Five Hertz of Separation

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

It was easier to talk after Pegues left the room.

“Tell me, Lee. What’s it like being a boy?”

“It’s so strange, Mother. I’m stronger and faster and louder. People pay attention to me.”

“Tell me about it. What do you think about wearing pants?”

“It’s summer. A dress would be cooler but Mr. Pegues wouldn’t allow it.”

Thank you, Miran.

“He’s right about that, Lee. Your father, on the other hand …”

“Do not be foolish, Alexia.”

“Awwww come on, Johnathyn. I’m sure you’ve got the legs for it. Don’t you think your father is beautiful, Leeanna?”

She giggled despite the look Johnathyn gave her.

“Yes, Mother, she’s very beautiful. You’re quite handsome too.”

“Well thanks, Leeanna. I’ve always thought you had good taste. Maybe we can find the time to go dress shopping for your father while you’re here.”

“Do not bother,” he grumbled. “We will not be here that long. We need to return home as quickly as possible.”

“You are coming with us, aren’t you, Mother?”

What do I say? How can I leave them again? “I’ll need to talk about that with your father.”

“Please, Mother! You must return with us! We all need you so badly. I need you!”

Damn Pegues! He shouldn’t have involved them. He knew exactly what he was doing and he knew that I’d see right through it and that it wouldn’t matter one iota that I knew it. He’s a conniving bastard!

“Leeanna, there is a lot to consider. Yes, I want to come home with you and your father …”

“Then just do it, Mother! What else matters?”

“Leeanna, it’s late. We’ll talk about it in the morning. Mrs. LaRouche said that you could use the apartment next to this one and …”

“NO! I don’t want to leave you! Not after we just found you after all this time!”

So much for a little alone time between me and Johnathyn.

“We’ll just be across the hall, Lee. I’ll even leave the doors unlocked. You can come over if …”

“No. Please, Mother.”

He’s right. He is louder as a boy. Johnathyn steps in.

“Perhaps, for tonight, we all sleep in this room,” he suggests.

“Where? On the couch and the chair?”

“No, on the floor. We did it for months in the wagon. We bring in some bedding and it will be just like old times but not so cold.”

I think Johnathyn is worried about being alone with me, what with the roles being reversed. I bet he’s concerned about what I may insist on doing with him. To be honest, it’s been on my mind ever since we found each other in the Park. He is beautiful, in a female super hero kind of way. In the right outfit, he’d be the hit of Comic Con.

I can remember how nervous I was when I first entered that world, how long it took me to accept what I was and how much longer it took for me to embrace it. Johnathyn isn’t ready for that. I’ll give him this one.

“Alright. I’ll go see what I can find and we can make camp out here tonight but neither of you better snore now.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Thank Zaphod Alexia agreed to my suggestion. I have been both anticipating and dreading seeing her since crossing over to this world.

I knew exactly what would happen. Alexia had been quite clear about it when we first met, as had been Pegues, both back then and when he had approached me weeks ago about trying to get Alexia to return. I had been the greatest supporter of the plan. No, Leeanna had been the greatest supporter but I was right in line after her.

I reasoned that I could handle the change. If Pegues could do it, I certainly could also. Alexia had a great deal of difficulty at first but she had been surprised, unprepared. I also knew that it was for a short time, until we found Alexia and persuaded her to return with us or we failed in our quest. I thought for certain that I was both logically and emotionally prepared to become a woman.

The moment I stood up after landing on the ground in this world, I realized how wrong I was. Everything I knew was turned upside down. Leeanna was running around, celebrating the first step of our big plan and I was rooted in place, terrified. If she had not been here, I would have demanded that Pegues return me immediately to my world and proceed without me. I could not face this new, challenging world as a weak woman.

Pegues sensed my reluctance and did what she could to encourage me however; it was Leeanna’s enthusiasm that drove me forward. How could I tell her that her father was unwilling to face what she did every day of her life, that being a woman was intolerable to me? I concentrated on attempting to locate Alexia. Then it occurred to me that should we succeed and find Alexia, she may wish to greet me as a husband does his wife. The thought of doing that to her had greatly brightened my days before crossing over but the realization quickly struck me once completing the journey that I would now be the one receiving and not giving. The thought horrified me yet I still longed to see my wife again. It was all so confusing.

Leeanna was not burdened with my conflicting emotions. She was focused on only one thing, finding her mother. It was all that I and Pegues could do to keep her from spending every moment in that search. He managed to distract her occasionally by showing her the wonders of this world. I must admit that I too was able to forget my fears several times for a few hours when we visited what she called an “Airport” to watch these simply enormous machines take flight or when we traveled under the ground riding the “Subway,” though I attracted a great deal of unwanted attention while riding on that machine. Pegues seemed to enjoy my discomfort, assuring me that my current appearance was pleasing to the eye. I would have chastised him if we were not effectively at his mercy.

This continued for almost two weeks until I was approached by a particularly handsome man while watching Leeanna play with some other children. We had visited this particular spot several times since arriving in New York in an attempt to use up some of Leeanna’s newly found energy, the abundance of which was driving both myself and Pegues to distraction. While normally the attentions of a man would have been cause for me to withdraw or possibly strike out if he was sufficiently persistent, this time, a feeling of calm came over me, of peace, of contentment. It was wholly different than any feeling I had experienced since coming to this world, since Alexia and I had been forced to separate. The joy of discovering each other overwhelmed all other feelings until I found myself alone with Alexia and Leeanna as the end of the day rapidly approached, at which time all the fears of what Alexia might expect me to do came flooding back. I knew that with Leeanna present, nothing serious could happen between us so I proposed that we all sleep together as we did before in our travels. I was ever so thankful when Alexia agreed, though it was clear she was reluctant to do so.

I am momentarily confused when I wake up in the dead of night. I can hear the mechanical hum of a machine called an “Air Conditioner.” Apparently, most buildings in the city have one, though you cannot often see or hear it but you can certainly feel it when you walk into a cold building from a hot stone street outside. Some of the buildings are so cold inside that I get goose bumps in addition to a particularly confusing feeling of firmness of the nipples on my chest. Tonight, I see that Alexia is no longer lying with us but there is a light on in her bedroom. I am curious as to what she is doing up at this time of night and am drawn towards finding out. Carefully rising so as to not wake Leeanna, I quietly sneak over to the partially open door, my path lit by the subdued light reflecting off the walls around me.

As I peek around the door, I see Alexia seated at a small desk, her back towards me, looking at the screen of a kom-pu-ter larger than the one she had in my world. She appears to be reading something. I silently slip into the room, step up behind her and drop my right hand lightly upon her shoulder. She doesn’t flinch in surprise, instead gently taking my hand in hers. She pulls it forward and up to her lips, tenderly kissing the back of my hand, sending chills down my spine.

“These rings really work,” she whispers. “I could feel you enter the room behind me.”

I could see the thin gold chain at the back of her neck. I knew that I was wearing mine; having done so since the day we were separated.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?”

“Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep. Knowing that the beautiful woman who is my heart’s desire was only inches from me yet I could do nothing, I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight so I waited until you were both asleep and then I got up to get some work done.”

Surprisingly, I was not repulsed by Alexia referring to me as a beautiful woman or her heart’s desire. Instead, I felt a small amount of pride.

“I’m sorry … my love. I did not intend to keep you awake.”

“I know,” she chortles. “The shoe’s on the other foot.”

“Neither of us is wearing shoes, Alexia.”

“I know. It’s just a saying. Each of us now understands what the other was feeling. I know how you felt when you looked at me sitting next to you in the wagon when we were traveling to Glory and you know what it’s like to be desired as a woman by a man who knows deep down that you’re a man and aren’t prepared to play the role of a woman now. Or maybe never.”

“Yet we love each other.”

“Well, that didn’t come until later for us.”

“Not for me. I think I loved you almost immediately.”

“You wanted to fuck me almost immediately. Love came later. I know the difference now. So do you.”

“Did you …” I am hesitant to ask.

“Oh yeah! Absolutely. You had that cool, calm goddess thing going for you, standing apart from all the other parents. You know, there hasn’t been anybody else since I came back to this universe”

I could feel the truth in her voice. “Nor I. It did not feel right.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

I lean down to look over her shoulder, my left cheek brushing against the side of her head. “Have you discovered anything?”

“I don’t know if you inspired me or what but I’ve got it all, everything I need to bring down the Consortium and the Winthrop Group. It’s all here.”

“Alexia! You did it! Well done!”

“I haven’t done anything yet. We need to talk about that. Have a seat.”

She points at her bed. I sit down on the edge as she turns her chair to face me. I notice her staring intently at my naked thighs. I had borrowed a shirt to wear as night clothes but it was shorter than I liked. I tug at the hem but it does not cover much. She notices my efforts at modesty and turns her eyes towards mine.

“Sorry,” she says. “Force of habit. Are things really as bad at home as Pegues says?”

“I am afraid so. Our worst fears have come true. It was a noble effort but we all failed your vision.”

“It wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I should have known better. An individual person can be great but people, as a group, tend to be stupid, ignorant, short sighted and selfish.”

“Is not that too harsh?”

“Not really. It takes leadership to keep people moving forward. I should have been the one to do that.”

“But there were risks if you stayed. We all agreed.”

“There were also risks if I left. Look what happened. It was also easier for me to leave.”

“What do you mean?”

She reaches out, taking my hands in hers. “I’m going to admit something to you, something you may have a better understanding of now. I was afraid to stay. Afraid of taking responsibility for an entire world. I was also afraid of spending the rest of my life as a woman. I mean, I’m a man. Until I jumped over to your world, it never entered my mind to be anything but a man. And then I met you and Leeanna and, suddenly there were choices to be made, choices that affected other people. I know what I wanted but they were conflicting things. I wasn’t certain about my own capabilities. I ended up choosing the known over the unknown. Yes, I still had a job to do here. People to punish, but that was a convenient excuse. I couldn’t even admit this to myself until now. Do you understand what I’m talking about, Johnathyn?”

I did. The fear of losing what you are. I did not understand what Alexia was experiencing in my world until I came to hers. It is frightening.

“I do understand about possibly losing yourself. I feel it myself right now.”

“I thought you might. Hard to avoid under the circumstances. Lee seems immune.”

“It’s all just a big adventure to her, though she does want you back.”

“And I want her back. And you, my love.”

“You have decided?!”

“Yes, we’re going home. What we need to discuss is what kind of home that’s going to be.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“What now, White?”

The police evidence storage had just confirmed that there were no DNA samples from either Terry or Jackie Thompson. None were ever taken. Their identities weren’t in question so samples of their DNA were unnecessary. Very unfortunate. Ridgeway seems to be enjoying my frustration, however the front steps of police headquarters in New York City is a bad place for a confrontation on that point.

“If the police can’t help us, Captain, we’ll need to go directly to the source.”

“And how exactly do you propose to do that?”

“Frankly, I’m unsure. An exhumation would take time and money, plus involve lawyers.”

“Never a good thing.”

“No, I agree. They just gum up the works. We could try to bribe someone at the cemetery to do it on the QT but that too would take time to find the right person and should we ask the wrong person, we could find ourselves facing some very uncomfortable questions.”

“We don’t actually need the bodies, just samples from the bodies and not much of a sample either, right?”

“I think your correct, Captain. Do you have something in mind?”

“Maybe, it depends on the layout of the cemetery. There were a few Civil Engineering classes mixed in with my Mechanical Engineering class load. I also spent a couple of summers on a highway construction crew in Pennsylvania. We ‘girls’ weren’t supposed to do much more than traffic control but the supervisor was a little more broadminded than most so I got to see and do a lot of jobs.”

“You mean like operating a backhoe?”

“No. Taking soil samples. Drilling into the ground soil samples.”

“What are you suggesting, Captain?”

“If I can get my hands on the right equipment, we can drill straight down into the caskets from above and get what we need in a matter of minutes with no one being the wiser.”

“Where can we get that equipment?”

“If we’re lucky, I can rent it, if not, you’ll have to buy it. Either way, it’ll be a lot easier than digging up a couple of graves.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Mistress LaRouche had allowed me to use one of her empty apartments for the night. I thought that Leeanna was going to use the second apartment and Alex and Johanna were going to share his apartment but those plans changed. I assume Alex was frustrated by that change. When I knock on his door, Leeanna answers it almost immediately.

“Good morning, Mirantha,” she exclaims brightly.

“Good morning, Lee. Are your parents awake?”

“Yes. Mother is preparing breakfast. Please come in.”

I enter and cross the room towards the kitchen. There is a pile of bedding folded and neatly stacked on the chair in the living room. Alex has his back to me while cooking on the stove. Johnathyn is slumped forward in her chair, elbows resting on the table while she cradles a large cup of coffee in her hands, occasionally sipping from it. Coffee is one of the creations of this world that I introduced her to. She looks as if she did not get much sleep last night. Perhaps Alex was more successful than I thought.

“Good morning, Johnathyn. Alex. Did you all sleep well?”

“Well enough, Pegues,” Johnathyn grumbles.

“Pour yourself a cup of Joe, Mirantha, and grab a seat,” adds Alex. “How do you like your eggs?”

I do so and take a quick drink from my steaming cup. “Absent. The ‘Joe,’ as you call it, will be enough.”

“Suit yourself. We’ve got a lot to get done in the next few days. We may be looking at fast food meals until we leave.”

“Can I have ‘McRibs’?” Lee begs.

“We’ll see,” says Alex. “You’ll need some vegetables too.”

“A potato is a vegetable, mother.”

“Fries are not a vegetable, Lee. Eat your eggs and drink some orange juice.”

He casually mentioned leaving. Has he made his decision? Do I want to know it?

“Uhhhh Alex. Very good coffee, by the way.”

“Thanks. High praise from the Master.”

“Yes … You said something about leaving?”

“Yep, I did. We’re all going home. At least most of us are. You were right, Pegues. I broke it so I bought it. I’m going home to fix it as soon as I take care of a few people here first and that should only require a day or so.”

“We need to discuss what you will do when you return to my world.”

“You mean my world, Pegues. Johnathyn and I have already discussed it. We’ve got a plan. It should work.”

“As well as your last plan?”

“You’ve got every right to criticize me, Pegues, but if there’s one thing that can be said about me, it’s that I learn from my mistakes.”

“Then you must be a very learned man by now.”

“I am. Did you know that the country where we are standing right now is governed by a constitution?”

“Yes, I am vaguely aware of that.”

“Most of the people in this country revere the men who drafted that constitution. They are called the Founding Fathers and treated as if they were darn near infallible.”

“What is your point, Alex?”

“My point is that these very same men, or at least most of them, were involved in the creation of something called ‘The Articles of Confederation’ which is how the country was run before the Constitution was drafted. It was a disaster. These learned, infallible men screwed it up big time the first attempt they made to create a governing system. They learned from their mistakes and created a better system the second time around. It wasn’t perfect either. They totally punted on slavery and that came round to eventually bite the country in the ass. Maybe it was inevitable. Either way, no one’s perfect, Pegues. My world demands a dominant Queen, it’s gonna get a dominant Queen. The Queen I should have been from day one. Some tried to tell me that but I wouldn’t listen. I’ll listen this time but it will eventually be my decision and mine alone.”

“If you wish to listen and learn, then listen to me now, Alex.”

“I’ll listen, Pegues. So will you because I’ve got a job in mind that you are uniquely qualified for.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!” the guy screams.

I saw him approaching from yards away. I pointed him out to Ridgeway. She nodded her head in acknowledgement but kept drilling. We weren’t lucky about renting the equipment she needed and ended up driving halfway across New Jersey before finding the portable backpack drill and accessories needed to do the job. It was designed for boring through rocks so the ground of the cemetery was very easy to deal with. We had dressed in workmen’s coveralls and started early in the morning and had almost reached our target when the maintenance man caught up with us.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING WITH THAT THING?” he shouts over the din of the gasoline motor, getting up in Ridgeway’s face. She casually stops drilling, killing the engine and deliberately removes her foam earplugs.

“We’re taking lower strata stability samples.”

“Why in God’s name are you doing that?!” he demands.

Ridgeway jerks her thumb towards the road that borders the back edge of the cemetery. There’s a wrought iron fence between the road and the last line of graves, the line that contains the final resting places of Terry and Jackie Thompson.

“The city’s looking to build a new sewer line along the utility easement that runs with that road over there.”

“You can’t put a sewer in here, it’s a cemetery!”

“We know that! We’re not idiots! The sewer’s gonna be on the outside but they’ll have to dig close to the property line. We’re taking core samples to check the lateral stability of various strata to make sure the adjoining property doesn’t collapse into the dig. If there’s insufficient lateral stability, we may need to add bracing to the bid requirements which will make the project more expensive. We’re just following those flags the Chief City Surveyor’s office put out late yesterday.”

Ridgeway points to a series of little yellow plastic flags running along the fence line that we had planted late last night by reaching through the fence. Ridgeway said at the time that the flags would add an air of authority to our operation. We just had to make certain each grave was marked with a flag. Our inquisitor looked at the flags and scratched his head.

“I didn’t see no surveyors out there yesterday.”

“You probably missed them. They don’t use all the surveying equipment for a job like this. A couple of guys and a GPS receiver is all you need now. The big stuff shows up later if they decide to use this route.”

“But those two flags are smack dab in the middle of those graves,” he says, pointing directly at our targets.

“Yeah, I saw that. City Surveyors don’t give a damn where they put those flags. Don’t worry, man. We can work around them when we get there. No problem. We’ll be out of here before you know it.”

The man looks relieved. “That’s great. We got a funeral coming in less than an hour.”

Ridgeway makes a show of counting the remaining flags. “We’ll step on it and be done by then. That okay with you?”

“That’d be fucking great!” he says, smiling broadly. Ridgeway fires up the drill, waves at the guy and returns to work with vigor. I give him a little wave as he hurries away, covering his ears.

When we reach the graves, both of us check things out to be certain we aren’t being watched too closely. Ridgeway quickly attaches a 4 foot hollow drill shaft to the gasoline engine powered drill head. The diamond drill was already threaded onto the shaft. I help her set the drill head upright and held the shaft steady with heavily gloved hands as she pulls the starter cord and the engine caught, revving up rapidly. Ridgeway set her feet apart to get a stable base and pushes the drill bit into the soft ground. The shaft plunges down easily. She stops with about a foot remaining above the ground, disconnects the drill head and adds another 4 foot section of shaft to the end sticking out of the ground. After reattaching the drill head and restarting the engine, she continues drilling but more carefully than before. After another two feet, she stops, letting the engine fall back to idle speed.

“I think we’re there,” she says.

“Great! Let’s do this and get the hell out of here.”

“I need to be careful. If, I’m right, once I penetrate the top of the casket, there’ll be a void. The whole damn drill head will drop and probably punch the bit right through the body without getting a sample. This has to be done nice and easy.”

“Whatever,” I say, feeling more exposed than before. “Do it.”

She nods her head and throttles back up. In seconds, the drill head falls a few inches but she catches it, holding the weight of the entire drilling rig in her hands.

“We’re in,” she grunts.

“Hurry up!”

She gives me a strained, annoyed look. “Do you want to do this, White?”

“No, just finish it.”

“What else would I do?” she groans as she re-grips the drill head then slowly allows it to inch downward until she pauses again. “That should be it, I think.”

“That’s all there is to it?”

“It’s a diamond head drill and he’s been dead for almost a year. There’s not going to be a hell of a lot of resistance. Once I’ve punched through the bottom and gone down another foot or so, we can pull the bit up.”

“We’ve got what we need; why not pull it up now?”

“Because whatever is in the core may not stay there. If I put a dirt cap on it, the sample’s locked in.”

“Fine, you seem to know what you’re doing. Finish it and we can leave.”

She accelerates the engine, continuing to drill.

“We’ll have to finish the other holes after getting our samples,” she shouts over the roar.

“Why would we do that?!” I demand, exasperated at the delay.

“We used the flags so we’d have a believable story when we were challenged. No one was going to miss the sound of this drill. If we quit early, someone may start asking questions.” Ridgeway stops the drill, killing the engine. She disconnects the shaft and begins to pull it out of the ground. “Get that clear plastic sample tube ready.” After the first section of the drill shaft is out of the ground, she unscrews it from the second, setting it aside. The second section is yanked out and she takes off the drill head with a large wrench. Grabbing the clear plastic sample tube from my hand, she threads it onto the drill shaft where the drill head was and then pushes a long handled plunger into the back of the drill shaft, forcing the core of dirt out of the shaft and into the sample tube. Once full, Ridgeway removes the tube, caps it and hands it to me, pointing to a thin, dark layer sandwiched between two sections of light brown dirt. “That is Terry Thompson.”

“Are you certain?”

“I’d stake my reputation on it.”

“We’re staking our lives on it.”

“Then I better be right. Take that first shaft and put it back in the hole but don’t drop it.”

I reach for the discarded drill shaft. “Why?”

She begins to reassemble the drilling rig. “We want to eject the extra dirt back into the hole, just in case someone comes looking. That hole is only one inch in diameter. Put the dirt back, fluff up the grass a bit and wait a couple of weeks and you’d never know we were here.” She hands me the plunger.

“You want me to do it?”

She smiles at me as she positions the drill rig in the middle of Jackie Thompson’s grave.

“You’re the one who was in such a big hurry. Drop that core in the sample bag with the rest. Label it before you do. We don’t want to mix these with the others.”

Does she take me for a fool?

CHAPTER FORTY TWO

It’s in the hands of the private lab now. I didn’t want to wait for the Consortium’s lab to do the work. The way they treat me is abominable! Besides, what’s another hit on an impressively overspent expense account?

We were assured that Ridgeway’s samples did indeed contain biological matter. They, along with the DNA samples I had retrieved from Mastiff’s discarded magic props, were large enough to provide sufficient material to determine if all three were related. Unfortunately, results would not be available for 24 hours. There is a meeting of the Board of Directors scheduled for tomorrow in the early afternoon. If the results confirm what I suspect, I should be able to get the information to Stewart Hinkle in time to get added to the agenda.

As it is, we’ve now got time to kill, which is how we find ourselves standing with an impressive sized crowd waiting for Lance Mastiff to begin his lunch time show. The publicity he got from the video shot by that news crew has certainly increased attendance. There must be close to 800 people here. I recognize some of the regulars near his tables but there are many new faces.

“Why are we here, White?” Ridgeway inquires.

“I want to keep an eye on Mastiff until we’re ready. If we had your people involved, he’d be under 24 hour surveillance but you and I can’t do that. We’ll just have to take our chances until we can convince our respective employers that he’s a threat. At least we know where he’s going to be for the next hour or so.”

“He can’t do a whole hell of a lot with all these people watching him. Damn! Think of the money he’s been making doing this act five times a week. Works five hours a week, free to do what he pleases the rest of the time.”

“The question is, what does please him? Quiet, he’s starting.”

I need to give him credit, he has certainly gotten better performing the standard magic tricks over the past months. He’s added little tweaks that make them seem like his own invention. He also mixes up the sequence so that you’re never certain what happens next, always a good way to keep the act fresh.

One thing that has definitely happened is he has reduced the number of classic tricks and increased the number of unexplainable tricks. My father’s old comrades would be having heart attacks right now if they could see it. Most of the crowd is impressed but it takes a true professional to understand the absolute impossibility of what he does with those store bought Coke cans, or the interlocking ring set. Every time I see his act, it still amazes me.

Mastiff’s approaching the end of his time but is still firing off one trick after another, the crowd showering him with applause.

He waives them silent, then speaks. “I’ve been told recently by a long term fan that my beard makes me look evil.” He grins manically. “Is that true?”

There’s a chorus of boos mixed with cheers. It’s impossible to know what the crowd wants but it doesn’t matter, Mastiff has already decided.

‘I know, it’s ridiculous, but I promised the sweet young thing that I’d consider working sans facial hair so I’ve decided today is the day.”

He reaches into the pocket of his suit coat and produces a can of shaving cream and a straight razor, which he flips open to the gasps of the audience. It takes my breath away a little bit. The razor is bright, shiny chrome and at least seven inches long! He holds up a section of newspaper and quickly reduces it to ribbons with a few flicks of his wrist. He places the razor on the table next to him, picks up a small, white terry cloth towel, draping around the back of his neck and over his shoulders, and then begins to lather his face.

“What is he doing?” Ridgeway mumbles.

“I have no idea, Captain. If he cuts off his beard and moustache, it’s a one shot trick until he grows it back, which will be weeks.”

“Seems like the waste of a perfectly nice looking beard.” she sighs.

I glance over at her. “Don’t go soft on me, Captain. You know who and what he is.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m just saying.”

I return my attention back to Mastiff, who has just finished wiping his hands on the towel around his neck. He picks up the razor, bring it close to his right cheek. He pauses, razor poised to scrape the cheek.

“Last chance!” he proclaims. The response is the same mix of cheers and boos.

“Very well!” He releases the razor, his right hand falling to his side, but the razor doesn’t fall, it stays lightly pressed against his cheek. After a moment, it starts to slowly slide down, scraping away the shaving cream, leaving bare skin behind. How in God’s name is he doing this?! It isn’t just simple levitation, which is impossible in its own right because he’s in the open air with nothing above him. Somehow, the razor is actually applying pressure and is stable enough to maintain the correct angle. After several more passes, the blade lifts from his face and wipes the excess shaving cream off the blade onto his towel. The razor returns to work as if controlled by an invisible hand. All this time, Mastiff does nothing but make faces, stretching his cheeks or raising his chin to give the razor more room to operate.

In less than three minutes, he is clean shaven, the razor closing itself, landing softly on the table next to him as he wipes his face clean with the towel, dropping it on top of the razor to the resounding applause of the crowd. He bows deeply several times before raising his hands to silence his audience.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you very much! I have one last bit of magic to perform, something no one has ever done before! To accomplish this impossible feat, I require the assistance of twelve volunteers.”

Hundreds of hands instantly shoot skyward, their owners jumping and in place shouting to be chosen, Mastiff eventually waives them quiet.

“I am clearly blessed with so many willing helpers but, as this is my last act, I will call upon some of my loyal audience members who have followed me from my humble beginnings.” He points at Debbie Jennings. “Debbie, will you indulge me this one last time?” She rapidly steps forward, smiling. He also calls for her two friends, Shelby and Janice, who quickly join her. By the time he’s done, he’s got ten young women standing in a line behind him, nervously shifting from side to side.

“All right, ladies. If you would please form a circle around me and join hands.”

He leads them away from his table, toward the sidewalk, creating some space for them to circle him, the crowd shifting as they move. Once he has them all positioned, they each grab their neighbor’s hand, encircling him, all facing inwards. He slowly turns around, inspecting the circle, a frown upon his face, shaking his head side to side.

“No. No. This won’t do. It’s not quite right, we need two more. How about you, Ms. White and Captain Ridgeway?”

“How the fuck does he even know we’re here?” Ridgeway whispers.

“It’s magic, Captain. Neither of us can explain it.”

We both don’t move, not giving away our position while the rest of the audience looks around, expecting to see two people moving his way. Instead, he steps towards us, extending his hand while remaining within his circle of women.

“Come now, Donna. For old time’s sake.”

“What do we do?” Ridgeway asks me.

He knows we’re here so what’s the harm of getting a close up view of this new trick? I grab Ridgeway’s forearm and begin to push our way through the crowd, dragging her with me. There’s some polite applause as we get closer to the group. He parts the circle for us to enter.

“Very Good! Just what I needed! How appropriate.” He takes Ridgeway gently by her shoulders. “Let’s put you over here, Captain,” he says, guiding her to a spot on the other side of the circle, where she dutifully takes the hand of either woman besides her. Mastiff comes back to me.

“Would you be so kind as to take this spot, Ms. White?”

I slide closer to him.

“I know who you are, Alex.” I say quietly but firmly, trying to sound brave and confident. “I know what you want and I’m going to stop you.”

“All by yourself, Donna? I don’t think so.”

“There are a lot more people out there than just me, Alex. You’re not so powerful over here. We can stop you.”

He bends his head down so that he is speaking into my left ear.

“Remember what I told First Minister Dupree when he threatened to capture me?” he whispers

“Yes,” I whisper in reply.

“What was it?”

“Come and get me.”

“Exactly. I also said I’d decapitate the first man through the door.”

“And the second. And the third.”

“And so on. That offer still stands, Ms. White. Feel free to accept it whenever you like. Unless you’re planning on doing it right now, I’d like you to stand over here opposite of Captain Ridgeway. You’ve both got one of the best seats in the house.”

Thompson steps back, a jovial, lopsided grin on his face, waiting for me to move. I’d love to tell him to drop dead but I’m also curious as to what he’s going to do. He’s likely going to do it whether or not I play along so I might as well play along. If he was going to kill me, he could have done it by now. I turn and join the circle.

“Wonderful!” he declares as he walks around inside the circle. “Everyone is in place and all’s right with the world. Pay attention, folks. You’re not going to see anything like this ever again. Would someone hand me that sledge hammer?”

A hand reaches through the circle between Jennings and whoever is next to her, holding what looks like a 20 pound sledge hammer. Thompson takes it from them and tosses it in the air, the handle rapidly revolving around the head. He catches it and presents it to Ridgeway for her inspection.

“Is this a real sledgehammer, Captain Ridgeway?” he asks politely.

She releases the hands of the two women on either side of her, takes the hammer and hefts it, then drops it on the sidewalk at her feet, head first. We can all hear and feel the thud.

“Yes, it’s real, Mr. Mastiff.”

He grabs it by its handle, twirling it in the air and dipping his head towards Ridgeway.

“Thank you for your help, Captain. You can return to the circle.”

She does so, scowling at him as she goes. She doesn’t like being a part of the show any more than I do but she recognizes the advantage for at least one of us to remain close to the action. He walks around the circle for a moment, hammer in hand then he stops, swings it up high over his head and brings it down, slamming into the concrete side walk with a solid thud. He walks a few more steps and does it again, then a third and a fourth time, each resulting in the same, solid thump, though he does powder some of the concrete surface of the sidewalk. He stops, standing upright, the head of the hammer resting on the ground, handle pointing up. He wipes his brow theatrically with the back of his left hand.

“My, this is hotter work than I thought. Excuse me.”

He releases the handle but it stays upright. He whips off his black suit coat, tossing it aside, and begins to unbutton his matching black shirt, slowly and deliberately, one button at a time. The interest level of almost every woman in the circle just skyrocketed. As he leisurely works his way down the front of his shirt, his broad, muscled chest is gradually revealed, as are impressive six pack abs. Once the last button is undone, he casually shrugs off the shirt, dropping it on top of the suit coat.

Returning to the hammer, he easily picks it up, twirling it again. This time, everyone can see the progression of each act in the bulging muscles of his arms, shoulders and back. He again repeatedly slams the hammer into the concrete as he walks around the circle, gradually moving towards the middle as he follows a spiral path. No one has any idea what he’s up to but it’s easy to see that the young women in the circle and those outside are enjoying the show. He stops again with another wipe of the brow.

“This really is much more work than I anticipated. Guess I should have practiced more. Excuse me again.”

He reaches for the belt around the waist of his black trousers as he kicks off his right then left shoes, also black. He’s not wearing any socks. This time, there is little teasing. Thompson quickly unbuckles the belt, unzips the pants and pauses just long enough for everyone to catch their breaths before dropping his pants to the ground, revealing a pair of almost tight, black, silk boxer shorts. Most of the woman gasp or sigh or both as he steps out of the pants bunched around his ankles, bends down to pick both the pants and the shoes up, adding them to the pile of clothes.

Once again, the sledge hammer is grabbed, twirled and smashed against the sidewalk, Thompson picking up where he left off. You can smell the lust in the air. There isn’t a single woman who has been watching his show who wouldn’t tear those boxers off him and ravage Thompson right here and now. I wouldn’t, of course, and neither would Ridgeway, though, looking at the barely concealed hunger in her eyes, I could be wrong about that. Both of us know what’s hidden behind those black boxers but from the way they move, everyone has a pretty good idea that he’s packing king size or better.

He finally reaches the middle of the circle, having thoroughly gone over the entire area. He now stands in the middle of the circle, sledge hammer resting lightly on his right shoulder, left hand on his hip, legs spread slightly as he slowly turns, his body glistening from the sweat generated by the work with the hammer. His big hammer. Anybody can see how big a hammer it is.

“I’d say that we are standing on one solid piece of concrete, wouldn’t you?” he says with a broad smile.

None of the woman say anything, they just nod their head in agreement, unable to take their eyes off the glory that is the body of Alex Thompson.

He approaches Debbie Jennings and extends his hand. She leans towards him. If she wasn’t supported by the women on either side of her, she’d fall flat on her face at his feet.

“Bag please,” he requests.

A hand holding a standard brown paper grocery bag penetrates the circle next to Jennings. Thompson slides right up to her but doesn’t make any contact as he reaches for the bag. The man had to be a male stripper in a prior life. Once he grabs the bag, he moves away, back to the center of the circle as Jennings is pulled back to where she started. He places the bag on the ground and pulls a large amount of black fabric from it. Wielding it above his head, he swirls it around and around, first in circles then a figure eight, the fabric trailing behind until he tosses it into the air where it blossoms out and slowly parachutes down around Thompson, his arms raised. As the fabric settles down to the ground, it becomes clear that it is some kind of robe like a monk might wear, all one piece with baggy sleeves and a hood. Thompson’s hands and head emerge from the openings in the robe. There’s some polite applause for how he handled the robe. He bows slightly.

“Thank you but you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

The robe reaches all the way to the ground, in fact a little longer than that so the edge of the cloth drags behind him as he walks back to the paper bag. He squats down, packing his other clothes in the now empty bag, then taking the bag and the hammer and setting them in front of me.

“What are you up to?” I demand.

“Watch,” is all he says, returning to the center of the circle.

He slowly turns in place one time, a full 360 degrees, then slaps his forehead with his right hand, smiling.

“I almost forgot.”

The hands disappear back inside the robe for a moment then reappear, the right one holding his black boxers. More gasps and sighs from the crowd. He flips them towards me. The two women on either side of me try to reach out and grab them but neither lets go of my hands so it looks as if I am the one dragging their hands forward instead of it being the other way around. The boxers fly directly into the mouth of the paper bag at my feet and Thompson gives me a salacious wink. The crowd laughs as I blush in embarrassment. Even Ridgeway laughs. Thompson returns to his place in the middle of the circle.

“Remember this!” he declares loudly so that everyone can hear him. “I stand on a solid concrete sidewalk! I am surrounded by twelve lovely assistants who are holding hands, who are surrounded on all sides by you, the audience! There is nothing above me but the open sky! I cannot possibly escape unnoticed! I tell you now … that this is my last show and you will NEVER SEE ME AGAIN!”

There are hundreds of screams of anguish as the robe falls into a heap where Thompson once stood. I am so stunned that it takes me several seconds to gather my wits. Apparently, the others were equally stunned because the twelve members of the ring all charge towards the middle at once, reaching and grabbing at the robe as one. There is a momentary tussle before Ridgeway tears it from everyone’s hands, revealing a dozen roses laying on the sidewalk with a note attached. Jennings is closest to the note, she bends down and picks it up with trembling hands. The crowd falls silent as she opens it.

“To my twelve lovely assistants,” she reads. “Please take one rose apiece as a token of my deep appreciation and respect. With love. Lance Mastiff.” She is crying by the time she reaches the end of the note. Her friend Shelby was holding her shaking shoulders as her other friend carefully picks up the roses and begins handing them out to the twelve members of the circle. When she comes to me, I hesitate.

“Take it,” says Ridgeway, already holding her rose. “We may be able to find out something from them.”

I accept the rose but hand it to Ridgeway. “Hold this. I want to check something.” I hurry over to where Thompson left the sledge hammer and pick it up. Damn! It’s heavier than it looks. For Thompson to have tossed it around so lightly … I struggle back through the departing crowd and drop the hammer on the sidewalk were Thompson stood. The same solid thud as before. I try several other spots before tiring of lifting the hammer. I stop, breathing heavily. Ridgeway gives me back my rose.

“Pretty slick on his part,” she says. “All that stuff with the hammer. He wanted to make sure no one could say there was a trap door or anything.”

“There has to be some kind of …”

“There isn’t, White. He had all the bases covered. We both know exactly what it was. Magic, pure and simple.”

“Well, at least we know he’s Alex Thompson.”

“What’d he tell you before he tossed you his undies?”

“Shut up! He told me what he said in my office on the other side. Word for word.”

“Maybe Thompson told him that.”

“Just like the magic, we both know that Mastiff is Thompson. The DNA tests will just confirm it. We need to start getting ready right now…”

Suddenly, I see an older lady picking up Thompson’s magic equipment and packing it away.

“YOU!” I shout. “Hold it right there!”

She ignores me so both Ridgeway and I run over to where she is.

“Who are you and what are you doing?!” I demand.

She stops, giving us a steady, confident look.

“Who I am and what I’m doing is my business and none of yours.” She jerks her head to the left. “Move along” she adds, returning to packing Thompson’s equipment

“My business is what I make my business. Where has Alex Thompson gone?”

She doesn’t look up, just keeps on working but she does respond.

“Not that it matters but I don’t know that name.”

“He’s the man who owns all this equipment. And I want it. All of it.”

“The man who owns this equipment is Lance Mastiff, my tenant.”

“So where is Lance Mastiff?”

“No idea. He asked me to put his property in storage until his return as a favor. He was a good tenant so I agreed. Now, if you’re done with your intrusive questions, I’ll finish here and be on my way.”

“Not so fast,” says Ridgeway. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“By what authority do you question me? I don’t answer to you.”

“Well maybe we’ll take all this stuff,” I say.

She bristles at my threat. “You have no right!”

I lean forward. Both Ridgeway and I are younger and taller. We’d have no trouble just grabbing Thompson’s paraphernalia and leaving with it. She might succumb to a little intimidation. Ridgeway and I are standing next to each other just a few feet away from the old woman.

“You couldn’t stop us from taking all this and the police wouldn’t help you because it’s not yours. If you don’t want trouble, just walk away. Now!”

I’m preparing to raise my arm and grab her when a very heavy hand lands on my left shoulder. I look back. And up. A tall, blonde woman is standing behind and between Ridgeway and me, her hands gripping both of our shoulders in an increasingly painful way.

“Is there trouble, Mistress LaRouche?” she asks.

“Not now,” the old woman answers.

The tall woman is blonde and at least 6 foot 3. I glance down and see she’s wearing flat soled running shoes, so she’s a legit 6 foot 3. Her grip on my shoulder is beginning to cut off the blood flow into my arm. I try to twist away but she keeps hold, dragging me back. Ridgeway tries the same move but is more aggressive but she fares no better than I do.

“Release them, Johanna,” the old woman commands.

She lets go of my shoulder with a slight forward shove. I get my balance and spin around to confront her. She’s tall, broad in the shoulders and chest, looks to be in fantastic shape and holds the sledge hammer in one hand, twirling it like a baton twirler. She crosses between Ridgeway and me, dropping the hammer into a large, partially full, duffle bag, which she closes, locks and casually hefts onto her left shoulder, like it weighs practically nothing. The old woman finishes packing up and folds the tables. The blonde giant takes a table in each hand, The old lady turns to address us.

“My friend and I are done here. I strongly suggest that you not bother us because my friend is somewhat protective of me.”

With that, they turn and march off into Central Park, leaving us standing alone where, but a few minutes ago, was filled to capacity and beyond.

“Nice try, White,” says Ridgeway.

“You could have taken her.”

“Like hell! Did you see how she handled that hammer? She could have smashed our heads like ripe pumpkins. Besides, don’t we already know where Mastiff was staying? If we need that stuff, we can send a team. Maybe two.”

“Maybe three. Right now, we need to get organized. Thompson has disappeared but you can be damn sure he isn’t gone. He didn’t go to all this trouble to simply cut and run. He’ll be back and we need to be ready.”

“Ready for what, exactly?”

“How the hell should I know?”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

That last trick damn nearly killed me.

As time went on, my magic act also became a balancing act. The more I did real magic tricks, the more magic power it took to do those tricks, weakening me. But those were the tricks that made believers out of non-believers, which made me stronger. It was always a question when I started to perform whether or not there was going to be enough magic available to finish that day.

At the end of each show, I was tired and tapped out but I was doing so much more than I was when I started. This time, though, I really pushed the envelope. Making the sidewalk beneath me disappear was tough enough after a complete show but then dropping naked into the sewer was taking a big risk. It’s still summer so there was little water in there but that kind of drop could still kill a man, particularly if I slipped up and let the concrete return before I was completely clear of the hole Now it’s just a matter of following the marks I left behind when scouting this section and find the manhole where Johnathyn is waiting with a change of clothes.

I can feel the increase in the level of belief already as I begin to recharge. I just hope it’s enough to do the job. Posting the video of today’s performance on YouTube should help some. We’ll know by the end of tomorrow if it’s all been worthwhile.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

I am certain this is where we are to meet Alexia but he has not arrived yet. This world is full of wonders but also full of confusion. I cannot think of Alex as anything but Alexia but he is clearly a man named Alex in this world. I have to force myself to say “he” instead of “she.” It is the same with Leeanna.

It is the exact opposite for myself. Despite what I see in the mirror every day or my reflection in the large sheets of glass that are found wherever you look in this world, I cannot bring myself to think of myself as a woman. I am just temporarily not a man. That is the best that I can do. I have no idea how Alexia was able to do what she did when she came to my world. Every second here is an irritation to me, one that could eventually drive me mad except that I know it is just temporary. I can tolerate most anything as long as I know it will eventually come to an end. My mother always said that if I had been born a girl, she would have had to name me Patience.

Certainly not Johanna. How Pegues creates these names is beyond me. I can’t even answer to that name; it is so foreign to me. Yet Pegues seems to easily slip back and forth. Miran to Mirantha and back to Miran, as simple and easy as a change of clothes.

Clothes! I quickly reach down and touch the bag that holds Alexia’s change of clothes, assuring myself that it is still here and that we are ready for her when he arrives. There I go again! By Zaphod’s great staff, this is madness!

Leeanna still seems mostly unaffected, though she too is confused at times. Calling a man “Mother” and a woman “Father” can do that to you. No matter what trouble awaits us, I will feel much better when we all return home.

The prospect of Alexia coming home to be my wife fills me with as much joy as remaining here and Alex being my husband fills me with dread. I know it is unfair of me, I can see the desire in Alex’s eyes but I simply do not share it, even though I know that they are one and the same person and that to love Alexia is to love Alex but I cannot make that leap. That Alex does not push me only makes me love her more, yet I cannot bring myself to show him this affection.

As I said. Madness. Absolute madness.

Mistress LaRouche is sitting with me on the bench near what they call a manhole. She glances at her watch, trying not to make a show of it as to not worry me. She need not bother because I am past “worried” and have moved on to “concerned.”

“How late is he?” I ask.

“Not very,” she lied. “Not much more than … twenty decicycles is it? I know you explained all about that but I still haven’t grasped the actual conversion factor. Don’t worry, he’ll be here soon.”

I lie also. “I’m not worried.”

“Let’s talk about something else. I was glad to have you with me today at the end of the show.”

“It was my pleasure. You would have had a difficult time carrying all those things here by yourself.”

“No, Johnathyn. I was referring to the trouble caused by those two women, Ridgeway and White. Without your help, they may have tried to take everything.”

“You are a witch, Mistress. I am certain you could have dealt with them yourself.”

“You overestimate what a witch in this world can accomplish. If there was to be a fight, I’d prefer to have someone with a big stick on my side.”

“I had no stick, Mistress.”

“You had that sledge hammer.”

“That weighed barely one stone. On my world, I could wield a hammer weighing almost three stone. I curse my weakness daily.”

She laughs. “Well, I was glad that you had my back.”

“Happy to do what I can, Mistress. I am confused on one point. Do you not feel more powerful in Alexia’s presence? On our world, the more witches that gathered together, the more magic power there was to share. If Alexia was among them, all the other witches could certainly tell the difference.”

She ponders my question for a moment.

“I had never thought about it before. You need to remember that the power Alexia had in your world is not the power Alex has in this world but, now that you mention it, lately, I have been feeling better, more energized. That could be why. My customers are reporting better results with my potions. I assumed it was me but it could also be Alex. That’s unfortunate. I’d hate to lose that when he leaves.”

“Perhaps you and some other witches could join forces and exploit what he has already accomplished. Build upon it.”

“That is an excellent idea, Johnathyn! I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about that myself!”

“He’s always given me great advice,” says Alex, faintly.

We both jump up, moving quickly to the manhole.

“Is that you, Alexia?” I shout.

“No, it’s a giant talking rat. Yes it’s me. Help me lift this thing up and give me my clothes.”

Mistress LaRouche returns to the bench for the bag holding Alex’s clothes while I kneel down and work my fingers into the small holes of the thick metal lid. With Alex pushing up from below and me lifting from above, we soon have the lid shoved aside. When I look down the hole, I see that he’s climbed up using some iron rungs imbedded in the smooth stone that lines the hole. He looks up at me, smiling brightly and winks.

“Sorry I’m late. Miss me?”

“Do you mean was I worried? Yes, we both were. Why were you detained?”

“I was barefoot. There are a lot of things in a sewer you don’t want to step on without something on your feet.”

“Doing this unclothed was your idea. I would think that you should have thought about that problem.”

“I told you, for the bit to work, I needed to be wearing the robe. I had to have something cover up the fact that I was dropping down through the sidewalk. If I were wearing my clothes, I didn’t need the robe. Besides, without the clothes, there wasn’t anything to snag on the edge of the sidewalk when I dropped.”

“I did not like the way those women were looking at you.”

“Aaawww, jealous. That’s cute. Just hand me my bag and we can discuss this later.”

Just then, Mistress LaRouche returns with the bag. She kneels down opposite me and extends the hand that holds the bag down into the hole.

“Here you go, Alex.”

He takes the bag from her hand. “Thank’s Janet. I’ll change and be with you in a jiff.” He places the handles of the bag in his mouth and climbs back down the side of the hole about 3 decileagues before reaching the ground. Removing the bag from his teeth, he bends down to remove something from the bag. As he stands up, I see that it is an undergarment. Alex steps forward so that he is standing in a shaft of light so that he can see what he is doing. As can I. As can Mistress LaRouche.

“OH MY!” she gasps, looking briefly away but then returns her gaze to the shaft. After Alex pulls the under garment up his legs and around his waist, she turns her head and looks at me.

“Did you know that Alex had …”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Have you and he …”

“Not since I came to this world.”

“So, since you became a woman, you and he haven’t…”

“No, we have not.”

“Not once?”

“No.”

“And you’re married. To each other, I mean.”

“Yes, we are married.”

“Not even once since you got here?”

“No. Not even once.”

She looks back down the hole to see the shaft. “You should, Dear. You really should.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

I can hear Johnathyn and Janet LaRouche talking at the top of the manhole but I can’t hear exactly what they are saying. Guess it doesn’t matter. If there was a problem of some kind, one of them would let me know.

The clothes are a little touristy for my taste but that’s the purpose. Add a hat and some sun glasses and I should be able to be unrecognized until we start tomorrow. After I finish buttoning my shirt, I grab the first rung of the steps.

“Coming up!” I shout and quickly climb the ten feet or so to the top. When I get there, I hold out my hand to Johnathyn. “A little help?”

He reaches out, takes my hand and easily pulls me out of the manhole. Together, we get the cover back in place in seconds and all three of us pick up my magic stuff and hurry away. We aren’t headed back to the apartment though. If someone is looking for me, that’s the first place they’d go. Were spending the rest of today and tomorrow morning at the rooms that Pegues originally rented when they crossed over weeks ago.

It’ll be take out instead of home cooking but we’ll be safer.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

Ridgeway said she would do what she could to raise the alarm at the Winthrop group about Alex Thompson but she is as limited as I am. Neither of us are in the good graces of our employers. For the same reason--we failed to put down the revolution over there. Now, we may have proof that the revolution has crossed over to our world and no one wants to believe us.

I’ve put together a fairly impressive collection of videos from YouTube of Thompson’s act, including some from today’s finale. Unfortunately, nothing from today managed to catch our conversation. They show us talking but you can’t hear what we’re saying. All I can hope is that these videos along with DNA proof will convince Lawson that something must be done about him right now.

The next question is what should be done. Upper management hates it when you simply bring them problems. They want solutions, preferably ones they can adopt and take credit for if they work or can hide from if they fail. Here, there are too many unknowns. Is Thompson working alone? If not, who are his people, how many are there, where are they?

Clearly, simply killing Thompson is not enough. We have to capture him, question him. He knows things that could cause the company all kinds of problems but he may not have proof. If he does have proof, he’s smart enough to have taken precautions, maybe that landlord of his or that giant friend of hers.

This is simply too much for Ridgeway and me to handle by ourselves. If we can’t get some help from the Winthrop Group, we could lose this one.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Ridgeway, you know we don’t take a dump around here without an order in triplicate. If you don’t have orders from the top, I can’t help you.”

Bureaucracy is bureaucracy wherever you go.

“Look, Bates. I’m not telling you to actually do anything. What I’m suggesting is that you get ready to do something.”

“And why would I do that, Ridgeway?”

“Because I’ve got inside information that the Consortium is going to make an emergency request for an Action Team. The man who activates that team quickly will look like a hero to upper management, wouldn’t you think?”

Bates gives me an extremely suspicious look. “Exactly what are you suggesting?”

“Naturally, the obvious. Put an assault squad on alert, same with a communication unit.”

“Really? Is that all? Maybe I should call the National Guard too?”

What a dick. “It’s no big deal, Bates. You’re the man in charge of training, aren’t you? You do shit like that all the time and call it a readiness drill.” I hated those damn things. They could ruin a perfectly good weekend. “You also assign a surveillance squad to follow some random civilian for a couple of days to keep the skill set sharp. Instead of a random civilian, what if I suggest a name?”

“Who’s paying for all this?”

“It’s already in your training budget. It’s just a matter of timing. You ‘just happen’ to have the correct people on alert when the Consortium ‘just happens’ to need them. You look like a genius.”

“And if I don’t get the call from the Consortium?”

“Then it’s just your normal, unannounced, readiness drill. The troops hate ’em but they know they’re coming.”

“What about this guy you want followed? How do I sell that one?”

“Like I said, training. You always pair up some newbies with vets and send them out to teach surveillance techniques. Nothing new.”

“Level with me, Ridgeway. Why this guy? Who is he?”

I wanted to put this off as long as possible but if I put him off, Bates is going to be more suspicious than he already is.

“Lance Mastiff.”

“The magic guy? I’ve seen some of those videos floating around here. Those tricks with the Coke cans? Crazy shit man.”

“You seen the one from today?”

“Naw, haven’t checked my email yet.”

“He’s disappeared.”

“Didn’t show up for his performance?”

“Oh he showed up. Then he disappeared.”

Bates looked confused. “You mean he got inside a box of some kind, they turned around a couple of times, and when they opened the box he was gone?”

“No, he took off his clothes, threw on a robe and he disappeared, leaving an empty robe. And no, there was no trap door, no manhole in the sidewalk and he was surrounded by people so he didn’t sneak off.”

“That’s impossible!”

“Bates … did you ever … you know, cross over?”

“Me? No. I would have though. And yes, I know that means I’d become a chick, but come on! It’s another god damn universe! Who wouldn’t want to see it?”

“Well, if you had, you wouldn’t say it was impossible. I saw shit like that all the time.”

“Hold on. Are you saying this Mastiff guy is from over there?”

I could try to tell Bates the entire story but I don’t have the time and I don’t need to. “Yeah, that’s what it looks like.”

“One of them, over here? My God!”

“Exactly.”

“How’d those idiots let that happen?!”

“Who knows? The main thing is we’ve got to find him and put him in the bag until we’ve wrung him dry. But to do that we’ve got to find him.”

“Look, Ridgeway. There’s only so much I can do without orders. I can give you four guys to search for Mastiff and I can put the rest of the Action Team on standby but the Consortium’s gonna have to make that call and agree to pay the freight. Winthrop Group ain’t a charity.”

“That’s all I’m suggesting, Bates.”

“Hope it’s enough.”

“Me too.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We got Leeanna her McRibs. I have a couple of Big Macs and fries. Johnathyn decides on chicken sandwiches while Pegues passed. Claims she isn’t hungry. It’s probably nerves. I know I’m nervous. The last time we went to war, there were more of us and I was much stronger. The enemy was stronger too but she was much more predictable. I had a pretty good idea how things were going to go and what I would do if they went some other way.

It’s a lot different this time. I don’t think the enemy knows what to expect from me but I’m not exactly sure what to expect from them either. I’m counting on surprising them but if I’m wrong, someone is going to get hurt. Maybe a lot of someones. Maybe me.

But it won’t be Johnathyn and Leeanna.

We eat our meals in silence. Even Leeanna feels the weight of the moment. After we finish our food, I gather the trash and toss it in the waste can next to the bathroom. When I return to the room, I sit back down at the table.

“Guys, I want to get something straight. I’m not happy about it but I need all of you at the Consortium tomorrow. Every little bit of belief will help and you three are the strongest believers. We’ve already talked about how you each get in the building and what you do when you get there but we haven’t talked about what happens if things go wrong. Thankfully, it’s simple. You all meet in the lobby, go somewhere relatively quiet and you go back home. Pegues will bring his Portal Generator. You open a portal and leave. Simple and straight forward. I don’t want to hear any objections or arguments.”

“You won’t get any from me,” says Pegues.

“You will from me,” says Johnathyn. Leeanna just nods her head in agreement.

I take their hands in mine. “I appreciate your willingness to stay but it’s not right. You two are the most important people in the world to me. You don’t belong in this world and I won’t see you stranded here. If we win, we all go home. If we lose, you three go home. You can’t stay here under any circumstances. You don’t belong here. This world would eat you up. It’s a fun place to visit but you wouldn’t want to live here. I’ll arrange a time and place to meet Pegues as a backup plan a few weeks later, presumably once the heat has died down. He’ll be a one man team, you understand. No further rescue attempts.”

“But our world needs you, Mother. We all do. I do,” Leeanna pleads.

“I know, Honey. If this doesn’t work, I’ll find a way back. The technology exists; I just need to get my hands on it.”

“Then just come back with us now! Don’t take any chances! We could leave right now!”

“Leeanna, I know this is hard for you to understand but this is more than just vengeance. It’s about what kind of world we return to, the future of our world, your future.”

“Your mother is right,” says Johnathyn. “We have discussed this and I agree with her. It is important. But it is also important we all return home.”

I sigh. Johnathyn isn’t going to let this go. If we’re gonna have it out, I don’t want Lee to see it.

“It’s getting late and we all need to get some sleep tonight. Leeanna, you can stay with Mirantha …” Lee opens her mouth to object. “Just for tonight.”

“Nooooo! I want to stay with you and Father!”

I hug her shoulders and kiss her forehead. “I know, this isn’t fun for you. It’s not fun for any off us.”

“Certainly not for me,” grouses Pegues. She extends her hand towards Leeanna. “Come on, Leeanna. Let’s leave the adults alone to talk.”

“Go on,” I say. “We’ll both see you in the morning.” I kiss her cheek. Johnathyn nods his head in agreement.

Leeanna reluctantly takes Pegues’ hand and he leads her out of the room, closing the door behind them.

I start to straighten up the hotel room. “I never asked how you got the money to finance this little rescue mission.”

“Some of us returned to the Winthrop Group compound after you left.”

“After I left clear orders that it was to be left alone?”

“You were gone, others were in charge. I went to make sure the spirit of your order was kept if not the actual order.”

Johnathyn was as curious as anyone. There wasn’t any way to keep people from going back short of burning it to the ground. I’ll have to remember that the next time.

“So what did you find?”

“We found a safe in the floor of a closet. It was not that hard to remove but was difficult to open.”

“Without the combination or a cutting torch, I can imagine. How’d you end up opening it?”

“A three stone hammer can be very persuasive.”

Particularly if swung by Johnathyn about a hundred times.

“You pounded the safe to mush. What did you find?”

“Over 12,000 of your doll-ares. Why are mostly light green pieces of paper with pictures on them valuable in this world?”

“They’re not intrinsically valuable, it’s what they represent.”

“What do they represent?”

“The belief that they will be accepted in exchange for goods and services.”

“So a man is wealthy because he believes he is wealthy and others believe the same?”

“No, not exactly. I could spend all night describing our monetary system but that’s not what we need to discuss, is it?”

“No. It is not.” Johnathyn sits straight in his chair, upright and shoulders back, forearms resting on top of the table in front of him. Even now, “she” can be quit intimidating. “I do not want Leeanna to be a part of this.”

“She’ll be with you the entire time. You don’t need to do anything but stay in the public lobby on the first floor. They’ll have no reason to suspect either of you of anything. It’s extremely safe. Besides, where else would you have her be? Pegues has his own job to do as does LaRouche. There’s no one left to watch her. We could leave her all by herself here in the hotel or at LaRouche’s shop but if things go wrong and you need to make a fast escape, then it will take time to get her. If she’s right there, you’re all gone in minutes instead of hours.”

“I am not leaving without you, Alexia. Not after going through all …” his hands hover in front of his breasts for a moment, “…THIS to find you.”

I really want to remind him I went through all THAT myself when I came to his world. In the end, it wasn’t all bad. He should give it a chance. Unfortunately, we don’t have the time for Johnathyn to try and adapt.

“Johnathyn, we all have jobs to do here. If I can’t pull this off, we’re all screwed. Both in this world and yours. I’ve got to get this right and I’m the only one who can do it. Why do you insist on giving me grief about this?”

“Because I do not want Leeanna involved. I’m her father; it should be my decision.”

“I’m her mother and I say it’s the only way that makes sense.”

“We both know that you are not really her mother.”

That hurt. I always expected he’d say something like that when we would eventually disagree about Leeanna sometime in the future but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less just because I knew it was coming.

“Are you saying I don’t love that girl, Johnathyn? Are you saying I would not lay down my life for her? Are you saying that she means NOTHING TO ME?! Are you saying that all that we said to each other on the other side meant NOTHING?! That I was her mother when it was CONVENIENT for you but now that we have to actually talk about her and there’s a disagreement, you’re gonna play the ‘not mommy’ card? Is that how this is going down, Johnathyn?”

Luckily, since I knew he’d say that some day, I had a response rehearsed. He looks shocked.

“NO! I didn’t mean to say any of that!”

“Well I don’t want to hear that statement ever again. If this works and we go home, I need to know right now, by your solemn word. Am I or am I not to be treated as Leeanna’s mother? This is a final, once and for all decision, Johnathyn. There’s no second thoughts or going back. I’m either a part of this family or I’m not. Your call. But before you make that call, remember that we are not going home to that idyllic life we had of traveling through the country, helping people one to one. I’m going to be the Queen, you’re going to be my husband, the Queen’s consort and she’s going to be the Queen’s daughter and we’re all going to spend the rest of our lives in the spotlight and the crosshairs. If it goes wrong, it’s my problem and I’ll get the blame. If it goes right, I’ll be lucky to get the credit half the time. You and Lee will be in the same boat with me. It won’t be the same as before but, hopefully, we can all do some good.”

I reach across the table and gently take Johnathyn’s hand in mine. “So you tell me, are we a family or not?”

He stares at me from across the table for a few seconds, then a small smile appears on his face as he begins to rub the back of my hand with his thumb. “If I had any doubts that you are still the Alexia that I knew, they are vanquished. I am sorry. It was cruel of me to say what I did. We are now and shall ever be a family, come what may but I long for the day when you are the woman and I am the man again.”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty well equipped to show you a good time right now.” He tries to pull his hand away but I keep a grip on it. “I know. You’re not ready. I certainly wasn’t ready after a few weeks either. Not a problem. Back to Leeanna. I understand why you don’t want her there. It’s safer. But if she’s not there, you can try to ride to my rescue if things go wrong, like you did at the castle. I’m grateful you were there then but this is different. If Lee is there, you’ll have to take care of her first and me second and taking care of her means returning home and leaving me here. I understand and accept that. You need to also. It’s the right way and the only way that makes sense for everybody.”

“I surrender to your logic, Alexia. You win. I am not happy but there appears to be no happy choice presented so I accept the least unpleasant choice.”

“Great. Now come over here.”

I stand up, still holding his hand, and lead him to the couch.

“What is this?” he asks.

“Just sit and wait.”

Johnathyn sits as I release his hand. I cross the room and turn out the lights. There’s still some soft, diffuse light in the room from the city lights outside filtering through the curtains drawn across the windows. I can see well enough to find my way back to the couch.

“Scoot over,” I say.

Johnathyn slides to one end. I sit and snuggle my back up against him. He stiffens up.

“Please hold me, Johnathyn.”

“Alexia … I don’t …”

“Just close your eyes and hold me. That’s all. Just hold me. I pray to Zaphod that we win tomorrow and we have many, many years together but if we don’t, I would like to fall asleep in your arms tonight. Is that asking too much of my husband?”

I feel his arms slide around my lower rib cage, cradling my arms.

“It is not too much to ask of me, my wife.”

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

I don’t know how long my phone was ringing before it woke me but I listen to at least three rings before I roll over to my right side and reach for it, swatting at the top of the night table before finally finding it, shutting off the damn ringing. When I bring the phone to my ear, I can see the clock on the screen.

4 freaking 35 in the morning. It’s Donna White.

“Yeah, White, what do you want?” I ask, flopping back onto my bed.

“I need a progress report, Captain Ridgeway.”

“At this fucking hour?! I just got to bed, like three hours ago!”

“I haven’t gone to bed. It could happen today. It could be happening right now.”

“Then why don’t YOU go down to your office and give ME a progress report? Forget that. You’re crazy enough to do it. I don’t know any more than I did like six hours ago and probably won’t until morning. Bates knows to call me if the Surveillance Team tumbles to anything. He calls me, I’ll call you. That’s as much as we can do right now.”

“What about the Assault Squad?”

“Still on standby but they won’t stay that way forever. If you want more than that, you’ll have to get the Consortium to pay for it.”

“What did the Surveillance Team actually find?”

“I told you, White. Nothing! Mastiff had left his apartment, took what little stuff he had and vamoosed. The old lady checked out, she actually is his landlady.”

“What about the big one, with the sledge hammer?”

“They didn’t see her. Look, they’re checking out some pretty skimpy leads. If anything pans out, I’ll know. Go to bed and get some sleep. It’s the best thing we can do right now. It’s the only thing we can do right now.”

“I don’t see how you can sleep at a time like this, Captain.”

“Practice. Don’t call me again. You can pick me up in the morning at eight - and not a minute before, you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Go to bed, White.”

I disconnect the call and put the phone back on the nightstand. If White calls again tonight, I’ll kill her in the morning.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Are you MAD?!”

“I don’t think so, Janet.”

“Alex, when you said you would get to the roof of the Consortium’s building by crossing over from the roof of the building next door, I thought it was brilliant but I also assumed they were close to each other and the same height. They’re separated by over forty feet and the other building is ten stories taller. It’s suicide!”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Can you fly?”

“Not over here. I could over there. I’ve tried, but no luck.”

“Then I don’t see how you’re going to do it.”

We’ve all gathered on top of the roof of the apartment building next to the Consortium’s office. Getting up here was easy, the place has minimal security and it’s 6:30 in the morning. The Consortium, on the other hand, has lots of security. Getting from the relatively open ground floor to the top floor where they’ll be holding their board meeting would be very tough. Going from the roof to one floor down would be much easier, particularly if the aren’t expecting it. Getting to the roof is the tough part.

“I can’t fly but I can fall with style.”

Leeanna laughs. She recognizes the line.

“What does that mean?” asks LaRouche.

“It means, Mistress LaRouche, that my mother can safely go from here to there,” Leeanna answers with pride in her voice.

“Child, no one could do that without a parachute.”

“Even a parachute wouldn’t work. The roofs are too close,” I say. “I can control my fall, Janet. I’ve done it before, admittedly with more magic in the vicinity but that’s why you’re all here. You are all believers, strong believers.”

“Alex, I don’t believe you can do this,” says LaRouche.

“That doesn’t matter, just as long as you believe in magic. What I do with that belief is my business. I know this is dangerous but so is going in through the front door. This is dangerous for the fewest people, just me.”

LaRouche is exasperated. “You’re this man’s … husband, Johnathyn. Do something!”

Johnathyn had been standing apart from the rest of us near the edge of the roof, staring across the space between the two buildings, his back to all of us.

“This is as it must be, Mistress LaRouche,” he replies without turning around. “I have seen what Alexia can do when she sets her mind to it. I also know that changing her mind is very difficult. It is better to help her than fight her.”

LaRouche finally turns towards Pegues but he just raises his hands and shakes his head. “Don’t look at me,” he says. “I just do what I’m told. He’s the Queen.”

I clap my hands together lightly several times. “Guys, we’re burning dark here. I need to do this while there aren’t a lot of people paying attention. It’s now or never.”

“Better never,” LaRouche grumbles.

“Well, if I die, you have my permission to put ‘I told you so’ on my headstone, Janet. Johnathyn, take your position.”

Johnathyn walks back and forth several times, eyeing the other roof. He finally stops, pointing at something. I step up next to him.

“This is the shortest distance. Your target is that black pipe. See it?”

I site down his arm and see where he’s pointing.

“Yep. Got it.”

“The wind is blowing this direction,” he indicates left to right with a sweep of his hand. “But it is also blowing up off the face of the building, which is a good omen. It should help.” He fixes me with his deep blue eyes. “Be careful, Alexia.”

“I will. Stick to the plan. Make sure Pegues does too. If everyone does their job, we go home to an uncertain future.” I smile and wink at him. “Can’t beat that with a stick.”

He smiles too, though he has no idea what I’m saying. I back away from him about thirty feet and look around. LaRouche is standing behind Leeanna, her hands resting on Lee’s shoulders. I give Lee what I hope is a confident smile and a thumbs up. She responds with one of each. LaRouche shrugs and also gives me a wan smile and a thumbs up. Pegues just nods.

I turn back to face Johnathyn, take a calming breath and start to run towards him, slowly at first but rapidly accelerating toward the edge of the roof. I have to commit 100 percent to this or it will fail. Concentrating on a point just a few feet before Johnathyn, that’s my take off point. I don’t even look at the edge, just my take off point. Everything one step at a time.

As my right foot hits my mark, Johnathyn grabs me and throws me up and over the edge, launching me into the air. For a few seconds, it’s as if I am flying again but gravity quickly reasserts itself and I begin to fall. I desperately look around until I find the black pipe that is my target and concentrate on that. Every thought I have, every bit of energy in my body is directed towards that pipe. I’m still falling but the arc is beginning to flatten out. I’m moving forward also.

After about seven seconds, I can see that I’m going to land on the Consortium’s roof but now, I’ve got to slow down. I switch to thinking about an enormous airbed like stuntmen use. It’s big and thick and it slowly collapses as soon as you land on it. Just a bag of air that dissipates on contact. I just need the air to gather beneath me. Lots and lots of air. I’ve used it before, I can use it again. Gather the air. Collect the air. Pack the air.

I feel the resistance. I’m slowing. Don’t stop! Pack the air. Condense the air. Still slowing. Gather! Pack! Condense! Slowing but not enough! Gather! Pack! Condense! Get ready … get ready … ready … ROLL! I throw myself forward, my shoulder striking the roof but I immediately start rolling across the surface. I feel momentarily squashed but keep rolling, changing the direction of the energy. I spread my arms and legs, the rolling stops as I skid to a halt on my back.

Ouch.

Alive but … ouch.

I roll over onto my stomach and push myself up off the roof, getting my feet underneath me and slowly stand up, waiting for something to say “hold up Dude! I’m broken!” but nothing speaks up. Looks like I made it safe and sound. Except for my clothes. Both pants and shirt are torn and dirty.

When I get to my feet, I look back the way I just came and see four figures standing on the edge of the apartment building, the shortest waving both arms wildly in the air above her head. That’s my girl. I raise both arms and wave back. She starts to jump up and down but Johnathyn puts his hand on her shoulder, settling her down. He steps away from the group and begins to swing a rope over his head, letting a little more rope slip from his hand as it continues to circle above him, the speed quickly increasing. As the circling rope becomes a blur, he releases it, the end arcing out into the sky and then it begins to fall, slowly at first but rapidly picking up speed, aiming straight at me. I wait until the last second to move aside, letting the end of the rope land within three feet of me.

Johnathyn had tied the rope around a good sized rock and had slung it in my direction, almost striking me on his first attempt. Not bad at all. I untie the rope from around the rock then loop it several times around an exhaust pipe before tying it off. Johnathyn pulls up the slack, tightening the rope between us. Leeanna hangs a bundle on the rope and releases it, the bundle shooting down the rope straight to me. I catch it before it strikes the pipe, disconnect it from the rope and open it. It’s my original black magician’s outfit and a FSR two way radio. I switch the radio on and the display lights up. It’s already set to the agreed upon base and security channels. I happily push the “talk” button.

“What’d ya think about my landing, Lee?”

“Are you alright, Mother?”

“Not bad. A few scrapes and bruises. It’ll hurt worse tomorrow. Hand the radio to your father.”

I see them exchange the radio and then Johnathyn bends down closer to Leeanna as she again explains how the buttons work. My radio buzzes several times and then I hear a voice.

“Alexia, can you hear me? Oh … over?”

“Yes Johnathyn, I can hear you. You take care of Leeanna and both of you stay out of trouble. Over.”

He fumbles with the radio and Leeanna lends a hand. It beeps again.

“… understand, Alexia. You also be careful. Mistress LaRouche wishes to speak with you.”

I watch the hand over.

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, Alex. Are you really okay?”

“Yes, Janet. As I said, a few bumps and bruises but otherwise fine. The meeting’s scheduled for an 11:15 a.m. start, an early catered lunch meeting. You all know what to do but don’t take any chances. You’re the only one with real experience in this world, Janet, so I’m relying on you to keep everyone safe. I’ll be monitoring this channel so, if anything goes wrong, contact me. Otherwise, we meet at the rendezvous point after it’s all finished. Over.”

“Sorry, I forgot. Not used to these technical things. Yes, the rendezvous after it is all over. No, not over … I mean not that kind of over.”

Leeanna snatches the radio from LaRouche. “We all understand, Mother. We won’t let you down … be careful … I love you …Over.”

“I love you too, Leeanna. Over.”

Both Johnathyn and Leeanna make one last wave and then they walk away from the edge until I can’t see them anymore. I reach in the bag and remove my lock pick set. Time to change clothes, work on the lock on the door to the stairwell and recharge my magic as everyone comes to work.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

They promised me results by 10:00 a.m. and it’s already 10:24 a.m. What is the delay? I’ve spoken to Ridgeway twice this morning and there is still nothing on Thompson. I can feel things slipping away from me, like a noose tightening around my neck. We are running out of time!

Ridgeway says that there is no reason to panic, that we haven’t got proof of anything yet. She’s right but I also know Thompson. He loves to take chances and God knows he has the flair for the dramatic. Even before he adopted the Lance Mastiff disguise, back when he was keeping a low profile, he was suspected of performing some of the most difficult hacks ever attempted. When the authorities were able to determine how he did it, it was always by some unique, unexpected, elegant method. Talking with them, you definitely got the impression that they respected his abilities, some of them respected Thompson himself, a few even admired him.

You can’t relax around someone like that. I saw first hand what Alexia was capable of and there is no doubt in my mind that Alex Thompson is just as ruthless.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

We parked Alex’s truck around the corner on West 59th street, out of sight of the Consortium’s office. We packed all our equipment in the back and Pegues and I are ready to enter the building. Each of us is wearing a brown, heavy duty apron, the kind you find in garden shops, over work clothes of blue coveralls. There are four 5 gallon buckets, one holding garden tools and assorted soil testing kits, the other three stacks of vials of my potions, fully charged with magic. I grab the one with the tools and one of the potion buckets.

“It’s time to go, Pegues. Alex wants us in place by 10:30. We need to take our time and be in the lobby when the meeting starts upstairs. Let me do the talking. This is my world, I know how the people here think.”

“As you wish, Mistress LaRouche,” Pegues replies.

“Also, as much as I love the ‘Mistress’ reference, you had better call me ‘Janet’.”

“As you wish, Janet.”

“Good. You get the other buckets. Johnathyn, you and Leeanna come in at 11:00. Use that dolly cart. Load it up with as many packages of phone books that you can carry.”

There are over twenty shrink wrapped packages of phone books in the back of the truck, thirty books per package, along with an industrial dolly.

“Where did you get these Mistress … I apologize, Janet,” Johnathyn asks.

“Alex and I picked them up at the Library. The publisher leaves thousands there for people to take. They were more than happy to get rid of them. All you and Leeanna need do is load the dolly, take it to the lobby and wait for the guards to ask you what you’re doing. Tell them you’re delivering the phone books and where do they want them. Don’t let them brush you off. If they won’t cooperate, tell them you’ll just leave them in the corner, drop them there and spend the rest of your time counting them. Slowly counting them.”

“What is a phone book?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have time to explain it. The guards will know, that’s what’s important. Don’t make a scene, don’t get into a fight. If things get ugly, I’ll step in.”

“I understand, Janet. Thank you for helping us. You do not need to take the risk but you have done so anyway. We are all indebted to you.”

Pegues grabs the handles of the buckets and lifts them, grunting loudly from the effort.

“What do you have in here, rocks?” she complains.

“Minerals, so close enough. Let’s go.”

We hurry off, following the sidewalk to the Central Park South intersection and then we turn right, crossing in front of the Consortium’s office, Pegues lagging behind me. I climb the steps and hold the door open for her as she struggles up the steps. I follow her in.

The atrium inside is impressive. Two stories tall, lots of light, glass and chrome. And lots of plants. And trees. There’s a bank of black leather chairs off to the right. Pegues drops her buckets as I step up to the front desk.

“Good morning. We’re with the plant services.”

It doesn’t appear that the guard is buying it.

“You people were just here yesterday. Watered the hell out of everything.”

“We don’t do the watering. We’re in charge of plant health. We test the soils, add fertilizer, organic of course, minerals, whatever.”

“Got a work order?”

I was afraid of this. We’ll have to bluff our way in.

“That’s a funny story. We had one but lost it, got sucked right out the window of the truck while we were driving over here.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Hilarious story. No work order, can’t help ya’ ladies.”

“But we had a work order!”

“Then go get another. Not my problem.”

“Look, Sir …”

Pegues picks up her buckets. “Don’t bother, Janet. This jerk doesn’t understand. Let’s go to the next job.”

“No! Wait, Pegues.”

“Janet, the guy thinks it’s not his problem. Fine. He’ll find out soon enough that it is. We’ve got other jobs today.”

“What do you mean it’s my problem?” asks the guard.

Pegues drops the buckets again. “You know how much even one of those trees are worth?”

“No. How much?”

“Like three times your annual salary. And there’s what … six of them? You do the calculations. That’s not counting all the other plants. Yes, they were all watered yesterday to prepare them for us to do the testing and feeding. You can’t keep big trees like those healthy in such small pots without very careful monitoring. If they die because you kept us from our job, it will definitely be your problem. We’re certainly not going to take the blame.” She picks up her buckets again. “So, what is it going to be?”

The guard is clearly angry, grinding his teeth, but he’s also afraid. Which emotion wins? He turns towards me.

“Fine. Don’t make a mess and get done as fast as possible.”

Fear wins. I nod my head and pick up my buckets. “Yes, Sir. Thank you. We’ll be done before you know it.” I head for the group of plants furthest from his desk, Pegues following behind. I hear the guard mumble something about “bitches” before his attention turns to a couple of men who have just entered the building.

I set my buckets down next to the chrome planter, as does Pegues. I glance back towards the guard who is no longer paying attention to us.

“I said that I’d handle it,” I whisper.

“And you were doing so well. Janet, you don’t beg an underling; you demand and you succeed. You may have to beg a Master but only as a last resort.”

It doesn’t matter how, we’re in and we need to get to work.

“I’ll start here, you go over there. Put a little soil in the bottle; add a squirt of water and a piece of litmus; cap the bottle, shake it; check the paper and then push a potion vial into the dirt.”

“Why bother with all that? We can simply distribute the vials.”

I look up and nod towards the cameras in the corners of the ceiling.

“Someone is watching so we need to put on a show.”

“Understood. I can certainly put on a show. Out of curiosity, will your potions help these plants?”

“Who knows? They’re all natural ingredients so they shouldn’t hurt.”

Pegues picks up a bucket and grabs some testing supplies.

“On my world, all poisons are also natural ingredients.” She walks towards the planter on the other side of the atrium.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“YES!! GOT HIM! Fax me the results immediately!”

I disconnect on that line and immediately reopen the line, dialing Ridgeway directly at the Winthrop Group. She picks up on the third ring.

“Ridgeway, it’s Thompson! The DNA test results confirm the samples are mother and two siblings. It’s got to be him!”

“We kinda knew that already, White.”

“Yes, of course, but now we have proof, something I can take to Lawson. If he’s too stupid to recognize the threat, then Hinkle will take action. Get your people ready. Any word from the ones searching for Thompson?”

“No, nothing at all. Maybe he did disappear for real.”

“No, not him. Get over here immediately. I’ll meet you in the lobby and vouch for you to get you past security. I should have the test results in hand by then and we both can go see Lawson.”

“The question is, will Lawson see us?”

“I don’t care at this point. Either he sees us or Hinkle does. I’d prefer Lawson, action will be taken quicker, but either one will do. Get over here as fast as you can.”

“On my way.” She disconnects, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I can’t move for a moment, temporarily overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. We are just minutes away from beginning a manhunt for possibly the most dangerous man on the planet and none of it would have happened if I hadn’t taken the initiative. Lawson and others may take the blame for letting it happen but I should get all the credit for sounding the alarm. I may even be put in charge of the manhunt. Who knows Alex Thompson better than I do?

That potential assignment sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine, jogging me into action. I hurry to the business hub on my floor to see if the fax has arrived from the lab. So far, the cover page and two of five pages have printed. I’ll go to the lobby, get Ridgeway and grab the fax on my way up to see Lawson.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Ppphhhhfffttt! Ppphhhhfffttttt!”

I hear some noise coming from where Pegues is working. I glance her way. She is looking straight at me. Once she catches my eye, she tips her head towards the front entrance. I slowly turn my head in that direction.

Leeanna is holding the door open as Johnathyn easily rolls the grossly overloaded dolly towards the entrance. She’s dressed in brown cargo shorts, a black polo shirt and low cut work shoes with white socks. Her lean, muscular legs are on display as are her generous breasts, broad shoulders and sculpted arms. She looks like she belongs in an outdoor fitness magazine. I ease towards the front desk just in case things go wrong.

“Can I help you, Miss?” the guard asks, a gleam of lust in his eyes.

“Yes, we are delivering these phone books. Where do you want them?”

“Is that the only thing you’re delivering, Honey?”

“Yes, just the books. Where do you want them?”

“Well, my lunch relief should show up pretty soon, you wait just a bit and I can help you deliver them throughout the building. What do you say to that, sweetie?”

Johnathyn sneaks a look my way and I give a quick nod.

“That’s acceptable. I’ll just go over here and make certain I have enough books.”

The guard laughs. “Honey, you’ve got enough books for the Empire State Building. Is the kid with you?” He points at Leeanna.

Leeanna stands up as tall as he can, puffing out his chest. “I am. She’s my … mother.”

“Your mother?” the guard says. “You know what a MILF is, kid?”

The insolent, crude dimwit! Of course the child has no idea what a MILF is. He better hope that Johnathyn also has no idea.

“No,” Leeanna answers.

The guard winks at Johnathyn. “I’ll explain it to your mom later.”

Johnathyn wheels the dolly to the side of the lobby where I am working so I return to the tree I had been testing. The guard’s eyes don’t leave her until two men approach the desk.

“What is this MILF he referred to?” Johnathyn whispers to me.

“You don’t want to know,” I whisper in return. “Just stay here and look busy. It shouldn’t be long now.”

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

The wait at the elevator seems interminable. I know I’ll reach the lobby long before Ridgeway does but I can’t sit around doing nothing. When the doors finally open, the car is empty, which means the trip could be a short one without any extra stops. Unfortunately, the elevator stops three more times before reaching the lobby. There are four people waiting to board as I get off. I step past them and walk about five feet before I realize that I recognize two of them. They’re Board Members.

I take up a position near the main door. I want to catch Ridgeway as soon as she enters. While I wait, three more Board Members walk in. I watch them as they cross the lobby and stop in front of the bank of elevators, right next to one of the large planters that are scattered throughout the lobby. There’s a woman, one of the service staff, working on the plants.

Wait. I think I know that woman. Ridgeway is still minutes away so I’ve got time to check this out. I slowly cross the lobby, back the way I came. The woman’s head is turned to the side and partly blocked from my view by a large fern. I pause and wait for her to look my way but she keeps her head down. There’s a metal trash can near me so I give a quick kick with my foot, causing a sharp, short bang. She can’t help turning her head towards the noise.

DAMN! It’s Thompson’s landlady! What is she doing here? I take a closer look at the other woman working on a different planter on the other side of the lobby but I can’t recall seeing her before. There’s a third woman squatting next to a large stack of phone books. She’s also looking my way. She stares at me, then slowly stands up … MY GOD! It’s that friend of the landlady! I rush to the front desk.

“That woman working on the plants, did a man come with her?” I ask the guard.

“Naw. The two of them came together about half an hour ago.”

“What about the one with the phone books?”

“It was just her and her kid. They’ve been here about five, ten minutes at most. Is there a problem?”

“You have no idea.”

I hurry back to the front doors and whip out my cell phone. Ridgeway is on speed dial. She answers on the second ring.

“What’s up, White?”

“He’s already here,” I hiss.

“Thompson?”

“Yes!”

“You’ve seen him?”

“No, but his landlady and her big friend are not more than sixty feet away from me disguised as a delivery woman and a greenhouse worker. That can’t be a coincidence!”

Ridgeway doesn’t say anything right away but then she replies.

“You're right, he’s there or soon will be and he’s got a plan. You can’t wait for me. I’m stuck in traffic. It’ll be at least another fifteen minutes. You gotta go. Now. Good luck. I’ll get there when I can.”

Rushing back to the elevators, I push the “up” button but nothing happens. Looking up at the floor indicators, all the cars are either at the upper floors or rising. I can’t wait. The stairs are on my left and my office is seven floors above me.

I am too old for this shit!

I hit the stairway door hard, banging it open and start climbing the stairs, instantly regretting my choice of shoes. I hadn’t planned on running all over hell and back today, I was going to have others do that, primarily Ridgeway. At that point, 3 inch heels made sense, giving me a little commanding height. By the third floor, I have to stop and take the damn shoes off. When I reach the seventh floor, I’m gasping for air with barely the strength to open the door out of the stairwell. As I approach the business hub for my fax, one of the secretaries reacts with shock.

“Ms. White! What’s wrong?”

I’m just about to answer that question when I hear the “ding” of the elevator stopping at our floor. A woman gets off but there are several other people inside. It’s going up!

“Hold that elevator!” I shout as I lurch towards it, clutching my papers and shoes to my chest. The door is shutting but someone inside shoots a hand out in time to stop the door and it slowly reopens.

“Thanks” I gasp, trying to get some air back into my burning lungs.

“No problem. Where to?” asks a man I don’t recognize.

“Top floor,” I answer as I steady myself with one hand against the sidewall, putting my left, then right shoe back on. There are two more stops before I reach my floor and I’m alone by then. I’ve managed to compose myself and straighten my hair a bit.

When the door opens, I dash towards Lawson’s office but am stopped by his PA, Jennings.

“I’m sorry, Ms. White,” she says. “Mr. Lawson is in a Board Meeting right now. It just started and he won’t be available until after 2:00.”

“This can’t wait.”

I turn and head for the Board meeting room, ignoring Jennings’s protests. I pause at the double doors just long enough to get a bit calmer and then I push them open. All eyes turn my way. Every one of the seventeen men in the room, with the exception of the waiter dressed in black with a white apron who’s in the middle of serving lunch, looks up at me.

“What is it, White?” growls Lawson.

So much for being calm. “I really hate to bother you, Sir …”

“Then don’t,” grumbles one of the other men but I continue.

“… but we have a major problem.”

“You had better not be wasting my time with that Alex Thompson crap again, White.”

“Yes, Sir. It is Alex Thompson and I’m afraid it’s not crap.” It’s never been crap, you idiot. “We have DNA tests that prove Alex Thompson and Lance Mastiff are one and the same.”

“Where’d you get the samples?”

“I acquired them myself.”

“I wasn’t aware our labs were doing those tests.”

“I didn’t use our labs. I thought it was important to get the results as soon as possible so I authorized outside testing.”

“So that I wouldn’t know about it?” Lawson asked.

“No, Sir. It was strictly a matter of speed. The samples only became available two days ago. Our labs wouldn’t expedite the tests.”

All the while Larson and I are talking, the others in the room continue to eat but they pay attention to what we say. They all seem to know who Alex Thompson is because they aren’t talking among themselves, asking each other quiet questions.

“With good reason, White. There’s no emergency here, it can wait until after this meeting.”

“No, Sir, it cannot wait. You don’t seem to grasp what is happening here.” That pissed him off, I even heard a couple of Board members gasp. I stole a glance over at Stewart Hinkle, who is making a show of eating his meal, calling the waiter over to refill his water glass, but I can tell he’s all ears. “Alex Thompson, a man from our world, has been performing absolutely impossible magic tricks in front of this building for weeks. What makes this noteworthy is that he shouldn’t even be in this world, he should be trapped over in the other world and he shouldn’t be able to manipulate magic in this world. Suddenly, a few days ago, he decides to disappear in the most spectacular fashion and has not been seen since. People have been searching for him without success. Now, right this minute, there are at least two of Thompson’s confederates in our lobby, disguised as common service workers. None of this can be a coincidence!”

“So, Ms. White, what is Thompson’s big scary plan?” asks Lawson, condescension dripping from the question.

“I don’t know but we must take precautions immediately. Everyone in this room is at risk, maybe everyone in this building. You need to contact the Winthrop Group and have them deploy the Assault Squad that’s on standby. This building and the people working here need protection.”

“Who put an Assault Squad on standby?”

Might as well fess up. “I did.”

“On what authority?”

“On my own authority.”

“Just like your authority to order outside testing of unauthorized samples that you acquired? White, I am sick and tired of your … infatuation with Alex Thompson. If you want to fuck the man, go fuck the man! Just don’t spend my money doing it!”

The pig! I can hear chortles coming from the other men in the room. There’s nothing but men in the room, not even a waitress when you would expect one instead of a waiter. I’m standing on the other side of the glass ceiling and no one is taking me seriously! Even Hinkle is only looking to use me if I can advance him past Lawson. It would serve these bastards right if Thompson does show up and … waiter?

OH GOD! My breath catches in my throat as I desperately look around the room, searching for the waiter. He’s standing in the corner, his back to the table, looking out the tall windows at the spectacular view of Central Park. His hands are behind his back, untying the apron.

It’s him! I can tell. The hair, those shoulders, the taper of the upper body down to that narrow waist and unbearably cute butt. What seconds ago was a servile attitude is now a commanding one and he hasn’t spoken yet. He hasn’t even turned around!

“Donna,” he says, his voice filling the room. “I’m glad you were able to get here before the lock down.” He raises his right hand and gives it a little twist. The doors to the room slam shut.

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

Keeping low profiles, all four of us continue to work in the lobby while workers begin to trickle out of the stairwell, swelling the crowd in the lobby. The elevators have shut down, as planned. It’s getting harder to see Pegues and Johnathyn. The guard left his desk and approaches the front door. The two women who were trying to open it step aside. He first pulls the handle twice then checks to see if electric lock is engaged.

“What the hell is going on?” he mutters.

The guard struggles to open the front doors but is having no luck. There is a small crowd of people standing inside by the door and another gathering outside. A woman I recognize forces her way to the top of the steps and pushes the intercom button.

“I’m Captain Ridgeway with the Winthrop Group. What’s going on?”

The guard pushes his button. “Damned if I know. This door just shut and I can’t get the electronic lock to budge. Manual override doesn’t kick in. The elevators are out but we’ve still got power. Phones aren’t working, not even cell phones. Even the emergency exits won’t open and that shouldn’t be possible!”

I catch Johnathyn’s eye from across the room. We smile and nod at each other. Pegues isn’t smiling.

* * * *** * * * *** * * *

“Who ARE you?” demanded Lawson.

I don’t answer right away. I’m reveling in the level of the belief in magic inside this building. It’s strong outside but inside, with all the people trapped, it’s almost intoxicating. It’s minimal compared to the smallest village in the other world but it’s enormous for this world. Well, time to get to work. I turn to face the Board of the Consortium. And invited guests.

“Come on, Lawson. Use that Harvard education of yours. After all the warnings Donna White gave you, you still don’t know? No wonder the company’s going down the toilet.”

“Alex Thompson, no doubt.”

I bow theatrically. “At your service. Well … not really, I just always wanted to say that.”

“How did you get in here?”

“Magic. How else? Not buying it, huh? Okay. I picked the lock to the door on the roof, came down through the floor above this one, entered the back door to the kitchenette by the Service Elevator and convinced the caterer that I had been hired to serve today.”

“How did you get to the roof in the first place?”

“That one was magic. I jumped from the top of the apartment complex next door.”

“Bullshit!” one of Board members exclaims.

“No, it’s true but believe me or not, I’m here now.”

“What is it you want from us?” asks Lawson.

“Excellent question, Lawson! Straight to the point! I’ll make my reply short and simple.”

They had a laptop and LCD projector set up for a presentation so I walk over, turn everything on and insert a flash drive into the USB port of the laptop. Everything loads quickly so I begin the PowerPoint presentation, snapping my fingers to advance the slides.

“Gentlemen. I’ve read all the memos, all the emails. You know, or think you know, who I am and who I was in the other world. Alexia, the witch Queen. I killed my predecessor, Opulessa, and a few others. I know that some of you here today have military backgrounds and that you’ve killed people yourselves, all in the line of duty, of course. It changes you when you kill another person. Others don’t understand that.”

Some of the men nod their heads slightly. They know.

“I also know that the loss of the other world as a resource has practically crippled this company. Lawson put too many eggs in one basket and then I took away the basket. Not good planning, Lawson. I also know what you all have done to hide this fact from Wall Street and your shareholders.”

All the time I’ve been talking, I’ve been displaying copies of all the documents I’ve been referring to, with highlighted sections. Nothing stays on the screen long enough to read in full but long enough for them to recognize that I have the goods.

Lawson is clearly angry but he’s kept it in check, even when I pick at him personally. I let a few more documents roll by without comment before he’s had enough.

“Yes, yes. You know all our secrets. That’s what you do, isn’t it, illegally break into computer systems. Steal proprietary information. I believe you are still wanted by both the New York police and the FBI. Perhaps we should call them right now?”

“Go ahead. Give it a whirl.”

He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me. I push the phone sitting on the table towards him. He picks up the handset and pushes the button for an open line but nothing happens. He tries another line but still nothing. He tries all the lines repeatedly before finally hanging up.

“It’s dead” he says, stating the obvious.

“As are all the cell phones.”

Immediately, every man in the room and White go for their phones, digging them from pants pockets, off belt clips or out of suit coat pockets. I give them a few moments to confirm the truth.

“How did you do this?” asks Stewart Hinkle, the CFO.

“You know, Stew. Magic. This whole building is locked down. Every door, every floor, every elevator. No ones moving until we’re done today.”

“So what the hell do you want?!” shouts one of the Board.

“Just one more set of documents and I’ll tell you. Some, but not all of you, are also aware that Lawson hired the Winthrop Group to kill my mother and brother. It took me a long time to find the proof of that but I got it.”

I let those documents stay on the screen longer for the benefit of those who hadn’t seen them.

“So here’s the deal, boys. I’m going back to the other world. I’ve got business to take care of. You can be part of that business. If we reach an agreement, I’ll reopen that world to the Consortium.”

That statement was greeted by optimistic murmurs.

“What’s the catch?” asked Lawson. “What is this going to cost us?”

“Likely less than before, certainly in direct payments.”

“How is that possible? You think you’ve killed off the people you’d otherwise need to bribe?”

“You might be right there, Lawson, but I’m looking for a different kind of deal. You won’t need to bribe inspectors or any other authorities because I’m giving you a completely free hand except for a couple of things. No debt labor of any kind. You pay competitive wages. Also, no Eminent Domain. You want land, you pay for it. Market rates.”

“And what do you get?”

“Me personally? Nothing. Whatever the Government gets will be in kind, primarily medical supplies and equipment to start but that will change over time, at least I hope. Oh, I forgot to mention, no Winthrop Group. You use our security, you don’t get your own army and we don’t want your guns, thank you very much. I’m going to do my best to get rid of the ones we already have.”

“No guns?” Lawson sneers. “Isn’t that a bit idealistic?”

“I didn’t say ‘no guns.’ I said none of your guns. There’s plenty of home grown stuff to go around. They need them. You should see what they call a wolf. I’d use a rocket propelled grenade on one of those things.”

Some of the Board members are actually smiling. They don’t find this offer to be too bad. In fact, it could be better for them than the first time around.

“What else?” asks Hinkle. “There’s always something else.”

“You’re right” I reply. I snap my fingers and four photos appear on the screen. “I’m sure you all recognize the first gentleman, you’re beloved leader, Lawson over there. Lawson was the one who ordered the deaths of my family. The second man is, or was, First Minister Dupree, appointed leader of the government of Queen Opulessa. He’s the man who requested my family be killed. The other two are the Winthrop Group employees who actually did the job. One drove the car that ran them down and the other was the getaway driver. Frankly, I’m not certain who did what. Doesn’t really matter. As for the something else that Mr. Hinkle asked about …”

I pause and scan the room. There’s a lot of nervous people sitting around the table but Lawson isn’t one of them. We’ll see about that.

“… Ms. White’s report concerning what I did about First Minister Dupree is accurate if lacking in detail. For those who haven’t read that report, Ms. White, would you please tell the Board what I did to the man who requested that my family be killed?”

She was still standing near Lawson, the same place she was when I introduced myself to the Board. She squares her shoulders and faces the table.

“Certainly. You turned him into a pig. A little pink squealing pig.”

“Things always go better with bacon no matter where you are,” I add.

A few of the Board are horrified. They likely didn’t know. Others look sick but not surprised. They knew.

“The exact fates of the other three I leave to this Board’s discretion. My minimum requirement is life in prison without parole. If the Board wishes to be less tolerant, that’s up to them. A death sentence is always an option, either public or private, but as long as Lawson and his hired killers at least spend the rest of their lives in jail, the Consortium can return to my world and bankruptcy is avoided.” I smile. “It seems like a small price to pay.”

Lawson stands up.

“If you think for a moment that I am willingly going to jail for life, you are out of your fucking mind!”

“I was so hoping you’d say that, Mr. Lawson,” I say, brightly. I reach out with my open right hand and then slowly close it. As my fingers curl into my palm, Lawson, grunts in pain, his eyes wide with shock. He clutches at his chest, coughing and gagging several times before collapsing to the floor as my hand closes tightly into a fist. No one takes a step towards him to help in any way. Good.

“What did you do to him?” demands Hinkle.

“I stopped his heart. He’s not dead. Yet. It’s surprisingly simple to interrupt the electrical signals which trigger the muscle contractions that drive the beating of the heart. He’s got about two minutes before brain damage begins. So, do we have a deal? I don’t care how you guys do it. You can pay them to go to jail, hire a hit man, draw straws; it’s all cool with me. Just so you know, if we don’t reach a deal, I’m giving all those emails and memos to the media. You may have influence over The Wall Street Journal but the tabloid press will just eat this up. So will the SEC. I also don’t restart Lawson’s heart. I realize that it would make life a lot easier for you to blame a dead man for all the wrong doing but I couldn’t let that happen. As I said, it’s surprisingly easy to stop a heart, even several at one time. What’s your decision, guys?”

The smell of panic is getting stronger by the second. I’ve just threatened their fortunes, their freedom and their lives in less than twenty seconds. I’ve taken away their leader and put his life at risk, though I don’t really think they like him very much. No one rushed to help him when he dropped to the floor. Still, it’s tough to watch a man die before your eyes, particularly when you could be next. There’s a lot of shouting but there’s also hurried discussions taking place. Hinkle seems to be at the center of most of it. After about fifty seconds, he waives his arms and shouts “QUIET! QUIET! EVERYONE PLEASE!”

The room falls silent. Hinkle takes charge.

“Mr. Thompson. I want to be certain about your offer. We get sole, unlimited access to your world but we will have to hire employees at local wage rates and if we want to buy or rent land, we pay the market rates. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“In addition, we do not have to bribe any local authorities.”

“I guarantee it. Someone demands a bribe, you tell me and I’ll handle it.”

“And you want nothing but medical supplies?”

“Right now. There could be other things, mostly technology related, but no weapons. Probably plumbing supplies too. I’d like the Palace to have flush toilets.”

“And no troops on the ground.”

“Absolutely correct.”

“What about environmental and labor regulations?”

“None whatsoever. Water quality, air quality, your call. No inspectors. No rules.”

“However, if there is no agreement, you turn us all in to the SEC and release our documents to the media.”

“Yep.”

“And possibly take vengeance against more than Lawson and the two Winthrop Group employees.”

“That and let Lawson die in the next thirty seconds.”

“Of course.” He turns to face the Board Members. “I don’t really see any other choice, gentlemen. The company desperately needs access to those resources and we also need to avoid any bad publicity and possible civil and criminal penalties. It’s clear from those documents that other people were aware of the plans for the deaths of those poor innocent people, though those revelations today were shocking to me. I move that we accept Mr. Thompson’s offer.”

“I second that motion,” says a Board member who’s name was on the distribution list for the memos about the deaths of my family.

“Any discussion?” asks Hinkle. No one makes a move. “Then I call the question. A show of hands please, all in favor?” All hands go up. “All opposed?” No hands. Hinkle extends his hand towards me. “I believe we have an agreement, Mr. Thompson.” I take his hand firmly in mine and shake it as Lawson begins to cough and gasp for air.

“I hope we have a long and profitable relationship, Mr. Hinkle.”

“As do I, Mr. Thompson.”

We both look down at Lawson as he pushes himself up into a sitting position with his left hand while he rubs his chest with his right.

“What the hell happened to me?” he groans as people begin to gather round him. No one offers him a hand up. “What’s going on?” he shakily demands, desperation clear on his face.

I reach into my pant’s pocket and remove the radio I had used this morning. I push the talk button.

“Come on up,” I order. The radio beeps, confirming receipt of my message. I drop it back into my pocket and bend down closer to Lawson. “Looks like you’ve been sold down the river, Lawson.”

“What?”

“While you were out, your Board accepted my offer.”

“That’s impossible! I’m the Chairman and the Chief Executive Officer! Nothing happens here without my approval!”

“Maybe they need to make some changes?” I suggest, glancing at Hinkle. He catches my look and nudges the Board member who seconded his motion with an elbow. The man quickly cleared his throat.

“ Aakkhhmm. I move that we accept the resignation of Terence Lawson as Chief Executive Officer and Chairman of the Board of the Consortium.”

“Seconded!” shouts someone at the back of the room.

“What a minute!” screams Lawson. “I haven’t …”

“Call the question!” shouts another voice.

“The question has been called,” says Hinkle’s friend. “All in favor?” The hands fire into the air. “All opposed?” The hands drop like the blade of a guillotine.

Hinkle is elected to the CEO and Chairman positions just as quickly despite Lawson’s loud but ignored protests. As the Board congratulates Hinkle, Lawson sits by himself off to the side of the room, head in his hands.

“Looks like you’ve been abandoned, Lawson,” I observe.

He slowly looks up at me. “Why?” he whispers.

“You really have to ask? You killed my family!”

“But it wasn’t personal. It was just business.”

I’m appalled. “And that makes it okay? You can kill people if you can justify it on the balance sheet?”

“Better that than by some stupid drive by shooting. At least someone profits from the deaths. I am responsible for the jobs of thousands of people. Your family’s deaths increased the profits of this corporation, improving the lives of those thousands of people, growing the economy. They accomplished more in death than they ever would have during their pitiful, useless lives.”

He’s making this too easy. “Increasing the value of your stock options, no doubt.”

“And what is wrong with that? I make the decisions, I should reap the benefits.”

“And the losses. I guess you should be happy to know that your death will also benefit the corporation. Congratulations! You’ve been promoted to cannon fodder. Enjoy.”

“Don’t be so damned smug, Thompson. You go back over there and become Queen, you’ll end up doing exactly what I did. You’ll be deciding who lives and who dies for the good of the country. That assumes you give a damn about that universe. Then it’ll be who lives or dies to benefit you.”

“That may be true, Lawson, but I won’t be killing innocent people.”

Lawson grins maniacally. “There are no innocent people, Thompson,” he guffaws. “The sooner you learn that, the easier your life will be. It was a revelation that changed mine.”

I can imagine. This bastard is nuts! Bat shit crazy! I’m done with him. I return my attention to Hinkle as he approaches me.

“When can we put out agreement into effect? We need access to those resources as soon as possible.”

“Well it won’t be instantaneous. There are a few wrinkles I need to iron out when I get back before you can return.”

“This won’t help us if we go bankrupt before you ‘iron out’ those wrinkles. Nor will it help you.”

“I understand but you need to understand that this isn’t a slam dunk.”

“What happens if you can’t deliver, Thompson?”

“Then I take you all down with me, Hinkle.”

“That’s why it makes sense to send the Winthrop Group back.”

“No, because I don’t want them and they can’t help, not in the long run.”

“In the long run, we’re all dead. I need results now.”

“Tough shit. If I can’t work things out over there, you’re not going back anytime soon anyway. I’m your best bet. You live up to your end and I’ll live up to mine.”

There’s a knock on the Board room double doors. Good timing. I sweep my hand to the left and the doors swing open.

“Gentlemen, allow me to introduce my representative in this universe. This is my good friend and ally, Mirantha Pegues.”

Pegues is still dressed in her gardener disguise but she immediately crosses the room and grabs Hinkle’s hand.

“I look forward to working with you, Sir.”

Hinkle eyes her warily. “Are you from … over there?”

“Yes, indeed I am, but I’ve spent quite a bit of time over here before now.”

“But, you aren’t really … I mean, you were born a … I’ve never met …” says Hinkle, stumbling over his words. I step in.

“Mirantha is a woman over here and a man over there, just as I’m a man over here and a woman over there. You get used to it. More importantly, Mirantha is extremely clever and a very good judge of character. She’s also slightly corrupt.”

“What was that?” asks Hinkle.

“She’s slightly corrupt. She has her price. She can be bribed.”

Hinkle appears confused. “Why on earth would you tell someone something like that? Why would you even want someone untrustworthy to represent you?”

“I’m not saying Mirantha is untrustworthy. We have an understanding. She’s human, just like anyone else. She has her weaknesses and strengths. Her strengths are intelligence and a devious mind. She can smell a con a mile away. She also has a weakness for the finer things in life and a willingness to bend the rules in order to get them. Bend the rules, not break them. I know that you and your people will test her as soon as I’m gone so I might as well be upfront about it. Mirantha will only go so far because she knows what I will and won’t stand for. She also knows what happens if she crosses that line.”

“What happens?” he asks.

“Terrible things,” Mirantha answers. “Inconceivable things. Unavoidable things.”

“You see, Hinkle,” I say. “I’d rather have a smart crook watching my interest than a foolish honest man. With the crook, I know I’ll lose a little bit but with the honest man, I could lose it all.”

“Why not hire a smart honest man?”

“Good luck finding that combination. You usually get a crook who’s smart enough to appear to be an honest man. I’ll go for the sure thing with Mirantha. As for your representative over there, I understand that it’s your choice, one hundred percent your choice. I wouldn’t think to tell you who to select.”

“But?”

“I think Donna White and I have a good working relationship.”

“Like hell we do!” White protests. “You threatened to kill all of us!”

“And you let Dupree try to kill me. I don’t hold it against you. We know where we stand with each other. That would take time we don’t have to spare with someone new.”

“I will consider your suggestion, Mr. Thompson.”

“That’s all I can expect, Mr. Hinkle. Do we need to put this in writing?”

“For what purpose? Neither of us can take it to court for enforcement. We will need to trust each other to comply.”

“Trust. An interesting concept in these circumstances. Tell ya’ what. In the spirit of trust and openness, I’ll let you in on a little secret. You and your people would likely have figured it out yourselves eventually but this way, we save time and maybe some lives.”

“What are you talking about, Mr. Thompson?”

“Didn’t you think it was strange that I was agreeing to give the Consortium a free hand on environmental issues? Given my history?”

“I treated it as a gift horse.”

“It wasn’t. I’ve decided that the best way to protect my world and people from environmental abuse is to make you, your Board and your families’ breathe the same air and drink the same water as found in your mines and other projects.”

The Board members begin to loudly object. Hinkle waives them into silence. He turns to confront me.

“You can’t do that, Thompson!”

“When you say ‘I can’t,’ are you saying that I shouldn’t or that I’m incapable? If you’re saying I shouldn’t, you’re wrong. It’s equality for all. You get treated just as you treat others. It’s all in your hands. You control it completely. You give them a pristine workplace, you get a pristine workplace. And home. You give them a cesspool, that’s what you get too. As far as my ability to deliver, I suggest you open one of those sealed bottles of water.”

Hinkle slowly reaches out with his left hand, picking an unopened bottle off the table next to him. He grabs the cap with his right hand, first cracking the seal then removing the cap. The room quickly fills with a sulfurous, eye watering odor. Hinkle screws the cap back on but the foul air remains as some of the Board members begin to cough.

“What, in God’s name, is that?” Hinkle demands.

“That is the water that was flowing out of your mine at Shellcrest.” I hold out my hand towards Mirantha. She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out two air filter masks. We both quickly pull them over our mouths and noses. “This is what the air was like during full production.”

Instantly, the room becomes dark and murky, filled with thick, choking smoke. Everyone in the room begins to gag and cough, doubled over and gasping for non-existent air. Even my eyes begin to water and I’m wearing a mask. I let it go on for a few more seconds and then I clear the air. The coughing continues but begins to lessen as the men recover. I remove my mask.

“I can fill the air and water around each and every one of you with the pollutants but hide the odor and color. The workers in this building, your families, your respective mistresses, yourselves will all eat, drink and breathe this crap without even being aware of it. However, you take good care of my world and my subjects, we’re cool. This is not subject to negotiation, this is how it is. You come to my world, you hire my people, you take my resources; you’ll reap what you sow. You don’t come, fine. I release my info to the media; maybe I make the same offer to one of your competitors.”

Lawson begins to laugh, quietly at first but quickly grows louder. Hinkle grows tired of it.

“What is so damn funny, Lawson?” he demands.

“Not such a good deal after all, is it Hinkle? Life’s not so easy at the top, particularly when you have such big shoes to fill. You’ve destroyed this company!”

“Unlike you, of course. This is your mess, Lawson. I’m just cleaning it up the best way possible.” He reaches down and pushes a button on the phone system console but there’s no response. He looks at me. “Are the damn elevators working?”

I flick my wrist. “They are now.”

He pushes the button again. This time there’s a response.

“Yes, Sir! Is everyone up there okay?”

“Yes, everything is fine. Send security up here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Lawson is no longer laughing.

“Stewart, listen to me! This is our last chance to save this company, to save all our lives! You’ve got to have Security take them into custody! You’ve got to call the Winthrop Group and get an Assault Team over here NOW! It’s the only choice!”

I get up into his face.

“Do you really think that any of them would stand a chance against me, Lawson?”

He starts to swing at me but collapses before completing the punch.

“Mirantha. A little help?” I ask.

We each grab an arm, lift him off the floor and drop him in a chair. Mirantha removes her apron and I remove the ties, using them to bind Lawson’s wrists and forearms to the armrests, then I restart his heart. His head jerks upright, eyes blinking.

“Hinkle, Pegues and I are leaving. I’ll let you know when you can bring your people back to my world. I assume that I won’t need to kill anyone as I leave, present company not excluded.”

“None of our people will try to stop you, Thompson. Just make certain you keep your part of our bargain.”

“That’s the plan.”