"I knew that."
"You knew?"
He looked a little defensive. "Sure. I told you, back when you had mehanging out with Debra's gang."
Had I asked him to hang out with Debra? As I remembered it, it had beenhis suggestion. Too much to think about.
"But what does it mean, Dan? Is he an ally? Should we try to recruithim? Or is he the one that'd convinced Debra she needs to take over theMansion?"
Dan shook his head. "I'm not even sure that she wants to take over theMansion. I know Debra, all she wants to do is turn ideas into things, asfast and as copiously as possible. She picks her projects carefully.She's acquisitive, sure, but she's cautious. She had a great idea forPresidents, and so she took over. I never heard her talk about theMansion."
"Of course you didn't. She's cagey. Did you hear her talk about the Hallof Presidents?"
Dan fumbled. "Not really. . . I mean, not in so many words, but --"
"But nothing," I said. "She's after the Mansion, she's after the MagicKingdom, she's after the Park. She's taking over, goddamn it, and I'mthe only one who seems to have noticed."
#
I came clean to Lil about my systems that night, as we were fighting.Fighting had become our regular evening pastime, and Dan had taken tosleeping at one of the hotels on-site rather than endure it.
I'd started it, of course. "We're going to get killed if we don't getoff our asses and start the rehab," I said, slamming myself down on thesofa and kicking at the scratched coffee table. I heard the hysteria andunreason in my voice and it just made me madder. I was frustrated by notbeing able to check in on Suneep and Dan, and, as usual, it was too lateat night to call anyone and do anything about it. By the morning, I'dhave forgotten again.
From the kitchen, Lil barked back, "I'm doing what I can, Jules. Ifyou've got a better way, I'd love to hear about it."
"Oh, bullshit. I'm doing what I can, planning the thing out. I'm readyto _go_. It was your job to get the ad-hocs ready for it, but you keeptelling me they're not. When will they be?"
"Jesus, you're a nag."
"I wouldn't nag if you'd only fucking make it happen. What are you doingall day, anyway? Working shifts at the Mansion? Rearranging deck chairson the Great Titanic Adventure?"
"I'm working my fucking _ass_ off. I've spoken to every goddamn one ofthem at least twice this week about it."
"Sure," I hollered at the kitchen. "Sure you have."
"Don't take my word for it, then. Check my fucking phone logs."
She waited.
"Well? Check them!"
"I'll check them later," I said, dreading where this was going.
"Oh, no you _don't_," she said, stalking into the room, fuming. "Youcan't call me a liar and then refuse to look at the evidence." Sheplanted her hands on her slim little hips and glared at me. She'd gonepale and I could count every freckle on her face, her throat, hercollarbones, the swell of her cleavage in the old vee-neck shirt I'dgiven her on a day-trip to Nassau.
"Well?" she asked. She looked ready to wring my neck.
"I can't," I admitted, not meeting her eyes.
"Yes you can -- here, I'll dump it to your public directory."
Her expression shifted to one of puzzlement when she failed to locate meon her network. "What's going on?"
So I told her. Offline, outcast, malfunctioning.
"Well, why haven't you gone to the doctor? I mean, it's been _weeks_.I'll call him right now."
"Forget it," I said. "I'll see him tomorrow. No sense in getting him outof bed."
But I didn't see him the day after, or the day after that. Too much todo, and the only times I remembered to call someone, I was too far froma public terminal or it was too late or too early. My systems cameonline a couple times, and I was too busy with the plans for theMansion. Lil grew accustomed to the drifts of hard copy that litteredthe house, to printing out her annotations to my designs and leavingthem on my favorite chair -- to living like the cavemen of theinformation age had, surrounded by dead trees and ticking clocks.
Being offline helped me focus. Focus is hardly the word for it -- Iobsessed. I sat in front of the terminal I'd brought home all day, everyday, crunching plans, dictating voicemail. People who wanted to reach mehad to haul ass out to the house, and _speak_ to me.
I grew too obsessed to fight, and Dan moved back, and then it was myturn to take hotel rooms so that the rattle of my keyboard wouldn't keephim up nights. He and Lil were working a full-time campaign to recruitthe ad-hoc to our cause, and I started to feel like we were finally inharmony, about to reach our goal.
I went home one afternoon clutching a sheaf of hardcopy and burst intothe living room, gabbling a mile-a-minute about a wrinkle on my originalplan that would add a third walk-through segment to the ride, increasingthe number of telepresence rigs we could use without decreasingthroughput.
I was mid-babble when my systems came back online. The public chatter inthe room sprang up on my HUD.
_And then I'm going to tear off every stitch of clothing and jump you._
_And then what?_
_I'm going to bang you till you limp. _
_Jesus, Lil, you are one rangy cowgirl._
My eyes closed, shutting out everything except for the glowing letters.Quickly, they vanished. I opened my eyes again, looking at Lil, who wasflushed and distracted. Dan looked scared.
"What's going on, Dan?" I asked quietly. My heart hammered in my chest,but I felt calm and detached.
"Jules," he began, then gave up and looked at Lil.
Lil had, by that time, figured out that I was back online, that theirsecret messaging had been discovered.
"Having fun, Lil?" I asked.
Lil shook her head and glared at me. "Just go, Julius. I'll send yourstuff to the hotel."
"You want me to go, huh? So you can bang him till he limps?"
"This is my house, Julius. I'm asking you to get out of it. I'll see youat work tomorrow -- we're having a general ad-hoc meeting to vote on therehab."
It was her house.
"Lil, Julius --" Dan began.
"This is between me and him," Lil said. "Stay out of it."
I dropped my papers -- I wanted to throw them, but I dropped them,_flump_, and I turned on my heel and walked out, not bothering to closethe door behind me.
#
Dan showed up at the hotel ten minutes after I did and rapped on mydoor. I was all-over numb as I opened the door. He had a bottle oftequila -- _my_ tequila, brought over from the house that I'd sharedwith Lil.
He sat down on the bed and stared at the logo-marked wallpaper. I tookthe bottle from him, got a couple glasses from the bathroom and poured.
"It's my fault," he said.
"I'm sure it is," I said.
"We got to drinking a couple nights ago. She was really upset. Hadn'tseen you in days, and when she _did_ see you, you freaked her out.Snapping at her. Arguing. Insulting her."
"So you made her," I said.
He shook his head, then nodded, took a drink. "I did. It's been a longtime since I. . ."
"You had sex with my girlfriend, in my house, while I was away,working."
"Jules, I'm sorry. I did it, and I kept on doing it. I'm not much of afriend to either of you.
"She's pretty broken up. She wanted me to come out here and tell you itwas all a mistake, that you were just being paranoid."
We sat in silence for a long time. I refilled his glass, then my own.
"I couldn't do that," he said. "I'm worried about you. You haven't beenright, not for months. I don't know what it is, but you should get to adoctor."
"I don't need a doctor," I snapped. The liquor had melted the numbnessand left burning anger and bile, my constant companions. "I need afriend who doesn't fuck my girlfriend when my back is turned."
I threw my glass at the wall. It bounced off, leaving tequila-stains onthe wallpaper, and rolled under the bed. Dan started, but stayed seated.If he'd stood up, I would've hit him. Dan's good at crises.
"If it's any consolation, I expect to be dead pretty soon," he said. Hegave me a wry grin. "My Whuffie's doing good. This rehab should take itup over the top. I'll be ready to go."
That stopped me. I'd somehow managed to forget that Dan, my good friendDan, was going to kill himself.
"You're going to do it," I said, sitting down next to him. It hurt tothink about it. I really liked the bastard. He might've been my bestfriend.
There was a knock at the door. I