White Noise 5

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I. Thursday, 8:45 a.m.

“Kenneth, can you talk now?”

“Yes, Director, I’m in my office.”

“I just received your cousin’s report. It appears that the new version of the drug is achieving the results we want. I’ve arranged for a copy of the report to be hand-delivered to you. I don’t want to trust it to email. The details are . . . rather grisly. I will spare you a recital of them. If you are interested in what your cousin did, he provides a full inventory of what he calls his ‘experimental protocol’ and ‘research results.’ Essentially your cousin murdered both young men slowly and painfully. Yet neither resisted. The tape we have of the second murder confirms this. Your cousin claims that both boys enjoyed dying. I suspect he’s projecting, and it’s more a matter of his enjoying killing them.”

“Scott doesn’t even have the latest version. We have tweaked the drug a bit. Preliminary results show it to be even stronger and to work even more quickly. We are testing it now on the subjects from the military prison at Fort Miller to see what the minimum dosage for conversion is.”

“According to your cousin’s report, the first test subject had received all of the recommended dosages specified in your instructions. The second subject, however, had ingested the drug only three times. The first time was almost a month before the second. As I understand its effects, that initial dosage would have worn off within a day or so. The second and third doses were administered about a half-hour apart and about two hours before your cousin began his tests. The effects were the same as the full regimen of doses. This has quite interesting implications, don’t you agree? The military uses alone are quite promising. Troops could be sent into battle after received only a small amount of the drug.”

“The drug promises to be so cheap that, once we enter full production, we will be able to convert the military fully. They would be ready for combat at any time. I think the civilian uses will be even more spectacular.”

“My colleagues in the military branches will be interested to learn of these results.”

“Is it necessary that we inform them, Director? Perhaps the upper echelons of the military should receive the drug first, the better to lead their subordinates.”

“You are becoming more ambitious in your plans, Kenneth.”

“Yes, Director. I will tell you of them soon. Now, what do you have to report about the surveillance of my cousin and the police investigation of the murders?”

“We have your cousin under constant surveillance. When he is in his condo or the warehouse, we have full camera coverage of him. We follow him whenever he is moving. The offices of the homicide department are fully bugged. We can hear everything that is said there. We use directional mikes to pick up conversations elsewhere in the building, although there our coverage is not complete. We have placed tracking devices and bugs on the cars of all the principal investigators, and we will shortly have enough manpower to shadow this Inspector Dell’uomo and this two chief assistants, Trent and Samuels. We have all the paperwork ready to take over the case on the grounds of national security. If necessary, we could shut down the investigation within about five minutes, Kenneth. An animal research facility with attached living quarters has been prepared for your cousin. It is well guarded, and he can be held incommunicado while he continues his experiments. No one will know where he is. He will be quite comfortable, and we will be able to supervise his experiments. We will also be able to ensure him an adequate supply of subjects. He really cannot be allowed to continue to choose his own test subjects on a whim. It is endangering the secrecy of the project.”

“Excellent, Director. Really excellent. I am quite happy with your work. You may give yourself 15 minutes of pleasure now and an hour this evening, Director.”

“Oh, thank you, Kenneth. Thank you. That is most generous.”

II. Thursday, 9:15 a.m.

“It appears, then, that Kenneth Foster has been lying to us.”

“Yes, Captain.” Dell’uomo, Trent, and Samuels were meeting again with Captain Jillson and Jessica Lange to discuss the Spier’s case. “The fact that he lied about his connections with Senator Foster and his family makes all the information he supplied us suspect.”

“We can’t trust anything he’s told us. Not even the claim that that white noise machine was sold in San Diego.”

“But what is he up to? Do you suspect Kenneth Foster of being implicated in David Spier’s murder?”

“Perhaps not in the sense of participating in the actual killing. But definitely somewhere in the background.”

“We need to talk with Kenneth Foster again, Matt.”

“Captain, I don’t feel that I am the right person to do it. I was totally taken in by him in all our discussions. He’s very persuasive. He needs a fresh look. I think it would be better if Samuels and Trent spoke with him. I am building up a . . . rapport with Jeff Ange and Michael Sorenson. I think I would be better employed talking with them, especially Sorenson. I get the feeling that he is ready to unburden himself about something that is bothering him. And, Captain, I think it’s time to talk with Scott Foster.”

“Jessica, what do you think?”

“Well, he’s definitely weird. But that’s no reason to suspect him of murder, especially this murder. Give us something more to go on, Matt, and I’ll be the first to question him. But at this point, all we have to link him to the Spier case is a drawing produced under hypnosis, some gossip from Smith, and Sorenson’s testimony that years ago he was beaten while Foster watched. None of this is evidence or relevant to this particular case. It gives us reason to suspect Foster, but our suspicions aren’t proof. As for Sandman Enterprises, clearly something is going on there. But is it illegal? Again, we have no proof. Things we don’t understand aren’t evidence. At most, they’re cause for suspicion. It is not illegal to receive a government contract. It is not illegal to sell white noise machines. It is not illegal to hypnotize people. I would suggest that Trent and Samuels talk with Kenneth Foster and confront him with the fact that he has been lying about his connections with Senator Foster. Matt should talk with Sorenson and his boyfriend again to see if he can find out more. I’d like to interview the Albertson kid and see if he can supply anything that would be admissible evidence. But are we ready to confront Scott Foster with what we have? Wouldn’t any contact set off alarm bells in him?”

“What if he is the killer, Jessica? Do we risk having him kill someone else?”

“Don’t lay a guilt trip on me, Matt. I’m well aware of the possible consequences. Why don’t we put him under surveillance? Trail him when he goes out at night and find where he goes?”

“Can we get an authorization for the manpower to have him trailed, Sir? By all reports, he seldom leaves the River Towers before night. We probably could get by with just one man during the day, and two at night. Robert has been working with the security guards at the River Towers, and they appear willing to cooperate with us. They know when the elevator to the penthouse is used. We could arrange for them to phone our watchers when Foster leaves his unit. We already know that he takes cabs. We could try to get one of our guys in position to pick him up. Or we could watch who does pick him up, get the license number, and then find out from the cabbie where he dropped him off.”

“That might help us find where he spends his nights.”

“There’s one other thing that interests me in all of this.”

“What’s that, Jessica?”

“There are four Sandman enterprises. One deals with the commercial end—the shop, the online business, the wholesale business. Another is for these seminars that Foster gives. The third invests the money the businesses earn. But the fourth is an employment agency. The first three are related. Those I can understand. But what has an employment agency got to do with the other businesses? According to the prospectus filed with the Business License Office, it is set up to ‘supply highly trained personal assistants.’ What has that got to do with hypnosis and self-help seminars? Did this business have an office at Canal Street, Matt?”

“The directory in the lobby listed only Sandman Enterprises. Foster must run all four businesses out of that office of his. Just because a business has registered with the state doesn’t mean it’s prosperous or even active. The building is almost empty. I didn’t get the impression that this is a bustling, prosperous operation, Jessica. It looks like a small business in a run-down building. More hope than performance.”

“A small operation with a decent sized government contract, which may or may not be a black operation for some spy agency. He has to be doing something for that contract to be renewed for three years running. In terms of the total federal budget, it may not be a lot of money. But even the government doesn’t throw money like that about. I’m just saying it’s curious, Matt. Something else to look into. Even if Sandman has no connection with the Spier murder, something is going wrong there that we need to investigate. Perhaps not homicide, but the fraud guys.”

“Ok, people, I think we’ve gone about as far as we can with what we have. Susan and Robert, you interview Kenneth Foster. Matt, arrange for the Albertson kid to come in and have an interview with Jessica, and then talk with Sorenson and Ange again. Let’s find out where Scott Foster goes at night—I’ll arrange for surveillance outside the River Towers and for one of guys to impersonate a cabbie. Maybe we’ll get lucky. The guy could be a big tipper, and the night squad can order pizza. If Foster gets in another cab, we’ll find out where he goes. Any positive evidence, and we’ll move on Scott Foster.”

III. Thursday, 10:45 a.m.

“Yes, Director?”

“Kenneth, we picked up a conversation at police headquarters between someone we believe to be Officer Susan Trent and an unidentified male. They were making plans to visit a ‘Foster’ this afternoon. The male had to make an appearance in court at 11:00 to testify in a case. We are checking the court rosters now to see if we can identify him. We know the male is not Dell’uomo because he was talking on the phone at the time. So you may receive another visit from the police this afternoon. Or they may be about to visit your cousin in the River Towers. It was not clear from the conversation. We will give you as much warning as we can of their arrival. But what should we do if they are visiting your cousin? He’s hardly sane at this point, and he could easily reveal everything. He seems to find nothing abnormal about what he is doing.”

“Thank you, Director. I have prepared my cousin to deal with the police. His behavior will give them no grounds for suspicion, and he will reveal nothing. I will call him and trigger his defenses, just to be sure. It’s a pity that Dell’uomo is not the male office who is coming to interview me. I could handle him easily. I have met Officer Trent. I have no doubt that I will be able to deal with her and her colleague’s questions, Director. Let me know as soon as you can when they leave and where they are headed.”

* * *

“Scott? This is your Uncle Kenneth. How is my favorite nephew.”

“Uncle Ken, I’ve been hoping you would call.”

“I’ve just received your latest report. This is excellent work, Scott”

“I thought you would like it, Uncle Ken. The drug worked perfectly.”

“No resistance at all?”

“None, Uncle. They were willing participants. And the pets had no reaction to the scene. It did get rather . . . messy, but they just helped me carry on the testing procedures. The implications of this are so promising, Uncle. I have been making plans for further tests. I’d like to share them with you and get your feedback.”

“We must meet soon, Scott. Now there is one thing I need to talk with you about. You remember our discussions about how you should act and what you should say if the police ever question you?”

“Oh, yes, Uncle Kenneth. I would not forget those.”

“Good, Scott. Now listen carefully. If the police question you, you are to activate your self-protection program. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Uncle Kenneth.”

“Good. Now what are you going to do if the police question you?”

“Activate my self-protection program.”

“Excellent, Scott. I am so proud of you. You are doing such good work, and your experiments are very important to my researches.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, Uncle. I enjoy this work so much. It’s so rewarding and fulfilling.”

IV. Thursday, 11:30 a.m.

“He’s not there, Matt.”

“Who?”

“The Albertson kid. He hasn’t been seen for days. The last time anyone saw him was on Monday evening. He had a pizza party in his room at the City University dorm. We spoke to several of his neighbors in the dorm. As near as everyone there can remember, the party broke up about 10. Most of the people there were tired and fell asleep soon after the party ended. No one has seen him since then. As far as anyone can recall, he has been to any of his classes.”

“Did you check his room?”

“The dorm manager let me look into it. It was cleaned on Tuesday. Looks like a typical student’s room. Small, cluttered. Nothing suspicious.”

“Find out his family’s phone number and see if they have heard from him. He can’t just have disappeared into thin air.”

V. Thursday, 1:30 p.m.

“Is this the right address, Susan?”

“Yes, 1010 Canal Street. Hardly the headquarters of thriving corporation, is it? At least it’s easy to find parking in this area. There’s a place right across the street.”

“Susan, what other offices did Matt say were in the building?”

“I don’t recall all of them. Just small businesses, mostly. Didn’t he say the upper floors were empty? Why?”

“Those two guys that just came out of the building.”

“The pair in the identical outfits?”

“Yes, they look like twins.”

“Yes. So?”

“They’re very young looking. I just wondered what sort of business they would have here.”

“It looks like they’re off to the gym. The way they’re dressed and the gym bags and all.”

“They just seem out of place here. Maybe these are the two of the highly trained personal assistants Jessica was wondering about.”

“Don’t you think they are rather young to be personal assistants?”

“That would depend on the type of assistance they are being trained to render.”

“Oh. Gotcha.”

“Let’s see if we can find out where they are headed. I wonder if there is a patrol in the area.”

“We can only hope.” Susan Trent triggered the switch on the police radio. “Dispatch? This is Officer Susan Trent, Homicide, Badge no. 5460. I’m outside 1010 Canal Street. Do we have a patrol in this area?”

“One moment, Officer Trent. I’m calling the information up on my screen right now. We have one foot patrolman on Army Street, last report from three blocks east of Canal Street. There is a patrol car, on Tenth, about five blocks from you.”

“We have two males, age 20 or so, they appear to be identical twins. Both wearing red athletic-style shorts, dark blue wind cheaters, baseball caps, dark glasses, white tennis shoes, no socks. Now walking south on Canal Street toward Tenth. If possible, please have them followed and see where they go. No intercept. I just want to know where they go.”

“Understood, Officer Trent.”

“I’ll be out of radio and phone contact for the next hour or so. Please have the patrolman phone the report to homicide and leave a message for me.”

* * *

From a third-floor window, Kenneth Foster watched the police car pull up and park opposite the entrance to 1010 Canal Street. Luckily he had had enough warning to send the twins away and prepare his second office. The officers seemed to be taking their time getting out of the car. Probably discussing tactics. He opened a drawer and stuck an small aerosol spray in his pocket. It would be better not to use the drug on the police at this point, but just in case all else failed, it was a backup. Best to be prepared for all contingencies. Would they try the good-cop, bad-cop routine? Television and the movies had made that so familiar it would hardly work any more. It should be an interesting interview. He was quite looking forward to it. Ah, they were getting out of the car now. He must prepare the welcoming scene for them.

* * *

“Officer Trent, please come in. Pardon the mess. I working on some budgets.”

“This is my colleague, Robert Samuels. We’re sorry to intrude, but we had a few more follow-up questions.”

“Officer Samuels, pleased to meet you. Well, that may be inappropriate under the circumstances. I hope there hasn’t been another murder.”

“No, nothing like that, Mr. Foster. We just are tying up a few loose ends.”

“Of course, officers. I would be glad to help in any way I can. Oh, let me just clean off that chair. In my case, work tends to expand the space available to it. Let me get another chair. Oh, thank you, Officer Samuels. Sorry, it’s a bit crowded in this office. It isn’t really meant for meetings.”

“Where do you hold meetings?”

“My business isn’t of the nature that many meetings are necessary. We do our order processing in the backroom of the store—that’s the one you visited earlier, Officer Trent. The orders are sent online to our warehouse, which is across the river. The goods are shipped from there. The warehouse serves many small companies, such as mine. We don’t ever have to visit them. It’s simply a matter of communicating with them by email or by phone occasionally. Our accounting is done by a man who works out of a spare bedroom in his apartment. Computers have made it so much easier to decentralize operations. This is really just a small operation. Myself and two full-time employees and then several free-lancers under contract.”

“You outsource a lot of your operations, then?”

“Yes, Officer Roberts. We really couldn’t survive if we had to support a large staff.”

“But your business must be prospering. You live in Westhaven, I believe.”

“You have done your homework.”

“Surely you have seen enough television shows about police work to realize that we check into the background of everyone involved in a case, no matter how peripheral to the investigation they are.”

“So life imitates fiction.”

“Very often, Mr. Foster.”

“And what can I help you with today, Officers?”

“We are trying to track down this white noise machine that was found in the murdered boy’s room. You told Inspector Dell’uomo and Officer Trent earlier that the series was discontinued in June 1997.”

“Yes, that is correct. We would have sold the last of them before we began selling the new model. I don’t have my records handy, but the last of them would have been sold within two or three months.”

“And the unit in question was sold to this Inner Journeys shop in San Diego in 1997?”

“Yes, that is what my records show.”

“I spoke with the proprietor of that shop earlier today, Mr. Foster. He did not open for business until February 1999.”

“If you spoke with him, then you realize that he is often confused about things. I suspect that he uses drugs frequently and heavily. He is often irrational.”

“He seemed quite rational. And he has remained in business for several years now. That takes some skill. We also checked his memory against the California State Business Licensing Bureau’s records. It seems he is correct. The business began in 1999.”

“I really have no explanation for the discrepancy, Officer. I will check my records again. Perhaps I was too hasty the first time.”

“There is one other matter, Mr. Foster.”

“What is that, Officer Trent?”

“You told Inspector Dell’uomo that you have had very little contact with Senator Foster’s branch of your family.”

“ ‘Little’ is a relative term, Officer.”

“That it is, but both you and the senator attended Chesterfield at the same time. We understand that you were quite close. You were almost a foster parent to his son Scott for several years. Foster Enterprises lent you a substantial sum of money. You have a sizable government contract. There is a suggestion that Senator Foster may have played a role in the awarding of that contract to you. ‘Little’ would seem an inadequate characterization of the relationship, don’t you agree?”

“And may I ask what the police interest in these matters is?”

“As I said, we are tying down loose ends. This is a murder investigation. A young man was brutally murdered. A witness described a man for a police artist, and several people, including yourself, identified the drawing as a picture of your relative Scott Foster. You have stated to Inspector Dell’uomo that there has been almost no contact between yourself and the Senator’s family. Yet we have found evidence of substantial contact. It is a loose end. We do not like loose ends. Nor do we like it when we find evidence that someone has been less than truthful to us. We begin to wonder why.”

“Are you accusing me of lying to Inspector Dell’uomo, Officer?”

“Would you say that all your statements to the police have been truthful, Mr. Foster?”

“I do not see that my personal affairs are any concern of the police.”

“Oh, but they are. We are becoming very interested.”

“Perhaps I should call my lawyer.”

“That is up to you, Mr. Foster. I’m sure your lawyer will advise you that truthfulness is the best policy in answering our questions.”

“Most lawyers advise silence, Officer Samuels.”

“That is true.”

“In any case, I will not answer further questions before seeking advice of counsel, Officers.”

“That is your right, Mr. Foster. We will call you later to arrange a more extensive interview at police headquarters.”

“At headquarters?”

“Yes, that is our right, Mr. Foster. As a good citizen, you are obliged to assist the police in their inquiries.”

VI. Thursday, 1:30 p.m.

“Michael, I need to talk with you.”

“Of course, Matt. Any time.”

“Michael, I need to talk with you as a policeman.”

“Yes, Matt, it’s about time I was straight with you.”

“Well, you don’t have to be straight. Just tell me what you know about Kenneth Foster’s business.”

“Can I hold your hand? It will be easier for me if I can touch you.”

“Michael, last night . . . last night was wonderful. I hope it happens again. I really hope it happens again. But, caro, a boy was badly abused and then murdered. It’s my case, and I have to find the guy who did it and stop him from doing it again. Everything we have found out so far points to your boss being involved in this. He’s not the murderer, but he and the murderer are cooperating in something, and that something has spilled over into murder. Now, last night, you said that Jeff was involved with some evil people. I promised you that I would protect Jeff. And I will if I can, but you’ve got to help me, Michael.”

“Sandman takes submissive people who are susceptible to hypnosis and turns them into slaves and then sells them.”

“Sells them?”

“Yes, Kenneth uses hypnosis to condition them to be obedient, subservient slaves, and then he sells them to people. They call them ‘units.’ I was one. In some ways, I still am one. John Smith purchased me from Kenneth Smith. Right now, Kenneth is training a pair of identical twins. They’re almost ready to be sold. He’s also working on another project—one that is earning him a lot of money. But I don’t know what it is. I just handle the money that comes through.”

“We know about that. It’s some sort of government project.”

“Yes, the checks come from the government.”

“What role do you and Jeff play in all of this?”

“Jeff’s a unit. Kenneth has been training him for years. Jeff doesn’t think he’s a unit, but he is. He does everything that Kenneth tells him to. But Kenneth isn’t interested in Jeff sexually, and after I ended up in the hospital, Kenneth made Jeff fall in love with me. I’m supposed to keep Jeff satisfied. Kenneth can still control me when he wants. But he’s forgotten about us. He thinks Jeff and I are so obedient that we don’t need to be reconditioned. I have begun to escape from him, and I’m trying to help Jeff.”

“Tell me everything you know about this.”

And so Michael told Matt everything he knew.

“This is unbelievable.”

“Matt, you’ve got to believe me. Kenneth is . . . .”

“I think he hypnotized me. I visited him in office at Canal Street, and he showed me some machine. The next thing I know he’s ordering me to jump out an open window. I woke up from the trance, or whatever it was, at that point. He said he was trying to demonstrate to me that no one could be forced to do something under hypnosis.”

“Matt, you’re very susceptible. In fact, you’re the type Kenneth looks for. That CD you bought, it’s been training you to respond positively to Jeff’s voice so that you can be trained further.”

Matt did not speak again for a minute. “So all this has been a sham. Everything that I’ve been feeling for Jeff, everything that you have told me before, all of it was a lie.”

“No, you’re not far enough along in your training for that to happen. It’s been real. Last night was for real.”

“I don’t know whether to believe you or not, Michael. Jeff and Kenneth have been manipulating me. Why not you as well?”

“Red dragon.”

“What?”

“Red dragon.”

Matt looked dazed for a second, and then his head slumped forward and his shoulders and arms relaxed. Michael stepped behind his chair and placed his hands on Matt’s shoulders to prevent him from falling out of the chair.

“Listen to me, Matt. Relax deeply and completely. Just take a deep breath in. Hold it for a second. Now let it our slowly. And as you do, you feel a deep wave of pleasure spread through your body. You feel so comfortable, so relaxed, so open. You feel so good when you listen to my voice. Just listen to my voice and sink deeper and deeper into sleep.”

Gradually Michael took Matt into his control, associating the strong feelings of pleasure he was feeling with obedience to Michael’s commands. “Matt, Kenneth Foster and Sandman are behind Scott Foster and the murders. You will investigate them further until you find the evidence needed to convict them. I will help you. Jeff and I are innocent of any wrongdoing. We are being used by Kenneth Foster. You love Jeff. You will protect Jeff. You will see that no harm comes to Jeff.”

Matt floated in world of warmth and comfort and security. Michael was with him. He was safe, but he had a job to do. He had to wake up and do his job.

“And this white noise machine belonged to you?”

“Yes, they are programmed with a subliminal message. The unit listens to it while sleeping and is further conditioned to obedience and submission to the owner. Scott Foster took it away. He must have given it to the murdered boy for some reason.”

“The unit. The owner. Why don’t you call them what they are? They are victims and criminals. We have to put a stop to Foster. How can he use people like that?”

“It’s horrible, Matt. I can’t tell you what it was like to be a unit. I was conditioned to the point where I couldn’t do anything but obey Smith, even when he was hurting me.”

Matt felt anger rise inside himself. He had to put a stop to this obscenity. “How did it get to be so late? Where is Jeff now? I have to take the two of you downtown so that you can make statements. We can have Foster arrested tonight.”

“He has paperwork that makes it look innocent. On paper, the units are employees of Sandman Enterprises and work under contract to the owners as personal assistants. We collect a monthly fee to pay their wages, their social security, health benefits, pension plan. It all looks innocent on the surface. Every unit you talk to will claim that he or she is only an employee of Sandman Enterprises. And I’m not sure that Jeff will testify against Foster. He’s been under his control for years.”

“I need to talk with Jeff. When will he be home?”

“He’s usually back by 6:30 or so. Some nights he’s later.”

“What do you have on that computer of yours? Can you get a list of all these units and who owns them?”

“I have the employment records. Foster keeps the main records at Canal Street. But I can find the names and addresses.”

“Where are these twins?”

“Also at Canal Street. The units are trained on the top floor of the Canal Street Building. They stay in an apartment owned by Kenneth Foster.”

“Michael, it’s going to be all right. I’m going to help you and Jeff fight this and get you free.” Matt put his arm around Michael’s shoulder and hugged him. “Now, let’s have a look at your computer and see what we can find.”

VII. Thursday, 3:00 p.m.

“Captain Jillson, this is the James Barnes, from the U.S. Attorney’s Office. And this is Special Agent Sean Campbell. Gentlemen, this is Cal Jillson. He heads our homicide department.” Chief of Police Bryson gestured for everyone to sit down.

“Captain, I believe you are investigating the murder of a David Spier.”

“That is correct. We have identified a likely suspect and are gathering information on him.”

“Who is heading the investigation?”

“It’s under the direction of Matt Dell’uomo. He’s being assisted by Officers Susan Trent and Robert Samuels. Jessica Lange is the supervising counsel from the District Attorney’s Office.”

“Are they the only ones involved in the investigation?”

“They are the primary investigators. Various officers have been sent to ask questions, interview neighbors and friends of the dead boy, that sort of thing. Davis Marks from the Business Fraud Division has also provided invaluable information.”

“On what? What has a murdered student have to do with business fraud?”

“We have been pursuing leads that led us to a company that appears to be implicated in the murder. Chief, what is this all about? What does a murdered student have to do with the federal attorney’s office?”

“Captain Jillson,” James Barnes interrupted, “the federal government has an interest in the David Spier’s murder. I have been instructed to inform you that it is a matter of national security and the investigation will be taken over by Special Agent Campbell and his office.”

“And what office is that?”

“I am not at liberty to say, Captain Jillson. We have an order from the Federal District Court ordering you to hand over all records relating to the case to Special Agent Campbell and his men. You are to instruct your officers to cease their investigation of the case.”

“Chief, I must protest against this.”

“Cal, I have received several calls on this from the highest levels. This is a matter of national security. Special Agent Campbell is simply doing his job. I expect you and your men to cooperate with him and turn over all your records. Our investigation is to end immediately.”

VIII. Thursday, 4:30 p.m.

“Matt, where are you?”

“Susan, what’s up? I’m with Michael Sorenson. I’ve uncovered some incredible evidence against Sandman.”

“We’ve been called off.”

“Called off what?”

“The Feds are in our offices now, taking all our records on the Spier’s case, Sandman Enterprises, everything. Captain Jillson has ordered us to cooperate with them and stop the investigation.”

“Where are you now?”

“I’m in the women’s bathroom. All of the federal agents are male. It was the one place I figured they couldn’t follow me.”

“Susan, you wouldn’t believe what Sandman’s been doing. We can put Kenneth Foster away for years.”

“Matt, the government is claiming it’s a matter of national security. They are threatening to arrest us if we don’t drop the investigation.”

“We can’t drop it, Susan. We have to figure out a way to stop these guys.”

“Matt, I can’t talk any longer. They’ll get suspicious. These guys mean business, Matt. We’ll have to be careful. I’ll talk with you later.”

When Susan Trent put her cell phone back into the pocket of her suit coat, she felt a piece of paper she had tucked into her pocket earlier. On it was jotted a phone message that had arrived for her earlier. “Patrolman Black reports that twins trailed to Midtown Health Club.” She decided that as far as she knew, the curiously out-of-place twins were not part of the Spier’s murder case and hence not a concern of the federal agents.

IX. Thursday, 5:30 p.m.

“Delivery for Jeff Angie.”

“I’ll take care of it, Cindy. If you’ve closed out the till, you can go home now. I’ll lock up.”

“Sign here.”

“Thanks, Jeff. I’ll just get my coat and purse.”

“Thanks. Just a second. Let me give you something for your trouble.”

“It’s been taken care of. Enjoy, Mr. Angie.”

“Thanks.” “And it’s Ange,” Jeff said under his breath. Out of habit, he glanced up and down the bike messenger’s body. Not his type. Way too skinny. The guy must do drugs. It didn’t look as if he had eaten for a month. Plus his skin was so pale—odd for a bike messenger who spent his days outside delivering packages.

He put the manila envelope on the counter while he locked the door behind Cindy and the delivery man and then carried the cash drawer and the envelope into the backroom. It was only after he had double-checked Cindy’s totals and put the money into the wall safe and the checks and credit card receipts into the bag for Michael that he turned to the package again. It was marked “Urgent. Open Immediately” in what appeared to be Ken Foster’s handwriting. That was a first in his experience. He couldn’t recall getting a package delivery from Ken before. He tore open the flap and pulled out a plastic baggy. It appeared to contain only a sheet of paper. “This is weird,” he thought. “Why would Ken send me a blank sheet of paper?” He opened the bag and pulled out the sheet. It was wet, like one of those moist towelettes that restaurants that serve messy food give you. And there was an odd, peppery smell. He felt dizzy. “What is this?” he thought.

He hardly was aware of answering the phone when it rang a few seconds later. “Jeff, have you opened the envelope?”

“Yes. What is it?”

“Wipe your face with the towel. Hold it over your nose and breathe in deeply.”

Jeff did as he had been told without hesitation.

“Now unlock the front door.”

Jeff dropped the towel on the table and walked through the dark shop to the front door and unlocked it. With his last conscious thoughts, he recognized the bicycle messenger and the man in Mike Albertson’s drawing. A third person dressed in a black body suit slipped into the room behind the other two. The man gestured for the messenger to relock the door and led Jeff into the back room and sat him down. He poured a few drops of a liquid onto the towel and held it over Jeff’s face. “Breathe in deeply. Good. Now again. Very good. And once more.” The man glanced at his watch. Better to give the drug a minute or two to circulate in Jeff’s system. He checked the backdoor to make sure it was locked. He lifted the shade on the window and checked the back alley. “Bring the van around back here. And get changed. I don’t like those clothes.” He let the manimal who had played the role of the messenger out the front door and locked it again. None of the people hurrying by paid them the slightest attention. No one was watching.

He returned to the backroom. Jeff’s eyes were vacant. “No one’s home at Jeffie’s place.” He chuckled to himself. Really, Uncle Kenneth had no taste in assistants. Jeff was positively fleshy. Not at all sleek. His arms were straining the sleeves of his shirt. He had to work out to be that well developed. And there was that tuft of hair showing at his throat. It was disgusting. And yet Uncle Kenneth trusted this Jeff with his business. Not his real business, of course. That he gave to his favorite nephew. But Uncle Kenneth let this guy train these units and service them, as well as run this shop. True, it was a pretty crummy shop, but he had never even asked Scott if he wanted to help out. He would have made a much better assistant than Jeff. He could guess that Jeff was too kind to the units, too tolerant of their wishes. He would have put a stop to that. After all, he had been the one who had shown John how to discipline Michael. And that silly white noise machine that Jeff had given Michael to keep him trained. That had been totally useless. He had tried it on David, and it hadn’t done anything but put him to sleep. No, the new way was much better. Once he and Uncle Kenneth had the product ready, it would be only a matter of time before . . .

The van pulled up into the back alley. Scott turned off the light and waited until he heard the door of the van close. He opened the door a crack and watched while his manimal stood in the alley and stripped off his clothes. Now that was a proper body. Thin, white, hairless, sleek, smooth, pale. The black suit flowed on effortlessly. Nothing caught at it. It was if a shadow were flowing over his manimal’s body. It was so beautiful now. The zentai suit was so much better than those ugly jeans and t-shirt. He briefly thought ahead to the pleasures that awaited him later. But first, business. He turned back toward Jeff. Really it was much better to keep Jeff in the dark. That way, he didn’t have to look at him and his ugly body. It was also so nice the way the manimals disappeared into the background. He should have brought his black suit too. Poor Jeffie wouldn’t have been able to see anyone in the dark. Well, poor little Jeffie wasn’t seeing too much anyway. It was time to begin. He made a mental note. Jeff had received a total of six drops maximum. The cloth had had three drops. So clever of him to have put it into an envelope with Uncle Kenneth’s writing on it. Then he had put three drops more on the cloth when he had entered. Of course, all of it had been administered through the skin or breathed in. So the total would be even less. Say three drops maximum concentration in Jeff’s body now. Of course, it wasn’t really Jeff’s body anymore. “I am taking you away, I am taking your body away from you, Jeff. Stripping your mind of all control. Your body no longer obeys you. It obeys me. Does Jeffie want to lie down in a hammock? Does Jeffie want to lie in the warm sun at the beach?” Oh, this was too luscious. Uncle Kenneth would be amazed to see which of his star pupils had proved the victor. The Jeffie stud under his control at last. But poor Jeff wouldn’t be a stud much longer.

Should he make Jeff kneel and kiss his shoes. A bit theatrical and silly, but a nice way to begin, he thought. He pulled out a chair and sat down, his legs stretched out in front of him. The manimal had put a nice shine on his shoes. The tips gleamed in the few rays of light penetrating the room. It was quite entrancing to look at them and slowly move them back and forth. Uncle Kenneth had shown him the fascination of moving lights so long ago. So relaxing. So entrancing. Just the flickering beam of light in front of him. “Jeffie, prostrate yourself on the floor at my feet and lick the tips of my shoes. Oh, such a good obedient boy. You would like to be my toy, wouldn’t you, Jeffie. But you can’t. I won’t allow it. You’re too ugly. All you are good for is licking my shoes and a little game of asobi later. You don’t know what that is, but you will find out. Although it’s a pity that you won’t be able to comprehend all that is happening to you. One of the shortcomings of this wonderful drug. But, then, I will be able to comprehend it. And that will be enough for me.” He hadn’t planned this at all well. The scene deserved candlelight, flickering over Jeff’s tongue as it lovingly licked his shoes. The little pink tongue tirelessly licking his shoes. Perhaps he should take it as a trophy later. He should have worn boots, dirty, filthy boots for Jeff to lick clean. The aristocrat home from a long hard ride along muddy roads. And he should have one of mother’s heavy crystal brandy snifters beside him on the table. He wouldn’t drink any of the foul liquid, but it would help set the scene. The nobleman accepting the fealty of a serf. Ah, once again he had been in too much of a hurry. He had to learn patience. But back to work, play later.

“Now, Jeffery Jeffers Jeffie, some questions before we asobi.”

X. Thursday, 6:45 p.m.

“Hi, it’s just me. I’m running late. I thought I would pick up a pizza on the way back. Is the usual ok? . . . Oh, ok, I’d better get two then. What does he like? . . . Anchovies? . . . No, I don’t mind anchovies. . . . Well, it’s about time I gave them a try, then. You’re always complaining that I’m not an adventurous eater. . . . I’ll be there in about 45.”

“Very good, Jeff. You sounded quite normal. Is someone there besides Michael?”

“Matt.”

“Even better. I will get all three conspirators at once. Uncle Kenneth will be surprised that you have been consorting with the police, Jeff. He will be most disappointed. But he will be happy that I’ve rounded up the three of you so efficiently and put a stop to you. I’m afraid you’ve been a very bad boy, Jeff, and you need to be punished, don’t you? All three of you need to be punished, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Phone this pizza place and order the pizzas. We’ll pick them up on the way.”

XI. Thursday, 7:30 p.m.

“Hi, I’m back. I hope you’re hungry. I’m starving. Let’s eat. Hey, what’s with you two? You look so serious.”

“Matt knows, Jeff. I’ve told him everything about Sandman.”

“Don’t worry, Jeff. I’ll see that you’re protected. It’s a clear case of undue influence. You’re as much a victim as these units Michael has been telling me about. With your testimony, we’ll be able to put Foster away for the rest of his life.”

“Put Foster away? What do you mean? If anyone needs to be punished, it’s me.

“Jeff, you’ve got to help the police. It’s your only chance to be free of Kenneth.”

“Michael, what are you saying? I’m not Kenneth’s slave. Now eat your pizza. I’m starving.”

“You’re taking this calmly. I thought you would be angry.”

“Well, I’m hungry. Ok, let’s eat and then we’ll talk.”

“This tastes funny.”

“Probably an anchovy.”

“No, it tasted like I bit into a peppercorn. Well, it fine now.”

XII. Thursday, 8:00 p.m.

“Yes, Director?”

“We’ve been following your nephew, Kenneth. He left the River Towers at around 4:00 this afternoon and took a cab to that warehouse of his. About 15 minutes later, he left in the van, with his two helpers. One of them was dressed like a bike messenger. Your nephew parked near your store, and the helper dressed like a messenger took a manila envelope inside your store about 5:30. A minute or so later, the messenger and a woman came out of the store. Your nephew waited inside the van for 10 minutes or so and then made a phone call. Your assistant Jeff opened the door of the shop, and your nephew and the two helpers went inside. A short time later, the lead helper came out again and drove off in the van. We didn’t have enough men on the scene to follow him. So we let him go and concentrated on your nephew. We could tell that Jeff and your nephew weren’t in the front of the shop, and one of our men had the bright idea to see if there was a back entrance to the shop.”

“There is. How long was Scott in the shop? He’s rather jealous of Jeff. He thinks I favor Jeff. This is not good, Director.”

“Our man discovered the van parked in the alleyway behind the shop. So he and another man tried to get close enough to listen in. Our third man parked their car near the entrance to the alleyway. By the time they found the alleyway and got in position, Scott and Jeff and the other two were getting ready to leave. They drove off in the van, stopped at a pizza place, and then drove to an address that we subsequently ascertained is Jeff’s apartment.”

“Then what happened?”

“Jeff got out and walked in the building carrying the pizzas. The rest of them waited in the van for about half an hour. Your nephew got a phone call a few minutes ago. We could see him talking on a cell phone. He just got out of the van and went into the building.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, his two assistants are still in the van.”

“I’m going over there. Instruct your men to wait for me. They should enter the apartment only if they suspect Scott is harming Jeff and Michael or if he tries to take them away in his van. I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

XIII. Thursday, 8:00 p.m.

Jeff had been disgusting enough, but Michael and this policeman were even worse. One couldn’t always choose one’s test subjects, but really he was going to have to insist to Uncle Kenneth that he needed subjects that met rigid and strict criteria. No more rats harvested from the streets. Scott giggled. The city would be better off without these three. Dad was always stressing that everyone had a civic duty to improve the appearance of the world. Well, Dad would be right behind him in this endeavor. The appearance of the city would be much improved after he had finished with these three. He should have done Michael in when he had had the chance. Instead he had relied on John to take care of him. And John had proved to be a weak vessel. He had had hopes for John, but the lad was too squeamish to follow through. He was sadly lacking in moral fiber. Moral fiber—that was another of Dad’s campaigns. Dad would be so proud to see how much moral fiber his younger son had. William Vee didn’t even come close in the fiber department. Probably thought fiber was something you got by eating oatmeal.

And this policeman. Had Jeff actually had sex with this oaf? The man had to be 6’4 and a yard wide across the shoulders. Ridiculously narrow through the hips, and his thighs and butt straining the fabric of his pants. Overdeveloped moron. Not a gentleman. If he was going to be so large, at least he could have his clothes tailored. He would never find ready-to-wear that fit. Well, Jeff must like the dark, Mediterranean type. And all that hair, so riotously curly. Michael had dark hair too.

Well, all three of them were docile now. But the place smelled like pizza. A disgusting food. All that garlic and tomatoes and cheese. It was making him quite nauseous. And they had a cat too. A real cat, not one of his clean manimals. He had to get out of there quickly. But first he had to make a phone call.

* * *

“Uncle Kenneth?”

“Scott, how’s my favorite nephew?”

“I’m fine, Uncle Kenneth. Where are you now?”

“I’ve just left my office on Canal Street. I’m in my car. Where are you?”

“Uncle Kenneth, I’ve uncovered a plot.”

“A plot? What sort of a plot?”

“It’s Jeff and that Michael of his. They’ve been conspiring with the police against you. They’ve even been having sex with one of them, an inspector.”

“Is the inspector named Dell’uomo.”

“I don’t know. A big, ugly guy. Jeff called him Matt.”

“Yes, that’s Dell’uomo. How did you find all of this out, Scott?”

“I’ve known for some time that Jeff was plotting something, Uncle. Tonight I gave him some of the drug, and he confessed everything to me. Then I tricked Michael and this Matt into taking some of the drug. I have all three of them under control, Uncle.”

“Where are you now, Scott?”

“I’m at Jeff’s place, Uncle. But I can’t stay here. It smells, and they have a cat. It’s so small. They have so much stuff. There’s no room to breathe here, Uncle. I have to get out of here soon. I’m going to take them to my place.”

“The River Towers?”

“No, my loft. There’s more room there.”

“Scott, wait for me at Jeff’s. I will be there in just a few minutes. I’ll help you move the three of them. If they have only just been drugged, they could be too much for one person to handle. You can open a window. Get some fresh air. That will help you, Scottie. Uncle Kenneth will be there soon. You’ll do that for me, won’t you, Scottie?”

“Yes, Uncle Kenneth, but please hurry. I don’t like this place.”

“Just open the window and keep talking to me. Have you got the window open? Good. Now take deep breaths and just be calm. I’ll be there soon.”

* * *

His brain wasn’t working, Matt decided. He could think that he wanted to move, he could form the motions in his mind, but his muscles weren’t getting the message. He had to protect Jeff and Michael from this man who had come in. But he felt so tired, and it was so easy just to do what the man said and just sit still, but the man was going to hurt Jeff and he had to protect Jeff. The man was talking on the phone to someone. He was going to take them somewhere. Matt knew that if this man told him to move, his body would obey. He had to prevent the man from taking them away. Now the man was opening the window and leaning out. If he could only stand up, if he could just gain control of his legs and his arms and move. It would only take a second to cross to the window. He had to protect Jeff. He was so much bigger than this man, it would be easy to subdue him. He was so tired. His mind wasn’t working. He had to concentrate. Concentrate on moving.

* * *

“Scott, what was that noise? Scott? Scott, are you all right?”

* * *

“Director, this is Kenneth Foster. I was talking with my nephew Scott Foster inside my assistant’s apartment. I heard a strange noise, and my nephew is no longer speaking. Get your men in there and control the situation. They will need to be quiet so that the neighbors aren’t disturbed. I’ll be there in about 5 minutes.”

XIV. Thursday, 8:15 p.m.

“Is this how you found them?”

“No, Sir, we’ve been trying to bring the little guy around. He was lying on the floor by the window. He appears to have been knocked out by the big guy. When we got here, the big guy was lying on top of the little guy. The big guy was out of it, but as far as we can tell there’s no physical damage. He does have a small cut on his face, but that must have happened when he fell. He seems to be drugged, Sir. He keeps struggling to move. We rolled him off the small guy and laid the small guy on that couch so that we could administer first aid.”

“How could he knock him out? I don’t see any weapon.”

“I’m just guessing, but if I had to do it, Sir, I would ball my fists together like this and bring them down on the back of the other person’s neck. Given the difference in size and height, it wouldn’t have been difficult for the big guy to knock the other one out.”

“What about the other two?”

“When we came in, they were sitting at that table with the same vacant looks on their faces. It looks like they just finished a pizza. They haven’t moved since we arrived. Do you know these guys?”

“Yes, the big guy is a police detective. His name is Dell’uomo. I don’t remember his first name. He’s been investigating a homicide, and my assistant Jeff Ange—he’s the blond-haired guy sitting at the table—has been helping him. This is Jeff’s apartment. The other person at the table is Michael Sorenson. He’s keeps the accounts for my business. He’s also Jeff’s lover and lives here too. That man is my nephew, Scott Foster. He has been doing some work for me that brought him into contact with Jeff. My nephew is not well. I’m afraid he has been taking some medications that have affected his mind and caused him to become suspicious of Jeff. Are you in contact with the Director?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Please call him and tell him that we need to transfer Scott to the safe facility. He will explain to you what needs to be done. I will take care of the others. They have been given a drug that I developed for the agency. I know how to deal with it. For the moment, however, it would be best if you removed Scott and your men.”

“I will have to check with the Director first, Sir.”

“Yes, of course. Tell him that I will call him after I have dealt with these three.”

“Should I call an ambulance?”

“No, that will not be necessary. Jeff and the other two are in no danger. The drug will wear off shortly. Right now it is imperative to remove my nephew and get him medical treatment in a safe facility. The Director will give you your orders.”

* * *

“Matt, how are you feeling?”

“Yunishtz.”

“Yunishtz?”

“U . . . nits. Musht shtop.”

“Matt, everything is being taken care of. You don’t have to worry about anything right now. You can relax. You have done your job by protecting Jeff and Michael. Why don’t you just sleep for a while. Remember how we talked about hypnosis in my office and you watched the red light?”

“Mmmm, ’s nice.”

“Yes, it was nice. Just close your eyes for a moment and think of that red light. Remember how it grew brighter and then dimmer, brighter and dimmer. And how you felt so peaceful as you watched it. Brighter and then dimmer. You feel so relaxed, so at peace, so calm. You just want to go to sleep for hours. You feel so tired. That’s right, Just close your eyes. Your eyes are so heavy. Your whole body is so heavy. Just relax. Sleep. Just sleep deeply.”

* * *

“Michael, Matt is sleeping on your bed. You are going to get up from the table and walk into your bedroom and lie down on the bed with Matt. Good. Very good, Michael. Now lie down. Just relax. Sleep, Michael. You remember all of our talks from years ago, Michael. Remember how you used to sleep when I told you to. How you would relax so completely. So deeply. You feel that wave of relaxation slowly moving down your body. Relaxing you completely. Totally. Just sleep, Michael. You and Matt will sleep until I awaken you.”

* * *

“Jeff, how are you feeling?”

“Dizzy.”

“What happened?”

“There was a delivery from you at the shop. There was an envelope with a wet towel, and then that man was in the shop. I don’t remember what happened very well. He talked to me and then we bought some pizzas to bring back here for Michael and Matt to eat. He put something on the pizzas. I was supposed to make them eat it. But they didn’t want to eat. They wanted to talk. I had to trick them into eating.”

“What did they want to talk about?”

“Michael told Matt everything about Sandman, about the units. Michael wants me to quit, and Matt says that he will arrange for me to testify against you so that you can be put away.”

“I see. Well, you won’t do that.”

“No, Kenneth. I would never do that.”

“I know I can trust you, Jeff. Now, I want you to lie down on the couch. You have had a hard day. You deserve a good sleep. You will be oblivious to everything that happens until I awaken you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Kenneth.”

“I will take care of you, Jeff. Just sleep for a while and I will take care of everything.”

* * *

“Director? I need to remove Michael Sorenson right away. I want him taken to the test facility at Fort Miller and given a full regimen of the drug. He had his first dosage tonight around 7:30 or so, and he should receive the next dosage within 24 hours. Tell the doctors to administer the usual tests. They are to be told only that he is a normal ‘volunteer.’ ”

* * *

Across the street Scott Foster’s van cooled along with the night air. The two manimals sat quietly, oblivious to everything happening around them. They had been forgotten. They would sit there for almost 36 hours, until a neighbor noticed that the same man who had been waiting motionless in the driver’s seat when he had returned home the night before was still sitting there the next morning. The patrolmen who answered the call didn’t know what to make of them. They were quite docile, however, and did not resist being taken away to the hospital.

XV. Friday, 10:30 a.m.

“Where have you guys been?”

“Just following up a lead, Matt. A loose end.”

“Find anything?”

“What we found is a health club. It’s a great place run by this fantastic guy named Joe. You ought to check it out—the Midtown Health Club over on Sixth south of Delancy.”

“Maybe I will. I need to get more exercise.”

“Now that the Spier’s case has been cleared, what do we do now, Matt?”

“There’s still the Campbell murder. I still think the husband’s good for that one.”

XVI. Death Announced

The Chronicle, July 18 A spokesperson for the family of Senator William Foster IV announced the death on July 12 of Scott Foster, 31, the younger son of Senator Foster and the late Elizabeth Coutrell Foster, following a brief illness. Burial was at the family’s mausoleum in Westport. Prior to his illness, Scott Foster had been employed as a researcher for the Department of the Treasury. The White House issued a statement of condolences to the family and noted “Scott Foster’s upholding of his family’s long tradition of service to the nation.” Senator Foster is widely rumored to be considering a run for the presidency next year. His office declined to comment on what effect, if any, his son’s death might have on the Senator’s plans.

Channel 7 Nightly News September 7

“Lanning, in Barlow county, is famous for the many ancient trees that make this community a desired home for commuters. But the peace and serenity of this sylvan paradise was shattered earlier this year when flocks of noisy starlings invaded the town and began roosting in the trees. Residents complained of the noise and the mess, but to no avail. Conventional methods of discouraging the birds did not work. Lanning, however, has found a unique solution to its problems, thanks to a company called Sandman Enterprises. Here with the story is our own Jill Potter.”

“Thank you, Marsha. Behind me is the town square of Lanning. Until two weeks ago, the many oaks you can see here were filled every night with thousands of starlings.”

[Cut to a picture of a middle-aged man; the label “Winston Heald, mayor” appears at the bottom of the screen.]

“The noise was unbelievable. And the sidewalks were so covered with bird droppings that no one wanted to walk on them. Our downtown businesses were suffering because no one would shop here. Plus any car parked in the area quickly became fouled. The birds were even beginning to attack pets and small children.”

“With the help of a small research company named Sandman Enterprises, Lanning was able to get rid of the pesky birds. This is white noise machine. As you can hear, it produces a steady stream of sound, rather like a hair dryer running. It is used to prevent others from overhearing conversations or to drown out streets noise and help people sleep. Sandman modified this basic unit and installed them on light poles around Lanning. Within days, all the birds had flown away.”

[Cut to a picture of a young woman holding a baby; the label “Melissa Henderson, Lanning resident” appears on the screen.]

“It was a miracle. Every day for months we were woken up by these birds. Sean here couldn’t sleep for all the noise. Then they install these machines, and the next morning all the birds are gone.”

“It’s been two months since Lanning got rid of its birds, but it has decided to continue using the machines. Does it have any plans to remove the white noise machines? Here with the answer to that question is Lanning’s chief of police, Ron Williams.”

“We’ve found that all of us are sleeping better with the white noise machines. The sound is very restful. I can’t tell you what a difference it makes to get a good night’s sleep. We even think that it’s cut down on crime. We don’t get nearly as many calls as we used to.”

“There you have it, Marsha. One town’s problems solved by technology. This is Jill Potter, reporting live from Lanning.”

“Thank you, Jill. I’m definitely going to look into buying one of those machines. Wouldn’t it be nice not to be awakened at 5:00 in the morning by garbage trucks? Now here’s Ted with the Weather. What have you got in store for us, Ted? Another glorious weekend?”

Military Re-enlistments Up

The Department of Defense announced today that military re-enlistments are running 90 percent overall. “We are experiencing close to 100 percent re-enlistments among qualified personnel,” said Alicia White, spokesperson for the Defense Department. “Even personnel who qualify for full retirement are opting to continue in the services. We are even having to turn down many who are no longer physically capable of serving.” White attributed the increase in re-enlistments to improvements in the military’s benefit package as well as to the military’s new “Defend the Homeland” initiatives. The controversial program of what critics have labeled “indoctrination” and proponents call “patriotism building” has clearly “paid off in better morale throughout the military,” said White. “The proof is that our fighting man and women want to continue to serve our country.”

Changes at Foster Enterprises

In a surprise announcement, Foster Enterprises announced the resignation of William Foster V as its president and CEO and the appointment of Kenneth Foster as its new head. “Vee,” as he is known to his associates, said that he was stepping down to help with his father’s presidential campaign. “Even if he were not my father, I would want to participate in his election. This country needs my father’s bold thinking and his plans to restore greatness to our country. And I am confident that my cousin Kenneth Foster will continue the aggressive posture that has made Foster Enterprises a leading force in the American economy.” Kenneth Foster, who is head of Sandman Enterprises, said that he would take up his new position immediately. Sandman Enterprises has attracted much attention lately for its new environmental white noise machines and their possible crime-reduction role in what has been dubbed the “Lanning effect” after the town in which crime rates dropped precipitously after it installed the machines. Jeff Ange, vice-president for product development and customer relations at Sandman, will replace Kenneth Foster as head of Sandman.

Foster in a Landslide

William Foster IV has coasted to an easy win in the presidential elections. Returns from 95 percent of precincts show Senator Foster winning 80 percent of the vote and 100 percent of the votes in the electoral college. Although he began as the underdog, trailing his then-opponent Margaret Rollings by as much as 45 points, Foster surged ahead after the first presidential debate when Rollings burst into tears and confessed that she thought Foster would make a better president. Rollings’s resignation a week later and the elevation of vice-presidential candidate Joseph Townes to the top spot did nothing to revive the flagging fortunes of their party. Townes conceded the election a minute after the polls closed on the West Coast. In his victory statement, Foster pledged to restore greatness and decency to the nation. . . .

Foster Enterprises Reports Rise in Earnings

Foster Enterprises today announced an increase in earnings for last year of 15 percent over the previous year. The increase was attributed to the runaway success of Foster’s new soft drink, Red Dragon. Propelled by an aggressive marketing campaign featuring former homicide inspector Matt Dell’uomo, sales of the new drink, which was introduced only in February, quickly outpaced those for all other soft drinks combined. . . .

Congress Adjourns

In what historians are labeling a first in modern times, Congress adjourned today after a record three-and-a-half-month session. Not since the early days of the republic has Congress finished its business and packed up so quickly. Congressional leaders said that they had no plans to reconvene before next January. With hardly a dissenting voice, the members passed all of President Foster’s programs and the budget. “I’m looking forward to going trout fishing,” remarked Senate Majority Leader Robert Morse. “You all come join me. We’ve got great trout streams, and you won’t find friendlier people anywhere.” . . .

Foster Enterprises Introduces New Food Supplement

Foster Enterprises’ Food Division today announced that it had received FDA approval to begin selling its new food supplement, Fostrix. “It’s a breakthrough,” said Foster Research Director Giles Ames. “It’s cheap, incredibly nutritious, tasteless. It can be added to any food. It promises to help relieve malnutrition and hunger worldwide.” Foster plans to begin adding Fostrix to its line of food products immediately. . . . Sales of Foster stock rose on expectations of increased earnings.

Entertainment News, October 12

“I’m here this morning with the stars of Foster Entertainment’s new mega-hit City Streets, Matt Dell’uomo, Susan Trent, and Robert Samuels. Good morning, guys.”

“Thank you, Eric, we’re happy to be here.”

“Now as most viewers know by now, all three of you were homicide cops. Matt, do you feel that your experience helps your performance on City Streets?”

“Absolutely. I think our viewers can sense the authenticity we bring to the portrayals of our characters.”

“Susan, women throughout the country are praising the sense of strength you bring to the character of Lieutenant Alpins. What’s your secret?”

“Well, part of it is physical, Eric. We all work out with this wonderful trainer, Joe, and we’ve all bulked up. I was surprised when I first saw myself on the tube and realized how imposing I had become physically. Of course, I’ve worked with Matt for many years, and next to him I’m petite. I think I had grown used to the idea that I was smaller because I was comparing myself to him.”

“So are you saying that Matt is intimidating?”

“Nah, he’s a pussycat. But I learned from him how to use your sheer physicality to intimidate suspects.”

“You said that part of it is physical. What else is there?”

“Well, the other part is mental preparation. While we were still on the police force, we came in contact with motivational trainer Jeff Ange in connection with one of our cases. He’s helped all three of us develop the self-confidence to tackle acting.”

“Robert, critics have noted, and I am quoting, that the ‘vibrant masculinity and robust charm that Samuels bring to the character of Sergeant O’Deigh misleads the bad guys into underestimating his intelligence and intuitive understanding of the criminal mind.’ Do you think that is a fair assessment?”

“I don’t know if it is fair, but I’m not going to reject the compliment. O’Deigh is really the comic relief on the program and the plodder—he’s the one who uncovers the more boring details that help solve the crime but aren’t really sexy.”

“Now you are trying to mislead us into underestimating you, Robert. Your fans have noted your physical assets.”

“Well, that’s my one complaint about the series. Once people started commenting on what you call my assets, the producers decided to dress me in these painfully tight pants. They literally sew me into them. They’re so tight I can barely move, and the writers have to figure out reasons why I’m not wearing a suit coat when Matt and Susan are. It’s getting so that I dread seeing the direction ‘O’Deigh removes his coat and turns his back to the camera’ in our scripts.”

“And you feel that you have more to offer?”

“Much more, Eric. I do have a face and other body parts.”

“The face and the other body parts have been noticed as well, Robert. Now Matt, you play the role of the brooding Chief Inspector Donatello in the series. The role is not unlike the job you had as a homicide inspector. Do you ever regret quitting your day job?”

“Not at all. We saw a lot of terrible things as homicide detectives. What some monsters will do to human beings—well, I still have nightmares about it occasionally. Would I want to return to the old days, before the environmental white noise controls? No, I don’t think any cop would. Sure, it meant that a lot of cops became superfluous, but if I had to choose between playing a cop on a TV series set forty years ago and investigating murders for real, then, well, there’s no choice at all. Pretend beats reality everyday.”

“I think most of our viewers recognize you from the ads that introduced Red Dragon. How did that get started?”

“It was just an accident. I was visiting a friend who works in the Foster Building, and the man who was putting together the ad campaign noticed me and asked me to try out.”

“Do you still drink Red Dragon?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

XVII

The view from the President’s Office on the top floor of the Foster Building looked west toward the Silver Hills. Nothing interfered with Kenneth Foster’s gaze toward the horizon. Foster Enterprises was running much better now that it was under his control. Profits were up substantially. The employees were happy and more productive than ever. The company was expanding in new directions.

He thought, not for the first time, that he had pulled off the greatest feat of social engineering in history. Every poll showed that people were happier, more content with their jobs and lives. Crime had practically disappeared. The environment was much cleaner. His cousin was running for re-election unopposed. Of course, there had been casualties along the way. But no one was arguing with the results. But, then, there weren’t any dissenters from the new order left. And now it was spreading throughout the world, thanks to the Fostrix dietary supplement and the environmental white noise. So much white noise—not just from the machines but from the news and television and movies, sports, the gossip machines, everything combining to keep people from thinking.

XVIII

Matt and I lay in bed. Matt likes to put his head on my chest and sleep with my right arm around his shoulders. Given the difference in size, it isn’t easy to hug Matt closely. But I do the best I can. He is so great to be with. And it was so easy to train him. He’s much happier now. My only regret is Michael’s perfidy. I should have seen that coming. In hindsight, it’s easy to see that he was encouraging me all along to betray Kenneth. As if I could have done that. I owe everything that I am to Kenneth.

END

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