%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Training Days"  "I haven't the manpower to infiltrate more than one," you remind the professor. "Not without cannibalizing one of my neighbors, and that would be a bad idea. Both have high profiles, and no one wants Kali Valentine nearby if something happens to even one of them." He purses his lips. "We are tying up considerable resources—" "You wished to make the investment, professor. Did you think it would come cheap?" His eyes sharpen, and for a moment you think you see the predator you always knew lurked beneath his smooth exterior. But then he covers it with a tight smile. "I did not," he said. "I only ask that you consider the return on that investment, and strive to maximize it. Even if you can afford only one more infiltration at the moment, I urge you to take it." "I'm not going to rush into anything." You feel yourself slipping further from Kali's personality. Not that it matters, but it irritates you that Hyde-White has bothered you that far. "If I'm caught—if any of us get caught—it won't just be us who get it in the neck. The Stellae will burn Fane to the ground." The professor's lips twist with amusement. "Will they?" Your heart goes very cold in your chest. "Underestimate them at your peril, professor," you retort, and are only dimly aware of the Scots burr that blurs your voice. "They have tolerated Fane this long as a matter of policy, not necessity. They prefer to know where the serpents nest, and how many they are, that they may scotch them at their leisure and in the confidence of success. I cannae even guarantee they know not already of this little project. But if we are discovered, and they recognize their own mortal peril, they will not only lay bloody the axe against our roots for vengeance, but for their own safety's sake. No, professor," you conclude, "I daren't move so fast so recklessly wi'out fair confidence in my own safety. In all our safety." You're pleased to see that your warning has sobered him up. He even looks—and this is a very rare reaction from the professor—a little discomfited. "Well," he says. "You're our man on the spot and best placed to judge. You have my complete confidence. I only want you to understand my thinking." He wrenches a smile back onto his face. "And I trust I do. But you must be patient, professor." "There is one other matter consider, however," he says. "It is not only Diana's manpower that is tied up in this project. You have one of our researchers there as well." So, you think, Plante's been bitching to the boss. "Then I will infiltrate our last man and send him home," you say aloud. "But if we don't have the tech here when we decide to expand—" "But you don't know when that will be." His shrewd smile suggests he thinks he has scored a point. "No," you confess. "And I don't want to keep the tech here if he is unhappy. But we all have sacrifices to make." Then you have a thought, and ask, "But difficult is it to operate the machinery? Cannot we—Cox and I and the rest of us—be trained on it? Then Dr. Plante could return to London." The professor's reaction shows no surprise. Instead, it suggests that he had rather you not have had that idea. "No," he says. "We would rather each cobbler stick to his own. Nevertheless, I am told that Dr. Plante is growing restless, so we will rotate him out and another in. I will also send along two more of your colleagues, so that they will be on hand should opportunities arise." That is effectively the end of the discussion, and after a few closing pleasantries, you exit the session. It was an interesting talk, and you meditate briefly to clear and organize your mind before rising to stride from the office, your heels clicking smartly on the hardwood floor. As you enter the hallway, you pause before a door that is closed tight. As you linger, Gabriel appears at the other end of the hallway with a querying expression. You point to the door and mouth Who? He makes a face and mouths back, Plante. You roll your eyes and join him in the living room. "London's calling him back, sending out a new elf to replace him," you say, "along with two more agents. You're going to be up to your armpits here." "Why can't they just leave the machine and let us operate it?" "That's what I asked, and only got a proverb back. But I'll tell you why. They're scared we'll take the machine and the bodies and set up shop on our own." Gabriel's gaze turned hooded and thoughtful. "You see that look on your face?" you tell him. "That's the look they're terrified of." He blanches a little. "But what are they worried about?" he asks. "If any of us wanted to run, we could've run before." "No we couldn't," you retort. "You forget about that detonation patch they tattooed to the back of your neck when you joined? That's why none of us ever ran. We knew they could remote blow our heads off." He smiles, and in its reptilian curves you finally recognize Liu behind Gabriel's face. "And I thought we stayed because the dental plan was aces," he sneers. Then, more soberly, he asks, "Do you think they'll slap some of those tats onto these bodies?" You give the question some short thought, then only reply, "Whatever bodies we wind up in, yes, you can count on it getting a tat. Speaking of tats, who around here is still wearing some?" "White." "Then tell Plante to pull Cox out and put White in." "My husband's having dinner with a client, but I'll set it up when he gets back. Does this mean you're ready to take Cox off the bench?" "Yes. We're about to have some visitors, and I want the last kid sewed up tight. You have a loaded snoozegun I can take back?" He leads you into a kind of den, and gives you one from the fancy roll-top desk. You check it for charge, and hook it into the top of your skirt under your blouse. Then you relax back into your assumed persona, and shake yourself loose. "Well, this has been a delightful afternoon, Gabriel, and I thank you for your hospitality," you enthuse. "I must have you and your husband over soon in gratitude." You put out your hand. He puts out his own hand. Then he jerks it back at the last moment, and looks alarmed. You laugh and let yourself out. * * * * * You hide the snoozegun in your office, then go to the kitchen to prepare supper—leftovers. As you eat, you look over the afternoon's artistic efforts from the girl. "This is quite good, Punthali," you congratulate her as you study a sketch she made in pastel chalks. Though impressionistic rather than realistic, it clearly evokes a pastoral scene: a small glade, overhung with gloomy trees and thick with ferns and weeds, in the midst of which sits a crumbling stone bench. But a shaft of light flickers over the bench, warming it and the atmosphere. "Is this someplace you know?" you ask, and you have to tear your eyes from it, for it exerts an almost gravitational attraction upon your senses. She hesitates, then leans over to ask Vidya a quick question. Vidya nods, and Punthali says "No" and points to her temple, implying (you suppose) that she only imagined it. "It is very beautiful," you say. "I would like to visit there." The words surprise you as soon as you utter them. That would have been Kali's thought. But is it yours as well? "And what do you have to show me?" you ask Vidya, and she hands you a sheet of paper covered in a dense network of lines. "It was too big to bring in here," she explains, "but this is the design." You cannot fathom it, and ask what it is a design for. But she only dimples and says, "For the thing. It's not done yet." After eating, you send Punthali in for her bath and ask Vidya to show you what she made. But instead, after the bathroom door is closed, you lead her to your office. From the drawer you take the snoozegun and show it to her. Her eyes widen. "For Punthali?" she asks. The side of her mouth rises into a sour smile. "Nice," she adds when you nod. "Why? Has she been pulling your hair?" "Nah. Just that'll make this place secure." "I still want you in character," you warn her. "Oh, sure," she says. Then she puts out her hand to stroke the stock of the pistol. "When will we do it?" "During our meditation." "Can I do it?" The question startles you. "Why?" That twisted smile appears again on Vidya's face. "Oh, just 'cos," she says. "After that, I promise I'll be good!" "Hmph. Not too good," you retort. "I told you, I'll want you in character. We're going to have visitors in a few days, and we must all be on our most perfect behavior for Frank and Miko." Her eyes widen, and then she giggles. "How much in character do you want me to be?" she asks. "Vidya has a crush on Frank!" * * * * * "Five. Four. Three. Two. One." Punthali's head droops. You shift your eyes to meet Vidya's. From the back of the waistband of her pajamas she draws the snoozegun, and gets onto her knees. She leans across the space between herself and her sister, and puts the tip to the side of Punthali's neck. There's a soft click, and Punthali tumbles onto her side. You catch her. "Who gets to be her?" Vidya asks as you scoop the third of your trio into your arms, and stagger to your feet. "Cox." But you're sure that will just be temporary. Hyde-White said nothing during your talk, but you could sense it behind his impatience. Every Stellae body, you are sure, is ultimately destined for him and the other members of Fane's board of directors. Next: Coming soon! Check back! |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
