fuck this job.com

When he gets home, Simon takes a long, hot shower. For some reason, he leaves the pentagram hanging around his neck. Then he sits quietly in his apartment with the windows open and listens to the noises from the street and polishes the pentagram with a paper towel. Eventually, he takes a nap and wakes up feeling bloated and listless. He doesn't dream. He takes a walk down to the corner grocery store and buys some lettuce. He makes a salad and watches the Game Show Network. He finds a single beer in the back of the fridge and he drinks it. He pulls an old paperback from the shelf and sits down to read for a few minutes. The title is "Holy Blood, Holy Grail." A friend gave him the book years ago but he only read the first few pages before he lost interest. Now, however, he finds himself fascinated. He reads until it gets dark and he has to close the blinds. Then he keeps reading until he falls asleep. He sleeps more soundly than he has in years. He dreams of trees and grass.

Four o'clock in the morning in the park downtown is cold and lonely. Even the homeless people have crawled away into sleeping bags under shrubs. A cloaked figure kneels in the soft turf, digging a narrow hole with a garden spade. A hood hides the face of this tall, powerfully built man. Finally, when the hole is as deep as his arm is long, he takes a tiny bundle and holds it gently in a large, gloved hand. He turns his face to heaven and tries to speak. The voice that comes from within the hood is raspy and hoarse, and so soft that it can barely be heard. "Father in heaven, I pray that the blasphemy committed upon the body of this young girl be forgiven, and that the justice metered out by your poor servant unto the perpetrator was seen as righteous in your eyes. I pray that this one may rest in peace, now that her body is returned to the earth, and that this heart may beat strongly with you in heaven upon the day of the return of your son and my savior, Jesus Christ." With that, the figure gently places the bundle in the ground, and begins to fill the hole, slowly spading the loose soil back into the tiny grave.

Simon wakes up and sees the luminous hands on the alarm clock at twelve and five. Five in the morning! But he's wide awake, so he crawls out of bed and makes himself an omelet, and thinks about what he is going to say to Jennifer and Mitch. He can't tell them he was hung over! He decides to tell them he had food poisoning. If they happened to see him being pepper sprayed, he intends to shrug that off and say that if was no big deal. If they really press him, he decides to look surprised and say "You know, the vomiting could have been the pepper spray! I hadn't thought of that!" He knew that any statement flattering the ego of Jennifer or Mitch was a sure way get out of trouble.

He switches on the TV and, without thinking, he switches over to CNN. The lead story is about the murder of Dr. Chokem. But what the people on the screen are talking about is the package delivered by "the terrorists" to the The City Times. The newspaper apparently found a package on the desk of the mail room supervisor. The bomb squad was called, but it was determined that it wasn't a bomb. Strangely though, CNN isn't saying what was found. Simon sits down and watches. A woman reporter is interviewing a man.

"So you're saying that the package wasn't a bomb, but it was something that has everyone at The City Times concerned?"

"Yes, Samantha. Very concerned. We are dealing with a kind of terrorist who is trying to intimidate. They are trying to frighten us. They are sending a message of terror."

"But Homeland Security doesn't want you to say what was found?"

"Not at this time."

"But you can say that it was related to Dr. Chokem's death?"

"Yes, it was an item...that was related to his death. That's all I can say."

"Was anything taken from Dr. Chokem's office? Or can you say?"

"I can say that his desk was broken into. I think that's all I can say. We don't know is anything was taken."

Simon slowly eats the omelet (he has to wait for it to cool) and he feels drawn to read more of "Holy Blood, Holy Grail" but he fights off the urge. He decides to leave early for work and instead of his usual hurried walk down the hill to the financial district, he decides to take a leisurely stroll and enjoy some coffee on the way. Get a copy of the The City Times to read. He leaves his apartment building at 6 am--a full hour early.

At the CNN studios, William Mariola is nervously sitting in front of the camera, wondering if he is going to have to answer any more questions. When they finally tell him that he can go, he finally releases a big breath and practically runs for the door.

Back at the The City Times building, he heads back to the "war room" where highly confidential material and breaking news stories are discussed. The managing editor--Shirley DePriest--is trying hard not to show how pleased she is to have such a scoop but she isn't very successful. The only things that dampen her enthusiasm are the items on the table. A bloody shirt, taken from the back of Dr. Chokem. A delicately lettered note, written on Dr. Chokem's stationary in a strange, disturbing-looking handwriting. And, finally, what came wrapped in the shirt--now triple sealed inside a plastic bio-hazard bag and soon to be removed to the city morgue. DePriest is making certain that plenty of photos are taken. Two officials from Homeland Security are there, wearing rubber surgical gloves like everyone else. DePriest picks up the letter in a gloved hand while the Homeland Security officers look on, and she gently spreads it out and tries to absorb the message. Only the managing editor of the Times could get away with it, but she's used to a privileged position.

She reads it again, looking for clues as to the meaning. It is addressed, weirdly enough, to Dr. Arnold Sodderheim, the editor who oversees stories dealing with medical issues and the medical profession.

"Dear Doctor Arnold Sodderheim, this evil man was killed by me in battle. The damage done to him was great. He lived for a few minutes, in great pain I am sure. His heart beat strongly right up until the loss of blood led to his death. For that reason, I am sending it to you for further study. I know that a scientist such as yourself will appreciate this. I felt that it was the least I could do. I apologize for the poor wrapping. Yours Very Truly, Orlando de Balistica, Emir of Alamut."

"Emir of Alamut," eh? Certainly this had to be the work of an Islamic terrorist. Probably Al Queda. But the name--"Orlando de Balistica?" What did that mean? Was it a code of some kind? DePriest had encountered some pretty crazy notes from killers, but this one was really something.

Then there are the security video tapes. Those tapes have inspired the security clamp-down and all the associated paranoia. Those tapes led to these government men snooping around. With the World Trade Organization meeting in the city, those tapes could end the meetings early and sending the delegates home, giving a huge black-eye to the federal government.

Whatever had killed Dr. Chokem and the Sackanut guard had these government men scared. DePriest is a little nervous herself. The thing on the tape, it moved too fast, and was too strange looking. But really, it was also too blurry to be identified exactly--like the thing that crashed into the Pentagon. DePriest decided for herself that it was an artifact created by a malfunction of the security cameras. The result of some new technology, maybe, that disabled the cameras. That is what Ms. DePriest says it was, and that what the Times is going to report (as soon as the gag order from the federal judge is lifted).

In the mean-time, they have work to do. The Times' lawyers have been working non-stop since the "package" arrived to keep it from being taken immediately away by Homeland Security. So far, they have succeeded. But in a few hours, a judge will certainly order the items taken away and so the newspaper is recording every single detail of the grisly package for use in future stories. The tapes, too, are copied with great care.

The newspaper that Simon buys at Starbucks provides very few details. He is very pleased to see that his photo doesn't show up anywhere. Accidentally getting himself pepper-sprayed and then showing up in a news photo would be very embarrassing. When he arrives, fifteen minutes early, at work he says "good morning" as cheerfully as he can to the assembled drudges, making a special effort to say good morning to Jennifer, his immediate supervisor, and Mitch, the manager of his department. Unusually, both Jennifer and Mitch respond with very enthusiastic "good mornings" of their own. He notices that Jennifer has a an evil looking scratch on her throat and her hand moves to it, reactively, as he passes her desk. Something strange is going on.

Simon feels nervous about this in the same way that he felt nervous about being asked to sort adding machine tapes in Dr. Chokem's office. What had that been about? He got the impression that he was there just to allow Heather to abuse him. Like so many other things at YQZ, it made no sense at all. If an author put it in story, nobody would believe it! But what nobody would believe was what Simon found inside Chokem's desk. Simon had never seen such a sick joke! As soon as he realized what it was supposed to be, closed and locked the drawer. That--that was really weird.

Simon hangs up his jacket and looks for any messages or memos on his desk. He doesn't find any. So he sits quietly in his cubicle and does what he does every morning. He surfs the internet.

(TO BE CONTINUED)