The bluish light from the flickering television screen bathed the room in uncertain shadows. Her eyes were at half-mast as she watched her name being dragged through the mud by troglodytes who couldn't even begin to grasp her genius.
On a rational level, Judith understood why BostonBio had suspended her. They had considerations separate from hers to deal with. Most of them legal. But on a visceral level, she hated every last one of the gutless imbeciles who was allowing this televised crucifixion to continue. It was not only bad for BostonBio and Judith White, but it was also bad for the world.
They'd hung her out to dry.
Management had decided that the best defense under the circumstances was to say nothing. The opposition had roared into the vacuum left by the company's absence. Without even token resistance from BostonBio, the media were having a field day.
In the wake of Curt Tulle's death, HETA sent in emissaries from its national offices to man the Boston franchise. Judith was watching some of them on the lab TV.
Three actresses from the The Olden Girls were among those who had been flown in. The feeblewitted women from the popular 1980s sitcom sat behind the temporary head of Boston BETA as he addressed reporters.
"Curt Tulle is a martyr to animals and all living things everywhere!" the man screamed. For some reason, he felt compelled to shout every statement. "I only hope that I can live up to his great standards!"
"Are you the permanent head of Boston HETA?" asked one of the reporters. Unlike the press at the previous news conference, this woman was a network correspondent.
"I am part of an interim ruling council! Since arriving earlier this evening, I have been ably assisted by Ms. and Mr. Janner, who have been more than helpful at this moment of great crisis!" He indicated a pair of figures standing at the rear of the crowd behind the podium.
Huey fidgeted uncomfortably. Mona glared defiantly at the home viewing audience.
"Will your group surrender the remaining BBQs?"
At the question, Mona's and Huey's eyes grew as wide as pie plates. They were visibly relieved an instant later to find that it hadn't been directed at them.
"This is a plot!" the national HETA man yelled, ignoring the question entirely. His arms flapped crazily. "The government-in league with the fiends at BostonBio-have made it their mission to wipe out HETA! For without HETA, there will be no opposition to them, and without opposition, dear friends, they will be able to come into your homes and take your pets for their horrible experiments! That is their ultimate goal! The animal Holocaust has begun!"
Judith White stared at the laboratory television, eyes level, face unreadable.
A reporter asked one of the women from The Olden Girls what she thought of the BBQ situation. The woman had also played the lustful host of a cooking show on the old 1970s The Sherry Taylor Hoore Show.
"I like kitties," said the elderly woman, her dull eyes wetly earnest.
Judith slammed her palm so savagely against the television the plastic chassis cracked. The TV winked off.
Her lip curled, revealing perfect white teeth.
The black box from her desk lay open on the table next to her. She had already filled one of the syringes with the brown gelatinous fluid from one of the vials that rested on the foam interior of the box.
She gathered up the syringe. With a lunge more appropriate to a game of darts than an injection, she jammed the needle into a pulsing blue vein in her arm.
With her thumb, she pressed the plunger down, forcing the brown liquid from the syringe. It oozed soothingly into her bloodstream.
Even as she felt the liquid enter her and mix with her warmly flowing blood, she knew it would be the last.
Judith shuddered wildly. The sensation was like that of hands of solid ice gripping her spine. Her back arched at the frigid sensation.
The liquid coursed through her. The last.
Her head spun. As before, but not like before. Far away, but not too far.
Light... spinning. The last.
The BBQs were the most important thing now. Important to her. And to the world.
Her final injection. She was there.
A jolt. Snapped back to reality. The icy hands flew from her spine. Her head cleared. The effect was not as it had been all the other times.
And there was something else.... "Dr. White?"
The voice came from behind her. She turned slowly, a smile curling the edges of her red lips. One of her geneticists stood at the mouth of the corridor that linked the two separate laboratories. Alone.
"I'm surprised you're here, Dr. White." His return smile was uncertain.
"Just finishing something up," she purred. She slipped down from the table on which she'd been perched. One hand snapped closed the lid of her special black box.
"I-that is to say, we heard. All of us. We think it's terribly unfair what they're doing to you." The scientist frowned somberly.
Judith's hand slipped across the smooth surface of the black case. One finger caressed the interlocking double-B BostonBio logo. Her eyes rose to meet those of the young man. They locked.
"Bullshit." Judith grinned.
The geneticist shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't expected to see his boss here so late. In fact, like most of his co-workers, he had prayed she would never return to her post at BostonBio.
"I...um..." the man mumbled.
"Shut up," Judith cooed. Her smile never wavered.
She slid around the table, revealing long, flawlessly tanned legs. Slowly, Dr. White sashayed over to the man. As she walked, her short skirt wrinkled up around her thighs.
The young scientist gulped, trying not to stare. "Um...there are two of them," he stammered. As he spoke, he looked at her ample chest. His own words seemed to startle him. Quickly, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Two BCWs, I mean. Two. In there."
Judith kept walking. "Mm-hmm." She nodded.
"It's just, I thought there was only the one. At least, there was only one earlier today."
"Now there are two," Judith agreed. "One plus one."
She was beside him. He jumped when her hand reached out to him. But this had nothing to do with Dr. Judith White's notorious vicious streak. Her warm palm gently traced the contours of his cheek. He shivered at her touch.
"Dr. White, this ...uh...probably isn't a good idea."
"Of course it is," she replied in a hoarse whisper. Her face came in close to his, sliding cheek-to-cheek. Beside his face, warm lips brushed softly against his ear. He felt a gentle tug of perfectly polished enamel as her teeth pulled lightly at his earlobe.
"Have you eaten yet?" Judith asked breathily. In spite of himself, the geneticist closed his eyes, surrendering to the seduction. Dr. White was an insufferable bitch, but she was also the most gorgeous female of the species he had ever encountered. But her non sequitur food question puzzled him back to reality.
"What?" he asked. "Yes. Yes, I have." She was still nibbling on his ear. He closed his eyes, trying to recapture the mood of a moment before.
"It's been a few hours for me," she exhaled hotly. Her breath tickled the soft hairs around his ear. "I'm hungry again."
The geneticist had closed his eyes, his head tipped invitingly to one side.
"Mmm. We can get something after," he moaned.
Judith's teeth chewed farther up his ear. She was beyond the lobe now, encompassing almost the entire ear.
"Maybe a little something to tide me over," she hissed.
Teeth became fangs. With a savage bite, she clamped firmly onto the young man's ear. A jerk of her face wrenched the ear from the side of his head.
Shock suppressed the urge to flee. Stunned, the scientist pulled away, falling to his knees. A frantic hand clamped the side of his head.
He found to his horror that his auditory canal was open wide to air. Blood poured across the gaping hole. The sticky liquid coursed around his shaking fingers.