🚀 go-pugleaf

[And we're back, continued from Part I! Yay!]


    "Hey, Pop.  You wanted to know when Momentum left, right?"
    Mason Kramer, AKA Phobos, AKA Pop (only to Jenny) looked up
from the datapad.  "Yeah?"
    "Well..." Jenny rezzed in.  "She's left."
    "Oh.  Cool.  Thanks."  He nodded, then looked back down to
the datapad, hmming.
    "Pop?"
    "Yeah?"
    Jenny took a seat on the desk.  "What's wrong?"
    Phobos put the datapad down.  "Hmm...several things, I
suppose.  Exposing my secret identity on national television has
me a bit antsy, for one thing.  I mean, it's nice not to have to
worry about it and all, but what if it causes problems for Mom?"
    "Well, that's why you made sure she had decent security on
the house and that she's got a communicator in her watch and all,
right?"
    "Yeah, I know...still worried a bit.  Weirdly, that's not the
big worry, though."
    "And the big worry is?"
    "Momentum.  What if we're wrong about her? We're not just
inviting her into our group. We're inviting her into our home,
our lives...What if she uses that against us? It sounded like a
great idea when we came up with it, and almost everyone on the
team liked and agreed with it, but..."
    "Hmm.  But now that it's actually been implemented, you're
having second thoughts?"
    "...Yeah."
    "You worry too much."
    Phobos blinked.  "Huh?"
    Jenny got up and walked around the room a bit, only
occasionally overlapping with the equipment in the room.  "Just
what I said.  You worry too much.  Okay, so she's a thief.  She's
not a killer, and even goes out of her way to keep people from
getting hurt.  Frankly, the worst we have to worry about is her
running away."  She stopped moving and turned to face Mason.
"Which is the reason you came up with the plan in the first
place, because you weren't worried about her running away, you
were worried about what prison could do to someone who's only a
little grey."  She paused for a second for effect, not because
she needed the time to think of her next sentence, then said,
"Besides, you did the same for Roger."
    "Yeah, and look what happened to him."
    "He's a true hero."
    "He got disintegrated two weeks after we took him in, Jenny."
    Jenny rolled her eyes.  "You know what your problem is, Pop?"
    "What?"
    "You dwell on the negative too much.  Why, I'll bet when Mom
came back, all you did was dwell on the fact that I was gone."
    "Er...no comment."
    "Which means I'm right."  Jenny giggled, then said, "And
speaking of Mom, she's about to go to lunch and wants to know if
you want to join her."
    Mason jumped out of the chair and turned off his datapad.  He
was halfway out the door when he turned and said, "Hey, Jenny?"
    "Hmm?"
    "Thanks.  You're right.  I worry a lot.  I'm team leader.
It's my job."  He winked, then headed out of the room.


    <<Healer? Momentum's on her way up.>>
    "Thank you, JOEL."  Elizabeth closed the folder of fund
acquisition forms she'd been working on and pulled Momentum's
file over.  She didn't need to review the information in there,
but she wanted the folder there in case she needed to update
anything.  She opened it and glanced at Momentum's transcript
again.
    There was a lot of information about Momentum hidden away in
that dry list of grades, Elizabeth thought, not for the first
time.  Any classes directly related to her field of study --
which was psychology, which didn't fit her original analysis of
Momentum -- she'd earned mostly A's, a couple of B's.  Any
unrelated subjects -- geography, english, and especially math --
were more likely to earn C's and D's.  There weren't any F's on
the college transcript.
    The high school transcript, on the other hand, was mostly A's
with a scattering of B's...and a D- in Calculus I, followed by an
A in Calculus II.  Elizabeth's best guess was that the school
catered to the track star, handing her grades on a silver
platter, and only one teacher protested, after which she didn't
again have that teacher.
    Some minor insights, but very important.  If Momentum was
interested in something, she'd apply herself, and if not, she'd
do the bare minimum to get by.  Well, Elizabeth had dealt with
that before, and likely would again.  The interest in psychology
was surprising, until you factored in the four years that she saw
a psychiatrist while she was in high school.  She was sure that
the more immediate answer, though, had to do with her sister, and
the way Momentum had changed her name when she turned 18.
    There was a knock on the door.  "Come in," she called,
looking up as her newest student opened the door.  She smiled
warmly, trying to put the younger woman at ease.  "Alice.  Thank
you for coming so promptly."
    "Uhm...Yeah.  Well, it was either that or...hmm...Guess there
really weren't any other options, were there? You kinda have me
at your mercy 'till the end of the probation period, you know?"
Momentum's eyes darted around nervously, noting that there were
two other doors in the room.  One was likely a back door to the
office, the other a closet.  No telling which was which without
trying them, though.  She had a seat, uninvited.
    Elizabeth noted that the door was still open and caught
herself before suggesting that Momentum close it.  The girl was
fidgeting, obviously nervous about being alone with her.  If she
was more comfortable with the door open, let it stay open.  No
one would walk in while there was a student in the office with
her, door open or not.
    It was interesting to watch her.  She was trying to relax, but
she wasn't quite able to manage, so she fidgeted.  As she had
reflexes somewhere in the vicinity of 30 times human normal, she
was virtually a blur in her seat, shifting from side to side,
crossing and recrossing her legs, crossing her arms, putting her
hands in her lap, idly toying with the arm of her chair...it was
almost like watching the Dash in slow motion.
    After a moment of this, Elizabeth realized she was staring
and shook her head slightly to clear it.  "Whether you have to be
here or not, promptness is still appreciated."
    "Right.  So, now that I'm here, and on time and all...what do
you want?"
    "Well, I was hoping we could talk and get used to each other
a bit, since we're going to be working together a lot in the
immediate future."
    Panic spike.  "Right.  Sure.  Makes sense."
    "And, of course, I needed to ask a few questions.  First of
all, what prior experience do you have with psychiatrists?"
    "I spent a few years in therapy.  And, uh..." What the heck,
Alice thought.  She's bound to have records about that.  "My
sister's in a home.  She's...slow."
    Elizabeth nodded.  "Would you be willing to release your
records from your previous therapy?"
    "Do I have to?"
    "Of course not."
    Alice considered.  "I'd... rather not.  There's stuff I'd
rather not talk about, and if you saw anything about it, you'd
ask, and even if I refused to talk about it, I'd have to think
about it, and I'd rather not.  And yes, I know that's
counterproductive, but it's also the way I feel.  Uhm...maybe
after I get used to you a little..." she said, completely not
meaning it.
    "Of course," Elizabeth responded, apparently considering the
matter closed.  "Why don't you tell me about why you turned to
crime?"
    Well, that's direct, Alice thought.  "The money, mainly.
I've got bills that need paying, not the least of which is for
Susan.  I want her to be in a nice place where she can get the
help she needs, you know? I mean, it's not like she has the tools
to really get along in the real world, which she'd have to try to
do if she wasn't in the home, and..."
    Alice was fidgeting less as she talked about her sister's
situation, Elizabeth noted.  "It must be difficult, living so far
apart from Susan."
    "Yeah, no kidding.  I go see her when I can, but I had to
work most of the time that I wasn't in class, so I really haven't
seen her much for the last couple of years."
    "I see."  Elizabeth quickly made a decision.  "If you'd like,
I can arrange for Susan to move to Austin, so that you can see
her more often."
    "You can do that?" Silly question, Alice thought.  She's got
the Rogers Foundation at her beck and call.  Of course she could
do that.  A nod confirmed it.  "Then...yeah.  I'd like that."
    "I'll make the arrangements.  Now, about your education...."


    Duck, pivot, grab, toss.
    Mirror Maid worked out in the caverns, trying to empty her
mind, think only of the movements, become one with them.
    Duck, pivot, grab, toss.
    It was a method that worked well for her.  Many times, when
she was troubled, she'd come down there, find an empty side
chamber with little light, and practice.
    Duck, pivot, grab, toss.
    She'd been doing it almost daily since the Dreamquake.
    Duck, pivot, grab, toss.
    It didn't help a bit.
    Duck, pivot, grab--
    She overbalanced and fell, bouncing three times before
catching herself into a roll, then bouncing to her feet and
stopping, thanks to the shock-absorbent shoes she wore.
    "Right," she told herself.  "Time for a break."
    "Good idea."
    Mirror Maid turned around.  "Don't you know better than to
sneak up on a martial artist when she's practicing? Especially
one that can punch through steel plate?"
    Roger nodded.  "That's why I watched from fifteen feet away,"
he answered, grinning.  "You were looking good there.  Do you
know how many imaginary people you threw into the wall?"
    She shrugged.  "Wasn't counting."
    "I was.  From the time I got here to the last one,
eighty-seven.  Anyone I know, or just J. Random Crook?"
    She shrugged again, causing Roger to roll his eyes and head
for the stairs.  "Right, right.  Sorry for offering a sympathetic
ear."
    Maria watched Roger leave, and felt guilty.  Not much,
though, as she couldn't really help the way she felt.  Not since
the nightmares.  She looked at him, and saw his leering features
as he cast, searing the flesh on her legs, ignoring (or, worse,
finding pleasure in) her screams, the other members of the Mob
helping, hurting, beating...
    If Roger had gone back any time in the next half hour, he
would have found Maria huddled in the back of the cavern
outshoot, shivering, repeating her mantra that it was only a
dream, only a dream, only....


    Methodically Ray packed away the bare essentials that would
be needed in his car's trunk.
    "Food," he intoned, pushing a cooler behind the spare tire.
Amanda, his wife, watched quietly.  For the first time since she
could remember, she stood unnoticed by Ray as he focused upon
this tiny ritual.
    "Change of clothes," he continued.  Stoop, grab, lift, place.
    "Ray," began Amanda, chewing on her lip.  He seemed so cold
and distant, almost completely detached from everything except
his clockwork packing.  Ray nodded at her, sparing a slight smile
which surely began as warm and loving but emerged on his lips
half-dead, smothered in the worry and frustration which was
gnawing at his heart.
    "Overnight bag."  Stoop, grab, lift, place.
    "Ray, please listen to me," continued Amanda, moving slowly
forward to take Ray's arm.  He didn't resist, but the packing
continued apace.
    "Minigun, fully loaded."  Stoop, grab, lift, place.
    "No!" shouted Amanda, clutching Ray's arm tighter, so tightly
that she began to lose circulation to her fingertips.  "Ray,
please stop and _listen_ to me!"
    "Extra bullets from Coma's dreamscape," Ray frowned, feeling
the pressure on his arm.  Holding the box in two hands he turned
to his wife with confusion on his face.
    "Ray," said Amanda firmly, her eyes showing just how close to
panic she was, "_Stop_.  _Now_."
    Slowly, Ray heaved a sigh.  He made no move to put down the
ammunition.  With a tone of great patience, he spoke, "Amanda, how
did you sleep last night?"
    The question gave Amanda pause, but she recovered quickly,
"Just fine, Ray.  As you know."
    Ray nodded slightly, turning to place the box of rounds into
his trunk.  He turned back to Amanda.  "After how much coaxing?"
    "Coaxing?"  asked Amanda, eyes wide, "I just felt like reading
last night, that's all!"
    "Mm hm," said Ray, his lips pressed, "Until four.  After
Boogey, you've never missed a chance to go to bed early.
Until..."
    Amanda shook her head, "The book was good, I lost myself in
it..."
    "Sure," said Ray with a tired nod, "Just like you have for
how many nights now?  Ever since that...what did you call it?"
    "Quake," muttered Amanda automatically, "I don't know why,
but that's what I think it was.  It was some sort of disturbance
of dreams and dreaming."
    "That quake," nodded Ray sagely, "You haven't allowed
yourself to have a nightmare since we eliminated Boogey.  And I
believe you owe yourself a lifetime of sweet dreams after the
sheer Hell(tm) he put you through."
    "And I'll have them," Amanda nearly pleaded, "With you!  Not
this way..."
    "You've had your dreams changed against your will twice now?"
asked Ray calmly, fingering his key-ring.  Amanda shook her head.
    "That other time was a wedding Ray," she said slowly, "It was
benign.  There was no threat, no nightmare--"
    "That doesn't _matter_," stated Ray with a gentle firmness.
He allowed himself a tired smile, and put his hands on Amanda's
arms, "Amanda, the two are connected somehow.  If that woman we
saw at the wedding is innocent of intrusion into your dreams then
we'll just ask her what she knows.  And move on."
    "Ray..." said Amanda, quietly, "Please..."
    "And if she isn't," continued Ray, slamming the trunk closed.
Amanda jumped slightly at the sharp noise.  Ray paused for a
moment, "I've taken care of Nightmares before."
    "You can't be serious," said Amanda, shaking her head slowly.
Ray shrugged.
    "You know better than anyone that things in a dream aren't
always what they seem Amanda, and that girl might be something
other than a beautiful, blushing bride.  Besides, fighting
Nightmares is all I really know.  I like to think of myself as an
expert on the subject.  I won't make a mistake."
    "What if it's already been made?"  asked Amanda quietly.  Ray
stared at the ground for a beat, then clutched his ignition key
tightly.
    "Are you coming along?" inquired Ray, looking up at Amanda's
face with a tired earnestness.  "I'd... like you to be there.  To
do what you do best."
    "That being?" asked Amanda, crossing her arms over her chest.
Ray leaned close and brushed a gentle kiss against Amanda's lips.
    "This," sighed Ray, "Be Reason to my Action, Amanda.  I swear
to you that I won't pull a trigger without due thought.  But if
this is another Nightmare...and it's targeting your dreams
again..." Ray cut himself off, looking positively frightened by
this prospect.  Amanda closed her eyes tightly and nodded, leaning
against her husband.  After several silent moments they
straightened.
    "Come on," said Ray, motioning to the car, "It's a long drive
to Austin."  Amanda nodded and followed.  They heard the sound of
the house door opening, and Amanda's brother Lyle stepped out.  He
had a thick pile of newspapers and news magazines clutched under
either arm.
    "We going now?"  he asked with a slight grin. Lyle - Coma to
his family - was of average height and handsome good looks.  He
wore an almost permanent peacefully bewondered look on his face.
"I've never seen Austin before."
    "You haven't seen the backyard before," said Ray, with a
lopsided smile.  "You can come too, Lyle.  The more the merrier."
    "Hey, thanks Ray..." said Lyle, feeling out each word as he
spoke it.
    "Lock the door please?"
    "Hunh?  Why?" asked Lyle.  Ray smiled ever so slightly.
    "Thieves, Lyle.  We have them in the real world."
    Lyle nodded and locked the door, then made his way to the
car.  Moments later, the car pointed its nose south and glided
towards the horizon.

[The Teaser Questions have been eliminated in favor of the Author
spending more time writing real stuff, rather than staring blankly
at the screen trying to write teaser questions.  You can thank him
by sending comments to masonk@tenet.edu.  He won't mind, honest.
He *likes* comments, even if they're just "Yay."]