"Ego deum genus esse semper dixi et dicam caelitum, sed eos non curare opinor quid agat humanum genus; nam si curent, bene bonis sit, male malis; quod nunc abest." (I have always said and will go on saying, there is a race of gods in heaven, but I do not believe that they concern themselves with what the human race is doing; for if they did, good men would fare well, and bad men ill, which is not the case now)

Ennius, "Telamo." Used without permission.
 

MICHAEL:

God, I hate this.

I can sort of escape when I'm at school, but not totally. I'm still worried about my dad.

Course, who I should really worry about are the poor suckers that have to take care of him, but I can't help it.

Martha gave me the 411 before we left, but I couldn't help it, I called again, not that I don't think Martha'd lie to me, but I just, you know, had to hear it for myself.

He's doing okay. I just hope he can come home tomorrow.

I'm gonna be a little late for chem so I can call again after bio lecture.

It's just about time for bio lecture to be over.

I'm getting pretty good at this stuff. Well, my teacher thinks I am. Dr. Johnson's really been shoving me along. She thinks I'm good, real good.

Finally, time to cut out. I'm about to be gone when I hear her call me.

"Michael, do you have a minute?"

"Uh-not really, got another class," I mumble.

"When are you free?"

"Um, not till after twelve, then I gotta tutor..." maybe I can be late for tutoring, if she signs me off. "Like could you sign me in if I'm late for tutoring?"

"Sure, no problem. Come to my office. I'd like to talk to you."

Wonder what this is about. She's talked about recommending me for some stuff...I just hope it's still good news.

I can use good news. Always.
 

FROHIKE:

"C'mon, Mr. Frohike. Up."

"What?"   I was just getting more or less comfortable, and Julia Child is on. The one bright spot in my day, and they're conspiring to fuck it up.

Gizzie may be Martha's best girlfriend, but I'm going to strangle that woman first chance I get. I swear she's doing this just to torture me.

I'm not exactly dressed to appear in public, either.

"Mr. Frohike? Let's go."

I don't think so.

I don't move. Ever tried to walk when you're tubed up? It's a pain. Even more so when your ass is hanging out.

"Mr. Frohike, you can either get out of bed, or you can spend more time with us."

I check this woman's name badge. Joyce McHenry. Small woman, soft voice...

Manner of a drill sergeant I had.

"Not dressed like this."

"Fine, here's your robe."

And how the hell am I supposed to get this on?

Martha would have taken care of this. She'd have been gentle about it, too.

Well, I thought my leg was feeling better-at least until I put my weight on it.

I'm waiting for the day when I don't have to think about this damn thing.

"Mr. Frohike, I don't have all day."

Well, I do, and you can just wait till I'm good and ready.
 

LANGLY:

Haven't seen the prick yet. This is great. I don't mind being at work when I can actually get work done. And without him bellowing at me every five minutes to cure cancer in the next hour, I knock off the first batch of stuff I get in two hours. I'll probably get more soon, but in the meantime, time for a little sidework. And not like you do in restaurants.

I was a waiter one time when I was in college and needed some bucks. I lasted about two weeks. I figured I was kind of unsuited for the job when somebody bitched about their meal and I went and spilled a drink on them. You know, accidentally on purpose.

Sorry, not much of a people person, that's me. I mean, I need some people around me, people I trust, who I'm close to and like. I don't have time for anybody else.

Good thing, too. Around here, like nobody ever talks to each other. We're all just in our little closets-cum-offices, we do our stuff till they let us out, it's like we could all be robots. I mean, I miss having the guys in the pit like we had over at the Pent, made the day go a lot faster, and I really miss having somebody like Sheridan to work for.

The work here's fine. It's the people that suck. But guess you can't have everything.

Knock at my door. Can't be the prick-he never knocks. Just barges in here.

Not like it matters. Everything here's videotaped. We're always under surveillance here. Every now and then I make sure I give the cameras the finger.

"Yeah?"

"Um, could I come in?"

Huh?

Don't even recognize the voice.

I answer the door-least this person has manners enough not to just walk in. And it gives me time to put my own toys away.

"Um, hi, I'm Charles Boyd." Kind of a medium-sized guy, brown hair, a few years younger than me. Seems like he's even more socially inept than me.

"Yeah, I'm Langly."

"I saw your nameplate."

Nameplate?

"They put one up. You didn't see it?"

"Guess that means they're not ready to fire me, damn."

He laughs, a little bit nervously though.

"I was...wondering...if you would...like to have lunch with me."

I don't know this guy from Adam, but hell, lunch can't hurt. It's just so weird to have somebody actually be friendly around here, I'm sort of in shock.

"Sure, why not?"

"Around 1?"

"Fine."

"All right." He closes the door behind him.

Weirdness.
 

Seeing as his royal highness the dickhead isn't around yet (I don't even bother asking, why look a gift horse in the mouth?), I call Ally. Hey, don't normal people call their wives once in a while?

Plus, I want her to do something for me.

"Hey."

"Hey, they're letting you call home once in a while?"

"Got a phone now. Might as well use it. Hey, the big cat's away today."

"Must be a good day."

"Not bad for a Monday. Hey, can you do something for me?"

"What do you need?"

"Tell you what, I'll e-mail you. Go on line, wait for me. I'll tell you then." Sometimes Ally doesn't look at her e-mail till night time, I want her to check it now.

"Okay."

Once she's done it, I'll sweep my disk here. I figured out how to do it here. It's harder than doing it on our systems in the office, but I can do it.

And she should be able to do what I tell her pretty easy. Ally's a smart girl, and it's not real complicated.

Five minutes later I get an e-mail. "I'm on line. Talk to me." She gives a smiley face and an A. So I know it's her.

I start sending her stuff. I give her a number, she knows it means that's how many data files she should get. They're all encrypted different, but I can tell from how I keyed them which algorithm works where. Hey, that's my job.

Five minutes or so later (feels more like five hours-I'm good, but it's still nervewracking as hell), I get the same number back from her.

She got it all.

Good deal. That's my girl.

And it's getting pretty close to lunchtime.

Let's see what old Charles wants.

I know, that sounds real cynical like. But I mean, around here, you trust no one. Everybody's suspect.

But might be nice not to eat alone for a change.
 

MICHAEL:

Bio and chem lectures are done. Normally I'd head for the tutoring center now, but Dr. Johnson wants to talk to me, and she's gonna get me in, so I'm covered, I think. I mean, Debbie will probably have a crying jag, but that's just the way it is with her.

She's in her office, which is real tiny. I hope the prof gets a better office than this. Well, he's at a university, not a JC, and he's also the department chair.

And right now, the lucky fucker is in the Caribbean.

I hate him.

"Hi, Michael, sit down." She motions me to her one plastic guest chair.

And her computer is crap. It's got to be at least two years old.

Yeah, we can spend a fucking fortune on B-2 bombers, but give a professor a decent computer? Nope, no money for that.

Sucks. And it's getting worse.

"You wanted to see me about something." I like her, and I like talking to her, but even if she signs me in, I don't get paid for time I'm not there.

"Yes, I did. You've done exceedingly well in my class."

"Thanks."

"The class average is 68. Yours is 94. I don't see that much."

"Uh-huh."

"The University of Maryland. Have you looked into it?"

"Not really. I live in Virginia. I was thinking I'd have to stay in state. Not like I have much money." I mean, just being in-state, I have no idea how I'm gonna pay for it, anyway.

"Well, most of my students who do well are here for that reason. I think you should consider applying for your upper division there."

"Isn't it harder if you're out of state?"

"I don't think you'll have a problem if your grades are good. What's your GPA?"

"Uh-right now, it's 4.0."

She looks mildly impressed.

"I think you'd have a good chance. Have you decided on a major?"

"Um-well, I was thinking about declaring premed."

"I think that's fine. Very good."

"So why do you think I should go there?" I really don't know anything about the place.

She gives me a smile. "Well, for one thing, my husband is on the admissions committee for life sciences."

Oh-ho.

"I've told him about you."

"Really."

"He says you should apply. And you need to do it soon. December 15 is the cut-off date."

"Um, like, what do I do about paying for it if I get in?"

"Well, since you've decided to declare a life sciences major, I can now recommend you for two scholarships. And I'm going to."

Huh?

"One is for $15,000, one is for $5,000. That should cover your tuition, books and lab fees for your upper division, at least most of it."

"You really think I could get this?"

"I wouldn't recommend you if I didn't think you stood a good chance."

"Wow." My head is swimming. This is like, is this for real? Me, Michael Frohike, being recommended for something?

Unbelievable.

"You need to get an application-you can get it on line-and you need to formally declare your major. I have the scholarship applications, and you'll need to fill them out yourself-you need to write a personal essay as to why you should get this money."

Oh, shit.

Well, maybe Casey can help me. She thinks I write good.

"And I'll write a letter of recommendation, and you need one from one other faculty member. Who's your chemistry instructor?"

"Martinson."

"And you must be getting an A if you have a 4.0."

"So far."

"Harold should have no trouble. And I'll talk to him."

I don't believe this is happening. This is totally incredible.

"We're only recommending one other student for this, besides yourself."

"Who is it?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Wouldn't be Kelly Martin, would it?"

"Do you know Kelly?"

"Sort of...she's my fiancee."

She breaks into a big smile. "I had no idea."

"Well, she is. We're getting married after we finish upper division."

"Well, that's wonderful. Congratulations."

Best part is, this lady means it.

"I've seen you talking with her, now that I think about it, but if I had to keep track of every couple in my classes, I'd need a scorecard."

"Hey, we didn't expect you to know it. We don't talk to that many people around here. We're kind of busy."

"I imagine so. Anyway, Michael, here's the paperwork, you'll need to get the rest. And bring it to me before you send it off."

"Um-like, thanks a lot..." What do you say when something like this happens?

I mean, this is so cool...and I'm like feeling like I'll wake up and I'll be dreaming it...

Wow. Somebody thinks I'm good.

Incredible.

I can't wait. I gotta tell Kelly. And Dad.

Shit! I can't tell Dad right now!

Damn!
 

ALLY:

I've downloaded the things my darling husband has asked me to do, backed them up, and stowed them in the safe in the office. I'd like to say this doesn't make me a bit nervous, but I'd be lying.

Still, he seemed cool about it, and he does know what he's doing. Generally.

I'm getting ready to take Patrick to Azani's when the phone rings. Not that this is unusual, but ever since Lydia was taken, I've never felt the same about a ringing phone. I don't quite fall out of my skin anymore, but I can still feel a subtle knot forming in my stomach.

"Ally, have you recovered from the wedding? It's Lu Russell."

"Lu, what's up? Langly's at work."

"I figured as much. Actually, I need your help."

"I'm afraid I'm not much in the technical department."

"Yes, but according to my second-favorite bust, you can organize and categorize."

"Well, yeah, I can." What's going on here?

"Good. And you will be paid for this, of course. I certainly don't expect you to work for free."

Wow, somebody out there thinks I have half a functioning brain-who'd have thought?

"What do you need me to do?"

"We're doing a job for J.A. Byers."

"As in, Byers's father?"

"That would be him, yes."

"I see."

I guess you don't have to like people to take them as clients. Yes, Mr. Byers was pleasant enough at the wedding, but I still think he's a chilly bastard.

Still, not letting my brain go to mush is a huge temptation.

"There is a ton of documentation, and yes, they have their own ways of filing it within the corporation, but we need it sorted and coded for our purposes."

"For what reason?"

"A number of them. As you know, Byers and Juliet had their house attacked not long ago."

"I know. It sucked."

"And the same thing happened to Mr. Byers, and his daughter and her family."

Okay. I cringe. I don't care who you are. If it's family, and they're under siege, that's all I need to know.

"There have also been a number of problems in his plants, both domestic and overseas."

"All right." My brain is starting to move into gear here, as to how I would organize things-well, I have to see what I'm working with, but I do have some ideas. "Sure, I'm game. Do you want to e-mail me?"

"Yes, I think that would be best."

"I don't even know where your office is."

"Do you remember your husband's old office?"

"Sure."

"Well, it's my office now."

I laugh. "You're very brave, Lu. I've seen how they kept that place."

This makes her laugh. "Fortunately, it was the sort of mess that could be cured with a little elbow grease and Clorox. Would it that all messes were so easily scoured up."

Would it, indeed.
 

LANGLY:

"So where do you wanna go?"

He looks like a scared rat. "Taco Bell?"

"Works for me." I'm not picky. I can do Taco Bell. It's not Ally's cooking, but hey, you can get 5 tacos for 3 bucks. This used to be real important, back when I had no money at all.

We get permission to leave, and sign ourselves out-God, this is worse than dorms in the 50s.

They claim it in the interest of national security. Personally, I think they just like being assholes.

It's chilly out, but we're having that classic fall weather everybody gets so misty-eyed about. So it's nice. I like fall. Ally's more of a summer person, but I like it cool.

Besides, in summer it's too hot to fuck.

I get my five tacos, a Mexican pizza, and two bean and cheese burritos-I'm hungry, sue me, and a monster Coke to wash it down. Charles is more of a wimp. One chicken burrito and a soft taco.

And at the rate he's going, I'll finish before him.

"So Charles, what's up?" This guy has no idea how to be with people.

"Um...well...they say you're from the Pentagon."

"Yeah, used to work there." Not a big secret.

"Did you know a guy named Bryce Boyd?"

"Bryce? Hell, yeah. Used to have fun busting on him. He worked in my cube. Why?"

"He's my brother."

Oh, hello! I didn't even pick up on the last name. Still, it's not like Boyd's all that uncommon. A lot more common than Langly with no e, at any rate. (Pisses me off how it gets misspelled all the time at work. Just because we work in Langley, Virginia does not mean that's how you spell my name!)

"Yeah?" Julie's conversations at our house come to mind, and I start not feeling quite so hungry.

"He's missing."

Still? I don't say anything.

"His girlfriend's driving me crazy."

Shit, shit, shit!

"What's his girlfriend's name?"

Hey, I'm not giving away anything for free here.

"Julie...Renshaw, I think is the last name."

Yeah, that would be right.

"She says she's tried to get her family to help her, but they're not being very cooperative-"

What the hell does she want?

I almost tell him, but I'm gonna hold off. I got no idea what the game here is. I'm gonna wait it out, let him tell his side.

And then maybe I'll say something, and maybe I won't.

"And she's tried contacting the police, and gotten nowhere-"

"Like did you know he was missing?"

"Well, I didn't for a while...he's very busy, and since he got involved with Julie, we don't get together much-"

"So what're you doing about it?"

"Whatever I can. I hired a private detective. So far, I've mostly thrown my money away."

"So what're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking...I'm wondering about the girlfriend. I don't know. Something just...I don't know. She seems like she really is trying to find him, but I...she seems hinky."

Oh, you don't know the half of it, boy.

Sad part is, I don't, either.

Got to do something about that.

END OF PART 6