Hot Spell

by Shiloh Walker

  Jonathans brightened marginally, eyes wary. “Your project is that good?”

  A wide grin stretched her mouth. “Yes, it is.”

  “Then let’s have a look at it. If it is all you tout it to be, you’ll have your 1.5 billion dollars. If it’s not, you can consider yourself fired.”

  *****

  Moriah could feel the exhilaration and excitement electrifying the room. Seven men sat with their mouths hanging open, eyes sparkling with visions of dollar signs. The other three sat huddled in a secluded corner, words flying between them. One held a pad on his knee, scribbling madly as the others rattled off figures with giddy greed.

  “Could we see that one more time, please?” Blythe Turnery’s face wore a happy, hopeful look. Like a kid in a toy shop, he rode the edge of his seat, almost bouncing with impatience.

  Moriah felt a little giddy, herself. The representatives of Micronsoft and Norton were salivating at the chance to market her software. Feeling momentarily lightheaded with relief, she leaned against the table.

  Thank the Lord and Lady. I can support myself and Nyla, no matter what happens in eight days time.

  She couldn’t believe how well the first demonstration had gone off. Of course, she had expected it to work, had seen it in action several times, knew her work was solid and sound. Still, watching the faces and reactions of these hardened, experienced businessmen as they viewed and evaluated her discovery made her heart soar with pride and hope.

  “Miss Morris…?”

  She snapped out of her happy fugue. “Yes, Mr. Turnery, Roddy is readying the second demonstration, now.” His face betrayed his surprise at her forward thinking so she answered his unspoken question. “I was fairly sure you would want to see it a second time, which is why I requested you to bring more than one computer.”

  “We did not mind supplying the units, but did wonder why you hadn’t gotten them yourself.”

  “Very simply, we did not want the question of the machines being tampered with to be an issue. The seals you placed on the computers remain intact, proof that we have not accessed the panel. If you wish to endanger your own handheld, we could use that. It makes no difference what kind of computer issues the viral command. The Antibody software will react using the same criteria: seek and destroy.”

  “Magnificent!”

  As they waited for the second demonstration, she pointed out some extra details. “You will be glad to know I have designed this program to be a continuous money maker. It can be coded to deactivate according to the distributor’s will. That means it can be priced to fit the budget of all consumers. Code it to deactivate in six months and charge one fee. Code it to last a year, the fee goes up. And so on, and so on…”

  “What about the vehicle to deliver the software? Will it transport over a simple floppy or CD?”

  Roddy stuck his head around the corner. “Ready when you are, acting-boss.”

  “Thank you, Roddy.”

  Pressing the button that retracted the panels to reveal the room next door, she moved over to the computer console and sat down. Turning to the men she asked, “Shall we do this again…?”

  They quickly jumped up and ordered themselves about the computer, watching her closely.

  She brought out a disk and slid it into the floppy drive. “This software version is for the sole purpose of this demonstration, so is coded to last for only five minutes. Upon installation, the execution commands will self-destruct within fifteen seconds. Earlier, you asked about floppies vs. CDs. Keep your manufacturing costs to a minimum and use floppies. Two minutes after the product is installed, there will be nothing on the disk to copy. Cuts down on pirating…”

  “That is an ingenious device, Miss Morris.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gerhard.”

  She tapped a few keys in response to the on-screen prompts. She could have done everything in less than twelve seconds, but this demonstration needed to be paced slowly enough for the representatives to follow and understand each phase of the operation.

  “Roddy, engage the fire wall, now, please.” She released the intercom button and sat back.

  In the next room, a clear box descended from the ceiling, the four sides locking into place in the grooves designed to bear their weight. An IBM wannabe rested on a clear pillar in the center of the box, its base made out of the same material as the box.

  “All right, Mr. Eddies, please beam the virus file over to the computer using your handheld, as you did before.” She glanced up and around. “Recall, gentlemen, the computer behind the fire wall is not protected with the Antibody program, so Mr. Eddies’ handheld is safe.” She waited for the nervous laughter to die down and then continued. “Mr. Eddies is beaming a virus to the computer. I will access the same computer remotely, opening the e-mail program and telling it to send the infected file to the receptionist’s computer. She will forward the message as soon as it arrives to my console, here. When it reaches this protected computer, the virus will not only be blocked, it will be analyzed, tracked, and destroyed.”

  She pushed the button.

  A moment later, her computer whirred and announced, You’ve got mail!

  Less than a minute later, a bright red banner flashed across her computer monitor.

  Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!

  In the room next door, a white-hot flare filled the box. When the mist cleared, only the base of the pillar remained. The computer had been totally vaporized.

  Intruder neutralized.

  “You will notice that the computer passing the virus along was not affected. The program magickly tracks the virus to its source and destroys that source.”

  Moriah shut her computer down and turned to face the men, hands folded in her lap. “For this demonstration, we used a strong blast—an explosion—to cause a greater impact upon the viewers. Much as we might be tempted to, we cannot have a computer program destroying public property and endangering lives, so the public version of the Antibody program will destroy only the computer by implosion. Not even the hacker will be harmed.” She smiled. “The Attorney General of the Northwestern Division has promised to give this program his personal seal of approval, and to recommend the government purchases this program to protect their military installations. So you may be sure it complies with all safety laws throughout the World Divisions.”

  “Congratulations, Miss Morris. You have managed to engineer a perfect blending of Homo sapiens technology with Homo magnus Magicks, and I predict your discovery will revolutionize the computer world.” Mr. Gerhard rubbed his hands together, smiling all over his face. “I know Steve is going to want this. I came here with the power to sign and I am now more than ready to do so. When can your company deliver?”

  Mr. Jonathans stood up. Facial expression cunning, he shook his head at the Micronsoft representative. “I am afraid we have run into a minor glitch…namely, Miss Morris. She has decided to act as an independent contractor and is demanding her fees up front, which means the amount you indicated earlier is no longer adequate to close this deal.”

  The four reps glanced over at Moriah. Mr. Gerhard walked over and offered his hand, winking at her. “Going out on your own is a bold move worthy of Steve. I am always pleased to deal with a woman gifted with brains as well as beauty.”

  She felt the heat of a blush warm her cheeks. She never would have guessed Mr. Gerhard harbored respect and liking for her. His praise and warm wishes surprised the hell out of her. “Thank you Mr. Gerhard. I hadn’t realized how charming you could be.”

  Still holding her hand, Gerhard looked back at the senior partners. “I am sure I speak for both Norton and Micronsoft when I assure you we will meet your price with very little haggling.” Turning back to Moriah he cocked his head. “Be sure to keep us in mind for any future projects you might develop in our field.”

  “I’ll do that, sir.” Bemused, she automatically shook his hand before retrieving hers.

  “One more thing, Miss Morris…”

 
She cocked an eyebrow in silent query.

  “Might I be so bold as to ask what you are demanding in fees?”

  She lifted her chin and met his eyes straight on. “I asked for one point five billion dollars.”

  Clapping broke out in the room and she blinked away tears as she accepted the men’s good wishes.

  “Brava, Miss Morris!”

  “Well deserved…and well earned!”

  “Way to go!”

  With all the congratulations and praise being heaped upon her, she didn’t give a damn that Jonathans and Athencrombie abstained. She gathered her things together and excused herself, heading back to her office with all speed. She couldn’t wait to share her news with Roddy and Patricia.

  She giggled all the way down the hall.

  *****

  The door to the office flew back on its hinges and slammed into the wall behind it.

  Patricia Black looked up from her typing to see Moriah standing in the door, hands fisted at her hips in a classic superman pose. The secretary’s eyebrows rose as she noticed the look in her friend’s eyes. The woman positively glowed.

  Her gray eyes sparkling with excitement and joy, face lit up like the sun, Moriah flashed her killer smile.

  “Judging by the look on your face, I take it the demonstrations went well.”

  Giddy laughter met her query. “Girl, have I got a tale to tell you…!”

  “Go ahead, then. I can see you are bursting to share your triumph.”

  “Uh, uh,” Moriah shook her head, a dimple dancing in her cheek. “Not here. Hurry and get your time card, grab your purse and let’s get the hell out of here! I’m treating you and Roddy to lunch!”

  Closing down the computer and clearing away her unfinished work, she pointed out that if all of them left for lunch at the same time, the office would be understaffed. “In fact, there won’t be anyone here to man the desk. “

  “After today, we will no longer concern ourselves about manning the desk at Jonathans, Athencrombie and Athemay: Superior Spells and Cogent Conjurations, my good woman.”

  Patricia froze in the midst of reaching for her purse, a sick feeling crawling up her innards. “What are you saying, Moriah? I told you to get us a raise, not get us fired!”

  “Humph! I did not get us fired.”

  “Thank the goddess.”

  “We didn’t get a raise, either.”

  “No luck with the raise, huh?” she sighed. “I guess we didn’t get the upgrade in coffee, either.” Shrugging her shoulders, she flung out her hands. “Well, at least we still have a job.”

  “No, we don’t. We quit!”

  “We what…?”

  The startled scream came out garbled, choked by the panic closing off her throat. Thoughts of over-due rent and looming utility bills danced before her eyes as she whispered in shock, “Mother of Magick, Moriah…what have you done?”

  She barely registered Moriah placing her purse in her hand, or the firm palm guiding her fingers closed about the handle. That same hand tugged her through the door into the hall, where Roddy waited, grinning like a loon.

  “Okay, here’s the most important question of the day…” Moriah chirped, walking backward down the corridor, skipping every step or so. Patricia could almost see the energy pulsating through her body. Glancing over at Roddy, she raised her russet eyebrows in silent question. Has she lost it?

  Roddy shook his head, grin widening. As usual, the admiring glint in his dark brown eyes unnerved her. Flustered, she turned back to her friend, only to find Moriah eyeing her with a decidedly wicked gleam in her dancing gray orbs. Something was definitely afoot…

  “If I start your yearly salary at two hundred thousand dollars, do I get to call you Patty?”

  Her eyes crossed with shock. She clutched one hand to her heart; certain it had stopped beating, until she realized the booming in her ears was her pulse pounding in her throat. Never overlong at a loss for words, she blurted out, “That would be Patti with an ‘i’ …by cell phone, once a day and twice on Sundays.”

  Chapter Five

  Monday, October 25, 3:50 p.m. (Northwestern Division time)

  San Francisco baked under a 115-degree heat. The very air hummed, simmering with the aroma of magick.

  Coming out of the air-conditioned coolness of SF Galactic Airport the same day he had abruptly left the Northerlands, Wylder stopped dead, chuckling under his breath.

  It never failed to amuse him what one could do with enough magick and money. His magick may be on the blink, but his bank accounts were full. He had happily paid a ridiculous six figure sum to the Northwestern Division’s Government to officially stowaway on a Military Matter Transfer ship scheduled to arrive in San Francisco in the late afternoon of the same day.

  Traveling backwards across the International Dateline had given him back a day of searching. Hopefully, he would not need the extra day. With luck and blessings from the goddess, he would quickly discover the whereabouts of his elusive Morven, who must be somewhere close; he could almost feel her presence, scent her essence.

  Goddess, but the smell and taste of her pussy had been the sweetest, most succulent I had ever tasted. How have I lasted a year without her?

  Though bothersome to the extreme on one hand, her almost yearlong absence had astonished and impressed him. He already knew her to be highly intelligent, but by easily eluding the best magickal trackers and skryers, Morven Maganistus had also proven her capability and resourcefulness. He should not have been surprised. After all, it had been her intelligence, over and above her lush beauty, that had attracted him to her from the first.

  He recalled the day she had walked into his classroom, a shy, diffident first year student at Cambridge Conjuration College, a good four or five years older than the normal run of freshmen. It had been a rare, sunny day and he had immediately noticed her shining cap of mahogany curls, lit to bright fire by the rays of the mid-morning sun. Her light gray eyes set off by her beautiful dark mahogany hair sparkled with lively curiosity, lending animation and humanity to an otherwise unearthly beautiful face.

  He soon discovered she had a habit of pursing her pouty lips whenever she pondered a difficult spell or ran mental calculations. Her full, sensuous mouth, made for kissing and other things, had quickly come to figure largely in his nightly dreams.

  During the four years he had been one of her teachers and banned from making any sexual overtures, he had spent many a night palming his aching hard on, pumping it to completion while he fantasized sliding his cock between those pursed lips, feeding all eleven inches into her hot wet mouth. He dreamed of taking her slim, curvy figure to the floor, the bed, the table…anywhere…and easing his perpetually hard, thick cock into her tight, untried channel.

  For four long years, he had gone without sex, growing increasingly frustrated and angry over his inability to work up any desire for the sophisticated, worldly-wise women who flung themselves at him, eager to brag about having been fucked by the most powerful Warlock in the world, the Council’s Assassin. Before Morven, he had used those women to slake his sexual thirst, feeling no compunction about the occasional one-night stands.

  Since meeting and interacting with her, learning the intricately detailed nuances of her wonderful spirit, reveling in the depths of her almost limitless magickal potential, his wayward cock had formed different needs, come to revere a different ideal. His taste now ran to one intelligent, leggy, rangy girl-woman, slim, yet curved and rounded in all the right places.

  She walked into the classroom and he became hard.

  She spoke and his cock leaked pre-cum.

  She smiled and he faced the real danger of coming in his jeans.

  And she had not the slightest idea of his raging lust for her.

  For four years, they spent time together as student and teacher, five days a week.

  He threw a private pocket-pool party the night she had agreed to discharge her clinicals by working as his teaching assistant during her fifth y
ear. His poor cock had been raw when he finished fisting it. He had come so hard, his legs gave out and he had slumped to the floor of the shower, too weak to move.

  No longer off-limits to him romantically, he tried his hand at gently courting Morven. Having had no prior desire or experience in courting and romance, he felt lost and often frustrated at her lack of response. Because of that, he fought to rein in his escalating need for her. He ignored his churning gut, discounted the heavy weightiness of his sperm filled balls. He disregarded the way his throbbing cock ached from the constricting pinch of the tight jeans he preferred.

  Had his need been merely sexual he might not have been so concerned, but along with the desire to sink into her and fuck her into oblivion, he felt a growing, consuming urge to share his life with her totally. He wanted to reveal his inmost thoughts to her, to show her the man he hid from the rest of the world and that irresistible desire scared the hell out of him. Because, he knew, the person he hid from the rest of the world did not deserve her love.

  Despite his fears and second thoughts, he had proceeded with the torturous ritual of courting, searching for some way to gain more than her tepid respect. Finally, in a desperate, ego-defying move, he had laid aside all his labyrinthine plans and devious mechanisms to show her his tender side, revealing his heart.

  He had hoped his constant efforts had helped her begin to trust him, perhaps to love him a little. He had been wrong.

  She had been unable to hide her shocked dismay when he begged to serve as her Athame during her Graduation Opening. The significence of his request had not long escaped her. With growing dismay, he had watched her gray eyes lighten to silvery pewter as they revealed her first reaction of startled fright, then her compassionate distress at causing him hurt by her refusal. And she had adamantely refused his offer…and his proposal of marriage.