Chapter 16: Aftermath
Wayne had also discovered that his devotion to women was a lesser form of his wish to benefit all mankind. Modern hedonism had been a mask for an untapped activist center. The church had exploited this. Wayne considered himself a man realized. The Llama, no matter how virtuous his original intentions, would have to have his affairs opened to public scrutiny. The public also deserved to know the real story behind the PHOENIX and the AG’s role in rescuing the city. Wayne had made these objectives his mission.
Chapter 15: Confrontation and Reunion
The AG went into the dressing room of the cute boutique carrying a bathing suit and a Capri cruise-wear outfit. She spent quite some time getting used to the feel of them, walking between mirrors, swiveling and pivoting. The AG had lapsed into her old preoccupation with atmospheres- -what did the fabric feel like? What fantasy were the clothes realizing? What feelings did she get from them? So immersed was she, that handclaps from a small crowd of watching shoppers came as a real surprise.
Chapter 14: The AG Returns to Her Anarchist
The AG was not back. The Anarchist knew she was on her way, but feared she might have been detoured. Especially since she was unaware of how excruciatingly difficult time had become for him. Maybe she had ceased to care for him. She had seemed so serious and solidified on the phone, hard-sounding in a way most foreign to his experience. Had she been unable to reconcile his betrayal in her soul?
Chapter 13: Life in the A-Frame
The sun, glinting off the windowed front of it, reflected the ocean up to Sandy’s eyes, hovering above in a helicopter. She could almost make out the refractory windows, but not quite. She was too stunned, especially with the chloroform still in her system.
Chapter 12: Black Out
Mr. Dio took his bottles by the neck and placed them neatly in a plastic supermarket sack, mildly annoyed that it had no steadying cardboard bottom. He checked his office for personal effects and found none. In the beginning of his corporate life there had many photos and objects. Gradually, that changed. He lived so long in so many offices the very atmosphere became as comforting as a home without the necessity of decoration. In fact, he had come to resent any intrusions into the indigenous office ecology; the personal touches of plastic frogs or onyx eggs. Even his apartment resembled the anonymity of his office.
