Page 59 of SummerTime Madness
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The music roars back through the speakers. Foam and filaments twist through the air. On screen, Coredelia rides the climax, eyes wild, voice vibrating through the mic.
“Bloom, baby, bloom.” Her eyes flash–then she looks straight into the camera, and smiles.
Not at the crowd.
Not at her kings.
At me.
She knew I’d be watching.
I lean back in my chair, swallowing the last of the bourbon, whispering the only thing left that’s true.
“Truly wicked, intelligent woman.”
There she is, lifting her arms in the air as the crowd erupts into clicking frenzies… the camera is found and destroyed.
END TRANSMISSION.
PHASE V: COMPLETED.
“May God help us all.”
