Nurse Venus

He'd put eight months into the investigation that had started out with the disappeared van. Every time he had stumbled onto a lead, it had come to a dead end. The association of the Gonsoles girl with Kevin Jones looked to be just a coincidence--he still felt it wasn't, but he just could not think of a way that coincidence was really connected to the anomalies.

Dr. Alvarson's mansion was not some kind of secret prison for people who knew too much; it was a chaotic place that resembled one of the communes of the sixties more than anything else--the people who lived there or kept coming back seemed like one big family. Maybe what they were hiding had something to do with that. Maybe it was really a group marriage; the kids seemed to be a very mixed bunch. Or maybe some of them were illegal immigrants; INS was getting tight about that again . . . illegal adoptions. There were lots of things they could be desperate to hide that had nothing to do with the "anomalies" the NSA was trying to cover up.

Ironically, the only affect his efforts had had so far was unintentional. The rumor he had started with Jackie Jones about "secret weapon testing" had spread and become part of the ghetto mythos across the country. More tabloid stories, more trash TV, more bad movies coming . . .

And there weren't even any more of the magic girl/angel stories, at least in the Bay Area, not that Crawford believed would be covering anomalies. The Angels of Macon might be covering something, but Crawford didn't feel that he would find anything by going there now. It was already legend, and legend always wins over fact.

Maybe it was time to give up, or at least put this one on the back burner for now.

Crawford smiled, and shook his head. The one who was at the start of all this, Lisette Pinatabo, he still hadn't spoken with. Like every Filipino family that Crawford had gotten to know, the brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins were all close, and Crawford was confident that Lisette and her parents hadn't been disappeared. If they had, the rest of the Pinatabos and the entire Filipino community would have been up in arms--they were not a constituency the Feds took lightly. But where Lisette was, they wouldn't tell, and Crawford couldn't ferret out. That was frustrating him more than anything else; he had found people in Witness Protection before.

When the second game was over, he switched off the VCR and the TV. He decided to go out. Strolling around Lake Merrit might help chase his blues away.

"Yeah?"

"He'll be at the lake. Soon." That was the end of the call.

Marvell had just changed his bodyguards a week before. He had no particular reason for it; he just thought it was time. Nothing personal. Nothing with Marvell was really personal, except with Moms and Kev, and maybe . . . maybe Olivia. If he kept her much longer he was going to have to tell Moms.

He shrugged.

Tombs, the driver, said, "Whatcha thinkin', boss-man?"

Marvell said, "A fool girl . . . Watch your driving, Tombs."

Tombs said, "I am, boss-man," Tombs dropped his act for a serious moment. "We still have our tail. Should I lose him?"

Marvell looked back. "No. Just local cops. I'm just going to see Moms and Kev. Good work, though. Keep lookin'."

Tombs said, "I'm always lookin', boss-man. I likes stayin' alive!"

Marvell smiled at Tombs' Stepin Fetchit act. "Yeah . . . you got to always be lookin', Tombs."

The Lord of the Blues had a lot on his mind. The Reds didn't have a boss for California now; the old one had just died--a stroke. Just died, and now a half-dozen underbosses were maneuvering to replace him. They all wanted Marvell's help. But Marvell wasn't going to commit until he was sure he was backing a winner. Anyway, it was the Reds' business. Marvell wasn't about to break the truce just to piss around in their politics. When he could pick a winner, he might ask for a bigger slice, taken out of the operations of the losers, but that was just a might.

Marvell would never be a truly educated man, but he could read, and he liked to read about leaders, even white ones, if they were good. He remembered someone saying of Napoleon that his mistake was not knowing when to stop, of grabbing more than he could really control. Marvell had seen that often enough. That is why he had never really tried to expand beyond Northern California. This was all he could really keep under his own eye, and it was always hard.

No, he'd ask for the bigger slice, but he'd settle for just some token concessions.

He looked out the armor glass windows, and saw little boys playing shootout in the greenway under the elevated train tracks. They didn't take aimed shots like cowboys when he'd been a kid; they made like they were spraying with Uzis and Macs and AKs.

The problem with the last leader of the Reds was that he had killed off every one of his really smart underbosses. Marvell didn't trust any of the ones that were left. They didn't have much more sense than the kids shooting with their fingers. And some of them were taking his refusal to interfere as an insult. They still thought it was a game, not a business. How had they lasted this long?

"I thought Miz Chiba was coming," said Kevin.

"No," answered Minako, "Your brother will be there. It's better if she doesn't come. They just don't get along."

Kevin said, "Moms thinks she is coming."

"We will just say she isn't feeling well," said Minako.

"Moms won't believe it," said Kevin.

Minako said, "No, but it is better than saying that Usagi hates your brother. I am sure your mother knows that. And this is our day. Your mother can visit Usagi-chan any time."

"Yeah, I guess." Kevin Jones found it odd; he hadn't really wanted Mrs. Chiba to come along, but now that she wasn't, it was something marring this perfect day.

The "camping trip" everyone else was on was really a cover for a mission. Someone was taking children from Chicago, always in the daytime. They needed Ishtar, of course, because her emotion-sensing power had more range than anything else; she was the best chance they had of catching the man in the act of taking a child. It was the biggest combined operation the senshi had ever mounted; all of them were there, except Usagi and Minako. Nothing might come of it, of course, but it had to be tried.

Naru was with Umino and all the other children at Mercurius. Besides minding the children, they could help if Usagi needed to get into a computer system quickly, and had more help at hand for that.

After Minako and her family left for their outing, Usagi was alone in the mansion. The elevator was finally reliable, replaced completely by some men with purple hair who had broken for meals of cornflakes and vinegar. The other senshi wouldn't have left her alone without a reliable elevator.

She stayed down in the conference room in the second basement, watching colored dots move across the map on the big screen, zooming in to resolve them into more dots representing people. This pink was Chibi-Usa; that pink one was Kimi-chan; that black one with the red center was Mamoru. They were near place called Wrigley Field. Usagi wondered why the Americans would name a place for chewing gum.

Marvell Jones looked at Kevin walk off toward the boat dock, marveling at how well he was able to move on his canes. Then he stared down at the tiny hand holding his finger. Achilles looked at him fearlessly with his deep brown eyes.

"Looks just like you when you were a baby," said Moms.

Marvell said, "He looks just like any other little baby. No hair and no teeth. And he's so light. Lighter than Isis."

Moms said, "He'll get darker. You were pretty light for awhile."

Marvell said, "I guess . . . Tombs, take us up to Skyline. We'll stop a few minutes and come back." He turned back to his mother. "Moms."

"Yes, Marvell?"

Marvell said, "There's a girl I've been seeing a lot . . . Name's Olivia."

"Yes," said Moms.

"Maybe you should meet her," said Marvell.

Now Isis had his finger.

John Crawford was still strolling, coming up on his first lap of the lake, and thinking about whether he should do another. Still a lot of blues to leave behind . . .

He noticed John Shaw sitting in a car with another man. Obviously surveillance; Shaw have him the merest raise of an eyebrow as Crawford looked over. Then Shaw pulled out in his car.

Looking up ahead, he saw a long Benz pulling onto the drive . . . Marvell Jones'. Shaw took another look at the single boat in the lake. <Damn. Kevin and the wife.> He'd come out to the park to get away from the story for awhile, and here it was again.

He stopped, and actually got off the walk and sat down on the grassy slope that led down to the lake. He looked out at the boat, to his side at Marvell the big gangster, and up in the sky. The blimp he had seen cruising around was far to the south, but it was coming back.

Jean Sauvage was a French citizen, married to a Senegalese. He'd come with his wife and children to visit his wife's sister's family in Oakland, and found the city surprising. He'd brought his video camera to the lake. He noticed the boat coming up, and he thought it would be nice if he could get a shot of his family and relatives and the boat, especially as the shadow of the blimp passed over.

"I think it was here," said Minako.

"No," said Kevin. "You asked me to marry you back there."

"But it was here you started to tell me you loved me," said Minako.

She set down the oars and got up to kiss him.

It had been an easy drive up to Skyline for a change. Marvell and his mother were at an overlook, with the babies between them, looking out at the city, where a blimp was starting to fly over Lake Merrit. They could just make out a speck that would be the boat.

"Olivia . . ." said Moms. "What's wrong with her?"

Marvell continued to look toward the city. "She's Filipino, Moms. Catholic, too."

Moms said, "Well . . . at least she's Christian. I do wonder if I ever will really get Kevin's wife into the Church."

"That's--" Marvell was going to say <not what I expected you would say,> but his cellphone rang. Annoyed, he opened it. "What?" he said, dropping his usual phone courtesy.

"Marvell, this is B. Q."

"B. Q.?" <Bill Quincy.> Probably the stupidest of the Red underbosses now, the one Marvell was most sure would have to go before the Reds settled on a workable leadership.

B.Q. said, "Sorry to bother you when you with your moms, but you might want to think about your moms."

Marvell said, "What the . . . what do you mean?"

B.Q. said, "Think about your moms the next time I ask you to help. And remember Kev."

Crawford had been looking at the couple in the boat, like a lot of people around the lake. If Jack Crawford had ever been in combat, he would have been rolling down as soon as he saw what was happening. He heard the sounds coming from across the lake: horns blaring, doors opening, peculiar metallic sounds . . . and looked beyond the boat and saw a lot of young African-American men, all with guns--except one which had something worse . . .

Kevin got up to meet Minako's kiss, and the boat began to wobble. That is when he spotted the shooters spilling out of their cars.

Kevin Jones had seen combat. The instant he saw them, he grabbed Minako and pushed her into the water. And, of course, fell in himself . . .

The camera crew in the blimp were really just waiting for the game to start, although there were ten-second cut-ins on the national feed for game teasers. They just happened to be coming up on one when they neared the lake. The camaraman persuaded the others that the best shot would be to start from the lake, zoomed in on the couple in the boat, then zoom out and pan up to the Coliseum.

The announcer looked at the feed. "Here are two people are warming up for the game in Oakland, California, at six o'clock eastern, five Central, and three Pacific time." It was a nice shot, the couple standing up to kiss just as the shot ended. "Oops . . . well, I guess they're going to have to dry off for--JESUS CHRIST!"

Something streaked into the boat and blew it to bits.

Kevin Jones was already drowning. There was an awful ache in his ribs; he must have been hit.

Suddenly everything was green around him. <Was this it?> he thought. The ache was going away, he was numb or tingling everywhere.

But he did feel something. Arms around him, from behind. Hair was floating past him, long, long hair . . . <Minako.> Minako had come for him.

Suddenly his head was above the water. He couldn't see very well . . . but he could hear bullets. Something wrapped around him, and he heard loud thumps . . . and a Whoomp . . . Minako screaming . . .

He was in the water again. The green light came again, flashing, on and off, on and off. It was very bright just above him . . . Minako was still holding him, under his arms . . .

Then they were out of the water again. He could see Minako's face above him, shining--glowing brighter than the sun from her forehead. More thumps came--he saw blood fall from Minako's head down into his face. It ran into his eyes. He squinted, put his head down . . .

The ground was falling away below. . . he must be dead. He could see the lake below, pieces of the boat, a couple of burning cars, boys laying still on the ground below. He could still hear firing, but the bullets weren't close. Why did that matter? He closed his eyes. He heard something shriek, and a loud explosion . . .

Kevin opened his eyes. Minako was kissing him . . . Blowing breath into his mouth. But she was an angel, with great white wings.

Great white wings.

And she was bloody. Her hair was matted with blood.

Someone else was talking, bending over him . . . it was Sarah, and Kimberly, and they were angels too, but they had black wings. And a man in a . . . tuxedo? The were talking another language . . . Japanese; he had heard it enough to know what it was.

Kimberly had three eyes, and the third one, much larger, glowed for a moment. She said something.

Suddenly, they were in a hospital. Minako was still there, and Sarah, and Kimberly. No one had wings, or a third eye . . .

More familiar faces over him, Carmen and Ginger, the girl doctors. He must really be at Highland Hospital . . .

Crawford noticed he was bleeding. He was missing the end of a finger . . . just clipped off by a bullet or something.

He'd sat and watched the whole thing, frozen in place. The rocket hitting the boat, the baby gangsters firing, and the angel rising from the water to start burning them down. She was holding someone, fighting to save him . . . or she would have finished the shooters in seconds.

There were more angels at the end; he just caught the one that burned the last two cars. It was so fast, so bright.

The last thing he noticed was one of the boys throwing down his gun and backing away from an angel hovering just above him. He was the only one of the shooters Crawford could see who was not hit.