....and now, back to PENGUIN$

****************************

The wreckage of the surrounding machinery provided enough shelter for the
small group to get a good look at their objective. Some distance away,
Winston Forrester sat in an old battered office chair and swiveled, spinning
round and round slowly.

"I don't get it," Anita said. "What the hell is he doing?"

"He's got nothing else to do, why not?" Christi shrugged. "He's in the same
boat as your purple rodents."

"Penguins, Morgret," Anita said through grated teeth.

"You've lost me, Christi," Valeria said. "What are WE doing here? I don't
see anybody around. Let's get this over with."

"No!" Anita said. "There's something not right here! I can feel it!"

"Score one point for Lady Death," Christi said. "I'd give you this quarter
as a prize but I need it for a little demonstration that shows exactly how
much shit we're swimming in. Observe."

Christi had removed a quarter from her belly bag. Taking careful aim, she
threw it out ahead of her. It flew through the air in a long graceful arc
and then vanished from sight. In its wake, circular ripples of blue light
began to emanate from the point at which it had disappeared. The quarter had
caused a disturbance similar to a stone being thrown into a pond. The
ripples continued outward, each circle growing larger and larger, continuing
across an invisible surface that spanned from ceiling to floor.

"Absolutely fascinating," Crowley breathed. "It seems to be a somewhat
different version of the force field that was surrounding Pisces. It looks
like it surrounds the entire machine."

"Golly, you people catch on quick," Christi said with fake brightness,
turning to them. "I agree. It looks a lot like the field that Pisces had
around him, but it sure as hell ain't. I tried shooting at it and throwing
larger things at it. Nothing bounces back like the bullet that killed the
ex-slave did. They just disappear."

"You saw that happen? You saw that man die?" Valeria asked softly.

"Saw it?" Christi snorted, "Val, I was standing less than ten feet away
behind some crates when it happened. Tossed my cookies."

"What happened to the quarter?" Anita asked.

"We could always send your zombie over to find out," Crowley mused.

"Shut up, Crowley!" Anita snapped.

"Asshole," Horton muttered in his eerie, guttural voice.

Forrester had sensed their presence and had pushed himself up from the
chair, heading towards where the group stood watching him.

"Careful, Winston," Christi said.

"Don't worry, darlin'," he replied. "I have a pretty good idea about where
the force field is." He rubbed his hands together and grinned sheepishly. "I
suppose y'all are wondering what the heck I'm doing in here."

"Fourteen minutes, Winston," Christi warned.

"Right." He nodded. "Um, well, it's a long story. But the short version is
this: I had an alternate plan, but when that, um, fell through, I wanted to
get a closer look at the machine to see what I could do to mess it up, and
just as Ms. Blake..."

"Ms. Blake? That's pretty formal for you, Winston." Christi raised an
eyebrow.

"Sorry darlin', but you saw what happened when she went ballistic. I learned
respect real fast."

Anita sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Just as I...what?" she prompted.

"Well, y'see, all hell broke loose and the glass around the penguin case
cracked and just fell away and shattered. One of the little buggers managed
to crawl out and started waddling like hell. Ran right into the force field
and disappeared. Zap! Didn't come back either. Freaked the other little guys
right out."

Anita was silent. Valeria put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Anita."

"Which one was it?" the animator asked softly.

"How the hell should I know?" Forrester replied, scratching his head. "Was a
real cute little guy too. Had a bow tie and everything."

"Oh God, Norman!" Anita choked out and turned away.

"We don't have time for this!" Crowley grated. "What are we going to do?"

"Well," Winston said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "There is one
thing I do know, because I overheard Pisces talking on his cellular phone to
someone just before the shooting started. He said that the force field was
up for now, but they can't run it, and the machine, at the same time. If he
powers this puppy up, the force field is coming down."

"That's our only chance?" Valeria rasped. "There's only one reason why he'll
power up the machine, and that's if he has someone to test it on."

"Then we're going to have to give him someone," Anita said quietly before
turning back to face them, her eyes red.

"Nice knowing you, Horton," Crowley sneered.

"I was talking about us, Mr. Crowley," Anita said, one hand instinctively
restraining her zombie from jumping at the elderly man. "Pisces obviously
doesn't know about Christi or Forrester. He does, however, want us back."

"Back?" Valeria almost shouted. "Anita, have you gone crazy? He wants us
dead!"

"Think about it," Anita insisted. "He's got an ego the size of Texas. He
wants to prove himself to the Empress. There's only one way to do that. He's
going to make his machine work on the very people who'd rather die then be a
part of his damn new world order."

"No offense, Anita," Valeria sighed. "But I kind of like the way I'm screwed
up in the head. I've grown accustomed to my neurosis in my old age. I don't
want to change that. It's so me."

"Pardon me for interrupting again, ladies," Crowley interjected. "But,
Anita, by any chance have your powers had a sufficient enough time
to recharge?"

Anita gave that serious thought. "Not enough to finish what I started
earlier," she finally concluded. "But I am pissed off enough that I may be
able to pull a few tricks out of my hat. I have a score to settle with
Pisces. His stupid games have finally lead to the death of one of my
penguins. He's mine gang. I'm going to make him hurt for a very long time
before I kill him."

"Okay," Valeria said mildly, in total agreement. "You do that."

Anita nodded slowly. "My plan makes sense. It'll also stop this fighting and
save a lot of human lives."

"I hate to be a party pooper," Christi said, "but will the machine even
start up without the penguins?"

"I'm going out on a limb here," Crowley said, "But I do have a passing
acquaintance with technology, and it's the power of their mind control that
Pisces wants. He'll have to boot the machine up first, so to speak. It's my
guess that the force field will come down during that sequence and our two
friends here can make their attempt to free the penguins then."

"And what happens when the machine doesn't work?" Valeria asked.

"Then there's only one way to do this," Anita said. "We hit them with a full out,
no holds barred assault. Just shoot our way out of there and try to get as
many humans to follow us as possible."

"Your plan is still full of damn holes!" Forrester shouted. "What then? Call
the police? Call the army? I thought we started out this whole thing with
the objective of saving the city!"

"Ten minutes guys," Christi said, staring at the bomb.

They all fell silent. The bomb had been forgotten in the argument.

"Isn't there anything you can do to shut off the timer?" Valeria asked. "No
red or blue wire we can cut?"

Forrester shook his head. "I dunno. I got the instructions for how to build
it off the internet. There's only one other thing we can do with it at this
point and that is to push that red button there."

"This one, Winston?" Christi asked, pointing at the small instrument panel.
"What happens when you do that?"

"Well," Forrester looked sheepish. "Pushing that button and holding it down
while making a few good threats had been my plan all along. Y'see, it cuts
off the timer and immediately arms the bomb."

"And then what?" Christi looked suspicious.

"Then, if someone should want to, for example, blow up an entire penthouse
full of penguins and a mind control machine, all they would have to do would
be to take their finger off the button."

"Instant boom?" Christi asked weakly.

"Yep. Big time instant boom." Forrester nodded.

"That's suicide, Winston," Christi said softly. "You were really going to do
it?"

Forrester avoided her eyes. "Yeah, Darlin'. I was."

Christi wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him. "But why?"

This time he met her eyes. "How many different ways do I have to say this? I
love you, girl. I knew it from the moment you gave me hell back at the
factory." He smiled. "God, you were beautiful. You totally messed me up.
There comes a time in a man's life when he looks at a woman and he knows...
just knows. Most of us can't explain it, but she's the only thing that
matters after that. I never thought that it would ever happen to me, but it
did. Right there in that room; and me sitting there in a dress." He started
to laugh.

Christi's weak smile turned into a giggle. Something inside her flopped
over. She suspected it was her heart.

"Then why kill yourself Winston? What was that all about?"

"Christi," he said after a lengthy silent, his voice thick with emotion.
"I've screwed up everything I've ever tried to do in my life. I don't know
what it is about me, but I'm 40 years old and I don't think I'm ever gonna
change. I knew that even if miracles happened and you did decide that you
wanted me, I'd mess up your life. I couldn't live like that, girl. If we
stuck together, I'd make us both miserable. But if I had to end up living
without you I'd be no more than that zombie over there. You were the only
thing I could see that would make my life worth living, and I love you too
much to use you up to do it. I guess I just didn't want to be around any
more. You were so mad and disgusted with me all the time. I just didn't want
to see what came afterwards."

"Winston," Christi breathed. The rest of the small group stood around
uncomfortably and tried to find somewhere else to look.

"Ah hell, give me the damn bomb," the Zombie suddenly said.

Everyone looked up.

"Gerrard?" Anita asked.

The zombie looked at Christi and Forrester.

"I want to do this now before my mind starts to fall apart," he said. "I'm
not Gerrard Horton. He's gone. I'm his body. The thing he left behind." He
turned to Anita, "But even so, thanks to your damn power, this decayed piece
of wetware in my head has enough juice in it to allow me to be aware of what
I am, and that means I'll know it when you put me in the ground. I can't do
it."

"But it won't be like that," Anita said quietly. "You'll have to trust me."

"Bullshit!" The zombie roared. "Give me the damn bomb! It'll be all the
leverage you need once the penguins are gone. If I'm going to put this piece
of meat that's me to bed I'm gonna do it my way!"

Anita blinked. Her own wetware was running the survival statistics and
finding that she liked them.

"Okay," she said finally. The four humans standing nearby gave a perfectly
synchronized sigh of relief.

Christi hunkered down beside the bomb on the floor and held open the cotton
bag so that the zombie could reach inside.

Forrester watched until Horton had wrapped his arms around the thing, his
right thumb poised over the red button.

"Okay, do it," Forrester said. "You'll feel and hear a slight click."

The zombie closed his eyes and slowly brought his thumb down on the button.

The clock, with four minutes still remaining on it, blinked to zero.

"Okay," Forrester said after a moment during which everyone had held their
breath. "We're in business."

"Good," Anita said, nodding. "Here's the plan."

******************************************

In the stillness of his office one floor below the battle ravaged penthouse,
Byron Pisces sat slumped forward in the chair behind his sleek black marble
and glass desk, his head down, his forehead resting on the cool reflective
surface.

On the other side of the large window behind him daylight had begun to chase
away the last vestiges of darkness, leaving the city below bathed in filthy
gray light. Seeing it that way made him feel powerless and robbed of energy.
With a frustrated sigh he pushed himself away from the desk, walked to the
window and slowly pulled the heavy black curtains closed, banishing the city
from his sight.

Pisces sat in the darkness and tried to convince himself that the Empress's
penguins would either kill or manage to contain Anita Blake and the
rampaging human slaves. They would run a successful test of the machine on
the survivors and then, at the appointed time later that morning, the city
of Toronto would become the birth place of the brave new world. The Empress
would realize that he was a scientist, not a military leader, and then
forgive him all his other failures.

It was going to be okay. It had to be.

A loud click, followed by a humming sound pulled him from his reverie. He
glanced over at his computer in time to see it run through its boot up
sequence, numbers flashing by at a dizzying rate.

The main power had been restored.

Sudden excitement gripped him. If he could make it through the fighting to
the main controls of the machine he could initiate the emergency boot up
sequence of the machine and end the battle for good. It was risky; the
machine was untested and he had no idea how it would react to being forced
into service that quickly, but he had no choice.

Inside the inner pocket of his jacket his cellular phone trilled, startling
him. He pulled the phone out and placed it to his ear.

"Speak," he ordered.

"Dr. Pisces?" Said a familiar voice. "This is Sebastian Crowley."

Pisces' handsome features became a mask of confusion. "Mr. Crowley," he said
finally after a short pause. "How did you get this number?"

"Your business card, my dear boy," the cultured voice replied with a soft
laugh. "You might recall that we met briefly at some business function
months ago."

"Vaguely," Pisces said bitterly. "Those of us that haven't attained your
level of genius may not have the same memory capacity you do. Exactly to
what do I owe the honor of this call?"

"Now, now Dr. Pisces. The sarcasm is unnecessary. I've called to offer you
my hand in peace. I've been very wrong in my assumptions about you. You must
understand."

Pisces raised an eyebrow. "Understand, Sebastian?"

"Yes," Crowley continued. "I was wrong to not see the obvious mark of genius
in your design. Your device is a marvel of engineering. I've given it a lot
of thought and I want to join you in your endeavor to realign the minds of
humanity. You are correct; as a species, we are flawed." The entrepreneur
sighed. "I'm an old man, Byron. It wasn't easy for me to admit to myself
that a young buck like you could out-think me. I've come to my senses now
and place myself humbly at your feet."

"This is a rather dramatic change of opinion, Crowley," Pisces said.
"Exactly what kind of a fool do you take me for?

"Not any kind of fool at all, my dear boy. How very astute of you. I think a
demonstration of my new found loyalty is in order, don't you think?"

Pisces narrowed his eyes. "Exactly what did you have in mind Sebastian?"

"I have with me two charming young ladies one of which, I understand, you
have been quite ardent in your desire to see again after your last meeting.
Though it took some doing on my part I am now in a position to fulfill that
desire."

"You have Anita Blake restrained?" Pisces breathed into the phone. "How did
you manage that, old man?"

"I assure you it wasn't easy," Crowley replied calmly. "But we don't have
time to discuss the particulars. Or rather YOU don't. The Empress has been
kept waiting long enough, don't you think?"

Pisces bit his lip, forced to agree. "Where are you?" He finally said.

"Not until I have your assurance that I won't be killed by your penguins the
moment I step out into plain sight. I have a weapon pointed at Miss Blake's
head, Doctor, and Miss Orbus is not in any condition to provide a fight. The
ladies are mine, Byron. They misjudged an old man. Say the wrong word and
I'll kill them both and you lose your chance to gain back your favor with
the Empress. Say the right one and they will be yours."

"This kind of talk does not inspire faith, Mr. Crowley."

"I agree, the situation is unique," Crowley replied.

Pisces sighed. He closed his eyes momentarily and then opened them again.
"All right Crowley," he said finally. "You have your wish. My penguins will
not attack you."

"Excellent," Crowley replied. "The ladies and I are in the small alcove near
the penguin case."

Pisces reached behind him to the control panel in his desk and three slender
monitors flared to life beneath the surface of the glass. The images were
being transmitted from security cameras that tirelessly scanned the
penthouse. After flicking from camera to camera he finally spotted Crowley
and the two women.

"I see you. You will be met," he said simply, and broke the connection with
Crowley.

He slipped the phone back into his jacket and sat quietly for a moment,
bathed in the flickering glow of the monitors. He told himself he was
smarter than Sebastian Crowley, and that whatever the old man had up his
sleeves could be dealt with. It was time to meet his destiny.

He stood and left the office with determined, purposeful strides.

Continued in  Issue 15  of PENGUIN$...

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