In this Night We Own (The Commander Book 6) (6 page)

Lori cleared her throat to interrupt.  “Read me the note Carol left.”

“Fine,” Tonya said, not sure this would help in the slightest.  Because of her age and experience she looked at the world in a far different way than Lori, who wasn’t yet thirty.  She read the note over the phone.

“Okay, I know what this sounds like,” Lori said.  “If I got a letter from you along those lines, I would be ready to declare war as well.  But Hancock’s an Arm and she doesn’t even
see
the Focus nuances.  For instance, she’s serious about her ‘Focus savings and loan’ comment; if the two of you crazies were on better terms she would probably welcome your advice on the subject.  This is not a blackmail threat like it would be from a rival Focus.”  Lori was safe with this knowledge, as she ran the same off-the-books bank for her ally Focuses in New England.  “Yes, she’s saying you can’t protect your people from her, but you knew that already from your dealings with Keaton.  That’s a legit Arm style peace overture you’ve got there.”

“Nobody gets a free pass after invading my office and rifling through my private business!”

“What, you’re saying you can’t deal with anyone who uses your own standard tactics?” Lori said, artfully arch.  “I have noticed what you’re training your people to do using my advanced Transform training techniques.”  Sensory enhancements and stealth, not the combat skills Lori trained.  “Not that I’m going to complain about the technique theft.”  Pause.  “Compared to the last Focus who Carol fought, you’ve come off pretty well indeed.  You should do what she wants and apologize.”

Interesting.  Lori failed to keep the disgust out of her voice.  Knowing Lori’s strong Monster-hunting-trained stomach, Hancock must have done some Keaton-style intestinal decorating or something similarly disgusting.

Tonya smelled an opening among the gathering nuances.  She pounced.

“So you got to witness the darker side of Hancock up close and personal when you were being an ‘observer’ during the Focus Peshnak takedown?”

“Up close and personal doesn’t come close,” Lori said.  “I was riding on Carol’s back when she raped Peshnak with a street sign.”

Hmm.  Carol had pushed Lori’s big red button and likely didn’t even realize it.  “Arms consider rape to be their privilege,” Tonya said, icing this cake as thickly as she could without revealing her manipulations.  “They’re as much sexual predators as they are every other kind of predator.”

Lori didn’t respond.  “Keaton is less bothered by killing than the most sadistic Focus is about repeatedly juice stripping her Transforms, and as you know Keaton’s got far worse sadistic kinks.  I’m convinced all the Arms have them, though I will admit the type of kink differs from Arm to Arm.  Hancock’s into domination and control.”

Through the Crow letter circuit, which she joined after the Arm Flap, she had learned a lot from the Focus’s male counterparts.  Some Crows, such as Sky, were total blabbermouths, and much of what they said sounded exaggerated.  Sky had told several Crows a story about calming Hancock down by letting her rape him during one of her recovery rampages.  Tonya had ignored the story as another exaggeration, but what if it was true?  With a little bit more work, she might be able to drive a wedge between Lori and Hancock.  Permanently.  Then she wouldn’t have to worry about the foolish kick-the-can-down-the-road promise she had made to Lori about pushing the male Major Transform issue with the Council.

“Hancock likes to break people and she gets off on breaking them,” Tonya said.  “Psychological breakage, not torture for torture’s sake.  I’m sure what she did when she broke Focus Peshnak was more enjoyable than any sex, even counting whatever Crows she’s lured to her bed.”  She also knew about Lori as the ‘soap opera Focus’, and how both of the Crows she was amorously linked to had also found their way to Carol’s bed.  The fact had to gall, and rouse her jealousy.

“I don’t think so,” Lori said, angry.  “This happened in a frigging battle, not during one of Carol’s over-the-top recruitment efforts.”  Bingo!

“Nevertheless, I can’t help thinking that’s what she’s working up to doing to me,” Tonya said.  “Which is why I’m angry.”

“If so, she’s not going to be listening to me on the subject,” Lori said, her emotions dissonant to the meaning of her words.  Definitely trouble in paradise.  “I’m not even sure I want to stop her.  You want my help reigning in Hancock?  Publicly apologize to her first.”

Click.

Tonya smiled.  She had called to vent, and instead ended up driving a starter wedge between her two biggest pains in the ass.  This showed promise, a lot of promise.

Part 2
Politics By Other Means

Betrayal is the only truth that sticks.

Arthur Miller

Chapter 4

Never startle a Crow.

“The Life of Crows”

Tonya Biggioni: August 20, 1968

The office had walls now. Simple drywall, not yet painted, but walls. And a door, which Tonya appreciated.  A file cabinet occupied the northeast corner of the room, just shipped in from Faith Corrigan, COD, holding the Council’s files on every Focus in the United States.  She was already far behind Polly’s schedule, not even done with this year’s crop of new Focuses.  Her household remained unsettled two days after Hancock had broken into her office and left a bomb on her desk.

Tonya wished she had never even heard the word ‘Arm’.  The only reason she had been stuck running the Focus Mentoring program was her supposed Arm Flap failures.

“So you let me know if you need anything,” Tonya said into the phone.  “I’m glad everything’s going so well, and congratulations.  It’s a tough job.”

Tonya updated Frances Raker’s file as she put the phone down.  Cathy Elspeth had been mentoring her and Frances was in good shape; Raker had transformed young, and had enough sense and stomach to allow her mother to run the day-to-day household details.  Tonya hadn’t been surprised at Raker’s success.  She had a lot of respect for Cathy, unlike some of the other Focus mentors.  Tonya had already run into two disaster cases and wondered how long it would be before she ran into a third.

She put Raker’s file into her Out box for Delia to file later and pulled the next file on the stack.  Tonya had pulled the recent transformations to target first.  There had been thirty-two Focus transformations already in 1968 and she had five more left to go.  The next on her list was Focus Gail Rickenbach, and her file had little more than her name, age, and Clinic.  Tonya rolled her eyes.  Wini Adkins, a first Focus, Tonya’s old friend and current chief adversary was mentoring this baby Focus and showing her usual lack of bureaucratic polish.  Delia, responsible for running down contact information, had clipped a little white piece of paper to the outside of the file with a phone number on it.

Tonya looked at the round wind-up clock on the file cabinet, which said 10:07 P.M.  She wished she remembered whether eastern Michigan was on Central Time or Eastern Time.  After all the years dealing with Wini Adkins of Detroit, she ought to know.

A Focus wouldn’t be in bed at this hour, in any case.

The people on the other end of the phone took over fifteen minutes to track down their Focus.  Tonya wished she had one of those modern expensive phone systems, where some secretary like Delia could make the initial call from another room and then transfer it to Tonya when she got through.  However, her household didn’t have the money, and so here she was with a phone on her ear, trying to update records while she waited.

“Hello?” a female voice said from the other end of the line.  An unfriendly voice.

Tonya wasn’t surprised.  Focuses got a fair number of crank phone calls, and Focuses often answered the phone with a certain lack of warmth.  The fool who answered the phone must not have told the Focus who was calling.

“I’m Focus Tonya Biggioni,” Tonya said. “I’m the new Director of the Focus Mentoring Program.”

“Yeah?” An openly hostile voice.  “Betha told me.  Rickenbach here.  What do you want?”

Ah, now this was something new.  Tonya mentally noted number three and wondered if this disaster would turn out to be as bad as the last two (one young Focus who killed off any Transform she didn’t like and had attracted police attention, and the other presumably enslaved, as Tonya hadn’t been able to talk to her).

“We’ve just recently transferred responsibility for the Mentoring Program, and so I’m calling all the young Focuses to find out how you’re doing,” Tonya said in a friendly tone, ignoring the other Focus’s hostility.  “In your file, you’re listed as…”

“You have a file on me?”  If the Focus’s tone had been cold before, it was frigid now.

Almost, Tonya responded with some reassuring platitude.  Her mouth was open to say the words.  It was the end of a long day and she came within an instant.

Just as the words were about to come out, though, she realized who she talked to.  Some young kid, twenty-two years old, with little or bad mentoring, and no trust in the Focus Council.  Perhaps no knowledge at all of the Focus Council, the Network or even the existence of the first Focuses.  A Focus with the younger generation’s distrust of authority, and files, and information collected in secret, and too old to have her parents running her household for her.  She hoped.

Tonya decided to spin a different tune.  “Would you like me to read it to you?”

“What?” the other Focus said, startled.  “Okay.  Sure.”

Tonya read her the first page of the file.  It didn’t take long.  Tonya didn’t tell Gail about pages two through five.

“There’s nothing there.”

“I know,” Tonya said, feigning sadness.  “We’re just a group of several hundred Focuses trying to support each other.  We do the best we can.”

“Mmm.”

“So tell me, I get the impression Wini Adkins wasn’t 100% helpful,” Tonya said.

“I guess you might say that,” Gail said, followed by a minute laugh.  “She showed up at seven in the morning the day after I woke up as a Focus, called me a stupid young fool and wanted to teach me how to torture my people.  Then she disappeared and I haven’t seen her since, for which I’m eternally grateful.”

Tonya winced.  This sounded like a bit much even for Wini, although Wini could be a cast-iron bitch when she wanted.  Strange, though.  Even Wini’s pathetic charisma should be able to make a baby Focus hop.

“Gail, I’m really, really sorry about that.  Every young Focus is supposed to have some older Focus helping her out.  Our mentoring system doesn’t always work well, but things shouldn’t ever be this bad.”  Given what Tonya had seen of Corrigan’s former organization, far too many Focuses had been falling through those cracks in the past few years.  “How are you doing?”

Gail didn’t answer for a long moment.  When she did, her voice was almost reluctant.

“Based on what I’ve figured out, I’m not sure I want some other Focus helping me out.  I certainly don’t want any other Focuses giving me quote unquote suggestions that turn out to be orders.”

Okay, pissed off Focus here, with more problems than an early encounter with Wini.  “I’m here to listen, answer questions, and give advice, if you want, Gail,” Tonya said.  She heard complete disbelief in Gail’s breathing.  “And, yes, I am a Focus, and…” making a guess Gail already knew, based on her ‘figured out’ comment and the ‘journalism major’ quote on page 3 of Gail’s file “yes, I’m on the Focus Council.  We’re not all ogres.  I won’t lie to you, though, some of us are utter bitches.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” Gail said, voice still flat with repressed anger.  “I’m willing to let bygones be bygones, though.  If your organization leaves me and my people alone, I’ll leave you alone as well.”

Tonya’s eyebrows shot up.  “You think you’re protecting your household?”

“Damned fucking straight.”

There had to be a way to salvage this debacle.  Gail was an instant away from hanging up on Tonya, turning the difficult into the impossible.  Tonya decided to try turning the young Focus’s over-protectiveness into a positive.  “Then in my mind you’re a real Focus.  A peer.  Keep that in mind when judging the actions of other Focuses and their people.”

“Adkins and Cottsfield were being nasty to protect their people?”  Gail snorted.  “Their slaves?”

Cottsfield?  Dammit, why Cottsfield?  Talk about bad luck.  “Yes.  Focus Adkins is a power among Focuses, and would rather her neighbor Focuses, like yourself, followed her lead on all things.  When she protects her political power, she protects her people.  Focus Cottsfield, on the other hand, is a politically weak and marginal Focus who can’t afford to do anything except keep her people fed without risking further political problems.  If she dealt with a Focus like you, and made any mistakes, it would be a disaster for her household.”  No need to sugarcoat things for this newbie Focus.  Someone willing to go nose-to-nose with a known Council Focus over the telephone, at five months in, was no easily flustered sheltered wallflower.

“Oh,” Gail said.  “Okay.  I got it.  The ‘protect the household’ thing is something all of us Focuses get.  I shouldn’t be surprised, given the number of lies and omissions we’ve documented in the pamphlets the Transform Clinic gave me.  I guess I shouldn’t come down on Focus Cottsfield too hard, given my own strong feelings on the subject.”

The ‘we’ in Gail’s statement had Tonya’s interest, as well as the word ‘number’.  Also Gail’s omission of Wini from her faux apology.  “So, how are you and your household doing?”

“Things could be better,” Gail said. “We’re living out in the open, on a farm, except for a few people in a small farm house.  We were saving up to find a place to live, but – ah – but the man who was managing the household’s money…”  She stopped then and took a breath.  Tonya sensed the effort it cost Gail to control her voice. “Anyway, he ran off and took all our money with him a little ways back,” she said.  No sobs, but Tonya did hear in Gail’s voice the tears rolling down her face. “We’re doing some scrambling, trying to figure out how we’re going to cope with winter – we do live in Michigan.  That’s our major worry at the moment.”

Tonya’s heart ached for her.  So young, so ignorant. “Oh, Gail, I’m so sorry,” Tonya said.  “So very, very sorry.  Did you report the theft to the police?”

“Yes, the next day.  They don’t think they’ll be able to find him.  They said, even if they did, they doubted they’d find our money.  My people’s life savings was in that bank account and it’s all gone now.”

Tonya tried to think of what to say about such a disaster.  She couldn’t fix the young Focus’s problems.  Only Transforms should have their hands on the money, until the Focus knew whom to trust.  Transforms should handle all significant household business, because only the Transforms were committed to the success of the household.  The normals always had other options.  She remembered the old joke about bacon and eggs for breakfast – the chicken is involved, the pig is committed.  The normals are involved, the Transforms are committed.

Not advice this touchy new Focus would want to listen to right now.

“I’m so sorry.”  She couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

Gail laughed a bitter laugh.  “We screwed up, and since I’m the Focus, I guess it’s ultimately on my shoulders that we screwed up.”

This Focus didn’t sound like a screw-up, though, just ignorant.

“Is anybody dead?” Tonya said, already sure she knew the answer.  She put a mental checkmark in her mind next to Lori, and her comment about an Arm in her household.  The more she butted heads with Lori, the more impressed she got.

“Well, no,” Gail said.  “Not yet.”

“Is anybody crazy?”

“Noooo.”  She snorted.  “Though I’d hate for me and my Focus attendants to get a psych evaluation.  We’ve had a few tough moments that, fifty years ago, would have gotten us locked away for hysteria.”

Tonya repressed a chuckle.  This one was a strong one.  How strong, though?  How hard had she been on her people?  How many did she have tied up all day, living off spoon-fed baby food?  “Well then you’re doing better than quite a few new Focuses.  Especially attempting to run a Focus household based on those ridiculous government pamphlets.  Deaths aren’t at all unknown in new Focus households.”

“You’re serious, Focus Biggioni?  People dying?”  Tonya could almost fill in the blanks – there are Focuses with that level of uncontrol?  Tonya smiled.  Gail’s was a comment she would have made, at a similar stage in her career.

“Absolutely serious.  Call me Tonya.”  The least she could do was offer her friendship to this touchy yet ignorant young Focus.  “You should hear some of the things that happened in the early years.  When you rip people loose from their existing lives and throw them all together into a new one, with no moorings to hold on to, you can get all sorts of strange things.  Did you ever read Lord of the Flies?”  Or talk to Focus Young of Denver, who Transformed five months ago and who believed in Transform natural selection with herself as ‘nature, red in tooth and claw’ to the tune of five dead Transforms so far?

“That’s a scary thought, Tonya,” Gail said, a lot friendlier than she had been a few minutes earlier.  “I guess there’s more room to screw up than I’d thought.”

“Being a lone Focus is tough.  Look, I’ll tell you what I can do.  I’m going to put you in touch with Beth Hargrove.  She’s another Focus in Detroit, she’s been a Focus for about five years, and she was nineteen when she transformed.  She’s a friendly, outgoing person, and I think you’ll like her.  I think you’ll find her a lot easier to deal with than Wini Adkins.  Does that sound acceptable?”

Tonya was only medium impressed with Beth Hargrove.  Beth would do better with a little more steel in her spine, but she was young, friendly and intelligent.  And any help this new Focus would take would be an improvement over her current situation.

“Do you think she’ll want to talk to some beginner juice jockey?”