Jik Dain Bedlip
His room boxed Dain in, its shades of gray — the floors one tone of the hue, the walls another,
the ceiling a third — both reminder of life's ambiguities and an unintrusive background. The only
real interruptions were cot, closet, hygiene, chyme-bottle chute. Everything else was illusion.
Kär occupied the exact center of the lusterless floor. Its eyes were closed. Its hands air-washed
each other before its chin. It — or rather, the cluster of automata it represented — was busy.
Dain paced, clad only in breech-cloth, llevar strapped to his bare right shoulder. Each round, his
waiting footsteps took him past the flat panel of his frontdoor. Overlaid on it: thousands of
tiny names, all the anshin chiefs on Popovich, in blue as contacted and invited, in red as on-line
and standing by, acting as picture elements in an impressionistic image. He saw the future, red
suffusing blue, as Le Coeur took over one direvnya after another.
Kär said, "Ninety percent on-line. Totality in one-hundred eight seconds." Its hands slowed as it
pursued fewer and fewer connections.
Dain pivoted and marched to his cot. "Bed: Thinking position," he told it, then climbed onto its
reclined surface, but didn't lie back yet.
He opened his mind to the larger show he could start now. The final stage of preparations for the
seige of Ganj Dareh. "Kär, attend my instructions for virtual-display layout. I want my anshin
chiefs from the Prime Direvnya ..." he stretched out an open hand and swept it dramatically left
to right "... there."
Six boxed faces appeared, equidistant along the semicircle he'd drawn, a mere arm's length away.
Dain hadn't seen them since Le Coeur met in formal banquet at the Inn of the Laetoli. None
realized he was watching; the automaton hadn't convened the meeting/will-be-seen yet, so they
busied themselves with other matters.
He brought the hand back, then thrust it straight out in front. "And I want Heejanus there."
The Coeur-aligned faces shifted to make room for a woman's head, mostly a swirl of red hair as she
worked, head bent over her desk, ready for the meeting, but not attending it yet.
Images of the future leapt into Dain's mind. He would face Heejanus as the other chiefs looked
on. He would grapple directly with all their virtual presences, friends and foe. He would drive
them cowering to their mental knees. He would dominate them.
"No, wait," Dain whispered. This layout wasn't right. No, this will-see fell under the auspices
of Byukan-Hamil, not Le Coeur. What was he thinking? He should come to these people, particularly
Heejanus, now as their Partner-in-Charge, their strategist, their boss. He should guide their
cooperation, coax them into alignment, control rather than dominate.
After all, control didn't exist till the controllee stood face-to-face with his controller. That's
why Partners held meetings like this. Short they may be, but their convening alone proved their
point. And he would make his first command will-see the largest and the shortest in Byukan-Hamil
history.
Mind reset, Dain lay back. "Kär, display continental schematic." A stark outline flicked into
view, just within reach. Heart-shaped with an extended vena cava dangling in peninsula off the
left, Popovich arched from his knees up over his head, black on top of the grays of his room,
overlaying the chiefs. Regional boundaries of black dashes lined its interior.
Minimalist, emblematic, his future lay before him.
"Show Prime Direvnya." He didn't choose symbols; they would be temporary.
He turned his head, from south to north, to watch as five-pointed stars appeared across the
outline. In his mind, unbidden but obviously pertinent, the Distribution-of-Direvnya Pattern
unfolded. Encourage a birth and death process
for direvnya within each independent region,
which gradually has these effects: the
population is evenly distributed in terms
of different sizes — for example, one
direvnya with 1,000,000 people ...
Dain liked this pattern, appreciated how it balanced people and nature. If the population were
weighted too far toward small direvnya, modern civilization with its complex interactions could
never emerge; but if people gathered too tightly, the land would go to ruin because people weren't
where they needed to be, to care for it. He had long ago decided to keep this pattern in his new
version of Popovich's language.
Glancing at the boxed faces, Dain said, "Put these chiefs on their direvnya." Kär replaced the
Prime-Direvnya stars with images of the inattentive anshin tacticians, reduced to fit the
schematic.
Better, much better. He surveyed the graphic, felt the physical expanse and population represented
logically therein, extended his appreciation to their complexity, and sighed. He didn't blame the
land. He didn't blame the people. He simply blamed the rules they lived under. Those he would
change — after, and because, he took command.
Command required power. Power meant authority. Authority, as both resistance to his ambition and
means to achieving it, rested in the anshin. His acquisition of control, power, authority, and the
anshin was a work-in-progress, almost complete.
Kär said, "Ninety-six percent on-line. Totality in forty-seven seconds."
Dain glanced at Kär, then looked over his virtual canvas, envisioning all that he had accomplished
so far:
* In Guizhou Region, western coast, Von Papenfranz Vicechanc, chief of Rigoberta. Already
corrupted by the closeness of Byukan-Hamil Direvnya, already chief of the region's Prime Direvnya,
Von had been Dain's first recruit among anshin chiefs, no coercion necessary.
* In Shanxi Region, northern coast, Hjal Merschact Reichsbank, chief of Menchu Tum. Recruited by
Papen while working in Guizhou, promoted to chief in Menchu Tum during inter-regional transfer
arranged with Schuess, Partner for Jiangsu Region, in exchange for a large train-coach factory.
* In Jiangsu Region, north-eastern coast, Rath Neuvontin Stancon, chief of Sperry. Approached Le
Coeur via Lugar. Staunch, even innovative supporter ever since.
* In Fujian Region, south-eastern including coast, Han Sfritz Scheradio, chief of Arbay Heere.
Recruited by Dain while tactician of Fire Prevention and Suppression there; promoted to chief after
Dain had the prior tactician crippled in a patrolcraft accident.
* In Guangdong Region, southern coast, Bal Durvon Schirach, chief of Knedlik. Recruited by Dain
during anshin-chief convention, promoted through the ranks by a series of deals with Eshba, that
region's Partner.
* In Hunan Region, south central, no coast, Hann Ulrich Klintzich, chief of Wausau. Recruited by
Dain while inspecting the drome at the Inn of the Laetoli Valley. With Mayubu, who was immune to
deals, as Regional Partner, Dain had no choice but to arrange a series of murders that led to
Ulrich's promotion to chief, even injuring Ulrich in a deliberately botched attempt. Ulrich's
ruthless investigation resulted in the arrest and Exile of the crew responsible.
And lastly, Dain focused on the Hubei Region, north central, no coast, all that remained unfinished
on his composition. Doyle Phoebe Heejanus, chief of Ganj Dareh. Never met her. Saw her in
virtual meeting once, six days ago.
Indirectly, though, Dain resented this woman. Le Coeur did poorly inside her combine. Recruiters
sent to Ganj Dareh performed adequately in other parts of the direvnya — witness the tableful of
tacticians at the banquet! — but they found few anshin who were receptive. And those few, flexing
their new affiliation, quickly lost their jobs. Recent pressure on Regional Partner Za Leez to
replace Heejanus had failed.
Now, though, this chief's intransigence and rectitude made her the perfect foil.
"Kär, put a box around Heejanus, a deep shadow box." Kär made it so.
Dain studied the revised image. Just where he wanted her.
"Now represent lesser direvnya by population class in concentric circles around Primes. Color-code
tiles by affiliation with Le Coeur: red for members, white for known enemies, yellow for
unaligned."
Staggered circles of faces blossomed around the prime chiefs. The rest of the pattern played in
his mind: "10 direvnya with 100,000 people each, 100 direvnya with 10,000 people each, and 1,000
direvnya with 1,000 people each. These direvnya are distributed homogeneously all across the
region."
Continent Popovich, yoked by Byukan-Hamil, abused this pattern, with regional populations three
times recommended size, because twenty Partners for the required regions were just too many. Har
Norma, and her parents before her, just shrugged off this planet-wide rule. Dain grinned at their
blithe indifference — and the four-thousand, four-hundred forty-one faces per region assembled
before him.
So many, many faces, empowered to enforce the patterns as law, looking directly to him — for this
one meeting only. He shuddered at the span of control represented here and applauded the deep
hierarchy of coordinators who supervised this part of the consortium's daily operation.
This reality check rocked him out of his artistic fugue. He glanced at his door: a few pricks of
blue showed there; will-see not ready yet. He turned an eye to the schematic again, this time to
assess Le Coeur's readiness. Six Primary Direvnya limned with red; the other one, deep in her
shadow box, like a wide, frightened eye in the dark. Spreading out from each prime chief, like
tiers of petals, many in soft red — working for Le Coeur — nearly as many in brassy yellow —
untapped, allegiance unknown — and a few in stark white — chiefs who had unwittingly resisted the
power of Le Coeur. Heejanus was not alone then.
=We could have done better. We are not ready enough.=
Dain bolted upright. "The time is now! Our preparations will suffice! Operation Heart Transplant
will succeed!"
"Sir? Sir?"
Heart thumping, Dain swung around to acknowledge the hologram.
"Meeting/will-be-seen is now ready. All anshin chiefs on Continent Popovich attending."
Dain forced himself to settle back. Where had that convulsion of panic come from? He closed his
eyes and skimmed through his mind. Nothing contaminated his control; not even the dungeon doorway
reared on the horizon. He sucked in a breath, held it, then opened his eyes as he exhaled slowly.
Ready, Dain peered into his llevar's holoscreen and poked a finger through one of its glyphs. He
saw then what all the others would see — himself in mid-range shot, dressed in formal business
suit, close enough to distinguish his facial expressions. With such virtual imagery, he violated
the will-see canon. So?
He lifted his attention back to the seven patterns of rings spread before him and said, "I call
this meeting to order." The image in his screen synchronized its lips to his words.
The myriad faces in panoply came to life. They focused on him. They could, if they wanted, see
each other.
"Welcome to the first meeting of the anshin task force in support of Har Norma's Rendezvous of
Futures. I appreciate your patience and willingness to come together like this. Even in this day
and age, it takes a while to coordinate over thirty-thousand schedules. Thank you."
Dain paused, then adopted a serious tone. "Our lives have changed. A few days ago, a foreign
combine challenged us to defend ourselves. And we — all of us in the Byukan-Hamil Consortium —
are stepping up to that challenge. Our lives, and the lives of our collective customers, will
never be the same."
He touched a glyph; his image changed to a close-up, still serious: "I have asked you to join me
here today because the brunt of this change falls on you and your combines. You are responsible
for health, safety, and order. These aspects of our infrastructure are in the most jeopardy as
thousands drain from direvnya all around our continent into Ganj Dareh's catchbasin."
Mid-shot: "Doyle Phoebe Heejanus, chief of Ganj Dareh's anshin." He gestured outward, and Kär cut
in Heejanus' face from her telepresence. Every anshin chief on the continent gazed at her. Every
one caught the focus on her and her predicament — and waited to see how she handled it. Every
one, refined enough in corporate politics to achieve control of a combine, would understand her
example. Her failure would teach them about Le Coeur's effectiveness. And when Dain made his move
to openly lead that organization, they would think back to this will-see and realize how well he
managed them and their perceptions — and flock to Le Coeur.
Dain pouted. Or they will fight us or quit in fright. Any way, they shall know our power.
For that instructive moment, Heejanus stared intently out at everyone. Then she reacted, her
expression changing swiftly before settling on self-importance.
"We all are moving to support you, Doyle Phoebe," Dain went on in voice-over. Step 1: pump her
high with promises. "We are already implementing new procedures, suggested by me, to help the
Consortium focus on Ganj Dareh. I assure you that we all want to make the coming days as easy as
possible on you. And we depend on you to work with us as we all go through some big changes."
"Thank you, Jik Dain," Heejanus answered, her delighted hazel eyes widening a moment before dimming
with selfish afterthought. "However, those procedures don't —"
Dain poked a control; his image took over again, a mid-shot. How rude of her! Not that it
mattered now. He drove on. "All other chiefs: I need you to make these new procedures work or
fix them if you can't. They will be part of our future's foundation. You are already changing.
Keep working on it."
Step 2: take away everything I promised. Right now, Heejanus thinks she'll be getting more people
to handle more work, but not really.
"One clarification: Those personnel requisitions you have received are assessments, not
re-assignments. Your resources stay with you until they are actually needed in Ganj Dareh. No
transfers unless I approve them. Thank you for attending. I'll take any questions off-line.
Meeting adjourned."
Dark-gray swept across the array of images, freezing them in place. Many of the chiefs had already
moved on, accustomed to direction delivered succinctly by will-see, though never on this scale
before. However, Heejanus appeared caught short in mid-expectation, gut-punched even, not by his
animus, but by his neglect. Exactly!
In the twilight, Kär, its face eager to process a queue of requests, stepped up beside Dain, who
held up a finger. "First, no meetings with Heejanus today." Step 3: Squelch all recourse for the
victim. Cater to all others who comment so they stay in the flow he has initiated.
"Yessir. Beginning the queue now, processing requests in the order they were received." It
pointed a finger at Dain's holoscreen.
A face, old, grizzled, popped up there. Under it glowed a name. Location came from a white light
blinking on the shaded continent overhead. "Who says I am now reporting to you?"
"Your Regional Partner. Hasn't she coordinated that?"
The chief's scowl answered before she said, "I have a compensation review scheduled. What will
happen to that?"
"I will meet with you when your coordinator arranges it. I will consult your former managing
Partner, then factor in your performance for me. Can we meet virtually?"
"How else?" The face vanished.
"Kär, list that one to be replaced when we get the chance."
"Yessir. Nex — interrupt! Consortium priority-override request for meeting/will-be-seen from
Chief Heejanus."
"How?"
"As chief of a Prime Direvnya, she merits that privilege."
"Tell her 'No.'"
"Yessir. Next."
Another face, young woman this time. From the Guangdong Region. "Jik Dain, what is your
experience with anshin contracts?" The voice was carefully controlled, but a certain smugness
filtered through.
"I've been Senior Partner for two Eighters. I've consulted with Har Norma on the renewal of every
anshin contract during that time." A lie, but this small-town hack couldn't know that. "Since she
launched this project, I've reviewed the Periodic Reports for every direvnya in Hubei Region, where
Ganj Dareh lies." Truth is a large part of lying well. "I'll start on your region next."
He widened his eyes to emphasize the impending personal scrutiny. "How's that?" A little
intimidation didn't hurt to establish credibility.
"Th-That's fine, sir. Thank you." Gray replaced her face.
"Kär, we'll recruit that one." Sheep could join Le Coeur; they added mass — and cannon fodder.
"Interrupt!" Kär blurted. Its voice changed — to Heejanus'. "— voke disease-control priority
for message to Jik Dain Bedlip."
"Block that!" Dain bellowed. "Use Rendezvous-of-Futures override."
"Insufficient," Kär blipped, then as Heejanus, "How do you—"
"Special-Projects override!"
"Insufficient," then, "— expect my combine —"
"Invoke privilege from Chair of Team of Partners, fiducia 'Le Père!'"
"Yessir," Kär continued calmly in its normal voice. "Next — interrupt."
"What now?"
"Chief Klintzich claims Consortium priority-override." Prime Chief of Hunan, Le Coeur Executive
for that region, and spokesman for the other Prime Chiefs at the formal banquet three days ago.
"Go ahead."
His face dominated by drooping auburn mustachios, the chief blustered, "Sorry, Dain, but I've got
better things to do than wait behind these frontier sheriffs."
And you just had to make sure I knew that, Dain thought, but replied cooly, "I'm sure it's
important."
"Yojin Suru asked me to look into a cache of contraband, namely firearms, in my jurisdiction.
Seems they detected a disturbance. Thy wasn't as careful as she thought."
Dismay nipped at Dain's gut. Not another organization to finesse! "Who sent you this?"
Dain asked as levelly as he could.
Ulrich's florid features narrowed. "Yojin Suru — you really don't know this business, do you?"
I know enough to be your boss. I know enough — Dain stuffed his outrage back into his belly and
kept steady eyes on the man while he sorted through tactics. Psychic bile washed over him, but he
reached through it to leadership and prudence. "Please teach me."
"Anshin combines all over Yeibichai fund a specialized force that tends to worldwide issues.
Contraband is one of those. You are aware that the Global Pattern Language bans — has always
banned — firearms?"
Dain nodded curtly. "What happens next?"
"Nothing. I took care of it. Just wanted you to know."
"Thanks." Dain required no details: none were necessary for a strategist who trusted his
tactician, even one making sure his worth was recognized.
Ulrich lingered a moment, his gaze meaningful, laying down a line of obligation from Dain to him,
before he nodded and cut off the meeting.
Dain recognized that a threat of unknown strength had been diverted. Relieved, he refocused on
resolving anshin questions now. Cautious, he told Kär to remind him about the Yojin Suru later.
"Yessir. Next."
A pudgy face winked into sight. Dain stared at it, sure that his image in the other man's screen
matched his intended bleakness.
"I know you're a Partner and all that," said the man through tight lips. "But I've got better
things to do than sit in on any more of these palavers about something happening half-way across
the continent."
On the continental schematic, a dot of unaligned yellow blinked on the very rural western
peninsula. Dain flicked his eyes back. "Ganj Dareh might as well be in your garden. We're all in
this together."
"I have exactly eight people working for me out here, constable slash Nurse slash counselor slash
whatever I need them to be. You've requisitioned six of them. I'm worried you're gonna drain me
dry. Don't you know how many unemployed bodies there are eating and sleeping on my
Collective's tab?"
Not to worry, chief, Dain thought wryly. Your people are going nowhere. Not to help Heejanus.
Not to help Die Gastarbeiter. Just staying dispersed, out of my way, idle and nervous, ready to be
picked off when I get the time. In the meantime, a little fun.
"Don't you, Chief?" Dain tasted the words like morsels of chocolate. "When Har Norma blanketed
the continent with her appeal, didn't you see the impact? Didn't you recognize your role? Didn't
you start planning to help? After all, chief, much of your staffing relates directly to
the count of 'unemployed,' as you put it — I prefer 'available' — and we're relieving you of that
burden. You should be glad to put your, uh, 'excess capacity' to good use, don't you think?"
He breathed, a quick pause before tearing into this country cop again. Beside him, Kär trembled
and vanished. Dain gripped the moment and waited for more data. In front of him, the holoscreen
winked out, face and all. Wait. Finally, a second later, from his shoulder, Heejanus' voice
insisted, "Talk to me now, Jik Dain, or I'll come over there, drag you into Har Norma's office, and
we'll thrash this out in front of her."
It might be worth it, just to see Norma. Then, he'd fire Heejanus, replace her with one of his
people — no, Le Coeur, as itself, must be selected for the anshin contract. Operation Heart
Transplant depended on Heejanus and her combine to act as scapegoat, conducting the twin lightnings
of fear and hatred.
"Enough, enough," he said, trying for amused exasperation. "We can do a little can-hear right
now. Is that adequate for you, Phoebe?"
"It'll do. What do you mean, canceling transfers? All the available zhee-tely on the continent
heading my way, but none of the constables?"
"Your last report said you had everything under control, didn't it, Phoebe? You don't need help
right now — do you?"
"No, but I have to consider lead-times, Jik Dain. If I say 'jump' now, it'll be three days
before—"
"They'll be there when you need them, Phoebe, but for right now, we've got zhee-tely stirred up in
gong-she all over the place. The trains are full. We're converting freight cars to passenger
coaches as fast as we can, but for right now, these future Guest Workers have to wait for seats,
and they don't like it. Are your gong-she disrupted by queue squabbles and frustration, Phoebe?"
"Well, no," she admitted after a pause, then added, "but that means you're cursing me with my own
competence, Jik Dain."
"Not 'cursing,' Phoebe. Rather, I'm relying on you. Other chiefs have their hands full."
Words as weapons. True, false, no matter as long as they served his reach for power; they burst
out of him with small jolts of joy. He added more praise to the mix: "Be glad you're on top of
things over there." He paused to force her to acknowledge the compliment.
"Jik Dain, I'm not really on top if I'm standing on quicksand. You can read my staffing database
as easily as I can. We both know I need more people now to stay ahead of later—"
Dain wrenched back control. "Later, eh?" he interrupted with a sneer. Pressure, not praise,
apparently would work better here. "Phoebe, do you know how many Gastarbeiter will stay
with the Rendezvous?"
"What do you mean?" A slow, unguarded question.
Ah, a weakness, a path unconsidered. Dain lectured her: "Patience, skillsets, attitudes, any
number of things could send them back where they came from, Phoebe. Not everyone gong-she has the
talent for change, for success; otherwise, they wouldn't be gong-she, would they? So, we
have to anticipate the downside.
"We will keep constables in place at their original direvnya until we know for sure
how many you need, depending on how many Gastarbeiter actually stay with the Rendezvous. Does that
make sense, Phoebe?"
Dain expected a pause, then begrudging acknowledgment. Instead, Heejanus demanded, "Supplies then,
Jik Dain. Med-tek, counsel-tek, riot-tek. Fuel, food, and foot-gear."
"No!" Dain slapped down the demand, then tried to recover poise and control. His appreciation for
this necessary opponent soured at the edges. But then, the greater the enemy, the greater the
victory. He said, calm wrapped around stern, "Resources — people and supplies — stay
where they are for right now."
At once, Heejanus said, "On the other hand, Geld moves easily, Jik Dain. Give me money to hire
locally. Fates know we have plenty of unemployed to pick from, right here in town."
What can tangle time and focus more than recruiting? Only a boss underfoot. Why not give her
both?
"Now that I can give you, Phoebe. I'll need a quick plan, of course — budget, scope,
timeframe — but I'll open up some funding immediately. Then — what do you say? — how about I
drop by to see you in Ganj Dareh in a few days, and we'll review everything on the spot?"
"O.K., Jik Dain. You set the meeting; I'll meet you when you arrive. Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Phoebe." Step 4: squeeze patiently. Pacesetter once more, Dain could feel his
continental composition filling in its last regional panel.
Abruptly, an unmodulated carrier signal snarled at Dain from his llevar. He jabbed its reset
button. Kär flickered back into a coherent image. It managed to look sheepish.
"How'd Heejanus do that?" Dain demanded. Just because he'd worked the interrupt to his advantage
didn't mean he wanted it to happen again. "Knock you off-line, take over my llevar?"
"Gleest-work. A known handicraft by a gleest named Kangi Yatapi, available in several sewers which
are mentioned in anshin will-hears. My defenses failed to incorporate the latest release. I have
petitioned my Author-Team to improve this aspect of my operation in their next Revision."
And Thy has failed to recruit this Kangi Yatapi? Will her substitute, Pizi, be as good? Will I
have to handle his hiring myself? He snapped at Kär, "Run a complete sweep of all known
gleest-work. Update your defenses."
"Yessir."
Impatience surging, he ordered, "Flush the queue of anshin chiefs waiting to talk to me." A pang
of duty forced him to add, "But reschedule them across the day."
"Yessir."
Contemplation yearned to dissipate tension. "How long till my conference with gong-she
tacticians?"
"Two-kay seconds."
Time enough to reflect on this victory, banish strain. "Give me warning."
"Yessir."
Dain lay back and closed his eyes. He savored satisfaction, tight and sweet around his heart. He
relaxed and allowed anticipation of widening success to climb slowly and warmly up his neck.
Heejanus, his enemy and gull, set out like a sacrifice for all the other goats, those anshin
chiefs, to watch. An example not just for those who opposed Le Coeur, heretofore a low-grade
annoyance agitating their combines. An example not just for those unaligned, the disconnected who
hadn't noticed what was going on across the continent. These two groups probably assumed that they
had witnessed a skirmish in some sort of corporate in-fighting. They understood, maybe, his
political point in asserting and consolidating fresh ground in a struggle among Byukan-Hamil
Partners. They would learn, when Heejanus lost not only her job but her contract, not to buck Jik
Dain Bedlip.
But this show also gave an example for those sworn to Le Coeur. They too would see anew how well
Dain orchestrated power on a continental scope.
Abruptly, JDB burst into Dain's consciousness, driven by a geyser of anger and frustration. =What
a örömlány!= he ranted as he streaked across the swirling gray backdrop. Richocheting about, he
screeched about the tedious dealing with pathetic and stupid underlings. He bellowed over the
long, long climb by the serial egos toward the victory Dain was set to achieve. He wailed over
their need to achieve it.
Before, such emotions, felt by Dain himself, would have tempted him with madness. Before, such
antics would have threatened diversion from sanity, focus, and success. Now, he could watch them
from a safe distance and feel free to tire of them quickly.
Still, Dain was grateful to JDB as he seized the alter by the throat and stifled those enervating,
useless emotions deep inside his non-corporeal body. JDB struggled.
=That's what you're here for.= Dain said. He tossed JDB back into oblivion and slammed the door.
=Take care of it for me.=
=I would lick her eyelids as she sucked my chin,= JDainB murmured.
Dain whirled and found his demented alter's image winging high over his center of perception. Dain
cringed. JDainB spread reptile wings and lolled a spit-dripping tongue out of jagged-toothed
jaws. He seemed strong, capable of challenging Dain's control of their mind's center.
=How'd you get out here?= Dain asked. Was his changing life generating more friction than he could
handle? Yes, probably. Enough more to charge his darkest alter egos? I guess so, Dain thought
with despair.
=I would nibble her nipples, rub her rump, thump her thighs, polish her pudenda.=
Dain clutched their web of connection, wrenched at it, but JDainB climbed higher, his cackle
sprinkling over Dain like a golden shower.
Crack! A taut-skinned wing crumpled. JDainB cried out and tumbled.
Dain reeled in the web, hastening the twisted alter's fall, deflecting the plunge into the
dungeon's maw. He slammed that iron-bound door — again — and drew himself up, sobbing with
relief. Didn't the world provide enough challenge without his own demons chopping at him from
inside? At times, he seemed so firm in his internal mastery. At other times, so fragile.
How had his control slipped so? Who had helped him?
Quickly, he hunted through his mind for the source of that unexpected shot — and found only a
trace of sandalwood and ... a jingle of laughter.
What unknown forces festered in the hinterlands of his own mind? Would they continue to aid him or
soon enough, betray him? Fear of what he could do to himself chomped hard on his gut.
In reaction, his zhuhndí stomach heaved and vomited unused acid down his legs, stretched below his
chin on the cot. This cleansing draft emptied that hard tumor of emotion that filled him. It left
him feeling detached and focused on the future.
"Two-hundred seconds until gong-she conference," Kär said.
His lungs heaved, hungry for air. He stretched them, filling them to capacity, easing their
demand. A moment's respite, a quick shower, then it would be time to go back to work.
