"Then, no pressure." Nathan tried to chuckle.
"As I said, you need to think of us as your therapists, Nathan. We're here to help – here to get you through this difficult time. It's important that your voice gets heard. There will be people wanting to put words in your mouth. You have to speak, Nathan. You. Only you understand what the Pukes will be going through. You'll have the ear of the nation. You can't underestimate how powerful that will make you. People will attempt to use you for their own ends. Think of us as your advisors, Nathan, the three of us here. You're about to jump into a shark tank, Nathan. You'll need the best around you. And Nathan, I can say without the fear of contradiction, that the team that sits before you is the best."
Nathan couldn't speak. He picked up his cigar and attempted to puff it, but it had gone out. He put it back in the ashtray and tried to find something to do with his hands. He could feel the eyes of everyone watching him. The glare of the x-rayed gum ball machine skull was hurting his eyes. He felt like he needed to get up and walk around.
Then, out through the glass windows behind Peters, Nathan saw him.
Elder Tull, looking in, straining to see through the tinted glass.
He was only there for a moment. He seemed to see what he wanted and then scurried off down the street. There could be no way that he had missed Nathan, sitting at the table associating with three Stems. A wave of shame and paranoia hit Steve. What if Elder told Eydie? What if he told Kevin and Beat and the Prime Administrator? What had Steve done? Why had he agreed to come here? He had to warn them. The government was planning to round them all up. They had to get away, leave the city. Now. This minute!
Steve began to excuse himself when a notion of what Elder Tull was doing outside, looking through that window, hit him. What would Steve had done in Elder's place? If he'd caught Elder sitting at a table, smoking cigars with a bunch of Stems? With the enemy? He'd have killed him on sight, of course. Steve didn't even have to think about it. It was automatic: stopping the contagion before it spread.
Carefully, Steve lowered himself back down into his seat. It would be unwise to step out into the street for many hours to come. Not without a healthy escort.
Something below the table began to buzz. Only Jude noticed over the din of the music. It was the remote control that she'd removed from her purse and tucked into the waistband of her panties. The buzz tickled, but she took the stimulation as nothing but bad news. Nathan's stem had registered a critical shift in his biometrics.
It could mean only one thing: the onset of Stem Shock. He was crashing. She'd pushed him too hard too fast, Jude realized, pulled him out of the hospital too quickly. And Peters with his 'the whole world is on your shoulders speech' hadn't helped. What Nathan needed was a quick punch of seratonin – a couple stabs at the Happy Button. But Jude couldn't risk Nathan seeing her with the remote in such an intimate situation. She'd told him she'd left it behind in the hospital room. It'd be a breach of trust if he suddenly found it in her hand.
Luckily, there was more than one Happy Button for Jude to push. She reached over, under the table, and firmly grabbed Nathan's crotch in her hand. Almost instantly, his cock hardened to her touch. She gave it a couple good tugs, then massaged the bridge of it with the ball of her hand. Nathan looked away from the window where he'd been staring forlornly, and looked at Jude with a surprised smile.
"Nathan? You're hard to read right now..." Peter said. He was either ignorant or indifferent to Nathan's stimulation. "I need a sense of how you feel about all of this. With or without you, things are going to move forward. Waverly and I need to leave here with an idea of what part you're going to play in the coming days. No one can make this decision but you, Nathan, but I'm afraid you do have to make the decision quickly..."
Nathan turned to look back out the window as Jude's hand worked away under the table.
"Well? Nathan? Nathan?" Peters pushed.
"There's someone outside in the street waiting to kill me," Nathan finally replied, turning to look Peters square in the eye.
Chapter 8
Elder Tull hadn't expected his little murder to take so long.
He waited patiently at the mouth of the alleyway, the drainpipe hidden behind his right leg. He kept his eyes fixed on the door of the Puff Club, waiting for Steve's inevitable appearance. But as minutes stretched together to make an hour, Elder began to shift uncomfortably on his feet. He was getting hungry again and his earlier meal of doughy bread and cheese curds was not sitting well. If he had to wait much longer, he'd be forced to take a shit in the alleyway. Even for Elder Tull, that was a low move.
Fucking Steve, Elder cursed, just stick your head out the door so I can cave it in.
The chain of police lights that slowly began to appear north up the Ave told Elder that perhaps he was never going to get his chance.
When the first patrol car pulled up in front of the Puff Club, Elder remained motionless. Perhaps the police were there for some completely unrelated disturbance. Elder kicked the old drainpipe over and let it clatter to the blacktop. It was almost invisible amongst the garbage in the alley.
When three more patrol cars pulled up, followed by the cop's mobile command center, Elder realized his plan was well and truly shit-canned. He scurried out of sight into the alley and retrieved the two foil bags of ButtyNut from under the dumpster. He hurried around the alley's bend until it brought him out on 42nd. Behind him, he heard boots striking pavement and police radios.
He turned right onto Brooklyn, avoiding the Ave. He thought he'd miss most of the police in that direction, but quickly regretted the choice when he hit 45th. The empty lot that had earlier played host to the Brothers of Bannock Revival was now a crime scene with police tape and SWAT members encircling the stage. Elder tried to play it cool, and jaywalked right in front of a policeman directing traffic. Panicking, he broke his step and ran, fleeing towards the Ave and shuffling around the corner with the two packets of ButtyNut still in his hands.
When he was out of sight, he slowed to a trot and continued up to the doorway of his apartment. He pushed quickly through the front door. The lock was long broken and the handle misplaced by Elder many months ago, so the door hung half open unable to latch. This made quick escapes from the police with both hands full of scran particularly easy. A scenario that, until that moment, Elder had never considered important.
Up the stairs, Elder juggled the foil sacks as he pulled the door key to the apartment out from his front pocket. With a bag of ButtyNut under his left armpit, Elder hurriedly let himself inside, latching the door closed behind him.
Eydie hadn't moved from her fetal position on the dirty mattress by the window.
She was asleep, or unconscious, or something. Elder didn't check. He dropped down onto his own mattress and fumbled with the seal of the first ButtyNut bag. The events of the day were instantly forgotten as the thought of another meal consumed Elder.
The vacuum seal of the foil bag opened with a hiss. Elder was rewarded with a distinct aroma of sugary peanuts. His mouth watered and he licked away saliva that quickly began to build in his scraggly beard. He squeezed the foil and a sausage of ButtyNut protruded out into the air like a horse's penis. Despite the mental image, Elder bit down on the brown goo with as grand a bite as his cracked lips would allow him. He chewed ravenously, gulping as the sticky ooze slid down his throat.
It was delicious! Heaven! Elder could not remember tasting anything so exquisite. Three quick bites and his maw was full again. He sat akimbo on his mattress and chewed, looking at Eydie's still form.
He would not eat the second ButtyNut, Elder told himself, he would not. He was going to save it for Eydie for when she awoke. Instantly, Elder knew he didn't have the self-control to follow through with such a promise, and considered waking Eydie before he had the chance to succumb to his base urges. He decided against it and instead resolved to hide the second ButtyNut bag away where he wouldn't be tempted. He temporarily rested his opene
d sack on his mattress, climbed to his feet and picked up the unopened container. This, he carried into the kitchenette and deposited into the small fridge, next to the strange gray ooze he'd made a sandwich out of earlier that day.
Quickly, Elder returned to his mattress and gobbled up the rest of his ButtyNut. He should eat slower, he realized, and savor the meal. But it was only a passing fancy. Soon the last of the peanuty, sugary, delicious mass was devoured, and Elder was satisfied. As satisfied as Elder Tull could remember being for a long, long time.
The events of earlier – Steve, the Puff Club, the Potluck, the Brothers of Bannock – had all been forgotten. The totality of a full belly consumed Elder. He stretched out on his mattress and yawned a contented yawn. His heavy eyelids fell and the exhaustion of the day overwhelmed him. Almost instantly, he was asleep.
Perhaps the sirens in the street outside should have concerned Elder Tull. Perhaps the sight of Steve sitting, smoking with Stems. should have inclined him to abandon the apartment he had so recently shared with the obvious traitor. But none of these thoughts invaded Elder's slumber. For the first time in a long time, Elder's belly was full, and nothing else mattered.
Elder began to snore lightly, curled up on his filthy, sweat-stained mattress.
#
Calling the cops had been a calculated risk; a risk Jude quickly began to regret taking.
If there really had been some unseen assailant waiting in the street to assault Nathan, or if the paranoia was simply a symptom of Stem Shock, Jude would never know. Stepping away from the table, Jude had risked checking the dials on her stem remote. The red light of the critical alert had turned to green. From the biometrics of Nathan's stem, he seemed to be healthy and at least remotely in his right mind. He was sexually aroused at most; as well he should be, with all the work Jude had been doing on his cock.
It was Peters who eventually made the call, bring a fleet of police cruisers down the Ave less than a minute after he dialed 911. They had been just around the corner, after all, mopping up the remains of the Bannock Revival. The police had searched the streets for three blocks in all directions, but came up clean. If there'd been an assailant waiting for Nathan, he was long gone. After the scene was declared safe, the officers began asking questions – the sort of questions Jude would have rather not answered.
She could almost feel the situation moving up the chain of command. First, a Watch Sergeant appeared in a patrol car and took control of the scene. But he was quickly followed by a Police Captain in an unmarked car, squealing to a halt on the street outside. Jude had not had a chance to brief Nathan, explain to him how to answer the torrent of questions unloaded on him, so he'd simply answered the questions honestly... the fool. When the cops started to get a whiff of exactly who Nathan was, Jude felt the whole deal slipping through her fingers.
If she lost control of the situation, she'd lose control of Nathan and the whole multi-million dollar deal would be out the window.
When the deputy Mayor arrived less than half an hour later, flanked by his personal security, Jude knew she'd have to act. She could see Peters and Waverly coming to the same conclusion, standing in a dark corner of the club, making numerous, terse phone calls. If the cops got to Nathan, if they were able to cut Jude out – the threat from some invisible attacker would be just the excuse they'd need – they could control access to Nathan for his own 'safety': media, politicians... everything Jude had been hoping to accomplish for herself.
After a lengthy debate, the Mayor's security team insisted on moving Nathan. Jude was quick to insinuate herself. Nathan was horny enough not to object; he even demanded Jude's presence. As the town car arrived to whisk Nathan off to some undisclosed location, Jude kept tight hold of Nathan's hand. They ran together from the cover of the Puff Club and into the backseat of the long, plush, bulletproof car.
As they were speeding away, followed by the flashing lights of a police motorcycle escort, Jude kissed Nathan hungrily. Nathan was momentarily surprised, but he quickly began kissing her back. Soon she was astride him, bouncing softly on his lap, exploring his mouth with her tongue. He had her shirt open, cupping her firm breasts through the thin bra. As the town car pulled onto the freeway, heading back towards the downtown core, Jude was on her knees fumbling with buttons and zippers. She took Nathan into her mouth, where he quickly reached a gushing climax. It was an orgasm like nothing Nathan could remember... helped along, perhaps, by a timely nudge on the Happy Button by Jude.
Nathan collapsed across the backseat, spent.
"Won't that short circuit your stem or something?" Nathan chuckled as Jude licked her lips, pulling herself up onto the backseat beside him.
"Common misconception, even among the implanted," Jude said, not totally forgetting her duties as Nathan's midwife. "The Whole Life Interface doesn't preclude eating and drinking. It just makes it unnecessary. It's always been a backup subroutine in all stem versions from the very beginning, should an implantee find themselves without any source of electrical energy." Jude lay down on the large seat next to Nathan, curling up into the notch formed by his body. He rested a hand on her smooth thigh.
"Stems can eat? They just don't want to?"
"Don't need to, no," Jude corrected. "But should it be necessary, the WLI can draw energy from consumed matter."
Nathan found this funny, chuckling softly into Jude's soft, sweet-smelling hair. "But you'd rather just plug into a wall?"
"Of course," Jude replied sleepily. "Who wouldn't? It's clean, produces no waste, and with the network of fusion reactors–" Jude stopped herself, twisting to face Nathan and raising herself up onto her elbow. "You know you're a Stem now, don't you? You can stop referring to 'them' in the third person. And no one but a Puke would call anyone a 'Stem'. It's foolish, like calling people 'humans.'"
Nathan was a little taken aback, but any irritation he felt was soon lost in the pleasant warmth of the afterglow. He brushed a stray hair away from Jude's face and smiled. "I'm sorry, it's all still so new."
Jude twisted again, back to spooning, and lay her head down on the seat. "I'm sorry, too. I haven't been doing my job very well. This isn't how it normally goes, you understand... the process of transitioning a new implant recipient..."
"You mean you don't provide this service to all your clients?" Nathan smirked. Jude elbowed him in the ribs.
"You're special, Nathan," Jude purred.
"Yes, so everyone keeps telling me. Was everything back there on the level? What Peters and Waverly were saying?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then this is really the end? For all the Pukes?"
"Not the end, sweetheart. A new beginning. They'll be better off, you understand, where the Government can feed them."
"But it's so... final." The car was slowing, pulling off the freeway.
"We're almost there. Better get dressed," Jude said, sitting up, re-buttoning her shirt.
"Where are we going?" Nathan finally thought to ask as he zipped up his pants.
"I don't know," Jude said honestly.
"What?"
"I don't know." Jude looked at herself in the reflection of the side window. She was tussled, but otherwise presentable. "It's complicated. This is the work of the Mayor's office. Some secure location. If there's a real threat on your life, you'll be safe here."
"Mayor?"
"It's complicated," Jude repeated.
"You'll be with me, though, right?" Nathan said, looking out the window. The town car was on the surface streets of the downtown, stopped at a red light. "I mean, you're not going away?"
Jude smiled and took Nathan's hand reassuringly. It was what she'd hoped to hear. Below her, on the floor of the town car, she gave the small remote a shove with her toe, knocking it out of sight under the front seat. She wouldn't be needing it anymore, she thought, the situation was now under her control.
Well worth taking a shot in the mouth for, Jude pondered silently.
Chapter 9
> The Prime Administrator had the dubious distinction of being the world's only fat Puke. He stood six foot six, and weighed in at over three hundred pounds. He looked out at the world through a classic pair of corrective aviator-style spectacles, and over a thick beard he kept neatly trimmed.
It was only those that remembered Prime from his college days, like Elder, Steve and Kevin, who called him the Prime Administrator. To everyone else, he was known as Leatherface, after the Texas cannibal. Rumor was that Prime was able to maintain his robust physique by luring, murdering, and then consuming Stems by the dozen. It was a preposterous notion to anyone who actually knew Prime: he'd never even touch a Stem, no less eat one. He'd always been the most militant anti-Stem Puke Elder had ever known.
Once upon a time, Madame Damnable's had been a cozy basement pub just off campus, hangout to a mix of students, beatniks and bohemians. It sat derelict now, as the Ave had been overtaken by Puff Clubs and Smoke Shops, catering to the Stems. With a crowbar, however, and a little electrical work, Madame Damnable's could be restored to some shade of its former glory. For Prime's Potluck, he had done just that, prying off the plywood that covered the top of the old pub's long stairway entrance, and changing out a slew of old, broken light bulbs with small, efficient fluorescent tubes.
Prime stood behind the bar, dressed in a large, loud Hawaiian shirt, sipping grain alcohol from a martini glass, and laughing at his own jokes.
Everyone was there – possibly every Puke in the City of Seattle. The barroom floor was shoulder to shoulder as Pukes lined up to help themselves to the sumptuous buffet Prime had laid out on a series of folding tables. Everything from bread to cheese to meat was in attendance. A keg of something mildly honey-tasting had been pumped into one of the bar's old taps, and bottles of Prime's grain liquor sat on the dusty shelf behind him.
Reportedly, all of it had come from Bannock. Prime had actually visited the fantasy realm and returned with the bounty. Curious and tantalized by the idea that Bannock was a real, physical place, Elder had almost forgotten to line up to sample the buffet. Luckily, good sense had gotten the better of him, and it wasn't until he had two plastic plates full of food – one for him and one for Eydie – that he returned to the bar to question Prime in regards to Bannock's actual existence.