Princes of Mannsborough, Part 8
by
Vulgar Argot
(rom, MF, anal, voy)
Leaving Marigold dozing,
curled up on the bed,
Thule
went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. Gazing into the
mirror over the sink, he took a personal inventory. He was starting to show
stubble and, in two or three days, would need to shave again. He was starting
to develop dark circles under his eyes again, but they did not look so bad on his tanned face as they had as when they were
the only color he had. Still, he was getting deep into sleep debt and would
have to catch up soon.
He ran a hand through his
mass of hair, easing out a few tangles that he'd accumulated while making
love to Marigold. He would get it cut tomorrow or the next day. He'd been
debating a shearing before Jonas suggested it. The hair had given him a
certain social credibility among the stoners and burnouts at school, but it
was a nuisance, taking up far too much of his time on maintenance. Shorter
hair meant more sleep and more code, which meant more money for MIT next year.
Glancing in the medicine
cabinet mirror, he could see the image of Marigold sprawled, face-down on the
bed. The form she'd worked so hard to hide throughout high school was openly
on display. It made
Thule
want to run back to bed, touch her, trace kisses down her spine. Short hair
would leave more time for other things, too. He chuckled, imagining that
thought hadn't occurred to Jonas.
Thule
realized that he was staring at Marigold in the
mirror. But, since she was sleeping, there was no need to look away. He'd
always known she was pretty and, through tantalizing glances at unguarded
moments, suspected that she was even beautiful, but never expected it to be
like this. From the first time she'd submitted to his attentions, his plans
and self-control had taken a serious blow. When he looked back at the way
he'd expected to use Marigold when this all started, he laughed at his own naïveté.
When
Thule
had imagined getting revenge on
Marigold, he had occasionally allowed himself to daydream about the idea that
the revenge might actually change her. As foolish as it seemed in hindsight,
he was completely blindsided by how it was changing him. In his more
melodramatic moments, he'd thought of himself as a failed protector, no
longer worthy of the mantle, seeking revenge as some final bit of redemption
before falling on his own sword. Any thought that he'd been able to get away
from his role as protector had dissipated when he burst through Adam's door
the day before.
Until this weekend,
Thule
had two very
different visions of the future. In one, he finished high school, went on to
MIT, and lived a normal life. In the other, he brought down apocalyptic
vengeance on a biblical scale on Randy Vandevoort and the cloud of miscreants
who surrounded him. But, after that, there was nothing.
Thule
had no exit strategy. For a long
time, he'd been angry enough that it was all-consuming. He was going to get his
revenge. And, if it meant he ended up dead or in jail, that
was a relatively minor concern.
Seemingly without waking,
Marigold reached up and pulled a pillow into her arms, curling around it.
Again,
Thule
considered just giving up the revenge business. He found that he very much
wanted to come out of this year free and with his skin intact. Reluctantly
letting his eyes track away from Marigold, he stared at himself in the mirror
again. Ignoring the signs of sleep deprivation, he focused on his own eyes and
thought about giving up. People did horrible things every day and got away
with it. Why should Mannsborough be any different? But, he couldn't get
through the thought without looking away.
He tried again, telling
himself that he was only doing it because his crazy ex-girlfriend had
convinced him to. The idea rang false. He no longer felt any connection to
Maya. He'd come home to a long, tearful e-mail from her, apologizing in
detail for all of her transgressions, real and imagined. He hadn't answered. There
had been another long, ranty message, blaming him for all of the things she'd
just apologized for when he got home today. He would have to deal with Maya
at some point, but that could wait a few days.
Thule
thought about what he had on Randy so far. It
should be enough to get an indictment and ruin the Vandevoorts' reputation.
But, was it enough for a conviction?
Thule
didn't know. Was he willing to hand it over to the proper authorities and
hope for the best?
He looked himself in the
eyes a third time and knew the answer. Conjuring up his best John Wayne
impression, he said, "Well, pilgrim. A man who can't look himself in the
eye when he makes a decision ain't really much of a man."
He lowered his head and
laughed at himself. He could certainly be melodramatic when he put his mind
to it.
With fresh resolve,
Thule
turned back
towards the bedroom. He had thought he was done with crazy women. But
Marigold had the potential to be as bugfuck bonkers as Maya in her own,
special way. Looking at her gave him pause. His first attempt at the revenge
business had been a rather spectacular failure. His plan had had a certain
poetic elegance to it. Marigold had made Maya feel like a whore, so
Thule
had done the same
thing to Marigold.
But, this was not the planned
end result. Marigold was supposed to be broken and miserable because of it,
like Maya had been, not sleeping peacefully in his bed, probably looking
forward to more of the same treatment that had been intended to break her.
Again,
Thule
's resolve almost faltered.
Thule
had started with
Marigold because she was the least of Maya's transgressors. How in the hell
was he going to take down the real bad guys after such a spectacular failure
on what had effectively been a trial run?
He physically shook his
head as if his doubts were so many cobwebs that could be physically torn away
by violent motion and growled to himself, "Fuck
it." Randy and Brianne were going to jail. If they turned out to enjoy
it, so be it.
But, he was done with
revenge on Marigold, whatever games she might want to play about giving and
taking orders. He wanted to protect her, not expose her. He needed to make
sure that he didn't inadvertently do so if something happened to him.
He'd collected an
extraordinary amount of blackmail material on her. Crossing the room, he
started up his DVD-ROM burning software and started to burn everything he'd
collected to a couple of discs, encrypting and password protecting it so
that, even if someone else found the DVD, they couldn't see its contents. He
considered just deleting the files, but he just couldn't bring himself to do
it.
As he started burning the
first disk, he realized that he had one more file to take care of. Unlocking
the top drawer of his desk, he extracted a thin metallic tube, not much wider
than a finger. To someone not familiar with such devices, it didn't look like
much of anything. Even having drooled over this particular model in catalogs,
Thule
had
almost missed it yesterday.
Fortunately, it fit the
adapter he had gotten with some much less expensive units. Plugging it into
the adapter attached to a second computer, he started the software that would
allow him to view what the tiny camera had recorded.
Marigold stirred and looked
up.
"I should get
home," she said.
Thule
could hear the remorse in her voice. He checked the clock and saw she was
right. He said, "Call Jonas. Tell him you'll be home soon. I just need
to finish this."
Marigold walked over to the
desk, still blinking sleep from her eyes. As she reached for the receiver,
she asked casually, "What are you doing?"
Thule
put an arm around Marigold's belly, drawing her to
him, and kissed the top of her head. Even the casual gesture brought his
momentarily dormant libido into the forefront of his attention. Focusing on
the question, he said, "I'm moving all of the incriminating files I have
of you to DVD so that there's no chance they will fall into the wrong hands.
Then, I'll delete them off of the hard drive and run a special utility to
make sure that they can't be recovered.
Marigold looked at the
second screen, "What's that?"
"That's you and
Adam,"
Thule
said quietly.
Marigold leaned forward to
look more closely, but didn't pull away, "How the hell did you record
that?"
"I didn't," said
Thule
. "Not only
did Adam sell spy cameras, he apparently used them as well. While you were in
the bathroom, I spotted this one," he held up the tube, "on top of
his TV. It's an Atech-Terra Model 1500, very high tech and state-of-the-art.
That's why the picture is so clear."
Marigold watched the image
for a while, her face unreadable, "Are you going to keep this
file?"
"I was planning
to," said
Thule
.
"Why?"
"Force of habit,"
said
Thule
.
"It's in my nature to be thorough. If you would rather, I could destroy
it."
"Would you want to
watch it?" Marigold asked.
Thule
shook his head, "No. I only watched it now to
see whether I'd been right that it was recording when I took it. I would hate
to think I stole several thousand dollars worth of camera based on a faulty
assumption."
"So, you don't like
seeing me with another man?" asked Marigold. "It doesn't do
anything for you?"
Thule
shook his head again, "No. I don't like seeing
you with another man."
Marigold's looked back at
the first screen and seemed to change the subject, "So, this is all the
blackmail material you have on me?"
Thule
nodded, "Yup."
"
Thule
, do you want me all to yourself? No
other men? I know you said you don't deserve it, but would you want it if you
did?"
Thule
watched the image of Adam slobbering all over
Marigold on the second monitor. Actually, he doubted the man was slobbering,
but it helped to pretend that he was.
"I want to protect you
from guys like Adam," said
Thule
.
Then, thinking about the people they went to school with, he added, "and
worse."
"Then order me not to
be with other men," Marigold said. "at
least for now. On some level, I knew what going with Adam was going to lead
to, but I couldn't think of any compelling reason not to go."
Thule
wrapped his arm more tightly around her. Marigold's
naked body pressing against him was making it hard to think, "You want
this?"
Marigold nodded, laying her
head back on his shoulder, and nuzzling against his neck, "I want this."
Letting his fingers roam
gentle over her belly,
Thule
said gravely, "Marigold,"
"Yes,
Thule
?"
"No other men. That's
an order."
She lowered her head in a
gesture of submission, "Yes,
Thule
."
Thule
kissed the back of her neck and the top of her
spine. His hands roamed more freely over her body.
Marigold leaned forward,
resting her elbows on top of the desk, pressing her bottom against
Thule
's groin.
Thule
almost didn't
hear her ask, "So, what would happen if I were to turn this computer off
while you were moving files from the hard drive to DVD? Would it destroy the
files forever, like none of this had ever happened?"
Thule
knew what would happen. One file of the several
dozen he had might get corrupted. He'd also have to start the burn over. He
didn't say that, though. Instead, he laid a hand on the small of Marigold's
back and said, "I don't know. It might." Then, he watched her
carefully.
Marigold spread her legs
slightly and began to rub herself against
Thule
. He stiffened immediately. Marigold
lowered her head further, staring intently at the power button on the
computer.
Thule
laid his free hand on Marigold's shoulder and said,
"Little flower, if you don't stop that, you're going to get home awfully
late."
Marigold stood up straight,
pulling away from
Thule
a little so that she could turn around and face him. Her eyes widened in what
Thule
presumed to be feigned surprise, "You're right," she said, "I
should get dressed. It's too bad I can't stay all night. Thule,
don't you think it will be nice once we get to
Boston
and we can be together all
night?"
Thule
smiled evilly, "Actually, I've got to wait at
least another," he glanced at the screen, "six minutes before I can
take you home." Then, he took Marigold's shoulder, turned her around and
bent her over the desk again.
"Six minutes
isn't..." Marigold started to say, but
Thule
was already pressing himself against
her bottom. She only had time to gasp before he was inside of her. It didn't
take Marigold long to start moaning and mewling, her body trembling under his
onslaught.
Six minutes into sodomizing
her,
Thule
slowed down. Marigold looked up at him, disbelief in her eyes, "Please,
don't stop," she begged.
"I'm not," said
Thule
, "hold
still." Then, he reached over, grabbed his keyboard and balanced it on
her shoulders, pounding away at her the whole time. Marigold made a little
squeal of protest when she heard him start typing, but held still. Less than
a minute later,
Thule
put the keyboard back on the desk and focused his attention back on driving
relentlessly into Marigold. As he did, he glanced over at the second screen
again. The file was just getting to the part, a black streak of pre-coitus interruptus. Gripping
Marigold's hips in both hands, he drove harder into her, seeking to possess
her totally. It didn't take much of that before he exploded inside of her.
Marigold's whole body was trembling as if with fever by that time.
Thule
pulled her
backwards onto his lap in the desk chair where she sat panting as he shrank
out of her.
Marigold leaned back to
kiss
Thule
on
the neck.
Thule
said shakily, "Now, you'd really better go get cleaned up. Then call
Jonas."
"Okay," said
Marigold. She skipped off, a look of smug satisfaction on her face.
Thule
sat back and sighed. If he survived to make it to
Boston
, Marigold would
probably be the death of him. After a few seconds of relaxing, he began
gathering his clothes and putting them back on. He would need a shower after
he got back from dropping Marigold off. At this rate, it was going to be
another long night.
Once dressed, he sat down
at his desk again, ejected the DVD, labeled it "MARIGOLD 1," and
put it in the free-standing safe under his desk. With the evidence he'd
collected from the coach, the DVD, and the video tape he'd retrieved from
Paul in
New York
,
it was starting to get very full. Only he and Maya had the combination. He'd
spent an extra two hundred dollars on the safe so that he'd know that no one
else could open it.
He'd had doubts about
Maya's suitability as a partner in crime all along, but this weekend had
really put things in perspective. He was going to need another confederate he
could trust. Marigold seemed an obvious choice, but she really hadn't proven
herself to have a mind sufficiently twisted to deal with the safe's contents.
If it wasn't going to be her, his list of options was pretty much down to
one.
As Marigold emerged from
the bathroom,
Thule
had just piled the last of the magnetic media onto the bulk eraser and
powered it up.
"What's that?"
she asked.
"That is a bulk
eraser," said
Thule
.
"It's the only reliable way to destroy magnetic media."
"Is the movie of me
and Adam on there?"
Thule
held up a silver disk of metal no wider than a
fingernail and less than a quarter inch thick, "This is the movie of you
and Adam. The model 1500 uses solid state media and is radiation hardened to
survive a nuclear near-miss."
"So, you can't erase
it?"
"I didn't say
that," said
Thule
.
He placed the disk on the table with the bulk eraser away from the computers
and went to get his toolbox.
When he returned, he
extracted a claw hammer. Raising it over his head, he brought it down on the
disk as hard as he could. The disk broke into three large pieces and some
silver powder. Just for good measures, he hit each of the three pieces,
breaking them down further.
"Well," said
Marigold. "That was emphatic."
Thule
ran a hand through his hair, pulling it back from
where it had fallen into his face from the hammering and grinned at her.
There must have been something in the grin he hadn't meant to express because
she took a step back in alarm.
-=-
In the car on the way back
to Marigold's house,
Thule
said, "All this transferring of video files reminds me that there's a
present for you on the back seat."
Marigold climbed over the
seat and came back with a small gift-wrapped box. Her eyes glowed with
pleasure, "Can I open it now?"
Thule
nodded, smiling at her childlike joy.
Marigold tore off the
wrapping, revealing a PC camera. She looked up quizzically.
"With that," said
Thule
,
"you'll be able to call me at home and see me. It won't tie up your
phone line, so you don't have to worry about someone accidentally picking up
another extension. Plus, I can watch you sleep."
Marigold asked, "You
would do that?"
Thule
smiled, "I would like that."
They were in front of
Marigold's house now. She hugged the box, then slid
it into her backpack, "Can I call you later if I have trouble setting it
up?"
"Of course," said
Thule
,
getting out of the car to come around to her side. He opened her door for
her.
"
Thule
," asked Marigold, "you're
not going to keep up the good boyfriend routine, are you?"
"Actually," said
Thule
, "I need to
talk to Jonas."
Marigold frowned, "I
think I liked it better when you and my stepfather were on opposite sides.
You two being all chummy makes me nervous."
Thule
smiled, "If that were still the case, I would
have had you home two hours ago. And think of all the fun that we would have
missed."
Marigold's smile just
missed demure, "Oh, all right. How much does he know anyway?"
Thule
laughed, heading up the path, "More than I
would like him to." Marigold was forced to follow and, before she could
formulate the next question,
Thule
was standing at the front door, about to knock. Before he could, the door
opened.
"Hey, you two,"
said Jonas. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"No, sir," said
Thule
, "We were
just about to say good night. But, if you had a minute, I would like to talk
to you about something."
Jonas nodded, "I'll
get my jacket."
While he was gone,
Thule
kissed Marigold
good night. Marigold started to melt into the kiss, but
Thule
pulled back. As he expected, Jonas
appeared shortly thereafter. He bade Marigold good night and she headed up
the stairs.
"Walk with me,"
said Jonas as he crossed the porch.
Thule
trotted a few steps to catch up. Jonas shrugged on
his jacket. Neither spoke until they were on the sidewalk, away from the
house, and in front of a wooded area.
"So," Jonas
asked, "What did you want to talk to me about?"
Thule
said, "I came up with something you can do to
help me. I need someone I can trust in case things go wrong."
"How wrong could they
go?" Jonas asked. It was not a dismissive question, but an earnest one.
Thule
sighed, "The potential for havoc is unbounded.
If I should wind up...If something should happen to me, there's a safe in my
room. Inside of it is everything I've collected about all of the dirty
dealings going on in this town. I need you to get it to Officer Richard
Tulley in
Perth Amboy
."
"
Perth Amboy
is a long way away," said
Jonas, "Why there?"
"Officer Tulley has a
vested interest in seeing that the information in there is used, although he
doesn't know it yet. If you do this, I recommend you make a copy of
everything for yourself. There's a tech in your company's IT department named
John Xiu who also has a vested interest in this case who can copy the
computer media for you if you need help."
Jonas pulled a small pad
and pen from his pockets.
Thule
laid a warning hand on this, "Don't write any of this down. I'll repeat
it as many times as you need. As far as I can tell, I've worked for three
years without anyone involved getting a whiff of this. I'd hate for some
scrap of paper to fall into the wrong hands and blow the whole thing."
Jonas raised an eyebrow,
but put pen and pad away. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he came out with a
half-full pack of Marlboro reds and a lighter. He offered them to
Thule
.
Thule
waved them away, "Thanks, but I
quit a year ago."
Jonas lit himself a
cigarette, "I quit six years ago. Took it up again today. The more I
started thinking about what you and Marigold are involved in, the more I
needed one."
Thule nodded, "If you
want a secure place to keep all of the information I'm going to give you, I
can help you configure a PDA to encrypt and secure it, but it's still
important to keep it in your head, in case something happens to the
PDA."
Jonas took out the pad and
pen again, "Is it all right if I write down what sort of PDA to
get?"
Thule
snorted, then told him.
Jonas took quick, efficient notes. Then, putting away the pad, he pulled out
his wallet. Searching through, he came out with a business card, "If you
need him, this is a criminal defense attorney. He got my juvenile record sealed
after I cleaned up so that I could be an officer in a publicly-traded
company. I've let him know that he's to help you in whatever way he
can."
Thule
nodded gratefully, "Thank you."
"I thought of
something else I can do to help you, but I need you to take me into your
confidences first," said Jonas.
"If I can," said
Thule
.
Jonas stopped walking. They
were still alongside the road, but forest stretched from horizon to horizon.
He face
Thule
,
took a long draw from his cigarette, its tip burning incandescent in the
darkness, then asked, "Is Ivan Vandevoort one of your big sharks?"
Thule
didn't answer. He walked a yard up the road, then
back past Jonas, then back again. Jonas offered him a cigarette again. This
time, he took it, lit it, and took a long draw before speaking. Finally, he
said, "You, Ivan Vandevoort, and Thom Gregory, Marigold's father, were
known as the Unholy Trinity in high school. You were inseparable. Greg and
Ivan were known for their womanizing, you for your drug habit. Greg went to Harvard;
you and Ivan stayed in town and went to
Farraghut
University
.
You two were crown princes to your respective family fortunes. You dated a
girl named Holly Wentsworth, who is Marigold's mother, your current wife and
later Greg's sister, Abigail. After you left Holly for Abigail, Ivan dated
Holly. The first time you were caught with heroin, it was Ivan who bailed you
out. You used his lawyer on your two subsequent arrests."
Thule
took another drag. It seemed clear that he wasn't
done and Jonas did not interrupt. He went on, "When Thom got into his
accident, he asked you to take care of Holly and
Marigold. Eighteen months later, you were married. Six months after that, you
became a born-again Christian and began to take your job seriously. After
Ivan, you are the wealthiest man in a town crawling with millionaires. You
and Ivan have gone into partnership on three ventures. You have been
approached for partnerships in at least three other ventures, which you have
declined. At least two of those ventures were subsequently investigated for
some degree of malfeasance." He took a deep breath, then a drag on the
cigarette.
Jonas let out a low
whistle, "That's pretty damned close to accurate and displays a
disturbing lack of data security on my end. But, I'm not sure that it answers
my question."
"It doesn't,"
admitted
Thule
,
"It asks why I should answer that question to someone who seems to have
a history of friendship and cooperation with Ivan Vandevoort."
Jonas dropped his cigarette
and ground it out violently, "This is a very strange town," he
said, "Why did you tell me as much as you did if you don't trust
me?"
"I do trust you--as
far as I can trust anyone," said
Thule
.
"But, I'm curious."
"If it's just idle
curiosity..."
"It's not idle,"
said
Thule
,
"I want to know if you're involved in anything that would come out in an
investigation of the Vandevoort family."
Jonas shrugged, "My
conscience is clean. Ivan's offered me eleven business deals in total. I've
turned down eight of them because they smelled funny."
"Are you still
friends?"
Jonas shook his head,
"Not in a long time. After Thom chose me to watch over his family
instead of Ivan, Ivan did everything he could to undermine that. He didn't
really have any interest in Holly, but he hated losing. Once he took over his
father's company, I started to see a lot of the ugliness he kept hidden. We
do business because that's business. How in the hell did you get all of that
information anyway? Some of it should never have left my office."
Thule
chuckled, "For your high school internship program,
add the question 'Do you have a big mouth?' to the application."
"Damn," said
Jonas lighting another cigarette. Then, he was deadly serious, "I want
to see Ivan go down. Between what he's done and what he's covered up for his
son, he deserves to go down hard."
Thule
flicked his own cigarette out onto the macadam of
the road, "Randy Vandevoort and a girl named Brianne Orlean are my
primary targets. But, most of what I have on Randy indicts his father as
well."
Jonas said, "Listen,
if you're interested, I have an idea how I can help you, if you want
it."
"I'm listening,"
said
Thule
.
Jonas outlined his plan.
Thule
listened. It was
brilliant and overwhelming in its simplicity. He whistled in admiration and
awe, "That's far more than I ever would have asked for. If you're
willing to do it, it could make a monumental difference."
"Answer me one
question," said Jonas, "Why are you doing all of this? Plenty of
people have suffered in this town. Why you?"
"When I was
fifteen,"
Thule
said, "Randy Vandevoort raped my girlfriend, Maya. Brianne set the whole
thing up. I promised to protect her and I couldn't. So, I promised to get
back at them if I could."
Jonas started walking
slowly back towards the house. When it was clear that
Thule
was following him, he said,
"That's a hell of a responsibility to take on at fifteen."
Behind him,
Thule
said, "I
can't think of any time in my life I would be more qualified. I've had three
and a half years to plan and gather information. I've had unrestricted access
to my targets six hours a day, five days a week. Come September, I'll be in
college or working full time. If not now, when?"
It was a rhetorical
question and Jonas did not bother to answer it. Instead, as they came up on
Thule
's car, he asked,
"Is there anything else you can think of that I can do?"
Thule
gave a pained laugh, "I could use another
cigarette."
-=-
When
Thule
got back in his car, the clock on his
dashboard said 10:22 pm. He sighed as he decided with important tasks to let
slide one more day and which to take care of. Making a decision, he skipped
the turn that would lead to his house and kept driving until he found a big 24-hour drug stores that was practically a
supermarket. After making his purchase, he drove home. Checking his e-mail,
he saw one from Marigold near the top. She had gotten her PC camera to work
and needed to know how to set it up so
Thule
could watch her. He e-mailed instructions back, assuming she had already gone
to bed. But, a few minutes later, an indicator popped up indicating that
TetheredLittleFlower wanted to establish a videoconference. Placing a soda
bottle cap over his camera's lens, he accepted. A jerky picture of Marigold,
dressed for bed, appeared.
He typed, "Hello,
Marigold. Don't tell me you miss me already."
It took Marigold a few
seconds to figure out how to respond, but then she typed, "Of course. I
can't see you, though. Did I do something wrong?"
Thule
typed, "No. I want to watch you sleep tonight.
When we converse, I will uncover the camera so that you can see me." He
thought about it, then added, "if the mood
strikes me."
It seemed to take her a
moment to digest this. Then, she typed, "Yes,
Thule
. This is good night, then?"
"Yes,"
Thule
typed, "I
have one last thing I have to do tonight, but then I'm going to sleep."
"If I'd known,"
typed Marigold, "I wouldn't have worn my schlumpy old sweat pants."
"Take them off,"
typed
Thule
,
"Take everything off. Few things make me happier than watching you sleep
naked."
Marigold nodded at the
camera, then stripped down, doing a loose bump and
grind.
Thule
wondered if she'd actually seen a stripper do that or if women just
instinctively moved like that when stripping down for a man's enjoyment. When
she was completely naked, she came back and typed, "Good night,
Thule
. Dream of
me."
Thule
typed, "Good night, Little Flower. Close the
chat client before you go to bed. It wouldn't do for someone to accidentally
glance at this conversation in the morning."
Marigold nodded again and
Thule
got a message
"*** USER TetheredLittleFlower has exited the chat room. ***."
Then, Marigold got up from her desk, turned the camera to face her bed,
walked off camera for a moment, then came back and laid down on top of the
covers, turned off the light, and seemed to fall asleep quickly.
Once she seemed to be
sleeping,
Thule
laid a few pieces of newspaper on the floor near the mass eraser, then rolled his desk chair over on top of the newspaper.
Watching Marigold's prone form on the monitor, he stripped out of his
clothes, plugged in the shaver he'd bought tonight and began to give himself
the only haircut he could with any reasonable degree of professionalism. As
he felt his long locks falling down his body and onto the paper below, he
felt like he was preparing for war. Watching Marigold sleep on the screen, he
knew what he was fighting for.
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