Santa Command—Control Room 8
December 25th
0524 hours
Phil clutched the edge of his chair to keep from falling out of it. Paige Murphy's face was there on the view screen, larger than life. Two years had passed since he'd given the order to wipe her memory, but he had never forgotten the horrified look in her eyes right before it happened. She wore that same look now as Tracy knelt next to her bed with tears in her eyes. Sasha was perched on Tracy's shoulder, and Chris and Jared were hovering just inside the door.
What are they doing in there?
Tracy's lips moved, but the camera was in a tree outside the closed window. Phil couldn’t hear a word. He spoke into his headset. “Sasha, do you copy?”
The Inkling looked straight at the camera and nodded.
“Good,” Phil said. “Get me some audio.” It wasn't an order. It was a plea. He needed to hear what was being said in that room.
Sasha fiddled with something on her earpiece. The speakers in Santa Command crackled, then Tracy's voice filled the air.
“—couldn’t do it. I screwed up. Big time.”
Paige lay on the bed, twisting her head from side to side like she was saying, “no.”
“It's okay.” Tracy took Paige's hand. “The doctor said the operation will work. We'll find another way to get the money, and we'll fix you. I promise.”
Money? Phil leaned forward in his seat. There's an operation that can fix her?
Paige's movements grew more frantic. She started whimpering.
Sasha jumped off of Tracy's shoulder and onto the bed. “It's okay, honey.” She touched Paige's arm.
Paige opened her mouth wide.
The sounds that she made came out as a cross between a hiss and a gurgle, but there was no mistaking what she said. “Dust! No!” She yanked her hand from Tracy's, balled up her fist, and knocked Sasha across the room.
Sasha yelped. The microphone in her earpiece filled the control room with a deafening squeal.
Everyone but Phil covered their ears. He spoke urgently into his headset. “Sasha. Sasha, answer me.”
“I will as soon as my ears stop ringing.” She picked herself up off the carpet and shook her head clear. “That was completely uncalled for.”
“No,” Phil said, “it wasn't. You're the reason she's like this.”
Sasha placed her hands on her hips. “I most certainly am not.”
“Well, not you exactly. It was me, but…” Phil's thoughts were too jumbled to say what he needed. If there truly was an operation that could help Paige, he had to talk to Tracy. “It doesn't matter. I have an idea, but I need you all back at Santa Command, now.”