The Good Doctor's Tales Folio Nine (7 page)

Tonya at the Reception [expanded]

“Tell me what you see.”

“Ma’am?” Delia said, confused by Tonya’s question.  The reception
had settled into the Dearborn Hyatt’s main ballroom, probably one of the few places big enough to hold them all.  Tonya didn’t want to think about how much money this reception cost Gail’s father, but Gail said he could afford it.  He stood over by where the band set up after the break, looking like he was about to burst the buttons of his suit with pride.  Tonya had been teaching Delia about other Focuses and households all evening.

“There,” Tonya said.  Delia followed Tonya’s eyes.

“That’s interesting,” Delia said.  “Gail has female bodyguards.”  The best man had bodyguard written all over him and watched over everything with an attitude of cold suspicion.  It took a good eye to see that his wife, Gail’s maid of honor, had the bodyguard training as well.

“I hear they got their initial training from Beth’s people, but that Wini made them take a month of training with her people, too, and Wendy leaned on them to follow Stacy’s suggestion and train up their able women as bodyguards,” Tonya said.

Delia nodded thoughtfully.  “So what do you think of Gail’s household, ma’am?  I know you’ve been watching over her for the last nine months.”

Tonya leaned back in her chair and sighed.  “They’re a lot better than they were when I first contacted Gail.  I would rate it about mid-level, promising for a Focus of Gail’s age.”

“Not better than mid-level, for a Focus of her promise?” Delia said.  Over at the bandstand, the band, some of Grace Johnson’s people, started to tune up.  The room became even louder as everyone raised their voices over the band.

“Gail’s taking her household down an entirely new path,” Tonya said.  “Like Inferno, her household has tremendous potential, but also like Inferno, it’s going to take years to come together properly.”

“So no bigger things for Gail and her household for now,” Delia said.  “I hope they can afford the years.”

“I hope so, too.”  Tonya watched Gail thoughtfully, over by the punch bowl and so happy she bubbled.  Bigger things, Tonya thought, and wondered what Delia meant.  Gail had made a decent start, especially given her initial troubles, and she had a good heart to keep her honest.  Her leadership style was ‘barely controlled chaos’, which meant weak central leadership and a lot of household power invested in her Transforms and normals.  She read household authority on quite a few of Gail’s people, especially in Van, the best man, and Gail’s maid of honor.

“The big test will come when Gail’s charisma fully comes in,” Tonya said, flickering her eyes over at Linda Cooley, trying to hide the fact she snorted down some expensive noxious drug as if it was play money.  Tonya strongly suspected Linda used her potent yet motherly charisma to score herself ‘product samples’.  “Quite a few Focuses fall by the wayside due to the temptations inherent in strong charisma.  If she can handle her charisma, and her household matures, she’ll be Council quality.”  The Council could use another strong competent Focus.  Esther Weiczokowski, the Midwest region rep, wasn’t truly Council quality, in Tonya’s opinion.

“Council quality?”  Delia made a face.  “What a hell of a thing to curse some young Focus with.  Couldn’t you steer her toward something less destructive, like Focus Rizzari’s Cause?”

“You think it might be better to let her grow into her power and not be forced into it out of necessity?” Tonya said.  Delia nodded.  “That might be for the best.  If we can afford it.”

Delia smiled.  Tonya took another sip of punch and picked at the wedding cake on her plate.  Over at the bandstand, the band, all Transforms, segued into ‘Octopus’s Garden’ at a volume that shook the rafters.  Tonya appreciated the jazz they had started with, but the young folks wanted to dance.  Gail’s father went charging up and the notes faded off as he hollered at them to play something more suitable for a first dance.  Tonya smiled and shook her head.  The band must be either new at weddings, or flustered by their audience.

As Gail had walked up the aisle, she had caught Tonya’s eyes, and Tonya had read in them love.  Why did this innocent young Focus think so much of her?  Despite their phone conversations, some that had gotten harsh, despite the mind scrape in Keaton’s house, Gail still treated Tonya like royalty.  As if she was some kind of saint.  A miracle worker, a saver of lives.  After so long as the Wicked Witch of the East, it was a decided jolt to have a young Focus think she was a saint rather than a demon.  This would be a lot to live up to.

Tonya wasn’t sure how close she was ready to be with Gail.  She liked Gail well enough, but real friendship?  So weak and yet so strong.  So morally
good
.  Far too far on the other side of a rather large generational divide.  Gail’s little ordeal with Adkins and the mind scrape at Keaton’s was nothing compared to what the first Focuses would put Gail through if Gail tried to grab real power.  What the first Focuses had put Polly and her through when they became Council members together was beyond rough.

Even after freeing herself from the Patterson tag, Tonya
still wasn’t sure if what she and Polly had suffered through to get onto the Council had been real, or whether it had been some sort of obscure juice-powered illusion.  Tonya had lost three bodyguards out of the ordeal, men who felt what had happened to her through the juice link.  After the ordeal, they were no longer steady enough to be bodyguards; the first Focuses had kept her bodyguards within range on purpose, to torment them.  The ordeal had left her with nightmares for months, and drove a wedge between her and Polly that still had not fully disappeared, even after all these years.

Gail still thought the Adkins episode had been wrong. 
Tonya had the urge to shake Gail, and scream in her face that she had no right to complain about what she had gone through.  Doing so wouldn’t have been right, though.  Experience did matter, and Gail would get all the experiences she could ever want over the years if she decided to play with the big girls.

“Ma’am,”
a man said, coming up to them.  One of Focus Katie Anderson’s Transforms. Tonya and her people still sat where they had eaten dinner, a large round table they had shared with Judith Stell and her people.  “My Focus, Katie, isn’t feeling so well.  Too much stress from too many Focuses here at the reception.  She would like to postpone the meeting until tomorrow.”  The man eyed her with distaste, the same way you might boggle at some demon from the bowels of hell.

The meeting was a piece of business both she and Polly were
arranging, attempting to figure out how Katie’s household had started making a profit for the first time ever.  Polly suspected something foul was going on.  They planned to sweet talk the information out of Katie with their combined charisma.

“I understand,” Tonya said.  “Would eight tomorrow morning be fine?”  Her household would have to postpone its trip back to Philly for an hour or two
, annoying but not impossible.  “I’ll tell Focus Keistermann.”

The man nodded, and backed away as swiftly
as courtesy permitted.  She wondered which of her many contretemps the man knew her by.  Most likely the Wicked Witch of the East, breaker of recalcitrant Transforms.  Of course, there was always the Arm Flap.  Or possibly the little scene in Houston regarding a gift surplus Transform that bombed onto the national media during her set-to with Hancock.  Hopefully, he wouldn’t remember back when she had found her face on Time Magazine in ’63 for her Monster hunting prowess, or remember the rumors of her role in the subduing of the renegade Focus Martine DeYoung and DeYoung’s people in ’64, in the middle of her not-at-all-public befriending of Stacy Keaton.

Too much business. 
“Look at Wendy’s people,” Tonya said to Delia, pointing.  Several of them were off in the corner, getting serious at the bar.

“What about them?” Delia
said.  In a while, Tonya would get up and mingle, but right now she wanted to continue people-watching.

“You can get a feel for the household by watching the people,” Tonya said.  “
For instance, Wendy’s household.  They’re new, their Focus has gone the dictator route, and they’re working with an Arm, so they’re all jumpy and walking wounded, and downing large quantities of alcohol.  As with Focus Rickenbach’s household, about a third of her women Transforms are bodyguard trained.”

Delia nodded.  “All right.”
  She paused.  “That’s a bit obvious, now that I think about it.”  Tonya’s lessons were intended to train Delia’s Transform-enhanced senses to picking up more subtleties.

“
Okay.  Compare them to Grace Johnson’s people.  See how Grace’s people watch everything around them.  The household seems to be functional now, although not exceptional, but something awful happened in the past there, and they still haven’t recovered.”

Delia frowned.  “All right, there’s something different about
her household, but I don’t know if I could have put my finger on the difference.”

“Look at Wini Adkins household, then.  Can you see it?”

Delia nodded.  “You can always pick them out, even in a room full of other people.  They have edges so sharp they cut you.”

“So for the opposite,
compare them to Beth Hargrove’s people.”

Delia frowned.
“Hargrove’s crew seems happy.”

“Yes, happy, and
well-adjusted and decent.  They have no edge at all.  Even her bodyguards are friendly.”

Delia grinned.  “What, you don’t think Danny and Pete make everyone think of warm puppies and Teddy Bears?”

“Hey,” Pete growled from beside her, but he never stopped his ceaseless watching.

“Bodyguards shouldn’t be friendly,” Tonya said.  “
Even Gail’s bodyguards are tougher, even the groom.”

Delia flickered her eyes over to Hancock, still around and still wearing her Focus Forbes disguise.  “They have reason.”

“Yes, they do,” Tonya said, and sighed.  Social obligations called.

“Time to circulate,” she said to her people.

Time to go make herself available to every Focus with a grudge, cause or problem.  Which, if past experience held true, was about three quarters of them.

“Tonya, what the hell is the Council doing about this whole Transform selection issue?” Beth Hargrove said.  “We’ve been hearing about it for years, and we still get whatever scum the doctors decide to curse us with!”  Tonya shrugged.  Hargrove had been pestering Esther about the problem ever since Esther got put on the Council, back when Hargrove had been a yearling Focus.  Now, since Tonya was available, Hargrove had decided to pester her too.

Tonya waxed noncommittal.  To fix th
e assignment problem would involve butting heads with the government.  The Transform community didn’t have the strength to do so, yet.

“Tonya, you’re head of the mentoring program, aren’t you?” Allison Silvey asked.  Tonya had no respect for Allison, and thought she could take lessons in willpower from a diseased slug with a bad case of nervous exhaustion.  Tonya nodded as an answer.  “There’s a situation in Cleveland I think you ought to…”

“You’re in Cleveland, Allison,” Tonya said, interrupting.  “Why don’t you
deal with it?  It would be good practice for you.”  Allison gave Tonya a stricken glare, which Tonya ignored as she walked away.

“Tonya, who is this Focus Ima Daly, and why is she up for election as Treasurer?”  Addie Hocutt asked.

“She’s the short stout blonde Focus you got into an argument with two years ago at the Midwest Regional summer meeting,” Tonya said.  “Remember?”  She repressed the urge to tell
Addie to go bark at her mistress’s feet if she wanted any further information.  Addie, the Midwest Region VP and Adkins’ chief toady, should already know the information already.

“Tonya, I’m trying to get a loan from the Council.  I know they don’t usually do loans, but can you help…”  Pauline Singer, Esther’s newest spy, was one of the basket case Focuses Tonya had been forced to deal with as head of the mentoring program.  Despite the fact Pauline had transformed almost three years ago.  It had cost Tonya far too much political capital to convince Esther and Wini that Pauline shouldn’t be paying Esther 10% of her household income as, essentially, protection money.  Worthless protection money, besides.  From what Tonya had heard, Pauline was still owned by Esther.

“I’ll
pass along a recommendation,” Tonya said.  Despite the help she had given Pauline, Tonya didn’t hold out much hope for this Focus.

“Tonya, what was the Council doing in the March meeting?  I couldn’t make any sense out of the mimeographed meeting notes, and Esther’s not being very cooperative about answering questions.”

Tonya smiled back at the Focus, the only one at the wedding she hadn’t identified yet.  “You are?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s the car accident again,” the Focus said, with a sickly smile.  “Cynthia.  Cynthia Rejmaniak.”

Oh my god!  “Cyn!  No, I’m the one who should be sorry.  I apologize.  I’ve heard so much about the accident, and I’m simply amazed that you’re back on your feet.”  The car had been totaled, everyone dead but
Cyn.  She had lost two of her Transforms and a normal. The Focus had suffered extensive third degree burns, more than thirty broken bones, and her face had been caved in.