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Message-ID: <43975asstr$1061205004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: juliancoreto@operamail.com (Julian Coreto)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 18 Aug 2003 04:03:27 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Alan, Chapter 24 {NEW}
Date: Mon, 18 Aug 2003 07:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Author: Julian Coreto
Title: Alan
Part: 24
Summary: Alan and Kate both come home; a nemesis explores a new
avenue.
Keywords: mc MF

Chapter 24
Hammer

The street was dark as she briefly exposed herself to view.  The
Indian had dropped her off a few blocks from the target's house, and
she stealthily moved through various yards; each time she had to cross
a path she made a complete job of looking all about, making sure she
was not seen.  It was slow going, but before long she was standing in
the Marshall's back yard.  She pressed herself against the side of the
house, inching to the front.  Taking a deep breath she then darted out
of cover, and in seconds was silently scampering up the tree.  There
she waited.  She inserted the tiny speaker in her left ear and scanned
up the road.  It really was a good place to set up.  The road dead
ended a few meters behind her, so there was no way Alan Marshall could
hope to sneak up to her.  Her muscles tensed as she spotted headlights
turning onto the street, but the Indian transmitted into her ear that
this was not her target's arrival.  Her hands were sticky, and she
wiped them free of tree sap against her black robes.

She waited a long time.  Most of the lights in the houses were already
out for the night as she ate a simple meal of sticky rice wrapped in
seaweed.  From time to time a car came down the lane, but each time
her earpiece crackled with the information that the vehicle in
question was not her target's car.  She wore no timepiece but knew the
hour was very late.  Many a time as she waited she considered
meditating, but rejected the idea, wanting to remain fully alert.

Two pinpricks of light appeared in the distance, enlarging as the car
approached.  This time it was him.  She rolled her head, loosening her
muscles.  The car pulled up to the house, not coming up the drive, but
taking the spot by the curb.  This came as no surprise to her. Hours
before she had watched as Marshall's parents returned home, the
vehicle, piloted by the father slipping in next to another one in the
two car garage.  Her body tensed as she prepared to spring from her
hiding spot.  She heard the engine shut down.  There was a brief pause
before she saw the interior lights of Marshall's car come on and the
driver-side door swing open.  The wind was picking up as she dropped
to the grass below her.

Alan got out of the car and shut the door.  The whole day he had been
bothered, a feeling in the back of his mind that something wasn't
quite right.  It had receded by late afternoon, after he had left to
pick up Kate at the train station, and by halfway through their
sushi-and-a-movie night out it had disappeared almost completely. 
Now, however, it was returning, and with a bit of a vengeance.  After
dropping Kate off at her house and steering his dad's station car the
few blocks home, the dull throbbing reappeared, something like a faint
headache.  He had looked around after cutting the engine, but had seen
nothing, and reassured by the presence of the security men in the van
halfway up the block, he had gotten out.

* * *

Karick had been pissed off for the last three hours.  His hands
gripped the wheel tightly as he drove, too tightly for comfort.  He
had just picked up Jack at the International Terminal at JFK, and had
been relieved that the old man--well, not so old man now that he
inhabited the body of Theodore Dickinson--had ordered him to take him
up to see Alan at once.  The problem was that Alan wasn't answering
his cell phone.  Karick didn't know how long Alan had been off the
air, but he knew that he'd been trying to get a hold of him for the
last three hours, and had as yet been unsuccessful.

Jack was in the back seat, reading over some papers as Karick sped up
the Bronx River Parkway, doing at least twenty over the limit.  His
new assistant, Peter Gant, a former U.S. Army Ranger, was trying to
calm him.

"Slow down, slow down," he counseled, "You're just going to get pulled
over, and that'll just set us back."

"Young man," Jack piped in from the backseat, "We are in dire
circumstances.  There is no risk of our being pulled over.  Leave the
local constabulary to me."

Peter did not understand, but decided not to question how their
passenger would prevent the smokies from stopping them.  Karick put
his foot down, and the car rocketed farther ahead.

Patrice and Eric, the two watchers on duty a few doors down from
Alan's house set their cards down as they saw his car come down the
street.  Their shifts were soon to end, and they were looking forward
to the rest of the night off. Eric turned in his swivel
captain's-style chair and checked the monitor.  The tiny transponder
implanted behind Alan's knee responded to the signal and chirped an
answer to the machine's interrogator.  A small blip appeared on the
screen and he keyed the two-way radio feature on his cell phone,
paging Karick.

"Nest to Sentinel, Alan pulling up now.  Are you still unable to raise
him?"

The frantic quality to Karick's voice was evident through the ether.
"He's there?"

"Affirmative."

Karick picked up speed.  Jack then suggested that the two guard grab
Alan and get him away from the house.  Karick relayed the message. 
Patrice grumbled at these new instructions, ones contrary to the
protocols he had been briefed with when he started this job.  As Alan
got out of the car they did the same.

* * *

She was about fifteen meters from him, advancing steadily.  He had
only taken a few steps towards his house when the quiet of the street
was broken by voices coming from up the block.

"Alan!  Mr. Marshall, sir!" two men cried out as they made their way
towards the driveway.  She watched her target pause, turning to face
the calls.  She sprung, her sword held high in a two-handed grip.

Just as he was completely turned around Alan noticed something out of
the corner of his eye, a tiny flash of reflected light off a long thin
metal object.  "A sword.  Headed at me," his brain instantly
processed.  He took a step backwards, the sole of his right foot
coming down on an acorn, one still green from the recent rain, one
scattered by the recent gust of wind.  He fell on his ass, hard, but
luckily as he saw the sword miss him, whistling through the air where
he was, seconds before, standing upright.

A figure, clad in all black, its face obscured by a mask, twisted
around, bring the sword towards him.  Not thinking he reacted, using
his powers to defend himself.  With a clatter, the long weapon went
flying down the road, more then twenty feet.  He expect the bearer to
be startled, allowing him a second or two to regroup, but the
ninja-like figure paid this development almost no heed, kicking him
while he was attempting to lift himself up, the crepe sole of her shoe
smacking against his face, the back of his head striking the pavement
with force.

"Hey!  You there!  Freeze!" Alan heard one of his guards yell.  His
vision, though blurry from the blow to the head, could still make them
out, advancing toward him rapidly, their sidearms drawn, pointed at
his assailant.

Her attention distracted momentarily, Alan hoisted himself to his feet
and began to inch away from the scene as quietly as he could, his
steps wobbly.  The ninja person had turned his back on him, dealing
now with the others.  She waved her arm out, and to Alan's shock his
two rescuers crumpled to the ground in midstride.  Alan had managed to
put about a dozen feet between him and the attacker before the ninja
turned back.

"Keep away," he mumbled as loudly as he could through his swollen
mouth.  A warm trickle of blood was flowing from a small gash on the
back of his skull, down his neck and under his collar, and he was
slightly groggy.  She sprung at him again, and it was all his effort
to repel her with his mind.  She was practically flying at him, her
right foot tracing an arc through the night air headed right for his
chin when he pushed against her with his mind.  She missed him and
curled into a ball as she landed, rolling over and bouncing up into a
battle position in a single smooth motion.  Her eyes darted over the
landscape, searching out for her blade.  She spotted it almost at
once, lying on the hard pavement almost at the mouth of the next
house's driveway.  Clapping her hands together dramatically she
concentrated on it and it lifted off the surface of the road, soaring
to her hand.  Alan saw it too, and he diverted it with his TK.  It
flipped over, the point of it now flying towards Michiko, and she dove
out of its path so as not to be impaled.

Alan kept with it, causing the shaft of the blade to be impaled in the
oak in his front yard, halfway to the hilt.  The ninja, who by this
time Alan had deduced was a woman, jumped up again, but he was quick
enough on his feet to dodge this time.

"You've made a mistake coming here," he said with more confidence than
he actually felt; blood was dripping from his mouth, and he spat to
avoid swallowing some of it.  He watched her wheel around, and midway
through her move he reached out with his power to seize her mind.  To
his consternation he couldn't get a grip on her consciousness. 
Furiously he concentrated, but it was futile, like trying to hug a
greased sow.

His mind probe momentarily startled her as she was in mid-kick, but
she brushed it off easily; it did, however affect her aim, and her
blow to him was only glancing, connecting with his side.  Twisting her
body around she struck at him with an open hand, connecting with a
chop to his gut, and he doubled over in pain, the wind knocked out of
him.  Seeing this she scampered over to the tree and began to wrestle
with the handle of her sword, trying to pry it from the trunk.  She
could hear him gasping a few meters behind her as she freed the
weapon.  Turning to him again she raised the sword high and advanced. 
Just as she was about to strike the deadly blow something went wrong.

She was flying backwards, and with a crash she collided with the oak
tree, a massive blow, her whole body aching at the impact.  "The
little bastard," she thought bitterly, picking herself up off the
grass, one hand brushing dirt and debris from the front of her robes
while the other hand seized the handle of the sword.  "Two can play at
this game."

He was running down the road, trying to get away.  A quick thought and
he was down, having tripped over an invisible obstacle she had created
in his path.  By the time she had caught up with him he was on his
feet again, making to run.  A flash of steel and he was bleeding from
a cut, though not as deep as she would have hoped, a gash running from
his right shoulder to his left hip.  His shirt was in tatters, and
soaked red.

Alan lashed out with his TK and she went flying again, landing with a
thud about thirty feet away, but to his chagrin she was on her feet
within a second or two, charging again.  Behind him he could hear a
car approaching, its headlights casting long shadows on the roadway. 
She was almost at him once more, and with his strength abandoning him
he repelled another attack, knowing within himself that he had not the
vigor to do so again.  His vision was blurry, both from the pain he
felt and the copious amount of sweat dripping off his forehead and
stinging his eyes, as he watched her approach again.  With a vague
sense of distraction, like he was a character in a martial arts movie,
and not a soon to be victim, he watched the steel blade as it swooped
towards his neck.   He was going to die.  He was going to die in the
next three seconds.

She heard the squeal of the brakes, but paid it no heed.  The moment
of victory was at hand, and she would not be distracted from her
mission.  Two hands gripped on the handle of the sword, one quick
slash and it would be over.  She was already thinking about the follow
through of her slashing action when the sword once again skipped from
her hands, clattering to the pavement.  Three men were approaching
her, two with handguns pointed right at them.  "Well," she thought,
"This wont be anything but another slight annoyance, like the first
two."  Once again she waved her arm in the prescribed motion and said
the proper incantation, but to her horror, nothing happened.

She was struck by a blow of immense proportion, not a physical blow,
but a battering ram of pure mental energy, flooring her.  This new
player, the man in the middle of the pack of three walking towards her
position, was playing the game on a higher order of magnitude, she
feared.  Slowly she rose from the ground to confront this new threat,
but no sooner had she righted herself, spitting blood, than another
wave of psychic power overwhelmed her.

Alan was sitting, propped against the Anderson's mailbox, blinking
rapidly. Jack and the two others ran up to him.  "I'm alive," he
croaked, straining with effort to get the words out.

"Yes, my friend, but only just," Jack said quietly, crouching beside
him.  A few lights went on in the houses on the street, but with a
quick global command from Jack they were swiftly extinguished, the
residents returning to their beds.  Alan could see his attacker,
laying flat on her back in the center of the road, unmoving.  Karick
and the other man were tending to the two guards, trying to rouse them
while Jack tended to his wounds.  He could feel Jack's hands on the
back of his head, and it felt as though he was being tickled as the
skin on his scalp was knitted back together.  A similar process took
care of the bloody wound to his torso, and he attempted to stand up
but Jack held him still, telling him not to move.

The former Dr. Massimo left his side and went to help with Patrice and
Eric, all the time keeping a sharp eye on the attacker lying in the
road.  The two security men had been stunned into unconsciousness, and
it wasn't long before they were finding their feet, slowly making
their way back to the surveillance van, Peter and Karick fast on their
heels carrying the ninja's limp body between them.  Jack returned to
the mailbox and sat beside Alan, his eyes closed.

"You're still a trifle shocky, Alan," he said very quietly, taking one
of Alan's hands in his own.

Alan felt soft pulses of energy pass through their manual connection,
and was soon feeling a whole lot better.  Karick went over to the van
and instructed them to wait, then returned to Alan and Jack, standing
guard, his gun at his side.

By his wristwatch Jack spent almost ten minutes pulsing Seed energy
into him as they sat quietly on the semi-deserted street, Karick
pacing around them.  At long last he felt his two companions grab him
from his underarms and lift him up.  Karick went and moved the car,
parking it around the corner and out of sight as Jack led Alan back to
his house and up to his room.  Tadeusz joined them shortly thereafter.

"That was some scary shit," Alan commented after quickly downing a
glass of water Jack had fetched.

"You're telling me!" Karick laughed, though his face was all business.

"Who is she, Alan?" Jack asked, his features circumspect.

"No clue.  She was powerful.  I couldn't penetrate her mental
defenses.  She came this close to killing me.  It's a good thing you
got here when you did."

"Yes," Jack replied dryly, "But it would have been a better thing if
you would have answered you cell phone."

"Fuck!  I turned it off when I went into the movie theater, and forgot
to turn it back on when we left."

"Well, that's water under the bridge now," Karick said, "But I do hope
you'll be more attentive in the future."

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat all night, but there are matters
pressing, none more so than the young woman now out cold in the van. 
Rest up, my young friend," Jack said as a farewell, patting Alan's
head paternally.  He was asleep in minutes.

Jack stopped Karick as they were halfway down the driveway back to the
car.  "I think it is time to pick up the Indian.  He is near, but
headed back to Manhattan, to the hotel.  We will collect him there. 
You and I will ride back in the van with the girl.  Leave Peter and
the Buick here to guard Alan."  Karick nodded and jogged ahead to
issue instructions to his team.

* * *

He didn't see all of it, but he did catch the end of it, and that was
enough.  After signaling the woman he had put his car in gear and made
his way to the end of Marshall's block, parking just around the
corner.  With great care he inched his way on foot through the first
yard to see the battle, and to be ready when the mission had been
carried out.  The appearance of the newcomers was a sorry happening,
but there was nothing for him to do but flee.  It was his luck that he
was an unknown element as yet, he believed.

* * *

"OK, boss, where to?" Karick asked as they pulled away from Alan's
street.  He was driving with wet shoes, something he had never really
liked, but was tonight a consequence of having to hose the blood off
of the pavement in front of the Marshall house.

"Federal Plaza, in Manhattan," Jack instructed, and Karick accelerated
through the dim streets towards the highway onramp.

"This time of night?"

"The guardians of democracy never sleep, my friend, though I myself
could use some.  I'm a little jetlagged."

It was child's play for Jack and Karick to gain admission to the
building.  Within minutes the INS and the FBI were in possession of
the photo of Patel snapped just a few days before as he left London
for Heathrow and the USA. The agents didn't know why they were to
detain the Indian, but the knew that Mr. Lazarus was to be informed
immediately when it happened.

The assassin was lodged in the secure office in Wilkins's suite, and
at long last Jack was able to rest.

Two days later Mr. Patel was removed from a Dulles to Heathrow
afternoon non-stop, and within hours the FBI had turned him over to
Jack.

* * *

"I don't remember if I said this the other night, but thank you for
saving my life.  And thank Karick and the other guy, too.

"What I don't understand is the why of it," Alan was saying as he took
a bite out of his steak.  Jack paused as he brought his wineglass to
his lips.  They were in a semi-secluded booth at a midtown steakhouse
a few days after Patel had been caught.

"My stepbrother is smart, but sometimes that is not enough.  One can
be too persistent for one's own good, a lesson he is dire need of
relearning.  I think a small part of him understands that this
obsession of his, his thirst for power, is going to one day spell his
doom, but his arrogance clouds his judgment to such a degree that he
denies the folly of his course."

"What has the woman been saying?"

"Nothing, not a word, at least with her mouth.  Her mind, on the other
hand, is quite a revelation."

"So you've been successful in penetrating through her defense?  I
tried that night, but I couldn't get a hold around it.  It was..."

"Slippery, yes, I've run into that problem myself," Jack chuckled.

"So how do you get around it?"

"Well, first thing, when you and her were doing battle she was honed
for combat.  Over the last few days I've been keeping her unconscious
most of the time, and taking my time working around her ingrained
defenses.  I haven't learned much from her, but Patel has been most
illuminating.  Just the fact that she can repel our advances as she is
able is the illuminating thing."  Jack proceeded to tell Alan what her
had learned by interrogating the Indian.

"But, but, but," Alan sputtered, "That wouldn't have worked!  He
really wanted to kill me and take my ring?  Cut my hands off?  Why
would he think that my power derived from the ring?"

"Unlike us Vessels, he knows nothing of the true nature of the Seed,
of its history, its origins.  After his first attempt failed he became
even more obsessed with the promise of the Seed, and is now willing to
do anything, not matter how rash or badly thought out the plan might
be. To a man with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail."

"So, what do we do now? Are we going to go after him, neutralize him
as a threat?"

"For now, we do nothing, at least nothing overt.  I'm going to release
Patel soon, let him go back to his master if he wants, and if he has
the balls to go back to London, he'll report to me, though I doubt
he'll risk the wrath of my brother.  The female presents a far greater
threat, and I will be concentrating my efforts on thoroughly
shattering her defenses.  When the house is ready she will be moved
there.  I had one of the small rooms in the basement made into a sort
of makeshift brig.  It's getting late.  We should adjourn for the
evening.  I'm meeting your friend Anne-Marie tomorrow," he added with
a wicked grin.

* * *

The limousine Mr. Lazarus sent arrived at ten in the morning, and
Anne-Marie was ready for it, having awakened at six.  She was nervous.
 She really did love her work at the casino, and could see herself
making a career there, but the picture Carl had painted for her, a
glamorous life filled with travel and interesting--and varied--work
had its attractions as well.  The struggle within her caused a
restless night, and so, when the summer sun rose over the shore and
filled her bedroom with early morning light she was almost relieved
that the suspense was nearly over.  She would know.  Today was the day
she would know whether she would be departing her comfortable
existence for a new more cosmopolitan way.  In the four hours between
her rising and the arrival of the car she fussed.  First over her make
up, spending more than twice her usual time applying the cosmetics,
albeit with her usual feather-light touch, and then over what to wear,
settling, after numerous false starts on a just-above-the knee tan
skirt, a matching jacket, and her fanciest, most stylish white blouse,
one that was cut low, but not too low.  She checked her hose over and
over looking for runs, putting aside three pair before finding a
completely unblemished set, and then donning them in an extremely
careful fashion.  Too nervous to eat she sat at her kitchen table,
nursing a mug of coffee for more than an hour waiting for her ride,
looking at the morning paper, but not actually focusing on it enough
to read the words.

She took the paper with her when the chauffeur had led her to the car,
and during the ride up the turnpike she managed to stanch her
nervousness enough to read it.  She was surprised when she reached the
office building that Mr. Lazarus was waiting on the pavement to meet
her, but he explained as he climbed into the car that their first
meeting was to be over lunch, and he directed the driver to a nearby
restaurant.

The lunch went well, she thought. The job, as he described it sounded
interesting, and had he asked her for a decision right then and there
she would have accepted, but he made no such gesture.  After lunch
they returned to the office and she met Karick.  Immediately she liked
him; he seemed very competent, and she was put at ease by being among
a fellow security professional, though he was reticent about clueing
her in fully to his background.  He showed her around the small
offices and gave her a brief about what her position would entail. 
Mr. Lazarus disappeared for a few hours, upstairs to his lawyer's
office he had said.  Karick drove her to her hotel around four in the
afternoon and got her checked in.  She would be meeting the board of
directors the next morning for her final interview, and tonight Mr.
Lazarus was taking her out to dinner and a show.

* * *

"Alan, she's everything you said she was," Jack enthused over the
line.

"Yeah, she's great, huh?"

"Pretty, intelligent, good at her work.  Even Karick thinks we should
hire her!  And those legs, wow!  It's very good not to be an old man
anymore."

Alan suggested he suppress her memory of Carl Sutherland.  "I think it
would make things less complicated, and anyway, she's going to know me
as Alan, so I'd rather not have to keep two stories straight in my
head."  Jack agreed.

"So, what are you going to do with her tonight?" Alan asked.

"We're going to the dinner and the theater, and then I'm going to seal
the deal.  Gotta run," he said, finishing up the call, the lascivious
tone of his voice fully transmitted.

Alan went back to his books, a high afternoon sun the only source of
illumination as he reclined on his bed.  He had to declare a major at
the end of the coming school year, and he was leaning towards
something to do with ancient history or archaeology.  The department
at Columbia for these topics is called Middle Eastern and Asian
Languages and Cultures, or MEALAC, and he had spent yesterday
afternoon browsing through its homepage, making printouts of the class
pages which had reading lists and syllabi.  He had ordered a great
many of them from Amazon, and found others in the local public
library.  Jack had even volunteered to teach him some languages,
Classical Hebrew, Aramaic, and Akkadian, and with his abilities he
would be able to take them in in no time.

He had wanted to spend the day with Kate, but when he called her
earlier in the afternoon Mrs. Van Devanter had told him she'd gone
out, not knowing where she went.  He tried to raise her by cell phone,
but it just clicked through to her voicemail each time he had called. 
They had soft plans for that evening, and he wanted to talk to her to
firm them up.

Around five o'clock in the evening he finally reached her.  She
wouldn't say where she was, telling him she had a surprise, so he
returned to his reading, losing track of time.  When he looked up from
his pages twilight was falling.  The doorbell had just rung, and he
heard his mom greet the visitors.  He got up from his desk making
towards the door, figuring it was Kate, and just as he pulled it open
she came barreling into the room, smashing into him and wrapping him
into a ferocious embrace, kissing him, and turning him around in place
all in one motion so that his back was to the door.

"So what's my surprise?"

Kate cleared his throat, and taking that signal Scarlet appeared in
the doorway.  "My I present...Miss Scarlet Cavanaugh!"

"Wow," he smiled, "Good surprise!  When did you come in?" He gave her
a peck on the cheek.

"Just now," she answered, returning the kiss.

"I was picking her up at the airport," Kate chimed in.

"So how long are you in for?"

"I'm in for good," Scarlet informed him.  "I was working for the Ohio
Environmental Protection Agency as a paid intern this summer,
collecting and analyzing water and soil samples, but the budget crunch
forced not only all of us interns being let go, but a whole bunch of
the real employees got laid off."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alan told her, sympathy drawn on his face.

"Yeah, well, that's the way the cookie crumbles, as my dad would say. 
It was a great summer, anyway.  Kate said she'd find work for me for
the next few weeks down where her dad works, so I got a flight, and
here I am."

"What about your stuff?  Don't you have to go home to pack?" Alan
asked.

"Nah," Scarlet explained, "I stored a bunch of stuff in Kate's
basement at the end of the semester, and I brought two big suitcases
with me, plus my parents have to drive my kid brother to Boston
College in a few weeks, so they'll all swing by with the rest of it."

"Yeah," Kate added, "And she's staying with me until school starts,
plus when her folks and brother come through, they're staying with us
too.  I just have to clear it with my mom, but I'm sure it'll be OK."

"ALAN!" his mom yelled from the foot of the stairs, "ARE KATE AND
SCARLET STAYING FOR DINNER?"

Kate and Scarlet nodded, and Alan went down to tell his mom.  The
girls followed, and soon Mrs. Marshall taken up Kate and Scarlet's
offer to help; Alan was given the task of making the salad, Scarlet at
setting the table, while Alan's Mom and Kate fussed over the rest of
the cooking.  Mr. Marshall got home just before seven, and they all
repaired to the dining room.  Both of Alan's parents had a great deal
of questions for Scarlet, not having met her before, so dinner took
longer than usual, and it was after half past eight before the table
was cleared and the dishes and pots in the dishwasher.

Alan was wiping dry a serving platter Scarlet had just handed to him
when Kate excused herself to use the bathroom.  She leaned closer to
him and dropped her voice.  "What happened to Kate?  She looks like a
skeleton."

"Don't worry, we're working on it.  She lost some weight on her canoe
trips, and she was thinking about keeping off, but I told her she
looked unhealthy.  Trust me, when I picked her up she was even
thinner.  Her mom even approached me and we talked about it out of
Kate's earshot.  I seems that she was anorexic during her sophomore
year in high school.  Mrs. V said it wasn't too bad a case, but she
did see a psychiatrist for more than a year."

They heard the toilet flush, and Alan continued, sotto voce, "I don't
think its that, and I've been pretty much on her to put some of the
pounds back on."  He was going to keep telling, but Kate reappeared.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" Kate asked.  She had a feeling
they had been talking about her, judging by the way they had both
clammed up upon seeing her come back, and she wanted to break the
tension.

"What's there to do in a small suburban town on a Thursday night?"
Scarlet asked.

"Well," Kate told them, "My folks are in New York for the night."

"Why is that, dear?" Mrs. Marshall asked reentering the kitchen.

"My mom's Aunt Vicky broke her hip, and she was released from the
hospital today, and the private duty nurse doesn't start until Monday,
so my folks are staying in her guest room until then."

"How `bout we rent a movie or two, pick up some ice cream?" Alan
offered.

Kate wanted to object to the ice cream, she was getting sick of it,
really, but held her tongue as she saw that Scarlet thought it was
splendid idea.  Because Alan had to phone his Uncle Lou--it was his
birthday--the girls left without him for the grocery and the video
store, thanking his mom for dinner as they left.  It wasn't until he
had hung up that he realized that he didn't have a car, his still with
Karick.  The station car was making funny noises, probably because
with Alan using it at night it had seen more miles than usual. He went
to the garage and took his single-speed off the rack on the side wall.
 It was the only bike he owned which had its original pedals, ones
which didn't require him to wear specialized cleats.

He reached the house before the girls returned, and waited for them on
the front porch.  He was surprised to find the house empty.  Conchita,
he knew, wasn't due back for a few more weeks, but he wondered about
the whereabouts of Pauline and Cal.

Kate cleared up the mystery when thy returned.  First, she had Alan
take Scarlet's heavy suitcases from the trunk of the Jetta, and then
she told him that Cal was in Philadelphia taking the tour of a few
medical schools he was interested in applying to, and Pauline was a
chaperone at a campout for her summer charges.  Alan hauled Scarlet's
stuff up to the guest bedroom while Kate fired up the DVD player, and
Scarlet scooped out the ice cream.  Alan was pleased that the one of
the pints the girls had bought was pistachio, his favorite flavor. 
The film was "Secretary," which surprised him, as it was very risqu�. 
As they watched the movie Alan plunged into Kate's mind.  She had, he
learned, never gotten her courage up to take Scarlet to bed.  Dipping
into the redhead's thoughts he learned that Scarlet didn't even know
Kate was bi.  He was also surprised to find out that Scarlet had been
sleeping with guys over the summer, well, just one, but it was still a
surprise nonetheless.

The film was making Kate hot.  The scene where the lawyer spanked the
secretary and then jerked off over her ass was kind of gross, but on
the whole she was turned on.  Alan hadn't tied her up at all since she
returned from Maine, and now with Scarlet's arrival she wouldn't get
the opportunity to fuck him tonight.  She rubbed her legs together,
hoping neither of her companions would notice; Alan did.

After the movie was over Kate took the bowls into the kitchen and
washed up.

"So, your job was good, I mean besides the budget cuts?"

"Yeah," Scarlet answered.  "Commuting sixty miles to Columbus five
days a week was draining, but I liked it, and I made some good
friends, well, one, really."  She blushed.

Alan arched an eyebrow, though he didn't betray that he knew Scarlet
had been fucking a guy while home for the summer.  "Good friend?  Does
she have a name?" he asked, eliciting a blush.

"Jeremy," she croaked, embarrassed as all get out.  Kate had always
told her that Alan could see right through a person, and this was the
first time she had experienced it first hand.  They way he looked at
her, the arched eyebrow, the inflection in his voice when he asked the
question, it was like he was penetrating her innermost thoughts.

"Jeremy, interesting name for a girl," he kidded.  "So, tell me about
him."

Kate called over from the kitchen, asking each of them if they wanted
a beverage, listing off what was in the fridge, and Alan asked for a
root beer, Scarlet for a diet coke.

"He's from the next town over, a junior at Ohio State, and we
carpooled.  One day I would pick him up, and the next he would come
get me."

"Who're you talking about?" Kate asked, coming back in.

"Scarlet's boyfriend."

"I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Did you sleep with him?" Alan asked, his expression sly.

"That's none of your business!" was her shocked retort, but he was
looking at her again, that same piercing glance.  "Well, um, OK, yeah,
we, uh, yeah."

"Scarlet!" Kate exclaimed, a faux horror in her voice.  "What happened
to `Lesbian until graduation?'"

"Well, you see," she started, grasping for an explanation,
"Technically, I wasn't in school, you see, and uh, he was, uh, is,
really cute, and you see, really good at, you know, uh good in, uh,
bed."  The color on her face matched that of her name, as she kept on
sputtering.

"So, are you and this Jeremy a couple?" Kate asked, taking a seat
after handing out the cans of soda and placing a bowl of fruit along
with a bowl of pretzels on the table in front of them.

"No, it was just a summer thing.  Long distance relationships suck."

"Oh, poor baby," Kate said sympathetically, stroking the other girl's
red hair.

"Oh, Kate, it wasn't like that.  We agreed to, uh, hang out again next
summer, or maybe this Christmas break, if both of us were still
single."

"So you're no longer an LUG?" Alan asked.

"I'm not sure," Scarlet admitted.  She hadn't been with another woman
since the school year had ended, mostly because she wasn't ready to
reveal that part of herself to her friends and family back home, and
that made finding a willing female partner impossible over the summer.
 She was beginning to get confused.  Was Kate just being nice to her,
or was she coming on to her?  They had shared a room for ten months,
and never had her roommate held her they way she was doing now.  Even
more confusing was the fact that her boyfriend, a boyfriend Scarlet
knew Kate was madly in love with, was sitting five feet away, watching
them from his seat in an overstuffed den chair, and amused look on his
face.

"I uh, found that I missed being with a guy, and," she paused
shivering as Kate's hands migrated down to her back, massaging it
gently.  Her nipples popped out, so she hugged herself so he wouldn't
see.  "I uh still like girls, very much, and uh, I think a small part
of me wanted to sleep with a guy so I would see if I, uh, really
wanted just to be an LUG, or maybe see if I was becoming an out and
out `L,' you know?.  Kate, what ARE you doing?"

Kate had managed to untuck Scarlet's t-shirt from her jeans during
Scarlet's explanation, and was now under the fabric.

"I never told you," Kate began, "But last year, after you told me
about you and Jessica, ah, doing it, I began to have fantasies about
doing another girl.  Right before spring semester started Alan and I
had a threesome with this really really cute grad student he knows." 
She punctuated this revelation with a lazy swipe of her tongue across
Scarlet's earlobe.

"Really?" Scarlet gasped in a breathy whisper.

Alan nodded.  Kate popped her bra clasp.

"Hey guys, I'm not sure about this."

"Why?" Kate teased, licking her again on the ear.  Scarlet shuddered,
feeling her panties moisten.

"Well," Scarlet began, marshaling her thoughts, "When you and Alan and
the grad student had that, ah ah ah, threesome," she started as Kate
began distracting her by playing with her pointy nipples, "You were
just--JESUS that feels nice.  What was I saying?  Oh ummmmmm, yah, you
weren't really a couple yet.  But now."

Kate cut her off, "But nothing," she insisted, ending the conversation
with a tender kiss, which Scarlet returned with passion.

* * *

Jack put on his jacket and stowed his necktie in the left pocket.  The
night had been a success in more ways than one.  Over a pre-theater
dinner at Picholine Anne-Marie had agreed to come work for him.  She
would be in charge of his personal security force, as well as being a
consultant to Cyaxares, reporting to Karick.  He had made a
significant breakthrough with the Japanese woman, penetrating her
memories for the first time earlier in the day, and the sex he had
just had with Anne-Marie, his first since his resurrection, was
smashing.

He had dismissed the driver at the theater, with the intention of
walking her back to her hotel after the curtain fell.  All through the
show, a new musical, one which featured puppets having sex, no less,
but one which had garnered excellent reviews, he had slowly increased
her level of arousal, reducing it when the play ended, but only
slightly.  They chatted as they walked up Seventh Avenue towards
Central Park South, where the hotel was located.

Using his mind to distract her she didn't even realize that her new
boss was walking her up to her room.

"So," he began, his voice soothing, "To a new beginning."  He had
opened the mini-bar and poured out two nightcaps.  She glanced over
the rim of her glass as she took a sip.  He was very handsome,
different from the guys she was regularly attracted to.  His brown
hair was salted with bits of gray, but that would have been more
noticeable if it wasn't cut as short as it was.  There was a rugged
quality about his face, and he had a strong chin.  His eyes, in her
opinion, were perhaps his most alluring feature, a steely blue, almost
gray.  He was older than the men she had previously dated, but that
just made him seem more debonair in her eyes.  "Salut," she answered
his toast before taking a sip.

Suddenly he was closer.  She could feel his whisky-scented breath on
her face.  "Welcome to the team, welcome to the big city, Anne-Marie."

She kissed him, softly on the lips, both of their mouths closed.  It
was a fleeting buss, in no way obscene, but she recoiled.  "I
shouldn't have done that, sir."

"Quite alright, quite alright," he answered, holding his ground.  They
were still standing face-to-face inches apart.  He put his hand on her
bare shoulder, brushing her hair off of it and leaned in.  This time
their mouths opened as they came together, and by the time she broke
it off she was panting slightly.

"Sir..."

"Call me Jack.  I don't stand on ceremony."  He leaned in again, but
she retreated.

"Sir...Jack, we shouldn't be doing this."

"I wont tell if you wont," he joked, pressing his mouth to hers.  He
arousal returned, and she slipped her tongue past his lips, tasting
him, tasting the slight sour flavor of the liquor.  His hands ran up
her back and she shivered in the embrace.  A terrible thought flooded
her mind.  Carl Sutherland had pimped her to this man.  She tried to
break away, but he resisted.  With more force she extricated herself
from his arms and turned her back on him, stomping over to the window
and looking out on the beautiful city, a small tear staining her
cheek, her mascara ruined.

"What's the matter, Anne-Marie?"

"Is this a set-up?" she sobbed.  Carl had done this to her, too. 
Seduced her.  Now it seemed like he was just passing her around.  She
didn't love Carl, but he had been her lover, and now feelings of
betrayal were welling up inside her.  She was nobody's whore.  Shit,
even her current arousal was similar to when she was around Carl.  She
felt she had been manipulated, and she didn't like it.

"Carl?  Who is Carl?" Jack asked, sincerity dripping from his voice.

"Pardon?" she asked bewildered.  In an instant all memory of Carl
Sutherland was wiped clean from her mind by the man a few feet away
wielding the power of the Seed of Paishiya'uvada, the third Seed, the
Seed first given to Cyaxares of Akkad.  She crossed the carpet to
stand near him again.  "Where were we?" she asked with a smile.  He
arms encircled her again as their mouths met, and she held his wrists
briefly, guiding his hands down to cup her ass.  She was very horny,
her previous upset completely vacated.  Soon he had maneuvered her
over to the bed, his jacket strewn over a chair, her heels left by the
window.  He was strong, she felt in her bones, and not just
physically.  He had a magnetism about him she had noticed upon their
meeting.  His lips and tongue explored her neck, some of her most
sensitive locations, and she writhed and moaned in arousal.  Her hands
were all over him, feeling him through the soft cotton his shirt,
scrabbling fingers dispensing with the buttons.  After she had
stripped him to the waist her hands explored his chest.  He had a very
good body for a man his age, which she pegged somewhere in the
mid-forties, hard but not bulging muscles, a sprinkling of soft brown
hair covering his pecs and middle, tapering off as it wended its way
down to his navel.  She bent forward and licked one of his nipples,
bringing out the desired response.

He lifted her onto the bed and knelt on the bedspread next to her.  He
held her left leg in his hands, slowly working at removing her
stocking.  He took the top of it, which came to an end just above her
knee, and gently started rolling it up.  In less than a minute both
were off, and she shucked up her hips as his hands rested against the
waistband of her panties, allowing him to get them off her.  He moved
north, raising the hem of her dress up, and she held her arms straight
of as he stripped it off her.  His mouth came to rest in her cleavage,
and to her surprise and delight he managed the to undo the closure
with his teeth.  She giggled at that, and he shot her a devastatingly
handsome smile.  She felt gooey between her legs as she reached over
to him and unbuckled his belt, then fought his hands off so she
herself could get his pants open.  They both laughed at that, the
light giving off from the fixture sparkling off his unusually colored
irises.  As their tongues danced against each other's she was aware
that he was taking off his pants, and she had no objection.  Down to
his shorts he pushed her back against the mattress and crouched
between her legs, licking at her moist center.

"Oooh, that feels nice!" she exclaimed as he tongued her pussy, adding
his moisture to her own.  Her hips bucked up and her clit was crushed
against the flesh of his nose.  She howled in delight and repeated the
action after hearing no complaint from his end.  Through two gasping,
screaming orgasms he licked her with no let up, and she was covered
with a shiny sheen of sweat before she pushed him away.  He rolled
over next to her and they kissed again, and this time she tasted
herself, not single-malt on his mouth.  The idea of it turned her on
even more.  As he settled against the headboard she pulled off his
underwear and began to lick his rod with soft small strokes.  He
moaned her name aloud, which cheered her to no end.

After a few minutes she felt a hand on her shoulder.  "Anne-Marie,
you'd better stop.  I don't want to...finish...like this."

She came off him with a pop and looked him square in the eye, a loopy
grin plastered across her face.  "Jack, do you have a problem getting
it up?  Getting it up again?"

"Not in the slightest, my dear. Not in the slightest."

"Then lay back and let me finish."

He came in her mouth and she swallowed it down in a nasty gulp, and to
her glee she noticed he barely softened after the orgasm.  She
straddled him and rubbed her wet slit against his cock.  Soon it was
as hard as before, and he brought his hands up to hold her at the
hips, guiding her over his erection, the head poised at her soaked
entrance.

"Do it," she moaned, "P-please."

He pulled her down, penetrating her, his groin rising to meet hers.  A
shock of electricity went through her, or so it felt, as he began to
fuck her with long even strokes.  He was a better lover than that guy,
whatshisname, she mused, though it was a fleeting thought as she
swiftly approached orgasm.

"Aieeeeeeeeeee!" she screeched as her pussy contracted, clamping down
around his hot cock.  He paused in his motions, letting her spasms
pass before continuing, but soon he repositioned himself, him on top,
thrusting between her clammy thighs.  She was tiring quickly, and glad
to be underneath now as the pace of his fucking accelerated, bringing
her closer and closer to release as the minutes wore on.  She felt him
tense above her and she exploded again as he spent himself within her.

They snuggled for awhile, each unable or unwilling to speak for a
moment.

She broke the silence.  "Wow.  I mean, wow!  That was, well, wow!"

"I'm glad you liked it, Anne-Marie," he whispered, tilting her head
and giving her a small kiss on the tip of her nose.

She giggled.

"I'm glad I took this job."

"You speak for both of us, I assure you."

She sighed and began to drowse in his arms, her silky hair rubbing
against his shoulder. He held her for awhile before rising.  The
Japanese assassin was awaiting him, and it was unwise to leave her
without proper supervision for long stretches of time.  Before he left
her wrote a short note on hotel stationary for Anne-Marie.  He checked
his left pocket again, assuring himself he wasn't forgetting his tie,
and then made a quick stop in the bathroom, stealing one of the
hotel's washcloths, stowing it in the right pocket of his jacket.  He
clicked off the bedroom light and quietly shut the door so as not to
wake Anne-Marie.  The curtains were blocking the rising sun as it
tried to infiltrate the room.

* * *
She had always been attracted to Kate, even before she knew she was
bi, but Kate had-- for as long as she had know her--Alan, so she never
even dreamed that what was now happening would ever possibly happen. 
Her eyes closed, she found herself lost in the kiss.

This was so weird, Scarlet thought as the worked their way up the
stairs to Kate's bedroom.  Kate had spent the last five minutes
kissing her and mauling her on the couch.  Now here she was, topless,
Kate holding by the hand, leading her up to her bed.  Alan was acting
strange as well.  He just sat there across from them, a wry smile on
his face.  Kate had wiggled her way behind her, and she found herself
resting her back against Kate's large firm breasts.  She had half
expected to feel the nipple rings, but the fabric of the bra obscured
them.  She felt a hand work the snap on her jeans, and the other
rubbing circularly, rhythmically on her tummy.  She took a deep breath
as Kate drew down the zipper; Kate smelled really nice.  Alan was
watching still, not doing anything; it was unnerving, but she stared
at him, finding that she couldn't look away from the amused expression
he was showing.  Kate licked the back of her ear as she snaked a few
fingers under the waistband of her panties; her eyelids clamped down
and she shuddered as those digits made gentle contact with her wet
center.  The pad of Kate's index finger came to a halt resting on her
burning clit, and Scarlet could feel her stickiness seep through her
panties and trickle down her thighs.

"Kate," she called out, half in whisper, half in moan.  "Kate,
p-please."  The black-haired girl's answer was to bring her other hand
to the red-furred pussy and worm a finger in as she continued to
massage the clit.  "P-please," she entreated again, tears of pleasure
running uncontrollable down her freckled face.  Kate made a long and
lazy sweep around her ear again, causing her to shudder with even
greater intensity, finishing off by taking the lobe between her lips
and giving a playful suck.  Trembling, Scarlet tried again.

"P-p-please, K-kate," Scarlet sobbed.  Through her blurry eyes she saw
that Alan was unstirred.  Blinking through her tears, unable to
articulate herself she focused on his face, trying to get a message to
him without having to speak.  This attempt was complicated, in fact
compromised, because even if she could get a meaning across she had no
idea what that would be.  She parted her lips in an effort to say
something, but Kate was moving, no longer behind her, but right at her
side; her hands continued their manipulation despite the shift.  As
she finally concentrated the will to open her mouth Kate shifted her
body slightly, tilted her head, and kissed her, her tongue swirling
about behind Scarlet's teeth.  Scarlet moaned into the kiss, her body
shivering in pleasure.  Out of the corner of her eye she could still
see him sitting placidly, like this sort of thing happened every day. 
Kate broke the kiss and began kissing and licking her neck, and she
gasped.  Her verbal abilities returned.  "What are you doing?" she
croaked.

Kate looked her right in the eye and gave her a quick kiss on the
lips, "Whatever you want."

Kate's face filled her whole field of vision, and she blinked a few
more times in rapid succession, trying to gather herself.  "Why am I
fighting this?" was the only thought running through her bliss-addled
brain.  She closed her eyes trying to summon another thought, but
Kate's lips had returned to her own, and she returned the kiss.  Her
whole body shuddered with a mini-tremor, her hips grinding her pubis
into Kate's palm.  Suddenly Scarlet felt Kate pull away, her hand
removed, her lips gone.  Scarlet's eyes fluttered open in time to see
her roommate stand and take the first step towards the stairs.  Alan
remained in place.  Scarlet realized she was panting.  She could feel
individual beads of her own moisture clinging to her crotch and upper
thighs.

She was confused.  Why did Kate stop?  Why was she leaving?  Where was
she going?  She looked at Alan with questioning eyes, but he was
riveted to the sight of the retreating Kate.  Scarlet turned her head
to follow his gaze.  Kate was taking her time moving to the stairs
leading up to the bedrooms.  Without thinking, without actually making
a decision, Scarlet hoisted her butt off the couch and fell in line
behind Kate.  Kate was now a few steps up, and when Scarlet reached
the foot of the stairs she heard him move in the background.  She
twisted around, and to her surprise saw that Alan was tidying up the
living room, collecting the empty cans, picking up stray bits of snack
food, and the like.  She resumed following Kate, bewildered, but
taking her offered hand.

The upstairs was dark, the only light coming from Kate's bedroom. 
Scarlet moved slowly, because she was unsure of her steps in the
dimmed hallway, and because if she were to walk any faster her
unbuttoned jeans would fall down.  Kate stopped her just inside the
door, and Scarlet was greeted with a french kiss, Kate's hands busy
beneath with her chest once more.  They could faintly hear Alan moving
about downstairs, but Scarlet could tell Kate was paying it no mind. 
She shivered in the coolness of the heavily air-conditioned room.

Kate led her to the bed and put her almost limp body in a sitting
position on the edge of the mattress, kneeling on the carpet to grab
the blue jeans at the cuffs.  With an almost violent flourish Kate
yanked the pants right off of her friend, and then was up, pouncing
like a great tiger.  Scarlet was now on her back, Kate lying right on
top of her.  Kate grabbed her head and held it still as their lips met
again.

Scarlet lost all sense of time as they made out on the bed.  She had
no idea how long they had been embracing before Kate slithered down
her body, giving her rock hard nipples a tweak as she did so.  She
raised her ass of the bed to allow Kate to remove her sopping panties,
and squealed as she felt Kate's tongue part her cleft.

She wanted to watch, so she propped herself up on her elbows, knowing
she wouldn't be able to sustain the effort for long.  She could only
see Kate's lustrous black hair busy at the apex of her thighs, but she
could certainly feel the magic her mouth was doing.  Just before her
stamina failed her she saw him enter the room.  In a way, he was
coming to help, and he stood beside her next to the bed, repositioning
Kate's pillows so she didn't have to hold herself up any longer.  Then
he retreated to the foot of the bed and began undressing Kate,
starting with the sneakers and shorts.  Kate slowed her licking,
shifting so Alan could strip her properly, and Scarlet moaned in
disappointment when Kate lifted her head from her crotch so Alan could
removed Kate's t-shirt and bra, dropping all the garments in a mound
on the floor.  Kate returned her face to Scarlet's pussy, and the
red-haired girl sighed with satisfaction.  She was nearing her peak,
her hips a dervish of motion as she rubbed her womanhood into Kate's
eager mug.  "Ohhhh!  That feels s-s-s-s-o, mmmmmmmmmmmm!" she moaned
as her body bucked with arousal.

As she returned to earth she realized that Alan hadn't yet joined them
on the bed, but she was in no condition to ask because Kate's tongue
was rapidly sending her into orbit again.  He body shook with orgasm
again, and she melted into the bedding, too exhausted to move a whit. 
Kate's body covered her again, and she found herself licking her own
juices off the other girl's face, though slowly, as she had little
energy.

"Kate?" she asked between licks.

"What, baby?"

"Is he just going to watch?"

Kate slid off her body and turned to Alan, who had seated himself in
the armchair near the door of the bedroom.  "Well, how `bout it,
champ?" she asked him with a playful wink.  "What's the holdup?"

"Just waiting for an invitation, s'all," he chuckled.

Kate turned back to Scarlet.  "So?  Should we invite him?"

Scarlet nodded weakly, just happy to be following Kate's lead in this.
 Alan moved to the bed, and Scarlet was between them.  Each of them
took one of Scarlet's pink nipples in their mouths and began to suck
gently, causing Scarlet to sigh.  Alan lifted his head and suddenly
Scarlet found herself kissing him, their tongues dueling as they
explored each others mouths; she could taste the last residue of root
beer in him as her eyes fluttered shut.  Kate was fingering her
tenderly, and her thighs closed around the invading hand, holding it
tightly to her.  Her eyes snapped open as Alan broke the kiss and Kate
wrestled her hand away at the same moment.  She looked both of them in
the eyes, one at a time, as she felt Kate's hands on her knees,
parting them for Alan to settle between, and then turned her focus
downward as she watched him disrobe and maneuver his penis, the
biggest one she had ever seen, her foggy mind was able to note, to the
outer lips of her red-haired pussy.

"He'll kill me with that thing," Scarlet gasped, addressing Kate.

Kate stroked her hair reassuringly, "No baby, you're wet enough. 
Don't worry, I should know."

Alan fed a little bit of his cock into her and she felt her petals
part to allow him the entry.  He was thick, wider than to what she was
accustomed, the feelings a mix of pleasure and discomfort, though
biased to the former of the two; a small tear began to roll down her
face, but Kate swiftly licked it away.

"Do you want some more?" Alan asked, concern evident in the tenor of
his voice.  Scarlet nodded, and she grabbed Kate hard as more of
Alan's dick invaded her.  Alan took his time, slowly feeding his cock
into her dripping channel, and Scarlet gasped and moaned at the
progress.  It took more than a few minutes of rocking in and out
before all of Alan was inside her, and when that happened Scarlet
looked up to see Kate taking position over her, presenting her shaved
pussy to the now upturned face.  As Scarlet began to tentatively lick
the smooth lips Alan began to pull out and push in, at first using far
less than half his length, but gradually building speed and using
nearly all of his shaft.  Kate faced Alan, and the leaned into each
other as he fucked Scarlet and she rode her face.  As Alan kissed
Kate, Scarlet sucked her to a quivering orgasm, and her shouts echoed
off the bedroom walls; neither Alan slowed the pace of his fucking,
nor Scarlet the slithering of her tongue in and around Kate's pussy.

As Kate steadied herself against Alan, her hands gripping his
shoulders to stay upright, she felt Scarlet moan into her pussy, and
could feel her quiver and shake in a mighty climax.  Now it Alan's
turn to be kept upright as he growled and came in Scarlet's trembling
depths.  He was leaning against Kate, who was pushing back so he
wouldn't topple.

Scarlet was having trouble breathing steady as Alan and Kate
dismounted from her.  She watched as Kate reached over to the
nightstand and turned off the lamp.  In the dark Kate nudged her over
and laid down; the cuddled, Alan on the other side of Kate, holding
her.  Scarlet was asleep within minutes.

* * *

The sun was rising higher over the East River as Jack approached the
office building.  He bought a pair of cheap sunglasses from a West
African street vendor right after leaving the hotel, so he wasn't
bothered by the glare.

As he expected, Harriet, Stan's secretary was already in the office as
he entered, but what she was doing took him aback.  She was hammering
away at the lock on the steel door with her stapler.

"What are you doing?" he asked, alarmed.

"Hmm?  What?" she asked.  Her eyes were glassy, and as he interrupted
her she came to realize her surroundings.  Jack sent her back to his
desk, removing the commands the girl had implanted there.

"So," he thought, "She is awake.  Awake and scheming."  He went to the
bathroom and wet the washcloth with cold water.  Back in the office he
unlocked the door and entered, not turning on the overhead lights,
just the small desk lamp.  She was feigning sleep.  He wiped her
forehead of sweat and grime with cloth, then pulled a chair over to
the couch where she was bound.

"You cannot fool me, young lady."

She made no movement.  Jack peered into her memories; she resisted.

He could see it now, in the chapel of the monastery, on a raised
wooden platform in the middle of the room, surrounded by dozens of
prayer mats.  A piece of black glass resting on a cushion.  Twenty or
more of the monastery's residents bent in prayer, with some sort of
energy emanating from the crystal, washing over their prostrate forms.

"Perhaps the source of their powers, this energy," Jack thought as he
attempted to probe farther into her mind.

A meeting, in the abbot's office.

"Ouch!" he swore, rubbing the pain out of his forehead.  This memory
she was desperately trying to protect.

He pulled the door closed behind him, and sent Harriet out for coffee.
 Try as the assassin might, her resistance would crumble, and he would
learn the secret of the meeting with the abbot.  It was just a matter
of time.

* * *

Next Chapter: Sophomore year

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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