Green Eyes Page 0,24

playin' with your throttle. Whoo! Sex and death and sound effects!'

Audrey and Jocundra were sitting on a bench about thirty feet from where they were lying, and Donnell concentrated on Jocundra. He lowered his head, looked up at her through his brows, and brought her aura into focus: an insubstantial shawl of blue light, frail as the thinnest of mists, glimmering with pinpricks of ruby and gold and emerald-green.

'Takes a commitment, though,' said Richmond soberly. 'If you gonna ride with the 'hounds, you gotta kill a cop.'

'You killed a cop?' Donnell was surprised to learn that Richmond was capable of mortal violence; he had sensed an underlying innocence, a playfulness, and had assumed most of the bloody tales to be lies or exaggeration.

'Naw, I was just runnin' probate, but the day's gonna come, man.' Richmond plucked a handful of grass and tossed it up into the breeze, watched it drift. 'My ol' lady says I ain't got what it takes to be a one-percenter, but what the hell's she know? She works in a goddamn massage parlor, punchin' oV farts' hornbuttons for fifty bucks a pop. That don't make her no damn expert on my potential!'

Donnell let the aura fade and studied Jocundra. He constantly was finding new features to examine - a nuance of expression, the glide of a muscle - and it was beginning to frustrate him to the point of physical discomfort. Through an unbuttoned fold of her blouse he saw the curve of her breast molded into a swell of beige silk, and he imagined it was as near to him as it appeared, warm and perfumed, a soft weight nudging his cheek. He suspected she was aware of his frustrated desire, and he did not think she was put off by the fact he wanted her.

Wheels crunched on the flagstones, footsteps, and Magnusson rolled up, his therapist beside him. 'Go have a talk with your friends, Laura,' he said. She started to object, then tossed her head in exasperation and stalked off.

'Fine ass,' said Richmond. 'But no tits. Ain't none of 'em got tits like ol' Audrey.'

'Gentlemen!' Magnusson's lips pursed spasmodically as if he were trying to kiss his nose. 'I've given up attempting to enlist your support, but I've made a decision of which you should be aware.' He glared at them, squeezing the arms of his chair: a feeble old king judging his unworthy subjects. 'May the third, gentlemen. I want you to mark that date.'

'Why's that, Doc?' asked Richmond. 'You havin' a party?'

'In a manner of speaking, yes. Mr Harrison! I'm determined you'll listen to me this time.'

Donnell avoided the old man's eyes. His nervous reaction was becoming more pronounced, and as often happened around Magnusson, his vision was playing tricks, shifting involuntarily.

'As I told you last week, it's obvious to me that the life span of the bacteria within the host should be on the order of a day or thereabouts. No more. Well, I believe I've deduced the reason for our longevity, though to be sure I'd have to take a look inside an infested brain.'

Richmond's back humped with silent laughter.

'Your brain would do nicely, Mr Richmond. Dissection may well prove its optimal employment.' Magnusson cackled. 'Initially, they wouldn't give me brain data. Said all the patients had recovered, and there was no such data. But I succeeded in convincing Brauer to assist me. Surely, I said, there must have been early failures, animal experiments. If I could see those files, I told him, no telling what insights they might elicit.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Donnell saw Magnusson embedded in a veil of red light, an aural color so deep that the old man's head showed as featureless and distorted as the darkness at the heart of a flawed ruby.

'There's too much data to relate it all,' said Magnusson, 'so let me take a tuck in my argument. Each of us has experienced perceptual abnormalities, abilities the uninformed would categorize as "psychic." It's clear that some feature of our brain allied with these abilities is retarding the bacterial process. Three of the case studies Brauer loaned me revealed extensive infestation of the dopamine and no repenephrine systems. I didn't dare ask him about them, but I believe they were like us, and that the seat of the retarding factor, and therefore of "psychic" potential...'

'Doc, you borin' the shit outta me!' Richmond stood, only a little awkwardly, and Donnell envied his ease of mobility.

'You won't have to put up