Ghost in the Machine

Conflicting Identities

"Vera," his voice rumbled from the couch where he sat, legs crossed, a tumbler of whiskey in his glass. "Where did you go this afternoon? Your security detail says you were gone for hours."

"I was in the projector room," she glanced at him briefly, turning back to her computer.

"For the entire day?"

"Yes, Howard." Her tone had a cutting edge to it. "For the entire day."

"What were you doing?"

"It's a projector room, Howard." Impatient, she lifted her head, eyes narrowed. "What do you think I was doing?"

"Alone?"

Vera snapped the lid of her laptop closed as she stood up, staring angrily at her husband.

"Yes alone! How dare you, of all people, ask me that!"

"Of all people?" He stood, slamming his tumbler down hard enough to rattle the coffee table. "That's why I'm asking you, Vera! I'm the president! How would it look to have an unfaithful wife at this stage of my presidency?"

"Your..." Incredulous, she stared at him, half laughing half furious. "This is always about you, isn't it. How typical! For your information, Howard, I was going through old films of us, trying to understand how it was I managed to ever fall in love with such an ego-maniacal, selfish, thoughtless, womanizer like you!"

Her voice had risen with each insult, her skin going a shade paler until she stood white and trembling before him, so furious her hands clenched into tight fists. Heart throbbing painfully, she glared.

"How I hate you!"

Her husband strode across the room, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

"I'm not thrilled with you either, Vera, but until I say otherwise, you will show some respect! I am the president!"

"You're an animal-!" she cut off with a sharp cry, his palm cracking across her face. It left a faint red welt behind. Eyes shining with tears, she met his enraged look.

"I hate you."

When Howard slapped her again, she sagged to her knees, his grip on her arm twisting it painfully.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time, Vera, but I've never had good enough reason. I appreciate you giving me one."

His words sent a violent spark through her blood, whipping her head up eyes hot with anger.

"You'll regret this, Howard! I promise you!"

The next slap was a savage blow that slammed her shoulder into the carpet, ears ringing. Sniffing casually, the president stepped over her crumpled form, leaving their suite without looking back. Hair messy, face wet with tears, Vera shakily pushed upright. Her faced throbbed, but even as she sat there, panting, trembling, she felt the pain fade. Touching her features, Vera was startled to feel no swelling, no broken skin. Pushing to her feet, she staggered to the dressing room, gazing in disbelief at the reflection in the mirror. The red marks seemed to dissolve, skin returning to a healthy glow. When a flash of vibrant blue went through her eyes Vera jerked back with a cry, knocking over the chair.

Images flashed through her mind. Bright lights, a white room, pain, cold metal, something else- glancing at her reflection once more, Vera stiffened as someone else appeared in her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she looked closer, but whatever it had been was gone.

"What's happening..." frightened, shaking, she ran to the phone. "Secure outside line, V-victor Whiskey 4...48725."

Dialing, anxiously waiting, she jumped when his voice came on the other end of the connection.