Chapter 13: Pray For Me

[Peter "Levitas" Barak]

They had a manual for him? Cool.

"Yeah, that's me. Just flip to the 'prevent fron dying' section, it's a little important." He grabbed hold of the numerous tubes and wires coming out of the several machines around him.

"It's probably for these. I need new blood, I need my drugs, and I need something to fill up the holes in my side. I normally do this myself, but there's the slight problem that a Russian mobster hollowed out my left arm not so long ago."

He was breathing kind of hard. He didn't normally have to work so hard to get air...

[Judith Kalischer-Zinn]

Judith noticed that "Levitas" or whatever his name was had difficulty breathing. She wasn't used to having someone else's life in her hands. It was a little terrifying. She decided that it was time to stop gaping like a moron and get down to work.

"Right away, sir," Judith said flatly. She hated dealing with customers. Customers never had any respect for the people that fixed their useless gadgets, or took away their garbage, or cleaned their houses. They always assumed that paying for a service made them better than the person providing it. It pissed her off.s She tried to use this dislike to harden herself to the fact that if he died, it would be her fault.

Judith opened the main control panel of the machine. She ignored the instruction to put on thick rubber gloves, since they'd just get in the way. The parts of the machine were quite delicate. Luckily, all of the tools she thought she needed were provided. She began to run a diagnostic but paused suddenly, smelling the air. If that smell was what she thought it was, things could get very bad, very quickly. She moved to the back of the machine, to see if there were any cables or large wires exposed.

"Do you smell ozone?"

[Peter "Levitas" Barak]

Peter looked at the woman with a vaguely stunned expression. Eyes fixed he raised his right hand, palm away from Judith. Blue lightning ran up between his fingers, making tiny archs between his finger tips before vanishing into the air. "Yeah, as a matter of fact I do."

They sent a tech who didn't even know what he was. That was comforting. Peter lay back in the bed. His hand kind of hurt now. Maybe he shouldn't be showing off when he was so low on power.

"I hope your good at what you do, lady."

[Judith Kalischer-Zinn]

Judith watched the lightning dance over the man's fingers. She didn't have time to be shocked or amazed. Instead, she stopped looking for an exposed cable and kicked the manual into a corner.

"Kusemek! Lama ani ovedet eem bnei zonah b'Allmart?!?" she mutters, angrily. She less than delicately rippesd open a panel on the side of the machine, revealing its innards. A mess of blood and chemicals leaked out.

"I know what's wrong. Whoever built this machine is a moron, is what's wrong. The gaskets and lines in this piece of shit are made of rubber. Ozone degrades rubber. You're electric, so you produce ozone. A lot of ozone. They didn't factor it in. Everything's leaking into the machine, shorting it out. I'll have to replace everything. You don't have time for that though, do you? Half that fucking manual is censored, but any moron can tell that you need this thing. Fuck!"

She ran her fingers over her scalp, where here hair used to be. She took out her company phone, and dialed a number.

"Get me as much rubber tubing and duct tape as you can get your hands on. Gut one of the cars if you have to. And a vacuum cleaner, and a few of those of those microfiber towels from Mr. Dollar's bathroom."

She paused and listened.

"Yes, I'm serious. Just do it. I'll requisition something more permanent later. I don't have time. Yalla. Bye."

Judith hung up her phone and turns to the man.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Try not to die in the next ten minutes."

[Peter "Levitas" Barak]

Peter stared at the woman with blank bewilderment. Rubber tubes? His life was in danger because of rubber tubes. Well, that was just awesome, wasn't it?

"Tubes..." He muttered, trying to look at the machine she was working on, "Car parts... vaccum... towel?" He shook his head. If he woke up as a Robo Cop he wasn't sure if that would be amazingly cool or a pain in the ass.

He looked up at Judith again when she addressed him directly. "Ten minutes? Sure, no problem, got plenty of other fluids to leak once I run out of blood."

[Judith Kalischer-Zinn]

"Hm."

Judith almost cracked a smile.

"Let me know if you feel confused or disoriented. The hospitals are closed, and there's only so much I can do about shock... If you can go into shock. The manual doesn't explain how you work."

Once someone came in with what she needed, she got to work, patching up cracks, replacing tubes that were too damaged, and drying out the inside of the machine. A few minutes after she finished, it buzzed to life and began pumping.

"There we go. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to sit around for a while and make sure that this piece of shit doesn't die on us again."

She sat down on a plastic chair next to the bed, and uses a standard issue tablet to requisition new parts made of more appropriate materials. Although the rubber lines had been coated with anti-ozonants to protect from low levels of ozone generated by the machine itself, the designers didn't account for the high amounts of ozone generated by the man's electrical ability; he was like a hundred walking arc welders. The new parts would be expensive, unfortunately, but Judith suspected that cost would not be an issue, for once.

"So, what's your real name? Are you allowed to tell me?" Judith asked. She was careful not to sound too interested.

[Peter "Levitas" Barak]

"They buzzed by Reticular Activating System or something like that. It triggers something like the opposite of a coma state. I'm physically incapable of feeling fatigue. I have to keep an alarm with me so I remember to rest or sleep."

The machines hummed to life and Peter felt the strange sensation of liquid being forced into his very, very dry system. He took a breath and suddenly felt like he was actually getting air in his lungs now.

"Woah... much better, Doc," he said, his smirk reforming properly, his worry fading away. The holes in his side seemed to tighten up, the gapping wound in his palm looked smaller. The drugs where getting into place and his body was working double time to replace the damage. Hyperactive bodily systems had advantages.

"You might just have a future in mad scinence." He shifted to sit up a little more. "I'm Peter. Don't worry, I'm not classifed, just my guts and blood are. Can't have everybody making people like me, you know?" He chuckled and stretched his good hand, new arcs tiny of lightning danced along his palm. "It wasn't intention, you know. Well, not all of it. I'm not what GeneTech wanted to make. I'm a glorious accident. Which also makes me a trade secret. And official property of AllMart."

[Judith Kalischer-Zinn]

Judith shook her head in amazement.

"You shouldn't be alive."

She didn't mean it as a threat or an insult, merely a statement of fact.

"Please, I'm not a doctor," she said with a forced smile. " Everyone knows doctors are heretics against Manala. Also, I'd give my nonexistent left nut for a cigarette, but don't tell anyone I told you so."

Judith abrubtly changed the subject to something less incriminating.

"Wait... You don't feel fatigue? Not ever?"

She paused to adjust her glasses.

"Don't you miss it?"

[Peter "Levitas" Barak]

"No need to be worried about me reporting you, doc," Peter replied with a wink, "I'm what you might call a progressive Manalist. 'Sides, you saved my life, yeah?" He felt amazingly better. His wounds still existed but only in the general sense they were mostly closed, the bleeding had stopped, and the pain while not gone was someplace vasty removed from his immediate thoughts.

"And yeah, I should been dead a dozen times over. Bits missing outta my brains, other bits added in, and my genetic code rolled in on itself. Main treatments didn't take. Genetic theropy is about the most painful thing there is, far as I care. Your being literally rewritten, know what I mean? Anyway, somewhere along the line I 'diverged from the regulated alterations program' and wham, into the special duty program I go."

He gave the tubes running into his flesh a shake. "Still goin' too. This stuff'll be one more step in my continued seperation from the human race." Felt good to talk, even if it was about something he didn't particularly understand: himself.

"Do I miss it?... No, can't say I do. But then who knows what I really think; I've had part of my brain removed."

[Judith Kalischer-Zinn]

Judith relaxed noticeably. One of her biggest concerns these days was avoiding arrest; someone had to buy her husband and son out of Manalist prison. Granted, at the rate she made money it would take seven or eight years for each of them, but it was the best she could do.

"Thanks. That means a lot to me."

Judith was both relieved and disturbed to discover that Peter was human. What had been done to him defied explanation. Every day, she was more surprised at how disposable people were to the powers that be.

"Why would they take pieces out of your brain?" Judith asked out of morbid curiosity. "I mean, if it isn't too personal a question. I don't really understand what the use of that would be."

[Peter "Levitas" Barak]

"Straight forward really, and a brillant example of a poorly thought out idea.

Soldiers get tired. When they get tired their body and mind suffer, even if they are trained to endure fatigue. Likewise they feel fear, they desire things, and they have specific things like either like or dislike. All of this can remain, even after psycological alteration. Logically, the way to ensure it doesn't happen is to change the way a dude's brain works.

So, test one was making soldiers who never get tired. Sounds nice. Problem is that the brain job doesn't stop you from getting tired; it removes the ability to be aware of being tired. You can still have the effects of fatigue, you just don't know it. Hell, I could start running right now and never stop. My muscle'd tighten up, seize, and snap or I'd just drop dead from excertion and I'd never feel it coming, aside from a little muscle pain."

Peter's skin was still pale but not deathly so however his eyes where, if anything, redder than they had been. "So, not exactly the ideal, you'd have soldiers dropping dead because they forget to sleep. But with my particular abiltities, it's practically vital. Overuse of electric generation cells produces massive fatigue, which I can ignore. You'd almost think they designed me on purpose."

[Bambi Engel]

Bambi and Aubrey arrived at Global Bank, but she decided not to wait on Peter. He didn't need to be there for her to fill files and send someone to London right away (hell if she was going there again for a few good weeks). People stared at her gun, but as rarely happened, it had been a long day and she was too tired to care.

She threw the gun into the spare purse she kept in one of her draws before beginning to get things in motion. Annette was absent and she was in no mood to sit around and wait. Normally, she wouldn't cringed at the thought of doing so, but she briskly handed out orders.

Some gave her very strange looks at this, but perhaps there was some slightly wild glint to her eye as they did not question her orders. Or maybe it was the clothes... probably a bit of both. She had another accountant stay on the phone with the employees who had been sent to London, recording everything as they did in case something happened again.

She doubted it, but her paranoia never liked to give her a good rest. After what seemed like half an hour of straight talking to various people, she found herself in her office again with Aubrey, her elbows propped on her desk and face in her hands. She hadn't slept since yesterday.

"Aubrey..." She spoke muffled at first through her hands, but quickly lifted her head. "I would like to thank you for what you did, even if you were simply programmed to." Her voice finally lost its firmness, going soft once more as she felt the urge to keep the gun on her lap. Her eyes still did not return to their usual frantic glancing, but they no longer bore some type of hint at ferocity.

A part of her mind realized she actually wasn't tired, she was still full of energy. It was simply her nerves that had been drained. It gave a strange feeling, her mind being exhausted while her body was still ready to go.

[Aubrey 16]

Aubrey silently followed behind Bambi as they made their way to Global Bank HQ, she was pleased to see that no one attempted to put Bambi in harms way on the way there. She didn't really want to risk damaging her outfit any further than it already was, the android was still willing herself to not look down and observe herself more thoroughly.

Instead, she watched as Bambi handed out orders, and judging by the several bewildered looks that the woman received, Aubrey assumed that she wasn't in a position that alloted her much power. Though, she doubted that anyone was going to go against her wishes today, not only because she had a creditor on hand, but also on account of the unusually wild look she had about her. Turns out, Aubrey had been correct in her doubts, Bambi's demands were carried out almost immediately.

Aubrey perched herself on a chair, and waited while Bambi attended to her business, when the woman finally addressed her, she lifted her gaze, and shrugged a little. "It's nothing." She paused, absently fingering a hole in the chair she sat in. "Though...I am pretty amazing, aren't I? Ridiculously heroic tales should be written about me." She nodded. "One day there will be a book written, detailing all my magnificent adventures. It'll be a best seller." The android declares, feeling content thanks to her mission being completed successfully.

It was then that the creditor examined her charred appearence, the pleased mood she'd been in mere moments ago soured quickly. Her skirt was ruined, her hair singed, the back of her top charred, and one of her favorite shoes missing a heel, she gritted her teeth.

"Look at me!" She shrieked, grabbing a handful of her hair, and shaking the blackened and slightly smoking ends of it at Bambi. "I'm a mess! A horrible mess! This is positively atrocious! I have never looked this awful!" Aubrey dropped her hair, and curled her hand into a fist, slamming it on Bambi's desk, a crack instantly forming where her hand had met the wood. "Where's Peter?!" She demanded. "He should be here by now! This is all his fault! He did this to me! I don't care if he's your boyfriend, I swear I'll kill him for making me look so terrible! I'll! Kill! Him!" This was awful! The end of the world! People had seen her looking like this! Actually seen her looking positively dreadfull! Dreadfully awful! The more she thought about it, the more terrible it was, oh, the shame!

[lb]

For the longest neither Jayson, Frank, Cory, Lisa, or LB said anything. They remained silent, sitting on the sofas in Lydell's house, seemingly watching the TV.

Cory said, "I'm fucked up, nigga."
All five began laughing uncontrollably while trading handslaps and pounds. Still laughing, LB sat up from his half-supine position to work over the coffee table, "Let's smoke s'more." He posed to everyone as a question.
"I'm good for a bit, dude." Lisa said.
"A'ight!" Frank was always down to cheef. LB took a hit of the glass pipe loaded with leaves, held in his smoke while he passed the piece to Frank who hit the bowl immediately after, "Jays- Jay- Jays- Jayso- Jason- here-" Frank was stifling his coughs as he tried to notify Jayson that he was passing the pipe.

"Oh my bad, nigga." Jayson apologized for the delay.
"Nah, you're good." Frank talked it out. Jayson took a good drag while LB got up from his seat & headed toward the fridge still holding his smoke & overpowering the urge to cough. Only exhaling once the fridge was open, he peered, "Damn! There ain't shit to eat up in this mothafucka."
"Let's go to the...umm...the fuckin...yaknowhat I'm talkin bout, right?" Cory suggested.
Laughing LB replied, "No, nigga. You didn't say any kind of shit worth anything."
"Jayson, yaknowhere I'm sayin bout, right?" Jayson just slowly shook his head.
"A'ight then, dude. A'ight. Who's car we takin?"

"Shotgun!" Lisa yelled as she jumped up and ran toward the door.
"Null & void til we outside, bitch!" Cory attepted to correct her understanding of the rules. By that time she was already outside yelling, "Shotgun!"

[Annette Rosenthal]

Nothing was decided at the meeting of the Economic Council over whether or not someone else should assume power over the Invisible Hand. For the time being, it would remain under the control of Ariel Tal Shachar. Annette had enough on her hands anyway with the Creditors to look after.

She returned to her own office and started looking over some papers. She wondered how things in London were going for Bambi. She was gone for a while and Annette did not see a progress report on her desk.

Annette dispatched a Creditor to check up on the situation.