Cade woke to the sounds of a phone ringing and pounding on a door, groggy as
hell and thoroughly disoriented. His watch read almost six o'clock. When he
tried to stand to go to the door, he staggered and fell back on the bed.
Dizzy as hell, too, and weak as a kitten. He made another effort to stand up
and headed for the door again. When he turned the handle, John and a guy from
Phil's team seemed startled to see him, then John rushed forward and steered
Cade back into the room. The other guy closed the door and followed.
John sat Cade down in the chair by the desk as the other guy answered the
phone and said, "Yeah. He's here. I think he might be sick, though. Yeah. Okay."
Turning to John, the guy said, "Doc Crandall's got the duty today. Do we
need him?"
Glancing up, John said, "Don't know yet. Stand by."
Facing Cade, he asked, "Cade, what's wrong with you?"
With a terse shake of his head, Cade said, "Just woke up, that's all."
"You look as if you've just climbed out of your grave."
Looking up, Cade said, "Well, gee, thanks."
The guy on the phone snorted a laugh as John studied Cade's face rather
critically.
"I'm okay, John," insisted Cade, "Just tired, I guess."
"Just like that, you got tired?"
Shrugging, Cade said, "Guess so. You know I was up late."
Checking his watch, John said, "Well, then, you've got most of an hour to
get to the ops room. Tonight's Mandi show starts at eight and we want everybody
in place ahead of time."
"She's back?"
"Yeah. She's going over a few things with Phyllis."
Nodding, Cade said, "Okay. Half an hour. Got it."
"You sure you're okay?"
Sighing, Cade stood up, spread his arms, and said, "Hey, I'm up and I'm
dressed. I'll be there."
Once he was alone, Cade made himself a wakeup coffee and downed most of it
on the spot. A look in the mirror confirmed John's appraisal; Cade looked as if
he'd risen from a sickbed. He felt that way, too; dog-tired and faintly
trembling, he turned on the shower and shed his clothes.
The shower seemed to help a bit. Cade leaned against the wall and did
several fast pushups under the spray to get his blood moving a bit faster.
As he turned to face the spray he used some of it to rinse the staleness out
of his mouth and discovered an intense thirst. After drinking what seemed like a
gallon of water, the thirst eased somewhat and Cade finished washing up.
His coffee seemed to beckon to him as he dried himself. Cade slugged down
what was left of the stuff and made a fresh cup, then went to get dressed.
Before he had his shirt buttoned, the new cup of coffee was gone and he craved
more.
"What the hell..?" he muttered, realizing that he'd felt the same way about
the water in the shower.
Glancing at his watch, he realized he might not have time for any sort of
dinner, which was all it took to make him feel ravenously hungry. He went to his
backpack and took out one of the two big cans of chicken soup and a P-38
military-issue can opener that he kept in the bottom compartment.
One can wasn't enough. Not even close. A few minutes later both cans were
empty and Cade didn't feel as if he'd made much of a dent in his hunger. Someone
knocked on his door and Cade went to open it.
A guy in a hotel jacket said, "Room service," and wheeled a cart into the
room.
"I didn't order room service."
"No, sir. A woman placed the order." Holding up a ticket, the bellhop showed
it to Cade and said, "It's already paid for, sir; charged to another room, but
to be delivered here."
By this time the smell of a steak dinner had wafted up from the cart and
Cade suddenly didn't give a damn who'd sent it or why. He took the ticket and
tossed it on the cart as he reached into his pocket for a tip.
"Yeah, great, thanks," he said quickly, tipping the guy and reaching for the
cover on the oversized center platter.
When he lifted the cover, Cade found not one steak, but three, and they
weren't the usual ten-dollar restaurant servings. These were big slabs of meat
surrounded by potatoes, carrots, green beans, and more. Beside the tray lay only
one set of silverware wrapped in a hotel napkin.
Cade's cellphone rang and he went to the desk for it.
Thumbing it on, he said, "Cade."
With a chuckle, Mandi asked, "Has your dinner arrived yet?"
"Just now, but they may have screwed up downstairs. There's enough food here
for three people, but there's only one set of silverware and no plates."
Chuckling again, Mandi said, "No, they didn't screw up. I knew you'd wake up
hungry, so I sent up a fairly standard conversion meal. I need another fifteen
here before I can get loose. Save me a few bites, will you?"
"Mandi, what's a conversion and...?"
She interrupted him with, "Oops, gotta go. I'll tell you all about it later,
okay? Bye!"
Realizing she was no longer online, Cade thumbed his phone off and said,
"Yeah. Right. Bye," as he set it back on the desk. Conversion? What the hell..?
The smell of the food was almost overpowering. Cade decided he could wonder
about things as he ate and headed for the food cart. Most of the way through the
vegetables and the second of the huge steaks, he paused to set aside about a
regular meal's worth of food, then continued eating.
When nothing was left but the food he'd set aside, Cade took the knife and
fork to the sink to wash them and put them by the tray, then put the lid back on
it and went to brush his teeth and comb his hair.
The vague trembling had left him and he felt a lot better, but Cade still
felt a bit disoriented and confused. Between the soup and the steaks he'd put
away enough food for half a dozen people, but he didn't feel as if he'd had more
than an average meal. In fact, just thinking about that last bit of steak in the
other room made him wonder if Mandi could make do with an apology and a late
dinner after her show.
The room's hallway door opened and Mandi said, "Thanks for remembering to
tell the desk to give me a room card."
Moving to join her in the main room, Cade asked, "After last night, how
could I forget?" Indicating the covered tray, he said, "I saved you some dinner,
as requested. Are you going to tell me what you've done to me?"
Trying to look shocked and hurt, Mandi asked, "What? No hello kiss? Don't
you want to hear about my day?"
Cade took her in his arms for a kiss, then said, "Of course, milady. Tell me
all about your day, but tell me later. Right now I want to know what's happening
to me."
Mandi shrugged and said, "You're changing. It's nothing to worry about, but
the conversion takes a lot of energy and mass. That's why you were so hungry."
"I'm still hungry. Your dinner almost disappeared."
Smiling, she said, "But now the hunger's more manageable and you can get by
until after the show. Right?"
She stood by the cart as she sliced the steak and vegetables into bite sized
chunks and sprinkled salt and pepper here and there to her liking.
Unable to remember ever having read or heard anything about people changing
due to association with Mandi, Cade asked, "Just what kind of change are we
talking about?"
Without looking up from her efforts, Mandi said, "You're going to become
sort of like me."
With a deliberately noisy sigh at her seeming inability to release any
details, Cade replied, "Not blonde and stacked, I hope. That could take a
helluva lot of getting used to at this point in my life, you know. Could you be
maybe just a little more specific, Mandi?"
Glancing up with another chuckle and smile, Mandi said, "Nothing quite that
outrageous. You're being upgraded, that's all. You'll be bulletproof or close to
it. Stronger. Faster. Like that. Don't worry, you won't need a new wardrobe, as
much as that may actually be a good idea."
Her grinning gaze traveled from his boots to his shirt as he said, "I'm
going to let your sartorial commentary pass. What did you do to me to make this
-- change --happen?"
Chuckling around some potato, Mandi said, "I didn't do anything to you. You
did it to me." Sticking her tongue out at him and waggling it, she pulled it
back in and said, "Like that."
Sitting on the end of the bed, Cade watched her fork up another bit of steak
as he tried to figure out what the hell she was telling him. Like what? Was she
saying she'd given him some kind of disease? All he'd done was lick her silly in
the shower. How could doing that..? He felt like checking his tongue in the
bathroom mirror.
"Are you about ready to go?" asked Mandi.
Looking up, Cade saw the food was gone. Mandi stood up and pushed the cart
toward the door. Cade slipped into his shoulder rig, grabbed his cellphone, and
put on his jacket.
"Yeah, ready," he said. "I'd still like to know..."
Mandi walked back and kissed Cade to silence him.
"Later," she said, "After the show," and she led him by the hand toward the
hallway door as she added, "Just be careful when you handle things tonight.
You'll be a little stronger than you're used to, so avoid handling people in
particular."
"Stronger. Right. Oh, hell, Mandi; on-the-job is the worst possible time to
have to learn new tricks or adjust to anything. How much stronger are we talking
about?"
She opened the door and pushed the cart into the hall without releasing
Cade's hand, which meant that he followed when he might have stopped to ask more
questions.
Cade was thinking in human terms, which didn't prepare him at all to hear,
"If you follow the norm, by ten or so you'll be able to bench press a couple of
tons, give or take."
"Tons?! The norm?! There's a norm?!"
Putting the cart against the wall, Mandi gave him a quick kiss and
grinningly said, "Yeah, there's a norm." With a chuckle she asked, "Gee, mister,
did you think you were my very first?"
Laughing, she hauled him toward the elevators. John came out of the ops room
and waved, said something to someone in the room, then moved to join them.
"John doesn't know," whispered Mandi, releasing Cade's hand, "And he doesn't
need to know. No more questions for now, okay?"
Meeting her intent gaze for a moment, Cade nodded slightly as John caught up
to them. John handed him a 'staff' convention badge and a tiny radio with an
earpiece and a lapel mike, then they began walking again.
"We're all set," said John. "Frank called a friend and rented some blondes
to fill out the..." At Mandi's sharp glance he hastily explained, "They're
actors, Mandi. Frank's friend is in the talent business. He called one of the
union reps here."
They reached the elevators and Cade pressed the call button as Mandi said,
"Knowing Frank, that isn't terribly reassuring."
John laughed and agreed with her, then continued, "Yeah, but we wanted a
full stage. They don't look like hookers, so even if that's what some of them
are, they'll do. There'll be about twenty other spur-of-the-moment contestants
unless they've added some since six o'clock."
Cade asked, "How did you come up with uniforms?"
"The superstore near Ft. McPherson. White bathing suits, boots and blue
spray paint, red fabric, and gloves. Phyllis and agent Vocce took the girls to
room 439, said that making their own uniforms was part of the job, and put them
to work. One of them started to object, but the one who brought her kid along
said that sewing and painting for a few minutes would beat the hell out of
waiting tables tonight. They all stayed."
"Waiting tables?" asked Cade, "That one doesn't sound like a hooker. She
brought her kid? Couldn't find a babysitter?"
Nodding, John said, "You got it. No problem, though. The convention has a
babysitting room so parents can attend panels and the like without disrupting
them. All we had to do was get her a day pass to the con."
The elevator arrived and they suspended the conversation until they arrived
at lower lobby two and debarked. As they threaded their way through the crowd
toward the ballroom where costume contests were held, Cade spotted the Brooklyn
Klingon woman yet again. She carried a blonde wig and seemed in a hurry.
"That's Chandra," said John. "When she saw us bringing in a vanload of
blondes, she got curious. We put her on the payroll for this event to keep her
quiet."
"This is where I get off," said Mandi, pointing at a side door. "See you
later, guys."
As Mandi headed for the door, John said, "She'll put on one of our homespun
uniforms and join the other contestants after Phyllis fixes her face."
Cade gave John the fisheye and asked, "There's no way she can win, is
there?"
Shaking his head, John smilingly said, "Sorry, but no. The best she can hope
for is third or fourth."
"Have the judges already picked the winner?"
Again shaking his head, John said, "No, just one loser in particular. We
didn't see any need to fix things past that."
"What's the prize?"
"There are three. First is five hundred bucks, a free pass to next year's
convention, and some publicity. Second prize is a free pass and two-fifty. Third
is one-fifty and a free pass." He shrugged and added, "And our actors are
getting a hundred bucks each, win or lose."
Stopping by the second set of ballroom doors, John said, "This is your
station." He grinned and added, "Since you slept through the regular briefing,
here's your update, Cade. We're here to watch for bad guys."
"Ha, ha," Cade said flatly as he put on the 'staff' badge and installed his
radio gear. "I'll catch 'em for you, but you have to clean 'em."
"Fair enough. We have people at the hallway doors upstairs, so anyone who
shows up in this lobby is a bogey until proven otherwise. Carter'll let you know
if she sees anything on her screens. All set?"
"All set."
Nodding, John said, "Later, Cade."
Returning his nod, Cade said, "Later, John."