Footsteps sounded on the metal staircase and Sitterson glanced up.
“Ms. Lin!”
She carried a clipboard under her arm, as ever. An affectation, he knew, because everything she needed for the weekend’s activities was stored on the palm-top she carried in her lab coat pocket. He wasn’t sure whether the clipboard made her look more sexy or more terrifying, and the fact that he found both alluring sometimes unsettled him.
“We’ve got blood work back on Louden,” she said without any preamble. “Her levels are good, but we’re recommending a fifty milligram increase of Rohyptase to boost libido.”
“Sold,” Sitterson said. He always favored a bit of hot sex action before things kicked off. Another perk of the job.
“Do we pipe it in or do you wanna do it orally?” Lin asked.
Sitterson held in his laughter, closed his eyes and sighed. “Ask me that again, only slower.”
“You’re a pig,” she said. The tone of her voice didn’t change at all, and sometimes he seriously considered Hadley’s assertion that she was a robot. “Guess how we’re slowing down her cognition.”
Sitterson kept his eyes closed, knowing she’d tell him anyway.
“The hair dye.” And was that a slight smugness to her voice? He opened his eyes, impressed.
“The dumb blonde. That’s artistic.”
“Works into the blood through the scalp, very gradual.” She looked past him at Hadley, her eternal doubter. “The Chem department keeps their end up.” “I’ll see it when I believe it,” he drawled without looking away from his control board.
Sitterson started shrugging, but halfway through the PA sounded again.
“Control?”
“Go ahead,” Hadley said.
“I have the Harbinger on line two.”
Hadley looked across, but Sitterson held up his hands, shaking his head.
“Christ,” Hadley said. “Can you take a message?” “Uh… I don’t think so. He’s really pushy. And… to be honest, he’s kinda freaking me out.”
Hadley gave a defeated sigh.
“Yeaaaahh. Okay, put him through.” He hit a button on his panel and threw Sitterson one last, cutting glare: You owe me.
Sitterson finished his shrug and smiled.
“Mordecai!” Hadley said into his microphone, suddenly more upbeat and animated. “How’s the weather up top?”
“The lambs have passed through the gate,” a voice said, grizzled and grumbling—Sitterson always had been impressed by the guy’s performance. He was a true method actor—the bloodshot eye never needed encouraging, and he really was a smelly bastard. Where the hell the Story guys had found him, he didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. “They are come to the killing floor,” Mordecai’s voice continued, echoing around the control room.
Hadley nodded, hand hovering above the disconnect button. But Sitterson had taken enough calls from Mordecai before to know that this was far from over.
“Yeah, you did great out there. By the numbers. Started us off right. We’ll talk to you later, oka—” “Their blind eyes see nothing of the horrors to come. Their ears are stopped; they are God’s fools.” “Well, that’s how it works.” Hadley hung his head. His voice sounded with defeat. Sitterson chuckled.
“Cleanse them. Cleanse the world of their ignorance and sin. Bathe them in the crimson of—” He paused, then asked, “Am I on speaker phone?”
“No, no of course not!”
“Yes I am,” Mordecai said. His voice raised, from subterranean grumble to eighteen-wheeler roar. “I can hear the echo. Take me off. Now.”
Sitterson started laughing, clamping his hands over his mouth to try and hold in the mirth. Beside him Lin, ever the ice queen, was maintaining her cool. Mostly. But even her features were warmed by the subtlest precursor of a smile.
“Okay,” Hadley said. “Sorry.”
“I’m not kidding,” Mordecai’s voice grated through the speakers. “It’s rude. I don’t know who’s in the room.” “Fine.” Hadley tapped the microphone. “There, you’re off speaker phone.” “Thank you.”
Sitterson was trying not to cry, but the more he held his laughter the greater the pressure built. Hysteria is a sign of the loss of control, Lin had told him once, and he’d roared with laughter as she’d left the control room. He hadn’t disagreed; he’d merely laughed. He wished he knew how she stayed so calm. Perhaps she took some of her own chemical creations, though such indulgence was strictly forbidden.
“Don’t take this lightly, boy,” Mordecai continued from the gas station. “It wasn’t all by your ‘numbers’; the Fool nearly derailed the invocation with his insolence. Your futures are murky; you’d do well to heed my—” He paused again, then his voice lightened to a whisper; gravel on concrete. “I’m still on speaker phone, aren’t I?”
That was it. Sitterson couldn’t hold it anymore, the laughter bursting from him in an explosive cough of air. Even Lin was smiling, and from down the curved staircase Sitterson heard Truman, the stiff soldier, coughing as he tried to contain his own hilarity.
“No,” Hadley said, “you’re not. I promise.”
“Yes I am! Who is that? Who’s laughing?”
Sitterson felt tears running down his cheeks and he leaned forward in his chair, pounding his head on his console. Hysteria is the sign of the loss of control. As he glanced up at one monitor and saw two of the kids soundlessly running along the wooden dock toward the lake, he wondered how mirthful each tear really was.
Holden was racing her. It was simple fun, but for Dana, there was still that competitive edge that was a hangover from all the athletics she did in her early teens. So she ran hard, feeling the boards flexing and creaking beneath her feet, and sensing Holden’s shadow just behind to her left.
“No way you win,” he gasped, and she cried out in delight as she put on a final burst of speed, launching herself from the end of the dock and feeling one of those moments of unadulterated, ecstatic glee that comes only rarely, and never for long. She pinwheeled her arms and legs, trying to crawl further through the air before the calm waters of the lake drew her down.
She tried to take a deep breath before she entered the water, but she was laughing too much. Beside her she sensed Holden flying with her, and then the water closed completely around her. And it was colder than she had ever felt before.
Surfacing, gasping, spitting water from her mouth, it took her several seconds to find her breath.
“OH! Cold! That’s what cold feels like—”
“Fight through the pain,” Holden gasped, treading water beside her. “It’s worth it. I’m nearly convinced it’s worth it.”
Dana found her breath at last, the cold quickly numbing her senses. She turned in the water and looked back toward the cabin, where the others were approaching at a more leisurely pace along the dock. Curt and Jules were wearing their bathing suits, while Marty was still in his tee-shirt and shorts. He had a towel slung casually around his neck, but he seemed to have no intention of joining them.
Right then, she could hardly blame him.
“Does it seem fresh?” Jules asked, voice etched with concern. “Lotta funky diseases sitting in stagnant lake water.”
“What?” Dana asked, “this water?” And to emphasize her point she took a deep gulp of it, swilling it around her mouth before spitting it out in an arc. Cool and fresh, it was tinted with a tang of something wonderful. “This water’s delicious.”