Chapter 90 – The Perks of Celebrity
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They had been flying since the motorcycle shop in Omaha, following route 80 east from above. Somewhere in Ohio, the temporary merging of roads and changes in direction had caused them to go astray. Reading road signs didn't help reorient them without a map, so Sam continued generally east above various roadways. Beside her, Jess seemed to enjoy the experience. Her friend didn't feel any urgency to rush towards a city under attack and was thrilled to be receiving regular charges that gave her the power to fly. Sam found their journey far more stressful. They were lost and she had to be prepared to catch Jess the moment the charge ran out. That last concern was complicated by the fact that Jess had too much faith in Sam's ability.

Hunger finally drove them to land in the outskirts of Cleveland at a cafe. The dining room, only half full, slowly went silent at their entrance.

"That's the flying women," a heavyset woman announced. "Leather jackets and helmets."

Jess leaned close to Sam to deliver a stage whisper. "I think they're on to us."

Sam nudged her friend. "Flying?"

"Your pictures are all over Facebook," the woman explained. "People think you're going to New York to fight the terrorists."

"Or maybe help them," the man sharing her table huffed. "Darn world doesn't make sense any more. First the stars change, then aliens show up, and now people have magic powers."

"They're not magic," Sam corrected. "We don't chant spells or draw diagrams in blood."

"Or sacrifice virgins. Not that any of us would be at risk from that," Jess added with a wink to the heavyset older couple.

Sam's next elbow hit hard enough for Jess to emit an 'ow' and move away. Since escaping, Jess had been more Jess than usual. She couldn't tell if her friend was making up for lost time or what, but Jess was definitely trying too hard. "We are going to New York to meet up with the woman on television who killed the escaped prisoners. Though it would be nice if we could get some food and directions back to route 80. We don't have any money on us, but I can temporarily gift you with super powers. Ten minutes of the ability to fly has got to be worth a hot meal, right?"

The woman pointed for them to join her table. "Good heavens, I don't want to fly. I will put you on my tab and you go save America right after. That will be good enough for us. Right, Earl?"

"I suppose they look trustworthy enough without their helmets," the man said.

A waitress brought them waters and asked for their order, obviously trying hard to act normal with all the smartphones recording their interaction from surrounding tables. From glancing around the room, Sam had determined that the place mostly served desert foods and coffee. She did not have the slightest hesitation putting in an order for a coffee, a banana bread muffin, and a cinnamon bun. Jess squinted around the room before ordering a bowl of lentil soup and a coffee, an odd expression on her face. As the waitress departed to put in the order, Jess shook her head. "I think the Angmari might have tricked me into health food, Sam."

"I'm sure you can get over it if you try hard enough." Sam's somber delivery would have fit in at a funeral home.

Jess cracked a grin. "Probably. Until things settle down, though, I don't want to rock my digestive system with too much sugar or anything heavy."

The old woman leaned closer to them. "What is it you say about the Angmari?"

"The two of us signed up to join the Angmari fleet . . . what, a month ago? Something like that. They put us to work as slaves in an artificial food lab. Then politics happened, Sam learned super powers, and the two of us escaped back to Earth." Jess turned suddenly to face Sam. "Oh, right, I forgot to mention. We like Kistlen now."

"Kistlen? The pretty one?"

"Yes, her. I mean, she never stopped being lazy and useless, but all of the girls were living vicariously through her very messed up love life. Sam, her life was like a soap opera. You wouldn't believe it. Engaged to a hot guy who kept cheating on her. Being pursued by another who was romantic in the extreme but not up to snuff in the looks department. Offered a major promotion if she would be the mistress for an old asshole. She also hooked up with an ex every once in a while when she was on the outs with her fiance. I don't know how she managed to fit so much relationship insanity into the little free time supervisors got, but she told 'her girls' everything. I have so many stories to share with you."

"Just don't tell me we started to like Darla," Sam said.

"Oh, I don't think it's possible to like Darla. Do you think she is still stuck in my sleeping berth?"

"Not unless the authorities decided to keep her there."

"So fifty-fifty odds?"

"You wish. The Chief Executive probably gave her a medal for being such a bitch to English people."

The woman cleared her throat. "So if the Angmari gave you powers, who gave it to them? Was it the Angels who made their ship? And are they Christians?"

Sam pondered the questions for a moment, hesitant to insult the person paying for her meal. "The Angmari are mostly atheists. Some of them follow the Chekowan religion and worship the Outsiders. The Chekowan creator god is actually evil and if it ever wakes up, we all cease to exist. So the Outsiders are intervening to prevent that from happening. For some reason the plan of the Outsiders involves teaching humans how to use the talents."

"God is evil? They are most definitely not Christians," the woman said.

The man echoed her. "Definitely not Christians. God can't be evil."

"Of course not," Sam said. "On the other hand, the Angmari have super powers . . . ."

"Probably demonic in nature," the woman said. "We should pray over you. Ask Jesus to take away the taint of those unholy powers. It's not worth sacrificing your mortal soul."

"Can't music save her mortal soul?" Jess managed to look entirely sincere with her question.

The man squinted. "Are you quoting Don McLean?"

"Man, I dig those rhythm and blues."

"American Pie might be one of my all time favorite songs, but this isn't the time to be joking around," the man said.

Jess shrugged. "We're rushing to a city where people are throwing buildings around. It's either crack jokes or have a panic attack."

As their food arrived, the woman made a show of standing over them to lay hands and shout a righteous entreaty to cast out demons and purge spiritual taints. Sam ate as quickly as possible, hoping Jess wouldn't aggravate their benefactors any more than she already had. Perhaps fortunately, her friend's inexhaustible supply of quirkiness seemed to have been momentarily derailed by becoming the object of a very public prayer. Her only resistance was to mutter about "crazy evangelicals" under her breath.

They left as soon as their plates were clean.

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