“What’s wrong?” asked Mickie. “Oh, lemonade. Thank goodness. It’s so hot in here.”
“The water pressure is all funkity-wunkity,” replied Gwyn. “Which, naturally, had to happen after Ma-the-Queen-of-Fix-it left.” She blew out a heavy sigh, staring at the lemonade eagerly.
Sam gave a final stir to the pitcher and began pouring out glasses. “I remember one year when we hit ninety degrees on St. Patrick’s Day. What was it today?”
She handed Mickie and Gwyn a glass each and took a long sip of her own lemonade.
Gwyn thumbed through her phone. “Eighty-two degrees was the high. So, yeah, nothing to complain about, I guess.”
“This is good, Sam,” said Mick, holding up her glass. “I’m afraid to ask the sugar-to-lemons ratio, but it tastes amazing.”
“It’s the Meyer lemons,” said Gwyn. “Sir Walter is very picky about his lemons.”
The three sat in lazy silence, sipping lemonade, taking second and third glasses, too hot to do anything else. After they’d finished the pitcher, Gwyn’s phone rang.
“It’s Chrétien!” she announced gleefully.
As Sam watched, Gwyn’s face went from happy to hear Chrétien’s voice to surprised at what he said to disbelief.
“Georg? Here?” demanded Gwyn, still on the phone.
Mickie’s face paled. Sam scooted closer to Gwyn. “Speaker phone,” she whispered.
But Gwyn shook her head. “I already hung up.” She just stood there with an expression Sam had seen in French class when Gwyn couldn’t remember the proper conjugation of a verb.
“Gwyn?” asked Sam. “What did Chrétien say?”
Gwyn turned to Sam, looked down at her hands, and rippled to invisibility.
43
WHAT COULD BE WRONG
Georg liked Las Abuelitas. It was small and peaceful. Perhaps he would settle down here, just to annoy his Uncle Pfeffer. He knew, of course, that he would do no such thing, as much fun as it would be. Pfeffer was still dangerous. Although, in a town full of caméleons, he would be considerably less dangerous. The thought put a smile on Georg’s face. In a world of caméleons, Pfeffer would have no need to pursue Georg and Katrin.
Owen and Raoul rejoined Georg inside the print shop, having returned from the water works.
“Ah, excellent,” said Georg. “Did you encounter any problems?”
Raoul answered. “None. There’s not even an office or any sort of watch kept upon the tower and purification system. We waited around to make sure the water tower had really taken over, which it did. The transformations in town should be underway already.”
“Which means we need to distribute the flyers,” said Georg. “We want everyone informed when they wake up to their new lives tomorrow.” He smiled softly. He was doing it. He was doing it. His name would go down in history in a blaze of glory. And Katrin would see he’d been right.
“Georg,” said Owen, consulting his cell phone again. “There’s something else. Sanyim contacted me and we spoke briefly. He says he can’t vanish. He says it’s been getting more difficult for weeks, and now he can’t vanish at all. He wants us to … to fix him.”
Georg frowned. “He can’t vanish? Why ever not?”
Owen shrugged. “He doesn’t know. He said he was in San Francisco, trying to find you at the old Geneses building. You said something to him about traveling to California, I gather? He sounded desperate, so I told him where to find us.”
Georg’s brows knit together. “I don’t understand what could be wrong.”
“I thought we could run some tests. That’s why I asked him to join us,” said Owen.
“Yes,” said Georg. “Yes, indeed. For now, however, we have an urgent task. We can’t allow the residents of this town to remain in ignorance of their condition.”
“This part is going to take longer than the distribution of the serum,” grumbled Raoul.
“Yes,” snapped Georg. “But next time, we won’t need to hand out flyers. Our flyers have already begun to show up online. Now that two communities have been treated, you can be certain the information will be disseminated for us in every language on the planet.”
Raoul grunted in what Georg assumed was approval.
The group vanished and began making their way through the town’s residences following Georg’s orders.
As Georg drifted through walls from house to house, he left flyers in centrally located positions inside each dwelling. And whenever he saw someone brushing their teeth or drinking a glass of water, he smiled and thought of how outraged Waldhart de Rochefort would be on his return.
44
UNHEALTHY OBSESSION
Katrin stared out the opening of the makeshift hospital tent at the stars blazing in the night sky. She didn’t like the thought that kept returning as Pfeffer and Martina discussed the threat to Las Abuelitas. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t get rid of it.
She had to talk to Georg. If Georg would listen to anyone, it would be her; she wasn’t blind to his feelings for her, however much she wanted to be.
“We’re spread thin,” Martina was saying, “but honestly, I think some of you need to travel to Las Abuelitas. Pfeffer, I’d ask you to stay here as the only physician with any experience in this condition.”
Pfeffer emitted a small affirmative grunt. “Given time, I’m in hopes we can place Immutin in soap dispensers at the hand washing stations, in combination with an agent that delivers through the skin.”
“Like what Fritz and Georg were doing,” said Katrin.
“Precisely,” replied Pfeffer.
Katrin made her decision and turned to face the others. “You have to let me go to Georg,” she said firmly. Then, her voice softer, she added, “I’m the only person he might listen to. If I can force him to look at the horror he’s unleashing, I’m sure he’ll agree this can’t continue.”
She wasn’t as sure as she sounded, but she knew the way to appeal to Georg was to force him to look at individuals rather than humankind, and she thought she was the only one who could engage him in conversation long enough for that to happen.
“Perhaps,” said Pfeffer. “Perhaps. But I won’t have you go only to have him put you to sleep again.”
“Can’t you fix her?” demanded Martina. “Like you were able to fix me so that the passwords no longer work?”
“Yes,” said Pfeffer. “Yes, of course. I can replace the post-hypnotic suggestion and eliminate that sort of threat, but you would still be in danger, Katrin.”
“I know. But I’m the only one Georg will listen to. You all know this is true.”
Martina sighed and didn’t object. Pfeffer frowned and placed his hands on his hips.
“Are you certain?” asked Pfeffer.
Katrin nodded. “And please don’t tell Skandor until after I’m gone,” said Katrin quietly. “Trust me when I say Skandor’s presence around Georg will make my job a lot harder.”
“Georg always had an unhealthy obsession with you,” said Martina. She turned to Pfeffer. “With Hansel gone, I think Katrin’s right. She’s the only person who has any chance of getting through that thick skull of his.”
Pfeffer nodded.
Just then, Chrétien materialized in the tent.
“It has begun,” said Chrétien. “My dear wife has just contacted me to say she can vanish.”
Pfeffer dropped his chin to his chest and cradled his forehead with one hand.
“Mickie, as well,” said Chrétien to Pfeffer. “Moreover, Georg’s thoughts are still present in the village, the, ah, town. Sam reports he seems distressed. Mon père wishes me to depart at once. I can be there within three hours, just after midnight their time.”
“That’s impossible from here,” said Katrin.
“It’s not,” replied Martina. “Chrétien travels very fast. And he can travel that fast with other people in tow.”
Katrin turned to Chrétien. “Take me with you.”
45
FATE OF HUMANI
TY
Although the flyers had been distributed and it was time to move on to their next target, Georg had decided to remain in Las Abuelitas until Sanyim arrived. He considered sending the team ahead, but he didn’t like the idea of his Angels acting without his guidance. He would keep them here as well. They stood, gathered around him, awaiting his instructions. But he wasn’t ready to address them yet.
What did it mean that Sanyim could no longer vanish? Was there something wrong with the formula or something wrong with Sanyim? The formula had worked perfectly. Was this some trickery of de Rochefort’s? Georg shook his head, trying to hold on to the difference between a rational and an irrational fear.
So why was it happening? And would it happen to all those Georg had already transformed? He envisioned the crumbling to dust of his lofty goals and dreams, and he shuddered. He would not fail. He could not fail. The fate of humanity rested in his keeping.
“Georg!”
It was Raoul. Georg looked up to meet Raoul’s gaze. Raoul looked irritated, as though he’d already called Georg’s name several times. Probably, he had.
“Are we departing or aren’t we?” demanded Raoul. “If we’re sticking to our schedule, we need to move on. We can’t treat two towns a day if we don’t—”
“Yes, yes,” Georg said, interrupting Raoul. “I’m well aware that remaining here sets us back. But I’ve decided I must examine Sanyim.”
“Georg,” said Owen, “one of the dwellings I passed through had a sophisticated laboratory. I nosed around, and I’m sure it belongs to Uncle Pfeffer.”
Georg felt relief pour through him. What he most needed to do right now was to analyze Sanyim’s blood, and here was the perfect opportunity. Pfeffer was gone; his lab beckoned. Sanyim would arrive well before Sir Walter or Pfeffer could find a flight out of the Bahamas. Yes. It would be safe.
“We stay,” said Georg. “We’ll await Sanyim at Pfeffer’s laboratory.”
46
WE CAN THANK HIM FOR HIS PARANOIA
“Gwyn! Focus,” said Sam. “This is important.”
Gwyn had spent the last two minutes repeatedly rippling and coming solid in rapid succession.
Gwyn materialized beside the empty lemonade pitcher. “I know. I know. It’s just so amazing.” She turned to Mickie. “I can’t believe you aren’t trying it.”
“Once was enough,” muttered Mick. “And Sam’s right. We have to focus. Lives could be at stake.”
Gwyn rolled her eyes dramatically. “I seriously doubt that. For one thing, there’s nothing worth stealing in Las Abuelitas.”
“Gwyn,” snapped Mickie, “think about what you just said. Was there anything worth stealing on Santa Maria de los Milagros after the hurricanes? No. Are people stealing and murdering over possessions? Yes.”
Gwyn’s face paled. “Okay. Okay. So what do we do?”
Sam spoke first. “We could contact whoever’s in charge of the water tower and get it … turned off or drained or whatever.”
“I’m on it,” said Mick, turning back to her computer.
“Although,” said Sam, “we should assume most people will have already brushed their teeth or taken a shower or whatever by the time the water tower issue is addressed.”
“Right,” said Mick. “Which means our focus has to be to protect the most vulnerable—”
“Children!” cried Gwyn. “Children who can ripple can get into all kinds of trouble. Oh no, no, no! We’ve got to do something.”
Sam thought about it. Gwyn was right. A toddler who vanished could decide to come solid anywhere.
“I’ve sent a message to the Volunteer Fire Fighters,” said Mick. “I linked them to reports from Milagros so they know what they’re facing. Hold on. I’m gonna CC the police on this, too.”
“Mickie,” began Sam, “does Pfeffer keep vials or syringes or whatever of Neuroplex sitting around? Could we administer that to children?”
“Good thinking,” replied Mick as she hit send on another message. “Yes. We have hundreds of the doses prepared. Pfeffer’s a little … proactive when it comes to being ready for anything. I’ve given him a ton of grief for it, but I guess we can thank him for his paranoia.”
“Good,” said Sam. “Let’s go gather what we can.”
47
THE PEOPLE I LOVE
Will faced Sir Walter, Skandor, and Matteo with determination. Those of the remaining group who were able had gathered for a middle of the night meeting to discuss where things stood on the island.
Things had settled down enough that Sir Walter was considering returning to Las Abuelitas to assist Chrétien and Katrin.
“But only if you are certain you can do without me,” he said to Matteo.
“I’m sorry,” Will said. “But I have to go to Las Abs, too. I can’t stay here when my sister and … and … when the people I love are in danger. It’s selfish, but that’s just the way it is. I want to go with Sir Walter.”
Matteo nodded. “We understand. You’ve done so much already. Go.”
Sir Walter turned to Skandor. “And you?” he asked. “Do you wish also to depart?”
Skandor’s forehead furrowed. “All I’d want to do would be punch Georg’s face in. Katrin was right to go without me. I’d be a hindrance. I can’t help her with what she’s got to do. I think I should stay here and help Pfeffer with the antidotes.”
“We must obtain more antidotes,” said Sir Walter, “Which provides another reason for our departure; there is an abundant supply in Las Abuelitas, and, moreover, the means to manufacture additional amounts.” He turned to Will. “I believe we can travel more swiftly together.”
Will barked out a single laugh. “Yeah. You’re still faster than me, old man. I admit it.” Will turned to Skandor. “But … are you sure, man? Really sure? You and Katrin just found each other again….”
“I’m sure,” replied Skandor. “Oma has given me an earful this past year about great gifts and great responsibilities. She’d expect me to stay here and help out. Go on. Get going and stop Georg before he can do any more damage.”
Will nodded and took Sir Walter’s hand and the two vanished.
48
THEY TRUST YOUR MOM
Sam had to admit, it was darned handy having Mickie and Gwyn able to ripple. The three sped invisibly to Pfeffer’s lab to gather all the Neuroplex and Immutin they could find. It felt so good to be active. To be doing something.
“At this point, we might as well take both drugs,” said Sam. “Either will give us the upper hand when it comes to endangered children.”
Mick nodded in agreement, producing a large canvas shopping bag which Gwyn held wide while Sam and Mick emptied the shelves.
“Count as you go,” said Mick, who was counting by two’s as she swept the serum into Gwyn’s bag.
There were two cupboards with Neuroplex and only one shelf of one cupboard with Immutin.
“I counted eighty-six,” said Sam.
Mick nodded. “I got one hundred seventeen, which makes….”
“Two hundred and three,” said Gwyn.
“Times two, since we won’t be giving full doses to children,” said Mick.
“Four hundred and six,” said Gwyn. “The elementary school has two hundred seventy-seven students this year and the pre-school has thirty-six and the Baby-n-Me club has seven infants, so we’re good.”
“I’m sorry, but how do you know this?” asked Mickie, astonished.
Gwyn rolled her eyes. “Ma invites the school to send kids to the bakery for a field trip every year. And Baby-n-Me meets at the café Thursdays at 4:00 on my shift.”
“So we’re covered,” said Sam. “Plus a buffer if anyone identifies other family members that are at a higher risk for harming themselves.”
“What about syringes?” asked Gwyn, looking around.
Sam felt her stomach tighten. She hated needles. “It’s not going to be easy convincing children to sit still for a shot.”
“We’ll promis
e them cookies. Like when Fritz came through with his flu vaccine,” Gwyn said grimly.
“We won’t need to,” said Mickie. “The drugs don’t have to be administered via syringe and needle. We can swab their noses and it will be just as effective. The syringes were just more useful in a fight, according to Pfeffer.”
“Huh,” said Gwyn. “So how are we going to set this up?” She consulted her watch. “It’s 8:30 at night now, so most people are home. I was thinking we could sound the emergency siren, and then the volunteer fire fighters could make an announcement using that big old microphone on the fire truck.”
Sam shook her head in disagreement. “Who do people in this town trust the most?”
“The police?” asked Gwyn.
“No,” said Sam. “They trust your mom. This town loves and respects Bridget Li.”
“She’s right,” said Mickie, looking at Sam with admiration. “Bridget Li should be the one to get everyone’s attention. The fire department has never heard of, much less dealt with, rippling.”
Sam looked over to Gwyn, and Gwyn nodded in agreement.
“Plus,” said Sam, “the café is as centrally located as possible. If there’s a loud ruckus happening on Main Street, it’ll get the news out faster.”
“And the sight of Ma’s cookies will get those noses swabbed a whole lot faster,” agreed Gwyn.
The three took hands and vanished together, racing to the Las Abuelitas Bakery Café.
49
DISRUPTION
Georg couldn’t help the frisson of fear that ran through him as they entered Pfeffer’s dwelling.
“Through here,” said Owen, coming solid first.
The others joined him, Georg last of all, somehow certain Pfeffer would be lurking in a corner, waiting with a syringe of Immutin in hand. He shoved his fears aside and strode into the center of the room, hands on his hips.
“Impressive,” said Georg, looking around at the equipment. The place had been left in a hurry. Several cupboards stood open. Georg imagined Pfeffer as he raced off, armed to the teeth but already too late to stop Georg’s plan.
Perilous: A Ripple Novel (Ripple Series Book 7) Page 18
