It was a large room, and some of it seemed, well, too real, too subtly in disrepair. A snagged thread here, a chip from the wood of a chair back,
there, a subtle echo of a stain from someone’s drink - it was not what she expected.
She sat very still, the wall around her, waiting, spinning a star inside her chest.
The arguments went on for a long while. She tuned in to everyone there - especially the ones that she knew would vote the resolution through. She
went combing through their energy, undoing the ridged knots of perception, breaking open steel traps of circular logic. She saw the dark in each of
them and she knew all they had ever done. It was chilling, as always, to gather secrets this way, but she did not do it like the NSA, in the hopes of
catching a crook or terrorist: she did it to unweave the threads that lead to this moment, this vote on the floor.
“This Resolution would be dangerous to the entire area, if we enact it. We would be sending thousands of our men and women into yet another
potentially endless conflict…”
Good, she thought to herself. It was working. The hours dragged by. She tuned in to hear what they said like a swimmer coming up for a breath,
before diving back into the swirl of tangled energy, chasing threads of fear and hatred that slithered like eels.
“…from the Great State of Oklahoma, I vote ‘No’,”…”
“…proudly representing the Great State of Texas, I vote ‘No’ on the Resolution for War with…”
“…Arizona, will be voting ‘No’ on this ill-conceived…”
She kept at it until she felt something snap into place like a magnet being pulled onto metal.
She looked up just in time to hear the final gavel. The resolution that everyone had expected to sail through Congress, had spectacularly failed.
She had learned a lot. She now knew her next steps, and which companies controlled whom in the bought-and-sold farce still labeled “Democracy.”
She would find a way to visit every board room, invisible to all eyes, shining her invisible light, twanging the discord back into Harmony.
Someday, there would be no homeless man to trip over, ravaged by war and drugs of choice. Someday sooner than later, if she had her way.
She wished she could stop by a Hospital on her way home, before showering and dressing for her shift, making sure her cat was fed and the plants
watered at home in her tiny little room-for-rent. She was too exhausted. It was one thing to manage a healing one on one, or even to work a whole
floor of a Hospital, but to manage an interwoven conversation with so many entrenched patterns and stubborn heads…that, was like running a
In a few days, she thought with a ghost of a smile, she would visit the SCOTUS hearings…there was a ruling coming up that would play into her Big
Picture against violence…then…well, she’d figure her next move. It might have to do with Wall Street, the Banks, the “Military Industrial
Complex,” she wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, she’d keep at it. Violence would die a death of a thousand cuts.
She walked her invisible way down through the city, her feet slogging through the rain, destiny like wings at her back.
“What the hell were all of you smoking in there?” the enraged man screamed into the phone. “I had a billion dollars riding on that damned war
and you were supposed to deliver me and my company a victory. What happened?” He barked at the Representative from Georgia who cowered at the
other end of the line.
“I don’t know, sir, I really don’t…”
“Don’t give me excuses!”
“I’m not, sir, really, but there was something strange on the video footage, sir…”
“What in the hell are you talking about! Something strange? Like what, the “No” vote passing from your lips like you were all having some kind
of love fest orgy? Speak up!”
“..on the recording, sir, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there, but who sat through the whole thing, on the floor of the the House, sir.”
“Who! Spit it out!”
“We don’t know, sir, but we are working on it. The strange thing is, we can’t see a face or any details, really, there’s a strange kind
of…blueish glow around them and they didn’t film right.”
“A bluish glow?”
The Congressman pulled the phone away from his ear, as if the blue streak of cursing that assaulted him through the speaker might somehow actually
bruise his brain. When the idiot had calmed down, he would try to finish. He was scared, in the way that he felt fear. He could admit it. He could
see his next election going down the drain, and he’d know why. The arms manufacturer would not be adding to his funding and would most likely back
Yet there was something…something different in him that he couldn’t explain. He’d been overcome with a strange feeling he’d never had before
- he rarely had feelings at all, and considered them odd at best. He had a diagnosis, but no one would ever know it. Being a sociopath did not, he
knew, make people vote for you.
The feeling had lessened, whatever it was. It gave him time to think, to realize with horror what he had done. Who could possibly have infiltrated
the House, gotten past security and sat there for hours without being noticed?
As the cursing continued, he knew his next move. He’d call his contact over at the CIA, who had some darker dealings, and in turn he’d farm it
out to one of the creepier jackals. Those boys never lost a scent. He couldn’t stand to be around them, really, as they scared the crap out of
him. Evil. They exuded it, like they carried their own private Hell Mouth inside and it seeped out their skin. Even he bowed to the face of the
He shuddered visibly at the thought of engaging such creatures, but this was an emergency: kill or be killed, politically speaking. He let himself be
yelled at for a while, and then made promises he knew he’d make good on with his next phone call, before hanging up.
He had no sooner hit the button to release the call than he brought up his contact to the world of shadows.
The phone rang. It went to message after a couple seconds. With a few words, he set Hell in motion. He’d be damned if he’d let
that…person…the Infiltrator, remain invisible.
edit on 28-4-2015 by AboveBoard because: (no reason given)