashed the car like they sometimes did and ran away. It was easy to wonder if they had died in the crash and were trapped inside Billy's limbo.

"Bullshit."

"What."

"This hurts too much to be a dream. My fucking hand is killing me."

"What did you do."

"I punched that prick in the face."

"Really."

"Really. And if you don't start running, I'm going to kick you in the ass."

"You are so beautiful, Sally."

"Run."

Billy had never seen such a face on Sally. It woke him up a bit. Confused him more. He started running. It started as a steady walk that got quicker until he was running steady.

"Hey, Sally. These legs are way better."

"What the fuck happened to us, Billy."

Billy stopped and took in a few deep breaths.

"We were in an accident."

"This is someone else's body. And you. All new parts. Bigger and stronger."

Sally looked to see if Billy's penis was the same. She wasn't sure. They hadn't had much opportunity to run naked through the woods.

"I like how mine feels. It feels really fit, Sally. You too. Your beautiful body is really fit."

"So, tell me that makes any sense."

"Maybe they were testing new medicine and surgery. We would have died so why not try. I don't know."

"I don't think so."

Sally and Billy climbed down a ravine and were certain that they had lost their pursuers. If they even had any. Billy wanted to have some more cover. He was sure they would look for them. He wasn't sure why Sally wanted to run.

Then he heard it. So did Sally. A helicopter.

"Fuck. How did they find us."

"Our body heat."

"Wolves and deer have body heat."

"They walk on four legs. But they would have to know where to look."

"What's that mean."

"Chip, maybe."

"Chip."

"We might have an identification chip."

"Why the fuck would we have that."

"Someone spent a lot of resources on us."

This was a problem if they wanted anonymity. A chip was very small. It could be anywhere and they might even have several.

"We will keep moving while we think. They can't land a helicopter here."

As soon as they started moving the helicopter moved directly over them.

They could have, those they people in the helicopter, shouted over a loud speaker: You cannot escape us. But they didn't; it was likely redundant.

"I wish I knew where we were."

"How would that help."

"It's called association, Billy. You know things. Can figure out what things are better and do those things."

Billy laughed. He loved it when Sally started thinking about things.

"What."

"I agree. What things would you like."

"Mexico City might be good. We could dress up like Mexicans and it would be hard to find us even with the chips."

Not really. Maybe a little.

Billy looked at Sally's long golden hair. Maybe Finland would be better. What was the big city in Finland. Not Glasgow. Hellsinking. They had it once in geography.

"What if we split up."

"Then they get another helicopter."

"Then we have to cut out the chips."

"To do that we need to know where they are and have a knife."

Luckily for Sally and Billy, they were not expected to want to leave the clinic so each only had one chip. The chips were for identification. And several other functions. Not really in case they ran away.

Sally and Billy were having trouble getting through the woods. They both had to tie their sheets around their waste or have them constantly hanging on tree branches.

"This is fucking crazy, Billy."

"I hear water."

"Good. Why is it good."

"If it's big enough we can hang onto a log and maybe float out of this jungle."

The helicopter stayed with them for a while then left.

Sally and Billy washed up on the bank of the river a long way from where they had jumped in. They rested a while to rub their muscles and pick some berries. The helicopter was gone. Maybe a crew would be sent in the morning to recover their bodies. Billy didn't imagine they would be assumed dead. The more he thought about it the more he figured they might want the opposite. They went through a lot of trouble to keep them alive.

Sally and Billy left the woods in the early morning wearing sheets. The morning after a toga party. They could likely get quite a ways with that story but they opted for stealing clothes out of a charity container.

"This is a nice T-shirt. Try it."

Sally dropped her robe and tied it into a skirt. Billy watched as she covered her new breasts with a green T-shirt.

"Billy."

"Jesus, Sally. I'm having trouble with your body."

"Me too. I'm not old enough for it yet."

"I can't even imagine that. One thing for sure. You look good. You make that bed sheet look like designer fashion."

Sally smiled. Billy was good at being kind and generous with people. Sally was used to his compliments. But not on her shape.

"So. You're perfect. I need some shorts or something."

Billy found another T-shirt he liked and put it on. He had to do a lot of digging before he found some rather baggy but good shorts. They stuffed the unwanted clothes back into the container.

An old woman with a dog stopped to watch them.

"Those clothes are for poor people."

"Just cutting out the middle man."

"What you doing."

"We were in a little accident and lost our clothes. We have no money."

"Okay, dear. If I had some money I would give you some. But when I'm walking Dali I don't have money with me."

Sally watched the old lady talk to Billy about her dog for a few minutes before she continued on her walk with Dali.

"Jesus, Billy. I don't know how you do that."

"Do what."

"I would have told the bitch to go fuck herself."

"Because you have yet to understand quantum entanglement."

"Oh, fuck your physics. She could have minded her own business."

"Maybe it is her business. She lives around here. Maybe she puts clothes in there for the poor and wants them to go to the poor."

Sally laughed and slugged him in his shoulder.

"What."

"Nothing. Keep being Billy, Billy. I think you are the coolest. But we do need to keep moving."

"Okay. Let's move."

**chapter 02 _ sally and billy head to canada**

Sally and Billy decided to keep heading in the direction they were going. They decided against stealing a car. They decided on hitchhiking. It took less than a minute to get a ride.

A hairy looking guy in a pickup truck travelling north on interstate 93 on his way to Missoula. Frank Zappa was singing, Going to Montana soon, going to be a dental floss tycoon. The driver turned it down enough to talk.

"Where you all going."

Sally decided a quick answer that might not be true was better than saying she didn't have a clue.

"Canada. To see our Aunt Lilly."

The hairy man looked at Sally and frowned.

"You're in some kind of trouble."

Sally and Billy thought he meant with him. He did have a shotgun in the back window. He noticed them get a bit edgy.

"Not with me. I mean I can see you are in some sort of a fix. I've been in fixes before so I know what they look and smell like. You ain't gotta worry if it's with the cops. I ain't gonna rat you out."

They drove for a few more miles looking at the pleasant scenery before Sally decided on the truth.

"We don't have an Aunt Lilly."

"And she ain't in Canada I'd guess."

The hairy man, hairy because he had long hair and a fairly long beard, held the steering wheel with his knee as he rolled a joint.

"Helps me think."

After he finally had it rolled, he put it between his teeth and took the steering wheel in hand.

"I grow it myself. It ain't too strong but it's free."

He was talking a bit to himself and forgot there was a boy in the truck.

"Either one of you smoke."

Sally and Billy both shook their heads. Not for this ride.

"Well tell me your troubles and maybe we can sort them for you."

Sally explained about escaping from a clinic and being followed by a helicopter and the hairy man was so impressed he laid his joint in the ashtray and forgot it.

"First off, we gotta get those chips out or you not going to have no chance. I know someone."

The hairy man was on a mission. He didn't show it in his expression but he was having fun. A surprise adventure.

When they got to the city center, the hairy man parked the truck in front of an animal clinic.

"Now don't be alarmed. An animal doctor gotta know as much about doctoring as a people doctor and this one won't be reporting you on account he's my cousin."

Sally and Billy followed the hairy man into the clinic. A bell rang when the door opened and again when it closed. Nobody was to be seen in the front waiting room. Including no animals with their people protectors.

"Be with you in a minute."

"It's me, Ron."

"Jimmy. Come on back."

Ron almost cut the balls off a dog when he looked up and saw Sally. Sally thought she had scarred him with her fish head because her brain still wasn't quite up to speed on the understanding that she wasn't that little girl anymore.

"Ya have to excuse Ron, he don't see many pretty women in his job. Hardly even in this town."

Sally managed not to blush too much.

"This here is Sally and her brother Billy. They got a bit of some urgent trouble and I've told 'em you gonna help 'em."

"They got a sick cat."

Ron finished making a eunuch of the dog, not really, but that's what he thought of the operation, and put him back in his cage before throwing his rubber gloves into a garbage bin.

"They's got tracker chips in 'em and don't like who's trackin' 'em."

"What. You being tracked now. What kinda cops you got on yer tail."

"Relax Ron. They think they are dead so we got some time."

"Okay. Maybe we got time. Most likely in your hands or arms. If you're lucky."

Jimmy left them to it and went out front to have a look out the window. Watch out for any shady looking characters that didn't belong looking about. As far as Jimmy could tell there was nothing amiss. There were a few old people walking up the other side of the street but they looked like they weren't in a hurry to be looking for runaways. Jimmy checked the sky to see if any drones or helicopters were zoning in. He wondered who Sally and Billy were. What were they up to and who was after them.

Ron started with Billy, running his thumbs over Billy's hands and up his arms for a few seconds.

"Here it is. It ain't deep but I do have to cut you."

Billy nodded. After growing new limbs and having his skull rebuilt, a little cut was nothing. He watched Doctor Ron clean the spot with a smelling of alcohol cotton ball and put orange stuff on the area then put a little slice on that spot and with tweezers pulled out the small chip and put it on a tray. Billy examined the chip. He wanted to keep it but put it back on the tray. Ron repeated the procedure with Sally knowing where to look for the chip.

"Don't go swimming for a couple days and leave the tape on. It will hold the skin together so the scar won't be much at all."

Jimmy came back in and pocketed the chips.

"Thanks Ron. I'll call you. We'll smoke a bag of grass on the weekend. Maybe drink a beer."

"Sounds good."

"Yes, thanks Ron. For your help."

Ron put his hand on Billy's shoulder.

"Happy to help. Just one thing."

"Money."

"No no. Christ. Just wanted to tell you that those chips were easy to find. They didn't have to be."

"Okay. I get your meaning. Thanks again."

When they got out to the street, Jimmy noticed a cat picking at some fish bones it had ripped out of a garbage bag.

He took his knife out as he patted the cat.

"Nice kitty. Don't your owner feed you."

The cat purred as Jimmy put a small slice in its collar and wedged the chips in.

"Now best we get you on your way. Someone might be looking for those chips."

So the cat went casually on its way and the people climbed back into Jimmy's pickup truck and headed toward the station.

Artemis was half paying attention to the gramophone. She didn't bother with it so often but her grandfather was pretty happy with his 63 records. All from a time before Artemis was part of the world.

"You think you're so clever and classless and free, but you're still fucking peasants as far as I can see."

Mr. Lennon wrote that. Grandpa would say. The songs on the albums always reminded her of things her Grandfather had told her in their lessons. You cannot call a culture high if it makes a part of the population slaves, no matter when they are from. You cannot call a culture high if there is a small percentage of elite and the rest peasants. That is just another form of slavery. The many working for the few. That is not only not high. It is down right low. It is sad, brutal and mean. There is a better way to do it.

All the stories, some somewhat based on real events, some fables representing real events, tell of Kings and Queens and all the other titles that represent more equal than the other animals.

There has yet to be a high culture, at least in recorded history, on this planet.

Now that isn't to say there couldn't be a real civilized culture in the future. Things were getting better in some places but if that better depends on the plundering of resources and the wars that go with it and cheap labour, we are still not civilized.

Artemis could almost see her grandfather explaining such a story to such a song. They are trying to talk to us, he would say.

Artemis understood what her grandfather was telling her. Life on the farm was not representative of much of the rest of the world. Artemis decided she wanted to kill a turkey.

Sally and Billy still had no real idea where they were going. Jimmy had taken them to the Bus Station, gave them some cash and told them they should be all right as long as they got to somewhere else and blended in.

Truth was, he didn't know. He didn't want the authorities seeing him with a couple fugitives and thought it was time to cut out of their adventure while he still could.

So should they continue north to Canada. It wasn't very far. Or south to Mexico. That was too far away. Was there any other option. Either east, the direction of home. That would be too crazy. Or west to the coast. Swim away.

"North is our best choice."

"I wonder if that is our smartest choice."

"Maybe not. But if we are fast enough, maybe we can get to Canada first."

"Okay. If it's the best place to go. We go."

"Let's look at the map."

Sally was getting uneasy. Nervous and ready to be insulted at the slightest thing. One might put it up to surprise premenstrual stress. But that would be oversimplifying Sally's condition.

"Whitefish."

"Sounds good."

It was good that they came to a decision before they attracted too much attention. They went to the ticket machine and punched in two tickets for Whitefish. It wasn't far but it was over a hundred miles and that was at least a start.

The other advantage of Whitefish was that the bus was leaving in three minutes. They ran out to the bus, showed the driver their tickets and took a seat a few rows back. The front seats were taken by two old women who both looked at Sally as if she was a bad mother. She didn't notice.

Neither she nor Billy noticed an obvious out of place unmarked car with darkened windows coming from the south into town as their bus was leaving. It wouldn't have changed anything, knowing. It was better to think of the cat in a dry storm sewer. Believing the chips were tracking devices gave the two fugitives hope.

Sally, now that she was sitting in a bus with little to do, was aware of her body. She touched her tit for a minute to wonder about it. A bit sore. It felt real. Just not like hers. She was still holding her tit, trying to understand it and feel familiar with it when she thought about something she heard from adults among other adults. Puberty is hell. If that was true, she had her hell years cut out of her life. She smiled. That would be something Billy might think up.

Billy was her age before going to the clinic. He was at the very start of puberty. He would have to go through it. But he was a guy. They didn't change much. Unless they got stupider. Billy was too smart already. He was sleeping against her other tit. Sally's little brother.

Heart, liver, lungs, Brain. She tried to remember what they had told her. They had explained that she was still her old self but not the same as she was. And things would get better. They already were much better. Just give it a little time.

What would her mother say if she could see her. She wouldn't believe her. How could she. Sally was Sally and didn't believe it. Her mother would think the strange woman who said she was Sally had killed Sally and was coming to torment her. Ruin her day. Can't you leave me in peace. Sally smiled at the idea of freaking out her mother. Silly goose. Sally would tell her mother things only Sally could have told her. One cigarette would join the many others in the overfilled ashtray and she would light another and have another sip of her wine.

Sally wasn't going to see her mother again. She was of little interest.

She and Billy would have to figure it out. Sally would have to play the older sister and get a job. Unless they could live in the woods. Playing older sister or mother was fun when the game didn't include survival. What the hell were they doing. Sally tried not to worry about making sense and concentrated on the world going by the bus window.

They had decided on Canada. They were on their way and getting close. They decided they must have been off the bus before every police force was advised of potentially dangerous terrorists. A young woman and her little brother. They were somewhere in the northwest.

"Being in a totalitarian military dictatorship isn't so bad if you are a nobody that says and does nothing to cause any element of alarm. Watch TV. Go to work. Pay taxes. Buy Chinese products with American branding."

"Sally."

"If you are tagged as the enemy. You are well fucked. Where the hell do you hide."

"Off grid."

"Oh."

So they pissed off north to find the boarder to the wilderness. Billy had been smart enough to steal a nice jackknife out of an opened car and Sally had stolen 12 candy bars from a gas station where they had gone to buy a map. They stole that too while the attendant was making a sandwich for a truck driver. The truck driver was a married, somewhat chubby, Porto Rican woman, otherwise the truck driver would have been a stereotypical beer belly touting dimwit that would have made rude conversation with Sally and then Billy would have had to steal the candy bars. Billy stole a lighter.

"Won't be long now."

"What you going to do."

"Fuck if I know. I've driven rig my whole life."

"The bloody robots are taking all our jobs."

Billy watched the two in conversation. He knew what they were talking about. Not real robots. Smart trucks. He knew that from school. Smart everything was coming. Robot delivery was coming. He didn't remember anything before that. He knew there were people that did. His mother was one of them. She didn't have a smartdevice when she was six. That's fascinating. Did you have toilets. Fuck off Billy, go play with your girlfriend.

Sally and Billy stole some rope and a big tarp. That would be enough until they got to Canada. There were berries in the woods. They could find a way to catch fish.

"Are you having fun, Billy."

"I was just wondering how to make a small dwelling before the winter."

"I'm a grown up, Billy. I can get a job as a waitress."

"You could get a job as a model. They make better money."

"You think."

"You could. I think we should go to Vancouver. We'll make up a story about how you and your brother got robbed, I don't know. But no worries. Everything's okay. I haven't done any modeling since I was young and our mother was alive but I would love to. I just need a place for me and my little brother to live. I'll make you enough money. I'll pay back the rent. To make it better, you could take me in with you. I could look really hungry and scared. My little brother wants to find a new school as soon as possible. No. The family is who robbed us. They stole everything our mother left us. We are running from them. They want to send Billy to a boy's only Catholic training temple in the mountains of Spain to become a priest. He is terrified of religion. It's a mind virus. He would go mad and this is the only thing I'm good at. Being exquisite."

"That's a nice story, Billy."

"It's an option. People get right silly when people look like you."

"Thanks Billy, for the warning."

Sally looked at Billy's erection.

"I'm going to catch a fish, Billy."

"I'll gather some wood."

"You do that."

Sally had tried with the spear she made. That turned out to be beyond her talent so she decided to try a different approach. The one Billy suggested while she was making the spear. She looked to see if Billy was gone, then built a dam with some rocks. It didn't hold the water but it forced the fish into a narrow path so that she simply pounced on them and eventually managed to get her hands around a small trout. She held it up to show Billy. The fish flipped out of her hands and almost found its way back to the river. Sally spun around and swatted it with a backhand and it landed on the ground.

"Nice move."

"Thanks."

"I like my new body, Sally."

"I know. Mine is a bit radical but I like it too."

"Totally radical."

Billy got out his pocketknife and stabbed the fish in the belly.

"How are you going to make a fire."

"I'll rub two sticks together."

Sally knew he could. He might need a string.

"Of course I could use my lighter."

"Idiot. We need another fish."

Sally bounced in the stream until she got another fish. She threw it toward Billy.

"One more."

"If you can. We got another day of hiking tomorrow."

"I'm coming to get you, little fishies."

Billy snapped some branches to make appropriate length firewood but didn't take his eyes off Sally. She came back with three more fish.

"Give me your knife."

Billy had forgotten that he had his knife stuck in a fish. He stopped looking at Sally and pointed to the first fish.

"You make a fire, I'll clean the fish."

"I've never seen anything more beautiful."

"What."

"You catching fish. I really hope I can see that once more before I die."

"Stop being an idiot and make a fire. I'm fucking hungry."

"Okay."

Billy devised some branches to hold the fish above the little fire. One fish fell into the flames but Sally snatched it out. There wasn't much fish on the fish but it was a good adventure and made them feel competent and one with the world. After their little fish feast they burnt all the fishy smelling leftovers and washed in the river.

They weren't certain where they were but figured they must be close to Canada. Sally and Billy got dressed and they continued their long hike in a northerly direction. With confidence and determination they weaved around trees and bushes and swatted at mosquitoes and other small flying creatures that were attracted to their warm body smells.

"Billy."

"What."

"I'm not living in the woods with a fucking tarp for very long."

"Let me be your manager. I think I know how we can do it."

Sally stopped and looked at him.

"You don't know what you look like. You can choose what jobs you want."

"Okay, Billy."

"Okay we do it."

"Okay, it's a nice story. I still don't see it."

"Come Sally, use your imagination."

"Okay, Billy. I'll imagine."

They were less than a mile from the Canadian boarder, a bit more than a kilometer if they had been over the boarder. Sally and Billy didn't care about miles or kilometers. They were focused on that boarder in the woods they were so certain had to bust out into a cut open space any time soon.

They were nearly to the fabled land of lumberjacks and fishermen. The land they called Canada. But it was just a dream. There was no real Canada. It was just some place people had heard of, like heaven, a place that would be the reward for making it out of purgatory.

Billy took Sally's arm to stop her. Something was wrong with the picture.

"Oh, very good Billy. Most people walk right into us."

Three men and one woman turned their camouflage suits to sleep mode.

"Billy, Sally is about to faint, can you catch her."

Sally fainted. Billy caught her.

"We will explain on the way. Come."

It was clear to Billy that he couldn't run with Sally in a slumber. He made a quick assessment of the situation. He could guess how they drugged Sally but he didn't know. Resistance really was futile.

"Okay."

Just a few steps outside the woods waited a helicopter. Sally was loaded and made comfortable. No one said anything for a while until Billy noticed they were landing.

"How long will Sally be unconscious."

"As long as it takes to get there."

"For what."

"To get where we are going and get you online to why we invest a lot of time and money on you and your friend."

"Are we in trouble."

"No. You were never in trouble. You are Daisy's prodigy."

"Daisy."

The man laughed. Prodigy didn't throw up flags. Daisy did.

"You will meet her when you get through training."

"What training."

"I'm going to like working with you, Billy."

"Is that good or bad."

"I'm pretty sure we will both enjoy it. Sally will as well."

"How did you find us."

"How do you find a bull moose in a china shop."

Billy thought for a seconded. Pictured it.

"If you can't see him, wait till he moves."

Billy was already having fun and he still didn't know what was going on. He knew it didn't matter that he couldn't remember where he left the tarp. He did still have a lighter and a small knife.

"Billy, the company is hard to explain. But they want you to work for them and you will be paid more than you would think to ask for."

"Is it legal."

"More than legal. Mostly."

"Why does Sally need to be unconscious. It's just she doesn't like being fucked with. She can get a little angry."

"As soon as we land. We need her to stay relaxed as long as we are flying."

"We're landing now."

"We are getting into a jet now. Are you hungry."

"No."

"I will show you everything when we get there."

Sally was carried into the jet and sat in a reclined position in a seat.

"You can talk to Sally, she can hear you. She might not be able to talk. If she wants to punch me later, at the camp, she is invited to try."

Sally had been ready to fight them all. She didn't care. She had taken on six boys before. To teach them a lesson. Not to pick on girls.

Billy preferred protocol. Billy liked the idea of programming for a rich company more than the idea of making Sally into a model.

Sally and Billy were left alone in their own seats. No more questions. Billy was curious. Not because of the money story but the company that can repair broken children and pick them up in a helicopter and transfer them to a jet. He wanted a laptop to put down a few ideas for a game. Billy leaned against Sally and looked out the window.

"I think that's the Caribbean down there, Sally."

A pelican flew above the water.

"Look, a pelican. I think. I think we're landing. Sally, I think we need to see what this is before we fuck off again."

Sally grunted.

"Can you avoid punching people."

"No."

"You're awake."

"Barely. Give me a minute."

"Sally."

"Um."

"Let me do the talking, okay."

Sally tried to punch him. But she couldn't move.

After two years of the company training camp, Sally was walking along the beach in her one-piece bathing suit still dripping from a long swim wondering why she was itching to pound someone. She had a hard time making herself tired. She wanted to actually kill someone instead of training with artificial intelligence helping her in a virtual world. She didn't mind the machine telling her what to do. Billy made her understand that machines were very intelligent at what they did. She got it. Witnessed it. She noticed how fast she had become equipped with skills. She wanted to use them.

The sky was blue, the ocean was green and the sand was white and there was no one around to bother her. She tried not to fret about it and watched the wet sand and the gentle waves wash over her toes as she splashed quietly along.

She knew she had become what she was best at. After two years of bloody training and intense coaching she was about as close to being a perfect assassination machine as a human could be. There would be stronger ones to follow as science and medicine opened new ways to enhance a living being. There were also those that had gone before and they were good at what they did. Killing was ingrained in the genes of the human primate. Primates that had gone before had killed as a matter of passage. It was in the nature of the beast. The world trend was toward less killing but the company needed a few specialists who were very good at it.

**chapter 03 _** **sally and billy's first assignment**

Growing up, Sally and Billy had fights in school like most American children did. Or most anywhere else. But until they got to their company training, neither of them had actually thought about killing anyone. At least not for real.

Billy, even though his body was not finished growing into an adult, could handle himself against two grown men. He had some amendments that gave him advantages. He trained in most of the things Sally trained. Just not as much. He had no desire to kill anyone. He wanted to program. He did like the idea of being Sally's wingman.

Their paradise island training had gone by too fast for both of them. They were being transported to Florida in a sailing yacht. They would be dumped back into the world without a life jacket. Just a bag of air and their clothes.

"Your first field assignment will show you weather or not you are ready. We wouldn't send you out if we didn't think so. But it is quite a leap the first time."

"We could say no."

"Sure you could. If you find something that makes you think someone shouldn't be assassinated, you can say no. You get paid for your work. It is a take it or leave it business. But we need you to do this one. It's your final exam. It's what you will be paid to do."

"We're good. Show us."

The photos and some details about the targets were shown on a tablet. Some information about the two men. Their names. The rest they would have to figure out. Sally and Billy had no money or weapons. That was part of the test. They would be jettisoned into the water close to Key West and they would start from there.

"This man is the disputed leader of Amar."

"He is easy to research."

"This man. Then there is this man. He is from Zod."

Sally didn't know anything about Amar or Zod. And she didn't care. She looked at Billy to see what he was making of it. He just gave her the, 'fuck if I know' look.

Two men. Sally read the information. She wasn't clear how killing them would help but she knew that killing is what was done. That was the game she had trained for. Perhaps if she stopped to think about it she might question her part in it, but she really didn't want to. Sally and Billy weren't playing judge and jury; they were fighting in a war. One of the undefined never-ending kinds of war. The company felt the need to intervene with termination on rare occasions.

It would be easy enough to shoot the two men from Amar and Zod with a rifle from just about anywhere. It wasn't, however, the plan and would not bring the desired effect.

Sally and Billy studied their assignment for a few hours and drank a lot of water on deck. They would need the water. They had a long swim ahead of them. They weren't disturbed until it was time to go.

"Put your closes in these bags."

Sally and Billy stripped and stuffed their clothes into waterproof bags.

"Remember. Stay safe. No hurry. The plan is most important. You need to know everything that might happen. If something else happens. Improvise."

"Okay."

"Stay invisible. We'll contact you after the job."

"Will we see each other again."

"I don't know. We might."

"Thanks for the training. It was the best two years of my life."

"Never heard that in all my years. Your welcome, my good man."

"Can we go."

"Sally wants to get going."

"Get going."

"Good-bye."

Sally jumped and Billy jump a few seconds after her.

"Nice night for a swim."

"Fucking great. I'm for swimming to land."

"Slowly, don't want to attract sharks."

"Are you serious."

"If I had a smartdevice I could tell you our chances."

"Take a wild guess."

"Close to zero."

"You are such a Billy."

"You are so beautiful in the pale moon light."

Sally laughed. Billy hadn't seemed to take the last few years at all seriously. He was still a kid on an adventure. Probably the best way to play it.

"Okay, Billy, how we going to play this part of the adventure."

They swam slowly toward a dark shore. There was air trapped in their bags. Enough to take a rest if they had to. They took turns lying on their backs. Mostly Billy swam with his bag under his head staring up at the stars.

"I love seeing the stars without light pollution. Even this isn't as clear as it would be on top of a mountain. And in the southern hemisphere. Like Australia, it's a whole different sky. There is no black sky when the sky is clear. It is a tapestry of lights that crosses the night sky. A blanket that holds the outer darkness at bay. These stars are our home."

"What do we need."

"I need the Internet. We need to steal a smartdevice. Then we will get to Miami."

Sally and Billy wandered into a small restaurant after a fair hike. The owner noticed that they were a little stressed and tired. If not completely confused and lost. He was about to close and would have said so if he wasn't the type to want to help those in distress.

He gave them a bottle of water and two glasses. He made them something to eat and listened to the story from the boy.

"You sleep here tonight. No problem. You know better tomorrow what you must do."

After they had eaten and washed up, the restaurant owner showed them to a back room with a bed and a cot. A washroom but no shower.

Billy went straight to sleep. Sally insisted on helping in the kitchen. She washed some dished and even mopped the floor. She was glad to have something to do where no one was staring at her. Her body was used to it but her brain wasn't quite up to speed on it.

When the wife of the owner came to open the restaurant in the morning, she was very impressed by the state of the kitchen. Her husband was a great cook, which was very good for their little business. He was not so great with cleaning.

He told her one of the kids that were sleeping in back had done it. She almost thought about getting upset. But it wasn't the first time strangers had stayed in the back room. Usually illegal immigrants from Cuba. But instead she shook her head and kissed her man. It was a blessing, she knew, to have a man that was compassionate and generous. She knew the other kind and didn't like that breed at all.

Sally was feeling much better than she had when she and Billy first happened into Jose's Restaurant. Jose's wife, Mary, had made them cookies to cheer up their day. Jose offered to pay Sally for her kitchen work but Sally wanted only to help in exchange for a place to sleep and to be fed. Billy enjoyed taking food and drinks to the customers and cleaning the tables when they left. They hadn't intended on staying at all but it turned out that they stayed several days. It was helping the two newly free to get reacquainted with what one could call normal people.

If anyone asked, they were relatives visiting from Whitefish. Jose's wife, Mary, was from California. Her ancestors were not from Mexico like Jose's were. A real American. Puritan Christian descendants of the invaders that massacred the natives and raped the land. Forced the natives to believe in the new religion and follow the new laws. So the story went when Jose told it.

Even though they spent the week at the little restaurant it seemed too soon, even for Jose and Mary, for Sally and Billy to be leaving for Miami. A second cousin of Jose needed to go up anyway so insisted on giving them a lift. Sally and Billy were fascinated with all the long bridges and little islands all the way up to Key Largo and finally to Miami.

Dr. David Silverstein was a big baseball fan. Not so uncommon in the United States of Sports Fans. Sally was to kill him at the game; any game would do, if possible. If not, she could take him after a game. Sally and Billy were up for the challenge. Billy was responsible for reconnaissance and planning. First objective was to look the part, so they both bought a Miami Merlin hat.

"Fish head."

Sally laughed at him.

Dr. David Silverstein had an appointment at the Casablanca on the Bay at the Hilton Grand Hotel. Sally had been tempted to kill him then and there but instead listened to Billy and waited. Enjoy the afternoon sun and walk along the water. When Billy was certain Sally was under her own control and prepared, he left her to go to the game.

Sally followed her mark at a safe distance, making all the moves of a seasoned tourist. She saw her reflection in a store window and was a little surprised to see a grown woman. Her hair was short and dyed brown to look plain under her Merlin's hat. She had no makeup. She wore flat shoes, faded but not ripped jeans and a thick cotton pullover to make her figure less noticeable. Under her breasts was a traditional knife of the particular clan that was to be responsible for the assassination. AMAR would be implicated. All men are rapists. Or something approximating that. Sally forgot what the acronym stood for. She also didn't care. It wasn't her concern. Not where she was focused.

She kept her head down to avoid surveillance cameras. She checked her smartdevice to see if she had any messages. The only messages would be from Billy. No one else knew her. His messages were all a little vague but they had been texting for over a year to get to know each other's messages. There was no one around to suspect her intent. She was just another student.

I study political protocol at the University of Miami.

Dr. David Silverstein had two fairly conspicuous bodyguards. Business associates. They went everywhere with the doctor. He was rich and paranoid. It made him the hardest of the two hits in Miami. Getting close enough to kill him relied on his need to piss.

"Tickets. Who needs tickets."

Sally sauntered up behind her hit as he started haggling for 3 tickets. She couldn't believe he hadn't already bought his tickets. He was acting the stereotypical Jew, as those old stories told, trying to save a few bucks. She almost laughed. She didn't. She paid attention to avoid getting noticed whilst Dr. David Silverstein made his bid.

"But the game has already started."

"It's still the first inning. I'll likely lose my last ticket."

They finally settled on a price. After they had taken their leave, Sally fished in her pocket for some cash. The scalper watched her.

"You alone."

Sally looked at the scalper quickly. Then back at her hand full of small bills.

"It's my last ticket."

"I'd love to see the game but I haven't too much money."

"Oh, for fuck sake."

"I study political science at the University of Miami. Just moved here."

The scalper didn't care where Sally was from or where she was going. He took the money and gave her the ticket before she started telling him about her sick grandmother and her operation she couldn't afford.

The ticket was for the seat next to her hit so sitting down there was out of the question. She made herself as invisible as possible and wandered around keeping an eye on Dr. David Silverstein. It was an incredible place. She watched people buying big paper cups of various carbonated sugar beverages and nacho chips with orange stuff on them. Hot dogs and chips. Billy texted that he had visuals. That gave Sally a little more flexibility. She went to the Woman's washroom to check if the knife still sat right. If she perspired too much the tape might slip from her skin. She was still in the washroom when Billy texted her that he saw a bird. Since Dr. David Silverstein was the only topic, it meant he might be going for a piss. He was getting out of his seat without his bodyguards. This could be her chance. Likely a washroom break, it was the only thing he would do on his own. For food or drinks he would send one of his goons. Ah, guards. Associates. Sally slipped her rubber gloves on inside the Woman's washroom before slipping into the big hall to see who was watching the Men's washroom. No one. The game was interesting enough that there weren't many leaving it. The crowd was loud and excited. Dr. David Silverstein must have really needed to piss. Sally slipped into the Men's washroom and locked herself in a stall and removed the knife from under her breasts.

Sally listened for all movements. Being caught in the Men's washroom wouldn't be a big problem unless she was killing someone. The kill was only going to work if he was alone. A few more seconds went by with no sounds other than the humming of the overhead lights. One of the taps dripped slowly. The place smelled a little of piss but mostly of disinfectant.

Finally, the famous Dr. David Silverstein entered the abattoir to relieve himself. He tried the door where Sally sat before entering the second next stall. Was he going to sit to piss. That might not be good. But that couldn't be. Why did he not use a urinal like everyone else. Sally thought about circumcision and other Jewish traditions. She didn't know so much about penis rituals. But no, he was standing to piss.

She left her stall and looked at the lock on the stall where Dr. David Silverstein was still pissing. It was locked. He wanted his privacy. No one looking at his circumcised penis while he had it out in public. Sally looked up and down. She would have to choose one. And fast. No footsteps in the hall. Crowd still roaring. She went over the door with knife in hand. Dr. David Silverstein heard her coming but wasn't quick enough to wonder about turning around while he was still pissing. He did look up to see the movement, which only left his neck wide open for Sally.

He was so flabbergasted and confused that he didn't even think to scream before it was too late. Sally fell on him with her knife around his neck. He smacked his head against the wall and was still pissing all over the toilet when he managed to stand up. He wasn't even certain he wasn't just imagining things until he realized his neck was open and gushing blood. He finally collapsed face down in the toilet.

Sally took everything out of his pockets and was on her way out of the stadium. No one noticed her wandering away, stopping to look at photos on the wall before dropping the knife into a garbage bin full of food waist. Later she dropped her thin rubber gloves in a different garbage can outside the stadium. And then dropped the tape and the plastic bag the knife had been in into yet another bin a block from the stadium. No one noticed because no one was looking for a protagonist to a crime for another 12 minutes when a fat man came out of the men's washroom screaming.

She texted Billy when she was outside the Stadium and off the grounds. Coffee. He was watching her from across the street and followed her for a while. He wanted to see if he could notice what an assassin looked like after her first kill. Then he spotted a break in traffic and crossed the road.

"How did it go."

"Well enough. I was freaking for a bit when I stood outside the stall and wondered if I should go under or over. After that it all just went."

"How do you feel."

"Better."

Billy nodded and checked the news feeds on his smartdevice while they took some time to relax in a park overlooking Dodge Island. They would spend the night in the Century Hotel at the south end of Miami Beach. The beach was nearby as well as a pleasant park right next to the water. Billy had booked it for a few days.

"Did you get some credit cards."

"Here, have a look."

Sally gave Billy the doctor's wallet.

"Oh, very good. Oh, look, he has a pile of cash."

"We can celebrate our first job."

"Half a job."

"You don't think we should celebrate."

"I think we should celebrate any time you want to."

"Where should we go."

"Somewhere on the beach. But first I have to do these transactions. They'll all be shut down soon. It would be a shame to waist his money."

They relaxed on a park bench and Billy started on the credit cards. Sally stretched her legs out and smiled at Billy before looking to see what moved.

"How soon before you can buy me a car instead of steal one."

"Give me a few more minutes."

Sally laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Take your time. I don't want a car. A nice restaurant. You know what I want."

"Sometimes."

Sally waited until he was done with his business transactions. There seemed to be many of them. Sally watched Billy scan all the identification and all the cards. That she understood. After that, a cluster of things happened before Billy stopped his tapping and looked at Sally.

"What do you want, Sally."

"Ostrich."

"Dead or alive."

The next morning Sally and Billy got into a taxi and went back to the park they had been in the day before across from Dodge Island. Billy knew their target's daily movements as well as could be known. Muhammad Amon Islam would come out of the mosque Masjid al-Fayza just the next street up from the park. When he did, Billy and Sally stayed a fair distance behind him as he walked up the street to his favourite café.

Sally sat outside on a stool next to the street and didn't pay attention to Muhammad Amon Islam. He sat inside next to the window and ordered his coffee. Sally did the same at her little table. Billy took a walk. Sally tried not to wonder about Muhammad Amon Islam. He didn't really look like someone who had to die. He was polite to the waiter. He ordered something to eat. Sally ordered a piece of blueberry pie. She watched the people walk into the automatic banking outlet and people walk into Startcup Coffee before walking by her and looking to see what they could see of her. She mostly kept her head down and looked at her smartdevice even though there was nothing she was looking at.

Muhammad Amon Islam noticed Sally. The back of her. He didn't suspect her of being his death sentence; he just hadn't noticed her before. He couldn't see her face. Just the way she sat made him curious. She could be a student or a tourist. She wasn't Moslem. This annoyed him a little but he lived in a city full of non-Muslims.

He found himself going from admiring her to not liking her. He didn't like it that students came to his café. It wasn't his but it was his spot. Oddly, he was also not pleased that she ignored him. He was a man of power and she should know that by looking at him. She just stared at her bloody smartdevice or looked at the traffic on the street.

Sally got a text. He looks.

Sally paid for her coffee and pie and left. She was careful not to make eye contact with Mr. Islam when she wandered up the street. South in the direction where Muhammad Amon Islam lived.

The street had many little shops and Sally stood and looked in the window of most of them and when she saw Mr. Islam come out of the café she went into a store to look at some shoes.

After looking at and holding a few she went back out onto the street to follow her target. He was a little uneasy, she could tell. His instinct was warning him but like most people he didn't really believe in instinct.

Sally knew the route he would take. She also knew where he would be out of sight from surveillance cameras. He liked to walk through Simpson Park on his way home. Sally put her thin rubber gloves on when they got to the park. She let the plastic bag fall into a litter basket as she took the ceramic knife in her fist and started jogging at a relaxed pace.

He heard her step on a twig and turned around.

"It's you. I saw you."

Yes it is.

He didn't see the knife. He was too surprised to be seeing this young woman that caught his attention at the café. The knife went straight into his throat. The thrust knocked him back as he tried to grab at Sally but only managed to grab the knife. Sally let it from her grip and kept walking. There was no DNA on the knife. Other than that of Muhammad Amon Islam.

She heard him fall into the bushes but did not look back.

It was done. Her first assignment. Their first assignment.

Coffee. Sally texted. They would go to the Hard Rock Café for a burger and fries or chicken wings before going back to the beach to take the rest of the day off.

The evening news told of the murder of Muhammad Amon Islam and the possible connection to the brutal murder at the stadium the day before of Dr. David Silverstein. Some news reports suggested a tribal war between two clans of Miami. Some reports declared a tie to the events in Miami and the events in Israel and Palestine. Some blamed the war in Syria. A few speculated that Iran had the bomb. They all told that Muhammad Amon Islam had been murdered. And so had Dr. David Silverstein.

There had been no statement from either side. No one could be reached for comments.

Sally had a meeting the next day in Grand Beach Hotel by one of the pools. It was her first meeting with Daisy. Sally watched the woman approach the table and knew it was Daisy. She had an air of 'I'll be kind and polite, but don't fuck with me.' Sally liked her and smiled when she sat down.

"Hi, Sally."

"Hi, Daisy."

Daisy smiled. She looked over at the waiter and he came immediately. They ordered coffee and waited until he was gone to continue talking.

"You and Billy make a good team. You have graduated from your training course with high regards. You don't get a diploma though you both would be entitled to doctorate degrees. You are qualified for your job. I will, the company will, Billy will, give you a comfortable basic income and an apartment in Washington. You will have a personal management possession. Hiring and firing."

"Hiring."

"Not yet. You will also be a consultant and a company representative. You make your money consulting and representing Erapa."

"All right."

Sally questioned how she was anything other than an assassin but she knew she had to be officially something if she was to be legitimate. Or whatever it was one needed to be to dance among the rich.

"Billy will keep doing his programming and research. You'll see. It's all in here."

The woman put a leather folder on the table.

"This is your starter kit. Two driver's license, passports, bank account numbers in the name of your consulting company, Erapa company credit cards for when not on a job. You get whatever you need for a job. Fifty thousand petty cash. Buy some nice clothes. You have to be suited for life among the wealthy business class now. Your company works for the company."

The waiter came and brought two mixed fruit drinks.

"Thank you."

The woman put some keys on the table.

"These are to your apartment in Washington and the black Volvo that you will find out front of the hotel."

Sally nodded.

"Stay in top hotels. It's your company's image. Show success. Your company is real and will make a lot of money with what Billy is doing. You will make money saving companies money. Real companies. You can read the web page as of today. Erapa. You'll learn more about that later. Still much to do. Much of what it will be is what you and Billy make it."

Daisy asked Sally about her two years training. Sally told her how Billy was barely on the ground when he started programming. She wasn't sure she wanted to stay but her sport's trainer had challenged her on the trip down. She was going to punch him in the face if it took two years to be able to do it.

"He said."

"He was lucky that Billy was his friend. Or I might have really hurt him."

Daisy laughed.

"You weren't mad at him all that time."

"No. I wasn't mad after my first night of sleep in a bed. Billy wouldn't let me stay mad. He said it was an adventure we had to take. Billy knew. He had it figured in the clinic. It wasn't his idea to leave."

"Billy is a clever young man."

"He is addicted to figuring things out. He loves to make sense of things."

"Let him make sense of this."

Daisy put her hand on the leather folder.

They both watched a waiter serve another table until he went back inside.

"Okay, Sally. You and Billy can do as you please and go where you please between assignments. We need you for another job in three weeks. There will usually be more than enough time between jobs. You let us know if you have any problems getting something you want or need. Even if you are in jail in Mexico, we'll find you and get you out."

Sally nodded. What kind of crazy shit had they gotten themselves into.

Daisy waited for a minute while she thought what she might want to tell Sally. She stood up to leave.

"Go have some fun with your cards. Consider it an assignment to fit in with rich people."

"Okay. We'll give it our best. I'll try not to hit anyone."

Their apartment was in Washington DC but before driving to their new home Billy wanted to visit Walt Disney World and Cape Canaveral. Suddenly they were rich kids instead of poor kids. If nearly three years is sudden. They figured they would start with three days and nights in Disney's Coronado Springs Resort.

Sally wasn't too comfortable with the other tourists but she figured it would be good training for her self-control.

Once they were on their way wandering through Epcot, Sally relaxed and was as interested as Billy was in the fascinating exhibits. By the time they had seen enough of Epcot they had had three snacks and four coffee breaks, the fresh squeeze grapefruit juice kind, and the sun was getting low in the sky.

"Pretty amazing, ain't it."

"Sure is Billy. What would you say to an amazing evening meal and chilling for the rest of the evening."

"I can deal with that. Tomorrow we can do Rock 'n' Roller Coaster and check out the studio stuff and take the monorail and take a look at Magic Kingdom. Maybe go for a boat ride or go to the Animal Kingdom Park. We could do the water park too."

Sally smiled. She knew she was supposed to be a kid too but her new older body and her two years of training had ebbed her enthusiasm for childish pleasures. She was clever enough not to say so. And she knew that when Billy was having fun she would fall into step with him. She might be able to forget the surprised look on the face of Islam. As she jabbed and twisted a knife into his throat.

Artemis had finished cleaning up the kitchen and helped her grandmother get to bed.

"Bless you, Dear."

Artemis smiled. She couldn't remember the last time her grandmother used her name. Artemis suspected she wasn't certain who she was. Just that she was family. Artemis sat down on the porch with a mug of tea and an old Reader's Digest magazine. She had read all the articles a few years earlier but had the goal to read through them all again from oldest to newest. The newest wasn't that new. Grandmother had, or maybe Grandfather had, cancelled the subscription before Artemis had come to stay with them.

Grandfather had been much more wild than Grandmother. He hadn't been a mad conspiracy theorists but he questioned just about anything that had been propagated as the official story. Artemis smiled at the thought of him. He had been very enthused about teaching her everything he knew. Before he had gone.

Artemis took her empty mug and a Reader's Digest from the 1984 back into the kitchen and instead of heading off to bed went up to Grandfather's library. She sat at his big old desk that he had made many years ago and picked up the folder with a few short stories he had written.

"It's good to write, Artemis. It helps you think. It doesn't have to be true to be true."

Artemis knew what he meant.

A Fable of a Totalitarian Police State Dictatorship called The One World Order where the laws are the laws from the fables in the Torah and the High Priests are the Rulers of the Aftermath.

Artemis smiled. She remembered the story as he had her read it to him. The title was a bit off the wall but it didn't matter. It was just a story. She read it aloud just for the practice and to hear her own presence.

All the town's people were gathered in the market for the daily beheadings. It was a grand event that most everyone loved. Or at least seemed to, judging by their animated approval of the event. There were no beheadings on the Sabbath, of course, on account it was a holy day of rest. And everyone was to go to synagogue.

The mayor took to the podium and smiled at the crowd. Raising his arms to the cheers before slowly bringing them down to bring quiet to the mob. His people.

"Today we have three beheadings."

The crowd cheered. Okay, let's be truthful. Other than the town's officials, most of the common people were not as big of fans of beheadings as one might hope. It was their frequency. If only really bad people on occasion, maybe once or twice a week, that might be healthier. And it would still get the point across. Trouble with one or more per day was that most of the town's people had lost a family member or close friend. The other thing was, if you were caught not cheering at the acts of the government. You lost your head.

"Mr. Johnston. Please come on down to meet your maker."

Mr. Johnston. Father of six children and owner and operator of a mill that almost made enough money to feed his kids but not buy them shoes or toys or books was dragged to the podium.

"Tell us your crime Mr. Johnston."

"I found a two monitory unit on the street and used it to buy a fist full of pig's fat to smear on my children's bread."

There was no point making excuses why. It would indicate that there could be something not pleasing with the town's wealth distribution.

"And what had you rather done."

"I should have taken the money to the authorities and reported that someone had lost it."

"That's right Mr. Johnston. Someone is missing those 2 units and you are guilty of taking ownership of what isn't yours. And the penalty for your crime is beheading."

The crowd was silent. For now was the time for prayer.

"Dear God Almighty. Our heavenly father. God of mercy and justice. God of our grandfathers and God of our grandchildren in generations to come. God unchanging and everlasting. You have told us..."

The sum of it was: spare the sword; spoil the hoard. The law must be followed to the letter or there would be lawlessness. And that would be the end of order.

Well they put Mr. Johnston's head over a cutting block and hacked it off with a dull but heavy ax. After three swings and a bit of kicking, the head fell from the shoulders of Mr. Johnston of Johnston and Sons Mill Work.

"One God. One word. One law."

And the crowd repeated the chant.

"Our second criminal for today is a blasphemer."

"Thou shalt not blaspheme."

"Come on down, John Rahston."

The crowd cheered as John Rahston was taken to the podium.

"And do you want to tell us your crime before you lose your head."

"Bleeding Jesus on a stick you better believe that I do. I have something to say to you and the rest of your high priest friends who rule with ancient laws from fables. You are clever but disgusting. I'd like to smash your face. You have sold us only lies. You make us build temples to sanctify your lies. You mocking tyrant of hell. You worshipper of death. You thief of innocence. You are good at giving out your grand titles. Holy this and grand master that. You have taken away eternity and put it in a box. You destroyer of all that is good. You put a price on everything, air, water and the rock. You are a servant of death. I will not be bullied by your terror dictatorship. You think that we are blind. That we don't see your tricks. Fuck your hocus pocus. You evil lying prick. I rebuke your stolen with violence authority."

John Rahston took a breath and looked at the crowd that had been shocked into silence. They should have booed but they had missed their cue. The mayor hadn't even noticed. He was bemused at the not so humble outburst. He just looked at the man and tried to rearrange an appropriate way to respond. He decided on a question.

"Are you done. John Rahston."

"No. I haven't even gotten warmed up. I have prepared a speech and will give it before you have your big gorilla star whacking at my head."

Now it was the law that the criminal was free to speak his last words before losing his or her head. It was the law. A law had to be adhered to by all, especially in public. For the law was holy. And without law there would be lawlessness.

Artemis wondered at the abrupt end to the story. Was there a way out for someone who had been condemned to death.

She thought about writing an ending to the story. Some other day. For the day was drawing to an end and she had to be up early to milk Nelly and Beatrice. They wouldn't be upset if she was late, just worried. And Artemis didn't like to worry the goats. They were kind enough to let her have their milk. And the chickens would have an egg or two for her. Maybe with the other three in the cool box she could make an omelet for breakfast. She liked that idea. What would she put in the omelet. There was a ripe tomato. Maybe a pepper. Chives for sure.

For lunch time, perhaps a fish. She could take the time to spear one. Maybe she would shoot a wild turkey. A pheasant perhaps. She thought about a rabbit but they were a bit like goats and she didn't like the idea of killing them if she didn't have to.

Having that pretty much settled, Artemis took her clothes off and crawled into her bed. She listened to hear the faint breathing of her grandmother. She usually slept well. Seemed this night was not an exception.

It was Sally's brain's first time in an airport. And for Billy. They were booked in first class, not that either of them would have had a problem with second class; they had grown up third class. But it was how things were done in the company. Flying first class didn't mean going through customs was void of the get felt up by the security clowns charade.

Sally's ID said she was 24, which she mostly was, and Billy's said he was 18. He was a young looking 18 but they were not bothered by any of the security. Sally was dressed like a professional. Whether or not that meant business woman or hired killer, it didn't matter. She appeared to be that woman that was treated most respectfully. In the hope that she would hand out a smile or some kind of recognition. She didn't care to notice any of it.

She noticed all the things one could buy inside customs. She noticed drinks and food got a little more expensive. She noticed that there were many people from many places. Some had the headgear one associated with the cult of the man she still could remember so vividly. She didn't regret it. It was a wonderful freedom to be given the job of killing people. Killing people in the airport didn't seem like something she would want to do. Unless, she smiled at the thought, it was just before boarding and the body was likely not to be found until she and Billy were in the sky over the Atlantic.

"What's funny."

"Nothing, really. Just thinking silly thoughts."

They were among the first to board so that they could watch all the second-class citizens boarding the plane. Sally watched the people while Billy looked out the window at the other airplanes and all the trucks driving around. Fueling of planes. Luggage removal or loading. It was quite a show.

After the recording of how to deal with seatbelts and crashing into the ocean the airplane taxied out to the take off strip.

They were leaving Washington and flying to Frankfurt Germany. A brand new experience. Sally and Billy had read much and watched videos about Germany. It was the first time they had heard of Hitler. But he was a minor character in a short-lived dreadful few years that nearly messed up everything. Germany was a very different country than that old story. It was the land, the government, which had started the Energiewende. They were famous now for putting billions of Euros and a lot of work into developing sustainable energy. They were the sun and wind gods. Billy thought that was very cool. What he thought most cool was that software was what made the energy distribution work. Software was needed everywhere.

Frankfurt was an interesting city. It was rich. Central Bank rich. Germany was the most innovative and wealthiest country in the European Union and Frankfurt was where the money did its thing. Billy had booked a week at the Villa Kennedy. They were on a serious job and needed a degree of comfort and security. It was close to the business center but on the other side of the river. Billy didn't have to explain his decision to Sally. She left him to it. He was the planner. That was his thing. She was the in the moment executioner.

Zack Müller was in Frankfurt for two nights and one day for a business meeting before he flew to the Canaan Islands for some other business, then back to Zurich, then to Lichtenstein. It wasn't their job to know why but Billy wanted to know as much as he could about their targets. Was there any since in it. Not that he cared but sometimes it seemed it was something one would want to know. Who was a problem for the company. Zack Müller was pretty dirty, as far as Billy could figure. There were definite connections to weapons and oil and mining.

"Did you know that Germany is the third biggest exporter of weapons."

"No. That's one of those things I hadn't stop to give a shit about."

"Well, just that if we knocked off all the weapons people here we need to book a few more weeks."

"We don't know if that is why he is getting negated. Could be anything."

Billy still wanted to know. He had even done some more research on the two hits in Miami. That wasn't purely religious. Which made sense to Billy. There had to be a war connection. Billy was pretty certain of that. Just like this Zack Müller guy.

"Got to get him today. Are we ready."

"We know as much as we can. He'll be in meetings today. That's here. You can be here. That's the best shot. You have time but it's a serious shot. I'll be here in the park."

Billy showed Sally the 3D layouts of both buildings and the view from the best spot. She would have to use a high-powered rifle and bullets that would penetrate strong glass. That hadn't been a problem. Germans made great weapons.

Sally had a black wig on, some slightly shaded glasses, a business suit and high heals. She looked both professional and unapproachable. No one met her eyes for they didn't wish to be presuming.

Billy had made a key card for room 2112 so there was no need for correspondence with anyone at the front desk. The man behind the desk notices her waiting at the elevator but hadn't noticed her coming in the front door. He didn't think about it, just noticed she had a nice figure. He might have wondered a few other things about her, like what room she was in, how far out of reach such a woman was, but he was occupied answering the questions of an old woman that hadn't noticed the hotel host's momentary lapse of attention.

Sally was alone on the elevator and was careful not to look for inconspicuous cameras. There might not be any. Germans weren't as big on cameras as the US Americans were.

She met no one in the hall on her way to 2112. The door unlocked with the keycard and she shut the door behind her, took off her shoes and put her briefcase on the bed and opened it. The name and make of the gun was of no interest to her. She had used the same one before in training. She easily put it together in 38 seconds and went to the balcony door and opened it.

She texted Billy. What up.

He texted back. Good.

She located the window with her scope being careful to stay inside the room out of view of any random drones or curious daytime peepers.

"Shoot the bastard."

It was important to take as much time as she needed but also important not to hang around all day waiting for random trouble. The trouble was, the bugger was sitting across the table from a slightly less notorious company problem. This was a known. Billy had done his research. It was an acceptable collateral damage thing. The other man may not have deserved a bullet in the head. Prison for sure. It was the only way to play it.

"Shoot them both and get the fuck out."

There was no way that Zack Müller could see Sally without a telephoto lens but Sally had the feeling that he looked out the window directly at her just before she shot. It didn't make her twitch or hesitate. It just meant she saw him looking at her for a second before his head burst open. The bullet grazed his visitor, ripping a nice cut above his ear. That didn't kill him.

His turn around to look out the window before he had time to think about hitting the floor. So Sally had time to shot him in the face as well. It was an ugly mess but having them both dead gave her more time. It could be hours before anyone checked to see how long their meeting was to last.

Billy saw the shots hit the window but no one else seemed to. They were all busy getting from some place to some other place. Always in a hurry. Billy got up from his bench and went to the nearest garbage can to toss away his can of mild soda water with a hint of orange flavour. Not bad, he thought. It was refundable so it wouldn't be in the garbage longer than a few minutes before someone took it out and added it to their collection to take to the nearest store that would give a refund and crush it.

Not that it mattered. His fingerprints were not registered anywhere but at the company he worked for. And they knew he was there and what he was doing.

A few hours later the police came to question the hotel host at the front desk of the hotel that they had calculated the shot came from. It was not the same host who had been there to see the figure of a woman with a case. When he had finally been contacted about seeing anyone unusual near the end of his shift all he could remember was the woman. He didn't think a beautiful woman was what the police were looking for. He didn't even remember a case. A briefcase in Frankfurt was as common as a baseball hat on a pickup truck driver's head in Texas.

Did he have a hat on.

Of course he had a hat on. It might have been black. Or brown. Maybe green. Hard to say. He was fat and had a beard. Not so fat.

By then the gun was well rapped and stuffed in a box in the mail on its way to a paper cup factory in Poland. And Sally was back in running shoes, hoody, track pants, thinking about the other target. He would have to die by knife attack. For some reason a stab to the heart was the requested method.

Billy couldn't figure out if their other Frankfurt hit related to the big money guy but there was no question that Abdul Abdul was in the contract. His address. His place of work. They were all givens. Billy had seen him at both places and was watching his smartdevice messages.

Abdul Abdul would have to wait till the next day to die. He was with his wife and two daughters for the evening. They had time. No one was looking for them. They were but they didn't know it. Most high-powered rifle assassins were former military. Not young businesswomen. So Sally had a nice run along the river with a bunch of other runners and dog walkers. Lovers. Can and plastic bottle collectors. Pigeons.

After she got back and had a shower, Billy declared that he wanted pizza. So they took the walk to Pizzeria 7 Bello and sat outside even though it was a little cool.

"Billy."

"What."

Sally was dripping wet naked fresh out of the shower.

"Nothing."

He had been staring at her like he didn't know who just walked out of the bathroom. He did that the odd time, still not quite used to the new Sally. Or, older Sally.

Sally had killed her other hit. Abdul Abdul rode his bike to work most days along the Main to the European Central Bank. A splendent building next to the river. She ran toward him, Billy giving her updates on his location and other bikers ahead or before him. She wanted to be sure it was Abdul and not some other fellow. He smiled at her as she slowed down and held her leg.

He was going to ask if she was all right when she pulled out a rather large knife and, jumping at him, stabbed him in the heart all the way into his spine. She had smacked her head into his knocking them both over. She sat him on a bench and took his bike for a ride down the Main, tossing the knife into the river when she rode under a bridge. She parked the bike in the old part of the city with countless other bikes.

Sally was not only dripping water. She was dripping blood. Not too much but enough that she needed some attention.

"You're bleeding."

"Nothing serious. But I do need your help."

Sally met the woman who seemed to be their boss, or agent, at an Italian café in the old part of Frankfurt.

"Hi Sally."

"Hi Daisy."

"You and Billy work well."

"Thanks. Billy does most of the work."

They chatted and watched the people walking by. Daisy smoked a cigarette. Offered Sally one but she declined.

"Any questions."

"Not work related."

"Okay."

"How did you get started in the company."

Daisy smiled.

Daisy Faith was not such a common name. Her Grandmother's name was Daisy May. Her mother's name was Virginia Faith. She didn't have an official dad. As far as she knew, her mother, Virginia Faith, was raped by her priest when she was 14. She sang in the choir and earned a little money cleaning the church. The priest lived in a comfortable little house on the grounds.

Virginia Faith cooked him meals every Tuesday after choir practice. He gave her a dollar each time. She would refuse. He would insist. Virginia Faith would put the dollar in the next Sunday offering. That had pleased her.

She hadn't noticed any indication that he was sexually interested in her. It was in the kitchen that he raped her. He had invited her to stay for tea, put a sedative, date rape drug, in Virginia's tea and raped her. She knew her vagina was sore when she woke up in her own bed not remembering how she got home and didn't remember, or couldn't even imagine, that she had been raped by the priest but she had no other contacts that night. She marked it down to a serious period. She didn't get one after that. She wasn't so naïve as to think it was Immaculate Conception. She didn't even think that was the story with the holy mother.

People asked her who the father was. She didn't know she always proclaimed. They didn't believe her. Some of the more believing members of the church actually speculated Immaculate Conception. The doctors didn't. Eventually, Virginia worked out the possibility that it might have been the priest. No one else had, to her memory, been near her vagina ever. When Daisy asked her about leaving the church and who was her daddy, she told her. Daisy was not pleased.

When Daisy was thirteen she killed him. Went to his house late at night, crawled in the window and stood over him until he woke from the cool air on his face.

"Hi, Dad."

He looked terrified when he saw a big knife swinging down into his belly. Daisy had cut his belly from rib cage to his groin. She took off out the window not understanding about forensics. Her fingerprints were on the windowsill and the knife that was buried in the priest.

Sally listened to Daisy tell her story wondering if it was true.

"That's a crazy story."

"Yes. It was a crazy time. Instead of prison for kids, the company took me out of the system. My mother didn't want me and set me free for adoption. The company adopted me. I went to a place not much at all like the place you and Billy went to."

"To become what I am."

"That's right."

"Now you are administrative."

Daisy laughed. She really liked Sally. She reminded her of back then.

"Project director."

"I see."

"Billy and I are your project."

"No, yes, you are involved in the same project. I am directing you and the rest of the project. For now, I'm the director. For now, your contact."

"Okay. Are their more people doing what I do."

"Not in this project."

"Billy loves Erapa. He keeps sticking most of our money into battery development companies. Not so much because he thinks it's, what's it called."

Sally showed an exponential curve.

"Yes. Exponential."

"He wants to build smaller drones that can fly for hours. He needs better batteries."

"He won't need to wait long."

"I'll tell him."

"Good, Sally, you two have a little fun for two weeks and be in Brussels for your next assignment. Are you okay with that."

"Yes. My calendar is open."

Daisy smiled and got up.

"You pay today."

"My pleasure."
Sally thought she might get reprimanded because of the money they had gone through. The restaurants hadn't been too high end but the hotels had been very pleasant. Daisy didn't even hint at money. It wasn't a subject. Just a meeting to check on Sally's disposition, or whatever it was that interested Daisy. Sally asked to pay the bill in not too bad German. The Italian owner smiled and answered in English. Everyone in Frankfurt could speak English. It was the language of business.

**chapter 04 _** **sally and billy in brussels**

"Sally."

"What's up, Billy."

Sally looked out the window of The Hotel Brussels in downtown Brussels and tried to focus on Billy's question.

"What is politically correct."

Sally turned to look at Billy. As usual, he was looking at his smartdevice. Getting information on anything and everything pertaining to the next job.

"Politically correct is an oxymoron."

"Elaborate."

"You want a dissertation."

"Yes, Sally. I would like to hear your point of view. Enlighten me."

"Politics tends to be incorrect. For ages politics has been a cover for the royal, or the super rich families and most of it is a bogus propaganda. That lie is royalty. There is no real such thing as royal. Religion is just a controlling institution married to the war machine. There is no God that has ordained any royalty to hold that title. It is an archaic conspiracy used to subdue the peasants."

"I agree, I'm sure. Are you questioning who we work for."

"I don't know. What's the company."

"What's the company. You think they are royalty somehow and we're their foot soldiers."

"I don't know. Do you."

"No. Maybe. Maybe just the rules are different. The company that is forming our company has great wealth and through wealth a lot of control. I don't think it's really a political system. At least not a specific controlling political agenda. It's not a top down company, I'm sure of that. No king at the top. What I've figured out looks more like a well-networked business thing. One I want to be part off."

"Not a bunch of old fucks on mount whatever."

"Olympus."

"That's the place. Those guys. So above it all that they live on top of Mount Olympus and dictate to the mortals."

Billy let the picture work around in his head until he had to laugh.

"I'm sure they would say something more along the line of benevolent guardians."

Sally had to laugh.

"We kill for profit."

"I don't know if knowing who we are working for changes our position on our kind of involvement in this organization. I guess it would depend on what set of morals or beliefs we had. Do we have beliefs or morals."

"I guess not. At least not fully developed."

Billy laughed.

"Do you think we should get some, Sally."

"I'll have to do a little more research before I can answer that. Or maybe since you're that guy, you could look into it on your magic box."

"Sally, it's not magic. Electrons, circuits and software. A whole lot of knowledge went into our information web. All very real."

"I know, Billy. I just don't like going in there like you do."

"You don't think we should disappear."

"Hell no. Why would we do that."

"I don't want to. I want to do what I can for Erapa. We are part owners. It really is cool. I know there is the killing issue but the project is good. Software is the biggest thing there is. It's latching on to everything."

"I'm happy for your software. I like my job too. But we are soldiers in a war, Billy."

"As far as I can tell, our war is mostly about resources, like they all are. Our war is just more civilized. Innocent people don't need to die."

"A kinder, gentler machine gun hand."

"One bullet at a time."

"I would give up my job to live in a world where there was no one killing anyone."

"I hope you get to prove it."

"Enough business talk for today. Let's go get a piece of pie."

"Okay. Like when we were kids."

"In a little red sport's car."

"We'll walk."

Sally sat in the back of the van owned by Joe's Kitchen Equipment. The back door was opened just enough for her to see through the crack. The back of the van was on the sixth floor of a public parking garage facing Selor government office. She had her finger on the trigger of a military assault riffle. In the riffle were high power bullets. The distance was pushing the limits for accuracy but security in Brussels was higher than normal because of resent attacks. They had killed three lobbyists and this last one was the last for the assignment.

It was hard to see the target because of the reflective glass so Sally relied on Billy's mapping of the building and Thomas Burn's cell phone.

"There will be collateral damage."

"Acceptable."

Billy knew the details and Sally trusted his judgment.

"I'm ready."

"Take the shot."

Sally made a quick check of Billy's electronic layover of her electronic viewer. Thomas put his phone to what Sally assumed must be his head. From her distance, a body shot had a better chance of success. She gently squeezed the trigger until the hammer was released from its potential energy position. The pen smacked the bullet casing, causing a shock wave of energy to burst into the gun powder that was tightly locked behind the copper and steel torpedo causing the projectile to spin out of the riffle barrel so fast that it arrived at it's destination before Sally thought to take a second shot. The first shot ripped through the window followed by another two large caliber bullets.

"Think that will do it."

"The story is the virus. It is irrelevant if it is fiction or it is proposed to be true."

Artemis could remember her grandfather telling her that when they had story writing time. Those who wrote stories usually had ideas they wanted to propagate. That was a good thing. Sometimes.

Artemis missed her grandfather. He loved to teach her and took time to listen to her when she read or had questions. Her grandmother wasn't so bright. She might have been when she was younger. There was no learning from her though. Unless you wanted to learn about Jesus. Artemis read to her from the Bible on most days, Sunday was a certainty, that was the custom, but Artemis would rather throw knives in the wall. When her grandmother was drifting off on the sofa or on the porch swing, that is what Artemis did.

She loved to throw knives. Artemis had the barn for that. She had a workshop and made many things. Her favourite things were weapons. Hunting and fishing were things her grandfather taught her. He liked to be creative in his hunting and fishing methods. It kept the brain fit. He believed one could make and do everything to have a good life. They had made fishing spears together. Bows and arrows both for shooting fish and for shooting animals and birds.

"And of course we only shoot what we planned to eat."

The idea of trophy hunting was blasphemy for someone who lived off grid. That was what her grandfather told her. No dead heads on the wall. Artemis was okay with that.

Throwing knives wasn't an efficient way to hunt but Artemis loved the motion of it. She got the idea from a book she read where the assassin always carried throwing knives everywhere he went. He wasn't her hero but she practiced on the targets she had built in the barn.

It wasn't so easy to make a throwing knife. They had to be well balanced. And it required a metal smith's oven to make metal malleable. Grandfather had built an oven. That wasn't so hard. He had used it to make tools. Horseshoes as well, many years ago, when they had horses. Now it was just Nelly and Beatrice. They didn't need or want shoes of any kind.

After practicing throwing from different positions and angles and arms, she practiced her bow shooting. This was more practical. It was the best way she knew to hunt wild turkey or pheasant. Wild hogs were on her wish list but she needed to finish her next bow. It took a lot more to kill a pig than a rabbit. And a pig was a lot of work. She would have to kill it in winter so she could freeze some of the meat. She could smoke some of it. Make sausage.

But that wasn't the day's plan. Having her morning chores finished and her weapon practice minimum behind her, she went for a run through the woods looking like a young amazon warrior. She wasn't, she knew. Just a hunter who liked to run over the dirt trails through the woods with her eyes ever searching for a small animal to surprise.

This day's kill was to be with a wooden spear. No reason other than she preferred bow and arrow when she was moving slowly with the kill her main objective. Sometimes she didn't care if they had meat, fish or bird. She wanted to run and sweat and not think of her fading grandmother or her vanished grandfather. She didn't want to think of herself either. Just be mindful of where to land her feet as they moved over the earth.

She always moved like a hunter. A wild hunter that made no sounds. Always quiet. A stealth hunter will usually find something to kill. Sometimes she surprised a deer or a bear. Both too big for her needs. Sometimes big wild cats. She knew all the different names. But this day's surprise was a wild turkey.

It was running ahead of her on the path. Artemis slammed her feet to a stop and released her spear, then started running again. The spear hit the turkey but glanced off its back. It threw it for a wobble giving Artemis time to close the gap and throw a knife. It hit but didn't stick, so she threw another and another right behind it. They both stuck and slowed the turkey down enough for Artemis to catch it and slice it's neck through.

That was the easy part.

Cleaning and preparing and roasting. But it was enough meat for a few days. She would take a piece to the neighbour. She would leave some out in the woods for raccoons or badgers or wolves. That was best done far away from the house where they weren't so welcome because of the chickens and goats.

So after collecting her spear and replacing her throwing knives on her leathers, she took out her other knife she liked for cutting apart animals and birds. Fish too but she had another knife she took with her when she went fishing. She gutted the bird on a rock, hacked off the head and the wings, rammed the spear through the bird and ran back to the house. There were no mirrors to look into out in the woods so she didn't know how scary she might appear to anyone who happened along the trail. That didn't happen often. There were a few hikers that walked by where she liked to fish but they always made so much noise that she had time to slip under the water and let them carry on their journey without seeing her. She liked underwater fishing with bow and arrow so had become very good at staying under water.

Grandmother was sleeping on the sofa with half a smile when Artemis finally came in to cook up an evening meal.

Sally put down the play she was reading. Major Barbara. She had found it in a used bookstore. She looked at Billy wondering if she should tell him about Barbara's transformation.

"Listen to this. Hollow Bitten company gave the present government 673 million dollars to have a law passed that made individual privacy obsolete. Anyone can be arrested for no reason at all under suspicion of thinking about not liking the government arresting them for no reason at all."

Sally looked at the photo of one of the owners.

"He's here."

"For two days. He has been governor of Utah for 12 years. His company made billions selling prepackaged food boxes to soldiers in Iraq. They were in charge of washing the soldiers clothes, the tax payers were footing the bill, 70 bucks a load, let me check that again."

Sally watched Billy fuss with the various sources.

"I don't know, Billy. He looks like a scum sucking bottom feeder. I'd slice his neck for free."

"You can't just walk up to the guy and slice his neck."

"What were you thinking."

"Maybe an accident."

"Maybe a bullet in the face."

"I'll work on it. If we want him here we likely have to go with the bullet."

Hank Summer was born into a Catholic family in Washington D.C., the world's war center administration. He didn't know that as a kid. All he knew for the first years he was conscious was that his parents were killed in a car crash. That it was an assassination was never revealed to the private press, often called the free press, even though everyone knew the press was corporate owned and the corporations preferred ill informed not free consumers over well informed capable thinking self-sufficient cyborgs. In fact, they would murder any president anywhere that attempted to abolish the ancient tradition of mute servitude to those that commanded the swords.

Billy was over interpreting a little.

He, Hank, was put in a private school that was for boys only. It was outside of Washington in the hills of West Virginia. Around the grounds was a 6-foot barbed wire fence patrolled by armed private security, which included ready to tear your throat out German Shepherds.

Billy elaborated on life inside such and institution. Sexually curious boys locked up with sexually curious boys. Leaning that sex is not fun. Every sperm is sacred. Getting caught. Confessing. Doing it again.

"Billy."

"What."

"Listen."

Billy listened for a minute.

"Sip Your Cup."

"What cup."

"The name of this tune."

Sally was distracting him. He watched her. She smiled and waited for him to remember who she was.

"Jesus, Sally."

"What."

Billy listened to the song Sally was listening to. It was a chill kind of song. She was boldly relaxing. Billy watched and adored Sally for a few minutes. He was surprised to see what she looked like any time he had stopped looking at her for more than a few minutes. He thought he hid his surprise.

"Go on."

Hank was in the business of war. He worked for Lockhead Marvin and was a major shareholder. He was about to sign a deal with Mohan Amid from Pakistan to supply their military with 60 F63 Falcon Fighter jets, 70,000 X380 low-grade plutonium smart missiles. A smart missile could be programmed to hit any target within 13.64 inches. Which was silly because the blast radius was just under a third of a mile. And a few other smaller items in larger numbers.

This was the official cover story that was in no way public. Billy suspected something else was going on. He was trying to get a profile on their hits. Maybe also learn something about who might want or need them dead. Sex trafficking came into question when investigating Hank. Rich people weren't typically sex traffickers. They could afford to be end users. The dirty work was done by dirtier folk.

Sally checked her equipment, packed and off they went.

Sally was stationed on the roof of Georgetown University Library in a shadow. Washington, one knew, had pretty serious security. However, not every courner could be watched every minute of the day. Across the river on the twelfth floor there was a meeting. Billy had the cell phones tracked but Sally had also made visual recognition.

Hank looked up and smiled at the man from Pakistan. Looking up he saw a bird. He knew a bit about birds. He didn't know what bird he watched fly off across the river. The bird snapped out of view and became a hole in his window and the exploding head of Mohan Amid. The second bullet was for him.

Sally was back in their apartment having a hot bath before anyone asked why Hank hadn't showed up for his lunch date with the head of FRB Homeland Security.

Professor Johnson sat at his desk in the front of the small lecture hall and watched the students come in one after the other. He tried to pick out who would sit near the front and who would try to hide at the back. He didn't keep score for his game. No one but his semi-conscious was even aware of the game.

He smiled at any student that looked at him.

When they were all seated with their laptops in front of them ready to go, some sending messages or e-mails. Some a last message on their smartdevice. He looked up at the clock and watched the second hand move toward the twelve. He wondered how old the clock was for a few seconds then looked back at the first year students.

"Close your laptops. Turn off your smartdevices."

A few looked up from their laptops.

"Close your laptops and put them away. This is a creative writing course not a creative typing course. You can type your assignments after you write them. Actual handwriting is part of the learning process here. We are practicing the use of sensory deprivation. Just paper and pen. There is a reason for it. It limits distractions. Most importantly, it leaves you naked in front of an untold story. Words are your only purpose. You force your imagination.

"Ten years ago you didn't need imagination. Schools killed that so you become obedient workers. That paradigm is dead. Software and robots are replacing unimaginative routine operations. Your imagination matters in the Brave New World."

To drive his point home he picked up some paper from his desk. They were printed on one side but the other side was blank. He walked to the front row of the lecture theater and stood in front of a young woman. The young woman understood the paper law and closed her laptop, put it in her bag and found a pen.

Professor Johnson gave her a few sheets of paper. Then he stood in front of the next desk and waited. The young man wanted to resist. He looked at the young woman beside him. She shrugged as if to say, it will likely be all right.

The third student was critical mass. After that, the rest of the students managed to accept this odd demand from the Professor. Had he missed the digital age.

"How many people need to borrow a pen."

After everyone had a pen, he stood in front of his desk.

"Writing papers is something you will all have to do at university. If you don't want to piss off your professors, you need to know how to convey your thoughts and discoveries so that they are readable. Understandable. This may sound simple enough but it is a big problem. If you can't explain what you know, nobody will know what you want them to know. Learning to write isn't an option. Unless you came to play basketball, you won't get far without a command of your language. You people are the ones going out there in this crazy world. Make yourself clear. You can graduate without being a good writer. You can't get much done without some writing skills."

He looked at the young woman in the third row. He wasn't certain but he didn't remember seeing her put away a computer. She had a pad of paper. Actually a book of paper with no words or lines. That got his fantasy going. Someone prepared to write on paper. He'd never seen it before. And she was beautiful. She didn't really fit the student stereotype. He hadn't noticed her come into the class. She didn't really hide her appearance. She just made no show of it. At first glance she looked like anyone else that might go unnoticed. But when she looked at you. Wow, he thought. The professor wasn't surprised at his unprofessional fantasies. He was usually practically impervious after a few classes. It was just when a new shipment came, he couldn't help but inspect the cargo.

"Everything is a test. This test is to show me where you are with your writing. For this course there is no need to worry about correct answers. You are free to be wrong with a vengeance if you feel so inclined. Make a logical argument. Make clear to the point explanations. Common sense. Write so that someone who doesn't know what you are talking about will understand. That's me. Assume not that I know. There is a lot of stuff I don't know. Make it clear. Write your name on the page and if you need a second page, also write your name."

He wrote on a black board, with chalk, a question every 3 or 5 minutes. As soon as he thought of one.

1. How or why did mankind go from polytheism to monotheism.

Professor Johnson looked at his students looking at him. Obviously a little confused. What did that have to do with university studies. Do we start writing now. Why am I here.

"Okay. Aside from Hindu. And you can argue Christianity is really a triumvirate. Take whatever angle you want. And if you don't care for the question, skip it. Just start writing. Here is another question."

2. How do the few manage to make slavery preferable to freedom. How much freedom is possible.

3. Can women's rights, especially the right and opportunity to education, change the birth rate in developing countries. How important is electricity for woman's rights.

4. Is an orange orange because it is orange or is orange orange because it is the colour of an orange.

5. Should we impeach the president or just shoot him.

"Hypothetical. Any president."

There were a few giggles. The current president was typical of his party. Buffoon.

6. A quick summary of evolution starting at the big bang or any time after that.

7. Why you feel none of these questions are appropriate.

"Don't fret about spelling in class. Get words down."

Professor Johnson wandered up the steps and around the students answering a few questions.

"Yes, good question. Censorship is censored in this class. Free speech is not just your right when it's your right. It is your responsibility to protect it. Fuck any political correctness. Say what you want to say.

"Having said that. Hate really doesn't help anyone. No one likes reading it other than hateful people. Those people are usually ignorant people. Educated people need be better than that. You have to be the leaders."

He let them write for another twenty minutes.

"Is there such thing as magic. Yes and no. At the same time. The laws of physics are fairly set. Without a rabbit, you can't pull a rabbit out of a hat. That is just a trick. Magic is sometimes attributed to mastery. A great musician will seem to have magic. Move your emotions with sounds.

"There is real magic in words. You can't make something that isn't into what is. But you can lead billions to believe it. Billions believe in God. That is magic. Or a curse, depending on your convictions. Billions still believe the global environmental tragedy is a hoax, or the earth is flat, or Harry Potter is running for president next term.

"Words are magic. With them you can put ideas into your own head and if you communicate words well, you can put ideas into other people's heads. You can't change reality but you can change someone's perception of it. And that in turn may cause that person to act or not act and that will have at least a small effect on the reality here. If we convince ourselves we are the gods, it won't even matter if we aren't for we will be. And that will change the reality of the galaxy over the next few hundred thousand years.

"We are at the end of the fire age and the beginning of the space age. Many of you will have the opportunity to leave the earth's atmosphere, if only for a visit to a space hotel or a trip around the moon. The space age is taking over. The law of survival makes it so. The old, you don't want all your eggs in one basket logic. Some will say terra forming other planets. Sure. But that means Mars. Mars needs work. Getting to other solar systems with planets is not a viable undertaking quite yet. Getting out into space is already a big thing. It will only get bigger.

"Maybe we will be building grand space cities that are self-sufficient and are a world in themselves. We might head for other stars. Maybe we will build big ring worlds. People might not die a few hundred years from now. Then it will be the new gods on the block bursting out onto the galactic stage. There won't be any cousins out there.

"We might have nanotechnology running through our blood any day soon. We aren't so far away from being able to make a back up copy. Record the brain. Freeze our bodies to be woken up in the future. Paste your brain onto a carbon based artificial brain.

"Some of you might be taking this course just to get a credit. You've heard it's fun and easy. That's true if you are already a decent writer. You will have to write. That is the only way to get a credit. No matter what you came to this University to study, you will be required to write. Learn to at least put down ideas on paper before staring at your computers. Write something down. No restraints. No censorship."

The hour was up and the students were packing up.

"You assignment."

He looked around to see that the students were waiting to get going. Except the one woman who actually looked like a woman. The one without a computer. She looked like she was in no hurry.

"Write a short essay or story. On a piece of paper with pen or pencil. Legibly, if possible. Have a good week."

"On any topic."

"On any topic."

He was a little surprised that night when he was reading the answers of the woman named Sally. He was certain he knew she was the one to look at him with that something different that most first year students didn't have.

His buzzer rang.

He put down his papers and opened his door after electronically opening the front door. He wasn't expecting anyone but was usually even open to Mormons and Jehovah Witnesses to break up the monotony of a Monday evening.

"Oh, you must be Sally K."

"Yes. I must be. I was going to ask you today if it was okay to sit in on your class but it slipped my mind."

"Do you want to come in."

Sally smiled. Entered past Professor Johnson and had a little look around to determine that he was single. She was pretty sure he was.

"I want to learn how to write."

"It is a good thing to be able to do. At least, from my point of view."

Sally smiled and followed Professor Johnson's direction to a kitchen table.

"Can I make you a coffee."

"I'd like that."

"To answer your question. You are welcome to sit in on my class. I already like your writing. Have you written much."

"No. Not at all, really. Haven't had the time. But I have been doing some thinking and imagining."

Professor Johnston was pleased that she was not a student. He wasn't certain if he felt sexual attraction from her or if it was just wishful thinking.

"You aren't a student at the university."

"No. I didn't get past high school."

She hadn't finished high school. Abruptly taken from school and shortly thereafter placed in an intensive two-year training course. Sally wasn't going to explain that even though it had been a tad like one of those technical colleges where you go to learn a trade so you could get a good job.

"How old are you, Sally, if I may ask."

"Twenty-four."

"I ask because you seem like you haven't come straight from high school."

"No. I have a job."

"What do you do."

"I work for a startup software company. Good pay but it's quite boring for me still."

"Do you take milk."

"No. Black. Unless you have honey. Then black with a bit of honey."

"How did you find where I live."

"Internet."

"Oh."

"Was that okay. I mean. Me coming here without warning."

"Yes. I'm glad you came."

Professor Johnston was a little confused and overwhelmed. The woman was suddenly there. Sitting there like she had done so a hundred times. She smiled.

"Show me your apartment so I can see how a professor lives."

"Modestly. I'm a modest professor."

He was also a lazy professor. Sally took notice of all the details. Saw that there was a fire escape to his bedroom window. She looked out to get a feel for the back alleyway. There was no need to be secretive. It just appealed to her to have an affair or whatever it might be without being obvious about it. She opened the bedroom window to have a better look.

"Are you looking for a way out."

"Yes. For later. I had planned to stay for a while. If that's okay."

The professor was pretty certain the question was redundant.

"We can drink them out there. You can have a look at my back alley."

Sally smiled and stepped out the window and took the coffees from the professor.

Usually Professor Johnson had music on in the morning for more than an hour before he left for work. He liked to take his time. Stretch a little. Have a little fitness and a shower. Rachael, his neighbour, knew his rituals. She also suspected there had been a break in John's mornings.

So she knocked on his door until John finally answered.

"Good morning, Rachael."

"Ah. The professor got well fucked last night. She better be older than eighteen."

"What."

"I'll make you a coffee. You get dressed. You do have classes today, no."

"Oh, shit. Is that really the time."

Rachael opened up a window and made coffee. Professor Johnson had a quick shower, skipping the shaving part of it. Wasn't worth the danger involved. He tried to remember what happened. He had vivid pictures of much of it. If he had been drinking or smoking drugs he could put it up to his imagination. But his body told him otherwise.

He got dressed and noticed the bedroom window wasn't locked. He locked it. He couldn't remember her leaving. He was obviously deep in a happy sleep.

"I'm a little jealous. Who is she. How old. How long will this one be around."

Rachael was a little jealous but not so she would get upset. She had a boyfriend and officially she and the professor were just friends and neighbours. Their sexual encounters were sporadic. Most days nothing other than coffee would happen. Some days she needed it and knew he was up for it. No morals to discourage him. None of his relationships were ever very serious.

John saw that Rachael was waiting for an answer. He took another sip of coffee, scratched his head and put on his attentive face.

"Sorry, what."

"Name."

"Sally."

"Age."

"Think she said 24."

"Student."

"Not officially. A sit in."

"Okay. You go teach some classes and I'll squeeze a little more dirt out of you when you get home. I'll make you dinner. Rich is out of town. Or is Sally coming. She's welcome too. I'd love to meet her."

John laughed, kissed Rachael, and told her to lock up when she left.

"I love you too."

She laughed and washed the mugs before inspecting the bedroom for disarray and smells. Then she locked up and went back to her apartment.

**chapter 05 _** **sally writes a story**

"How are you this fine morning."

"What happened to you."

"What makes you think anything happened."

"How are you this fine morning. Let's see. I've known you since I can't remember. We crawled around the dirty halls together looking for half eaten cookies. We stole cigarettes and cars together. We shot holes in things. Hell, we went to assassination school together. Not once did you say. How are you this fine morning."

"You sure."

"You don't wanna tell me, I'm okay with that. I mean, I like it, seeing you smile, and being cheery so early in the day."

Sally smiled at Billy.

"Okay Billy. Between you and me, as in I don't want Daisy to know. Only because it's none of her business. I mean I can't see why she would care. Maybe she would even think it was a good thing."

"Okay."

"Professor Johnson."

"Is what."

"He is teaching me, if I can get to his class, how to write better."

"Write better. Since when do you write."

"I'm starting now."

"Okay."

Billy went back to the work laptop and continued his research.

"And, as you might have noticed. I stayed with him last night."

"Oh, well lucky him."

Sally looked at him until he looked up.

"I mean it, Sally. As long as he doesn't mind your career choice. If I was him, I would consider myself one lucky man. Maybe when I'm a man."

"Thanks, Billy. That was pretty sweet. And you are going to be a man soon enough. Don't rush it."

Sally gave him a hug from behind.

"I still love you the most, Billy. We are a team from the cradle to the grave."

"I miss the old you sometime, Sally. My ugly best friend."

"I was not ugly."

Sally punched him in the arm before flopping on the sofa.

"So, who's next."

Pastor Glenn was next. Teaching children religion, as in teaching them not to learn but to believe it, needed to be made illegal. It wasn't. And it wasn't the reason Sally and Billy had him on the hit parade.

He was a lobbyist for teaching Creationism in public school. For Sally and Billy reason enough to whack him. But it would not be enough to get him on the hit list. It was the company's concern as to why. However. Billy liked to learn all he could about who they were taking out even if it wasn't part of his job description.

"Not one bit of evidence to support a collection of fairytales written by who knows who a coupled thousand years ago. And you want us to bow and pretend it is authoritative. No. You are propagating obnoxious lies as truth to keep people ignorant so you can have them as idiot followers and happy consumers of a mad illusion and electronic personal surveillance equipment and soldiers fighting wars to collect resources and destroy your chosen enemies. You are not ordained. You goatskin wearing bunch of cheaters. You have been revealed as wanting."

Billy laughed but not loud enough for Sally to hear. He touched her on the shoulder to let her know he was moving. He went to have eyes down on the ground. He assumed the walking down the street routine.

Finally Pastor Glenn came out the front door with his little dog like he always did about this time of the evening. Time for a piss in the park. The park was well lit and void of blacks, Mexicans and Porto Ricans. A good neighbourhood. They were all in prisons making the prison industry a booming business. They were playing their part in the war on being free. Freedom was not good for business. Business was war. And war was military rule. And that required putting many people in prison for any or no reason at all.

Okay Sally, Sally told herself. Stop thinking now.

Sally had her black wig on and a jogging suit. She did not look scary. How could a nice healthy, beautiful white girl be scary. Not even the dog was scared. The dog thought its owner, Pastor Glenn, was tired and taking a short nap on the grass. The dog cuddled up beside his nice master.

His master lay paralyzed with a small fiberglass pick embedded in his neck up into his brain stem. He wasn't dead. In fact he was wide-awake. Just completely helpless. He didn't know how or what. He had noticed a jogger but that hadn't really become part of his thoughts. His thinking had been frozen into a form of what but not quite focused enough to decide even what he might want to question. He could see the moon. It was there above him. He couldn't remember seeing it there before. Or if it was even supposed to be there.

Pastor Glenn was found by another dog owner. They knew each other from taking their dogs out to piss and shit and sometimes play with other dogs that were out doing the same. He saw the blood. He called 911. A lucky thing, depending how you saw things, for Pastor Glenn. An ambulance was there right swift, and he had good health insurance so did not wait to get treated for his little knife wound. Unfortunately, the knife was in a tricky spot. It had severed the nerves to the spine and damaged the brain.

Pastor Glenn was lying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines. Without the machines he would not live. So there was that philosophical question. Or theological, in his case. Was he alive. Was he allowed to die. Did he want to die. Could he be fixed.

It was no concern for Sally or Billy. He was out of the picture. Their work was done. Billy would add him as a logarithm in his ocean of codes.

Douglas Burger, an associate of Pastor Glenn, pushed himself up with the kitchen table where he had been reading the Sunday Times. He could never read the whole thing on Sunday. He often didn't get around to reading it till Tuesday. Then he would read it straight through for the next few days taking in every article. It was important to have a feel for the big events taking place. Stay on top of it.

Douglas Burger was big in Washington. As far as Billy had learned from his various sources, the man was a royal prick.

Sally was to deal him the same fate and jabbed a ceramic knife in the back of his head while he too was out one evening walking his dog. He didn't pick up its poop. It wasn't why he got stuck in the neck, but the timing might have made him think so. If he could think at all. Though he wasn't technically dead, he was paralyzed from the head down. It gave the police something to go on. A serial paralyzer. How were the two attacks related. Both dog walkers that didn't pick up the excrement of their dogs out of public parks. Not much to go on. The knives weren't traceable. No one saw anything. There were too many footprints.

Sally wasn't sure if they were being nice letting the victims live as vegetables or if they were torturing them. Either way it didn't matter. Do your job and let it go. That had been their job description for the two hits. Billy made her take some time away from thinking about killing bad guys and enjoy a few days of wandering through the Smithsonian and other spectacular land marks. They even went to a movie one night. They ate out most nights but Billy was getting excited about learning how to make food at home. They had a great kitchen; it made sense to use it.

Sally was pumped up for their next hit. Daisy had told her to let it go if they couldn't do it. But. They had a big budget and a big bonus if they could do it. Big and bloody was preferred. Neither Sally or Billy weighed the big bonus into their decision. For Billy it was a challenge for his technological and organizational skills. It was risky. The president, a tyrannical corrupt dictator, of an oil rich African county was in New York to give a speech before the, Billy wondered if corporate owned, United Nations assembly.

He, personally, had become very rich from selling out to a based in Huston multinational oil company. His people, practically slaves, had become poisoned by the reckless pollution from irresponsible drilling methods. Anyone who ever thought to speak out against the environmental disaster was murdered. Any journalist that attempted to report anything negative was murdered. Any teenager was open game for gang rape. The country was sinking in squalor while the rich got rich on plunder.

There were more armed like robot military security in New York City for his visit than citizens. Almost. Any student that wrote a critical comment in an e-mail or on a community website was arrested and put in cages that had been erected for the state of emergency that was unofficially in effect. The city was under marshal law to protect a holy criminal.

So it wasn't going to be easy.

Billy had figured out a plan. He was good at that. Cooking was like that. You had an idea what you would like to eat, you researched how to do it, what materials were needed and then it was just a matter of doing it. This particular delight required a small high-speed submarine, a high-powered riffle that was pretty much an anti aircraft gun, American made. And perfect timing.

It would also be a bit messy. Anyone in the car with the visiting tyrant would die. Anyone near the car might die and if not would have to be fished out of the river and flown to hospital.

The Hudson River was well patrolled on the surface but visibility under the surface was about the length of a kid goat. That was to their advantage. Billy had a program that mapped with random wavelength sonar every detail in the river. He also had infrared that was very useful for seeing short distances. He couldn't always tell if a can on the riverbed was Coke or a copy brand but that was not necessary for their mission.

Billy was happy to be in control of a challenging mission. Especially one that was like a video game.

He had hacked into the various surveillance that tracked the convoy from the airport. There were six limousines; the president was in the third. Billy had a lock on his smartdevice. His driver, his head of security and two personal bodyguards were with him. That was unfortunate but also acceptable collateral damage. One of his wives was in the forth car. She would likely be okay after dealing with the shock. His other wives had stayed home. To show a little regard for the American monogamy custom.

The convoy left from John F. Kennedy International Airport and followed the Belt Parkway because it was easier then taking the convoy through Queens and Brooklyn. Safer. They would take the 278 and cross on the Brooklyn Bridge. The plan was to take the FDR Drive up to the United Nations Headquarters. Get the bugger to make his speech and get him back the same way.

He could be hit anywhere on the way but getting out of the city would be a bit of a problem after that. The East River would be the best bet. The Brooklyn Bridge was the best place to strike. It was unlikely enough that anyone would try anything there. Submarines were not so easy to come by. The advantage of the bridge, from an assassin with scruples point of view was that there was no other traffic. No pedestrians. Just heavily armed military. They were trained for war. That's what they signed up for.

"Thirty seconds."

Billy released the decoys with a sonar signal on the far side of the bridge. CO2 pressure inflating dinghies. It would attract attention, maybe even some panic. Sally only needed 12 seconds above water to climb out of the hatch, aim her weapon and blow the third limo off the bridge.

"Three, two, one."

Sally took her time. Made certain the gun was well steady and she was focused on the third car. It was far enough away that she, mostly Billy, had calculated the distance the missiles would have to travel, how fast the car traveled. She aimed at the front of the car in front of the car and fired 16 small missiles.

The first one skinned the top of the president's car. The next took root in the hood, the next as well, the next took off the front window, the next, the side window and two bodies, the next, well, it turned out the limo was well ripped apart; it flipped over and didn't burst into flames until a missile hit the gas tank.

What happened after that they would have to see on Billy's smartdevice because the hatch was closing and the sub was submerging. Shots were coming their way but bullets didn't go far in water.

"Wow. They located us fast enough."

"Let's hope they don't have any subs out and about."

They headed out down the East River over the continental shelf to the Atlantic and north to to Canada.

They spent a week in Halifax at the Halifax Marriott Harbourfront Hotel after leaving the sub at a small port. Lower West Pubnico. Not too far from Yarmoth, where Sally and Billy stopped for coffee. They were driving an older model Chevy pickup truck that was to be left in Halifax with the keys hidden inside the back left hubcap. They took a few days getting to Halifax. They had a fish dinner in Digby. They spent the night in a bed and breakfast in Annapolis Royal. The next day they relaxed in Kejimkugik National Park and National Historic Site before enjoying a pleasant evening at Whitman Inn.

They ate fish every day.

They took some more time off from working when they got home to Washington. Sally wrote a story when she got back. Billy made some great food. He spent a whole week just perfecting apple and blueberry pies. He had to put a few in the freezer. But the freezer wasn't very big. So he sent some with Sally to her class.

Sally took three apple pies to the professor's class. The other students were pleasantly surprised. What the hell is going on. Real homemade apple pie. Why. Oh my. This is great. So American.

"My roommate can't stop baking."

"Wow. Is she married."

"He. He wants to teach himself how to back and cook."

"Is he married."

"No."

Sally handed in her story at the end of the class. And told Professor Johnson she would see him soon.

Bunny Stop

Bunny was in a big hurry. He was being chased by a wolf. But he was unaware of the wolf. He was running at full speed for another reason. The reason was vague. It was some kind of danger that was so strange that Bunny didn't know what it was.

"Stop. Bunny Stop."

The voice was so clear that it sounded like it had come from inside his head. He dug all his paws into the hard surface without even taking time to reason if he should stop. He slid and slid slowing just a little as his nails scraped over the surface.

Then he saw it. The clear blue sky and no more rock. It was a cliff. He spun around and clawed the opposite direction but he had been moving so fast that his momentum took him to the cliff. He managed to claw and bite into a thin root, flew over the cliff and bounced back against the side.

He knew down was a long way. Too far to survive the fall. And up was just out of reach. A panting wolf's head appeared over the cliff and Bunny opened his jaws to scream as the wolf put his teeth around Bunny's neck.

Bunny was surprised that he wasn't dead. The wolf pulled him up and sat him on the stone.

The wolf sat, and then flopped down next to Bunny.

"You are one crazy Bunny, Bunny."

Bunny knew that if the wolf was going to eat him, he would not lay down and give Bunny a chance to run. The wolf looked up and Bunny looked up too. A big white bird circled above.

Bunny knew some birds would like to eat him.

"We have been given the pleasure and honour to watch out for you and protect you."

"Me."

"You are a smart Bunny. I am a wise wolf. And Bird has great vision and foresight. We have a mission and you are our leader."

"I am."

"Yes. We are depending on you, Bunny."

Bunny looked from Wolf to Bird and wondered if he had heard correctly. The wolf nodded as if he knew his thoughts.

"And what is our mission."

Professor Johnston put down the story and smiled. It was Sally's first story ever. And a good story to read before sleeping. He hadn't seen Sally since their last class. He knew she was busy. The world wanted software.

It was hard to get tired of her when she was seldom around. He would have to think of something else to occupy him mind.

"I'm not in love."

He hoped.

Thomas Bauer was the owner of a doughnut shop. In fact, he owned 63 of them. He was also one of Sally's semi-regular friends before she died. Not Sally. He liked having her around him at parties and she liked his cocaine. But that was Angela. And she died. The she Angela had been was gone. Forever. Not something we know. Maybe the energy of her was still somehow her somewhere else. Maybe a bit of her was now Sally. Maybe almost anything that was physically possible. But then again. Not likely. More likely were the things that most often happened.

"Angela."

Sally didn't know she was Angela. She did look at the man. Gave a slight smile in return of his.

"You don't come to see me no more. Did I offend you the last time."

"No. I've been busy. Got a new job. Was away for a while training for the job."

"You have a job."

"In a software company."

"Did you learn programming."

"Fuck no. I'm too dopy for that."

Who the fuck is this guy.

"Okay. Well. You look great. I've never seen you so, what, bloody fit and healthy. Explains why you haven't been visiting me no more. I'm your bad influence."

Sally smiled.

Fucking slime ball.

Sally didn't know it but Thomas Bauer made more money with cocaine than he did with coffee and doughnuts. It wouldn't have made any difference to Sally how he made his money. Or that he had any at all. She couldn't remember him. And she wasn't going to try to explain to him that Angela was dead, mostly, or at least her memories that had been stored in her brain, which was the most of it. So she made to go. But Sally was a little curious where her body had been. Had Angela been together with this guy.

Angela, Sally thought. One of the hottest. Always welcome at a party. The woman had given her body, which was broken, for her. Eat this in celebration of me until I come again. Sally smiled at the thought.

A church bell rang and snapped her into focusing on the situation she had to solve.

"I got to go."

She didn't know his name. She couldn't imagine liking the man. But he gave her a hug and told her to come by. Where, he didn't say. But he offered her a ride in his car. She said no but did note the plate. TB 63. She would ask Billy.

She also noted that his hand slipped into her back pocket on the hug scene. It wasn't really an ass grab and later when she thought to put her hand in that pocket she felt it.

What was it.

Well that was even later when she took it out, unfolded it, spilling some of it on the coffee table, and looked.

"What's that."

"Can you find out the owner of a Ferrari license plate TB 63."

Billy had the answer almost as fast as he could type.

"Cocaine."

"What."

Billy pointed at Sally's little pile of white powder.

"He has been tried for cocaine trafficking seven times. Never convicted."

"Tell me about cocaine."

Sally had heard of it. But where she and Billy came from it wasn't the drug. There had been marijuana, which they had tried; different pills that no one really knew what was what, meth and that sounded too much like schoolwork.

Billy looked up cocaine and after he had read to Sally what he thought was relevant, she tried a little. It felt nice but she couldn't really identify what was different. Except that she had a craving to get well fucked. And remembered Professor Johnston.

She smiled, kissed Billy on the forehead, and left.

Billy looked at the cocaine and decided to read more on the topic of the advantages and disadvantages of the drug. Just to know.

They had some time off for a few weeks. Billy took up the habit of running to help balance out his love of cooking and baking. Sally had a pretty rigorous training routine. Mostly to help her from going loony. She also took the liberty to take advantage of the professor. She didn't care to meet Rachael or any of his other friends. The professor would have liked to show her off but he also had no problem accepting Sally's desire to keep their relationship private.

It was a holiday from killing, or professional assassinations, as the company called the assignments. Strategic elimination of undesirable adversaries.

Soon enough their holiday was over and they had to plan for a new assignment. They landed in Israel at the Ben Gurion International Airport.

They were picked up at the airport in a black SUV with tinted windows. They were driven to a small city called Tayibe not too far to the north. They were guests in a safe house. They were given the remainder of the day to rest after the long flight and told that morning training would start at 06:00.

They had spent a week in Tayibe on a special training course. Israelis were world leaders in tricky assassinations. Most of their assassinations were never attributed to their assassination squad. Sally and Billy had been trained in their methods but there were things to know before submerging into Syria.

Damascus was, despite the mess it was in because of years of war and madness, a grand old city. One of the oldest. Old enough to be in the Bible. Much different than Washington. Sally and Billy were fascinated with the inner city and also a little frightened. It was hard to imagine that more people needed to die. The resent war had taken over 300,000 lives and it wasn't quite over. It had slowed. There was some since of order. Especially in Damascus. Aleppo was a different story. It had been trashed.

The more Billy researched the more he became disturbed by the madness of war. He understood the need to take out a few of the worst. They had names. Both in Damascus and Aleppo. Their mission demanded, unlike their last take out, subtlety. No bombs. No bullets. And no knives. Stay invisible and don't get caught.

Sally wasn't thrilled about wearing a burka, not a law, just practiced by many Muslim women, but it was practical for walking about in Syria with the intent to assassinate a few military men. Not all of them were rebels. Billy did not like being in a country where ignorant extremists ruled the land with terror. He did like the assignment. Sally was free to assassinate as few or as many as was safely possible. Don't go out at night. Don't stay long. Anywhere.

The sides in the war were not easily defined but whatever the principle or ideology might be for any of the targets, they were hateful extremists. And some of them were causing a problem for the company.

Sally carried a couple knives and a handgun in case she ran into trouble. Billy also had a handgun. But the job was to be done with a new weapon. An ancient weapon. Poison darts. Sally had to have vaccine shots to handle the substance. It made her groggy for days.

She had six darts for Damascus and hoped to use them all in one day. There was a big market where a few of their priority targets were known to take the liberty to show up on a Saturday. Parade around. Billy was responsible for face recognition. He had most memorized but also relied on his smartdevice. He had access to face recognition through the company. Just about instant. The algorithms only had a few faces to look for. Billy had a yes or no in the time it took to pretend he was lifting the smartdevice to his ear. No sound, no find. Sound. Hello activated an empty text message to Sally that vibrated on her thigh.

It was after an hour of walking about that Billy found a target. Sally followed the target for another twenty minutes before she felt right. The dart had a thin cellulous cover. Saliva could creep over the needlepoint and work its way up to the poison. That would be enough to knock Sally out even with he vaccines. When she was ready, she pretended to rub her nose, dropped a dart on her tongue, rolled her tongue and blew the little dart into the man's shoulder as she walked by. He felt it. He stopped to reach for his shoulder. The dart fell to the ground when his clothing shifted.

He looked around to see a few people avert their eyes. Sally and Billy were already lost in the crowd in opposite directions. An assassin of true quality did not stay around to gloat. Sally and Billy knew the man would be dead in less than an hour. First he would feel an itch that he would need to scratch. His skin would then become numb, as would the muscle under the skin.

And shortly after that he would be paralyzed. He wouldn't be able to talk. Then he would fall over and slowly run out of air because opening up his lungs required muscles. And his heart was also a muscle.

And he would die, staring at the people looking at him wondering what had happened.

After Sally had spent her six darts they were taken to Aleppo. It was a long hard week there. They were in over their heads, as the saying went. They managed to track down a few targets on their list. Many of them were inapproachable. There was still conflicts in Aleppo. Billy couldn't make sense of the hits. Some seemed to be getting weapons from the United States and fighting for freedom from the State while the army was fighting them and both were fighting the extremists. Sally took the liberty of taking out anyone from the extremists. She could move fairly freely among them in the occupied zone as a quiet and dawdling bag lady that sold oranges out of her bag. She was dirty enough to pass as someone men would ignore rather than take a closer look.

She was happy to be out of Syria and back to relative sanity in Tel Aviv where she and Billy spent a couple weeks enjoying the nightlife and the fine foods during the day.

Back in Washington Sally met with Daisy in a small café for congratulations on a job well done. There was a nice bonus that bypassed their consulting company and went on a journey with Billy somewhere and landed into something. There was a strong recommendation to take a month off before any new assignments were available. Enjoy your life assignment.

"Does the professor know anything about what you do."

"Not what I do. I work for a startup software company. Boring still. Getting better. I change the topic. He likes my stories."

"If I may give some motherly advice."

"Don't get too close."

"In the movies they like to make you think a man would love nothing more than a hot professional killer. Reality is different."

"I'm ready and willing to go anywhere any time. Well, except for Syria."

"Understandable."

"So much madness."

"What are you doing for fun here."

"Billy loves to cook and bake. He loves to program codes for things he explains and I don't know what he saying. He's always writing code. He has algorithms for everything. Says it's crazy not to. He thinks he can figure the whole thing out."

"Good for Billy. I hope he does. He'll get all the support he needs."

"I like to write little stories but mostly I train to stay fit."

Daisy smiled. She realized she was having a good day.

"You look great, Sally. Stay fit and have some fun. I'm off."

"I will. Have a good flight."

Daisy paid the bill and left. Sally watched her go. Back to Zurich. Always back to Zurich.

There was a conversation going on for several minutes that was a reaction to one of the stories written by a reluctant to admit the solar system was heliocentric Christian student. Somehow the conversation slipped away from writing style and clarity to the validity of Christianity.

Sally almost always resisted the urge to participate in the class debates that often sprung up. She liked watching them. Picking out the clever ideas and the brain-dead babbles. But after being raised by a chain smoking wino Mormon and just getting back from a dusty version of hell, she was already irritated. Not quite in full control. She said something. She didn't remember what she said. It was almost like snapping something at Billy. Just a pissed off reaction. But it led to the word. The demand for respect. For a worn out murderous death cult.

"No I shouldn't. Why would I show respect for a belief in a protagonist that called himself God based on unoriginal hack stories mimicking astrology written by well off madmen who were in bed with the emperors, or whatever they were called, with full intention to keep the poor ignorant and obedient."

"What."

"You have been brain raped by stories you don't understand. You say Lot was a great man, he was a whiny bitch that raped his virgin daughters after trying to get the town's folk to gang rape them. Moses had hundreds of sex slaves. Sex slaves whose parents he had murdered. You have made the most horrible characters into the greatest heroes. And it seems to be an ongoing trend. History books are full of mass murdering tyrants who we are told are great. We talk of great empires. Empires are all about a few elite keeping slaves or working class peasants to build a system that shines with gold and diamonds but is stained by blood and poverty."

Professor Johnson was trying to contain a smile. He loved it when Sally actually made it to his class and to see her finally bust out with her view really excited him.

There were a few Christians and Moslems in the class. Professor Johnson knew they would still have their religions no matter how much anyone told them they were holding to old fables. They were convinced anyone not in their club was not only an idiot but destine to serve eternity in hell being tortured to death 12 times a day and 13 on Sunday.

The class was over and a few had already left but a few stayed to have it out with Sally. Professor Johnston was impressed with her knowledge of religions and history. She was not a normal student. She was a freak. Beautiful freak. A wild dangerous creature.

Eventually they all left but Sally who sat and contemplated her outburst.

Sally looked up at Professor Johnston.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry."

"I sometimes think I should be quiet since I'm not paying for going to this school."

"America. Land of the free. I don't know a professor that has a problem with someone who sits in on a class. People pay so they can get a diploma or some letters on their name. People who sit in are usually the most curious and interested in learning. The freaks of nature that professors love to see. Here is one that could actually do something. And he or she has chosen to sit in on my class. A sit in is a compliment to the professor."

Sally laughed. The professor was getting excited.

"Can I ask a non sequitur."

Professor Johnson smiled. He adored Sally. He tried not to show it too much.

"Why did your parents call you John."

Professor Johnson laughed.

"Why not."

"John Johnson. Is that like John, John's son. John son of John."

"Not such an uncommon name. I'll tell you how it happened. When I was 12 my parents died in a car crash. My aunt adopted me. Her and her husband. I was John Steinbeck before being adopted. They wanted me to have their name."

"What. Steinbeck. Like the upset grapes."

The professor had to laugh.

"Distant relation. Grandfather's uncle or something. But my mother was an English literature professor. It's part of the reason I became an English professor. She gave me the love of literature."

Sally thought about it. How long had they been, what would one call it, lovers. And she knew very little about him.

"Okay, Sally. I've another class."

"Do you have any plans for tonight."

"I'll read some papers and leave my window open."

Sally smiled and sat for another few minutes after John Johnson was gone. Then she got up and headed toward Melvin C Hazen Park. She wondered what might be a nice place to visit. A café for a coffee. Or a trip. They hadn't been anywhere for days. Maybe somewhere quiet. Billy could fuck off and make friends while Sally wrote a story. Then he could cook her dinner. Or find a great place to eat.

She had been so caught up in her vague plans that she almost ran into some thugs. She guessed that they were Christians because her outspoken rant was focused toward a Christian. The thugs were waiting for Sally just off campus. Maybe they had been following her or someone else was and told them where to wait. Sally saw no one from the class.

She might have been able to avoid the three horseless men of her prophesied apocalypse. It would have meant running. She could outrun them. That instinct didn't speak to her. If it had it would have said: not interested, deal. She saw the amateur hit men watching for her and saw them talking on their smartdevices, making certain it was her. She would have to warn them that they would be messing with the wrong bitch. But she had a sore spot for pricks that even thought to mess with women because they believed they could. She stopped herself from going through the history of inhuman treatment of women. She was calm.

She didn't really want to hurt anyone, at least a part of her that was likely listening to the logic of Billy, if she could just explain to them that if they ever approach a woman to threaten them in any way, she would bust their balls. She wondered if that could make a fun comic. Sally the Ball Breaker. She would talk to Billy about it. She laughed. No she wouldn't. Maybe she would.

"What's so funny."

"I was just thinking of a story for a comic. It's called Sally the Ball Breaker. She busts balls. A super hero thing."

"You really are a lunatic."

"From your point of view I'm sure you think that's true. I could explain to you why your perspective is too narrow to build any kind of logical examination of my mental state. But you don't want to know that. You have something else you want to tell me. I can't imagine all three of you want to ask me to a dance."

"Can you shut the fuck up."

"I can. But it isn't to anyone's advantage. I'm less likely to hurt someone who might think they have something to tell me that I've fucking heard already. Happened before. But there were six of them that time. You are only three. Maybe I will stop talking."

"You're the anti-Christ whore fucking retard that can't keep her fucking mouth shut. This is a Christian country and if you have a problem with that you can go back to hell where you came from."

"I won't even bother telling how wrong you are. Just advice you to do some research."

"Do you even try to make sense."

"Are you done. I can't waste any more time with morons. My therapists says. Makes me crazy. I hit people. Life is just too short to be fighting. Piss off."

Sally tried to wave them away like a fly in her face. Diplomacy was definitely Billy's thing. She was pretty good at it some times. Even most times. Just not all times.

"You must apologize and recant your blasphemy."

Sally had a little laugh. She wasn't even certain she had heard correctly. She was tuning out and couldn't listen to individual words.

"Get the fuck out of my face or I will hurt you."

She expressed herself seriously. She started to walk away knowing they couldn't let her go. She was far too ahead on points. She noticed someone watching. They had a smartdevice pointing her way.

"You can back off and I will just keep walking. Then we won't have any serious problem. I really am supposed to stay out of trouble. We don't want trouble. Do we. Don't stand in my way and don't touch me and I'll let you go with a warning."

Sally was ready for a crisis. She would have been disappointed had it dissipated. She had no difficulty with three fighters in the virtual world. She wanted to see how it played out in the real world. The one life world.

"You aren't going anywhere. You need to learn some respect."

"Respect cannot be taught."

"You are so wrong."

She looked at the other two. Who's next. She made to step away and got slapped hard across the face. She let it happen. It was a hit she could have blocked. But she wanted a black eye or a scratch. For the record. There were a few more witnesses that had notice the filming of an upcoming event. So they got their smartdevices pointing as well. This is so fucked. She smiled. And waited. Indignation. That was what they were fighting for. The right to be violently offended when told their bullshit was bullshit. Beating. Gang rape. Maybe burning on a cross. How far would they go for their beliefs. Their old fucking idiot death cult. He slapped her harder. Sally was pumped.

Sally punched him so hard so fast in the stomach that he screamed. He was tough and didn't fall over. But the surprise left him stunned long enough for Sally to punch him three times in the face. When he tried to grab her she broke his elbow.

When the next one grabbed from behind she swung her elbow up into his face. After that she kept swinging and being positively brutal. When she noticed how much fun she was having and how much damage she was causing, she tried not to smile and left. She didn't wave to any cameras.

"What's up, Billy."

"Just wondering about stuff. Figuring if I can figure something better with one code or another. And you."

"Me too. Mostly."

"What's with your face."

"You don't like it."

Billy closed his laptop and got up to look at Sally's face.

"I'm wondering if this job might be having adverse affects on my disposition."

"I think you are supposed to say, you should see the other guy."

"That too."

"So. Some one punched you and I'm guessing you let them so you could punch them."

"I know you aren't reprimanding me, Billy. But do let me explain. I lashed out today at class and then after class in the park some guys wanted to slap me about so I laid in on them with little regard for restraint."

"Oh. They are alive."

"Yes. I was irritated, not murderous."

Billy took out his smartdevice and checked local news sites.

The news reported the incident of three students being attacked near the University of the District of Colombia. The victims claimed that a group of Muslim extremists had attacked them from behind. It happened so fast that they didn't see their faces. Other than that there was no mention of a female assassin.

Then Billy tried babbletube for attacks in Melvin C Hazen Park.

"Ah. This is more like it."

Sally leaned toward Billy to watch the video. She knew it was her. No one else would.

"They were big enough. I'm proud of you."

Sally punched Billy in the arm.

"They told us. Taught us, to be civilized. That might get me in trouble."

"They attacked you. You defended yourself. And you can be pretty sure, if the official story is any indication, they won't go to the police."

"It might make going to class difficult."

"I'll give you some cookies to take next time."

"So they think I'm a nice girl."

"You are."

"Nice and violent."

"My guess is the Internet nuts make you out to be a hero."

"I actually thought of that. I thought about Sally the Ball Buster. She saves women from thugs. Could be a comic."

"Think it's been done more than once. Oh, look at this one. Or listen. Three University of the District of Colombia Football team first liners will miss the season's opening game because of terrorist attack just off campus. Three men with hats and backpacks."

"That sounds likely."

"It fits the business model. Call it marketing."

"I don't want to be helping them. I think we should take a little time off. Something relaxing far away from this city."

"You don't like this city anymore."

"I love this city. I just need to shut down and clear my head. Avoid beating people."

"When."

"Tomorrow. I want to visit John tonight."

"The professor."

"The professor."

"Where do you want to go."

"Um. Caribbean or Costa Rica to take a jungle tour. Then back to a beach to walk up and down and watch a few sun sets."

"Should I book something for tomorrow then."

"Sure. Whatever you choose is good with me."

"How long."

"Three weeks."

"A right proper chill out."

"I'll be back before you get up."

Sally kissed Billy on the cheek and gave him a hug.

"You can be in charge of all protocol."

Sally climbed up the professor's fire escape ladder and sat for few minutes watching him work. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading through the papers of students. When he got to Sally's story he smiled. She liked that. She waited until he finished reading her story then slowly pushed the window open. He looked up and smiled.

"An angel outside my window."

"I'm no angel."

"Pretty close."

Sally smiled and crawled into the professor's bedroom.

"Do you have much more to do."

"Nothing I have to do today. Do you want anything to drink. Coffee. Tea. Beer. Whiskey."

"Okay."

"What happened to your face."

"It's nothing."

"Looks like you were hit by a tree."

"Something like that."

The professor wasn't convinced. Sally didn't want to talk about it. It was history and not the kind of history she cared to think about. Sally wanted a little physical attention first. In the now. So she took it before the professor could think up any more questions.

"What did you decide on."

"Whiskey."

"Really."

"I like an alcoholic drink every few months."

"Well, if it's so seldom, perhaps I better offer you a shot of South American Rum. It is beautiful."

"Okay."

"Have you eaten."

"Yes. Billy cooked something great again."

"Your roommate. Do I ever get to meet him."

"You might. I'll ask him if he'll invite you for an evening meal. He is a little jealous of you."

"Oh. Is that bad."

"Not for me."

They took their Rum to the sofa and listened to some music while Sally watched the professor and the professor watched Sally.

"Are you going to stay tonight."

"I will till you go to sleep."

"What if I stay awake."

"I'll wear you out. You will sleep. I've got to go pack."

"Ah, another business trip."

"No. Not for me anyway. This is a needed vacation. Billy will work some. He's code addicted since he was seven or eight. He thinks we are co-evolving with technology and he wants to be part of it. Bigger than the dinosaurs he proclaims. He doesn't know he's working. He would be doing what he is doing if he was still sitting in his room at his mother's apartment. The company keeps giving him shares every time he writes more code. The rate he's going it will be his company. Robotics and machine learning. I don't really understand it all. But the idea is that they are writing code to teach code to correct code and optimize it. He says it's a huge business. It's already driving cars. If than is evolving into something very big."

"If than."

"If this, than that. There are libraries of codes that do various functions or parts of functions. You don't need to program everything new. You need to know what you need, find it, modify it to suit your needs. Computers have enough code now to analyze their code to see if they can optimized it. Car intelligence gets smarter the more data it collects. It, the code, with the sensors, can make very quick decisions. It makes predictions for the future. They, it, will make driving a car a thing of history. Humans are too dangerous."

"So you do know a bit about it."

"I represent the company. I know the basics."

"But you don't understand code. How did you end up working for a software company."

"From today's perspective. I got lucky."

"It sounds like it."

"I know enough about coding for my job."

"You are a little out of the ordinary, Sally."

"Thanks, Professor."

"Do you ever sleep."

"I sleep."

"I'd like to see it."

"You don't stand a chance tonight. But maybe some other time."

"Our clinic is destroyed; it's 200 light years to Mampf star system, she's lost both legs and her left arm."

It could have been worse. They could have been obliterated by the attack. Zargor wasn't worried about Rendance. She had suffered worse. Only a few weeks ago she nearly burnt to death. What worried Zargor more was the pointless war. They had been completely unprepared for it. No one had showed any signs of hostility to a Fellowship Star Ship Alliance for 30,000 standard years.

Zargor was looking at the details of the system check. The damage was significant but not crippling. 30 standard days would get them to the Mampf star system.

"This is stupid."

"What is, Sally."

Sally looked up from her writing to see Billy watching her. She smiled at him.

"I want to write something for class."

She put down her pen and dropped her robe on the floor and got into bed.

And went to sleep.

They hired a guide with his truck to have a look at places not so common to tourists. They were on their way to Jaun Castro Blanco National Park and stopped at a small café in a village that could be more aptly described as a tiny community. Neither Sally nor Billy was versed in Spanish. Billy wanted eggs over easy with his refried beans and toast. He explained a few times to their guide who spoke English as good or better than the average American. Billy demonstrated with his hands how it was done but the waitress, also the cook, refused to understand. She maintained a big smile before finally telling the guide that Billy should come into the kitchen and show them. So Billy figured, fine. I will.

He left Sally and Rodrigues at their table and followed the waitress into the kitchen. She pointed at the bucket of fat. Billy guessed pig fat but wasn't certain. And the frying pan. He dropped in a little fat and waited for it to melt then gently placed in two eggs. The girls. The two young women watched and prepared the rest of the breakfast. When the time was right, Billy flipped the two eggs gently. Just for a minute. The reason one does this is to finish off the whites of the eggs. Those, as far as Billy understood, were not to be runny. In fact, he couldn't eat them if the whites were runny. But the yellows. They could be a little runny. So out they came onto the plate. The girls smiled. Billy figured they might very well have seen eggs over easy in their lives but he didn't know. Usually the eggs were scrambled. That was also okay with Billy. Except today he wanted them over easy. And if he had to get invited into the kitchen to do it himself, that was fine by him.

Rodrigues and Sally were smiling when Billy came back from his visit with the young women. It was a normal, somewhat fatty, local breakfast and very satisfying. They all drank a black coffee afterwards.

Then they were back on the road. Taking it slowly and stopping often to enjoy the scenery. Billy took several photos with his smartdevice. They spent the afternoon in Jaun Castro Blanco National Park and then the evening and the next day at Hotel El Tucano Resort & Thermal Spa.

The next stop was DoubleTree Resort on the Pacific. There they spent a few days before heading south. They spent a night in San Jose so Rodrigues could be with his family and Sally and Billy could do some fine dining. Then they were off with a one-engine plane to the southwest to spend a few nights in Iguana Lodge Beach Resort & Spa. They had a look over at Panama but didn't visit.

They had to buy a few things, like leather boots to keep snakes from biting, before they went on a 10-day not at all luxurious jungle trek. This could only be done with a guide that knew how to survive in the jungle. Not the same as a stroll in the park. On this journey there were three other hikers with them. Not in the physical condition of Sally and Billy but they were real troupers and kept pace.

Sleeping was in a hammock with a mosquito and other insect net. There were spiders and snakes. Scorpions and other small and large creatures. Toucans and sloths were often spotted. Monkeys and other primates. The guide knew them all by name. They didn't see any large predatory cats. But that was not a bad thing. Many different colourful birds and frogs and butterflies. And trees. One doesn't often think of trees when in a jungle because they were everywhere. But if your guide wants you to see them, he points and says look, a bird shitting on a branch started this tree and the roots grew down the other tree and eventually strangle it. And then one walked inside the hollow tree and saw all the bats that live in it.

The three weeks flew by before they could even wonder about how long they had been from Washington. But like all grand adventures, well most anyway, the three weeks did end and they were back in their apartment wondering what the hell was going on.

"I have an idea for a little business."

"Not yet you don't."

Sally knew it was a place in Costa Rica. It was easy to fall in love with the country. It was about as close to the opposite extreme as one could get from their last big trip.

Sally had managed to write one little story for her writing class.

Mammal's Revenge

We go back just about 65 million years to the conference of mistreated mammals on Mt. Sini.

"We have tried all possible protocol with these big brutal rampaging meat eaters. They pay us no heed and will allow us no quarter."

"What can we do other than eat as many of their eggs as we can stomach."

"We need to nearly destroy the planet."

"Nearly destroy the planet. Are you mad. We also depend on the planet."

"We do. But as long as the dinosaurs reign we will not have much chance of evolving into sexy primates."

"What's wrong with being a furry rat."

"Not a thing. Those who choose to remain furry rats can do so. I wish to feel the skin of my lover on my skin. With no hair. Soft and smooth. Oh what a feeling it would be."

Needless to say, but we will anyway, there was such uproar that they ran the risk of attracting hungry predators.

"If the calculations of our team of astronomical observers is correct, we must only encourage a small piece of the sky to fall. A hard piece. Now this must be big enough and yet not too big. The calculations are a little tricky but our team of smart rats is working on it. This space rock will bring devastation and wipe out our enemy. In no time we can evolve and thrive as we please."

"I wanna be an elephant."

"You can be an elephant, my son."

It wasn't as easy as making a hole in the ground but a giant slingshot was eventually built and stones were shot out into the asteroid belt year after year until an asteroid was dislodge and fell into the planet. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Professor Johnston laughed when he read the story. Partly because it was a silly story, even if it was truer than some stories. But mostly because he knew Sally would be at his window in the evening.

Their next assignment was in New York New York. Billy, as usual, had made all the arrangements. He had booked a six-day stay at the Hotel Mulberry. They used disposable ID. Sister and brother. They were also booked at Prescott Hotel for the same time relatively officially as who they were. Billy preferred the nicer hotel for thinking and relaxing. He thought of Hotel Mulberry as their factory. Also a fine hotel but picked for its location.

Dr. Silverfish was the target. It was to be flashy. His associates were acceptable collateral damage. It had to be public.

"What are our parameters."

"It has to look political. A confusing statement."

"A car bomb."

"No. Car bombs are over used. They're ugly and mean. Any dickhead can blow up a car. We need something a little flashier."

"Poison darts."

"Not obvious enough."

"Elephant gun."

"Hard to carry in a crowd."

There was a holy assembly at the site.

Billy had been working on an idea in his head. He took another look at the itinerary. Bankers, weapon handlers, security conglomerates. It was tempting to take them all out but it wasn't in their assignment's requirements. They were to follow the guidelines. It's what they were paid to do. It made the assignments more challenging and more fun.

"A remote controlled drone. Or twelve of them in tandem. Or from twelve different directions. Or. Let's be biblical and make the twelve a distraction with small explosives. And the wrath of Jesus drone drops in from above and drives a silver spike through his head."

Sally looked at Billy to see if he was joking or thinking. He was planning. He was still colouring outside the lines but he had his idea. He explained his plan to Sally.

"Yes. That will make an impression. What do we need."

Billy made a list. Thought it through and added a couple things.

Buying 12 drones was a bit of a problem. They didn't want to buy more than one in any shop. Luckily New York was a big city. It took most of the day to track down the 12 hobby shops and at the end of the day Sally was relieved to dispose of her wig and remove the makeup that made her look 30 years older. Her leg was sore from the brace she and Billy had made to make her walk with a slight limp. It wasn't too obvious but enough for any sales person to remember should a detective come in and ask if anyone bought a drone. Drones were a pretty big seller.

Billy was in his element preparing a new remote that he had built with components from all 12 remotes. Sally watched but didn't talk while Billy worked on the small thermite explosives.

"Is the do not disturb sign on the door."

Sally smiled. She had just checked after going to the bathroom.

Billy spent most of the next day checking his programming. Sally watched and tried to understand what he was doing but she didn't disturb him with questions. When he was finally satisfied they dressed up and had a perfect meal at the hotel restaurant before going back to the factory to sleep a bit and prepare the drones. They would all be leaving in the morning. Guests and drones. Billy changed his mind about the wrath of Jesus and went with Thor in the end.

**chapter 06 _** **sally works with caprice**

A few weeks later Sally lay flat on the top of an office building in Miami and tried not to think what Daisy had planned for her. Billy was to stay in Washington till further notice. He was working on code. Sally was needed to help on a special assignment. Sally had a stealth helicopter waiting behind her and a long-range high-powered assault riffle in her hands.

"Sally. We can't hang here much longer."

She heard her, Daisy, in her head. She hadn't really said anything. She wouldn't when Sally was aiming at a target. It was taking too long. She just couldn't see her target. He had gotten down on his knees in front of a gravestone. Sally wasn't certain if she could make the shot count with a shot up his ass.

Stand up you scum bag.

And as if he had heard her he stood up and looked exactly in her direction. Likely he saw the helicopter. Sally waited just a second. The blades making a quiet whoop whoop whoop. The gentle wind blowing in a slight smell of salt water.

Focus Sally.

The flowers were fresh on the grave of his wife who he had killed but had been acquitted of because of lack of evidence. A several million-dollar motive. That wasn't the reason for the hit. Sally and Billy never knew the reasoning behind their well-paid assignments. Sally cleared her thoughts and shot the man in the head. By the time his brain parts hit the ground Sally was jumping into the helicopter.

The helicopter started to fall away slowly from the building and out toward the dark.

Sally took the gun apart and tossed the pieces out the open door when they were over the ocean. It seemed like such a waste but she knew that there was an endless supply of guns and though they weren't as easy to trace as a smartdevice, they did tend to leave their signature.

"How is your brain treating you, Sally."

"It's working well. Not like Billy's but I'm fit."

"Good to hear."

"Where am I going."

"You are going to meet an old friend who you won't remember. Your body used to be a friend. It might be hard. Take your time. You two are the best for this assignment. Make it work."

It was the first time Daisy had been with Sally on a hit. Sally wasn't nervous really. Just curious as to why. If Daisy intended to tell her she would, so Sally decided to watch the moonlight reflecting on the waves.

"You next assignment doesn't require Billy to be there. He will be virtually there any time you think you need to know something. You will have local support as well. The company is everywhere."

Daisy smiled and wondered. She wasn't certain about the South Pole.

Sally closed her eyes and listened to the sounds. She didn't know how much time had gone by when she noticed the helicopter come to about three meters above the water. It was her stop. She figured that out but she had a quick look at Daisy anyway. Daisy gave a hint of a smile and nodded.

"Have some fun."

Sally jumped. By the time she had fallen into the water and resurfaced, the helicopter was gone. Sally could swim better than most people but she would die of thirst just about as quickly as most of them. She wondered if the company lied. They could say they never kill their own. Daisy said the assassination really was not a significant part of the company. It was clear that Billy was their lithium mine. She was just another trained killer.

She floated on her back after she looked around for a boat. The moon was nearly full. She could see a fair distance. She knew where North was. South might get her to Cuba. She was just about decided to give it a go when she felt a disturbance in the water. Incorrect waves.

She could make out a black rubber dingy. When it got beside her, a pair of arms reached out to haul her in. She nodded a thank you but didn't figure it was time to speak. She looked in the direction they were soon heading and saw a boat. A rather large luxury sailing yacht with its sails down.

So here I am on a boat in the ocean, or in and on, Sally thought. The man in the dingy had greeted her just before they reached the yacht. He called himself the captain. He gave no other name and Sally didn't give hers and was not asked. She was shown to a small beautifully finished room with two bunks and a little table with two comfortable looking benches. On one bunk was a sleeping figure. On the other bunk lay some clothes and some small weapons and her new identity. There would be time to look at it after a short shower. She took a towel and went to look for the shower.

When Sally went back to her room there was a laptop computer on the small table. It was on and ready to go providing Sally had a password to get started. Sally had a password. It was her identification code.

"Your mission, should you choose to accept it."

Sally turned around to see a rather beautiful woman smiling at her. Sally could tell that she had been to the same academy of assassins. It wasn't something obvious. It was extremely not obvious and extremely not obvious in a small room on a luxury yacht after being dropped out of a helicopter in the ocean by her boss with a mission instruction within her view made it clear.

"Yes. Hello."

The woman jumped out of the bunk like a ballerina and held out her hand.

"My name, for this mission, is Ana Mari Bolivar."

Sally wasn't usually attracted to women, though she realized she hadn't had so much time with any, she was strangely attracted to Ana Mari. Or she felt Ana Mari was attracted to her as if she was an old friend and lover.

"I don't know my name yet."

"Your name is Mary Garsiani."

"Are we lovers."

"That's a long story."

Sally noticed the woman that had all at once seemed like an old friend looked a little disappointed about Sally.

"They didn't tell me anything at all about this assignment. My boss just sprung it on me."

Sally noticed Ana Mari snap out of her thoughts and focus on the present. That thing Sally had to do before each hit. Everything is now.

"I mostly work alone on the hits. My partner is a guy. He's trained. But the job needs two women. And I requested you. I hope that's okay. I mean. You could refuse. Anyway, sorry, I don't usually get flustered. My partner does mostly things I don't understand with computers and planning and whatever it is that he does."

"I think they pump us out that way. My partner fits the same description. We were friends before. He always did things with wires and resistors or whatever the things are. He taught me how to hotwire a car."

"Are you lovers too."

"No. We are best friends."

"I'm sure he has thought about it."

Sally smiled.

"It's what most boys think about when they see tits."

Ana Mari sat down in front of the computer and Sally sat down beside her. It was time to start work. Ana Mari knew the details and the hits but the new girl didn't know anything about the assignment. And the assignment wasn't a simple hit and leave kind of assignment. It was rather delicate and the first part of the assignment was sexist. They would exploit their own beauty and the pure virgin goddess image to commit information theft.

After studying the floor plan of what could be considered a palace in Caracas and its surrounding grounds, Ana Mari explained about the comings and goings of everyone from food and linen delivery, to live in servants, to cooks and bakers and to escorts and prostitutes. They were escorts, not prostitutes. A little creepy sometimes but no sex. Just eye candy.

The first part of the assignment was robbery and reconnaissance. No one died until after the robbery.

Ana Mari was a part time student studying microbiology and molecular physics at Simon Bolivar University. She eventually wanted to study rocket science as well but rocket science was in another country. She was a model and escort at an exclusive agency. There were those who presumed a woman from an escort service was a higher priced prostitute. At Sarah Solomon's Model and Escort Agency this was not the case. This was made explicitly clear to their clientele. There were many business men visiting big cities all around the world who required the company of an outrageously beautiful escort to accompany them to dinner meetings and to show them around to the nicest clubs and most importantly for many, help them find good quality cocaine without having to chase the shit down in some back street where no one trusted anyone and who knew what kind of mixture you were going to get or if you came out alive. It was good to have an escort.

"Caracas is now mostly a city of hunger and desperation. There are some clean and beautiful places still. In the last few years things have gotten very bad. We have the biggest morons and crooks running everything. I don't know why we haven't been asked to off the lunatics."

"Caracas. Is that where you live."

"Until I get out. I'm thinking I am done here after our job. With the country and maybe even the business. I want to go to Europe."

"Are you still good for this assignment."

"I was made for this assignment."

"Good. It sounds like a nice job."

There was time to learn all there was to learn so after getting an overview of the mission and a look at the stars while lying on deck, they went to sleep in their bunks and woke up to the sun bursting in through the portholes and the smell of coffee.

The captain and his girlfriend, or wife, were the only crewmembers. They asked no questions other than those related to drinking and eating.

They were booked at Caraballeda Caribe Club for three weeks. They didn't bother with customs. They were delivered to a beach in the rubber dingy a few miles up the coast and walked along the beach to the hotel. They took time to settle in and sit by the pool with a fresh mixed fruit drink. After a short nap in the shade they decided to visit the city.

Their first stop was at the agency. Sally was a little surprised to see her own photo on the wall. She wasn't impressed. The girl looked coked out and covered in makeup. It was a photo from when she hadn't been part of that person. She figured it all made some sense. Her body had been a good friend of Ana Mari. Angela liked cocaine. This had been part of her life. Back when she had a different brain. Sally felt like an imposter. She wanted to explain that she was dead. And she was someone else now. Caprice knew that but no one else did.

Sally was welcomed back as a familiar face. Sarah embraced her and told her how she had missed her. Asked if she was training for the Olympics. Asked if she was available for an upcoming party or are you just visiting Ana Mari. Mary nodded to the upcoming party. It was why she was there. Ana Mari watched her and smiled. She knew that Mary had no idea where she was. Other than what Ana Mari had explained to her. Ana Mari saw the difference but she had been Angela's best friend. Ana Mari didn't want to understand that it was so absolute. But she knew Mary wasn't who she was. No one else would know. They wouldn't get past her face and figure. Her penetrating eyes. Sally appeared to be Angela. Mary.

They visited Ana Mari's apartment before returning to the hotel. Sally noticed a snap shot of the two of them on a beach. She took the photo into the bathroom and looked at it and her reflection together. Ana Mari came in and stood beside her.

"You don't remember."

"No."

"Do you remember anything."

"I have her nervous system. Even a small part of her brain stem. But I am not her."

"We were best friends and lovers. We drove the boys crazy when we went partying."

"I'm not a party girl. Never got around to it. Billy and I liked adventures. That was how we partied."

"I'm not either. Can't party and stay fit both. I partied some with you, or Angela, I mean. She partied more than most people. She was a lot of fun. She was determined to party herself to death. I guess she did."

Back at the hotel Caprice told Sally about Angela's life. Angela was born in Washington to fairly well off parents that managed to have quite a sum of capital bequeathed to her before they inadvertently both got shot in their heads while travelling at a speed somewhat over the recommend limit and thus, not having working heads, losing control of the German made luxury sedan proceeded to drive off the road, over a field, through a barn, killing 6 chickens, injuring 2 goats and scaring the shit out of a cow that concurrently miscarried, through a newly planted apple orchard, destroying nearly 100 saplings, over a cliff and into the ocean.

"Really."

"No. But it was a little like that. You told me. A few times. Especially if you were really drunk."

Angela was in somewhat of a panic when the screaming of the chickens woke her from her backseat snooze. With so much blood and so few heads in relation to number of bodies in the car, she was certainly in a fright when the car impacted into the shallow water and air bags burst around her.

Had the water been even a few centimeters deeper she too would have died for she was unconscious for several hours. When she did awaken she had to crawl into the front seat, over her dead mother who luckily had the window down to smoke a cigarette, and out that window and into the Atlantic. She did have the presence of mind to take her mother's purse then crawl back in to take her father's wallet.

Then she sat on the beach and let the dawning sun dry her clothes and the items she had from her dead parents. She was sad, of course, but she didn't think to cry. Her parents were okay. They gave her all the things she needed and most anything she wanted. They were, however, never around and she had a better relationship with the live in nanny.

Sally was quite fascinated with the story that had obviously been embellished by the dead woman's fantasies. Maybe by Caprice as well. Sally liked Angela. She seemed about as reckless as she and Billy had been. Minus the parties and the cocaine.

"What about you."

"My mother was born in Georgetown.

"Which Georgetown."

"Just down the beach in the next country."

"How many George towns are there."

"About a dozen, I'd guess. Some as one word, some as two."

"And who was George."

"There were a dozen of them too."

"Sorry. I get side tracked sometimes. Please go on."

The majority of inhabitants of Guyana are Indians from India. So it is necessary to say Amerindian when referring to the people that may have settled 12,000 or so years earlier. Perhaps descendants from the folk that may have wandered over the Bering Strait. Don't think that's settled yet. Anyhow, ocean levels were lower because the ice age had a load of water piled up on the two poles. So the story goes but is not relevant to ours. Those folk are about five percent at most. The slave labour industry was the Africans. When that went out of style the British Merchants imported cheap labour from India. We are the bulk of most the rest of us. Understand. Sally nodded.

The mother of Caprice was an Indian of Indian from India decent, as far as she knew. And her father was an American suit from who knew where that had told her mother many lies to have a short romance. He took his business back to The States, before the mother of Caprice knew she was with child.

Caprice grew up poor. That was normal in Guyana. Too many resources and no infrastructure. She was not so pleased to learn about her father.

And on her 16th birthday she tracked him down, said, 'Hi Dad.' And put a bullet in his forehead. It didn't kill him but did put him in a long coma. He was kept in a coma even longer.

She was arrested and charged with attempted manslaughter. She was Catholic about it and played the Jesus protagonist and answered no questions. She didn't even bother with some silly rhetorical thing he was said to have said. She knew he didn't. After many psychological tests and six months of imprisonment she was recruited, as in pretty much vanished, to become what she now was. A company woman.

"Are you seeing anyone back in Washington."

"I see many people. It's a big city."

Caprice looked at Sally. There was no way of telling if she was fucking with her or simply misunderstood the question. Sally smiled.

"I'm dating an English professor. Well, dating is a euphemism. He's my on call lover. He's a great lover and a good professor. Even when we aren't having sex I like being with him."

"Do you think he would be jealous of me."

"I'm pretty sure. Humans tend to be like that. But he wouldn't say anything."

"Do you think you will be dating him in five years."

"I don't know what I'm doing in five weeks. I'd have to ask Billy."

Caprice looked at Sally.

"Tell me about you and Billy when you were kids."

Sally told Caprice about growing up in Detroit with Billy as her best friend from the time they both crawled around on the dirty floors of either one of their mothers. No dads. But they hadn't thought to track them down and kill them. They were a team and the rest of the world could go to hell.

Sally told Caprice about stealing cigarettes and cars. And how that hobby landed them in a clinic that lead to being recruited by the company for intensive training. It was a serious update. Even the clinic was a serious update. I have some of the child version Sally memories but most of her is a long way in the past.

Sally and Caprice talked long into the night learning about each other. Getting to know each other again for the first time. Feeling more relaxed in each other's company. It was important for their mission to be very close and know each other's tendencies and movements. Likes and dislikes. Hopes and fears. They couldn't go to the party not knowing everything best friends would know.

They had to start to plan for their mission. They had to learn all there was to know about the Cortez Cartel. Sally sent a short massage to Billy to see what he would dig up. He was the master of such research. Caprice and her partner knew almost everything there was to know. Just not what was on his computer that was not connected to the Internet.

Sally, Caprice and eight other young escorts from the agency had a job the next evening. None of the other girls were assassins, at least as far as anyone knew. They had all been requested for a very exclusive dinner party at Don Juan's Palace. Sarah Solomon's Model and Escort Agency was strictly what it sold itself as. If anyone at the party wanted sex it would have to be arranged with another agency. Don Juan knew that.

The girls were conversation and decoration. Don Juan always used Sarah Solomon's Model and Escort Agency for his business dinners because the girls were prefect. Finding beautiful girls in Venezuela was easy. Any whorehouse would rent out a dozen for a few Bolivars. The girls, young women, working for Sarah Solomon's Model and Escort Agency could carry on intelligent conversations. They were educated and clever. It was this that made them worth the money it cost to get them to act as if they couldn't imagine anywhere in the world they would rather be than sitting at a huge table of nasty criminals with billion dollar bank accounts.

"Mary. Nice to see you again. Where have you been."

"Been in Washington working on my doctor thesis."

"Political Science, wasn't it."

Sally smiled to show Don Juan she was charmed that he remembered. He kissed her cheek and moved on to the next girl. When he was satisfied that he knew everyone, everyone took his or her seats for the feast.

The girls listened intently to whatever whoever said to them and Don Juan smiled all through the evening. Sally and Caprice paid particular attention and showed great interest in the stories they were told.

They were free to wander around if they needed a bathroom break or a few minutes from the party that had concentrated around the large swimming pool. While most of the men and escorts were enjoying a lazy swim in the pool, a glass of champagne of the finest quality and a line or several of very high quality cocaine, Sally disappeared for a few minutes to start up Don Juan's computer, Billy had found a password he had used in his other online transactions. It was always the same. She took a deep breath and typed in the password. And it worked. She breathed out and made a copy of all the files onto a USB stick that was part of her necklace. It was the fastest USB there was and it still took six minutes before she could shut down the computer and leave out the window, climb down to the ground and assume a wandering pace through the well manicured garden and place herself in a lounge chair next to Ryon Servio who was watching Caprice walk to the edge of the pool in her string bikini. Sally watched her as well.

"You don't want to swim."

"Not right now."

"Do you want another line."

"I would love to."

"Another glass of champagne."

"That would be great."

"I don't remember seeing you at Don Juan's party before."

"I was away in Washington studying for the last few years."

Sally also accepted a cigarette offered from Ryon Servio. She was a little surprised that she enjoyed it so much after the cocaine. She sat for quite a while beside Ryon Servio answering his questions and offered a few of her own. Sally smiled at Ryon Servio even when his hand sometimes lay on her leg. She smiled and thought, Scumbag, you will be dead tomorrow at three.

Ryon Servio had a lunch date with a client outside of Caracas and up in the mountain. In the jungle. Natives made a drink not recommended for foreigners. The story was, they chewed various fruits, spit them back in a barrel and let the stuff ferment. The danger was that it was far too easy to drink. The alcohol content was high. The adventurous tourist that bought a bottle usually didn't get out of bed the next day. The day after they would be fine. Then they would have a story.

Ryon had been drinking the stuff for a week and was aware how much he could handle. He ordered a bottle and two glasses.

Sally and Caprice kept out of sight while they waited for Ryon's dinner date. Ryon was well known in his circles of business. He had always been loyal to whatever were the rules implied by big business. As far as Billy could figure. The meeting might have been a break from that. He had been talking to Cubans and Russians. He didn't know anyone knew this but he knew it was dangerous business to change business partners at such large scale. So he traveled with two well-armed bodyguards. But even this business deal, Billy had told Sally, might not be the reason for the hit. Billy was still working on the reason. Not specifically for any one target. He wanted his coding to figure it out.

Caprice and Sally slipped into the hut unnoticed and masked. The husband and wife didn't see or hear them; they were sound asleep from the chloroform soaked into the clean rags that were held over their faces. Not the nicest stuff to inhale but better than having to die.

Sally did the same thing to the driver. He was already sleeping up against a tree and might wonder why he had slept so long when he finally awoke.

The two private security force bodyguards were included on the assignment. Collateral damage. Sally and Caprice waited a while for them to separate. When one announced he was going for a piss and the other lit up a cigarette, Sally and Caprice moved instinctively. Caprice snuck up behind the guard smoking a cigarette, sliced his neck and took his gun. Sally snuck up behind the guard taking a piss, sliced his neck and took his gun.

The two men sitting at their old wooden table still hadn't noticed any change. There were enough noises in the jungle to listen to.

Eventually, Ryon wondered why he hadn't seen either of his guards walk by. He wasn't paying them to stay out of sight. He stood up to look around. He saw his driver sleeping against a tree.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Servio."

"I don't know."

He reached for his gun and took a few steps from the table.

"Rolf. Bruce."

No answer. What the fuck was his driver's name. Then he felt the barrel of a gun pressed really hard into the back of his neck.

"Shoot your friend."

"What."

"Shoot your friend."

He didn't have any friends but he saw Boris Burnski reaching for his gun to point his direction. So he shot him.

"Drop it."

He dropped his gun.

Sally had a gun to the back of Boris Burnski's head and repeated the order Caprice had given. He had a pretty big hole in his belly and was a little slow to lift the gun. Enough time for Caprice to move behind a tree. He shot twice. The first shot ripped through Ryon's leg. The second ripped through his liver.

Sally and Caprice collected everyone's smartdevices and the keys from the Jeep.

Boris and Ryon both had a while to live but even if they could call for a helicopter there was nowhere to land it. The road back to Caracas was too far even if the road was really a road and not a trail pretending it would like to be a road.

"Fuck it."

Ryon crawled the short distance to his gun and picked it up. Boris knew by the fuck it that Ryon was going to shot him. So he shot at Ryon, missing three times before Ryon shot him four times.

"Asshole."

Ryon managed over the next hour to crawl to the Jeep. After another quarter of an hour he managed to pull the door open and crawl into the driver seat. He wasn't surprised to find no keys in the ignition. He didn't care. He knew it was over. He turned the radio on and listened to a jazz station before slipping off into unconsciousness. From whence he would not return.

The crime scene was confusing. The two men appeared to have killed each other over a dispute but there was the problem of the two dead bodyguards and the three witnesses that hadn't witnessed anything. It didn't add up.

Ryon Servio was famous among the rich and famous. He owned a hotel in Miami and a casino in Atlantic City. He was constantly in contact with many people, even the scavengers at FKZ tracked him down any time he went to Hollywood to consume copious amounts of really nice cocaine and party with the social butterflies there. All his friends liked his cocaine.

Boris Burnski wasn't a big name among the in scene of the American high life. He was one of those rich carpetbaggers that had taken advantage of Russia thinking it could be saved by Capitalism.

Caprice and Sally were sitting at the poolside of the Caraballeda Caribe Club after appearing to have come back from an afternoon on the beach. News hadn't reached the news yet. The killing of a couple of people was so common in Caracas that even when it did get to the news, most people would take little notice. No one had taken notice of Caprice and Sally as they rode over the ill managed dirt highway on a 125 Honda. It was a common enough event.

Sally was wondering about Caprice as they watched the surface of the water above them. Hanging out and being friends and assassins was a great way to live. Thrilling. She missed Billy and the professor a bit. She wanted to ask Billy something every few minutes. He wasn't there. He could be there virtually easy enough. She watched a few bubbles rising to the surface. Focus girl.

Caprice tapped her on the shoulder. It was time. They hung their air tanks from a rope they had tied around the rudder and surfaced. They could see the lights from Margareta Island.

They knew there would be prostitutes on the yacht so they had sleeping drugs for them. The two men were inebriated enough that it was hardly necessary to be as quiet as they were; it was just the way they had been trained to work.

The two men also got shots. Not to make them sleep. To make them awake but with their muscles relaxed.

"Who the fuck are you."

"I'm Mary Poppins."

"What the fuck did you do to my whores."

"They are fine. Now come along. We are going for a swim."

"Get the fuck off my boat."

Caprice and Sally helped the man onto the deck.

"He doesn't smell very good."

"Fuck you."

"Something is rotting in there."

"I can't make a face of his face."

"It's him."

They pushed him over the side and went to get the other man. He was still far too drunk to get out more than a mumble on his way to the deck. Caprice had a good look at him, nodded, and pushed him into the water. His friend, or better-said, business associate, tried to get him to the surface but it was enough trouble to keep on it alone. Especially when cursing half your air away.

Sally lifted the anchor and jumped overboard to put on her air tank and prepare for leaving. Caprice started the engine. As soon as the boat was in motion she left off the back of the boat to join Sally.

The boat was moving very slowly but fast enough that by morning it would be well out of sight of Margareta Island. With the help of their electronic swimmers, Sally and Caprice were sitting on their deck at the Ikin Margarita Hotel drinking tea and watching the stars. They didn't talk about what they had done. No high fives or good job. Concentrate on enjoying the sky and the things under it. Life was brutal and short.

In the next week their assignment was to play the role of two women enjoying the luxury of a small villa.

"I think today I will buy a hat."

"What kind of a hat."

"Maybe a straw hat."

"I'll get one as well."

"Then we can go to lunch."

"Yes. And I know what I'm going to order for an appetizer."

Caprice looked at Sally and waited.

"Those fishy things that are soaked in lime juice."

Caprice smiled, leaned over and kissed Sally.

"But first, I need a little sleep."

"In the future, when the human race is no longer paranoid and in constant violent competition, the NSA will be an important data bank and search engine. You will be able to search a date with keywords to a conversation you had on the telephone and be able to retrieve that conversation. If you made a date with a friend and forgot to write down what time, or what restaurant, you can find out what was in an e-mail you mistakenly deleted with the spam."

"I don't think it's so much a future thing."

"Oh. Did I miss something."

"You can send recorded messages for free. Many do."

"Oh. So NSA is pointless."

Caprice propped up on her elbow and looked at Sally. She didn't even know her name was Sally. She was in the habit of calling her Mary as long as she was in Venezuela but remembered her as Angela.

"I recognize your looks, sometimes even your movements, your smells, your voice, your eyes have the same brilliant colour but they see differently. Your friendship feels genuine but your perspective on the world is so different. Your mind isn't the Angela I knew. It isn't easy to believe."

"You and Billy. The other way for Billy. He stares at me sometime not knowing who he is looking at until I move or say something. I still get the same thing sometimes when I surprise myself in a mirror."

"Must be weird being you."

"It's wild. Not quite used to seeing me in this body but I am getting used to having Angela's body. I really love it."

Caprice laughed.

"Me too."

"I waited months in a coma with not much of my body. Mostly dead. But enough inside was alive to live on machines. Angela was the first relatively healthy body that had the right blood type and sex. It was a little older than me but it was fit enough. They made me into this fit and beautiful woman. My body was not so pretty. It was never going to grow up to be half this pretty. I was just starting to grow my tits and almost look like a girl. Then I woke up with these. Holy fuck."

Caprice laughed and had a look at Sally's assets.

Sally told Caprice a little more about growing up in the projects in Detroit with Billy as her only real friend. They had many adventures together. Some of them a little mean toward people who were mean to them. They had stolen cars just to smash them into store windows or drive them into the river.

"I asked Billy to steal me a car, like I often did. It was a game we played. He was usually test driver. We were racing though the streets and alleys with a beautiful old English convertible. Top off. We usually didn't go far before we left the car somewhere, like in a swimming pool or a duck pond. But this was a nice car. Billy wanted to see what it could do. I rolled a perfect joint with the weed we found in the glove box. We had the music load. The first song on the player was New Moon Rising. I remember that. I don't remember the accident. My last memory was the bright red sport's car that was ours for the night, Billy driving like an idiot, playing air guitar and scratching parked cars as he swerved around. Billy says he remembers looking at me smiling at him before he woke up in the clinic. With his updated and amended body. And me with Angela's."

"Bloody hell."

"We got smeared by a big truck. The company rebuilt us. Updated us to premium editions while they were at it."

"Fuck me."

Artemis helped her grandmother get ready for bed then read a few pages from the Psalms until she fell asleep. Artemis wasn't tired. She had an idea for a little story so she went up to her grandfather's little library and sharpened a pencil and started writing.

The Boy Who Held a Grudge

Little Luke was only little because he was born that way. His mother had been born little and mostly stayed that way. Papa was a little bigger but he was seldom home. He was off in the fields working. He had to provide for Luke and his mama.

Little Luke was hit by his Papa sometimes when Papa didn't like what Luke had done. He slapped him on the ass. Little Luke didn't like it. Why did Papa need to hit him. So Luke held a grudge. And because he held a grudge, he couldn't give his Papa love. Papa was sad; he didn't like it that Luke was mad, so he went away and stayed that way.

Little Luke made a friend one day. He lived down the lane. They got together to play by the stream. They built dams. They made little boats by whittling them from sticks. They had mountains of fun. But one day Luke's friend got mad at him for sending one of his boats down the stream and holding onto his foot so he couldn't chase it. And he hit Luke.

Luke didn't like it and he told his friend he hated him. Luke held a grudge. Now he had two grudges to take care of.

By the time he was grown up he had confrontations with many people and always held a grudge. He had so many grudges that he had to buy a farm and work all the time to pay for it. He didn't like that and had another grudge. He had himself a farm full of grudges and they were insatiable. Little Luke spent all his time with his grudges. It was starting to look like the only thing Little Luke would ever have time for in all his years to come was to look after his grudges.

Although he didn't know the word epiphany, he had one and was quite surprised by it. He saw that his grudges were wild creatures that didn't like living in captivity. And they were no good to him. He thought they were his but really he couldn't remember where the most of them came from. They just moaned and groaned and wanted more to eat. Little Luke smashed a hole in the fence and told the grudges to go. And they did. Some ran off faster than stampeding elephants, something Little Luke had never seen and hadn't even heard of. A few grudges rubbed up against his leg like a cat might before trotting off. A few even sprouted wings like butterflies and flew away. That really surprised Little Luke because why didn't they do that and just fly over the fence before. He almost knew the answer to his own question but he just watched them all go.

Little Luke figured he could get goats and chickens. Maybe plant some apple trees. But first he decided to go find his mom and dad.

They were where he had left them all those years ago.

He brought a 12 pack of doughnuts and asked if it was okay to come for a visit.

And as luck would finally have it, they killed a fatted turkey and called the neighbours in for a little feast.

Artemis laughed. She wasn't so good with stories but she liked it. What she would really like was a friend. Grandfather had been her best friend until he went out one time and never came back. She had guessed he finally went to rob the Vatican but at his age he wasn't the thief he used to be. And Grandmother was a good friend. A little boring but a good listener and always telling Artemis she loved her and was so glad that she had come to stay. But Grandmother was getting scatterbrained.

"So, Sally. Are you sure we are going to do this. This thing is not company approved."

"Billy checked their backgrounds and says they fall within the boarders of collateral damage."

Caprice laughed.

Sally laughed.

"But he doesn't think it's a good idea."

"He doesn't see any good math in it. He figures things out with model probabilities and whatever he's doing. He wants us to at least keep the numbers down. Make a shocking show and minimize the dead."

"I'm okay with that. Are we still doing it."

"I can explain our reasoning to still do it."

"I'm listening."

Sally smiled.

"Priests have been cursing us since before written history. Their first religions were random reference base on stargazing and malnutrition. They decided gods were blessing or cursing them every time something happened. The sun god, the moon god, the tree god, the rain god, the fish god and everything was some kind of magic and the priests knew how it worked. And they could influence the world by appeasing the gods. Sacrifice a virgin or a goat to grow the grain. Most everything the ignorant priests proclaimed was delusional madness. Often a greedy opportunistic madness. They had the power and the wealth. And this is not something we have outgrown. They still abuse the power of the afterlife justification for the propagation of their death cult."

"Are you done."

"I can go on."

"It sounded like I was about to learn something."

"Billy helped me on this. But I think he's right. There is likely no other way to go from reactionary, limited verbal creatures, to beginner cognizant with language without a little superstition. System overload. We suddenly wanted to know why. There were these causes and effects and no one knew what was going on. So the priests said they knew. They lied. We could have gotten over our primal fears with understanding, had superstition not been institutionalized into dictatorship religions. Our superstitions and fears have been high jacked. The priests take their power based on a lie that they know is a lie. How many virgins have had their hearts ripped out and held to the sun. How many have been sex slaves to the priests and warlords.

"The priests are the CEOs of a business of lies, murder, war, poverty, ignorance and mindocide. They still attack science and medicine. They still want to claim that the book is God's word. They have enslaved our minds for generations. The priests profit from ignorance. The priests are a blatant marketing business for the eternal business of war.

"Belief, though inevitable for a creature on the cusp of consciousness, is no longer acceptable for a creature that can think. You cannot go the course of technology, science and medicine while fostering delusional fairytale god figures that ordain madmen in the glorification of death. Fuck that shit.

"Is that a good enough reason to do what we intend to do."

"I don't know if everything you said can be backed up with evidence. But you had me going. I'm a bit wet."

Sally laughed.

"I don't like their institution. I think it will send a message."

"Oh, that it will."

"So we're doing it."

"Like it already happened."

A large tent had been erected on the south coast of Aruba in the back yard of one of the most elegant hotels on the island. Security was at a minimum. They were just visiting priests. Security was to assure privacy.

There was much press during the day, many photos taken of the men in their pretty dresses. They visited the Catholic churches and talked to the local press. They had a big lunch one afternoon for school children. They visited an old folk's home and a hospital.

And they talked among themselves in their tent on the beach in the evenings. Drinking a great deal of blood they drained from Jesus.

Caprice and Sally stole a one-engine plane, a bit of a junker, and flew it along the coast then north toward Aruba. They set the direction for the Atlantic before jumping out of the plane. It continued for hours before running out of fuel and crashing into the ocean unseen by anyone other than a couple of drug runners with a speedboat full of cocaine.

"Did you see that."

"Should we call it in."

It was a joke. They would not call it in. And they didn't bother to check for survivors. Was that cold of them. Maybe. But they had business to attend to. And plane crashes seldom had survivors.

The cocaine was headed for Florida.

Sally and Caprice fell like angels of death from the sky. Dressed in black with black parachutes as wings. They had guns and bullets in their waterproof packs in case of an emergency. Throwing knives and throwing stars were their weapons for the event.

Sally had made the throwing stars in a metal shop. Took nails, filed them on the grinder. Then welded them together. They were pretty rough but throwing stars weren't the kind of thing easily purchased at a local hardware store.

The throwing knives and stars were mostly for show. The stars were light and would poke a few small holes. A throwing knife might cause a more serious wound. It might look like a protest from some conspiracy whack jobs. The amonochlorozic bacterial coating on the knives and stars would not kill a young person or a healthy older person. Under a a stress situation and a high alcohol percentage in the blood could cause a heart attack.

They incapacitated six guards and gave them all a tranquilizer. Sally and Caprice were rough as a courtesy to the guards. They didn't see it coming. There were so many of them. I thought I would die. They looked like aliens. Or Moslem extremists.

Sally and Caprice threw phosphorous water bombs on the back of the tent to encourage the priests to come running out the front of the tent. The phosphorous took a few seconds to discover air. When it did and priests started running out the opposite direction, Sally and Caprice were standing in the darkness throwing knives and stars.

The first escaping priest received a star in his forehead. He looked around in a panic. He had a little blood running down his face and spikes stuck in his forehead. He gasped and screamed before he got pushed over by the fleeing priests behind him.

Some of the priests, with knives or stars sticking in them, tried to get back into the tent and pushed against those coming out. The tent, however, was burning like the Hindenburg balloon. A few priests were on fire attempting to strip off their elegant robes while running and avoiding whatever it was that was causing the panic outside the tent. Sally and Caprice offloaded their throwing weapons in a minute and though they were tempted to stay and watch a little, their training wouldn't allow it. They were gone before they even thought about leaving.

They stole a fishing boat. They were out in open water before the local police arrived at the priest's event. The police were so busy dealing with the panicking holy men that they took a while to understand it was a crime seen. Not just a burning tent. The tent burnt quickly. It was thin and gone shortly after it started to burn. That was a lucky thing for the priests. God had at least protected them from the fires of hell. If not the weapons of Vulcan.

"Caprice, my name is Sally, and I'm going back to Washington."

"Sally."

"That's my mother given name."

"I like it. It's cute like you."

"Are you coming with me."

"Like I was already there."

*******
