---

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

2.2 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.2 – Estate Planning

---

Jesse’s eyes darted around the room. He seemed reticent on the matter, which was odd given how eager he had been to implicate us as whatever supposed villains he’d seen.

“Well…” I said, drumming my fingers impatiently on a mahogany table.

“There were five of ‘em, or at least I think so, ‘t’sall real hazy, two real tall ones in hats with big brims, so I couldn’t make out the face, and three guys in khakis and golfing shirts.”

“Khakis and golfing shirts, truly Satanic…” Lucas quipped.

“Anyway they looked like foreigners and they were strong, big guys, crew cuts, two was carrying cases and backpacks and one was carryin’ some kinda rope.”

“Maybe Thorton is into BDSM. He does always say he’s tied up…” Chuck guffawed.

“Shh…I wanna hear this…”

“Well I musta followed em for about forty minutes or so, I made sure to stay back far…far…I didn’ like tha look o them tall ones with the hats, somethin’ was wrong with their hands, though I was too far away to tell wut.”

He seemed to have a hard time recollecting.

“Then I saw ‘em come to some kinda clearing with a buncha granite and such in it. They dropped all their stuff and started setting up somethin’. The guy with the rope tied it around three trees into a triangle and the two tall ones stood in the center of it, back to back.”

“Sounds like some high caliber LARPING.” Sam couldn’t help himself. “Didn’t you once go dumpster diving with a chub that was into all that Wicca shit?” He asked looking at Graham who was as creepy and unresponsive as he’d been for the past four hours.

“Sam, shut your fucking mouth, I don’t get to hear bullshit this good very often.” Lucas said.

“It ain’t bullcrap, it ain’t, I saw it, I swear, one o the tall ones pointed an arm straight down in a perfect kinda angle the other raised his and bent it at the elbow kinda a pointin at the sky with the weirdest gnarled finger…then…

They started makin’ sounds. Weird sounds, unholy sounds, they was nothin like that I had herd before, it was a sort hum and shriek and chant all at ones, low and pulsating, the three commando looking guys had set up some kinda box with a revolving sort of stone on it, and one was holdin a panel..I dunno there was a lot goin on but it was all somehow related…to them lights, cause soon, the whole place got real weird, real dizzy like, it was almost like stars and such had come to earth, it go real dark but I could still see trees n sky, n ground, and then tha ground, it got all inky, n them glowing christmas lights dun sorta ooze out of em and buzz about, and in the light o that buzzin…I saw…”

There was a long pause.

“You saw…”

“I saw the face o tha tall ones under the hats, they was rong, not people faces, they had real rough lookin skin, and no noses, and the eyes were large, kinda like snake eyes…”

“Then I saw it look at me, and ….”

This time the pause was uncomfortably long. More than eight minutes of silence interspersed with prodding.

“Ok, so how did you end up in the Lodge, and how did you avoid our suppressive systems? That would be the ear-splitting pulse weapon we have to play with.”

“I don’t remember no sound except for that throbbin thing just before I dropped my gun and found myself all damp by that cold lake…”

“Yeah, but you got in here somehow…”

“I don’t remember…”

“Anybody leave anythin open..”

“Thass right…! Ya’ll is wicked I recall now makin my way on muh hands and knees and I saw two doors open to the dark and stairs…”

“The root cellar…” I said palming my face.

“I saw them pillars n skulls, n runes, n such yall had in there… yall is wicked too.”

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“Government-funded voodoo?” Pierce chuckled.

“I wouldn’t put it past ‘em.” Fabre remarked with rueful vehemence.

Just then the television flickered on.

---

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

2.1 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.1 – Mirage

---

I handed the chocolaty concoction to our stricken friend, whose voice, and redness of features still bore witness of his recent ordeal.

Lucas and I sat down and everyone was quiet for a bit. I could see several heads nodding as if they were about to fall into a dream. The hour was of course by now quite late. Maybe I should have chosen coffee over alcohol.

Eventually, Lucas looking at Jesse, spoke up, “Looks like Alan’s caught your mood.”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“I mean he’s seeing stuff too. Just said something about lights out on the lake.”

“You saw ‘em too!”

I nodded.

“I tell ya, they called them up, called them up right up out of the lake! I saw them with their gizmo out at da rocks about a mile from here. The look of ‘em, I nearly hollered, I nearly ran back home, and woulda too if it hadn’t been for that mut…”

“Hold on, hold on, Jesse. Let’s start things from the beginning. How did you end up out here? This area technically doesn’t exist.”

There was a pause as the rustic gathered his thoughts.

“Me n Jumper were trackin pigs. I almost was on top of em too but the dog was acting up, getting goofy in steps, like somethin had grabbeh a hold of his brains, anyway, I could hear em snorting just a few yards away, then suddenly he yelped and jetted off deep deep into the woods, headin west from what I remember.”

“Yeah, we’re more or less sixty miles west of Foley.”

“Sixty miles…! No, no way, I wasn’t a walkin’ for longer than an hour and had been trackin maybe since three in the afternoon.”

“Hmm…well did you drive up to Totten’s cabin like usual?”

“Yea.”

“Well that’s twenty miles west of Foley.”

“There ain’t no way that I walked longer than a couple of miles before I saw em….”

“Maybe so, but what happened afterwards….”

I was getting annoyed.

“Ok, hold on! Like I was saying let’s keep things chronological…so, you were out pig hunting, your dog freaked out, and you saw them…”

The giant hunter paused again to find his place in the story.

“…yea so Jumper ran off, and that’s Totten’s favorite dog, and he’d have my hide if I lost him. So I gave up the pigs which were spooked by his antics anyhow and I chased that damned mut. It wasn’t hard cause he would pause every once in a while and turn in weird little circles like he was trying to make up his mind on somethin. But…whenever I was on top of him he shot off again, always headin west, I always keep my GPS and compass on me, direct beeline west.”

He sipped the cocoa for a while, obviously enjoying it, letting the steam soothe away the trace of CS. I grinned as he shot me a venomous look.

‘Hey, if you trespass on private land in Appalachian hills…tear gas is probably the best outcome…’ I thought to myself.

“It was pretty soon that I realized that this was the way to old Luckadoo’s lodge.”

“How do you know about Luckadoo? About this place?”

Pierce burst out in a chuckle. “That porch mason!”

“Huh…?”

“Deacon Mitchum…that’s the connection to spooky Doo. He was never well liked by the brothers here… and the Deacon aimed to find out what the hell that icy Brit was doin’ in Foley. Jesse’s dad is real good at ingratiating himself, he even broke down the batards classic English reserve… God, this must have been years ago though.”

“I was about six at the time that dad n me were invited out here for a turkey shoot.”

“God, William must have been ancient, if you were six, what’s that 2003, he must have been nearing eighty, hell ninety, no no, he was about the same age at the time as Lord Russel was when he passed, three years shy of a hundred.”

“Well, he didn’t look much older than Officer Fabre over there…” Jesse interjected.

“Really! I’ve been practicing here since ’78 and he was already getting grey then.”

“Well, there was a touch of grey in the hair.”

“A touch! The man you saw wasn’t Luckadoo!”

“Oh, yeah, now I remember that was Mr. Luckadoo’s son.”

“Ah! Of course, 2003 is when Luckadoo died and his slacker son took over the estate.”

“Yeah, he was talkin about plans of turning this into a huntin’ resort with discounts for the locals. He was real nice. But my dad kept on tellin’ me stories bout that whole clan, said they was no good, involved with some business havin to do with some kinda Dawn back in England or somethin, anyhow..”

“Discounts for the locals, old bastard musta turned in his grave twice.”

I recalled the man I’d met when Thornton was negotiating to have us sequestered here.

The land, the lake, and the lodge didn’t see the plans the squire imagined. There was a provision in the will which he found distasteful. But duty was duty, and the only protest Thorton recalled from the heir was a furrowed brow, as the land was publicly noted to have been placed in the care of ‘The Army Corps of Engineers.’

Classic DARPA shenanigans. But, that was the funny thing. There was no need for the son to know anything about the real intent of the land, the real reason for all the NDA’s.

God!

I’d never thought about it. Why did Lucas and I have to meet Henry? Now that I thought about it, it was almost like we were reporting to him, Thorton too..I’d never seen a subservient side of him before. What was this…and NASA…?

“Ok, ok!” I said as annoyance broke me out of my reverie. “So, you knew about this place, had been here before, and ended up heading in this direction looking for a dog you’d borrowed, then you saw something…”

“Yea, yea, then I saw them…”

His eyes turned distant.

“Them…?”

---

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

2.0 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 2.0 -Calvinist Neuroses

---

It was the doctor’s turn to laugh. “Well, Jesse, I see your love of Shakespeare has paid off. That was pretty damned dramatic.”

The big oaf was momentarily embarrassed dawdling at the threshold.

Then a fresh burst of zeal overtook him and he rushed into the light of the fire.

“These, what are ya doin with these…”

“These what Mr. Jessup?” Doctor Pearce inquired cooly.

“These!…Devil worshipers…”

The word hung awkwardly on the air before the whole room erupted in raucous laughter. The boy’s face did bear some evidence of intelligence but his rustic accent and protestant zeal were too much for composure.

“I saw you, I saw you out in the woods, actin actin like like warlocks, don’t deny it, there ain’t no use, ain’t no laughin where you’re goin…”

We redoubled our laughter. The way that lanky Graham’s clothes straight-jacketed the brawny youth’s broad shoulders made his rustic preachments doubly funny.

“You claim that we are witches, Inquisitor!?” I said in a comically arcane English accent.

“No one expects the Yokel Inquisition!” Lucas caught on to the Pythonism.

Jesse Mitchum’s embarrassment was creeping back into his wholesome, square-jawed, features.

“You know Jesse, in your defense, I’d believe they’re witches quicker than what they really are.”

“What are ya’ll doin’ out here! You’re just like old Luckadoo’s kin, wicked, wicked to the core…!”

“They’re soldiers, Jesse, defending America…with better life through chemistry.” The doctor announced with his characteristic acerbic sarcasm.

I was beginning to get curious, we rarely ventured far into the woods, and our voodoo themed ayahuasca trips were held in a root cellar. The lad struck me as a typical Methodist teetotaler and I doubted highly he was given to hallucinations. He must have seen something.

“Jesse,” I said, “I think that’s your name, so, Jesse, I promise you that we are way too fond of lattes and craft beer to venture too far out into these hills. Whatever you saw wasn’t us. Though I’m as curious, as the hell that you’re promising me, as to what you saw exactly.”

Our unexpected guest relaxed a little and seemed to enjoy the respect in my voice. Pearce had mentioned something to him about his study of Shakespeare. I was dealing with a budding thespian.

“Well..” He began.

I held up my hand. “Take a seat, get comfortable, do you want something to drink? I bet you’re wanting something warm?”

“Ya’ll wouldn’t happen to have some Cocoa?”

“O Graham has plenty of Cocoa.” Sam quipped as he did a pantomime noseful.

I had forgotten about Graham in all of the excitement. He hadn’t said a word since his French exchange with Officer Fabre. The traces of that sardonic smirk still played in curlicues round the corners of his mouth. His eyes were distant and unpleasantly cold, mocking even…

I got up to fetch the cocoa partly cause Chuk had fallen asleep and I was the backup chef, and partly to dispel the serious dose of heeby-jeebies that I’d just gotten off of Graham Hoyt.

I wasn’t spooked easily. And while I’m not an atheist, my outlook on cosmic matters is so spartan and empirical that I wouldn’t blame a body for thinking that I was. There was something about that look, and the whole atmosphere around Hoyt, the suddenness of the shift from his vivacious Etruscan chattiness to this brooding haughtiness, that reached down into my guts and broke my skin out in goosebumps.

While I was getting the powder from the cabinet above the microwave I felt a command.

Look out the window.

It was very stern. It was impossible to resist the compulsion. I looked and I froze.

There out beyond the dock in the midst of the cold mountain lake were lights. Fantastic lights of various hues, violet, green, crimson, deep blue. They appeared as orbs glowing with a ferocious luminosity and doing a sort of rhythmic rearrangement round some spot. There was a strong sense of intelligence and intent.

“Hey, hey Baird, hey what’s taking so long…. I’m keen to hear what this yahoo has to say.”

I couldn’t look away or say anything.

“Hey!”

I managed to mumble with a slurred sort of awe, past whatever was keeping my jaw from working, like speaking through a straw… “Look, there…”

For some reason, it was damnably difficult to get my arm to move so I could point.

Schmidt slapped me on the back. “You gotta cool it with the boozin man, you’re slurring like a motherfucker.”

This brought me back into a fuller control of my faculties.

“Hey, hey! Look out the damned window asshole!” I yelled.

There was a pause.

“Uh…at what…”

“Don’t you see the lights…”

But there was nothing but darkness now.

“Have you been microdosing again?”

“No, holy shit, you can’t tell me you didn’t see that…”

“Dude, my last liver workup looked like a Merck catalog, I see shit all the time. But there’s nothing out there but owl shit and darkness at the moment. I promise you.”

“Well fuck…”

“You alright man?”

“Yea, yea,” I said as I put the milk in a clumsily rinsed kettle.

---

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

1.9 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.9 – ‘Precedent’

---

The giant was really taking his sweet time. I wasn’t worried. There was no way out except to pass my line of sight. My lazyboy was pointed to provide ample view of the stairwell.

We were all a bit surprised to hear Cameron’s name.

The fire crackled and lit tense faces.

“You do me a disservice doctor.”

“O?”

“Yes, I’m not Presbyterian.”

“Come again?”

“Calvinists…predermination..that’s really not my cuppa tea.”

“I don’t really follow…”

“Strenght and Beauty…not a bad little book…but quite ripe for perversion…”

The doctor was completely lost.

“Cameron’s father was a Presbyterian minister, there’s a wee book by another fellow of that denomination called Strength and Beauty.”

“I thought Cameron was Canadian. Catholic.”

“Scottish actually. It’s the experiments that took place in Canada.” I paused searching my mind for the name behind the book I’d just mentioned.

“…ooo that’s right the fellows name was Miller..JR..or JD something to that effect, anyway I quite fancy the thing, good advice, very elegant and cheery…but all throughout there’s that sneaky nordic sternness, a bit imbecilic, in fact I think Nietzsche called it out quite well, it is a beersoaked contentment, volkish, daft, ponderous, German…”

“Cameron hated the Germans.”

“Yes, which I always found to be most amusing given how Teutonic a flavor his weltanschauung held.”

“I’m lost.”

“Well, the fellow had a very bizarre sort of idea of normalcy. That there were the ‘strong healthy types’ suited for industrial societies and then there were the ‘weak and maladapted’… most markedly displaying themselves in the German populace, via aggression and the neurosis of xenophobia. It was a wonderfully Celtic inversion of Hitler’s idea. We’re the master race! No lad! You’re the Jews!”

I chuckled a bit. “Yes, it would all be quite funny if he weren’t handed so much money and authority out where the Mounties roam….O My God the women in Montreal…anyway…he was very strong on the idea that everything was biological and that psychiatry should take a disciplinary approach. This led to those infamous incidents at Allan Memorial. Though honestly I’m surprised you’d heard of it.”

“You’d be surprised by a lot of the things I’ve heard.”

“Doubtless, doctor, doubtless. But yes we’re not doing anything of the sort here and I find the guilt by association offensive. Just because my last name is Scottish… Cameron was nothing but a simple-minded euphemism of a lobotomist living out Calvinist neurosis.”

“Calvinist neurosis?”

“Aye, think about…predetermination.. you are born damned or saved…you are born fit or unfit…your brain shape and chemistry making you either healthy or unhealthy…very little room for nuance…no free will…simply automata that must be repaired by the healthy…of course the healthy are the ones that view the world this way…which is…” I burst out laughing. “So profoundly daft that it makes me believe in God, because only the hand of something so grandiose could make creatures capable of such folly.”

No sooner had my fit of mirth ended then I noted a large frame at the bottom of the stairs.

The giant’s shoulders drooped and he was still miserable from my little tactical measure.

“How dare ya tak bout the Lord…” He said in a low voice.

 

 

---

 

1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe

1.2 The Cajun Prayer

1.3 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter One: The Cambridge Gable Scene (‘Gator is Waitin’)

1.4 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.4 – The Cambridge Gable Scene – (Horticulture)

1.5 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.5: ‘To Luckadoo Cove’

1.6 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.6 – ‘Is there anybody out there…’

1.7 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.7: ‘Jesse’

1.8 The Sketch of Sam Monroe – Chapter 1.8: ‘Lungful of Bees’

---

“O Christ, looks like you gassed Deacon Mitchum’s kid.” Pierce chuckled.

“What in the hell are you doin’ out here Jesse?” Officer Fabre inquired.

“Not now,” I said. “He needs to get warm and quick.”

I escorted the stricken captive up the stairs.

“I ain’t gonna bathe you, the water is probably gonna irritate your skin at first, but the steam will do good for your mucous membranes. We made sure to have hot fucking water. So you’re in luck. I think you can find your way back down to the living room and back down the stairs. We know who you are now and I could get you in a hell of a lot of trouble so there’s no point in braving the cold and runnin off. Got it, kid?”

The ruddy-faced giant just sort of nodded in a defeated way and went into the bathroom to nurse his wounds.

“So I guess those weren’t your bootmarks I found round the greenhouse,” I said to Fabre.

“O no, you won’t find trace of Phillipe Fabre.”

“You don’t track a coonass, a coonass tracks you.” Doc Pierce enjoined.

“Well, whatever. In either…in both cases, I ain’t too pleased. What’s that kid doin tresspassin…what are you doin’ tresspassin without a warrant?”

“Well, this is my town.”

“This is outside of your jurisdiction…”

“Nah.”

I shook my head.

“You understand that from even a basic legal standpoint you are in the wrong. And since this is a military operation you could be in a hell of a lot of trouble.”

“I still don’t know what the hell this is all about. All these exotic plants, ya’ll are real young too, there’s no way that one is a colonel…” Fabre said pointing to Schmidt.

I laughed. “Nepotism.”

“Ain’t that just the way it always is…” Pierce affected a southern drawl.

“Also, we’re a bit older than we look. That’s part of the schtick. I’m twenty-eight, Schmidt is thirty, Sam is twenty-six, and the two boffins are also about to hit thirty rock.”

“Ok…so what’s all this…”

“Well…frankly I don’t have to tell you anything, I could hand you over, and you’d have an assfull of fines and NDA’s. But that means more work for me….paperwork…so….”

I weighed my options again momentarily.

“So..”

“So it’s easier just to tell you that we’re here conducting research on behalf of Uncle Sam. I’m basically security and liaison, Schmidt is team leader, Sam is a toxicologist for DARPA, Chuck is a UC Davis botanist, and Graham is here just cause we like him and we share your approach to flaunting regulations.”

“That still doesn’t tell me what’s goin’ on…” Fabre said with a befuddled look.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked.

“You’re doing chemical research…” Doc Pierce offered.

“Close. The full explanation is that we’re studying the effects of various psychedelics and subliminally induced states. Along with a tad of work on understanding and neutralizing viral and bacterial agents.”

“So you’re a Psyops and Bio Warfare outfit…”

“In a manner of speaking.”

There was some small span of silence as the two visitors digested the information.

“Hold on if you’ve got the kind of clearance you say you do, and this is that kind of operation…there’s no way that top brass doesn’t already know we’re here.”

I chuckled. “You think we’re being surveilled?”

“I guarantee it. That is if you’re being honest.”

“Ok…so sound weapons, leapfrog tactics, tear gas, and a greenhouse full of military grade psilocybin and nightshade on crack don’t convince you…”

“It’s just really out there…”

“Well, reality is really out there. We’re on a rock hurling itself round the sun and in the span of a few generations we’ve gone from riding four-legged animals to walking on the moon…”

“I guess it’s possible.”

“Damn right. But you know what’s impossible…?”

The two men humored my dramatic pause.

“Spying on Alan Baird.”

“I think you underestimate the snoopiness of your employers.” Pierce remarked.

“There are three things necessary to keep tabs as close as you’re suggesting. The first is manpower, the second is probable cause, and the third is technical facility.”

“And I’d assume that whatever Black Ops juju you’re involved with has all three in spades.”

“Your antique assumption of competence is charming Doc. But, the complexities and vulnerabilities of digital systems are highly exploitable. And politics has weaseled itself even further up the chain of command and past every conceivable barrier of clearance.”

“Politics…”

“Yep, case in point, take a look at Schmidtty over there…handsome ain’t he?”

“I don’t swing that way brother,” Fabre said.

“Don’t be a homophobe you know you’re a sucker for those sweet baby blues. So is Alison…”

“Alison?”

“Hey Ali! How was that trip to Malibu with….Lukey Pooohhh. DAWWWWWWW!” I said boisterously as I pretended to speak into a hidden microphone behind a tapestry. “His daddy sure has a nice little beach house doesn’t he..you spoiled fucks...”

“Eh, I dunno, I think you’re setting yourself up for trouble…”

“Oh…we would be if that was the extent of our capabilities.”

“Huh..”

“What she and the rest of the donut dippers are listening to is actually an artfully rendered loop, of us acting out, the sorts of things we’re supposed to be up to. She simply makes sure the charade is complete by hammering out any inconsistencies.”

“Hmm…”

“Don’t underestimate the corrupting influence of an attractive brunette in a sea of IT geeks.”

There was yet another pause as the two men took in the full weight of everything that was going on.

“Wait, there’s a precedent, you’re…you’re the successors of Ewen Cameron’s abortion…”