Jokers Wild Page 0,17
For weeks the whispers had haunted her; creeping about the corners of the office partitions, echoing in the washrooms, leaving a tangible mark on every face. Poor thing... husband is divorcing her... Is it true?... she had... a monster?
Several of her pregnant friends dropped her as if her very presence could mutate their child, and the fear was not helped by a disquieting rumor out of the CDC that two anomalous cases of the wild card virus had arisen that could only be explained if the disease was in fact contagious. Frank had been kind that day when he called her into his office, but very firm. Her presence in the office was affecting worker morale and productivity. And didn't she really need some time alone to come to grips with What Had Happened To Her? So why not take a little time?
Weeks later, money running low, and her spirits just as low, she found Sully Thornton at her door. He was a pathetic little toady who continually brayed about being one of Josiah's "business associates." Roulette had never particularly noticed him doing any business when he had been present at Smallwoods. Instead he had concentrated on lapping up all the free booze he could hold, and trying to press soggy drunken kisses on her whenever he caught her alone. She had slapped him once, and after a neighing titter that set his prominent Adam's apple to bobbing, he had boozily explained that he was just "emulatin' old grandpa Thornton, with his fascination for dusky women. Just runs in the blood." Yeah, she'd thought sourl like whuppin' on the boys, and fuckin' the mammies. Just comes natural.
Sully had mouthed something about wanting to look h up because Josiah had treated her so bad, and could he buy h dinner, and he'd heard she'd lost her job, and did she need "little loan?" She didn't miss the meaning, and despite her r vulsion with the man she accepted. Being broke ruins a per son's standards.
Late that night, as he'd lain groaning and panting ato her, she had remembered the bone-cracking release as he baby was born, and raised herself up on her elbows, and had seen ... No! Then had come a release of another kind, and Sully had died.
Her eaters of the soul had begun to torment her withi hours of Sully's death. And if Judas had not found her perhap she would have ceased to deal in death. But the Astronomer' acehound did find her, and took her to the Cloisters, and th Astronomer had spoken to her hidden places, nurturing he festering hate, promising that she would have her final re venge, and that when the last kill was made he would give he peace-remove forever the memory of her child.
The Astronomer had used her sparingly, eager to keep he secret and very effective And she was effective. Today marked the third kill she had made for her awful master, and each time it was worse. She gulped down some of the Sunshine Cafe' enamel-stripping coffee, trying to wash away the sick taste o death that lay on her tongue.
This time he would know. He would sense her guilt an doubt, and react, and she was scared to disappoint- No. She was just scared. Terrified of him. Of his powers. Of his ob sessive drive to destroy. First TIAMAT Now those who had denied him his ultimate victory.
What if she just never went back?
No, without him there could be no final catharsis, no final release from the memory of monsters. He could have all the rest, but Tachyon was hers. The alien had destroyed her life.
She would repay him by destroying his. That was her obsession, and it had wedded her to the Astronomer in an unholy union of hate and vengeance, and it was far stronger a bond than love.
"Lady, I don't rent tables by the hour," growled the proprietor of the Sunshine Cafe, who was living proof that the 'generators of cheerful advertising' were under no obligation to follow it.
She tossed money onto the table, and decided to be grateful for the interruption rather than irritated. Her greasy-spoon haven had been removed. She had to go.
To face him.
Normally Hiram liked to ride through the city streets, to watch the ebb and flow of the human drama on the sidewalks of Manhattan through the frosted-glass windows of his Bentley, while his driver worried about gridlock and kamikaze cabs. But today Jokertown and surrounding neighborhoods would be chaos,