Chapter 3

Mr. Andersen had four kids, so it wasn't surprising that the house at his lake lot had some extra bedrooms--which fit in perfectly with the Master Plan. Victor did, however, want to give Penelope some privacy, since she was, after all, a youngster not quite sexually mature. He found the master breaker and turned on the power. The air conditioner immediately whirred to life. They uncovered the furniture, which was actually quite lovely. Richly finished mahogany basked in the pair's gaze as one after another they removed the sheets covering each item of furniture. The couch, loveseat and easy chairs were plush and well-upholstered. Victor found the master bedroom and began turning down the bed, instructing Penelope to pick whichever room she wanted. Finding the linen closet, Victor pulled some sheets and began to dress the bed. When he finished, he made a quick search and found Penelope dressing the bed in the smallest of the rooms, an interior room.

"Why this one?" he asked.

"Can't sleep with windows." she replied. "Besides, this one has a race car bed." She gave him a little smile, but he could sense something else. He put his hand gently, comfortingly on her shoulder, and her brave front quivered, then crumbled. He hugged her to his chest as she began to weep, thoughts of her parents flooding her mind, as well as another thought. The guys in suits had come through the windows. If she had been a millisecond slower, the barretta, its muzzle lengthened by the silencer, would have put a hole in her forehead too. Victor let her cry herself out on his shoulder. It was best if she gave vent to her grief. Plucking a stray thought from her mind, he found that her father would always fix her hot chocolate when she was upset. He carried her downstairs to the kitchen and made the beverage in the cappuccino machine. There was a bit of a cappuccino aftertaste to the beverage, but it seemed to make Penelope feel better. "Thanks." she said.

"Anytime, kiddo." Victor replied, tousling her close-cropped hair. Victor had cut it himself in a sprightly style he'd seen performed at the beauty college. It was light and cool, perfect for spring on Lake Mexia, and would hopefully delay recognition by her pursuers for a few vital seconds. He unpacked their Igloo cooler, putting the perishables they'd bought in Belmead into the refrigerator, along with the remains of a Grilled Stufft Burrito and taco salad from Taco Bell. Opening one closet, he was delighted to discover fishing rods and tackle. He hadn't thought to purchase bait, but felt a lure would work just fine until he could. Carrying a rod and the tackle box to the shore, where waves lapped gently against the sand and gravel bottom, he checked the angle of the sun. It was probably still early enough to catch something. He chose his lure and began tying it on the string. His first six casts yielded nothing, but his seventh provided some resistance, and the end that was in the water began to jerk from side to side. Reeling his catch out of the water revealed a young crappie. Not big enough to keep, but the catch had added some spice to the day.

"What's that?" Penelope asked, appearing at his elbow as he pulled the hook out of the fish's mouth.

"It's a crappie." Victor replied. "Haven't you ever been fishing?"

"Yeah." Penelope replied. "Dad used to take me fishing sometimes, but we always caught perch or catfish. Why are you letting him go?"

"Because he's only eight inches long and the smallest you can keep is eleven." Victor replied as the fish splashed into the waters of the lake. "The Park Service makes rules like that so that the fishermen will let fish live long enough to make little baby fish and keep the population up."

"Makes sense, I guess." Penelope said. "Speaking of babies, I've been thinking about this thing Zak's got you doing. I mean, is it right to manipulate people into having your baby?"

"I've wondered the same thing myself." Victor replied. "But it's just like Zak said. Our technology keeps growing, and moral people like us are in the minority, and it's getting worse. If we don't spread our dominant, superior genes and teach our children to be just and honorable, then when mankind begins colonizing interstellar space, it'll still be as savage and corrupt as it is now, or worse. We can't have people like the ones that put you in your present position in charge when we do leave our species' stellar cradle." Penelope sighed.

"You're right." she said. "When it happens, we can't have a government that still allows families to be killed just because someone decides to defend the Constitution in their own way." Victor put his arm around her in a friendly embrace.

"The sun's risen too much to catch anything right now." he said, taking note of the sun's position. "But you can practice casting if you like."

"Okay." Penelope said, accepting the proffered fishing rod. He guided her hands, showing her how to get the best distance and accuracy in each cast. It would probably be easier to use their powers, but the easy way was not always best. Penelope's line caught on something. It jerked viciously from side to side as something angrily pulled on it. Victor used his powers to increase the tensile strength of the line as Penelope fought the fish, using her own power to keep firm her grip on the rod.

"Holy shit, it's a big 'un!" Victor remarked, bracing Penelope as the fish continued to fight.

"Ya got 'im, sugah, just don't let go!" a female voice called from down the shoreline. Victor didn't have the opportunity to look for its source as a whiskered face sprang from the water before diving again. The voice's owner, a lithe young woman with smooth legs, sprinted to their side to join in the fun. Penelope's tongue peeked out one corner of her mouth as she held on tight, finally wrestling the ten-pound catfish onto the shore. The woman took the rod from Penelope and brought the fish into the air as Victor scooped it into the net and began the process of unhooking it from the line without getting finned.

"I thought ... you said ... it was ... too late ... to catch anything." Penelope panted, hands on her knees as he small body tried to recover from the strain.

"Y'all got lucky, that's all." the young woman replied. With the catfish firmly netted, Victor could get a good look at her. She was fair-skinned with a bit of a sunburn and her hair was dark, a kind of black-cherry color, and where the sun had streaked her hair it was almost red. There was probably some Asian blood in her veins, as evidenced by the slight epicanthic folds of her large, expressive eyes, but her Asian ancestors had married into an Irish-American family, as evidenced by the fair skin and reddish tinge to her dark hair. Her eyes were green and shone with a proud intensity as she beamed on Penelope. There was a slight Irish lilt in her voice indicating that her parents spoke the old dialect, although her current tone and inflection indicated that her Texan peers had influenced her speech a great deal as well. It was, suffice it to say, an interesting combination of elements. "Ya ever caught a catfish before, punkin?"

"Not that big." Penelope replied, having recovered, but not wanting to seem suspicious, still played at being overwhelmed.

"Y'all live near here?" the young woman asked. "Ah ain't seen y'all around here before."

"Actually we're borrowing my boss's lake lot while I'm on assignment." Victor replied. "It's over this way."

"She yours?"

"We're not related." Victor replied.

"Okay, you win, Ah won't pry."

"Won't you come in?" Victor asked. "Now that we've figured out what we're having for lunch, I figure it's only fair we start on the guest list." The young woman smiled.

"Ah'm Marie O'Neil." she said. "An' before you ask, yes, mah grandmaw was Japanese."

"I wasn't going to say anything." Victor replied. "I think you're very pretty." Marie smiled. "I'm Victor Phillips."

"So if'n yer borrowin' yer boss's lake lot, where do YOU live?"

"Belmead, just a little shy of Waco."

"Whatcha doin' way down here?"

"Recruiting for Channel 5." Victor replied.

"No shit?" Marie asked. "Y'all shorthanded or somethin'?"

"I'll explain about employee turnover later, but suffice it to say the station's execs are tired of people taking jobs with us only as a stepping stone to something else."

"Oh, okay." Marie said. "Kinda hard t'trust workers if ya think they're gonna head on off to the competition."

"That and it's an expensive pain to keep retraining everybody but the executives and the news team every couple of months."

"Ouch." Marie replied. "Ah got a coupla friends that're tired a' flippin' burgers. If'n you could git 'em a steady job, Ah'm sure they'd appreciate it."

"What about you?"

"Cain't say's Ah like car-hoppin' fer Sonic, if that's an offer." Marie said with a smile.

After lunch, Victor put away the remainder of the fish. Penelope turned on the TV, giving Victor an obvious opening. He could tell Marie was attracted to him, but was too shy to admit it.

"Want to go somewhere a little quieter?" he asked over the din of the television. Marie nodded, rising from her chair. Victor told Penelope she could use the phone line to get onto the internet as long as she didn't let herself be traced. Penelope sent back a sort of nonverbal agreement. At least she wasn't arrogant enough to think that it couldn't be done, or that he was treating her like a PC newbie. Victor led Marie into the master bedroom. "Kids these days." he muttered once he could hear it. "You'd think she was half-deaf the way she runs that television."

"Ah reckon." Marie said with a smile. Victor brushed her forehead and touched her mind ever so gently, seeking out the sector he wanted and making the appropriate changes. "I ... what? What did you do?" she asked, her twang completely absent from her voice.

"A little present from a friend." Victor replied. "Usually we call it the Gift of Tongues. I also made it so you could speak to an interviewer when you go in for your next job without sounding like you just fell off the possum wagon." She glared at him, which only caused him to chuckle softly. "Don't worry, you can still talk like Reba McIntire around your friends if you want to. You just have to decide to."

"But why ... how?"

"It's a long story." Victor said. "I'd like to tell it to you, if you want."

"I am all ears." Marie said. Victor began from the night he had been transferring his VHS tapes to DVD and discovered the alien he'd come to call Zak. He didn't go into too much detail about the sexual aspects of his encounter with Kim, but did tell Marie that he had confronted her in Chinese and effectively secured her loyalty. He told her how he had found Penelope, surrounded by government agents and only seconds away from being a demonstration of the effects of small arms fire at point-blank range. He told her how he had taken her home, where she had met the telepathic projection of Zak's psychic self, and of how he had evolved her just as Victor had been evolved. And all the while, he was slowly, tenderly beginning her seduction. He had worked his way up to gentle caresses when he finished the story. He inhaled the piña colada scent of her sunscreen, gazed into the lush, green pools of her eyes, and gently cupped the small mounds of her breasts. She was perhaps half a size bigger than Kim had become under his hands. They were proud and perky, needing no support to stand proudly from her chest, as he discovered once her shirt was off. Marie gave a sharp intake of breath as he began to suck on her nipples. She undid her shorts, sending them to the floor along with her panties as she kicked off her shoes. Victor ran his fingers over her labia while he worked on her right breast. She moaned passionately, her mind drowning in the pleasure.