Dr. Lanson bent close to her, eyes glittering with malevolence.
"Game over," she hissed.
Alex tugged feebly with her pinned gun-hand. When the doctor's eyes shifted, Alex grasped her belt buckle with her left hand, sliding the knife free. Her left arm jerked upward. More of a spasm than a strike. The knife's four-inch blade beat Lanson's defensive hand-raise by an eye-blink, slashing into the side of her neck. Blood sprayed into Alex's eyes. The doctor fell away, clutching her throat, dropping to one knee in the grass.
Alex dragged her body upright on the bench, lifting her pistol. Dr. Lanson was hunched over, hacking, blood spurting out between her fingers. Didn't have to be a doctor to know she'd struck a carotid artery. Lanson probably now had less time than she did.
Alex was about to place a round in her head when the doctor slumped sideways, arms flopping to her side. Down and out. Alex pushed off the bench and crawled on her knees, her heart racing from more than excitement. She had to get to her cell phone, which she'd seen Lanson slip into her butt pack. She climbed onto the woman's thighs, partly pinning her, while Lanson gazed up at her with forlorn, hollow eyes. Conscious enough to know what was happening. To know she'd lost. Alex smiled as their gazes locked.
"Looks like you're the one," she coughed, "who will be rotting in the ground...bitch."
Teetering on the woman's muscular thighs, Alex unzipped the fanny pack and pried out her cell. Through a haze, she found her favorites and tapped 911/Emergency.
"911 Dispatch."
The eerily calm voice penetrated the fuzz in her brain like a schizophrenic's delusional voices – or the indifferent word of God.
"Potassium chloride." Even with her heart bursting, Alex knew that was the critical piece of information. "I've been poisoned."
"You've been poisoned with potassium chloride?"
"Yes..."
"We have you in Lake Manor Park? Is that correct?"
The phone had slipped from Alex's fingers. She heard the question, but it was from another world, beyond answering. She gazed up at the sky, now turning an ominous, funereal shade blue. No searing regret, no flash of her life before her eyes. No energy for that. Death was far more peaceful and angst-free than she'd expected.
At least this particular death.
Chapter 25
IT SEEMED TO TAKE an incredibly long time to wake up. Alex imagined centuries passing in her sleep. She was grateful and a little surprised to be waking up. Yet she took it for granted, too, because that was what consciousness does: it expects to awaken.
Alex was a bit more surprised to find herself in her bedroom lying on her own bed, sunlight streaming in from the windows. Somehow, the unavoidable hospital stay had slipped her mind, along with the protracted recovery. Recovering from a chemically induced heart attack couldn't be an easy thing.
She sat up and stretched her arms cautiously. Still no hint of pain or even discomfort. She felt great, better than usual, ready to conquer the world! Had a miracle occurred during her slumbers? She went to her bathroom, relieved herself, and washed her face, resisting the draw of the shower. She didn't feel dirty or hungry or thirsty. Her body felt oddly clean, sated, and at peace.
She threw on some shorts and a shirt and sauntered out of her room. The place had the stillness of when her mom was at work, and the wall clock over the kitchen table read 10, but then the rear sliding glass door opened and her mom entered. Her eyes popped to saucer-size and a grin split her face.
"Baby!"
She charged across the room, her arms spread wide. Alex caught her and held on as her mom squeezed the air from her lungs and moaned like a wounded animal into her shoulder. She pulled back, tears glistening in her eyes – her mom who'd barely cried even when Dad had died – and she caressed Alex's face with both hands and kissed her forehead with rare fervor.
"What's up, Mom?" Alex asked.
"I'm just glad to see you. Can't a mother be glad to see her daughter?"
"Right. But you're acting like you haven't seen me for decades."
"Well, you have been kind of out of it for a while."
"Could you define 'out of it' and 'a while'?"
"It means you've been a near-vegetative state. Nothing wrong with you, really, just recovering from the attack on your own schedule. We took you home after some time in the hospital and have been caring for you here."
"Who's been caring for me? Not you alone, I assume."
"Oh, nurses. Periodic doctor visits. And of course I've been here keeping an eye on you. Brandon and Bradley have checked in. Even your Professor Martin has been here."
Alex stared at her. Her mom's smile and eyes radiated joy – the kind of joy you'd expect when your daughter survived an attempted murder – but there was something else, too, a rigidity to her features, defensiveness in her posture...and the sickly unsweet odor of bullshit.
"I'm sensing some logical issues here, Mom," she said.
"Oh, you and your damn logic." Cindy's smile curled down for a moment before springing back up, Jack-in-the-Box-like. "Why don't you sit down in the kitchen? Let me get you something to eat?"
"Okay."
Alex didn't feel hungry, but it was a necessary morning ritual. Her mom busied herself in the kitchen, measuring and dispensing ingredients in the precise and controlled manner of a laboratory scientist. Alex looked out the sliding glass door at the freshly cut lawn and manicured rose bushes. Rose.
"What happened to the charming Dr. Lanson?" she asked. "I assume she died."
"Yes. Her carotid was severed. She bled out."
"Right." Alex appreciated that she didn't say, "You slit her throat." She rubbed her own throat, frowning, reliving that moment for a few tight breaths. "I assume the police figured out what happened since I'm not behind bars right now."
"They found a dart gun and two darts filled with potassium chloride in her waist pack. And your friends filled in the critical details – your conflicts with her in the Omniverse. I didn't know many details – you didn't see fit to confide in me much, as you know – but Brandon revealed how you went to confront Dr. Lanson in St. Louis and Professor Martin disclosed that you hired a private detective who later went missing. His body was found, by the way, in the Mississippi river. The police initially ruled he'd drowned after suffering a heart attack, which they revised to murder after what happened here."
Alex nodded numbly.
"Incidentally, the County Attorney decided not to prosecute you for illegally carrying a concealed weapon," her mom added in brittle tones.
Alex lowered her head. "Good."
"It could've all gone very differently, you know."
"I know."
"Could I ask you something?"
Alex sighed. "Yes, Mom."
"What in bloody hell were you thinking?" Her mom's mouth trembled with barely suppressed emotion. "I don't want you to think I'm not incredibly grateful that you're alive, but my God, Alex...your judgment was appalling. It was as if you'd lost the distinction between your exploits in the Verse and the real world."
Alex bit her lower lip and said nothing. When Cindy spoke again, her tone had mellowed.
"The police have been investigating her," she said. "They've found a trail of suspicious deaths mostly involving people with physical or mental disabilities –heart attack listed as the cause. Some bodies were exhumed which had excessive potassium. The theory is that she was acting out some Angel of Death fantasy." Cindy paused. "Did she say anything to you about that?"
"Yeah. She said she was ridding the world of inferior people." Alex snorted. "Too bad she didn't apply that rule to herself."
Her mom set a plate of eggs, bacon, and buckwheat pancakes in front of her. She massaged Alex's shoulders briefly before settling down across the table.
"You went up against a serial killer," she said. "A highly intelligent and apparently skilled serial killer. Unlike that nurse they arrested a few years ago, Dr. Lanson was subtle, spreading out her murders. She moved around, pra
cticing in three different states, covering her tracks well. The police guess she may have killed as many as forty individuals, but that they probably never would've caught her if she'd maintained that pattern."
"They never would've caught her if the Verse hadn't pointed me in her direction," said Alex. "They knew about her. They probably know about others."
"I asked Wendell Martin about that. He said he couldn't say."
Neither confirm nor deny. "No. That would go against their most cherished rule – what happens in the Verse stays in the Verse."
Her mother stared at her a few interminable seconds with such sad eyes that Alex longed to be somewhere far away.
"You know how close you came to joining Dr. Lanson?" she asked, just above a whisper.
"I have an idea it was pretty fucking close."
Her mom bowed her head briefly. When she lifted her gaze, her eyes were hard.
"You'll never do that again, will you? Never bring your VR games into reality?"
Alex feigned an indifferent shrug. "I'd guess not."
"Guess?"
Alex shrugged again. Her mom's eyes narrowed. Alex imagined them spurting flame.
"On another subject," she said, "Wendell Martin told me he'd arranged an alternate course to finish my schooling and attain my much-vaunted degree in virtual gaming design."
"Yes. He mentioned something about that. He didn't offer any details."
"Not to me, either."
Alex picked at her food. It tasted even blander than usual.
"Now, about the question you're avoiding," she said, "exactly how long was I in this so-called 'vegetative state'?"
She noted the shimmer of discomfort in her mom's face before her eyes flicked away, reluctantly returning to meet Alex's steadfast stare.
"You look like you're about to tell me, 'Brace yourself, dear. You're now in the twenty-third century.' But if that were true, I think you'd look a bit older."
"Ha. Um, no." Cindy smiled a wincing smile and batted her hair. "Not quite that long."
Alex stared at her and waited.
"Okay, well...a few months," said her mom.
"Months?"
Cindy lifted her shoulders in helpless offering.
"If that were true, I wouldn't be walking around," said Alex, feeling a frisson of dawning fear. "I'd require weeks of rehab, at a minimum."
"Well, you had the best care, and, um, they used some special, cutting edge technology."
Alex passed several seconds regarding her mother with a droll expression.
"Mom," she said, "you may not be aware of this but you really suck at dissembling."
After a beat, Cindy gave her a resigned smile. "You should probably talk to your mentor about this."
"You mean Professor Martin? Why, is he my doctor now?"
"In a sense."
"I wonder what it would take to get a straight answer out of you."
"Baby, please do us both a favor and call him. He can give you a far better explanation than I can."
THE ROOM was cool and semi-dark – late-twilight on a summer's eve. A single metal casket-like chamber lay near one wall on a platform that changed its elevation and angle periodically. Brandon, Brad, Cindy Mills, and Wendell Martin stood gazing down at the unconscious young woman enclosed within the casket. Multi-colored tubes ran from her nose and arms. A crown of glowing and blinking electronic panels and orbs rested upon her shaved head. Black goggles covered her eyes. A maze of sensor readings filled a big-screen monitor on a nearby stand.
Another even larger monitor on the other side of the casket showed the assemblage what Alex was seeing. Now, the screen was black.
"She's asleep," said Wendell Martin, nodding to the undulating tangle of lines on the sensor monitor. "At first, she won't be able to stay conscious for too long. She'll experience it as being sleepy or tired."
"I'm surprised she hasn't figured out what's happening already," said Brandon.
"It won't be long," said Cindy. "If I know my daughter."
Wendell Martin nodded. "Our psychologists believe it would be best to introduce awareness of her situation slowly. That's why we carved out a familiar piece of reality within the Parallel US. However, I agree with Dr. Mills. She'll notice the irregularities soon enough."
"I suggested she call you, Professor Martin." Cindy shot him a half-apologetic look. "I hope that's okay."
"Perfectly okay."
"How long will she have to be in there, Professor?" Brad asked, his face lined with grief.
"None of our doctors seem quite clear about that," said Wendell. "The estimates range from months to years."
"Aside from damage to her heart, which these miracle-workers have managed to mostly restore," Cindy said to Brad and Brandon, "there was damage to her cerebral chord and brainstem, and further complications because of her condition." A tremor ticked below one eye. "Her brain is mostly working fine, but at this moment, she's effectively paralyzed."
"Damn," said Brandon. "But she has no sense of that? In there, she feels normal?"
"As far as I can tell." Cindy gave him a faint smile. "She's just as much of a pain in the butt as ever."
Brandon was smiling with her. "Good to hear."
Brad was keeping his own counsel, staring at Alex's partly shrouded face, his jaw working. "I want to see her."
"Stand in line, dude," said Brandon, a harsh light in his eyes. "You don't even own a VR rig, do you?"
"Professor Martin's been letting me practice with an AFIRM at their facility in Sacramento," said Brad. "I'm nowhere your level, but I can get around in the Verse okay."
"Didn't she dust your ass when you proposed to her?"
Cindy turned on Brad. "You proposed to her? Alex never mentioned that."
"She probably didn't consider it worth mentioning." Brad glowered at the floor, flecks of red sprouting up along his jaw. "But we're still friends."
Cindy placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. Her daughter could be brutal when it came to matters of the heart. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy.
"Alex could use all her friends right now," she said.
ALEX ROUSED her torpid body from yet another nap. The daylight outside demanded action, but though she was clear-headed while awake, her waking periods didn't last long enough to get anything done. She'd once imagined her life condensing to shorter and shorter periods of energy and lucid thinking until her days consisted of a few hours and then minutes of consciousness. She'd watched it happen to her elderly grandmother, who by ninety spent more and more of her days in snoring slumber (the other half irritably expressing a desire to nap). Stephen Hawking's life was paradise compared to that.
She checked her cell phone. No texts or messages. Odd. She would've thought Bran, at least, would be bugging her. She stirred her bowl of coconut milk and organic fruit-granola cereal while summoning her Favorites. Her mom had recommended talking to Wendell Martin about what had happened. So be it. She tapped his name.
"Ah, Alexandra," he greeted her. "It's good to hear from you."
"Good morning, Professor Martin."
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Except for a tendency to zone out every hour or two."
"Understandable. Your body took quite a hit. It will take some time to fully recover, I understand."
"You realize that only moments after we finished talking about Dr. Evil she showed up."
"I do. It was if we'd summoned her. I'm grateful you chose to arm yourself."
"I started carrying everywhere just after receiving her threatening email."
"Everywhere? Does that include on campus?"
"Yep."
"I trust that practice will not continue?"
"Why would it? No one's after me now – that I know of. I assume the police confiscated my handgun?"
"Very much so. They even entertained the possibility of prosecuting you for possession of a concealed and unregistered firearm. Fortunately, some modicum of commonsense prevailed."
"Lucky me."
"Especially lucky to have survived that encounter. Dr. Lanson was, apparently, quite a formidable woman. She had considerable martial arts and weapons training, as it turned out."
"I'm not surprised." Alex had to give herself a mental congratulatory slap on the shoulder. "Hard to believe I took her down. But then she wasn't expecting me to be armed. And she made the classic TV villain mistake of blabbing too much."
"Did she explain herself at all?"
"She claimed to be saving society from genetic deterioration by killing 'inferior' people. Maybe she started with such 'noble' motives, but I think she began getting off on it. She didn't dare risk too many murders in the Real so she took her act to the Verse."
"Ah," said Wendell. "Puzzling why someone of such intelligence and ability, capable of so much good, would resort to such mindless destruction."
"Right." What a fucking waste of a good, healthy body. Alex sighed. "Anyway, I have some questions my mom was reluctant to answer, and she suggested you might have those answers..."
"Why don't you come down to my office and we'll talk? I also wanted to discuss resuming your final course of study and your plans for the future."
"Sounds good. Are you there now?"
"I am. If you could come now, the timing would be excellent."
"I think I can make that work." She glanced around, pricking her ears. No sign of her mom, but there was still the extra car. "See you soon."
"I'll be here."
On the way to the garage, she heard a noise in her mom's study and peeked in. Her mom was poised in front of her computer staring at the screen, which now displayed a flower-garden screen saver.
The Goddess Quest Page 39
