Wild Cards [08] One-Eyed Jacks by George R.R. Martin Page B

face was distorted with terror and something else, some kind of alien presence. He started to raise one hand to his face, then jerked forward like a fumbled puppet.
    And then, just as the guards swarmed over them, Veronica saw the light come back into Hannah's eyes. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. Two pairs of hands pulled Veronica away. Two more bank guards and an NYPD cop shoved gun barrels into Hannah's face, screaming at her not to move. In seconds they had her in handcuffs and out the door.
    Veronica tried to get loose and the guards tightened their hold. She strained to find the blond kid in the crowd. He was gone.
    They took her to the precinct station in a squad car. At first they just wanted her story, over and over. Veronica told them she and Hannah were roommates, told them about the heroin, about the check she'd been taking to the bank. When they asked her what happened there, she told them she didn't know. "It wasn't Hannah," she said. "We've got a dozen witnesses that say it was."
    " I mean, it wasn't her inside her body. It was like she was ... I don't know. Possessed."
    "Possessed? The devil made her do it?"
    " I don't know."
    She told the story again and again, until the words lost all meaning.
    Then a cop in a suit came out of the darkness and said, "What do you know about a bunch that calls itself WORSE!"
    " I never heard of them. Can I have a glass of water?"
    "In a minute. Can you tell me what the initials stand for?"
    "I told you, I never-"
    "Women's Organization to Reach Sexual Equality. Now does it ring a bell?"
    "No, I--"
    "Last year there was a riot outside an abortion clinic. These people from WORSE sent five protesters and a cop to the hospital."
    "Good for them," Veronica said.
    "The cop died. Now do you think it's funny? There's at least seven incidents in the last year where these women have provoked violence in the streets. One of the people they've got it in for is your old employer. Fortunato."
    "What's that got to do with Hannah?"
    "Not much. She's only the president."
    "What? That's impossible."
    "I guess you know everything about her, right? How long did you say you've known her? Ten days?"
    "She said she had nothing to do with those people anymore."
    "You just said you'd never heard of WORSE."
    "She never mentioned the name. She said she used to be part of some radical organization, but she didn't agree with their methods. She said it was over a long time ago."
    A little man with pattern baldness and glasses said, "She's clean, Lou. She's telling the truth." The man was a low-grade ace, the weakest sort of telepath. The cops had ten or fifteen on staff to use as lie detectors.
    "To hell with it then," the man in the suit said. "We're cutting you loose. But I don't want you away from a phone where I can find you for more than an hour at a time. You got that?"
    "I want to see her," Veronica said.
    "Forget it. Her lawyer's there. That's all she gets."
    "Who's her lawyer?"
    The man in the suit sighed. "Bud?"
    One of the cops looked through the file. "Lawyer's name is Mundy." He whistled. "From Latham, Strauss. Hot stuff."
    "Now get out of here," the man in the suit said. Two uniformed cops gave her a ride home, then followed her inside. They had a warrant, signed and sealed. She sat on the floor and watched them as they took the apartment apart. One of them found the sexual toys in the drawer by the bed. He held up the wooden ben wa balls for his partner to see, then looked over at Veronica. "Fuck you," Veronica said, blushing, close to tears. "Leave that stuff alone."
    The cop shrugged and put the balls away. Finally they left. Veronica had watched them carefully. There was nothing in the apartment, not a single piece of evidence, to connect Hannah to WORSE.
    As soon as they were gone, she called Latham, Strauss. The answering service took her number. She hung up and moved restlessly through the house, putting the Plexiglas framed drawings back on the walls, refolding clothes and