CHAPTER 5

For a while things were relatively calm. The traps continued to get sopaths, and the detention cellar continued to take them out. Most were young, three or four years old, and inexperienced, easy prey. It was the older ones, like Nefer, that were dangerous, because they were learning to emulate normals, and some were quite good at it.

“We’re losing ground,” Sylvia said. “We’re taking out the less dangerous ones and missing the smart ones. We need a better way.” All of them had become hardened to the necessity of killing children, or arranging for them to kill each other. It was an ugly business, but the alternative was uglier.

“We need to bring down the population so that sopaths aren’t born anymore,” Abner said.

She grimaced. “Lots of luck with that.”

“There’s the problem,” he agreed. “Despite the increasing evidence, powerful political and religious groups still oppose any birth control, which is the only painless and effective way to do it. Families insist on their right to reproduce in any quantity they choose, and the least responsible ones increase their numbers disproportionately. So the global population continues to increase, and the ratio of sopaths increases.” It was foolhardy but seemed to be an insoluble problem.

“We’re limited to what we can do locally,” Sylvia said. “Speaking of which, we have reports that a criminal has moved into the neighborhood, giving out guns and drugs to sopaths, making them twice as dangerous. We have to stop that.”

“We do,” he agreed. “Most sopaths have been armed only with knives. If they all get guns, we’ll be in trouble.”

“Serious trouble,” she agreed. “That’s why I’m going to make a formal complaint to the police.”

“I’m not sure that’s wise. Scuttlebutt is that some of them have connections with sopath girls.”

“I’ve heard. Six-year-old prostitutes. In fact the criminal is a pedophile, trading his wares for sex. All the more reason to take him out.”

“I’m not easy about this,” Abner said.

“Because one of them told you not to trust the police? What other recourse do we have?”

“We could take him out ourselves.”

She shook her head. “He’s a normal. Criminal, but he has a soul. We kill sopaths, not normals, no matter how corrupt the normals may be.”

“Maybe we should make an exception.”

But she wouldn’t have it. “I’m not crossing that line. I’ll try the police, and hope for the best. If they don’t act, then we can consider other ways to drive him out.”

“I hope they act,” Abner said. Maybe she was right.

Sylvia went to the police to make her case that day.

That evening when she stepped out of her house, a sopath shot her at point blank range, killing her, and fled before any neighbor could react.

It seemed they had the criminal’s response. It was an open assassination, eliminating the one who wanted the criminal out of the neighborhood. A warning to others.

“The criminal must be paying off the police,” Abner muttered to Bunty.

“I don’t think so. They could have notified the man of the complaint and asked him to move out. Instead he killed the opposition.”

That did seem more likely. The police might not be very effective, but they had tacitly cooperated with Pariah to deal with the sopaths. “But it was Sylvia’s complaint that did her in.”

“She tried to follow protocol,” Bunty said. “Nefer’s warning was on target: don’t trust the police. Not because they’re corrupt, but because there are times when standard practice, such as forwarding a complaint, doesn’t work.”

They held an emergency Pariah meeting. “We can’t allow Sylvia’s work to be destroyed,” Abner said. “To do so would be to let the sopaths and their corrupt enablers win.”

They were grief-stricken and angry about the assassination, but confused. “What can we do, if the police can’t help us?” a man asked.

“We can take out the criminal directly,” Abner said. “That would eliminate the present problem and serve as a warning to those who try to arm the sopaths.”

“How?”

“I believe I have a connection. The less said about it the better.”

They agreed to let him try it his way. They did not inquire about the details.

Abner discussed it with his family. “I have two serious reservations. First, do we really want to get into the business of killing people with souls? That pedophile may be a wretch, but he surely has a soul.”

“He’s acting like a sopath,” Bunty said. “I’m willing to classify him as a fellow traveler, to be treated much the same. In fact I would rather kill a criminal souler, than a civilized sopath.”

Abner looked at the children. They nodded, taking their cue from Bunty. “But how?” Clark asked.

“I’m thinking of Nefer,” Abner said. “But I’m wary of her price. That’s my second reservation.”

“We can talk with her,” Bunty said with resignation.

Abner called Nefer’s cell phone, let it ring once, and disconnected. That was the signal.

In five minutes she was there. “You want me!”

“We have a job for you,” Abner said grimly. “We need to talk terms.”

“That child fucker,” she said wisely.

“The pedophile. You were right about the police,” Abner said. “Sylvia of Pariah went to them to ask that they arrest the man. Instead they gave the criminal a warning, and he sent a sopath to kill her.”

She nodded. “The bad guys play hardball.”

“We can play hardball too. You could take him out.”

She didn’t blanch. “Sure. What’s your offer?”

Abner braced himself. “What do you want?”

“A night in bed with you, naked, and you let me do anything I want.”

Clark and Dreda smiled, having seen that coming. Bunty’s face remained studiedly neutral.

“No.” But he remembered to say the word without special force. “What else will you trade for?”

“You wouldn’t have to do anything,” Nefer said. “You could just lie there. Just ignore me.”

As if she’d ever let him do that! “What else?” Abner repeated.

Nefer tried yet again. “When I kiss you, firm your lips a little. And when I put it in me, you just let it spout. Nothing else.”

He suppressed a violent negation. “That was not what I meant.” As she surely understood.

“What else?” Bunty inquired with tight control. She could afford to play the part of a jealous female.

The girl sighed. “A get out of jail free card.”

“A what?”

“The police catch me, I call you and you come bail me out, no questions.”

“Why would they let me do that?”

“They’ll think I’m your sopath mistress. Grist for the dossier. Blackmail ammunition. They’ll like that.”

“It would ruin my reputation!”

She nodded. “Maybe I’ll get killed first. Then you won’t have to pay.”

“But if it happens--”

“So maybe easier to have me in bed. I won’t tell.”

“My wife would be outraged.”

“Maybe not,” Nefer said. “She knows it’s just a deal, like buying a car.” As a sopath, she was not concerned with family loyalty.

Abner looked desperately at Bunty. Bunty looked at Nefer. “This would be a single night? No repeats?”

The girl hesitated, then agreed. “One shot. For this one deal. Other deals, other bargains.”

“Suppose I was there watching?”

Another hesitation. “If you didn’t interfere.” As a sopath she didn’t care about Bunty’s sentiments, just whether she would act to stop it.

“Before or after the assassination?”

“You’re pretty cunning,” Nefer said. “Okay, after. He’s normal; he’ll honor it.”

“I can’t say it appeals,” Bunty said. “But it’s a fair offer.”

She was giving the sopath hope! Now he understood Bunty’s strategy. Nefer would have no reason to be mad at her. Such anger could have deadly consequences. “No. I’ll make the get out of jail deal.”

“Suit yourself. Maybe next time we can fuck.” Nefer, disappointed, slipped out.

“She’s really, really sweet on you, daddy,” Dreda said.

“And she’s sort of pretty,” Clark said.

“And that’s enough of that,” Bunty said severely.

The children laughed. They had been teasing her.

An hour later Abner’s cell phone rang. It was Nefer. “I made the deal,” she whispered. “Three fucks for a small gun. He’s fetching the gun now. I’m naked in the back shed. I’ll hide the phone in my pile of clothes and leave it on.”

“Nefer, I can’t go there to rescue you!” Abner protested.

“I know, Mr. Slate. I just want you with me like this, so if it goes wrong you’ll know I really tried.”

What could he do? “I’ll listen.”

“Great. Here he comes. Bye.” There was a sound as she hid the phone.

“Here’s the gun,” a gruff man’s voice said. “You’ll get it after the third fuck tonight.”

“I know,” Nefer said. “Here’s my split. Remember, put it in slowly.”

“The hell.” There was the sound of him getting down on her.

“Not so fast! It hurts!”

He answered only with an urgent grunt.

Nefer screamed. But Abner knew her well enough to recognize it as a performance rather than real pain. She was acting like a halfway novice girl, rather than an experienced whore. If the man had a small penis, she might not be hurting at all, but she wanted him to think he was really forcing her.

Then he spoke again. “What’s that in your clothing?”

“My cell phone.” The scuffle must have exposed it.

“Let’s make sure it’s off, you little bitch.” Suddenly the connection broke.

Abner was left holding his phone, afraid to imagine what was happening. One thing was clear: Nefer really was doing it.

All he could do was wait, hoping for the best of this ugly transaction. It was hard to decide which was worse: what the girl was doing, or the way he had set her up for it. He certainly shared her guilt. He had knowingly sent a child to indulge in sex and murder.

Abner informed Bunty, who nodded. “We made a deal with the devil. But I hope she wins.”

That night there was a knock on their back door. It was Nefer. There was blood all over her dress. She saw him, smiled, and collapsed.

Abner picked her up and carried her inside. “She’s hurt,” he announced.

“Put her in my bed,” Dreda said. She kept her things in her room, but spent the nights sharing with Clark so as not to be alone. “It’s a sopath room.” Because Olive the sopath had used that room before her.

Bunty fetched a rubber sheet and laid it over the bed. Abner set the girl down. Nefer seemed to have lost consciousness; it wasn’t an act. Bunty examined the girl, then removed her clothing. “Stab wound, in the left forearm,” she said. “She’s lost blood.”

“Her dress is soaked,” Abner said.

“Not all of it is hers. Still, it’s bad enough.” She washed the arm, bandaged and bound it. Then she washed the rest of the girl’s body. “She had sex.” She cleaned that up too.

“They were into it when the phone connection cut off. Let’s hope she got him.”

“She must have. Obviously she managed to get close enough to use the knife.”

“She knew how,” he agreed, wondering how Nefer had managed to conceal the knife. Wouldn’t the pedophile have checked for that as well as for the phone?

“She’ll have to be watched tonight,” Bunty said. “She might run a fever, and there could be damage that doesn’t show, like a concussion. We’ll have to be ready to take her to the hospital if she goes into shock.” She fetched a nightie and worked it on to the girl’s body.

They took turns watching. Nefer slept fitfully but seemed to be all right. Around midnight, on Abner’s watch, she opened her eyes. “I got him.”

“And he got you,” Abner said.

“I had to wait until he got his cock--” she broke off, then corrected herself. “His penis into me before I stabbed him, when he was spouting. Then I did it.”

“That was the way,” Abner agreed, suppressing a wince. She was trying to honor the rules of the house about the vocabulary, but the reality remained ugly. “When he was distracted.”

“Yes. It had to be then, because he was alert the rest of the time. He’s done sopaths before. He fucks us, he doesn’t trust us. He knew to turn off the phone. He grabbed my knife before he died. Twisted it from my hand. Stabbed me. Then he dropped. I had to get out from under him. Couldn’t go home this way. Couldn’t explain. Mom would never understand. Had to hide until dark. Came here.”

“Yes. And I trust you also understand the other rules of the house. Harm any member of it and I will kill you regardless of any other deals.” He knew he had to make a threat she understood.

“I know, Mr. Slate. I’m on normal behavior here. I need you.” By normal she meant souled. She had no conscience, but she did understand civilized rules. And she did need the family, as people who could be trusted to help her and not to betray her. As long as she behaved.

“Good. We will take care of you.” He was relieved.

She gazed at him, evidently in pain. “I did it for you, Mister Slate. Please. One kiss?”

“Do it,” Bunty murmured behind him. “She earned it.”

Indeed she had. This much he could do. He went to the bed, leaned down, and kissed Nefer on the mouth, the way he knew she wanted. She met him with surprising passion. She smiled blissfully, sighed, and sank back into unconsciousness.

He watched her as she slept. She looked angelic. What irony! Yet she had one curious quality: she wanted his favor. He had not understood before getting to know her that a sopath could have such a desire. It was a revelation. It meant that the desire for approval was independent of conscience.

Nefer woke when Dreda came to relieve Abner. “You want to talk,” Nefer said to her.

“I’m not supposed to mess with you, just make sure you’re okay,” Dreda said uneasily.

“Talk about what?”

“Tell her,” Abner murmured, delaying his departure. He had half a notion what was bothering Dreda.

“My brother was a sopath,” Dreda said. “He tried to—to—”

“To fuck you,” Nefer said. “I mean, rape you.”

“Yes. He said he liked me, and he tried to do it, and I killed him.” She gulped, and continued. “You like daddy. So sopaths can like people. Maybe I shouldn’t have killed him.”

“He lied. If he really liked you, he wouldn’t have forced you,” Nefer said dismissively. “He just wanted the fuck. I mean, the sex. Some boys do. Even some girls. It can be fun.” She sank back into sleep.

And there it was, confirmed, directly from a sopath. Nefer had said the same thing that Abner and Bunty had told Dreda at the outset. Abner could see that Dreda was immensely relieved. She had truly killed in self-defense.

And maybe he owed Nefer one, apart from the deal to kill the pedophile. Had she reassured Dreda because she wanted to please him? That seemed likely.

Later in the night Bunty rejoined him in bed. “Interesting sequence as Clark relieved me on watch,” she said. “He was nervous, and Nefer asked him what he wanted. She’s one sharp observer of people. He was mighty interested just where the man had put what. ‘He put his hard penis in there,’ she told him, showing her vagina and pointing. ‘It hurt, some. Then I stabbed him to death. The way Dreda did with her brother.’ That evidently satisfied Clark’s guilty curiosity.”

“From the horse’s mouth, again,” Abner said.

“She’s a sopath, but there are things to appreciate about her.”

“She’s trying to ingratiate herself with our family.”

“And succeeding,” Bunty said. “I don’t like any of this business, but we do need her for our dirty work.”

“We do need her,” he agreed morosely.

“You won’t have to have sex with her, Abner. She’s a sopath; the only way she knows to get the real appreciation of a man is sexual. That’s immediate and powerful. If you could persuade her that you liked or respected her in some other manner, I think she’d be satisfied.”

“What other manner?”

“I don’t know. I think we need to study her. We are already learning things we never discovered with our own sopaths. Maybe if we understood their positive qualities as well as their negative ones, we’d be better able to deal with them.”

“You are remarkably tolerant.”

“Just practical. We need to handle the sopath challenge, and ignorance won’t help.”

“You are surely right. You’re more objective than I am. I love you.”

She looked at him archly. “Are you just trying to get into my pants?”

He realized with surprise that he was turned on. “That too.”

“Then take it all,” she said, clasping him.

*

The item was in the morning newspaper. A criminal drug dealer, a known pedophile, had been stabbed to death by a person unknown. The conjecture was that one of his victims had done it. It was scant on detail, probably deliberately, so as to keep the likely sopath aspect out of the news.

The counter-message had been delivered: the criminal element would not be tolerated in this neighborhood. That assassination would be met by assassination. It was hardball. Would that be effective? Abner was gambling his reputation with Pariah that it would be, but only time would tell.

Meanwhile they had Nefer as a patient. She seemed somewhat recovered, but not ready to leave on her own power. She wasn’t faking it; she really was weak from blood loss. “Your family will be concerned,” Bunty told her as she fed her some breakfast.

Nefer was surprised. “I guess so.” She was a sopath; she lacked empathy. Her concern of the night had been only to conceal her state from those who would not understand, complicating her life.

“Can you call them?”

“Sure.” Nefer found her cell phone and touched the number. “Mom? I had an accident and couldn’t make it home last night.” She paused. “Yes, I sneaked out. I’m sorry.” Another pause. “I’m at a friend’s house. It’s okay.” Another pause. Then she covered the mouthpiece. “She wants to know where. You’ll have to tell her. Name’s Johna Biggs.” She handed the phone to Bunty.

Bunty picked right up on it. “Mrs. Biggs? I’m Bunty Slate. It seems Nefer came over to see my daughter, but was intercepted by a sopath. She got away, but was stabbed in the arm. We had to take her in. She was unconscious much of the night, but seems to be recovering now. Yes, of course. Here is our address.” She concluded the call and returned the phone to Nefer.

“You’re a good liar,” the girl said admiringly.

“It was as close to the truth as she needs to know. She’s on her way here.” Bunty quirked a smile. “Does this count as fulfilling a get out of jail card?”

“No,” Abner said. “She got injured in the course of doing our dirty job. We still owe her the bail.”

“And you kissed me,” Nefer said. Then she closed her eyes and sank back into sleep.

“She’s right,” Abner said to Bunty. “You are a good liar.”

“We do what we have to do. All of our lives would be in jeopardy if word of her part in the assassination got out.”

“Remember,” Bunty cautioned the children. “Her folks don’t know she’s a sopath. You are now officially Nefer’s little friends.”

“Got it,” Dreda agreed.

“I can lie too.” Clark nodded in agreement.

Mrs. Biggs arrived, the woman Abner had seen in the store. She hurried to the girl. “My baby! We were so worried!”

“I was a bad girl,” Nefer confessed. “I snuck out and got in bad trouble.” Then she started crying.

Her mother was immediately comforting. It was clear that Nefer knew how to manage her.

In due course Nefer was packed into her mother’s car and taken home. The family could finally relax.

“But you know, we have crossed the line,” Bunty said. “We knowingly used a sopath to kill a normal.”

Exactly. “We do what we have to do. We are at war.”

And, indeed, so it seemed.

The Pariahs were on full alert for the next few days, but the neighborhood was quiet. Either their watchfulness was effective, or the criminals had not yet tried to strike back. Unless the message had been received, and there would be no further trouble.

Then a bomb exploded, sending a car careening out of control. They studied the site, and concluded that it was a mine that had been buried under a loose section of the pavement, primed to detonate when a car tire pressed it flat.

The war was not over.

“Metal detectors,” Abner said. “We need to spot any more of those things that show up.”

They got the detectors, but two more cars were wrecked before they zeroed in on an unexploded mine. One of the Pariahs knew how to handle it. They deactivated it, dug it up, and stored it in a safe place.

There was a memorial service for Sylvia, attended by more than just Pariahs. She had been a force for good in the neighborhood. Even several policemen attended, and some spoke. It was evident that they were sorry about what happened.

The police chief approached Abner after the service. “Someone will have to take her place,” he said. “You could do it.”

“Me! I’m a family man.”

“Who takes out sopaths. Who doesn’t like criminals. Or so I hear. Well, what you do is your own business. But watch your back. That pedo was part of a larger operation, and they don’t like to be challenged. They use the sopaths as drug runners. Some of them can be bought for just candy. We can’t be everywhere all the time, and now we know how they react to a straightforward complaint. So we won’t try that again. But we’ll support you in our fashion.”

“Thank you,” Abner said tightly.

There seemed to be no alternative. He met with the Pariah members and informally assumed the mantle of their local leader. This meant that newly bereaved sopath survivors would be directed to him, and he would have to try to find assistance for them. It promised to be a headache, but someone had to do it.

They continued to take out sopaths, mostly young ones, ages three and four, who managed to get out but had not yet become wary of candy. It was evident that this was a rising global problem; their neighborhood was typical, not special.

The older sopaths, ages five, six, and seven, were fewer in number, but canny and dangerous. They carried drugs and guns, delivering to that broad market for both. And child prostitution.

Abner took Dreda to visit Nefer at her home, during her recovery. She was confined to her room for health reasons, and was antsy. Her arm was healing without complications. Dreda made a show of hugging her, and Nefer hugged her back. Then Abner talked with Mrs. Biggs while the two children chatted by themselves. After half an hour Abner went to fetch Dreda.

“I have cookies,” Mrs. Biggs said. “This way.”

“I’m tired of cookies,” Nefer said. So Dreda went with the woman, leaving Abner alone with Nefer for the moment.

“I gave Dreda the scoop,” Nefer said. “Please.”

He knew what she wanted. He sat down beside her, put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her on the mouth. Again he felt her surprisingly mature passion.

“Thanks,” she breathed.

Nefer was, bit by bit, having her way with him.

On the way home, Dreda filled him in. “She did sneak out some. She knows some normal children she gets information from. She trades feels for it with the boys, stolen trinkets with the girls. She gave me the local address of the criminal sin—syndi—”

“Syndicate.”

“Syndicate, where they distribute the drugs.”

“That’s what we need to know,” Abner said. “Thank you, Dreda. I know you don’t like being friendly with a sopath, but it really helps.”

“Actually, she’s not bad, now that she’s treating me like a friend. It’s an act, but it works. You’re the one she wants.”

“I kissed her. I can do that much.”

“She’d do anything for a kiss, and more if you let her touch you where she wants. Maybe you should let yourself like her a little, daddy.”

“I’ll try,” he said.

There were Pariahs who knew how to use the Internet to track things down. They verified that the local source of the drugs was the address Nefer had given. They focused on it, intercepting more of the older sopaths now that they knew where to find them.

Then as Abner was backing out of his carport, there was an explosion under his car. The car was heaved up and thrown on its side. Only the secure seat belt saved him from a severe battering or worse. As it was, he was knocked out for a moment. He came to as Bunty was struggling to get him freed from the harness and out of the burning car.

The syndicate had zeroed in on him and tried to assassinate him, just as it had Sylvia.

“They’re playing for keeps!” Bunty said as she got him into the house and into bed. “Abner, we can’t continue like this!”

“We can’t quit, either,” he said. “We can’t turn the neighborhood over to the criminals and sopaths.”

She shook her head, knowing he was right.

He spent three days recovering, on Bunty’s insistence. He was bruised all over, and had an oppressive headache, but nothing was broken. Pariahs visited, commiserating.

So did Nefer. “Don’t tell me you care,” he teased her weakly.

“I do care,” she said. “You still owe me a jailbreak.”

Oh, of course. Trust her to have a selfishly practical motive. “I will honor it, if the time comes.”

“Do you want me to get in bed with you and rev you up?”

Was she trying to be helpful? “Thanks, no. Why did you come?”

“You’re going to get them back, right? Same way as we took out that pedo?”

He hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t think the same ploy will work this time. They aren’t pedophiles.”

“You’ve got that bomb.”

“Return the favor? Suddenly I like the way your mind works, Nefer. But I fear planting it where it counts would be impossible to accomplish. They’ll have guard dogs and electronic sensors.”

“But a sopath runner could get in. Maybe plant the bomb.”

“That thing must weigh a hundred pounds.”

“I could tote it on a wagon. Set it off in the house.”

“It would be suicide!”

“But it would get them.”

He stared at her. “Are you serious? You’re a sopath, you care for your own hide above all else.”

“I’d do it for you.”

“No.”

“Take me in bed with you now, and I’ll do it tonight.”

“You’re crazy!”

“No. But maybe in love.”

“You’re a child and a sopath. How can you love anyone other than yourself?”

“I’m a child and a sopath,” she agreed. “But I think I love you. Just being near you turns me on.”

Abner considered that. “May I consult with my wife?”

“Consult with them all. It’s a deal I’ll make.”

In moments the family was there with them. “Nefer has offered to be a suicide bomber, to take out the criminal distribution center. In return for sex with me. She says she loves me. Is this possible?”

The three of them focused on Nefer. “Let me hold your hand a moment,” Bunty told her.

Nefer offered it. Bunty took it and put her finger on the wrist, checking the pulse. “Now take her other hand, Abner.”

What was Bunty up to? Abner reached and took the girl’s other hand.

“Suddenly her pulse is accelerating,” Bunty said. “Now kiss her.”

Abner brought the girl to him and kissed her gently on the mouth.

“Racing,” Bunty announced as she released Nefer’s hand. “She either loves you or hates you.”

“I love him,” Nefer said. “I want to make him love me back, or at least like me a little. Knowing I’m a sopath.”

Bunty nodded. “As a sopath, she lacks civilized limits. A normal child would suppress romantic or sexual appetite for an adult, feeling shame. Nefer has no such restraint. She loves you and is bargaining openly for your return love. It’s a fair offer.”

“The hell it is!” he snapped. “I would not take advantage of her like that, either way.”

“I know you wouldn’t, dear. My point is that she is willing to do anything to win your favor, including suicide. That has to be respected.”

“You’re helping me!” Nefer said, amazed.

“I’m helping the man I love to accomplish his purpose. There are nuances that you are not equipped to understand, Nefer, but the essence is that yes, I support your case.”

Taken aback, Abner looked at Clark and Dreda. “What’s your take on this?”

“When she’s acting decent, she’s not bad,” Clark said.

“I don’t want her to die,” Dreda said. “I like her.” That was a formidable admission.

Now Nefer spoke. “You know I’m only pretending. I’m not your friend, Dreda. I can’t be anybody’s friend.”

Dreda looked cannily at her. “Daddy loves me. You love daddy.”

“So?”

“Let me interpret,” Bunty said. “A significant part of what Abner is, is his love for his family. We’re not his original family, but we’ve all had similar experiences with sopaths and we understand him, and he understands us. We fulfill each other. We all hate sopaths. But now we are coming to accept you, despite your nature, in part because you love Abner too. Maybe in a different way, but you do. You are coming to accept us because you can’t love Abner without loving what he loves too.”

“Sure I can. I don’t care who else he loves.”

“And you’re not jealous of his love for Clark and Dreda?”

“They don’t want to have sex with him.”

“Point taken,” Bunty said. “But what about me? I do want to have sex with him.”

Nefer gazed thoughtfully at her. “And you’re helping me. I don’t understand that.”

“Maybe I think that if he had sex with you, then the challenge would be gone and you’d lose interest and go away.”

“Bunty!” Abner protested.

Nefer shook her head. “Wouldn’t work. I’d want him to keep fucking and fucking me all the time.”

“I’m not going to do that!” Abner said.

“I know,” Nefer said. “But at least this way I can be close to you.”

“You can be close to him by being close to Clark and Dreda,” Bunty said. “If he knows you’ll be protecting them from harm, he’ll value you more.”

The girl pondered, working it out. “That’s right. He’d kill me if I did anything bad to you or them, but if I help them, maybe he’ll like me.”

Abner saw his opportunity. “Maybe I will,” he agreed.

“Via that avenue you can be Dreda’s friend,” Bunty said. “Perhaps not one to be completely trusted, but there are different types of friends.”

Nefer stood there, mulling it over. Then tears started rolling down her face. “I—can—be. A friend.”

Dreda put her arms around Nefer. Then the others closed in, and they were a close group with Nefer in the center. It was similar to their nightly grief sessions, but this was a kind of joy.

After a moment they separated. “Here is another truth,” Bunty said to Nefer. “When you pretend long enough, you can come to accept it as a kind of reality. To be what you pretend to be. You will never have a conscience or feel remorse, but as long as you act as if you do, you can have the benefits they bring. Including survival.”

“I pretend at home,” Nefer said. “But they don’t know.”

“We do know,” Abner said. The girl was a consummate little actress emulating normal feelings she lacked, but was committed in her fashion. “That’s the difference.”

Nefer was still working it out. “So I don’t have to fu—to have sex with you to make you like me. I just have to act like a normal.”

“That’s it,” Abner agreed. “Now I can say it: I do like you, Nefer. Some. Maybe the way I might like a vicious guard dog, but as long as I know it is loyal to me, I like it.”

She shook her head, bemused. “Weird.”

The others laughed.