Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #22 January 2016 | Page 18

“Senator, if you have a few moments.”

He glanced at Drusilla. She was staring at him.
This might be interesting, he thought.

“Of course, General. Would you like
something?” The Senator waved his hand at the
collection of bottles. “Help yourself.”

She smiled, an invitation made with full red
lips and bright white teeth.

“Thank you, Senator.” As Hargrove began
fixing himself a scotch and soda, he flipped the
mental trigger that activated the psi-web. The Senator
was saying something and Hargrove was replying.
Or, rather, the psi-web’s auto-response system was
handling that chore. Hargrove’s concentration was
elsewhere. He focused his mind, picturing a hand
reaching out from his forehead to touch the Senator’s
head.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend,” the Senator
said, following Hargrove’s gaze.
“Sorry, sir.”
“No, no need to apologise. Drusilla is a
beautiful woman. And very friendly.”
As if on cue, Drusilla detached herself from
her husband’s arm and sauntered over to the wet bar.

It took a moment, but he made contact
successfully. He had feared the Senator would have
a telepathic scrambler in place; the sudden flood of
thoughts not his own indicated otherwise. The psiweb’s filters kicked in, preventing Hargrove’s mind
from being overwhelmed.

“Senator, General. Are you boys enjoying your
evening?”
“The General is talking shop.”

The Senator’s mouth was moving. Hargrove
was responding, although his conscious mind wasn’t
aware of what he was saying. The psi-webs pseudopersonality, cobbled together from thirty-eight
thousand people who thought they were answering a
“Which Game of Thrones character are you?” online
survey. Instead, he was preparing to deliver the mental
payload that would, in theory, compel the Senator to
support continued funding for the project.
There we go, Hargrove thought, as a mental
ping told him the payload was in place. He shut off the
psi-web and regained full awareness.
“…but the atomic hamster project is showing
such potential,” the Senator was saying.
“Atomic Hamsters are not the wave of the
future, Senator, regardless of what the hacks at
Yoyodyne say.”
What the fuck was that about, Hargrove
wondered. Not that it mattered; his job was done. He
could just sit back and coast the rest of the night.

Drusilla made a “tsk tsk” sound and said,
“Well, I’m sure national security can spare you for a
few minutes. Senator?”
break.”

“Be my guest. I’m sure the General could use a

“Is that right General, can you use a break?”
Drusilla planted herself next to Hargrove. She leaned
close to him. He found it hard to look away from her
mouth, the red lips, the shimmer of wetness. “Why
don’t we go someplace more private?”
Hargrove knew it was a bad idea; but he said,
“Yes, let’s do that,” anyway.
“Follow me,” Drusilla said.
back.”

Hargrove set his drink down. “Um…I’ll be
“Have fun,” the Senator said with a chuckle.

Drusilla led Hargrove up a wide flight of stairs.
She stopped in front of a door. “This is it,” she said,

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