F007 Diary Entry. The Dorks Gang.

Everything worked like a clock.

At five in the afternoon I have only five students. My selected targets. Their awkwardness reminds me of my own youth.

We are few, and an odd number. My assistant, Christina, is looking at us from the bleachers, her back straight. I asked her to take with her a sack with sporting clothes. She looks nervous even from here.

I move towards her, asking her to play with us. She takes her sunglasses off and reaches the changing room. Heels and nylons give way to tight pants, pumps and a top that leaves her navel free. Her long black hair tied in a ponytail, she reaches us complaining she does not know the game. The boys simply drool.

There is no game, just a continual sequence of blunders and fouls. I play against the gym teacher, youth against experience. Two stubborn men. The boys play another game; for them, anything that includes bumping Christina or falling over her is a goal. She tries to stay away from the ball, since every time she touches it the play resembles more rugby than soccer.

At the end I instruct Christina to shower. Long. I take the gym teacher away in my study, and after half hour I send him home. The school is desert. I walk back to the sport court. The boys' changing room is empty. Good boys.

They stagger back at my sight. Well, all of them except one who seems to have reverted to an animal state. I have to grab him and pull him outside of her. This displeases me, so I remark the fact breaking him a finger, then twisting it until he faints. It's not the pain or the fainting that they will remember, but the easiness with which I do that. I'm squatting a fly and they know it.

To their surprise, I let them go without a word, clumsily carrying their friends. Christina has spread a few tears but refuses to cry in front of me. I do not let her drive. I forbid her to speak, too. She knocks at my room later that evening. I send her away without a word, and I go to bed early.

F006 Diary Entry. Tuesday.

It's madness. The file on the nurse is empty of content. Just a few words on education, bank account - probably false - and meaningless remarks. I can feel someone laughing at me through the words there. Well, Venturi Muromachi, you're here to report on me? You're friends of someone higher?

Paranoia I guess. It could be true; she could be a plain, unremarkable.. But why the circle would..

I should meet with the two of them, Venturi and Mr. C. Would they ask for instructions? I still have to make out a plan. The largest part of the day is spent with the students' files, selecting the more promising targets. The circle so-called-friends will have to wait. I select a few promising target.

On my way out I meet the gym teacher. I organize a soccer match for tomorrow. The guys I selected will find a nice surprise, if my plan works. I pass a list of names to Mr. C and ask him to make sure they do not show tomorrow. I will have only the worst male students: a mix of frustration, pent up rage and hormones; the kind that is totally invisible for girls. Them, me and the gym teacher.. well, apart from someone else.

F005 Diary Entry. First day at work.

First day. I make a point of arriving first at the college. My assistant yawns shamelessly on our way in. I meet people, shake hands, smile and introduce myself. Too many faces to remember them all. With all of them, I use my old trick: I imaging grabbing their head, with a delicate but precise grip, one hand under their chin, the other high on the back of the head. Then I imagine bumping their head on the wall until I see the white inside. This way, I keep perfectly relaxed. Something everyone should do.

No time to talk with everybody; even with Circle member, it's just a few phrases of circumstance. I see Mr. C and I know at first sight we will understand each other. Dependable and self confident, the kind women like instinctively - so useful here. Then I gasp when I meet the nurse. She's coming out of a Victorian fiction, included accent and manners. No hint - I cannot read her, must check her file again.

Students everywhere. Pretty, ugly, happy, sad. I have no time for them. They flow from a classroom to the next one.

The afternoon is slow. I fight my way in the administration rooms, doing something I hate: checking accounts. All about power. Boring. But rewarding. I've already an idea of who is diverting money - there is always some, especially since the Circle is pumping so much money here. I have no intention of doing anything about that; only, they know I know.

When Christina takes me back, I'm destroyed. No call to Maci today. I give Christina an address; a couple hours from the school, but it's worth it. A glass and stone house, hidden in a forest, where I do bad things to people that works there; the Circle foots the bill. Nothing to be proud of. But at least I'll sleep.

V001 - Arriving

Hell.

I suppose it must be poetic justice that the Powers see fit to dump me in the colonies. Private school, physician, or what-do-you-have, "Nurse". Bugger.

Pleasantries with the Headmaster. Or what is it? Supervisor? Any way, I do not know him, but is a Power nontheless. Apparently higher rank than myself, bugger that. We shall see.

The college is clean well enough. Ward is tidy, though as expected the files are a complete disaster. The previous 'help' left rather abruptly I'm told. I shall have to get some pretty young girl to sort them out for me, while I sort her out. I am told the college has a sixty-fourty girl-boy ratio. At least there is a bright side to this purgatory? Of course their manners are excreble. They shall need some teaching, the Americans.

Teaching in a great many things.

F004 Diary Entry. Football Sunday.

I walk the corridors of the still empty college with my assistant, Christina, impeccable in her designer dress. Students are starting to flow back in for the Monday classes. I find a group of young people hanging lazily in the courtyard, breathing in the explosion of spring.

I send her to find sporting clothes and a soccer ball. They are a bit uneasy as we start - I'm not telling them who I am, so they take me for a gym assistant - but after a while we're all running after the ball. They're faster in the long run but I show them control of the ball and quick reflexes. Not bad for a geek and ex math professor. I study them, selecting the handsome ones, the ruthless ones. Better than looking at files.

During a break, I reach Christina who is looking at us from the side. I tell her to lose tight and panties, and to keep her thighs parted. She opens her mouth to protest but she knows better. She nods and walks away. When she comes back, the boys' eyes are drawn to her white legs. I do as if nothing happened.

F003 Diary Entry. Empty Saturday.

I wake up to the smell of coffee. Breakfast is ready but my assistant is nowhere to be seen. I take my time to get ready, I take my morning pills with careful determination. I call my wife, a short, bitter conversation.

The school will be closed again, so I get my people together and I tour the town, familiarising with the street and discussing hits with one of the assassins. I should talk with the local police and the gangs perhaps. I cannot find the wish to talk with them.

In the afternoon, it's school again. The cheerleader has gone. I find one of the janitors, doing nothing. I reproach him and he answers me. I hurt my knuckles, so I have my assistant bandage my hand before dinner.

F002 Diary Entry. The College.

The car stops and I'm looking at the main entrance. It's holiday, long weekend, and no one should be here. I push a button and the door unlocks. The hall welcomes me with a whiff of detergent.

I find my room, but I'm not in the mood to go in there yet. I pace the empty halls and corridors, restless, when I catch sight of one student. A girl practising cheerleader motions in the courtyard. I look at her from the window. Good material. I will see if Fairbanks had something on file about her.

The rest of the day slips by eventless. I read and write. I check the security systems. There is a holding room just under mine, but I feel no desire to check it. At six, I meet one of the assassins. I hate their kind. At least this one is of few words and efficient. Looks like a middle east character and speaks little, but he looks dependable. I hope I will never need his services.

The car with my assistant takes me to my new home. A wealthy, anonymous house. The assistant is a nice girl, perfectly fit to my tastes. We both know I have rights to do what I want with her. She looks relieved when I send her away to her rooms, in the back of the same building.