Chapter 4

TUESDAY

JOHN

Oh, please let me open my eyes and find out it was all a bad dream!

Shit.

I'm wearing clothes in bed. I never wear clothes in bed. And the saddest truth of all: I'm writing in this stupid journal.

Last night was not all that much fun. My parents were so eager, so intensely looking for signs that the fracking Program had changed my whole outlook on life, that I retreated into my safe place. And spent most of the night there.

But it didn't take long for the focus to change from the question of why their LATEST hope for a miracle didn't pan out. But to understand how it happened, you need to know a couple of things about them.

My dad is an overenthusiastic supporter of the Program. He sort of has to be. He is a vice president of the company that supplied the custom software the Program Committee (and quite a few other PCs) uses. In fact, he is in charge of that part of the company.

My mom is no less a supporter, but her job as an Electronics Engineer was completely unrelated. It was useful, however. The few times I have needed electronics in my props or gimmicks, she has been able to help. Even better, her company might be able to manufacture the IVDs for us. They did a run of one of our more popular small scale tricks, and did a good job of it. It hadn't made Emily or me rich, but our college funds got a good shot in the arm.

She was also as active in school affairs as her job would allow.

After I made them wait that hour, they insisted that I describe my day over dinner. Joy. I made it a point to keep eating as I talked. When I got to the part about the nature of the Selected group, they both lost it. But for different reasons.

When I described the seemingly nonrandom nature of the group, Dad got a frown. When I mentioned that it included four of the top 5 rated acts in the talent show, Mom asked who the other was.

"Susan Conway, and her Flaming Batons."

"Isn't she the daughter of Bertha Conway, the PTO President?"

"The same. And as PTO President, she is also on the Selection Committee."

Dad excused himself and made a quick phone call. I could hear his "Why wasn't I told?" two rooms away. All the while, Mom was shaking her head and muttering "The Pageant all over again."

Dad returned and announced "They are investigating the selection."

"I knew that."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You rushed out of here before I had a chance to. And it gets worse."

"How?"

"Bridget was named as my partner."

"Bridget who?"

"Bridget Donnache. The diplomat's daughter."

"That can't be right. She was supposed to be exempt."

"That's what she said. But Ms. Ackerman looked in the file, and it said that the board had denied the exemption."

"That's insane. It could create an international incident!"

"I kinda got that impression."

"Do they know who did it?"

"There are two popular theories going around school. Either it was Mrs. Conway, trying to boost Susan's chances, or it is someone out to frame her for trying to do so."

"Well, my company has one of our best people on it. I should have a preliminary report in my email sometime tonight. If it is not already there."

"As they say in the cop shows you boys like to watch, she had motive, means, and opportunity. But it does seem more than usually stupid if she did do it."

I told them about the distract and run Emily and I used to get Bridget to the nurse, and about the hearings. I told them about the thanks we got. I told them about the field test of the VaZap, and the FOSA almost-endorsement for it and the Tunnel Snake. I mentioned to Mom that I would need some place to do the production runs for me, and she said that her employer had the capacity. She knew the designs, because she had helped me with them.

I complained about the effect on the magic act and the other acts, and the other bad effects on everyone involved. I concluded that it was largely a bad thing, especially now, and especially for Emily and me.

I acknowledged that it might be profitable, if we can keep coming up with related tricks and products. But on a personal level, it was a disaster.

And it was likely to get worse. Word will get around about the part we played in getting those boys expelled and prosecuted. They had a lot of friends.

By this time we were finishing desert: Dad's fresh baked brownies and ice cream. I took my plate to the sink, then went upstairs to do my homework.

A couple of hours later, I was just finishing up my homework. As I had worked on it, I was gradually able to come back out of the safe place. Dad came to my room to let me know that they had pulled quite a bit of useful information for the investigation, including some direct indications of tampering. While looking at the papers in his hands, he asked me to name the selected people. Some, he briefly looked at the list and made a mark for. Others he apparently searched the list for and was unable to find.

He thanked me and reminded me it was a school night. He asked whether I wanted to watch some tv before turning in, and I declined.

I sat back down at my computer and started to surf the web. I checked my email, looked at a couple of my favorite magic sites, and then got down to serious business. I read a couple of stories, looked at some pictures, and filled what seemed like half a box of tissues.

I went and showered, and then did something I rarely do. I put some clothes on for bed. Something in me just rebelled at the notion of sleeping naked. I called a goodnight down to my parents, set my mind to contemplate the magic act, and then promptly fell asleep.

And now I'm awake. And facing yet another day of the Program. I am just thrilled beyond words. (For the humor impaired: that last bit was irony).

I was too unhappy to make use of my morning wood. I went to the bathroom and took care of my morning business, then came back to my room. I chose an outfit from some of my old costume pieces. They were usually worn over other clothes, and were designed for some quick-change effects. Unlike most of the others, they looked like ordinary street clothes. I put them on, and headed down to breakfast.

EMILY

The trick would be to get undressed very quickly, without much motion. Preferably at a time when most people were paying attention to someone else. The important parts are location and motion. People's peripheral vision is more sensitive to motion than to details. If they are paying attention somewhere else, and the movements seem pretty much as expected, they won't notice much of anything.

My dress for the morning was actually a swim wrap. I normally wore it over a swimsuit, as intended. It looked like a fairly nondescript summer dress. Only a little out of place this early in the year. I had another, more complete outfit in my backpack, in case of trouble. It would live in my locker the rest of the week.

That settled, I took a moment to type my thoughts about the changes to the act, print a copy to take with me, and email a copy to John. I checked the loads in my book bag and the pull in the backpack, replaced the IVDs in my book bag with new ones, and inserted a Tunnel Snake into myself. Then I went down to breakfast.

At breakfast, I was told that there had been phone calls from the families of a couple of the finger gang, apologizing for their sons' actions and asking to speak with me before things got finalized. I suspected I would have a couple of days for that, at least. There was also a message for me to come to the office when I got to school. That was useful.

My mom dropped me off at school on her way to work. I used the ride to go deeply into my safe place, and to plan a little more. The most distracting Participant arrival would probably be Perry. He would want to make an entrance and make a joke of it. And whatever attention he didn't pull would be turned on Mary with her pretty face and fit, dancer's body.

I would move along the edge of the crowd nearest the doors, normally a more visible position. When I got close enough and they were distracted enough, I could slip out of the wrap, vanish it, and slip in through the door.

I felt bad doing that to Dave. I would have to apologize later. But he would have the upperclassmen there for help. And I needed to get to the office.

I have always admired my magic classmates who turned to street magic. In a stage show, you control almost everything but the audience reaction. And if that is bad, you are still separated from them. But with street magic, everything and everyone is right there. lots of things can go wrong. Your effects have to have a 360 degree view. And if there is a bad reaction from the audience, you are in the middle of it. You plan everything to the nth degree. You practice. You use every angle you can get.

I had everything planned out.

It almost worked.

As I moved up along the crowd, John was a short way behind me. We moved along the wall as planned. We loosened our clothes as planned, in anticipation of our cue. The crowd responded as we expected to Perry and Mary, and when we were sure of that focus, we made our moves. Our clothes vanished into our backpacks right on cue, and we moved toward the door.

But when push came to shove, it happened literally. Just beside me, one boy was pushing another aside to get a better look at Mary. The other shoved him back - right into me! It didn't take him long to figure out he was tangled up in a naked girl. John helped me get to my feet right away, but the damage was done. The commotion drew every eye in that part of the crowd. We fought our way through, repeating the statement that we needed to get to the office. Very important. We used as much as we could of the OBL posture and actions. There were hands all over my body, and more than a few on John. I don't know about John, but I was sinking deeper and deeper into my safe place with every push and stroke.

We finally got to the door just as Perry was finishing his show. He opened the door for us, then stood blocking it for us while telling a joke. Bless him!

"Thanks. Help Dave." was all I could quietly say before we were cut off by the door.

We made our way to the office. If anyone tried to make requests, we were so deep in our safe places that we didn't hear them.

JOHN

Well, I suppose that could have been worse. While it seemed like miles, we were only about eight feet from the door when Emily got knocked over. It couldn't have taken more than a couple of minutes to get there, despite the feeling of hours.

Once inside, we ignored another gauntlet. Between the focus of the OBL and extent to which we were deep in our safe places, I don't know whether anyone tried a request or not.

When we got to the office, we were told that Principal Murrow was expecting us. I knocked on his door, and he invited us in. He offered us seats, and thanked us for coming. His first order of business was an apology to me. While they have provisions for replacing a partner who is absent on Monday morning, or flees when named a participant, the unusual nature and timing of the situation with Bridget made that impractical. Even then, they were going to go with their "plan B" and give me a partner they had selected. But she was absent today, out with a sore throat and fever. Even with the new antibiotics and antivirals, it was best to avoid spreading a preventable infection throughout the school. In the end, this meant that I was without a partner for the week. The others would be there for support, as would the faculty and administration.

From deep within my safe place, I said that I understood. In a strange way, it helped. Without a partner, I was more flexible. I could practice my practical invisibility that much more easily, without as much worry. Now if the others would take over the task of supporting Dave, Emily would also be free. I wonder how close the quartet are?

He turned to Emily and offered her recorder back to her. He told us that the police had downloaded and sealed the file, so they didn't need it anymore. The school also had a copy, for use in the disciplinary proceedings.

The next thing was that our statements from yesterday were ready for us to read and sign. First, there were the transcripts of our testimony about the whole thing with Bridget. Then there were statements about the VaZap demonstration. My Bridget thing was longer, but my VaZap statement was less than two pages. I figured that if we took our time reading the statements before signing them, we would have virtually empty halls as we made our way (late) to class. Emily seemed to have the same idea.

Shortly after the first bell rang, Principal Murrow told us that he would be making some statements about the incidents in the morning announcements. He went on to say that we might be more comfortable if we were already in class when they were read, rather than drawing attention to ourselves in connection with the statements. We agreed, and quickly skimmed and signed the statements.

We didn't need the OBL this time. It was more like the mad scramble. I reached the door to my Algebra homeroom just as the bell started ringing. I rode the tide of bodies through the door and went to my desk.

The beginning of class was routine. Calling roll, reminders about the Talent Show and tryouts for some teams, a change in the lunch menu, that sort of thing. Then the speakers came to life.

It was Principal Murrow in all his terrible glory. Well, not really. It was him, but his tone was only a little more emotional than his usual speeches. He started out with a brief announcement that one of the people called to participate in the Program was selected by mistake, and has been reclassified as exempt. He pointed out that none of this was her fault, and reminded people about the rules against harassment.

He then went to the more serious matter. He said that the school had officially become aware of a highly inappropriate competition among certain students, aimed at Program Participants. He pointed out that members of one such group had been suspended, and were now facing expulsion and prosecution. The school takes the safety and well being of all students very seriously, and participation in the Program is not an invitation to sexual assault. Touching of Participants, ANY touching of participants, must first be requested. If they say no, then the answer is no. If they fail to answer at all, the answer is no. And if you are ever tempted to lie to the police about such an incident, you should think about the boys who were removed from this school in handcuffs for such an attempt. And if you think we are bluffing, ask those boys and their families. Some of them are facing felony charges for the actions you trivialize. And so on.

I was very deep into my safe place by this time, but it didn't appear that anyone in the class associated the announcement with me. It was time for the regular parts of class. We turned in the homework, got back our previous homework (I missed part credit on one problem. Damn.), and got down to work. We were dealing with graphing. Mr. Brown had a reputation for using Participants for sources of data to graph. He looked at me speculatively for a moment, shook his head, and had us open our books to a page with data to graph. The rest of the class went without incident.

My History class was a little too close to my Algebra class for a direct OBL, since it would leave too much time before class started. I did an OBL to my locker, which was in the wrong direction, and from there to History. I knew I was attracting more attention than usual, and much more than I wanted, so I sank even deeper into my safe place.