Five Hertz Of Separation (chapters 31-35 Of 62) free porn video

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE Things got a little hectic after the trip out to the Winthrop Group compound. I had Dupree shipped out to a prison in one of the Northern provinces, this world's version of Siberia. I had wanted to kill him but couldn't do it without setting a bad example. How could I expect Beckwith to back off her threat to take vengeance against the entire Queen's Guard if I didn't do the same with the killer of my family? I did promise her if she ever found the proof of which men had killed her children, she could do what I did and put them away for life. We took over the Palace. It was the symbolic seat of power and we needed everything we could get right now. Renovations started on the residential side to make individual apartments for each of the members of the Coven, now called the Witches Ruling Council. There was more than enough space it was a matter of how to subdivide it. There was a brief fight about who would get what set of rooms, which should have told me something. The bigger fight was who would get responsibility for what part of the Government. Beckwith demanded control of Security. Big surprise. Things were eventually worked out but I had to lean on some of them pretty hard, which told me something else. I was a lame duck. I had achieved most everything I had set out to do. Opulessa dead, Dupree overthrown, the Consortium and the Winthrop Group fleeing the world, all done. There were a lot of messes that needed cleaning up but they didn't need me to clean them up. In fact, I shouldn't be the one to clean them up. More and more, when there was a question as to what should be done, the other witches would turn to Dierdra. She would consult with me but I knew it was becoming more of a courtesy with each passing day. They all knew I was planning on leaving and was not going to throw my weight around. Which made General Packer's request for a meeting a little surprising. I chose the main ceremonial meeting room but had a table and chairs brought in. I wasn't going to sit on a throne. When he arrived, he seemed surprised at the way I was dressed, which was in my usual day clothes. Why get a new wardrobe for just a brief time? He bowed when he entered the room. I waved him over with my hand. "General, please have a seat. I'm not much for ceremony." "As you wish, my Queen." "I know that, technically, I'm Queen but you may address me as Alexia, if you wish. You are the head of the Queen's Guard, after all." He sat down, setting his ceremonial cap on top of the table. "Thank you, my Queen. How would you prefer to be addressed?" "I'm more comfortable with Alexia." "Then Alexia it is. May I speak freely with you, Alexia?" "Sure, go ahead. What's on your mind?" "I would like to know your intentions concerning this world and your obligations to it." "I think I've fulfilled my obligations already." "Then what are your plans?" "I'm going back to my world." "How are you doing that? Don White made certain to disable the gateway as the last man left. There is no other gateway." "There is a small, portable one. It was the type the Consortium first used to send over scouts to check the place out. It was written off as lost but one of Patron Miller's group got their hands on it. That's how I was brought here in the first place. You could argue that I was kidnapped." "An unfortunate way to arrive, to be sure. When are you leaving?" A good question. I should probably have left before now but ... "I'm not sure. It won't be long. I need to get back to my world. I don't belong here. I assume you know about the differences between our two worlds?" "I was briefed by my like member of the Winthrop Group. Hard to grasp such a world." "I don't want to poison your world with alien technology or information from my world." "Though, I am given to understand that your remarkable healing abilities are aided by that technology. A thinking box?" "A computer. It helps diagnose problems and suggests a course of treatment. I'll take it with me when I go." "Would not others be able to use it for the same purpose?" "It contains a lot of information that would be very harmful to this world. I could try and remove that information but there's no guarantee it would work. You're right, it would be a valuable asset but it could also destroy this world as you know it." "Remarkable. Who will be the new Queen?" "There isn't going to be a new Queen. The Government will be run by a council of senior witches. They'll choose one of their group to be Prime councilor. She'll be the closest thing to a new Queen but she will not have absolute power. The Council has the power and will not be run by the unfettered whimsies of a single individual. I hope that the Council will eventually agree to be chosen by the people." "I see." The General says nothing else for almost a decicycle before leading with a question. "Alexia, you are how old?" "I get your point; I'm only twenty two and haven't lived in your world very long. The whole thing is idealistic and unrealistic. General, the best and most efficient form of Government is a benign dictator. Your world has just spent over two hundred years under the thumb of a not so benign dictator. Since there's no way to guarantee the next dictator will be benign, we thought it was worth giving change a chance. What do you think?" "Speaking plainly, Alexia, your goals and objectives are laudable but I do not believe the people will easily accept them. Please do not take my candor as personal criticism. You have a keen understanding of people. I discovered that it was you who created the plan to convince the Queen's Guard to join your side. That was very impressive, as was your manipulation of both First Minister Dupree and the Consortium. My concern is that my world is a conservative world, one which is bound by tradition. I am afraid that many will not accept these changes and try to return to the old ways." "Who wouldn't want more control over their own life? I just want to give this world some freedom. Is that so wrong?" "No, it is not. Many times during my forty year career I would have liked to change my orders but could not do so." He pauses and sighs. "I have sworn an oath of loyalty to the Queen, which is currently you, Alexia. In reality, that oath is to the people of this world, because the Queen is supposed to be the caretaker of the people." "How'd that work out for ya'?" The look he tossed off made me immediately regret my snarky question, but he answered it. "Not well, but it is proof as to how traditional this world is. There were always small attempts to overthrow the Government but few attempts on the Queen's life." "Maybe that is proof of the power of this particular Queen, who is now dead." "Your point is well taken. I am an old soldier, my Queen. I do not seek personal power, I wish only for peace. I have seen more than my share of fighting and am tired of it. This new, bright vision of the future that you offer could also sow the seeds of conflict among my people. I wished only to speak with you to be certain you were aware of this possibility." "Do you feel better now?" "I am afraid not. I am not as optimistic as you, seeing mostly the potential problems, not the benefits." "What do you intend to do, General Packer?" "My duty, Alexia. Always my duty." * * * *** * * * *** * * * I needed to talk with Johnathyn that evening but couldn't meet with him until dinner. The three of us had taken one of the smaller, less desired apartments because I'm not staying and Johnathyn and Lee are going back home to New Amsterdam after I leave. Lee could sense my departure was fast approaching but wouldn't say anything. Johnathyn and I barely talked about it but sex between us had gotten more desperate, more passionate, as if each night together would be our last. He didn't ask me to stay but it was as if he wanted to show me what I was giving up by leaving. He made a very convincing argument. Repeatedly. I snuggled close to him after our last session. I had to admit that I had been less aggressive in bed the last few weeks. Whether it was from general fatigue after a long day of wrapping things up or becoming more acclimated to the traditional female role, I'd been letting Johnathyn do pretty much what ever he wanted with me and, frankly, I'd loved it. Another couple weeks of this and I wouldn't be able to leave him. It was tough enough already. He stroked my hair as he gently kissed my neck. "Johnathyn?" "Yes, my love." "I spoke with General Packer today." "I know. I advised him to do so." "Why?" "Because he had expressed reservations to me concerning the future of the Government. I told him that he should speak directly to you, that you would provide him with a fair hearing and a well reasoned response." "Thanks for the vote of confidence. He didn't seem to buy into the plan." "I thought he had some valid objections, Alexia." I turn away, lying on my back, looking up at him. "Not you too! I thought you supported me!" "I do! I agree with your goals and objectives and your plans to achieve them. That doesn't mean that there won't be problems and bumps along the road. Also, you will not be around to put the plan into effect. You are trusting others to do what you would do." "It has to be them! I can't dictate any more! My world has already screwed up your world more than enough." "Fair enough but I have seen more friction between the other Council members than you have." "What friction? I've seen a few little fights and a couple of big ones." "Because they will not fight in front of you unless absolutely necessary. You are Alexia, the Queen of us all! Even now, you still intimidate each and every one of them." "Except Dierdra and Beckwith." "Not Dierdra, she respects you too much. But you do intimidate Beckwith." "I sure as heck don't see it. She's always giving me grief." "She does not wish to be seen that way so she fights hard to hide it. When she is not in your presence, she allows her other sides to show." "Wish I'd known that sooner. So you agree with the General? We're gonna crash and burn?" "I can see either of you being correct. I would prefer to live in the world you envision, so I support you but one cannot blindly ignore other possibilities." "Then what should I do about all this?" He looks down at me, the palm of his right hand cupping my left cheek. "You well know what I wish to happen but since we cannot spend the rest of our lives together, you must trust those who remain in this world to complete the mission." "Great. You could have just told me everything was going to be fine." "Even Leeanna would not have believed that." "True," I sigh. Time to face the elephant. "General Packer had a question for me. He asked when I was leaving." I could feel Johnathyn tense up, though he didn't respond right away. "What did you tell him?" "I told him I hadn't decided yet ... but since then, I have. A week from today." "Seven days?" "I should be able to wrap up everything by then, don't ya' think?" He drops down, kissing me so hard that it feels like he is sucking the very life out of me. "You know what I think, what I desire." He then again shows me what I am leaving behind. He came oh so close to making a sale. * * * *** * * * *** * * * It was so much harder to tell Leeanna. I could reason with Johnathyn, explain why I had to go, and he could agree with me before all the emotional stuff hit us. With Lee, it was just emotions. She cried, then I cried, then we cried. I tried to explain things but she wouldn't buy any of it. She had said she understood when we had talked about it earlier but she had lied. Or maybe not wanted to deal with it. Or maybe it was all in my head because I hoped against hope that she'd understand and not hate me for the rest of her life. Which is exactly what I would do if I was in her position. Johnathyn tried to help, even going so far as to tell her he agreed with me the whole way. Leeanna could tell how much it was tearing him up but she eventually said the right things, trying to make it easier on me. GOD, this whole thing just SUCKED! I've never had a week go by so quickly. There were meetings and plans and goodbyes and more meetings and more goodbyes. By the last day, I was a jittery, edgy, emotional wreck. Dierdra had tried to spend as much free time as she could with me but the business of government was taking more and more of that time. If I hadn't been so damn needy, I'd probably been consoling her, assuring her that she and the rest of the Coven were up to the challenge. In the end, I decided to go at night. It should be night when I arrive back home, hopefully drawing less attention. Pegues had crossed over several times from this point when he was shopping for Patron Miller. It was near a smallish sized town in southern Indiana with two major highways and a rail connection. I'd need that because I was hauling back my own cargo. We recovered all the guns that Miran Pegues had bought with my gold coins. I'm taking those suckers back, selling them and getting my money out of them. In addition, we found almost five thousand dollars in assorted bills and change from the Winthrop compound, most of it in vending machines and the commissary. Guess they were in too much of a hurry to evacuate to think of everything. That money will help me get by until I can return to New York and am back in business. When the final hour arrives, we all gather in a forest glade, about two leagues northeast from the Winthrop compound. It's a small group, just me, my family, the Coven, and Miran Pegues. The cargo is my trusty backpack, laptop and six large, long crates that hold the guns Pegues bought plus a few of the Winthrop Groups full auto models. They ought to fetch top dollar. We bring two wagons, one pulled by Johnathyn's faithful team, Rose and Pugsly. They'd been strong, reliable horses the whole way to Glory and Johnathyn thought they ought to be present at the end. He can be darn sentimental some times. The wagons come to a stop and everyone gets out. I unload the boxes myself, stacking them near where Pegues has set up. Might as well get a final workout for my magic before it's gone forever. The plan is that Pegues opens a portal, six of the Coven will each levitate a crate and push it across the threshold and then I follow. We won't have much time. As I take a last look around, Steinvild walks up and drops to one knee in front of me. "You have saved us all and given us a new world. May we prove worthy of your example, my beloved Queen." She then kisses my hand, stands and steps aside as Emlilly takes her place. Each of them takes a turn, giving me their final best wishes, each ending the same way, "my beloved Queen." Ten of my sister witches had knelt before me when Dierdra takes her turn. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. "I have no children and have never regretted that until we met. Since then, I have experienced a small portion of what mothers feel for their daughters. Now, I will experience their feelings of loss. I will never be the same ... my beloved Queen." I reach down, placing a hand on each side of her shoulders, pull her up and hug her fiercely. "I had a mother," I say. "And I loved her until the day she died but I would have been a better person if you had been my mother." I kiss her cheek and we part, leaving Beckwith as the only one who had not said her peace. We stand five decileagues apart, looking at each other for a moment before I turn away. "Wait!" she cries out. I turn back as she slowly strides toward me, kneeling as the others did, looking up at me. "You have been a thorn in my foot from when we first met. We have fought and argued these past months, giving no quarter. You are an outsider from an exploiting, violent world that tried to rob my world of its resources. My righteous calls for justice for my murdered family were thwarted at every turn. Your leaving this world is the second best thing that can happen. The first is for you to stay and rule as our beloved Queen ... as my beloved Queen." She raises my hand to her lips and kisses it, just as the others had. I reached down, taking her hand, pull her upright and then kiss her hand. "You always kept me honest, Beckwith, making me defend everything I wanted to do. That's a thankless job. Thank you." She joins the others off to the side as I approach Johnathyn and Leeanna, who are holding hands. I take each of their free hands in mine. Johnathyn ducks his head down, our foreheads touching. "There is nothing more to be said, Alexia. May you be successful and find peace and happiness. I know that you will not be able to wear your ring once you cross over, your hand will be too large, but it would bring us joy if you would still carry it upon your person." Leeanna releases my hand, reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a fine gold chain. "It was my mothers," she says. "You can wear the ring like a necklace. No one would ever see it under your shirt." I hold out my hand, fingers extended. "You do it for me, Lee." She carefully works the ring off my finger, slipping it off more easily than I expected. Threading it on the chain, she sets the clasp and drapes it over my head as I squat down so she can reach, all the time keeping a firm grip on Johnathyn's hand. When I stand up, the ring rests on my chest. It may be a trick of the light from the lanterns but it seems to glow just ever so slightly. I pick it up between my thumb and forefinger. "I'd be happy and proud to wear this for all to see but I want it safe and close to my heart." I slide the ring down the collar of my shirt where it lands between my breasts. We all join hands again, looking back and forth at each other. How can I do this? How can I just leave my family? For what? Don't I deserve some happy ever after? Someone touches my shoulder. "Time to go ... Alex." It's Pegues, the man who started this whole damn thing. "Why should I? What's waiting for me over there?" "Your life, your real life, the one you would have had if our world ... if I had not tricked you into coming here. In your heart, you know this is the right thing to do. We all will have a difficult time without you but there is no real choice. You must go for us to be free." The son of a bitch is right. I owe them the chance to have the freedom I have. I give Johnathyn one last kiss and the same to Lee. Letting their fingers slip from mine, I follow Pegues to a spot marked by a pile of stones overgrown with old brush and young weeds. "You will land in a small patch of woods, about half a mile from the border of a town called "Loogootee" in the state of Indiana. There is an Inn nearby. You should be able to rent both a room for the night and a truck in the morning. You will likely need this." He reaches into a bag slung over his shoulder and removes my wallet. "Where the hell did you get that?!" "I removed it the first day you arrived. At first, I thought you having lost it might slow your return to your world. Then, after you volunteered me to buy the guns Patron Miller wanted, I - aahhh - found it useful." I hold out my right hand and he drops it in my palm. "What was useful?" "The Social Security card." "Are the police searching for me over there?" "No more than before, though they may have a better idea where to look." "Great. What other surprises are there?" "A few. You might be disoriented because of the loss of your magic power but it should be temporary." "The disorientation or the loss of magic power?" "Possibly both, that is up to you. Remember, there is not much real magic in your world but that does not mean there is none. Magic is generated by belief. Where belief is strong, you will find the potential for magic. Can you take advantage and use it? Who knows, though, as the seventh son of a seventh son, you have a better chance than most." "Why are you telling me this now, Pegues?" "You will need every advantage you can find if you are going to take on the Consortium and the Winthrop Group." "Why do you care?" "Because I am a creature of my upbringing, as are you. Though your origins are not of this world, you are my Queen. I must honor that." "A little late, aren't you?" "As your people say, 'better late than never.'" "Let's get this over with." "As you wish, my Queen." Dierdra hands him the wand and the lights begin to flash as before, at first chaotic and irregular, but a pattern soon emerges. As the lights begin to synchronize, the shimmer in the air returns which rapidly becomes the familiar radiating waves and, finally, the dark hole in the fabric of this universe which is now linked with mine. "Hurry!" shouts Miran. "I will hold it as long as I can but that will end very soon." The designated witches scramble to get next to a box as, one by one, they silently lift from the ground and float towards the wavering hole, each box disappearing as it slides into the darkness. As the last box vanishes, Pegues grabs my arm. "You are next. Good luck!" I quickly pull the tabs on the arms and legs of my outfit, creating space for my larger male body to fit the clothes I wear. It won't be stylish but it's a lot better than naked. I kick off my shoes and turn for one last look. There is Johnathyn and Lee, holding each other, smiling through their tears, waving good bye. I can't tear my eyes away from them. "Alex! NOW!" shouts Pegues. I can't move. I don't want to move. "ALEX! IT'S CLOSING!" I can see the air starting to clear and lighten around me. At the very last moment, I fall backwards into the shrinking hole, feeling the crushing pressure as the darkness takes me away from all that I love. CHAPTER THIRTY TWO It had been a mistake. Entering the portal backwards, I tumbled out backwards, hitting my lower back on the corner of one of the crates. It hurt like hell. At least it took my mind off the rest of my misery for a little while as I lay on the ground, fighting the pain and gasping to get my breath. Once my head clears and I can breathe almost normally again, I struggle up and look around. Pegues had been on the mark. A clearing in a grove of trees, another little pile of stones nearby, the crates scattered around me. I heft one of the boxes, ignoring the pain, managing to get an end off the ground only about waist high before dropping it. It'll do. I grab the pair of larger shoes out of my backpack, put them on and start walking toward the lit spot on the horizon. After a few decicycles, I can make out distinct sources of light about a league away. The back still aches so I shift my pack to one shoulder and try to pick up the pace. The walking actually helps a little, the muscles warming up, getting looser and hurting less. As I draw closer, I can see there is a truck stop on one side of a divided highway and a motel on the other with fast food restaurants on both sides. Home sweet home. There's not much traffic anywhere this time of night so I trot across the highway and carefully approach the front door of the motel. I don't see any cops around. There'd be no reason for them to be looking for me anyway, at least not tonight. I step into the doorway and the doors swing open automatically. The lobby's clean but sparse. Walking towards the night reception desk, I see a young, red haired woman, late teens or early twenties. She's got her head down, reading a magazine, one finger listlessly twirling her long strawberry red hair. As I step up to the secured window, she ignores me, her nose deep in the magazine. I let the pack slip from my shoulder and hit the ground with a thud. Without looking up, she gives a big sigh, closes her eyes and lifts her head, turning it to face the window of her secure cubicle. "Welcome to the Days Inn," she begins to drone, pushing her magazine aside. "What can I ..." she finally looks at me and stops talking, her mouth hanging open, eyes wide in shock. Does she recognize me? I can't see any wanted posters or anything like that on her side of the likely bulletproof glass. She blinks twice and starts again, this time with a wide smile and bright eyes. "What can I do for YOU, sugar?" "I'd like a single for the night." "You all by your lonesome? That hardly seems right, a handsome stud like you." What the hell? I turn a bit to the side to check and see if someone has walked in behind me but it's still just the two of us. "Uhhh ... Yeah, it's just me. Just a single." She turns to the board behind her and grabs a key card. "You're in luck, handsome. I've got one left, just around the corner." "How much?" "Forty even. With tax and local fees, of course. We do have a nice Continental breakfast with Starbucks coffee." "That's fine." "Just slip your credit card and driver's license under the glass ..." She points to a depressed area in the middle of the counter that is open under the glass. "... and we'll get you in bed in no time." The way she said "bed" made me think for a moment that she wasn't referring to sleep. I bend down, unzip a pouch on the backpack and pull out a roll of bills. Peeling off a hundred, I stash the roll back in the pouch, zip it shut and stand up. Spreading the bill across the glass, I smile at the clerk. "I'd really like to pay with cash and remain, you know, anonymous. You can have this, which should cover the room, fees, taxes and whatever. If there's any left over, what happens to the change is up to you." She leaned closer to the glass to get a better look at the bill, I think. "I'm really not supposed to do that. It's against the rules. You're not gonna cook some meth are you?" "What? No! Of course not! I just hate to be on someone's mailing list, all that junk mail. Just hate it. I'd be grateful if you'd bend those rules just a little bit." She leans in closer, pushing her chest out. "How grateful?" Man! Isn't paying double gratitude enough? "What do you mean?" "Weeellll ... I get off in another hour. I could come back to your room and we could ..." Whoa! Whoa! Whhooaa! What the hell is going on?! "Look, uhh ..." "Julie. Julie Schmidt." "Hi. Alexia uuugh ALEX. I'm Alex. Look, Julie ... I'm kinda beat and I've gotta get up early." I reach down and grab my backpack, wincing in pain as I try to pick it up. "You hurt?" "No, just bruised my back, that's all. No biggie." "Tell ya what. We've got a swimming pool over there." She points with her finger over to a set of double doors off to the right. "It's not much but it does have a Jacuzzi hot tub attached. That'll fix that back up right now." "Sounds nice but I don't have any trunks with me." Her eyes light up. "No problem! This time of night, it'll just be you and me." She slides the key card to me under the glass. "A few minutes in there and you'll sleep like a baby tonight. I guarantee it." My back had stiffened up while I was standing here. If a couple of minutes in a hot tub gets me the room without formally registering and leaving a record of my presence, it's not the worst thing in the world. I take the key card. "Alright. Give me a minute or two to get settled." "You got it!" I wince again as I walk around the corner and down the dim hallway, scanning the tarnished room numbers as I quietly go. When I find the one that matches the number on the card, I slide the card quickly in and out of the reader built into the door frame. The red LED light switches to green, there's a quiet beep and a soft thunk as the deadbolt slides open. I twist the handle until it clicks and push the door open. It's a small room, smells a little antiseptic, like someone was covering up other odors with another smell. I switch on the light and immediately freeze. There's someone else already in the room standing right in front of me! It takes me a few milicycles to realize that it's my reflection in the large mirror over the sink by the door ... but that can't be MY reflection. I drop my bag and step closer to the unfamiliar image. It's not completely unfamiliar as I turn my head first left then right. It's like the same me I remember seeing each day before my trip to the other side but it's changed a lot too. I'm much better looking. Bigger, firmer jaw, prominent cheekbones, sculpted nose, perfect eyebrows, incredibly sexy eyes and tousled black hair. It was as if I had been dropped into the chair of the best plastic surgeon in the world and I had said "make me perfect." I unbutton and drop my shirt, revealing a broad, muscular chest with six pack abs, wide shoulders and large, burly arms, though I've got a narrow waist. Dropping my pants, I can see that my thighs are as well built as the rest of me ... and my dick is twice the size it was! It seems that the changes in my body that happened over there carried over to this world. I was an extremely beautiful woman over there and now I'm a movie star handsome man over here ... or maybe that's porn star. This could be an advantage for me. The cops may be looking for me but I no longer look like me, the old me. If I dyed my hair, grew a moustache and beard, there'd be practically no resemblance at all. Well, maybe just a moustache. I'd hate to hide this jaw. The room phone rings. Who the hell could that be? I gingerly pick it up, like it's a bomb ready to explode and bring it to my ear. "Hello?" "What's taking so long, sugar?" Aw CRAP! It's Julie. Now I know what the big deal was. She saw all this. I look down at my dick. Well, not ALL this, but more than enough to get her interested. Now what do I do? It's probably best that I see her in a public place. If she comes to my room ... "Nothing. I was just looking for a robe or something to put on." "A robe? Ya' think this is the Ritz? Just take a big ol' towel out of the bathroom." "Sure ... fine. I'll be right there." There's a stack of towels in the bathroom right behind me. I take the largest one I can find and start to wrap it around my upper body, covering my now boob-free chest. Force of habit. I move it down to my waist, making sure it is tight and won't fall off. I grab the key card, exit the room and scoot down the hall to the reception room. There's no one there. "Julie!" I hoarsely shout, not wanting to cause a disturbance. "In here, Sugar!" she answers from the pool room. I hurry over and push the left door open. Sticking my head in, I look around. Not exactly Olympic quality. Looks to be not a lot more than ten by fifteen decileagues. There's also a four person in ground hot tub, currently occupied by one person, neck deep in the steaming water "Get that cute tushy over here, Sugar." "What if someone comes in?" "Then they'll get an eyeful. Don't let all the hot air out." I step through the doorway, letting the door swing shut behind me. Julie hugs herself tightly. "Oh. My. GAWD!! You're like a male model, aren't you? Ohhhmygawd!" She pops up out of the water, her small, naked breasts jutting from her chest. She reaches back behind her, rifling through the pile of clothes she left there, and turns towards me, cell phone in hand. "Janie won't believe this!" She holds the phone out with both hands at arms length, preparing to take a picture. I had been loosening the towel wrapped around my waist but now I raise both hands, holding them out in front of me. "Hold it! No one said anything about pictures." She brings the phone down. "Ohh pleeeassee. She won't believe me without some kind of proof! Just one little ..." My towel chooses to slip down to the ground right then. "Jesus fucking CHRIST!" she gasps then her hands come up and she starts taking pictures. "Wait! Wait! Hold it!" I charge the tub, careful not to slip on the wet tile. "Stop! Stop! STOP IT!" I finally reach her, clamping my hand over the phone. "What's the big deal?" She giggles and laughs for several milicycles. "Okay, it's a big deal. A very big deal. The biggest deal I've ever seen." "I'm trying to stay anonymous here. Pictures don't help." "But I won't show them to anybody else." "What about this Janie person?" "She's my best friend! She wouldn't show anyone else. Promise!" Looking down at her, I can hear hints of Leeanna in her voice. I hold out my hand. "Give me the phone." She doesn't do it right away but I motion with my hand for her to give it up and she eventually does. I scroll through the photos, deleting all but two, one that shows my face and one that shows my big deal. I hand back the phone. "There are two photos left. You can show them to Janie and then delete them. You understand me?" I almost added "young lady" to that. "Yeah, I got it. So, what you waiting for?" That little slip and slide across the tile didn't help my back any. I step in the hot tub and ease down into the water. It's not nearly as hot as the Miryian Waters but it's still pretty warm. "Here, try this," says Julie as she stands and leans over me to reach the controls for the tub, giving me a good view of her naked body. All of it. Slim legs, boyish hips but a nice ass. And she's a natural redhead. The water jets fire up as she settles back into the tub. "Ohh yeah. That's good," I moan. Sliding a little to my right, I position myself so the jets hit the exact spot. That's it. Right there. I lean back just a bit to rest on the padded edge and close my eyes while the water jets work over my lower back. Julie was right, this is helping. After a few decicycles, I feel something lightly touching my upper thigh then it slides down to my inner thigh before making contact with my dick. "What are you doing?" I ask without moving or opening my eyes. "Nothing." "It doesn't feel like nothing." "Don't cha' want to fool around a little bit? It's not like you're married or anything." "What makes you think I'm not married?" "You're not wearing a ring, Sugar." I lift the chain, letting the ring dangle in the air. "What do you think this is?" "I saw that but it ain't your ring, it's too small." "It's my wife's ring. She's got mine." "And where's your wife?" Where indeed. "My spouse ... is dead and buried, along with our daughter. I'll never see either one ever again." The small hand that had been massaging my cock, starting to bring it to life, immediately withdrew. "OH GOD! I had no idea! I'm so sorry! When did it happen?" Today, about two cycles ago. "Last week, an auto accident, hit and run, other driver was probably drunk. Hit two other cars before taking them out." "That's horrible! The cops couldn't do anything?" "No, not enough evidence." "If someone did shit like that to my family, I wouldn't let it stand." "I agree completely, Julie." * * * *** * * * *** * * * The room phone rings at the ungodly hour of 7:30 a.m. At least, that's what the cheap clock radio on the nightstand reads. "Hello?" I answer after lunging for the handset. "Alex, it's Julie. Can I come in?" "Julie? Didn't you just get off work six hours ago?" "Yeah, but I had to tell Janie about you." "And?" "I told her the pictures didn't do you justice." "Wait. Are you ..." "We've got breakfast." Jeez. I should tell her to drop dead but I do need to find some kind of transportation and quick. Looking the way I do now, my driver's license picture doesn't match so a rental will be tough, plus I don't want my name out there anyway. A little local help is exactly what I need. "Okay, give me a few minutes to get dressed." "Don't bother. You'll just have to get undressed." "No way!" "No funny business, I promise. We know it's too soon. She just wants to see, that's all." Local help. It's a small price to pay. "Hurry up." "Great! We're in the lobby. How do you like your eggs?" "Scrambled. Moist, almost sloppy." "Got it." There's a knock at my door in about ten decicycles. I peek through the peep hole and see Julie and a second girl. If it's a show they want. I throw open the door. "Hello, ladies. What can I do for you?" I'm stark naked, hanging out for all to see. Julie starts to laugh but her friend just stares, mouth open, eyes as big as golf balls. "Hey, Alex. This is my BFF, Janie." "Charmed, Janie. Would you two like to come in?" "Sure. Here's your breakfast." Julie walks in, handing me a bag with several Styrofoam clamshell containers stacked on top of each other. Janie just stands outside, still agog. "Janie! Get in here!" Julie hisses. "Are you sure?" she asks. "Don't worry. He's cool." Janie looks up at my face for the first time since we were formally introduced. "I'm cool," I assure her. She slowly walks past the door and into the room, jumping a bit when I close it. Luckily, no one else walked by while the door was open. I take the top container out of the bag and open it. Hot scrambled eggs, just a tiny bit drier than I like but good enough. "Now that you ladies have seen all you can, I'll get dressed and eat. If you don't mind." "Actually," Julie says, shyly. "Could you, like, uhh, not get dressed yet." "I don't want my breakfast to get cold." "Oh, go ahead and eat. We'll just watch." "What kind of fetish are you girls into?" "Fetish?!" Janie asks. "It's nothing like that," says Julie. "I just want to see what you look like doing that so I can remember and ... you know, think about it when I ... you know." I don't know how I feel about being someone else's masturbatory fantasy, though I probably was the same thing in the other world, at least until I started acting more like the Queen. Maybe even after for some people. At least Julie is being explicit about it. And she'll owe me after were done. "Alright, I'll do it, but if I get burned, it's on you." "Great!" The room has a round table near the window along with two chairs. I had drawn the curtains last night when I went to bed and they were still closed. I pull up a chair and sit down. The girls sit opposite me on the bed, Julie smiling and Janie close to hyperventilating. After polishing off the eggs, I check out the rest of the contents of the bag. I think they had brought me at least two of everything that was available. "This is really way too much food for one person. I hate to waste it. If you girls would like to share it with me ..." "Thanks!" Julie exclaims. "I was hoping you'd ask. I'll have the biscuits and gravy." "What about you, Janie?" "Uhhhh, sure." I pull the table closer to the bed. Janie takes the other chair and Julie sits on the bed. Julie digs right in but Janie is more hesitant, half the time concentrating on her food and the other half on me. I could be fucking either or both of these girls right this very moment, all I have to do is ask. Hell, not ask, demand. Who knows what else I could get them to do. I got a taste of being a beautiful person in the other world but being a bad ass witch complicated things. Pretty sure I created more fear than lust. At least that was what I was aiming for. To be truthful, I was probably more comfortable with fear because fear is a more manly emotion than lust. The chances of a man being lusted after are much lower than being feared. You can be feared regardless of how you look but being a sex object requires a certain basic hotness that most men can't aspire to. I certainly didn't before now. Johnathyn came awfully close but he was uncomfortable about it. I'm beginning to understand that feeling. Now, back home, I'm one of the beautiful people. With my hot looks, body and ... equipment, I'm attracting attention wherever I go. Keeping a low profile may be impossible. There's no doubt I'm gonna have to change my method of operation. "So, have either of you ladies ever heard of the Consortium? I think they've got an operation around here." Julie shakes her head "No" while she swallows. "I don't think so. I'd know if someone used a company credit card. We always require credit cards unless you're a 'special customer. '" Her bare foot touches my crotch. I let it stay there. "You ever heard of the Consortium, Janie?" I ask. She's taken aback but recovers. "I'm not sure. Blackhills Mining has a dig about fifteen miles away. I think I read somewhere that they're a member of this Consortium thing." "Where'd you see that?" asks Julie. "In the newspaper last month. I read more than the comics, fashion and the wedding announcements, you know." Fifteen miles away? That doesn't make any sense. "What do they do out there?" "Coal, I guess. It's either coal or limestone in this part of Indiana." I guess they could hide a portal on the grounds of a coal mine but we're a lot closer than fifteen miles to the Winthrop base on the other side. There must be some kind of spatial distortion on transporting between worlds, though it must be constant if Pegues used the same spot every time to leave and arrive. It'd be interesting to experiment but I don't have the time now. I'm full and the girls are just picking at their food as they stare at me and sigh quietly. "Well, I can't say this hasn't been one of the weirder experiences in my life but I've got to get going. When's check out, Julie?" "Don't worry, sugar. All taken care of. As I said, you're a 'special customer. '" "Okay. If that's the case ..." I start to stand up but before I get six inches out of my chair, Janie pops up, hitting the table with her legs and shaking everything on it. "Can I touch it!" she blurts, immediately covering her mouth with her hands after she said it. "You mean ... it?" She looks at Julie, who nods her head. Janie looks back at me. "Yes," she says quietly. No harm in that. "Sure." "Could you make it ...hard?" "I suppose I could." "No! Let me!" cries Julie. "I've been thinking about this all night!" "That's fine, but before we start, do either of you know where I could get a truck or a cargo van cheap?" They look at each other for a few milicycles before Janie pipes up. "Earl Sweeney's always got something for sale like that." "Will it be in decent shape?" "Earl's a hell of a mechanic," says Julie. "He takes pride in his work." "Good. Does he collect guns by any chance?" "Sugar, this is southern Indiana. Who doesn't?" CHAPTER THIRTY THREE I let the girls take a few pictures posing with my fully erect dick, pictures where you couldn't see my face. I'd actually been curious myself about how big I was now. Julie was very enthusiastic, licking, stroking, sucking and kissing until I was hard as stone and almost eleven inches long. She would have kept going and I'd have let her if my ring hadn't been dangling between us. It doesn't matter where I am and that my spouse is a man, I'm still married and better start acting that way. You never realize how cruel God is until he gives you an eleven inch cock and then makes you feel guilty about using it. Thanks old man. Julie understood. "Too soon," she said. "Like never," I thought. After our photo session, the girls offer to take me shopping for some clothes. They are disappointed when I insist they be used. A guy with nothing but new clothes looks a bit suspicious. Luckily, Loogootee has a St. Vincent DePaul thrift shop. The girls treat me like their own personal Ken Doll, except for being anatomically correct. They get to watch me change clothes several times, enjoying every minute of it. I get an ego boost from the whole thing too. We go to Earl Sweeney's auto repair and used car sales shortly after eleven cycles uhh hours. He has an older Extended Cab Ford Ranger 4 x 4 with a topper over the bed which is just perfect. Basic black, nothing fancy, mechanically sound. He trades me even up for one of the military M4A1's and thinks he's getting the better of me. No one asks where I got it from and I don't ask if he has the necessary permits and licenses. Everyone's happy. I was on the road to Indianapolis by 2:00 pm. It was Thursday, May 24th. I had left on November 15th, just a little over seven months earlier. It seemed like years. I promised the girls I'd look them up if I ever came back this way. I was lucky in that there was a gun show in Indianapolis starting the next day, Friday, May 25th. I spent the night in a sleeping bag in the bed of the truck, parked in a State park. It felt just like home. I was heart sick when I woke up, remembering where I was. Selling at the gun show was ridiculously easy. Just walk around with the rifle on your shoulder, a "For Sale" sign in the muzzle. I could have gotten rid of my entire inventory but I wanted to keep a low profile. The trick was going to be the military weapons. You could sense if the guy you were talking to was a real wheeler dealer. If he was, you could broach the subject. The sooner I could sell them, the better but I wasn't going to just give them away. By the end of the show on Sunday, I had sold almost one third of the guns, including a M4A1 at an insane price. Before leaving town on Monday, I had converted the cash back to gold. In the time I was gone, the price of gold had dropped but the value of the guns had increased. I was going to make money on the deal. I followed the gun show to its next two stops and was sold out by Saturday of the third week. That's when it happened. The third show was at the Illinois State Fairgrounds, renting space in one of the large buildings. There were a couple of other traveling shows at the same place in different buildings. One was a computer show. I ended up buying some new equipment to replace what I had left behind when I escaped in New York. More importantly, there was a New Age fair in a smaller building. As soon as I walked in, I could tell there were some believers in magic in the building. Ever since returning, I had strained to do something magical but always came up dry, even the smallest levitation of a feather. Nothing. And it felt like nothing inside, too. I hadn't realized how intertwined I was over there with magic until it was gone. Once the shock of returning wore off, I began to feel as if I were empty, devoid of any strength beyond that of my muscles. Over there, it was like I was always tapped into a hidden battery, ready to just flip the switch and let the juice flow. Here, I was cut off. But, when I entered the room, I could feel a steady drip of power, slowly filing my tank. Even the smallest act of magic would have drained the tank dry but it was there, available, in this world and I could wield it as the seventh son of a seventh son. Pegues was right, there are hot spots. I just need to learn to do more with less. Unfortunately, we're going our separate ways by the end of tomorrow but it gave me hope. I ought to be able to find something like this in New York, a gathering of believers in magic. And when I do, the training begins. * * * *** * * * *** * * * Using the free wi-fi at various McDonalds as I worked my way across the Midwest unloading the guns, I had been searching for any information about Alex Thompson, to see if there were charges pending against me. I also searched for any mention of Jacob or Ian McShane. Jacob had plead guilty to conspiracy to steal information and gotten a reduced sentence, probably for future testimony against McShane, who was out on bail awaiting trial. Or testimony against me if I was caught. Jacob was scheduled for release in the next few weeks. Nothing filed against me but there were a number of investigations that had been started but were on hold after my disappearance. I thought about trying to contact Tommy or Frank. I didn't think either one would rat me out but the cops likely talked to them after I disappeared and probably put the fear of God into them. It's not worth the risk right now. The first thing I'll need to do is create a new identity. Gun shows are great places to establish contacts among the more paranoid segments of the American population. They are full of how-to-it books on everything from build-it-yourself nuclear bomb shelters to your own home made missile defense system. New identities are kinda middle of the road for these folk. I bought a couple of the books and studied up on the techniques. I didn't want to hire anyone to do the work. They might talk if pressured. I'd spent my professional life breaking into computer systems and taking information. Now, I'd use those skills to insert information. It took a couple of weeks and visits to the Social Security, Internal Revenue, United States Post Office and New York Bureau of Motor Vehicles data bases to have a driver's license and social security card in the name of "Lance Mastiff" waiting for me in a Brooklyn Post Office Box when I got to town. I know. That's a name you're likely to remember. It's just barely above a porn actor's name. Or maybe it IS a porn actor's name. Either way, the name is a better match for my new looks and my new approach. No more laying low. Once I get my new identity papers in hand, I check on the rest of my assets. The balance of my coins are still in the safety deposit box of a local bank, the box held in the name of "The Freedom Trust," a legal entity I set up to hold my gold in a name not associated with me, just in case the feds or local police came looking for it. The last thing I have to do is find a place to stay. Camping in the truck is all well and good for the trip here, but they aren't going to let me stay in Central Park. I know just the place, if it's available. When I pull up in front of the store, the faded, yellow, hand printed "Apartment for Rent" sign is still posted in the front window by the door. I push the door open and there's a familiar tinkling of a wind chime as the top of the door brushes against it as it opens. "Anybody here?" I shout, pushing the door fully open. There's no answer right away but, in a few milicycles, an older woman calls out from an area behind the glass counter. "I'll be with you in just a sec! You can look around." "That's fine. Take your time." There's no need. It's the same inventory she's had for sale the last ten years. My mother was friends with the proprietor, Mrs. Janet LaRouche, for many years. We'd visit this store a lot. I wander slowly through aisles; taking in the familiar smells of herbs and spices, the basic ingredients of her spells because Mrs. Janet LaRouche is a witch. A Wiccan to be more accurate. It makes me smile to think about all the ceremonies and meetings Mom drug Terry and I to, though he was always more willing than I. Different women were there but always a core group of fifteen, lead by LaRouche, casting spells and creating charms, sometimes for a specific client, other times just for general world peace but always for positive things, never for evil. They were always trying to help. They helped us several times when money was tight. It embarrassed me at the time and I'm still not comfortable with those memories but I know they meant well. That's what I thought a witch was until my trip down the rabbit hole, an odd, slightly funny smelling, and ineffective but kind old lady. I know better now. Janet has a few nice, tidy apartments above the store which she rents at a very reasonable rate but only to people with the correct aura. She'll "read" a prospective tenant and reject him or her if their aura is wrong. The apartments are empty more often than they're occupied. I don't know what my aura is like now but it's worth a shot. I hear her behind me as she enters the room. I turn as she starts to try to sell me something. "What can I do for you, young man? Some trouble with your love life? Need help with your studies? I have just the thing for any trouble you may ... Oh My!" I'm getting used to it now; the way women react when they first see me. Most manage to keep quiet but even the quiet ones check me out. I'd object but I did the same thing to women before I crossed over to the other side. I give Mrs. LaRouche a big friendly smile. She's the same, shortish, plump, late middle age ex-hippie that I remember. Her knees buckle for just a moment but she recovers, strolling over to the display counter. "I'm sorry you ... uhhh, surprised me. What can I help you with Mr ... ?" "Mastiff. Lance Mastiff. I was told that you had an apartment for rent." "I do but not just for anyone." "I understand, you need to be certain I'm a trustworthy tenant. Do you need some references?" Of which I have none. "No, Mr. Mastiff. If you'll give me your hand, I'll get my own references." Walking over to the counter, still smiling at her, I place my hand on the glass top. She ignores the hand, locking her eyes on my face. I wait a moment before disturbing her. "Mrs. LaRouche?" "What? .... Oh yes, sorry," she blushes. She takes my hand and closes her eyes, breathing slowly. After a few seconds, she lightly gasps, tightly scrunching her eyes. Another few seconds later, she gasps again, a bit more loudly this time, twisting her head to the right side, then back to the left. She takes several deep breaths and then yelps, dropping my hand and backing away. She stares at me over the top of her glasses. "Have we met before, Mr. Mastiff?" "It's possible. I know a number of people who are interested in magic, that's how I found out about your apartments. Perhaps at a s?ance?" "I don't think so, I'd remember." "You're likely right. We probably haven't met then." "But your aura. Something is familiar. You've suffered terrible losses for someone so young." Maybe she's not so ineffective. "Yes. My ... spouse and daughter. Recently." "Other family members also." Okay, she's good. "You're right. My mother and brother." "And now you seek ... retribution?" Fine, very good. "What of it?" "But there is more, much more. Your aura is ... I've never seen anything like it. Twisted or turned or reversed or inside out ... I-I don't know how to describe it. It's frightening." "So I can forget about the apartment?" She says nothing, just studying me for several seconds, then holds out her hand again. "Let me take another look." I do as she asks and she closes her eyes, holding my hand with both of hers, one on top and the other on the bottom. She begins to talk to herself. "So much pain ... and anger ... righteous anger ... better there should be peace ... no fear ... reckless ... determined ... short sighted ... no future." She lets my hand slip from between hers. "You are not a danger to me or my friends, at least not directly. I would really like to study your aura. There is so much I do not understand." She takes off her glasses, polishing the lenses with the edge of her apron before putting them firmly in place over her nose. "You are interesting. Sometimes that trumps my better judgment. Today, you're lucky. When will you move in?" "Thank you, Mrs. LaRouche. You won't regret it, I promise. I don't have much with me so I'll move in today, if that's okay?" "First and last months rent, in advance." "No problem. How about the first six months, in advance?" "If you had said that at the start, this would have been a shorter conversation, Mr. Mastiff." "Please, call me Lance, Mrs. LaRouche." "As you wish." She leads me up the narrow stairs to the second floor. There's a short hallway with a door at the end and on either side. "You can have your choice, Lance. They're quite similar, though the one on the left has a bit more closet space." "Which one faces the street?" "The one on the right." "That'll be fine." She opens the door and we walk in. It's small but complete. Separate bedroom, full bath, hardwood floors, skylight, kitchen's a touch undersized but opens on one wall to the living room so it feels more spacious. It's as nice as any of my home made digs. Looking out the window, I can see what really makes this the perfect place. Two store fronts down the street is a voodoo supply store. Across the street from that is a bookstore that specializes in the occult and right next to that store is a magic themed restaurant. In the two blocks on either side of Janet LaRouche's business, there are no less than twelve magic related stores, including a classic magician's supply company. It's like the Little Italy for magic. I can feel the belief in the air. It's unfocused, diffuse but there. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a quarter. Leaving it in the palm of my open hand, I concentrate on the coin. It quivers for several seconds before slowly rising just a fraction of an inch and hovering a moment before dropping back down. I close my hand, clutching the coin. "Is everything satisfactory, Lance?" "More than satisfactory, Mrs. LaRouche." *** * * * *** * * * *** I've hit a brick wall. I've never hit a brick wall before, at least not one that I couldn't eventually break. The Consortium has me stymied. I've been able to get inside their network but there's a lot of stuff not on the network. There's reference to a second, strictly internal, network, one that's not connected to the internet. I've scoured the available network for some connection to the other but no luck. Unfortunately, that's not the only problem. New York is getting on my nerves. The crowds, the noise, the congestion, everything that makes New York, New York is starting to annoy the hell out of me. I've lived here my whole life and never gave a second thought to living any other place but now I can't imagine staying here another second after I finish with the Consortium. I don't know where I can go but I can't stay here. My growing disgust for my hometown makes working on the hack even harder, one frustration feeding on the other. Working on building my magic muscles takes away some of the stress but doesn't make any progress on the main problem. Eventually, it becomes clear that I'm never going to get inside from the outside. I've had to actually physically break into a system only twice before in my entire career and in both cases I hired some experts to do the actual breaking and entering. Those targets weren't nearly as security conscious as the Consortium. This time, I don't want to involve any outsiders which means I'll have to do it all myself. Their office is on 56th Street, across from Central Park. I know it's hard to believe but I've never spent much time in Central Park. There's nothing there that really interested me, being the ultimate city boy. The city's lousy with basketball courts so I didn't need Central for that. I stop by the Consortium just before lunch and set up camp in the bus stop shelter near the entrance. Dressed in baggy clothes with a baseball cap pulled low, I'm fairly inconspicuous as the employees come pouring out of the building. The first thing I notice is the extremely strong magic vibe, much stronger than the background level back at Mrs. LaRouche's. Then it hits me. Of course! It's one thing to have a general, nebulous belief that magic exists; it's a whole other thing to KNOW magic exists. There are people in this building who know for an undisputed fact that magic is alive and well in another universe. That certainty is power to me; direct, focused power. There are also likely people who work there who have heard rumors, people who aren't true believers but who could be pushed over the edge into belief, given the right information, thereby making this an even hotter hotspot. The question is how do I do that? I take a slow walk around the front and back of the office building. There are fixed cameras in the front but tracking cameras in the back. All doors have ID swipes to get in but just push bars to get out, probably for fire or other emergency evacuations. There is a security post just inside the front door, manned by two guards. I'm not picking up any wi-fi signals, encrypted or otherwise, from them, though there are several in the neighborhood, including Starbucks. I need to think about this for awhile. It's a nice day so I cross the street and head into the park. The farther I get away from the traffic and the street noise, the calmer I feel, even though there are still a lot of people around. As I walk deeper into the park, there are fewer and fewer people. I end up sitting on a bench near a sports field. There aren't any organized teams playing but there are some kids running around, their mothers sitting on other benches scattered around the area. The sun is shining, the sky is a deep blue, the grass is green and the kids are laughing. All seems right with the world, though I know that's crap. For some reason, my problems don't seem so unsolvable. Just looking around at the scenery, I can feel the tension melt away. The problems don't disappear but more options occur to me, potential answers to be sorted through, evaluated and, if lucky, implemented. Just then, a soccer ball goes whizzing by my head, followed quickly by two kids on foot. "Sorry, Mister!" the blonde shouts as he chases the ball down. The dark haired boy hangs back. "That's okay," I shout back. "No harm, no foul. Shouldn't you guys be in school?" "No," answers the blonde. "We're home schooled. Mom brings us out for recess and to play with other home schooled kids and to see all the people playing different instruments." "Sounds like a sweet deal. You guys be careful with that ball." The blonde goes charging past me, ball in hand, closely followed by his shy friend. "We will," he assures me. "Thanks!" I give a quick wave with my hand. "You're welcome." Looking around, I notice the number of people playing a musical instrument or performing or drawing or some other act, attracting watchful crowds. I can feel the germ of an idea begin to develop in my mind. It may take a month or so before I can be ready but it may get me everything I want. CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE Naturally, some people wanted to blame me. The loss happened on my watch but I wasn't the one who alienated the witch Alexia in the first place. I just passed on a request from the First Minister, which was approved by the higher up honchos of the Consortium. I was trusted with effectuating policies, not making them. No one asked me. If they had, I'd have told them to leave the Thompson family alone or make damn sure you get them all. I got stuck with the consequences of a half-assed job. After almost two months in limbo, the big man decides he wants to talk to me directly. I'd already been debriefed by everyone and his dog, second guessed from hell and back but no one had ever said I should be fired. That's the interesting thing about being assigned over there. You've got instant job security. It's better than tenure in a University. Simply by crossing over, you become privy to a secret the Consortium can't afford to be revealed. If they were to fire you, you become a security risk, despite the twenty or so non-disclosure forms you signed during your career. The Consortium wants you where they can keep track of you, which means in an office in the building. I've been given nothing but busy work since returning to this world, something I'm not used to. In the past, the name of "Donna White" was on the short list of fast rising employees. No more. Not that anyone would consult me but the scuttlebutt is we aren't doing that well. The company had gotten too dependant on imports through the portal, spending resources to expand production over there instead of looking for new sources over here. The economics clearly favored that strategy. One look at unit costs made that obvious but there was more than just unit costs involved. You can't afford to become dependant on a single source no matter how profitable. If something goes wrong, you're in trouble. Something went wrong and we're in trouble. My appointment with the CEO is at 1:45 p.m. today. I had lunch at a little bistro two blocks from the office so I walked there and was heading back. There was a small crowd on the sidewalk about half a block away from the entrance to our building, fifteen to twenty people. As I got closer, I could see that some busker has set up a makeshift magic show