Résumé With Monsters (23 page)

Not right now, Lily.

Philip screamed at his frozen hands.
Move!
Dammit
, move!

Nothing. "Philip. Philip."

Not right now. Not— Wait.

"Lily. Take my hands. Hold my hands."

"Philip. Wake up."

"Lily. I need you to hold my hands. Squeeze them as hard as you can."

"Philip—"

"Right now!"

Nothing. Wait. Philip saw the fingers of his hands contract.

"Yes. That's right. Now Lily, you need to do exactly as I tell you."

"All right, Philip."

"Take the ring finger of my left hand and push it down, hard, don't worry about hurting me, press it down h—"

The finger moved. On the screen a green "S" appeared behind the glowing cursor.

Yes.

"Now the little finger of that same hand."

An "A" appeared. Philip continued to speak rapidly. Lily followed his instructions. The caps marched across the screen, bright warriors: "M. S. O. M."

Jesus. Not "M," "N."
The backspace/delete key was up from the right hand, about two inches to the right.

"Lily. We hit the wrong key. Lift my right hand up and move it about two inches forward and to my right. Stop. Maybe a half inch more to the right. Okay. Press down the little finger. Okay! Great. Now back. I need an 'N' now. That's the first finger of the right hand down and a little to the left. All right. Now shift my right hand over. We need to execute the command. That's the little f—"

"Well, well. What are you up to, Philip?"

Ronald
Bickwithers
' smiling face loomed into view. His eyes were almost luminous with excitement.

"One of the techs paged me. Said we had some unauthorized movement. I really hated leaving the Welcoming, but I'm a manager, and

I have a manager's obligations. So I thought I'd take a look. I'm disappointed. This is not what we are paying you for, Philip."

Bickwithers
reached toward the keyboard.

Philip watched his own finger press the "execute" key. Blip.

Bickwithers
' hands stopped moving toward the keyboard.

PRAISE
  
JESUS
         
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS !

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS !

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS !
  
PRAISE
   
JESUS !

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS !

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS !

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

PRAISE
   
JESUS!
   
PRAISE
   
JESUS!

The computer screen glowed with green rejoicing, filling completely and then beginning to scroll. Then it went blank.

Overhead, the ceiling was ballooning. Large, mercury-silver globules the size of basketballs detached and fell, slowly as though almost weightless. They hit the floor and exploded softly—
pock! pock! pock!—
and some living thing began to reassemble itself. As a work in progress, it was grotesque beyond description, and Philip knew somehow that the finished product would be yet more hideous.

He saw his hands in front of him, pushing the computer terminal over. It toppled with a crash.
The program had released him from his electronic thralldom
. Around him, other employees were tumbling or attempting to stand or clawing the air with their hands. One man was screaming as he staggered to his feet, his mouth spewing shattered teeth and blood.

A muffled thud sounded overhead. Then two sharp cracks. Yes. F.F. had managed to hide a few of them. But would it be enough?

Philip's vision lurched as
Bickwithers
enfolded him.

"You rotten malcontent!"
Bickwithers
screamed. "Slacker. Bum. Lazy welfare parasite scum!"

They rolled on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, Philip could see a monster rebuilding itself. For the first time in his life, Philip prayed.
Sweet Jesus
, he prayed.
We need more bombs.

And, perhaps because he had not overused prayer, had not used it for trivial petitions, an explosion answered his plea. The room turned into deafening noise and a welter of flying objects. The ceiling was snapped open. A scream of rage echoed across six hundred million years, and the thing on the floor vibrated and jerked like a snake in the jaws of an invisible bird of prey. It rose in the air, twisting, and disappeared in the roiling dust that poured down from the ruined ceiling.

Philip staggered to his feet.
Bickwithers
did not rise. He lay amid large shards of cinderblock, his bald head gushing blood. His wig lay just out of the reach of his outstretched hand, as though he had meant to retrieve it and so restore order.

Too late
, Philip thought.

I QUIT.

Philip turned and fled. MicroMeg rained down. The vast pistons were stilled in the room of giant machinery.

The world was reduced to snapshots of falling concrete and plaster and dangling cables and hissing ducts.

He found the mail cart in the hall, tore the tarp away and felt his heart leap with thanksgiving. Amelia was alive, her eyes bright with that clear intelligence and fire that had so attracted him to begin with.

I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING.

#

Whup
. "Philip, thank God." Lily was looking down on him. Her features were a map of concern and compassion. Philip lay smiling up at her. He forgot, momentarily, that the use of his body was returned to him, so he did not respond or try to move until his therapist asked him if, in fact, he
could
move.

"Well yes, I think I can," Philip said, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"This hypnosis was not such a hot idea after all," Lily said, once she had helped him into a chair. She was shaking. He realized it had been an ordeal for her too.