The Good Doctor's Tales Folio Eight Read Online Free PDF

she’s still a human being.”
    What sort of history did Hank and Focus Biggioni have, anyway?  Perhaps someday I would ask.
    We moved to the kitchen table in my new house, and I wrote out a letter stating my case.  I showed it to Hank and he winced.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Ma’am, I think we have another problem to put down in your journal,” Hank said.  The damned journal was his idea – I would be writing down everything I did, including any problems I noticed along the way.
    “So, what’s the problem?”
    Hank took a deep breath.  “Your composition skills are still about at the fifth grade level.”
    I grabbed the letter from him, then a newspaper, and compared the two.  He was right, though it took me a bunch of staring and thinking before I got it.  This was going to be a pain in the ass to fix.
    “Well, then, it seems I have a problem. Can you redo it?”
    “Sure,” Hank said, relieved.  Relieved that he didn’t have an angry Arm in his face.
    The final draft of the letter was perfect.
     
    After we finished, we made copies of the letter, and sent the copies to all the lower ranking Network Focuses he and I were able to get addresses for.  Lower ranking meaning those not on the Council.  Zielinski also strongly recommended against sending my letter to any of the first Focuses, even those who didn’t hold political power.
    I followed his advice.  If I worked this right, Lori would have Tonya’s seat on the Council and I would be free to dispose of Tonya privately .
     

Tonya’s Troubles [expanded]
    (1)
    “Polly!  It’s a pleasure to hear from you,” Tonya said.  Young Stalker, her current cat, wound his way between Tonya’s feet while she talked on the telephone.  She sat in what would eventually be her office, now nothing more than studs and construction materials.  Her office currently took up a full suite in the Bridgeport, a turn-of-the-century hotel in downtown Philadelphia, and everything else remained a maze of dry wall and building supplies.  She loved the place as much as she loved the location, near St. John the Evangelist.  Within walking distance!
    Her people expected to finish her office two weeks from now, but in the meantime, all she had were the bare studs and an old desk.  At least they had finished with her bedroom.  Finally, she had a place to sleep away from their old residence, the one Keaton had ruined with bad juice.
    The construction went far more smoothly than it had in moves past.  The construction business her people had started several months ago was showing results in the professionalism of her people.  Now, if their business would start making money…
    “Hello, Tonya,” Polly said.  Her voice was thin and tinny over the long distance line.  “Congratulations on your move.  Is everything going well?”
    “So far so good,” Tonya said.  They made small talk for a while, households and families and living arrangements.  Polly hadn’t called her to make small talk, though.  Only a few locals called her these days to make small talk.  This was business, and she suspected this was going to be bad.
    Tonya used her own strong charisma on herself, to calm herself down, and ran her left hand through the waves of her black hair.  Although, as all Focuses did, she appeared to be a beautiful nineteen year old, Tonya was in her fifties.  She knew very well when the hammer was poised to fall.
    “So,” Tonya said, after a bit.  “What do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
    “I have a favor to ask of you,” Polly said.
    “Hmm?  What sort of favor?”  Stalker stopped rubbing her legs and jumped up on her desk, eyeing the plate of sandwiches Arthur had brought in.  Tonya tore a substantial piece of bologna off one of the sandwiches and tossed it.  Stalker leapt and caught the treat in mid-air, then scurried under her desk to make a snack of the bologna.
    “ Our backers would appreciate it if you made a formal presentation at next week’s