And All My Dreams, Torn Asunder

by Darkside

2004

 

4. Education

Two days later Friday was on a C4 Galaxy transport bound for the US. She'd offered to help escort Richard's body back to the US, it would give her a sense of closure and it would help Richard's next of kin grieve. She knew what it was like to lose someone and not have the chance to say goodbye. She had been offered the opportunity to help escort the coffin from the plane into the waiting hearse, and as much as she would have liked to she couldn't risk being photographed or filmed; at least not in her Friday body and in a US Air Force uniform anyway. So she stayed in the crew area as the coffin was lifted out of the aircraft and escorted with honor to the waiting hearse.

An hour later the media had gone, and she made her way out of the gates of the airbase changed back into civilian clothes, got a taxi to the nearest Hertz rental and drove the rented Ford home.

It was nearly midnight when she finally walked up to the steps to her apartment. In spite of the tiredness she felt her mind was a blur of questions and possibilities. Most of which remained the same from a few days ago. She had more questions than answers, a situation she was unused to.

She stripped off her suit and into a set of fleece PJ's. New York was a lot cooler than Seoul, less humid too and to be honest she hadn't really liked the garish, in your face commercialism of that city. Not that she'd seen much of it, the few days she'd spent recovering she'd been limited to the airbase and had had to have regular check ups to ensure she was none the worse for wear. Fortunately those check ups didn't include an X ray exam of her body. If it had, all hell would have broken loose.

She had considered letting her changeling organ remove her spare internal organs and only use them when she needed them, but as the chopper crash had proved there would be no time to grow a new set in time to need them.

Steve must be back already, she wondered if He'd left a message for her. He was supposed to be her trainer wasn't he? Besides, she needed a glass of water and she was overdue for her Stelazine. Sighing she swung her legs off of the bed and walked to the kitchen, and walked to the phone. There was a message waiting for her, she pressed play.

"Friday, this is Al from the diner. You haven't shown up for three shifts so I'm having to let you go. Bring the uniform back and I'll give you the rest of the weeks pay," That was all she needed! Fired! Not that she blamed him, she'd run off without even calling in sick or arranging anything else. Still, that didn't help her right now. Although her new ID was legit and fully secure, Heinlein had ensured that Friday's qualifications meant she could never practice medicine, work as a nurse in a hospital or even in a research lab.

She walked over to the faucet and poured herself a glass of water, and then took a bottle of white pills from the top of the fridge and swallowed two of them down. The Stelazine would help control her genetic propensity towards paranoia and sociopathic behavior. Her use of it was carefully watched and in addition to the mandatory changeling tests(which had to be forged), her blood was tested regularly to ensure the levels in her blood hadn't dropped dangerously low. The Stelazine molecule was too difficult for her to replicate herself without some serious equipment behind her, all of which were unavailable to her. The genetic flaw in her brain that had been cause of so much pain and anguish was still very much in place, and she didn't know enough about the effects of trying to use her changeling organ on her brain to risk trying for its removal. Re-growing a heart was child's play in comparison to healing a brain and still preserving the state of the neurons and paths that made up the core of her being.

Her reliance on a drug to keep her from becoming a serious risk was a great cause of concern both to her and no doubt to Heinlein and yet it was this flaw that had enabled her to perform quantum leaps in the advancement of genetic research and knowledge. Somehow it moved her already high intelligence to a level beyond that of genius. She reflected back on her performance in the mission. She should have been more prepared for it to turn to crap and not relied on what she was told. Was she losing her edge? If her lives and the lives of others depended of her abilities then shouldn't she ensure those abilities were at the highest possible level? And did the highest possible level include occasionally letting the flaw take over? She checked the tatty white plastic clock on the kitchen wall, 00:12:27. Wearily she walked back to bed, only to hear the couple next door start an argument which was then soon accompanied by the noise of breaking crockery and shouting.

She found herself standing behind a razor wire fence, overlooking a modern city. Modern skyscrapers towered above the skyline and yet on the outskirts of the bustling city centre ancient narrow streets radiated out in all directions. From her vantage point just above the city she could see markets full of people all going about their business, just to one side the pyramids and sphinx could be seen.

"No Stop. It's a mistake!" she screamed, but no one was listening.

To her left she saw a little boy point to the sky and say "Aeroplanes."

"STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP!!!!" she was screaming louder and louder. Her fingers trying to pull apart the razor wire so she could warn them, but she wasn't strong enough. It was then she saw them, just small dots on the horizon but growing.

"NO, Don't do it. Please for the love of God NO!" Blood was pouring from her hands but the razor wire was too strong.

By now she could hear air raid sirens, "No please no. Call it off. It's a mistake for God's sake NO!"

The aircraft split out in several directions and she saw the little boy's finger follow them as they streaked over the city.

It was too late, it was always too late. She sunk to her knees, still grabbing the razor wire in vain, "Not again, please not again, no!"

There were several massive flashes each as bright as the sun and a wave of heat struck her in the face. She looked up, ignoring the heat and light and saw building after building being swatted aside like cardboard. Windows shattered and broke, cars and trunks were flung high into the air and for a few moments it looked as though the majestic and awe inspiring pyramids would remain intact. Then, moments later the top section of the great pyramid started to crack and then another blast wave pushed it aside as a small child does a stack of blocks.

Then from every direction came walls of fire, moving impossibly fast that consumed everything as they went. The little boy and his mother, by now just a pile of ash were swept aside in an unimaginable tide of heat, light and blast pressure. Still physically unaffected by the horrific forces being unleashed on the city she saw thousands up on thousands of people being burned to thick black ash as the firestorms swept over and around her.

She alone was still alive in this city of the dead, and still screaming "Nooo!" fell to her face sobbing and screaming in anguish.

Friday woke up screaming, the dream she just had was as vivid as if she had been there. By now she knew every moment, every gush of wind and every detail. The horror of it imbedded in her heart and mind forever. She was sweating and breathless and decided to walk to the kitchen to get another drink of water. At least she'd hadn't had the Tel-Aviv one. That was worse. In both cases it was the same. She was screaming and shouting for it to stop, for the slaughter to somehow be prevented, but every time she failed. They always died, all of them, every single one, every single time...

She collapsed onto the bed, and did the only thing she could to sleep. She adjusted her body chemistry to a point where she was almost comatose. It was the only way to get rid of the screams.

Friday woke up, and glanced at the bedside clock, its red LED display showing it was a little past nine am. She gave a yawn, walked the few steps to the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. Moments later she was in the shower, the first stage on getting ready to face her first day of unemployment.

Three hours later she was back home, after giving Al his uniform back and collecting the 200 dollars he owed her. After the adrenalin rush of the mission, today was an extreme anti climax. She flicked the TV on, retrieved her last remaining tub of ice cream and sat down to watch brain numbing daytime TV.

At about 3pm her cell phone ringing interrupted Friday's Jerry Springer watching.

"Hello Friday Carrell speaking?"

"Friday, time for your debrief. We've sent a car for you and it should be outside in about 10 minutes," the voice said in a flat toneless way.

"Steve?" Friday queried.

"See you in 30 minutes," the phone went dead.

"Back to work," She said to herself and got up to get changed and pack her Lieutenants uniform back into its holdall.

A blue Ford Taurus was waiting outside of the apartments by the time she had packed and changed into her work outfit. She slung the holdall into the rear seat and got in.

One good thing she could say about secret service drivers is that they didn't do small talk, so she could relax and not worry about the state of the weather, how well the Mets were doing or any number of inane conversations.

Luckily the traffic was light so the trip took quicker than expected and soon she was being escorted to the same elevator she'd been up a few days before. The door to the conference room clicked open on the swipe of her key card. This time, Steve was sitting next to Heinlein at the far end of the table, and once again the curtains were drawn leaving the room being lit by artificial lights. "Nice to see you Lieutenant," Steve gave a smile. Now clean shaven and dressed in a suit he looked a vast improvement on the disheveled figure she'd last seen a few days ago.

"Good to be back sir," Friday said formally. She wasn't sure how this debrief would go, and for some reason she wanted to make a good impression on Steve. Although she didn't care a fuck what Heinlein thought!

"Friday, take a seat we've a lot to go through," Heinlein gestured to a seat next to Steve.

Friday walked over to the seat and after a quick internal debate whether to choose a different seat, sat down at the one Heinlein had shown. Cheap point scoring would be counter productive at the moment.

"I'll get straight to the point," Heinlein said in a matter of fact tone, "You did a good professional job under difficult circumstances. Well done!"

Friday thought she'd misheard, "Thank you sir."

"Steve was particularly impressed by your presence of mind and resourcefulness not only in dealing with the unfortunate crash but in ensuring that your unique abilities were not compromised," Friday could sense the relief in Heinlein's voice.

"Thank you sir," No mention that she'd nearly been killed in the crash though.

"It's going to take us a while to go through the information Steve obtained during his captivity and also look into why exactly you were fired upon and shot down; so don't expect to hear from us for a while. Steve over to you," Heinlein gestured to Steve to continue.

Steve gave a slight smile, "Lieutenant, or should I say Friday. I've had the chance to catch up on a lot of what you've been getting up to the past two years, and frankly you scare the hell out of me. Your work on taking down the Guild and the manner in which you stopped a war were highly impressive and no doubt on those feats alone you've earned your place here."

"Thanks," Friday felt she could be less formal with Steve, than with the seemingly anal Heinlein.

"Thank you sir!" Steve corrected. Interesting how Steve confirmed the agencies fear of her. Maybe that's the lever she was looking for.

Maybe not, "Thank you sir," Friday replied.

"However of greater concern is that fact that you don't yet know the full range of your abilities, your attitude seems to change from compliance to petulant defiance on a whim, and most of all, your records show that you never do anything unless it serves your needs or accomplishes what you want it to. This has to change!" Steve's manner showed a slight hardening. That Friday wasn't sure if it was real or acted for Heinlein's benefit.

"Can I speak openly?" Friday asked.

"Sure," Steve replied and by the look in his eyes Friday could see he knew what was coming next.

Friday took a deep breath, "With all due respect, my motivations are none of the agencies business. Do they question why you get up for work every morning? Do they query every employees? Maybe my reasons are too personal for me to share. As long I as I do my job what does it matter? As to my full capabilities, isn't that what Steve is here for! To find them out? But, what I do know is that I work best when I know the full facts."

Friday caught Heinlein's sideways glance to Steve.

"Any normal agent no we wouldn't bother. But then you're no ordinary agent are you? We don't tend to hire mass murderers and a walking weapon of mass destruction," Heinlein started to say.

How dare he! "That's it! I'm out of here!" Friday stood up, having to blink back tears. Fuck em.

"Lieutenant sit down!" Steve barked the order.

Friday shouted back, "I'm no fucking Lieutenant. You just said what I am. A monster responsible for the deaths of millions, A political liability and an outcast. Now if you'll excuse me I have a life to lead."

Heinlein's tried to calm things down, "Friday, Stay! You walk out that door and you'll have no life. You were granted a conditional pardon. Break that and the gloves are off. Make no mistake, no matter who you turn yourself into we will track you down, and even if it takes a cruise missile strike you will be killed. The nation will more than understand. Is that what you want?"

"What I want is to be treated with some respect and dignity. You wanted to know my motivations. I'm responsible for the deaths of fourteen million people! In the quiet moments in my dreams I still hear the screams of the dying, still see the flesh melting as the nuclear fire incinerates them, still see the images of men, women and children being eaten away by a weapon I created. You can't understand how that makes me feel. I want justice, for them! To do something that will in some way pay back the evil I've done. Make your mind up if that makes me dangerous or not," Friday walked closer to the door, undecided as yet whether to walk out of it or not.

"Friday wait!" Steve called out. The pain and hurt this woman felt ran much deeper that he expected. It was a festering wound across her very soul, a wound that not even her superhuman abilities could heal, "We're sorry. We had no idea!. Look, we've got some good news for you."

"You'll only use a smart bomb, rather than a cruise missile on me?"

Friday said sarcastically.

"Only a small one," Steve smiled, hoping to break the tension.

It sort of worked "So what's the good news?"

"Three bits of good news," Heinlein stated.

Friday sat down at the chair closest to the door, "Which are?"

"Firstly, because of your actions on the mission you are now officially First Lieutenant Friday Carrell of the US Air Force. Now of course you can't actually take up a post or take part in active service, but you'll be on a full First Lieutenant's wage, in addition to the retainer we will pay you from next month. It also helps any cover we may need to be created for you internally."

An interesting development, "and?"

"We notice that you've lost your job. Just this morning we've got you new one," Heinlein stated.

"Pizza hut?" Friday sighed.

"Actually no. We've added a few more qualifications to Lt Friday Carrell. In addition to your military status you've now been awarded a degree in biology from the Phoenix University. Don't worry, we're not letting you anywhere near a research lab. You're going to use it to teach!"

"Teach?" Friday almost laughed out loud.

"Yes teach, biology and life sciences at Edison High in Washington DC. We've decided that you need something to keep your considerable mind active, and yet be something that you can leave occasionally while you work for us."

Friday had to laugh, "What would the parents say if they knew their little darlings had me for a teacher?"

"They won't know will they?" Heinlein added.

"So what's the third bit of good news? Let me guess I sing in the church choir" Friday was still smiling at the incredulity of it.

"You're getting married!"

"WHAT!"

"Congratulations to you the bride and," Heinlein gestured to Steve, "The groom."

"Fuck off!" Friday spat. Yet again she was being manipulated.

"Don't worry dear; it'll be just for show. We'll need to work real close over the coming months and weeks and there's no better cover than a newly wed couple buying their first home together," Steve smiled a conciliatory smile.

"Is the offer of the cruise missile strike still open? Can you lob a smart bomb at me as well, just to make sure?" Friday offered.

"Look. You wanted respect and you've got it, you wanted training and you've got it, and you wanted a chance to give back and you've got that. It's not as though you have to sleep with him or anything, just share a house as a pretend couple so we can train you properly," Heinlein could still see the anger flick across Friday's face.

"I'm no teacher! why not a research lab, or even back to being a doctor?. That would be showing me respect."

"You know what every organization, including the Guild's mistake was in handling you?" Heinlein offered.

Friday said nothing. Feelings of being set up washed over her, better to say nothing.

Heinlein continued, "They thought they had you pinned down. That you really had their best interests at heart. TGen did when it let you develop that genetic modification drug, the Guild did when they thought they knew your real motivations and had a hold over you. In both occasions you double crossed them and they knew nothing about it until you sprung the trap. We will not make that error again. As you will know, by Presidential executive order there will be no research job, no medical work until your time with us is over. You will be given no opportunity to double cross, set up or otherwise fuck with us. You wanted respect, and we give you it!"

"The respect you give me, is that of someone handling a cobra or black mamba. That's not the respect I'm looking for." Friday said sadly. Why didn't they trust her?

Heinlein nodded, "Correct, because at the moment you are the Cobra, the black mamba, and the supreme ambush predator wrapped into one beautiful package. As I've said to you before, the nation and the free world needs you to go to where others cannot go, to gather information on those who we could not normally do so. The intelligence services of the world failed to stop the attacks on Cairo and Tel-Aviv because it had no information, no intelligence on the Guild's plans. The last most devastating terrorist acts against civilians have come because we knew nothing about those who were to carry them out. That is why we need you; even a black mamba can save lives if used in the right way and at the right time."

Friday thought on this. What Heinlein said was undoubtedly true. No one had any idea of the full scale of the Guild's plans, not even she did. Had she done so the loss of life could have been prevented? This then appeared to be the route of her atonement. By obtaining information from places not normally possible she could and would save the lives of many, many innocents. Part of her knew she was being used, but maybe, just maybe this would help her find peace, "So you keep your tame cobra in a cage until you need it?" she said bitterly.

Heinlein gave a wry smile, "Tame is not a word I would use to describe you, but yes we try and make your 'cage' as comfortable as we can."

"If your personality profile of me should show anything it's that I hate being caged. I'm not a weapon that you can aim and then fire. Friday do this, do that, kill that person, deliver this package. I promised to protect life dammit!"

"Believe me, we know that. We know how much you value the Hippocratic oath and your skills as a doctor and surgeon. But that's the deal. As much as the cruise missile option is appealing for both of us that won't help save lives, it won't help stop another Tel-Aviv or Cairo. Friday, the short answer is we need you!"

Heinlein's argument was winning her over. "Promise me one thing!"

"What's that?"

"I want to know how and why everything I do will be used to save lives. I will not take a life unless it is to save others!"

"Seems reasonable to me. Deal," Heinlein said solemnly. Inwardly he smiled. The first stage of 'taming the Cobra' had been achieved.

"Then I guess you can call off the missile strike. When do I leave?"

"Tomorrow morning. You'll need to pack and Steve will come and pick you up and take you to your new house, sorry home."

Steve was tempted to make a 'love nest' quip, but this whole operation was still on a knife edge.

Anything was better than the hovel she was living in at the moment, and Steve was cute in a boyish kind of way. Maybe it would work out after all. She at least had the reassurances she needed, and could quite understand where Heinlein was coming from. She knew she'd been manipulated into doing what they wanted, but as long as they thought they owned her the better it was for her. For sure she had given her word to serve for fifteen years, her penance for past crimes and she would keep her word. However, she would ensure her time was spent on her terms and not dictated to her by a bastard like Heinlein. "Am I dismissed?" she asked.

Heinlein nodded, "Yes, Steve will pick you up at 10am."

"Heinlein can I state something for the record?" Friday asked.

"What's that?"

"You're a bastard!" With that Friday stood up and took the bus

home. She had some packing to do

 

 

5. Removal

It took Friday all of 30 minutes to pack her meager belongings, everything else was rented. She would arrange for them to be picked up later in the week. The journey back had allowed her to collate her feelings into at least some kind of order. The 'marriage' thing was a bit of a shock, but she'd treat it as any other kind of undercover assignment. Another part of her wanted to run and take her chances, she didn't believe for a moment that Heinlein would be able to track her down, but did she really want to live a life on the run?

The other thing preying on her mind was how in hell was she supposed to teach a load of kids? Sure she knew the science, but teaching is a whole lot more than knowing and telling. Those kids would come to either hate her, have the hots for her or even think her as another mom. It was then she realized that this was probably another test and that she would be required to pass it in order to carry on. It was classic behavioral modification. Go thru the maze the right way and get a bit of cheese, go the wrong way and get an electric shock. Eventually the subject would conform and behave. What really riled was that she was the subject trapped in the maze.

She had debated pulling a few strings with the President, after all he did still owe her big time and persuade him to let her try some other arrangement, but that would be admitting defeat and letting Heinlein win, or would it? It would show that she still had the spirit to fight back, regain her freedom and get her life back. She still had access to the private hotline to the President that had been used to help defuse the recent crisis, so she would use that to make sure she spoke to him directly. Still, for the moment she promised she'd only use it in dire emergency.

She put her two small bags of belongings onto the bed, took out her purse and walked outside. She would eat out, firstly because everything was packed and cleaned and secondly she deserved it!

She walked to the ATM and took out 100 dollars, leaving her with exactly 25 dollars in her bank account. Next month, the retainer fee, her First Lieutenants salary would kick in and the month after that her teaching money so she would soon have more than enough to live on. Until then she was broke.

She'd barely walked 50 yards when a male voice hissed in her ear, "Fancy sharing the wealth honey," she felt the prick of a knife blade in the small of her back.

"Please don't make me do this?" Friday said, trying to put fear into the mugger.

It nearly worked, there was a pause for a few moments and the knife moved away, but within moments she felt it pressed against her throat, "Money, NOW!" the voice hissed.

Friday concentrated and the skin under the knife blade hardened and was replaced with a gray, bony armor, "Ok it's in my purse, I'll get it out," Friday showing her right hand was empty slowly moved it across to her purse slung over her left shoulder. Carefully she opened the bag and dipped her hand inside. Out of sight of the mugger, the fingers on her hand merged together and were replaced with thick serrated bone, "Here it is," she said softly.

The mugger had no chance at all, there was a loud CRACK of bone as his intended victim grabbed his arm and twisted it at 90 degrees. Instinctively he pressed the knife into her throat and expected her to crumple, but the knife just glanced off. Another fraction of a second it all went black.

Friday pulled the bloodied blade that was her right hand out of the muggers throat and for the first time saw the face of her attacker. He was nothing more than a kid, barely fourteen years old. Blood was gushing from the open wound in his throat and his juvenile eyes were staring at her in horror and in shock. What had she done?

Within moments her blade had become a hand once more and she knelt down beside the dying boy and held his hand as she watched his life seep away onto the pavement It was all she could do to stop the tears from coming there and then, and she fled back to her apartment and sobbed herself to sleep. That night the Cairo dream was more vivid than ever, and she was sure that there was a new face in the fire. That of a fourteen year old boy who'd only wanted some extra money to pay off his dads gambling dept.

-- oo --

 

A loud hammering at the door woke Friday up, "Hey you in there time to go," The voice belonged to Steve! She must have slept in!

She got off the bed, and was about to open the door when she noticed dried blood on her right hand and sleeve. Fuck, what had she done! "Umm wait a sec Steve I'm not decent!" She called out.

She dashed to the sink and ran some hot water, "I feel like Lady McBeth," she said softly to herself as she washed the blood from her hand and sleeve. It still showed some of the stain, an apt metaphor for what had happened the night before. Why hadn't she just laid him out unconscious? It was easily achievable and he really was no threat at all. Fresh tears formed, she wasn't better at all, once a murderer always a murderer.

Maybe Heinlein was right, she was the ultimate predator, with an evil heart that could never change, someone who needed to be caged and constrained for the safety of others. Yes she thought, two years of sanity and still the old evil remained, this time lurking under the pretence of good causes.

"Friday, come on, hurry up you've had all night to pack!" Steve was starting to sound annoyed.

Fuck him, thought Friday he can wait. Maybe that's what she needed to do was wait. What was it Steve had said, "However of greater concern is that fact that you don't yet know the full range of your abilities, " Yes, that was why he was afraid of her, untrained she was like five year old with a live hand grenade. If she had any doubts about going with Steve they vanished. She was, she decided, too dangerous to be let loose; the Cobra needed a cage, at least for the moment but on her terms.

 

6. The Bride and Groom

"You took your time," Steve commented as Friday let him in. Steve was pulling a large black plastic suitcase.

"Who's that?" Friday asked, noticing a suited man with an SLR Camera.

"Our official wedding photographer," Steve lifted the suitcase and placed it on the sofa, "Here go and get changed, we'll set things up."

Friday sighed, it was obvious what they wanted to do. A newlywed couple with no wedding photos on the fireplace would seem very odd to the no doubt nosey neighbors. She unzipped the suitcase and pulled out a wedding dress, underneath the wedding dress was what seemed to be a plain green bed sheet. Memories of the past came flooding back, bringing with it old hurts and old pain, "I'm sure, sure.." she started and then lost her train of thought. What the hell was wrong with her? It was after all only to maintain a cover, a sham.

Steve looked at her sympathetically, "I understand. But we need to be professional about this and not let our personal feelings get in the way. We've not got long so be quick. I'm sure it'll fit," he gave Friday a knowing wink. Anything would fit.

"I'll need an hour or so. I'll need to put on some makeup and do my hair properly."

"Don't worry about makeup. We'll photoshop some in," Steve commented.

"Fine," Friday picked up the wedding dress, walked inside her bedroom and made damn sure the door was shut properly.

Whoever had bought the dress knew her tastes precisely, although it wasn't quite the best fit possible. It was a little large in the bust and small in the waist, so she adjusted her body to ensure a perfect fit. She smiled to herself, in one fell swoop she'd just turned the fashion industry upside down. No longer would she get clothes to fit, she would fit the clothes!

She did the zip up at the back and tidied her hair up the best she could. She turned and looked into the full length mirror on the door. A tall athletic redhead with blue eyes looked back at her. For sure this body wasn't in the same league as the one she was born with, and her ultra model 'Rachel Martin' body wasn't even in the same universe. Neither of these was available to her anymore. Her original body was now supposed to be dead, and Cathline was now 'Rachel Martin'. But, for her life at the moment, this body was perfect. Not imposingly beautiful and much better than attractive, but what it did have was that it was tuned and toned to be what she needed it to be.

"You done in there yet?" Steve's voice called out from the living room.

Putting her veil over her face she opened the door and went into the living room. Steve had changed into a white Tux and black suit while a large green sheet covered the far wall. She noticed with some satisfaction that Steve's eyes were wide and drawing in her every curve. "You look Stunning," he commented to Friday's satisfaction.

"What's the green sheet for?" Friday asked, noting that the photographer had set up a tripod and his camera on the far side of the room.

"We'll stand in front of it, in various 'I love you' poses and then backgrounds and 'family' will be digitally added later. That reminds me," Steve walked over to the case and pulled out a bouquet of flowers, "Catch!" He said and threw them about three feet to Friday's Left.

Instinctively Friday moved over and caught the flowers in her right hand, "Thanks," she looked at Steve whose face showed he was shocked by the speed by which she had moved. People often were.

"You weren't kidding when you said you were fast! It was almost like one moment you were there and the next you had caught the flowers," Steve exclaimed.

"Let's go on with it shall we?" Friday commented. Turning to the photographer she asked, "Right where do you want me?"

The photographer took several photos of her and Steve, her on her own and Steve by himself. She had, however drawn the line at Steve's suggestion of French kissing in the 'kiss the bride' photo. Steve had reluctantly agreed to a more modest peck on her cheek.

While the photographer packed his things away, Friday walked back into her bedroom and took off the dress. One day, she vowed, she'd do it for real, and to someone she loved and who loved her for who she was, not for what she had done.

She put on the jeans and T-shirt she'd put out for the trip and neatly folded the wedding dress up, "You all packed and changed?" she called out from the room.

"Sure, come on out," Steve called.

Friday walked back into the room and noticed the sheets had been folded away, "Where's the photographer?"

"Gone to create our wedding photos. Talking about that, you need to sign this," Steve reached into his top pocket and pulled out a document. He then handed it to Friday.

"Our marriage license? Wait a minute!" Friday protested. No way was she getting legally married.

"It's ok. Without an oral testimony it's not legally binding. We just need it so that should anyone want to see it we have it to hand. This has to be tight, otherwise our whole cover is at risk," Steve explained.

"Fine," Friday complained and took a pen from the kitchen table, "Oh and one last thing I don't want to be a Mrs. I'll keep my maiden name if it's all the same to you."

"Ok, so we're a liberated couple then!" Steve teased.

Friday put the marriage license on the table and signed as 'Ms Friday Carrell', "There all done!" She handed the license back to Steve.

Steve gave a smile, "Thanks honey,"

"One final thing! I'm not your honey, darling, dear, sweetie, or even babe. My name is Friday," Friday snapped. She hated being patronized and Steve's expression showed that maybe he was a little too pleased about the arrangement.

"Ok. Got everything packed? Our flight is in 2 hours?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, it's in those two bags there," Friday pointed to two small bags just near the door. Ironic how once her life filled an entire mansion, and had now been reduced to just two small bags in a rented room.

"Good. Heinlein's arranged for all of our stuff to be delivered to the house, so I'm traveling light too."

Traveling light? This was all she had! "Let's go. The sooner this starts the sooner I get an annulment!"

 

7. Home sweet home

The removal van still hadn't arrived when they arrived at their new home. It must be a new build as the white wooden fascia was gleaming and the lawns had been freshly cut. It wasn't excessively large, but a nice suburban house, typical of millions like it right across the country. Steve drove the car into the drive and parked outside a large double garage. Friday noticed several curtains twitch as they got out of the car. They were obviously under observation by the neighbors.

"Doesn't look too bad," Steve commented as he got out of the car.

"Better than my old apartment any day," Friday said still feeling as though she was being watched. Suddenly she felt Steve grab her hand.

"Act natural! This is our first home together remember!" Steve whispered.

Friday gave him a stunning smile and they walked up the path hand in hand. When they were at the door, Steve released Friday's hand and rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. The door opened first time. Friday was about to walk in when again Steve grabbed her hand, "Let me carry you over the threshold," he smiled.

He can try, Friday thought, "Sure why not!" she commented.

She felt Steve's arms go under her legs and a grunt as he tried to lift her. She decided to be magnanimous and give him some help. She leant back into his waiting arms and he just about managed to carry her into the hallway.

"Woah!" he said breathlessly.

"Nice hallway," Friday commented at the mock oak wooden floor and magnolia walls. Being a new build no doubt it was decorated in this bland fashion all the way through.

"It's got three bedrooms, two with adjoining bathrooms. And just wait till you see what's in the garden," Steve smiled.

Compared to her apartment the living room was cavernous in comparison to her old apartment at around 30 by 28 feet, again styled in the same wooden floor as the hallway, "I'll take the largest bedroom," Friday stated.

Steve nodded, "Sure. But make sure you store some clothes in my room. We need to at least need to make it appear as though we're sharing."

Friday immediately felt at home when she walked into her bedroom. There was easily enough space for a king sized bed, and the adjoining private bathroom was complete with stall shower and luxury of luxuries, a bath tub!

Steve's head appeared round the door of her bedroom, "Come and see what's outside!"

Friday whirled round and snapped, "Don't EVER put one inch of your body into my room without asking me first!"

"Hey calm down," Steve tried to placate her.

Boundaries clearly set, Friday decided to cut Steve some slack, "So what did you nearly make me kill you for?"

"Look," Steve walked Friday into a large conservatory at the back of the house. Outside in the freshly cut lawn was a large swimming pool. Friday's heart leapt and she whirled round and gave Steve a hug, "Thank you. How did you know?"

Friday could sense Steve's surprise but it didn't matter. In her old life she'd used her pool to tone herself to the physical peak of her ability. It was the one thing she'd missed the most. Obviously the fact she'd used a pool was in her records, but it would have taken a lot of string pulling to get one for her to use. Maybe Steve wasn't so bad after all.

The moment was interrupted by the doorbell frantically ringing, "I'll get it," Steve offered. A few moments later Friday joined him and saw the removal van outside, at last! "Since we've paid these people to move in for us, why don't we go out and eat. We can then move furniture later," Steve suggested.

That sounded a great idea to Friday, "Good idea. I'll drive," and she held out her hands for the car keys.

--- oo ---

They managed to find a cheap diner on the interstate and were shown to the table by a waitress who could have been no more than seventeen. At least she wasn't working in one of these places anymore, Friday thought. Looking back on it, it had given her an appreciation for real life that she'd never really had. Bought up with a silver spoon in her mouth, and then graduated into a doctor's position at the hospital her dad owned and then inheriting several million dollars when he sold the hospital she moved to heading up the TGen genetic research program.

"You ok?" Steve asked.

"Sure! Why?" She replied.

"You just looked distant that's all."

"Just thinking about when I used to work in a place like this," Friday commented.

Friday spotted Steve glancing her up and down, "You know my arms still ache from trying to lift you! You must weigh at least 200 lbs."

"Now you know not to ask a lady how much she weighs," Friday said evasively.

"Oh come on Friday, I'm supposed to know everything about you. How come you look as though you should weigh 100lbs but you must weigh nearer double that!"

"Are you going to ask me personal questions every time you spot something different about me?" Friday asked, irritated by the questions.

Steve nodded, "Yup."

"Fine!" Friday resigned herself to having to answer Steve's questions.

"So are you going to tell me?" Steve queried.

"Yeah ok. My real weight is probably around the 250lbs mark. It's all down to bone density and body mass. When I change anything, it burns calories and so my body uses the extra mass as fuel for the changeling organ. So it converts my extra body mass into the calories it needs to fuel the changes. Also if I were to want to be taller or heavier how would I do that? I can't generate mass on the fly, only burn it off and hope to add it later. It also gives me an edge in combat because of the additional power the mass brings to any punch or thrust, and also serves to help me absorb bullet rounds without being knocked over."

Friday caught Steve's impressed look, "Next time don't try to lift me!" she quipped.

Steve smiled, "You did that on purpose!"

Friday smiled back, "You bet!"

"You really are a most remarkable woman," Steve said quietly.

Friday had to smile, was he trying to hit on her? She would play along and try and expand the weakness she'd identified earlier. Steve would be her key to regaining the initiative back from Heinlein. "Thanks, tell me. What was it like being a prisoner of the Guild for so long?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. I've read what Cathline, sorry, Rachel Martin went thru and believe me it's not something you'd want to happen to your worst enemy," Steve glanced downwards towards his rib eye steak; neatly avoiding eye contact.

But I did want it for my worst enemy! Friday thought. She had deliberately ensured that Cathline would be tortured and raped by the Guild. Cathline had endured that for four months, and then again as Rachel Martin she had had her eye burned out with a white hot iron. No matter where she went her past followed her like chains dragging her down into the depths of the ocean. She was free of the past and yet more bound up than ever!

"I'm sorry, I didn't think!" Steve apologized. What he had said had obviously just sunk in.

Friday waved it away, "It doesn't matter. Or at least it shouldn't matter."

"and yet it does?" Steve answered for her.

Friday just nodded.

"You start school on Monday, so you've got tomorrow to rest up. Don't worry about anything, it's been cleared with the principal, "Friday was grateful that Steve hadn't pushed a conversation about her past any further.

"School politics is the least of my worries. It's the kids that bother me. How in hell am I supposed to pass as a qualified teacher?"

"You've explained things to people before, as part as your job as a doctor and at TGen?" Steve asked.

Friday knew what Steve was up to, trying to give her a sense of self worth," Yeah but they wanted to learn. It's easy to teach people who want to learn."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to reach those who don't!" Steve smiled.

Steve's tone was getting annoying, "Look darling husband! Stop trying to placate me. You have no idea who I really am! You've read my file I'm not some dumb ass bimbo."

"And you've no idea who I am either! And yes I've read your file, learned it off by heart. Let me see, you've an IQ in excess of 160, fluent in five languages and apart from your medical doctorate, you have two further degrees in biology and genetics. You are, or were prone to sociopathic behavior with aspects of schizophrenia or MPD and your exploits earned you the rare honor of being classified by Interpol as a 'Lethal' criminal. You used to have a net worth of around 400 million dollars left to you by the death of your parents, of which you spent a substantial sum in your hissy fit you had when Matthew Stephens left you at the altar; which by the way was the trigger for the shit we find ourselves in today! Missed anything out?

"No," Friday felt a tear run down her face, "Excuse me I need to go to the bathroom." She stood and fled to the bathroom in tears.

How could Steve be so callous? She had started to warm to him and yet he pushes her away like this? Then a thought struck her. Maybe he felt he was getting too close to her, too personal and not professional enough. His reaction was to drive them apart again as trainer and student rather than as equals. Then she had another thought. Maybe he WAS getting to close in another more disturbing way. Could he be falling for her and this was his reaction to that. Whatever the answer was she would wait and watch.

A few minutes later, after ensuring her eyes were no longer puffy she walked back to the table. She saw Steve glance away from her and he didn't even acknowledge her when she sat down to eat the remains of her meal.

"You owe me an apology," Friday stated.

"Probably. Some first day of our honeymoon huh?" Steve went back to eating his steak.

"Look, where do I stand with you? One minute your being best buds, the next pushing me away. Is this part of your training technique?" Friday asked.

"Part of it yes. Look, we need to get back I expect to be moving furniture all night to where we want it."

Deciding to drop the subject for the moment, Friday just nodded and consumed the rest of her meal.

--- oo ---

Steve was right, even with both of them flat out it took two hours to arrange the house how they liked it, or at least reach a compromise, although there were still a few personal things to unpack. The last thing to be put up on the fireplace was a wedding photo of Friday and Steve kissing behind an old New England style church. Whoever had done the photo editing had done a wonderful job and even to the careful viewer it looked genuine. "I'm bushed; I'll see you in the morning." Steve confessed.

"Night Steve," Friday answered. Apart from the argument, which she still had no idea what it was really about, it had been a reasonable day. She debated whether to stay up and watch TV or to retire to bed. In the end it was the TV that won, and soon she was channel surfing for anything other than 'worlds' worst' programs. In the end she settled down to watch Cartoon channel and especially road runner.

"Wake up sleepy head!" Friday felt a hand slowly shake her shoulder, "Steve?"

"You fell asleep on the sofa," Steve commented.

"Sorry. I had just had a revelation, but by the time the revelation came I was too sleepy to do anything about it."

Steve gestured across to the TV, still showing cartoons, "You had a revelation while watching loony tunes?"

Friday shook her head, "I needed to get my brain to think, to give it some exercise so I gave it a problem. But I was too tired to make it a sensible one."

"So what was it? The problem that is," Friday noticed how Steve's eyes were taking her in again. This time she didn't mind so much.

"How Wile E Coyote can finally catch the roadrunner," Friday said, a little embarrassed.

Steve gave a loud laugh, it was a boyish and yet masculine laugh, to Friday it seemed full of good humor and sensitivity, "Ok enlighten me. How can the Coyote catch the road runner?"

Friday couldn't help but smile, "It occurred to me that the Coyote's plans are basically sound and that in theory they should work."

Steve gave a chuckle, "And?"

"To catch the roadrunner, the coyote should stop buying stuff from ACME. I mean how can ACME even stay in business if everything they make doesn't work? They have a real quality control issue. Therefore the failure of the Coyote to catch the roadrunner isn't one of planning or resources; it's assuming the hardware works as advertised," Friday's tone of voice was analytical as though explaining a math's problem.

Steve gave another loud laugh, equally as attractive as before, "I'm sure there's a lesson in there somewhere. Come on wifey let's have breakfast.!"

Friday shot Steve an annoyed glance for the 'wifey' comment. But it was only in jest. For his part Steve ignored the look and proceeded into the kitchen.

There was still some sorting out to do, and it wasn't until mid afternoon when they were all done. They were about to sit down and get a beer from the cooler when the doorbell rang "I'll get it," Friday offered.

She walked the door and peered thru the spyhole. It was a woman, probably in her late 60's she was dressed in jeans and a green blouse. Looks harmless enough Friday thought and opened the door.

"Hello, my names Marge, I'm from over the road," the lady's voice sounded as though she was actually pleased to see them.

Friday glanced down and saw that the woman was holding a large casserole dish. Friday gave the lady a stunning smile, "My name's Friday, please come in."

Marge gave another smile and walked inside the house, "I see you've got unpacked already. It took me and my husband hours to unpack, what with his bad back and all."

"Steve?" Friday called out. This was it, the first test of their cover!

Steve walked in, and on seeing Marge gave another welcoming smile, "My name's Steve and I think you've already met my wife, Friday."

"Ooh, been married long?" Marge asked. From the look on her face it was one of her favorite subjects.

"Only a week," Friday said and faked a loving doe eyed look in Steve's direction.

"Ahh that's soo sweeett," Marge cooed, "I almost forgot. I've made you a hotpot , it was my mother's recipe. Did I tell you about my mother, wonderful cook? She died ten years ago. Tragic really, my poor dad, God rest his soul, was so sad.."

Friday wondered if she'd be allowed to punch a blade arm though this woman's throat. It'd be worth it just to shut her up, "I'm sorry Marge we're still really busy. Thank you SO much for the hotpot I'm sure it'll be wonderful."

"I understand, make sure you don't overheat it, you'll ruin the flavor, and still, a woman like you should be able to manage it. That's the trouble with so many people these days; they rely on microwaves to do their cooking. I'm sure you'll look after him just fine," Marge nodded towards Steve, "Such a handsome man, just like my husband when we first married."

"Marge, it's been a pleasure," Friday said and gently started to steer her out of the door.

"It's really nice to meet you, please call round at any time," Marge offered and walked out of the doorway.

"We will, thank you so much for the hotpot," Friday said and politely but firmly closed the door behind her.

"Didn't she EVER shut up?" Friday said relieved that Marge had gone.

Steve gave another short laugh, "Your face was a picture."

"Shut up! I'm going for a swim you can reheat her hotpot and let me know when it's done,"

Ten minutes later Friday had changed into her single piece Speedo swimsuit and was swimming lengths flat out. It helped to be doing something physical for a change. The last time she'd been able to do this was before she'd implanted the changeling organ in herself. This time she felt as though she could go on forever. It was a little of an anticlimax. It was only when, on the verge of exhaustion she could really lose herself and obtain release from the pressure of life. At this rate it would be several hours before she reached that point. Then she had an idea. Concentrating she adjusted her respiratory system and felt small flaps of skin grow on her neck. She then dived to the bottom of the pool and lay face down in the water, breathing through the gills she'd just grown in her neck. Better. The reduction in Oxygen intake was enough for her to feel the same feeling as before.

Suddenly she was aware of a splash and arms gripping her waist and she was hauled out of the water. Steve had a panicked look on his face, "Friday? You ok?"

"Don't EVER do that again," Friday was furious!

"I thought you'd drowned!" Steve exclaimed.

"Look on my neck Fuckwit! And put me back in!" Friday couldn't shout that loud as her she was still a little short on Oxygen out of water.

"Are, Are they gills?" Steve exclaimed.

Friday twisted away from Steve's grip and seconds later was soon face down in the water once more. This time Steve knew better than to interrupt her.

Steve had gone out by the time she'd got out of the pool and replaced her gills with lungs once more. Her hours in the pool had clarified her thoughts immensely, and now she was ready to face her first day as Edison High's newest teacher. She had no idea when or where her next mission would come from, but for the moment she would direct her energies into her day job, training herself to perfection and wiping the smug grin off Heinlein's face.

It was late by the time Steve came into the house, "Honey I'm home," he called out cheerily.

Friday shot him an annoyed glance, "Not that's it's any of my business, but you've been out for hours."

The fact that Friday has missed him, gave Steve some satisfaction, "I've just had a meeting with Heinlein to discuss your training program, and also stop off to have my monthly screening."

"Ah yes, mines due in a couple of weeks! Of course I have to have my results adjusted, otherwise all hell would break loose. So what did the all knowing Heinlein have to say?" Friday said sarcastically.

"He's not all bad. I think you should cut him some slack. You want to know your training program?," Steve rubbed his arm where the needle had gone in, "Tell me, does it always hurt this much?"

Friday shrugged, "The Anti changeling screening program? Dunno, I can numb my nerves around the area to reduce the pain. Like I said my results have to be faked each month, but it's a wise precaution. I'm told the higher up in the government and agencies you go the more regular you need to be screened. I suspect they'll drop the program as soon as the paranoia dies down. I know the Russians and French have stopped and God knows what the Chinese are doing. So, what have I let myself in for?"

"That's the difficult bit. For example, how would you escape from a pursuing force, with dogs and thermal imaging? You have a 40 second lead."

Friday thought for a few seconds, "What kind of terrain?"

"Arctic Tundra. Not much vegetation, and cover, with few remains of snow and ice."

A plan formed in Friday's mind. "Ok, first of all I would have improved my leg muscles to enable me to run faster and so pull out a gap on them. I'd have stripped off naked and subtly changed my body scent. Clothes restrict what I can and can't do, so in an emergency I'm better off without them. I'd then find a depression or snowdrift and lay down in it. At the same time I'd alter my skin coloration to match those of my surroundings, lower my blood pressure and allow the temperature in my body to drop to that of the air around me. Now the dogs can't smell me and the pursuing team can't spot me, either visually or by infra red. Once they'd gone past I could do whatever I liked."

"See!" Steve exclaimed," Our normal agents can't do that and so we've had to throw pretty much all of our standard training out of the window. But first we need to see how good you really are, by the time you get from work tomorrow we'll have all the equipment we'll need."

Friday could now see why her training had taken so long to work out. They had to think of new ways to work and to counter what she could devise, "So you're going to turn our living room into a dojo? I hope you'll do the tidying up?" Memories of her exercise with the bags of sand and the resultant amount of mess they caused came to mind.

"We'll both share the chores. In any case that's tomorrow's fun. You gave me quite a scare in the pool earlier. I had no idea!" Steve admitted.

Friday decided not to rub in it, "I didn't know you cared," deciding to change the subject Friday asked, "I take it everything is all arranged for my new job tomorrow. I've got no lesson plans ready or even know where and who I'm supposed to see and go?"

"Hold on I'll go and get it, Heinlein has arranged everything and the outgoing teacher has supplied you with a weeks worth of lesson plans. That should be enough to be going on with," Steve walked out of the room and came back in a few seconds later with a black briefcase, "It's all in here. I'm sure you can pick it up quickly. As for me I'm off to bed," Steve tossed the briefcase in Friday's direction and she deftly caught it and put it on her lap.

"Night Steve," She said opening the briefcase and peering in at the contents.

"Night Friday," Steve said and walked out.

Friday picked up a copy of the previous teachers notes and started to flick thru them. Within a matter of pages she was shaking her head in frustration, "Wrong," She tossed a page over her shoulder, Wrong," another page, "Still wrong!" Another page was thrown to the floor. Friday sighed. She'd have to completely redo the entire section on genetics before the morning.

--- oo ---

Steve was still asleep when Friday got into the car and drove to work, she'd chosen a simple but smart light blue trouser suit, nothing too flash and nothing too scruffy, a nice middle of the road outfit. A short 20 minute journey along the interstate and she pulled into the school parking lot. The school was just how she imagined it would be. A rectangular characterless block shaped building with steps leading up to a large set of double doors at the main entrance. Standing at the front of the school was an older man who Friday recognized from the photo as the principal. The principal spotted her walking toward him and waited for her to come to him.

The principal was dressed in the same suit as the photo, a gray double breasted affair with a white shirt and drab brown tie, "Hello, my name is John Collier, I'm the principal here. You must be Mrs. Friday Grayson," he offered Friday his hand.

Friday shook his hand, "Ms Friday Carrell, I've kept my maiden name. It's good to be here," it did feel strange being called a 'Mrs.' but firstly, it wasn't for long and secondly it wasn't for real.

"Please Ms Carrell, come inside your first class isn't until 09:30 so we've plenty of time for a chat."

"Friday, please," Friday glanced around and noted that several kids were staring at her. Obviously she was somewhat of a curiosity today.

"It'll be ok. Your just today's new attraction, "The principal said, spotting Friday's sideways glances at the onlookers, "Shall we go in?"

"Please, lead on," Friday replied. It did feel odd being the centre of attention here, but as the principal said, she'd soon be old news.

Friday was escorted down wooden floored corridors, with off white painted walls interspersed with notice boards, lockers and the odd trophy cabinet. She noted with some satisfaction the ogling she was being given by a bunch of football jocks. Soon news of the new 'hot' science teacher would be around the school and the inevitable politics and showmanship that would entail from the kids.

"In here," the principal offered and pointed to a frosted glass, brown wooden door with 'Principal Collier," stenciled in gold paint across the glass.

Principal Collier's office was quite frankly a mess. Books and folders were everywhere and had even been balanced on top of the computer monitor, "Don't mind the mess we're having a clear out. Please Ms Carrell, take a seat."

If I can find it! Friday thought, but she said nothing as she sat down on a worn black leather chair opposite the principal's desk.

Sitting down opposite her, Principal Collier moved a pile of folders to one side and said "I've been fully briefed of the arrangement. We are the only two that know that you work for the government on a retainer basis. I have also been told that you may need time off occasionally but that you are an exceptional teacher. I'm a patriot Ms Carrell. I will do anything for my country, but I also have my student's best interests at heart. I trust that your occasional absences will not affect either my student's education or the reputation of the school."

Friday immediately saw thru his worries, "I'm pleased to be here Principal Collier. You have my word I will do my very best for the students in this school. The country needs patriots like you. These are delicate times and you can be rest assured that you will not regret allowing me to work in your school. I hope I can be as big an asset to you as I am the government."

The words had just the calculated effect on Principal Collier, "I'm glad to hear that Ms Carrell. My brief didn't include in what capacity you work for the government. I was told it would not put the lives of the students of staff here at risk!"

"I'm not at liberty to say what it is I do, sorry. Only that I'm required to go on the occasional errand at short notice. But no, your students and teachers are not at risk," brave words thought Friday. It was conceivable that any enemies she might make in her job might follow her back here, but the risk was small. Schools were much too public, besides let them try!

"That's a great relief to hear you say that Ms Carrell. Would you like to meet your class?"

"Sure," The nervousness she'd felt a few days before came back.

Principal Collier led her across a walkway and into the science block. He came to another door, similar to his own and opened it. "Your class will be here in a few minutes. I expect you'll need some time to setup. I've left the class register in your desk drawer so you'll be able to match names to faces. Good luck."

Friday walked into the classroom and the butterflies became stronger. She calmed herself by reminding herself that she'd prepared for this last night, she had an admittedly unconventional lesson plan ready and that she'd faced far worse threats than a room full of teenage kids. She pulled the register out and memorized all the kids' names and faces; at least it would make it easier if she could remember their names!

A few minutes later she heard the noise and chatter of a group of kids walking towards the door. Knowing that she needed to induce respect from the first second of day one she stood up, behind her desk and waited for them to come in.

She was just in time as moments later her first class walked in. A few were so engrossed in conversation that they didn't notice her standing there. A few of the boys gave her the once over and sat at the back, obviously the class clowns.

A group of girls, still chatting sat down to her left, gave her a quick glance before whispering and giggling. No doubt cheerleaders commenting on her fashion sense. Inwardly she gave a smile, how difficult could this be, just a few weeks ago she had faced down the leaders of Israel and of the Arab world to convince them to sue for peace rather than all out war. "Good Morning class! My name is Ms Friday Carrell," the tone of her voice was pitch perfect. It was intended to put across the desire for discipline and yet friendliness. The class immediately quieted down.

"For those that have been away from the gossip line I'm your new Science teacher."

Groans from a few kids at the back. Obviously science wasn't their favorite subject.

"Now you're here for one of three reasons. The first is because you want to learn, the second because you have to," A few smiles, "and lastly because you've heard about the hot new science teacher and want to check me out!" A laugh or two, better!

"I'm going to make a contract with you all, and it's quite simple. If you want to learn I promise to do everything I can to help you. If you're here to make trouble, then I promise I'm more trouble than you know and lastly if you're here to check me out, then I'm afraid I'm married!" Friday knew that she'd just thrown down the gauntlet to the troublemakers, but that was fine it was now out in the open. Better this way than covert sneakiness.

"Let's start by taking the register," Friday pulled out the register sitting on her desk and started to read out the names.

One of the kids at the back put his hand up to, 'Richard Eastwood' Friday smiled inwardly, it was a old joke, "Adrian Follett, unless you've changed your name to Richard Eastwood I suggest you wait until your name is called."

Adrian gave her a glare and Friday was glad she'd memorized the class list.

The register duly taken she put it away in her drawer, "Now we've got the formalities out of the way, let's start. Your previous teacher, Mrs Tern was leading you thru 'The science of biology' was she not? Right I want you to open your books at page 247" There was a sigh and the sound of bags being opened.

Now for the unconventional bit. Friday walked behind her desk and lifted the trash can from the floor and placed it on her desk. The entire class was staring at her, good she had their attention. "Right have all of you found page 247?"

She waited until everyone had, "Ok Page 247 should read 'The Science of genetics;" Friday paused she was going to enjoy this, "Now I want you rip out pages 247 to 310 and place them in this trash can!"

There was a mixture of laughter and confusion. A bespectacled boy to her right looked horrified, "Yes you did hear me right. Rip out pages 247 to 310 and put them in the trash can!"

As Friday predicted Adrian Follett and the gang at the back were the first to rip pages from their books, screw them up, walk to the trash can and throw them in. The rest of the class was still sitting down. They needed some assurances that they were doing the right thing, "I know this is a little strange. But it's my job to help you to learn and I promised to do everything I can to do that! The pages I've told you to rip out are crap. If it helps let me show you," Friday pulled a crumpled page from the trash can, "See Page 247!"

Friday was enjoying this little bit of anarchy, "Genetics is NOT a science it's an art. 80% of it is science, the rest is intuition, creativity and imagination. You've been taught that chromosomes, proteins, DNA and RNA are the building blocks of life. That's true. But this book says that these blocks can only be assembled in certain ways and in certain sequences! Crap!" Friday paused for effect. She now had the entire class's attention, even the clowns at the back.

"It's like an architect telling you that you can only build square buildings! Just because he only knows how to build square buildings doesn't mean to say that you can't. I've read the entire chapter and I'm afraid to tell you the author of this book only knows how to build square buildings, I want to show you how to build any kind of building you like!. So rip it out pages 247-310 and throw it in the trash. Here! I'll do it to my copy," Friday retrieved her copy of the book and much to the class's amusement ripped out the offending pages and threw them into the trash.

More laughter. One of the cheerleader girls, a blonde with a pink halter top stood up and threw the pages she'd just ripped out into the trash, "That's it!" Friday encouraged. A few more did the same and one by one the class excitedly did the same. "Ok, quiet down!" Friday ordered.

The class, except the boy with glasses ignored her, "Quiet!" Friday added a tone of menace to her voice and immediately the noise level dropped off. Friday noted that she'd rattled a couple of the kids. Good.

She took the trashcan from top of her desk and placed it back where it belonged, "Thank you. As I was saying what the books teach is fine as far as it goes. But it's at least 15 years out of date. You might think science is useless, genetics irrelevant at best and as boring as hell at worst. Whatever you think, recent events proved that we can't ignore the subject."

The bell rang, end of the lesson and there was an instant shuffling of chairs, "We'll start properly on Thursday. In the mean time think about what we talked about today. Class dismissed."

The class shuffled out, chattering about both the lesson and the teacher. Clearly she'd made an impact.

The rest of her classes that day were a little more conventional, there wasn't much she could disagree with on the subject of Frog anatomy.

By the end of the day she knew that her book ripping ceremony would have become part of school folklore, so there was no surprise when Principal Collier knocked on her door asking to 'have a word'.

"Hello Principal Collier, I thought you might drop in," Friday had to try hard to avoid smiling.

Principal Collier closed the door behind him and turned to face her, "I'm sure you know by now that I've heard about your unusual lesson this morning. I was wondering if you could explain it to me first hand."

Friday detected a slight annoyance in his voice, "I understand your concerns Principal Collier. I made a promise both to you and that class that I would do my very best for the students and to me that means teaching them accurate and up to date information. The words and I hesitate to call it information in that chapter was so completely wrong that I would have broken my word both to you and them if I had taught it."

"So you are saying that you know more genetics and biology than the people who write our curriculums?" Principal Collier stated.

Friday nodded her head, "Yes I am."

"Any evidence to support that almost arrogant statement?" Principal Collier was clearly getting annoyed.

The temptation to really freak him out proved hard to resist, but Friday quickly put any compromising idea out of her mind, "I can't tell you, but it does involve the other work I do occasionally. Just let's say in the area of genetics I know what I'm talking about."

Principal's Colliers eyes widened, "I see. So, is the government going to reimburse the school for the property you destroyed?"

Friday could see his mind whirring, "If they don't I will, once the corrections have been made of course! I promise I'll leave the rest of the books intact and I promise that any kids in my classes who want to learn will do so."

Friday saw her words had, had the desired effects on Principal Collier, "So what do I tell the parents when they phone up telling one of my teachers told their kids to rip up a text book?"

"The truth, you tell them that recent events have forced you to revise the way biology is taught and that in the interests of the student's education you've had the offending chapter removed."

The principal stood up, "Rest assured I'll be keeping a close eye on your results."

Friday smiled, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

--- oo ---

The journey home was uneventful and within 30 minutes she was unlocking the door to her house, "Steve?" she called out. No reply.

She put her briefcase down in the hallway, ready for tomorrow's lesson and walked into the living room. It all looked the same, except the furniture had been moved to the sides, leaving a wide open space in the middle.

"Hi, how was your day?" Steve asked from just behind her. How in hell had he crept up on her!

Friday jumped upwards and back flipped to face Steve. He was dressed in an off white Gi with a faded black belt around his waist. "Not bad. I guess you're expecting me to fight you!"

Steve nodded, "That's the idea. However we need to set some ground rules first. For today I don't want you to use your changeling abilities, so no blades, no poison darts, nothing, just your natural speed, power and agility. We need a baseline on which to work."

Friday was concerned, "What if I hurt you?"

"Then that's down to me being either slow or stupid. Ready?" Steve smiled.

Friday smiled, she was going to enjoy this, "When you are!"

Steve gave a bow, which Friday returned and they both retreated to opposite sides of the living room.

Within moments Steve had closed the gap launched a flurry of rabbit punches at her face, it took all of Friday's speed to avoid them. Fuck he was fast! Milliseconds later she aimed a punch at Steve's thorax and was stunned as he neatly moved out they way.

Suddenly she felt a massive blow to the side of her face as Steve's high kick connected with her jaw. She'd not even seen it!

"Come on you're not trying!" Steve taunted.

Friday said nothing, but became more determined to wipe the smug grin of his face. From the corner of her eye she saw Steve low sweep at her legs and she jumped high to avoid them, on the way down she twisted in mid air hoping to aim a series of punches as she came down. But Steve had already anticipated the counter attack and had rolled out the way.

Time to rethink her approach, she thought as she blocked a punch aimed clearly at the bridge of her nose. The power, speed and accuracy of the punch surprised her.

"Not so tough when you can't use that changeling organ of yours are you?" Steve again taunted her; he was clearly trying to get her to react.

Ok, time to stop reacting and take the initiative! Friday back flipped out of range and came up with a new plan, but before she could do so Steve was right on her again and she barely had time to block a kick to her head and a low punch. The high kick had left Steve's solar plexus vulnerable so she ducked down up threw a jab into his stomach, Steve barely had time to dodge as her punch slammed into his side, barely missing it's intended target.

Steve folded up in pain and called out, "Arggh!" she barely had time to register her hit when a hammer blow slammed into her chest, had it not been for her unique anatomy it surely would have broken a rib. Steve could really throw a punch.

Steve had moved briefly out of range, "Better, but still too slow!

Look, you won't hurt me!"

Steve's words stung. She was flat out, and yet somehow he could predict everything she did and was fast enough to react when she did it. Even when fighting a Guild changeling she'd had time to land some blows and think about what to do next. This was like fighting a ghost!

She barely had time to duck and weave as Steve came at her again, punch after punch interspersed with potentially lethal kicks. This time she was ready for the counter attack and managed to dodge and parry each one. By this time she had been driven to the back wall, and an idea formed. She leapt a high as she could and with her legs pushed off the wall, thus flipping her over Steve's head at blinding speed. She delivered a heavy slashing chop to his shoulder and with a crack of bone Steve cried out in pain and went down.

Breathlessly she landed behind him and rushed over to Steve, still clutching his shoulder. Suddenly he twisted and with a loud CRACK a punch smashed into the bridge of her nose, leaving Steve's fist covered in her blood.

"Fuck!" She swore and wiped away the blood streaming from her broken nose. Easily fixable but totally unexpected. She was out of ideas, going by the rules of the game she wasn't allowed to use her changeling organ, only her natural speed and agility. But maybe there was something she hadn't tried.

Steve had got up and was nursing his shoulder, "Never let your Guard down," he nodded towards her bloodied face. Friday smiled and ran at Steve, rabbit punching and dodging his flurry of counterattacks. Her face was now next to his as he sought to push her off him. When they were nearly nose to nose, Friday opened her mouth and pressed her lips to Steve's in a passionate kiss.

Steve hesitated, not knowing whether to respond or push her away. His moment of indecision was all that Friday required. Still kissing Steve, she aimed a punch at his kidneys and with a cry of pain Steve collapsed into the floor, doubling up in pain.

Friday stood over him, victorious at last. The fight now over she repaired her broken nose and went over to help Steve stand up.

"I think you broke my collar bone," Steve said painfully.

"Let me have a look," Friday undid Steve's Gi and examined his shoulder blade.

"OW," Steve protested as Friday tested for fractures.

"I don't think it's broken. We ought to get it X ray'd though," Friday suggested.

"I'd rather not have all that fuss. Let's see how it is in the morning. I see your nose is ok," Friday could detect a note of jealously in Steve's voice.

"You really pushed me!" Friday commented. How in hell had Steve been so fast!

"I know. You were too easy to read. I noticed your eyes flicking towards where you were going to strike me," Steve hobbled over to the Sofa and sat down breathing heavily.

"Did I?" that at least explained how he was able to predict where she was going to strike.

"Yeah, it's a common error, but easily fixed. You learn to read people as you fight them. They leave certain areas unguarded, twist a certain way most of the time, or will follow certain attacks with others more often than not. OW!" Steve rubbed his bruised shoulder once more.

"You sure you don't want to go to ER?" Friday asked.

"Positive! As I said I was too slow and stupid, and YOU cheated!"

Steve complained.

Friday reflected back on the kiss, it wasn't that unpleasant, especially the end result! "What was it you said? Never let your guard down! I'm off to make a coffee, want one?"

Steve was in too much pain to banter, "I'll take a shower and sure I'll have a coffee."

"Ok. So how'd I do, really?" Friday asked curiously.

Steve thought for a few moments, "Apart from the eyes and kissing excluded, and the predictability of your attacks you did great. We'll work on those over the next few days."

Friday was concerned. She'd nearly broken Steve's collar bone, "Are you sure?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah. I wanted to see what you could do, next time I'll just watch. At least until this heals."

"Sugar in your coffee right? Friday asked, avoiding the subject.

Steve nodded, "I'll be in the shower."

Friday walked into the kitchen and put the water onto boil. She glanced down at her work clothes she was still wearing. They were covered in blood and would need several washes to get clean. While she waited for the water to boil, she got a clean cloth and wiped her drying blood from around her face and nose. Its warm taste mingled with the saliva in her mouth giving a not unpleasant sensation. What was it with her and blood? The feelings she had when she had killed the leader of the Guild, Hassan with a deadly kiss came flooding back to her. She'd enjoyed killing him and the return of those sensations it awakened caused her concern. If she didn't know better it was almost sexual in nature.

The kettle boiling took her mind away from these disturbing thoughts. She made two cups of coffee and put one on the table outside of Steve's bedroom and took hers inside her own.

She stripped off her bloodied clothes and ran a warm bath. While she waited for it to fill she drank her coffee and took her Stelazine. Turning to the new Mini CD on her dresser, she put in a CD and lay down on the bed waiting for her bath to fill. It had been, she decided a good day.

--- oo ---

Once again Steve wasn't up by the time she got up for work, she had no idea he could be so lazy. Still what he did outside of her training wasn't really any of her business. She'd put the trouser suit in the washer to try and get some of the blood out and had chosen a modest ankle length skirt with a light pink blouse, normally it was a little too 'girlie' for her tastes but what the hell!

She was still aware of eyes following her every move as she walked into the school, no doubt a topic of discussion was her unusual approach to text books and general demeanour. That would soon wear off as the term went on.

The day's lessons went well, and her confidence was growing. In the main they were a good set of kids, of course there were a few drop outs in the making but on the whole by use of good humor, and coaching they could be kept under control. Much to her surprise she found herself enjoying it.

The living room was in it's normal layout when she got home, she must have hurt Steve more than she'd realized, "Steve?" she called out, almost expecting him to ambush her like he'd done the night before. But there was no sign.

"Maybe he left a note," she said to herself and wandered into the kitchen. Sure enough there was a note on the table marked 'Friday'. She took it and tore it open, the page was blank and a close examination of the paper showed it hadn't even been written on as there was no sign of indentations on the page. Typical!

By the time she was ready for bed, Steve still hadn't returned. In spite of her curiousness as to where Steve had gone she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

She found herself standing on a hill overlooking a middle eastern city, the gold turrets of mosques glittered in bright sunlight, tall buildings reflected back the sun almost dazzling her. On every road traffic was building up, people going to and from work and school. Cutting thru the middle of the city was a large eight line highway, and it was already full of cars. Obviously it was rush hour.

A battered oil tanker caught her eye, it was slowly moving to the outskirts of the city.

"Stop that tanker!" she shouted out. It was happening again.

No one was around to hear her. She scrambled down the hill towards the city and spotted a second and a third tanker moving into position.

She sprinted down until she came to a dusty tarmac'd road. It wasn't far to the outskirts of the city, if only she could get there in time, just the once it would be ok. She'd now lost sight of the tankers but knew where they had gone. Breathlessly she ran to the nearest highway and from the other side of the road spotted a phone.

Dodging traffic she sprinted across the road, barging people out of the way on the sidewalk to the phone, picked it up and swore heavily as there was no dial tone. Suddenly from above her head there was a loud explosion, followed by repeated bangs that echoed right across the sky, "NOO!" She shouted as she saw a fine pinkish mist float down from the sky.

A small boy, no more than four years old was the first to scream out in pain. Red lesions formed on his face and arms and started to bleed thick red blood. The boy's mother tried to calm her son down but now her face too was splitting open in deep red gashes. All around her people were screaming and clutching their faces and arms and collapsing to the ground.

The young boy's face was slowly being eaten away by the pink mist now covering the entire city. The flesh on his cheeks had almost gone leaving the whiteish bone of his jaw, his eyes were bulging with pain as they slowly dissolved away. His mother's once delicate skin was hanging off in great rips and folds of flesh as she too succumbed to the effects of the mist.

All she could hear were the screams of the dying that echoed around from every direction until they swamped her mind.

Suddenly she felt herself being shaken awake, "Wha," she started to say.

"Friday, it's me Steve. I heard you screaming are you ok?" Steve's face was showing concern and worry.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It was just a dream. I often have them. I could do with a drink of water though," Friday was still shaking, they always seemed so real with every detail and sensation being indistinguishable from the real thing.

Steve nodded, "I'll be back in a second."

Friday lay down on the bed, why did she have to have the Tel Aviv dream when Steve was in the house? It always disturbed her the most. At least Steve waking her up had spared her from the most horrific parts.

Steve walked in carrying a glass of water, "Here you go," he said offering it to her.

She took it, "Thanks."

""Want to talk about it?" he asked.

Friday shook her head, "Not really. You know what it was about anyway."

"Cairo?" Steve asked.

"No, Tel Aviv," Friday said softly.

"I see," Steve said, his face full of compassion. He'd not fully realized the depth of her guilt and pain before.

"No you don't! These are my ghosts to exorcise, my evil to redeem, my crimes to punish and my pain to heal. I'm really tired, please let me try to go back to sleep," Friday turned away from Steve, as if it would help absolve her of her past.

Steve saw the tears in her eyes, "If you need me, I'm right next door."

Friday nodded and took a sip of her water, "Thanks. I'll be ok."

Finishing off the rest of her water, she plugged the headphones into her CD play and lay back to listen and to cry herself to sleep.

"I tried to kill the pain,

But only brought more.

(So much more)

I'm dying,

And I'm pouring, crimson regret, and betrayal.

 

I'm dying,

Praying,

Bleeding,

Screaming.

Am I too lost to be saved ?

Am I too lost ?

My God! My Tourniquet,

Return to me salvation.

My God! My Tourniquet,

Return to me salvation.

 

Do you remember me ?

Lost for so long.

Will you be on the other side ?

Will you forgive me ?

 

I'm dying,

Praying,

Bleeding,

Screaming.

 

Am I too lost to be saved ?

Am I too lost ?

 

My God! My Tourniquet,

Return to me salvation.

My God! My Tourniquet,

Return to me salvation.

 

(Return to me salvation)

(I want to DIE!)

 

My God! My Tourniquet,

Return to me salvation.

My God! My Tourniquet,

Return to me salvation.

 

My wounds cry for the grave.

My soul cries, for deliverance.

Will I be denied ?

Christ! Tourniquet! My suicide."

 

(continued)

  

  

  

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