Just another day, some silliness in the news. Damn these people... my thought process barely got started when I heard Paul making strange noises.

"Ugh...", he said, coughing loudly from Billy's room. "Howard.. I do not feel well today.. *cough*"

"Why not? What's wrong? Some after-effect I didn't know about?"

"Nah... I think one of those assholes gave me the *cough* flu. Is there any aspirin or cough medicine in here?" Sickness. A thing I almost completely forgot existed.

"No, never was. I completely forgot- you can get sick."

"And you can't... figures."

"Well, actually, yes- for maybe a half hour for what you've got, maybe less. Our white blood cells kill that shit too fast for us to care."

"You mind lending me some?"

"Well, Paul, that would be the ideal solution.", I replied. "Only one problem. They destroy all foreign matter. You are considered foreign matter to any of our white blood cells."

"Great, I'll add being eaten from the inside out cell by *COUGH, cough* cell to my list of bad fates."

"Paul, if you want to get rid of it, go take a bath in water a hundred and seven degrees Fahrenheit for at least twenty minutes. Swim in it downstairs, it'll keep you awake.", I heard Billy say. "That should help bust it... cough medicine and aspirin don't really cure anything." Paul went to go fry his germs.

"Actually, Billy, there are things at Northberg that can help... but for most of them, the cure's worse than the disease." He left his room to talk to me.

"Okay, Howard- if the cure's worse than the disease, why would they make anything like that?"

"Experiments, and such... we've made a drug combination that can kill 99.999% of all bacteria, and a good amount of virii with it."

"And you haven't released it to the population."

"It would be a great way to kill them. Do you understand what happens in normals when the local microorganisms die? If they were ever taken off the drug, they'd be pneumonia bait. Superinfection, I believe it's called."

"But you've got an entire medical lab... Howard, that is pretty pathetic, if you don't have things to get rid of the simple shit.", Billy said, walking out of his room and looking down off the railing.

"Yes, we do have things. But Billy, I have seen way too many of my brethren rely too much on things. They don't understand that every medical action they take upon themselves, there is a reaction, something else happens, some of them are even addicted a bit. They want.. they want to be like us, only they can't. For example, Paul could be given antibodies to the flu, and it'll be gone in less than a day. But then his system will never develop them itself, and the next time someone gives it to him, he'll get it again. Fever-reducing drugs will destroy the heat he needs to help, and anything to stop the runny nose will make the process of nasal germ removal slower. So many of them don't understand... they don't understand that they're not meant to live forever and that their bodies have ways of making them live a specified time. If you're going to use artifice, you have to make the people artificial. Remember that, Billy.. he'll kill it himself, he doesn't need anyone's help. If I believed that he did, I would have given him Prozac for his occasional depression." Most of what I just said came from Daddy a few years back.

"Which makes people psychotic, if I remember right. Howard... this is about a lot more than just Paul, isn't it. You're a little.. no, forget that, you're fucking pissed off. What the hell happened?"

"I don't think that was hard to figure out. It's this.", I said, whacking a certain part of the Real News. "I think I caused this, Billy. I said I would complete the final objective and now everyone's trying to live long enough to see it even if they know they won't. A new super antioxidant that slows down the human body, 'blood-checkers', and some other shit. They're already doing all the stuff that won't hurt them, eating the right foods, doing the right exercises, making sure they don't die of heart attacks and whatnot, getting Northberg to modify what DNA they can afford to, all the natural stuff and the unnatural that won't hurt them, but now they're doing more. It'll all improve their quantity of life, but blow their quality to shit, some of that will slow down their thinking and some of it will require them to stick needles in themselves all day, or take pills that will fuck around with their emotions. What the hell is wrong with these people? These are Illuminati here! Even if a retrovirus for everyone comes tomorrow, the ones today should be able to accept death!" I was lecturing and ranting, but that's my prerogative.

"Howard, you say that because you're immortal. They're not. They don't know what happens when they die. And it's coming up to them, slowly but surely, it's the Grim Reaper. That's where that comes from.. a guy" Sarah wasn't nearby to correct me on that. "in a cloak with infinite stamina coming along faster than they can run steadily, they can sprint faster, but they can't stay ahead.. but they're trying to outrun it anyway, because when it catches them, that's it, they're gone, off to a place no one knows. It's their fear, Howie. They're afraid... and you'd be afraid too."

"Yeah.. you're right, I'm just pissed. They're all going to be engineered someday anyway and the Reaper will catch up to the current ones. Not a really long-term problem, I know. I just hate reading about" BZZZZZERT "it." The buzzer cut me off and I accepted the communication.

Fourth level Deborah Puff was on the screen, chubby and thirty-something. I didn't recognize her. "Dominator!", she yelled shrilly. "I absolutely.. need that you get this woman, Claire Sanders, out of my Malaysian operations!" That 'need' there was a 'demand', she just changed her words so as not to piss me off.

The screen faintly hissed, and I checked to see who it was- yup! Claire Sanders. I grinned a bit and set the screen to three-way calling mode, displaying Claire's older, much skinnier form next to Deborah's. This'll be much easier this way. Once the two of them could see each other, they immediately started bickering at each other in screeching, yammering tones.

"Both of you shut up.", I quietly said. They didn't want to, but they knew what would happen if they didn't, and I clenched my left fist and displayed the blades to remind them. I went into one of the forms of speech I use, a calm, all-controlling voice of high-born power. "One of my servants has become ill and I am not in a very good mood. If the two of you are incapable of having this conversation civilly, then I'm simply going to kill you both and have a single person settle the result." They knew I wasn't bluffing. Now to end this quickly, as I'm really not in the mood for this. "Now, Deborah, you called me first, explain what you do there and your grievance against Ms. Sanders as concisely and as accurately as possible."

"I'm in charge of a lot of Islamic control in the region. I was instructed by a third level, Mr. Arnold Hobbes," Name-dropping won't help you here. "to use all available communication means and controllers to hold the loyalty of the largest Islamic paramilitary force in the area. I took control of RTM as part of that. A couple of weeks later, I had a few agents report that they were running into agents of another Illuminatus, and that's Claire Sanders." Claire so badly wanted to interrupt, but knew that I'd dislike that.

Her turn came. "Claire, explain what you do there and your grievance against Ms. Puff as concisely and as accurately as possible."

"I've had the responsibility of trying to keep Asia pretty much unified for years. One of the ways I've been doing this is by keeping the broadcasts and various cultural stuff aligned as much as possible. I've had eminent control for a long time, I just went to taking RTM, which is when I suddenly found my people running into her agents." Similarly, Deborah wanted to shriek when it was Claire's turn, but did not out of fear.

"Oh, I see what's going on. You're stepping on each other's toes. And both of you are so thoroughly, utterly convinced that you are right that right now there's very little chance of a resolution." Genetic normals can be so much of a pain in the ass. "Now, Deborah, did you even bother to research any possible eminent control over those kinds of operations in that region? Did you notice that there was a Pan-Asian control system put into place?"

"No.. no, I didn't.", she replied, chastened.

"Claire, did you perform any checks or research to determine if there was another Illuminatus who had taken control of that particular broadcast outlet?"

"I didn't think that-", she shouted, and I simply looked at her in unspoken threat. "No, Howard."

"Listen to me carefully. Your goals are not in direct opposition." They both shook their heads in agreement. "The two of you are to share this resource with each other's interests in mind, as both of you have a legitimate claim to it. You will cooperate in good faith. And if I hear of any more childish silliness between the two of you, I am going to be the one throwing the temper tantrum." Ask James Baker what happens when I do that. "I do believe you both understand?" They did indeed. "Good." Click. My servants were sitting at my sides, and I turned to each of them, sighing. "Now, you see, if they had bothered to have any kind of reasonable discussion before calling the Dominator, I wouldn't have had to deal with that." I then looked up details of Claire and Deborah's control operations in Malaysia.

A few minutes later, I heard Paul say through the intercom, "Ugh... god damn this hurts.." What the hell? Is something going on with the water? I rushed to the elevator and waited for it to come up. Strangely enough, Billy didn't follow me as I rode it back down and rushed to the pool.

Paul was just outside the pool, and he looked to be in intense pain. There was sweat mixed in with the pool water, I could smell- I felt the heat from the pool's water- and yet Paul was shivering as if cold. Holy shit, he's badly fucked up. "Howard... Billy..?", he asked.

"Howard.", I answered. I was about to ask him if he could walk, but to hell with that. Something is obviously very wrong with him. I picked him up; his weight was negligible. "Not sure what the hell happened but I'll get you to Northberg asap."

"No, it's okay.. I'll be all right.", he said, to my relief. "Just.. take me to bed.. okay? And smack Billy for me.." That's what had done it! I surmised that the hot water probably gave him Hell's fever and expanded his blood vessels, causing pressure and pain. What the hell? Billy didn't- couldn't have- hurt him like this intentionally. Did he really tell him to do that so self-assuredly without genuinely knowing?!

As I rode back up the elevator with Paul in my arms I realized why Billy hadn't come. He realized what he had done and didn't want to face it.

I came out at the second floor, and carried Paul to bed- Billy walked up the stairs after me and I could tell by his face that he was quite upset over it.

"Billy, hold very still.", I commanded him. He watched my right hand as I smacked him- not a battle hit, just a smack- on the left cheek. Let it be known that the Dominator's servants have caused him to do things he didn't want to do; I didn't want to do that in the least, and felt as if I had breached some line I had set down for myself when I did. "You can move again.".

"Howard- you've never-", Billy said, surprised.

"Caused you any physical pain intentionally. I know. That was a requested courtesy to Paul, and considering what you did to him I'd say you deserved it."

"I didn't mean it!", he exclaimed, apologetically.

"I know that. You're not a normal, Billy. Unless you study it, you don't know their biology." That was the other half of the problem. He hadn't just hurt Paul; he had acted in ignorant arrogance. That's not really something I can command him not to do- not without having him second-guess himself- and yet it has a potential of getting me killed if he acts arrogantly in other areas. I probably shouldn't be this hard on him for this sort of simple mistake, but it's simple things like this that can turn an otherwise good plan into what I've heard called a Charlie Foxtrot.

"I did study it, and even I didn't know that one.", Sarah said.

"Neither did I.", I said. "But I didn't tell him to do that." Billy understood. I didn't like to see him upset, and I was fairly certain that watching Paul suffer- as he went into his room, downcast, to do- would hurt him considerably more than my strike. He closed the door and I turned to Sarah.

"Sarah, have I ever done anything like that?", I asked her.

"Oh yes. It didn't have quite that kind of effect, but don't you remember when I was brought here? I barely knew what the fuck was going on and you didn't have a clue."

"I remember." Wow, what an embarrassing series of memories. And that only happened a few months ago, too. Although I was taught how the implants worked, I really did have no clue. Before I put things together, I almost thought I'd have to command her to go to the bathroom. Fortunately, all my errors were on the side of caution. I just smiled at her and gave her a hug.

Paul was up and drinking copious amounts of grapefruit juice in a few hours. Billy ordered several large wads of fluid-absorbing cloth for him- I had no idea why he'd need so much until I saw him coughing great gobs of phlegm into them over the next week (down the incinerator with that crap!), even when most of his other symptoms were gone. It's amazing how much goop a sick normal can cough out and still remain basically okay. I did need to make more threats over that week, but fortunately we didn't need to go on any raids.