Trish’s eyes widened in horror, then she sobbed violently and rocketed straight upwards. She didn’t stop climbing until the air started to get thin and the tears froze to her cheeks. She screamed out at the top of her lungs,

“Oh Daddy! Greg! I’m so afraid! I… don’t know what to do.”

She hiccupped, sobbed and then passed out. Greg took over before they began free falling and gently guided his frightened love homeward.

When Greg got them home to the AERI, Trish was still in shock, so Greg remained in control, made a cup of chamomile tea and ran a hot bath. He had some difficulty manoeuvring in Trish’s body, but he had to get her past this shock. He was afraid she might withdraw or worse, do something foolish. He placed the cup by the steaming tub and lowered their body into the hot water. She started to awaken, so he relinquished control of their body to her and felt her heaving sobs.

“Come on Love,” he spoke softly. “Please, you need to breathe for both of our sakes. Please try to take deep breaths.”

“I’ll… I’ll… try,” she gasped.

Shortly, Trish got the sobbing under control and managed to drink some of the tea.

“Greg?”

“Yes Trish?”

“I’m sorry,” she began slowly. “I don’t know what came over me. I just felt so betrayed. Not by you, but by the others. The SIX were supposed to be the best humanity had to offer, and then they go and do this. I-it’s just so brutal. I don’t understand why they aren’t like you, or Daddy?”

“Sweetheart, I know it’s hard to comprehend, but you’ve studied history, you’ve see that the human race is a violent aggressive species,” Greg paused to gather his thoughts. “As I may have mentioned before, individually people are generally good, but the group dynamic changes all of that. It makes it easy to revert to the mob mentality of which we’ve spoken. I’m sure that the other suit recipients are good people. They may have just been frustrated by situations that up until recently they couldn’t change or affect for the better. Now all of a sudden they have the power to affect the course of events and have gone overboard with it.” He took a deep breath, “I’m sure that by now, your siblings have fully bonded with their hosts and are having a restraining influence on them. One thing you’ll learn about life is there’s always hope.”

Trish wiped their eyes and managed a weak smile,

“Really?”

“Really and truly Trish. Take Franklin Island here, for example. Did you know that during the 1990’s, the Provincial Government wanted to open the old growth timber here for commercial purposes? It took me some wrangling, a whole lot of money and a lawsuit just to get conservatorship of this island. But it’s a good example of one person making a difference. I certainly didn’t endear myself to the ruling party of the time, but I couldn’t stand by and let these forests be raped,” Greg smiled as he recalled the thrill of the fight, “although I was the darling of the environmental crowd for a while.”

“I’d expect nothing less of you Greg,” Trish smiled back. “You were a hero before we ever met.”

He blushed, slightly flustered by her praise.

“Um… I guess, but my point is, that lately people all over the world are feeling powerless at the hands of corporate and governmental interests and they are desperately trying to wrest back control of their lives and the planet. Sometimes it may seem futile, but sometimes it works too. What The SIX did was stupid and extreme, but it honestly may have seemed to be the only option left to them.”

“I guess so,” she allowed, “but they really didn’t think it through, did they?”

“That’s because most people act first and regret later,” Greg grimaced. “I remember a comic book I read in the `80’s called ‘Damage Control’. It was about a company that cleaned up after superhero battles. It was a fascinating concept, because nobody tends to think about the aftermath of his or her actions. Consequences are rarely considered in the heat of emotion. All I can tell you is that the history of man is based on emotional responses, and logic rarely enters the fray,” Greg gave his head a small shake.

“Do you think that the corporations are evil, then?” Trish asked suddenly. “What about the governments? Were The SIX right to attack?”

“Well Trish,” Greg had to think about his responses carefully, “I used to believe that there was a cabal that controlled everything from behind the curtains… an Illuminati or a Skull and Bones. But no one has ever proven the existence of the Illuminati and I believe Skull and Bones is just another rich man’s club. What I really think drives most of the governments and corporations is the pursuit of profit. They’re like the Ferengi from Star Trek, obsessed with the bottom line to the exclusion of all else.”

“I think I see,” she nodded slowly. “You’ve certainly given me much to think about.” Trish got out of the bath and drained it. Drying off, she headed to the bedroom and lay down on the bed. She was asleep in moments and Greg slipped into a deep sleep shortly thereafter.

When Greg awoke, they were still in Trish’s form. It was an odd awakening, but when had anything in his life been ordinary in the last seven months? Trish was already sitting at the network interface and was gobbling down data like there was no tomorrow. Out of the corner of their eye he noticed a cup of coffee on the warmer and reached over for it.

Aaah, he thought, that’s better. Even with their enhanced systems, Greg still had trouble functioning properly in the morning without caffeine.

“Morning Trish, what’re you working on?” he greeted her.

“Good morning back, good coffee?” she rejoined. “I’ve been trying to integrate the information you gave me yesterday and it’s irritating the hell out of me,” she grumped. “There’s no logical power flow between the corporations and the governments. In fact, they both jealously guard their territories like animals. It does seem like there is another functioning power structure on Earth, but it’s nebulous. Like a ghost in the machine.”

“And what have you got against machine ghosts, Spooky?” Greg joked weakly.

“Ha… ha… ha,” she said sarcastically. “Anyway, you were very right about these Illuminati or whatever you want to call them. There’s lots of information about them available, but most of it is spurious and apocryphal, a good deal of it is labelled the ravings of ‘conspiracy theorists’. Once you start to sort through the data with recursive algorithms though, a startling pattern emerges. There are a small group of numbered companies around the world who seem to have acquired controlling interests in most of the Fortune 1000 Corporations,” Trish scowled.

“OK, I’ll admit that’s curious,” Greg allowed, “but does it necessarily mean the Illuminati? I understand the concept of Occam’s Razor, you know, the simplest hypothesis and all, but we can’t always just jump to the easiest answers, not with as important a discovery as this is,” Greg posited.

“Well, I suppose that some of the activity could be legitimate, the functioning of normal corporate traffic and finances. However, the pattern shows about a 90 percent controlling split between 20 companies or individuals,” she trailed off.

Greg gave a low, thoughtful whistle,

“Trish, we’re really gonna have to tread carefully here,” he cautioned. “We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with before we can make any moves against these,” he made quotation gestures in the air, “‘Illuminati’. If they really exist, they didn’t get all of that power by asking for it nicely. We are really gonna have to keep a low profile from now on. These people could be the ones behind our little visit the other night, and if that’s true, they can order the US military around like security guards,” Greg warned ominously.

“Oh Greg,” she said, “do you think that they could be behind the explosion in Switzerland? The one that… that…” Greg felt Trish’s sorrow and rage rising again and did his best to calm her. He felt a strange buzzing in his head and suddenly found himself looking at a visual representation of their limbic centre. It was awash with frantic activity. He tried reaching out with his thoughts and soothing it. It seemed to work as slowly he felt her rage cooling to an icy logic. He was astounded with the newfound control they were gaining over their neural activity.

“If it was them,” she said coldly, “and Father is really dead, they’ll pay. They’ll all pay very dearly.”

"That’s right Trish,” he said calmingly, “we’ll make them pay for the loss and pain they’ve caused you and your siblings’, but right now I need your help. I need to know how far along the integration of our mind is. I just discovered that I can control portions of our brain.”

Trish activated the nanomechs’ system monitor and Greg was startled to see it appear in front of their eyes. Distracted, Trish quickly resumed her analytical commentary,

“It seems that the bugs have been busy since we started using full systems. The monitor shows an integration of nearly…”

“75 percent,” Greg interrupted. “Yes, I can see it.”

“Greg! This is fantastic! It seems that communications, language and judgement are all that’s left to do,” Trish said excitedly.” That’s the frontal lobes, so there are still several billion connections to duplicate, but at this rate, the integration should be finished by month’s end. We’ll be whole, finally!” the joy was evident in her voice.

“Well then, it looks like I have to wait until April to give you a piece of my mind,” he quipped. Trish actually laughed aloud at that, and Greg was elated to hear it.

“It seems that you’ve already given me most of it and it’s so pristine and unused and… dusty,” she giggled. “Seriously though, you should be able to see the file structure by now. I don’t know if you can command it, as you don’t seem to be in the root directory yet. We should start to review Father’s mission profile and operations files as soon as possible,” she paused and frowned. “This won’t be easy, but I’m in the process of prepping some of the lesser used areas of the organosynth tissues for a memory dump. That way we will have more raw data collection storage in the secondary neural net for genetic material and such. Here goes.”

Greg felt the buzzing dizziness again momentarily and suddenly remembered things he’d never even heard of before.

“Oh, this is so exciting,” Trish chattered. “There’s so much more processing power here than there was in the net or even in Father’s systems. I’ve moved most of my neural processes into our brain now and I’ll organize a file system later tonight.”

Greg blinked and sneezed violently. It was overwhelming, he had more thoughts and ideas in just a few milliseconds that normally would have taken him a year or more to develop properly, before today. He felt a rising tide of blackness take him as his consciousness receded.

He came back to a state of awareness five minutes later and none too soon, as Trish was near panic. He rubbed the back of his head and groaned.

“Goddess, that was intense! Would you please warn a guy next time you decide to dump an exabyte of information on him?” he grinned weakly.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry Dearest,” she sounded genuinely contrite. “I should have trickled it in. Um, that was closer to a zettabyte.”

“A zettabyte… that’s 10 to the power of 21, isn’t it?” Greg froze. “Uh, how did I know that?”

“Yes Greg, the zettabyte is 10 to the 21st and it seems the capacity of our merged brains will balance out around 4 yottabytes, or 4 by 10 to the power of 24.”

“Goddess, it must look like the July 1st up there. How’re the heat levels?” he asked worriedly.

“Well within expected tolerances with the cooling systems that are in place now. We’re superconducting at 37˚C, a new world record, I might add,” she sounded smug now.

Trish,” he groaned, “you’ll have to forgive me, but I’m having a really hard time with this. I thought I knew what to expect, but this,” he gestured wildly with their hands, “this is beyond my wildest dreams. Kiddo, I’m gonna need a hell of a lot of help with this one.”

“I’m here my True Other,” now it was Trish’s turn to be soothing. “I always will be, believe me. Greg, can you explain something to me?” she changed the subject suddenly.

If I can…” he sounded slightly unsure.

“Twice now you’ve used the term ‘goddess’ in the last five minutes, and several times since we’ve met, why is that?” she wondered.

“You know something?” he blinked. “I’m really not sure. I guess it’s a holdover from one of my siblings, she was neo-pagan and I guess it kind of rubbed off. I have always considered the Earth mother a more suitable deity then a masculine godhead. Much more creative.”

“Well, that makes sense to me and it’s a much gentler pejorative and it suits your personality, my gentle man,” she smiled.

They stood up carefully while Trish cleared the network and restored the spyware.

“Well, we should change,” Greg suggested. Trish closed their eyes and triggered Alter Ego and Greg heard the drawstring in their track pants snap as he suddenly found himself standing in his own form again. Trish had a very different definition of changing, it would seem.

By early afternoon, they had worked out a tentative plan of action. After Greg had showered and shaved, he retrieved the two phone messages that had been left for him. The first was from the FedEx office in town informing him of a large delivery for pick-up, the second was from the post office in the city hall. There were a number of official documents ready for pick-up. Because they were registered, a signature would be required. That was fine and dandy, seeing how Trish had also set up a post office box for her own deliveries, a parcel run was necessary. Grabbing a quick sandwich, they headed out the door.

An hour later, they pulled up beside Greg’s Rover and drove into town, heading towards the FedEx depot. Pulling into the freshly ploughed lot, Greg backed the truck up to the loading dock and went inside.

“Afternoon, I got a phone message about some parcels. My name’s Greg Howard.” The clerk at the desk looked up the information on the computer as Greg casually rested his hand on the terminal. Trish smiled mentally and accessed the network, FedEx was a big tap to have. She made a note to compliment him on his quick thinking later.

“Oh yes,” the clerk glanced up. “There it is Mr. Howard, 20 large boxes, 8 small ones and 2 mailers. It’s all C.O.D. and comes to $1858.49. How will you be paying?”

Greg winced inwardly.

“Debit, please.” He handed over his card and accepted the pad from the young woman. With the transaction completed, he signed the necessary forms, went to his truck and opened the back. He thought about the amount of parcels and folded the rear seats down as well as the passenger seat. The crew from the dock loaded the truck quickly and Greg was soon on his way downtown. Pulling up in front of Town Hall, he fed the meter and went to the postal station on the main floor. There were several Priority Post envelopes waiting and a medium sized box. He signed for the registered letters and turned to leave. The postmistress called after him,

“Oh, wait please Mr. Howard. There’s an envelope addressed care of you for a Miss Tricia Saber and there are two messages from upstairs. One is asking you to go up to the Documents office and one is from the Mayor’s office asking if you’d care to stop by before you leave.”

“Thank you very much, Ms. …” he smiled and waited.

“Just Carol is fine Sir…” she smiled back.

“Oh, well thank you, ‘Just Carol’,” he grinned and made a half-bow. She smiled and winked as he headed across the lobby to the elevators. Greg got off at the third floor and asked the guard for directions to the Documents office. The guard pointed the way and Greg politely shook his hand. Another person with access, filed away for later use. At the office, they waited their turn in line and approached the clerk.

"Good afternoon, Carol in the post office gave me a message to come up here. My name’s Howard.”

“Of course, Mr. Howard. One moment please,” the clerk fished out a manila envelope and a receipt form. “Sign here and here. That will be $125.00. Cash or debit?”

“Debit please,” Greg winced again and heard Trish giggle. He handed over his card and punched his information into the pad.

tting… spensive… oor… rling

“Are you alright Mr. Howard?” the clerk asked. “You’ve gone white as a sheet.”

“Um,” Greg cleared his throat, “yes, I’m fine… uh, do you have my patent documents in yet?”

“I’ll check that for you Sir, one moment,” she bustled off and Greg quickly sub vocalised to Trish,

“Did you just say something?”

“No, why?” she responded.

“I thought I heard you say something,” he sounded puzzled, “but not with my ears. It was like ‘poor darling getting expensive’.”

“But I didn’t say that out loud!” she exclaimed. “I was just thinking about how the last three days were very expensive for you. Wait a minute, you heard that?”

“Sort of,” he said slowly, “it was, I don’t know, all choppy and faint. But it was inside my head!”

“Oh wow! Wait, what am I thinking now?” Trish was excited.

“Didn’t get anything that time,” he said. “Whoops, here she comes.” Greg composed himself and smiled.

“Nothing yet, Mr. Howard,” the clerk said apologetically. “If you’ll leave your phone number, we’ll call as soon as they come in. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, just a little hungry, I guess,” Greg said by way of explanation. “Thanks for your concern.” He extended his hand and filed another pattern. Going back to the floor guard, he asked directions to the Mayor’s office. He was politely directed to the fifth floor and told to see the receptionist. They took the elevator to the Executive floor.

reg… ca… ou… hea… me?

“A little,” he admitted. “I think you said ‘can you hear me’. Please Trish don’t strain yourself, just let the bugs do their work and whisper in my ear for now. And please, don’t try to make me laugh. I’ve heard that our Madam Mayor has a limited sense of humour,” he admonished her.

“OK, Spoilsport,” she chuckled, “this is exciting and we have to be all proper. Pooh!” Greg smiled at her show of petulance and asked the receptionist to announce him to the Mayor.

He was shown in promptly as the woman behind the desk rose and extended her hand. Her Honour, Mayor Sophie Wallace was a career politician who knew how the world worked and had laboured hard to get to the position she currently occupied. She also knew an opportunity when she saw one and Doctor Greg Howard was one she could scarcely pass up, especially since she was planning to run for parliament in the next Federal election. Greg shook her hand as she examined the man who was working to make the world energy efficient. He wasn’t unpleasant looking, but not exactly her type either. There was just something slightly unfocused about him that she could not pin down. Just another run of the mill scientist, she concluded.

“Welcome Dr. Howard, thank you for visiting, a drink, coffee?” she greeted him warmly.

“Thank you Madame Mayor, bourbon if you have it, coffee if not,” he replied. The drinks were poured and they were seated comfortably. Greg took a sip.

“I must say that this is excellent bourbon, Your Honour. To what do I owe the pleasure of your invitation?” The Mayor smiled sincerely.

“Just Sophie, please Doctor. I simply wanted to meet an actual hero, that’s all.” Greg stiffened again and Trish laughed and whispered,

“Not a HERO, a hero, Silly.” Greg composed himself and smiled back.

“Well, I really don’t consider myself a hero, Sophie,” he smiled as sincerely insincere as the politician had. “I just wanted to give back to the planet. That’s what AERI is all about. As a matter of fact, I’d been meaning to make an appointment with you soon.”

“Really?” Mayor Wallace asked.

“Really?” Trish echoed.

“Yes, I have a new design for wind generators and I’d like to work with the town to set up several and supplement the Parry Sound electricity grid. No cost to you, the Province budgets AERI for these experiments. But you would still have to handle the bid process,” Greg smiled winningly. The Mayor immediately became the picture of a career politician,

“That sounds fascinating Greg, can I call you Greg? If you could send the details to my office, we’ll start the ball rolling right away. We can discuss it in council and try to get the project underway as soon as possible.” the line between charm and smarm blurred as Sophie tried to remain outwardly calm, even as her inner excitement grew.

My God! Green power and Greg Howard, a political one-two punch, she thought. Greg was fascinated by the ambition he could almost feel washing off the woman like a tide.

“I’ll be sure to mail the proposal next week Madame Mayor, uh, Sophie,” Greg corrected himself. The two chatted pleasantly about nothing for a half hour longer and then Greg made motions to excuse himself.

“Well Sophie,” he said, glancing at his wrist, “I must be going. I have a truckload of materials for some experiments I’m running at home. Thank you again for your hospitality. We’ll do it again sometime soon.” He stood to leave.

“Certainly Greg,” she responded. “Oh and by the way, I’m having a small get together next week, you don’t suppose that you could attend?”

“I’d be delighted, of course Sophie,” Greg cringed inwardly.

“Excellent! I’ll have my aides send you an invitation and email you with the details. Thank you so much for dropping by. Oh, and please bring the wonder truck with you, I’m sure the other guests would love to see it. Till next week then,” Sophie smiled again holding out her right hand. Greg shook the woman’s hand again and left the office. Sophie couldn’t believe her luck at all, if this didn’t impress the nomination committee, nothing else would. She smiled and turned her attention back to her work.

On his way back down to the lobby, Greg opened the envelope addressed to Trish. As they had expected, it was the key to her post box. Greg retrieved the contents, left the building, and emerged from the dimness of the building, blinking into the winter sunlight. His eyes adjusted and he noticed Don arguing with his young partner.

“…and I say he’s illegally parked, Sergeant. The meter’s expired,” Constable Page complained.

“And I say you don’t go around ticketing VIPs. Simple as that,” Sergeant Gauld countered.

“Hey Don, what’s up?” Greg greeted his friend.

“Oh, hey Greg,” Don smiled. “The rookie here wants to give you a parking ticket and I’ve been trying to explain the politics and niceties of the situation to him.”

“What politics, Don?” Greg asked innocently.

“Well, seeing as you’re rapidly becoming some sort of a low level VIP around here now, I didn’t want to piss you off,” Don responded wryly.

“Oh bullshit, give me a break Don,” Greg snorted. “You give me tickets for the fun of it and you’ve known me too long to even consider that I’m the type to take advantage of the system.” Don rolled his eyes and sniggered. Greg turned to the younger officer and addressed him,

“OK, um, sorry I don’t know your name.”

“Constable Edward Page, Sir,” the young man stiffened his spine. “Sorry, but I was just trying to do my job.”

“I understand completely Officer Page,” Greg smiled. “Don’t apologize for doing what you’re supposed to do. Write the ticket, the meter’s expired and I’m obviously parked illegally. I’m in the wrong here and I’ll pay without a whimper,” he glanced sidelong at Don and winked, “or not too large a whimper anyways.” He smiled and extended his hand and then mugged at Don who was shaking his head and laughing. Ed Page shook Greg’s hand, giving him the ticket while grinning smugly at his superior.

“Thanks Officer, I’ll pay this at the bank today, OK? Great. You see Don, I’m still just the geek you’ve always known, though I never thought I’d thank someone for a parking ticket. Well, gotta go, stuff on the backburner at home. I’d tell you all about it…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Don finished, “but then you’d have to kill me. Sure. See you later Geek. C’mon Kid.” Don got into the cruiser still shaking his head and chuckling. Ed waved to Greg and got in as well. Finally, Trish spoke up,

“Greg, what was with that woman? And how come Don was going to bend the law for you?”

“This, my Dear,” Greg said, “is the wonderful world of politics, low level politics to be sure, but politics nonetheless. The Mayor wants to make use of my fame to gain political influence. Did you see her eyes light up when I told her about the wind generator scheme?” Greg prodded and Trish chuckled,

“I thought she was going to kiss you.”

“Well, either kiss me or kiss my ass,” Greg laughed explosively. “She’s gonna make use of that influence to move up the power structure somehow, if I’m any judge of character. Obviously, that’s why we’ve been invited to that party. Five years ago, I was a nobody in this town. See what being mildly famous will do for you? Gold-plated invitations to all of the A-list events… in Parry Sound,” he remarked snidely. “As for Don, well, he knows that sometimes VIPs can cause trouble simply with their connections. He just wasn’t sure how to handle me, as a friend or as a celebrity. So I let him and Ed know that I’m just a ‘law-abiding citizen’, not a wank who wants privileges. More fodder for our cover story, you know, Mr. Nice Guy, just like Clark Kent.”

“Well Clark, that party will be a great chance to get some more patterns on file,” she razzed him.

“And they’ll all be medium to high level people of power. I thought so too, Lois, that’s why I accepted,” Greg yawned. “I have a question for you, Trish. Do you think we could lift and fly this truck from the landing to the house and back? I forgot the ski trailer and I doubt that all of this stuff would fit into it anyways.”

“Well,” she considered, “I don’t see any problem lifting and flying, the real problem would be if anyone saw us. I have doubts that our stealth field would extend far enough to camouflage it. We’ll just have to be cautious and fly low.” Greg nodded and got into the truck. After paying the ticket, he made one more stop and bought a used suitcase at the Value Village.

“What’s that for Greg?” Trish asked.

“I had an idea. You’re going to be arriving in town by train on Friday. Let me explain…”

They got back to the landing just as the sun was setting. Greg made sure that no ice fishermen or snowmobilers were around. They got a good grip on the frame of the truck and lifted the front end almost as easily as lifting a dumbbell. There was a feeling of resistance, but that was about it. They worked themselves under the centre of the frame and easily balanced the truck. They lifted off, positioned themselves horizontally, and lowered until they were 3 feet off the ground. They flew low and anyone who might have seen the truck from a distance would have thought it was driving on the ice surface. They were home in 10 minutes and had the packages unloaded in another 10. next, Greg loaded the trailer onto the truck and they flew it back. Carefully positioning the truck in its own tracks, Greg set it down and unloaded the trailer. He locked up and placed the trailer in its regular spot. Finally, jumping onto the snowmobile, he headed back to the house. He had been tempted to fly, but Trish pointed out that a snowmobile should have a rider or it would look very suspicious. Eventually they were home and Greg took a hot shower. He had discovered he could adjust his systems so he would feel the heat and enjoy the shower more. Trish approved of the warm water and sighed with sheer pleasure.

The following morning, they attacked the parcels in the main room of the house. Greg took all of the materials he’d ordered to the workroom and then let Trish take over. When she had finished ‘changing’, she took her purchases, including the battered suitcase to the bedroom and opened each box with relish.

To Be Continued