SUPERGAL (part 2)
Andrew Sievert
1995

     All too soon the Tuesday meeting rolled around.  As nominal
head of her department, even if it was inactive, McLearan had to
attend.  She steeled herself for several hours of dry and
uninteresting arguments on how CheckMate's present crisis should
be treated as well as who might be best suited to lead them out
of it.  Director Huron had been pressing hard for the rest of
the company to take up her stringent security measures.  From
the outside it seemed to be working, considering that none of
the divisions under her had suffered any serious losses.
     McLearan felt rather lost in the crowd of suits in the main
atrium of the headquarters building.  Only those who owned a
substantial amount of stock had been invited, but when a company
is worth over five billion dollars, that amounts to a goodly
group.  Everyone was slowly ushered into the auditorium as soon
as the president of the company along with his aides and the
rest of the board of directors had arrived.  McLearan went to
take her place somewhat behind and to the left of Huron.
     "Missy?  Missy McLearan?"
     Turning, she blinked in surprise.  A younger man was
addressing
her.  He was not one of the normal crowd as evidenced by the
uncomfortable way he wore the substandard deep gray suit he was
in.  It was not a bad suit, but could not match up with the two
thousand dollar custom specials that were all around.  Another
difference was his age and the way he carried himself. 
Substantially younger than the surrounding industrial tycoons,
he looked to be in his late twenties, about McLearan's age and
he carried himself like an athlete.  Not enormous, he still had
enough size to stand head height over most of the surroundings,
with a subtly spiked and short brown hairdo separating him even
further from the gray and transplanted hairpieces around them.
     "Brian Landweir?  Brinnie?" she stopped.  This was the last
place she expected to see an old college friend, and at one time
something more, show up.  "I haven't seen you in years!"  Afire
with curiosity, she babbled on.  "What're you doing here?  This
is great!  Don't tell me after you vanished from college that
you went on to become obscenely wealthy and buy a controlling
interest in CheckMate..."
     Smiling that pearly grin that used to make her knees shake,
and
still did a bit to her surprise, he sat down in an unoccupied
chair.  "Nope, I'm not rich and famous yet, but I'm working on
it.  It's good to see you."  Suddenly becoming serious, he
continued, "Listen, I want to apologize for how I just vanished
like that.  I have reasons, good ones, but they can't make up
for the fact that I just left your life without so much as a by
your leave."
     "Brian, it's fine.  Really!" she commented as she watched
the
disbelief flash across his face.  "I received a letter in the
mail from your father a few days after you left, explaining your
problems with the government and all."
     "Really."  He looked thoughtfully at her.  "How much did he
explain?"
     "Not a whole lot actually.  Just that it had to do with the
chemical tests he underwent back in the sixties and their
possible side effects on you.  Basically I was told it was a
hush hush thing that had to do with your inactive reserve in the
military and all.  When I didn't hear from you for several
months, I assumed the worst.  I'm so glad to see you again!"
     He smiled and patted her hand.  "I'm glad to see you too. 
Oop,
looks like the meeting is starting.  Hope to talk to you later."
 Breaking off, he went to sit down next to the president and an
individual who McLearan identified as Senator Aldus after
several moments.  She contemplated her old college friend for a
bit.  It was nice to see him again, but what was he doing here? 
His father had let her know in no uncertain terms that she
should not get involved in his disappearance.  This return was
quite unusual.
     For the most part the meeting went as McLearan expected it
to. 
Huron started her subtle push for the removal of the president,
but for some reason he calmly let it go.  It was not until the
specific concerns of the meeting, that of the assaults, came up
that his game plan came forth.
     "I realize that many of you feel my recent activities to be
rather short of the mark.  Well, I wish to assure you that this
is not the case.  With the gracious aid of Senator Aldus, I have
brought in an expert in the field of accelerated humanity. 
Without further ado, I turn the floor over to Brian Landweir, a
SIA operative as well as an alpha class in his own right."
     McLearan blinked once again.  Stranger and stranger.  Not
only
was her old friend one of the highest ranked superhumans around,
he was also a member of the Supers Intelligence Agency, the
government organization dedicated to policing and enforcing laws
and regulations dealing with supers.  Watching Huron out of the
corner of her eye, she could see this was an unwelcome
development, to say the least.
     Brian took the podium with a cheerful smile and launched
into a
speech that revealed almost nothing about himself or the SIA,
but had the shareholders hanging on his every word.  He still
had the presence, McLearan mused as she watched him.  Brian had
always been the smooth talker, the magnetic personality that
attracted friends and enemies with equal ease.  She would have
taken his disappearance much harder if they had not been on a
serious downswing in their relationship.  As it was, she had
forgotten just how attracted to him she had been.
     She was so engrossed in introspection that she almost did
not
notice when Huron exited.  Quickly getting up and following, she
was able to catch a view of the director going up in one of the
glass side walled elevators.  Heading toward her office to relay
the news to her cohorts no doubt.
     McLearan was stuck.  The executive section of the building
was
accessible only to those who had the necessary passkeys.  Being
a lab ape, she did not have one.  Huron's visit to her office
could not be missed however.  She rushed toward the lunchroom.
     Considering the lateness of the hour as well as the
importance
of the emergency meeting, the cafeteria was empty.  McLearan was
not interested food however.  The door leading to the balcony
was more to her interest.  The CheckMate building, shaped like a
large pyramid, had stepped tiers all the way to the top.  Where
convenient these had been made into balconies, separated by a
distance of fifteen meters.
     McLearan glanced upward, then started unbuttoning her
blouse. 
Three levels up lay Huron's office.  If she could get close
enough under one of the office windows, perhaps she could make
something out.  No one could climb the side from balcony to
balcony however.  McLearan planned to be the first.
     Quickly, almost too quickly for her taste, her clothing was
off
and neatly stacked to the side.  All that was left was her
frilly pink briefs, her only concession to lace, and a sports
bra.  She tossed the cube in one hand.  "Here goes."  She
inserted it gently into her mouth.
     The first moments of the wormhole opening were the most
difficult.  It quite literally felt like something had exploded
in the stomach.  McLearan tensed her hands and groaned slightly.
 Then the rush hit.
     McLearan knew it was only the linkup between her brain and
the
excess energy now flowing through her frame, but to her it
seemed as if the universe expanded.  Endless, limitless vitality
burst through her, flooding every pore until she felt as if she
were shining light.  It felt as if she were not big enough to
contain it all.  And sure enough, she was not.
     McLearan watched as her abdominal muscle structure rippled,
then bent outward, swelling with the power that filled her.  Her
shoulders surged wider, pressing against the cool night air that
no longer had a chill edge.  Bending her arms back, she arched
up on her toes and let the change overcome her.
     A hiss of pleasure escaped her lips as her legs swelled,
lengthening slowly.  The underwear held on valiantly, barely
able to contain the new curves.  She could feel her bra stretch
tighter and tighter as her breasts grew.  Reaching forward, she
deftly disconnected the front strap, letting herself out with a
pop.  Looking down, she watched as she grew from her normal
mousy A to a DD and beyond, letting the bra cling around her
arms as best it could.  For some reason she was not quite sure
of yet, the things always outgrew the rest of her, ending up
like twin bags of jello on her chest.  It was nice to be
stacked, but this was almost to the point of rediculousness.
     As soon as the process finished, she rubbed a hand down a
tingling thigh, the other gently caressing the edge of her
breast.  "If I can patent this, I'll make a billion," she
murmured appreciatively, then turned her mind to the task at
hand.  There were sensors in the railings, easily overcome by
her new form however.  A vertical jump of over fifty feet was
child's play, and the landing was soundless, absorbed by bare
feet and cushioning thighs and calves.
     The last few feet were the most difficult as she carefully
dug
her fingers into the insulation edges of one of the window
supports and levered herself up.  The need for quiet made rapid
movement difficult, and it did not help that her chest held her
over a foot from the wall.  It was sort of like leaning into a
very firm pillow, in her opinion.  She gave thanks it was dark. 
A very buxom young lady who was almost unclothed hanging by her
fingers seventy stories above the street would raise a few
eyebrows, even in New York.  By the time she had made it to the
right floor, an impromptu meeting had already started in the
room inside.
     "There's no record of anyone by that name," Andrea grouched,
carefully pecking away at the keyboard with her oversize
fingers.  McLearan could barely hear them through the window,
but it was enough.
     "Of course he wouldn't be under that name.  The SIA is
secretive enough that they probably don't know what half of
their operatives are doing at any given time."  Huron chewed on
her knuckle thoughtfully.  "And we're so close as well!  This
couldn't happen at a more inconvenient time.  Blast the
president anyway.  This is all his doing."
     "And you," she suddenly snarled, turning towards a defensive
looking Tiffany.  "This is partially your fault!  I didn't want
to push anything to the point where any superhumans got
involved, but you had to go out and start doing things on your
own.  Don't deny it, I know what you've been up to."
     "So I killed a few people, big deal."  Tiffany slouched on
the
floor, her head almost coming up to Huron's level anyway.  She
crossed her arms underneath her breasts, giving them the
illusion of being even bigger with the shelf effect provided. 
"They all had it coming.  It's not like he can actually hurt us
you know."
     "That's not the point!  We don't even know what he can do! 
For
all we know he's a mind reader and is picking everyone's brain
as we speak."
     "Then I guess we'll just have to add him to the list. 
What's
the big deal, we all qualify as alpha class ourselves,
nowadays."  Tiffany shrugged off the entire situation.
     Huron glared at her for a moment longer.  No, we're not
going
to kill him, and no, compared to the high end guys, you aren't
even close.  However, since this is only a minor favor thing
with a Senator, we can assume this guy's pretty low on the totem
pole.  The problem is, if we take him out, then the government
will be down on us like a ton of bricks."
     Huron paced furiously for a moment.  "Alright, here's the
plan.
 We're going to have to scrap any long range plans for the
moment.  The focus is to remove the president from his position
and get me in there.  That way even if we can't keep you three
on the generator, at least I'll be able to work out something
for the future.  We're not going to kill anyone, but I'm going
to find out the itinerary of the president and his little SIA
sidekick for the next few days.  Tomorrow night you'll stage an
attack on him directly.  If everyone is roughed up, including
the president, opinion should turn against him long enough for
me to get him ousted."
     "Remember, no one dies," she said the last for Tiffany. 
"What
I want here is humiliation.  If it looks like the president
can't even take care of himself, I'll be able to sway his image
easily."
     "Ya wohl, mein Fuhrer," Tiffany snorted sarcastically.
     "I... I'm not comfortable with this..."  Brooke spoke up
quietly, almost too light for McLearan to hear.
     "Excuse me?"  Huron did not seem to be able to believe what
she
heard.
     "You heard me the first time."  Brooke had gained some
reserve.
 "When this was all going smoothly, it wasn't too bad, but this
is getting nerve racking.  SIA is nasty stuff!  They don't play
around, from what I've heard."
     She hesitated for a moment, then continued on.  "Also, I'm
tired of being a freak.  I want out after tomorrow.  Once you're
in as president of the company, I want to be normal again."
     Tiffany jumped up, agast.  "You actually want to give up all
this?!?"
     "All what?  Hiding out in what used to be an executive
office
all day?  Being an overmuscled mutant with enormous hooters?  I
just want to go back to the way my life used to be.  I'm not cut
out for this sort of thing."
     Huron rubbed her eyes tiredly, then waved down more protests
from Tiffany.  "All right, all right.  After I'm president,
we'll reverse the process.  But not a minute before!  Tomorrow
I'm going to need all three of you.  What we wish to do is hurt
people, not kill them.  That way opinion falls and SIA isn't
irritated to the point of sending a full team or anything like
that.  It's a fine line we're on ladies.  Don't fall off."
     Outside, McLearan smirked.  Huron did not know it, but she
was
already slipping.  Sliding down from her precarious position,
she hopped over the railing and dropped.  As soon as she was
next to her clothing and had made sure no one was in the area,
she spat the cube into her palm.
     To say that going back to normal was something of a letdown
was
an understatement.  The closing of the portal was the slamming
of a gate to something strange and wonderful.  Each time
McLearan did it she had to resist shoving the cube right back
in.  The energy boiled off, feeling as if it were escaping from
a shrinking balloon.  She physically looked like that as well as
she seemingly collapsed downward, her body going back to its
normal size.  The sports bra, now adequate to the task, scraped
along the side of her shrinking breasts.  As her legs twitched
back to normal, she gave a deep sigh and started to dress.
     The next plan was to find out exactly where the president
and
his senatorial ally would be tomorrow night.  Then all she had
to do was be prepared and in the area.

     Brian sighed, more in irritation than exhaustion, then
returned
to wandering along behind Senator Aldus and the president of
CheckMate Industries as they toured the fourth CheckMate
warehouse in as many hours.  He had only been in New York for
twenty five hours and already he was beginning to dislike it
intensely.  The original plan had been to assess the problem and
report back to SIA headquarters, but that hope for speed had
been dashed when he realized that a power struggle was going on
between the president and several of his chief directors over
just who would be running the company.  He was just another
piece to be waved around in the jockeying for position.  That
sort of thing bothered him.  It had been years since he had been
forced to take such a passive role, and it was galling.
     On a lighter note it was nice to see Missy again.  He had
lost
track of most of his friends and acquaintances from before.  Of
all the people that he had to run out on, she was the one that
hurt the most however.  At first, he had been ordered not to
talk to her.  After a few years, it was his option, but by then
he was sure she had forgotten him.  Seeing her at the meeting
had been something of a shock, bringing back old memories.  It
had taken him almost ten minutes to get to the point of talking
to her, then she vanished before the meeting ended.  Despite her
protests that she understood, he feared that she had left rather
than see him again.
     "Hmm?," Brian glanced up, realizing he was being spoken to.
     "I said, did you have anything to add to our comments for
the
press?"  Senator Aldus looked over to him.  With a start Brian
noticed that a crowd of reporters had already entered the room
and were busy filming and flashing away.  A forest of mikes and
camera lenses poked at him.
     Brian frowned for a second, a surge of anger washing over
him. 
Burying it quickly, he smiled and stepped forward.  In these
sorts of situations he preferred to remain in the background for
the sake of his anonymity, but Aldus had taken that opportunity
away from him.  The older man, seeing this as a excellent
publicity coup, spared no expense at alerting the media to his
location every chance he got.  An apparent relation to an
individual in the SIA would add to his reputation greatly.
     The second Brian had realized this, he started to rebel in
subtle ways.  For instance, at the moment he was casually
dressed in a pair of jeans and a somewhat worn flannel shirt. 
His sole concession to his position was a guest pass pinned to a
front pocket.  In several earlier conferences the media had
ignored him entirely, concentrating on the more photogenic
senator and president.  Now the senator was pushing him to the
forefront.
     "Well, I'd just like to add a bit to what I said last
night..."
Brian started, slipping into the role easily.  He did not have a
chance to go any further.
     The sound of one of the side bay doors being ripped off of
its
tracks brought the clamoring crowd to a dead silence.  Almost as
one, cameras, boom microphones and recorders turned towards the
cloud of dust that had risen from the falling metal.
     Gasps and comments of "It's them!" started as two figures
emerged from the gloom.  Impossibly tall, they were very female,
with enormous curves that were impossible to hide.  Not that
they tried, being covered in one piece leotards that clung like
a second skin.  Barefoot, since shoes just do not come in that
size, the only other covering they had were full face helmets
with reflective visors.  Spotting Brian, they strode forward.
     Brian stepped backward and shouted, "You, press!  Get out of
here!  Git!"
     Slowly at first, then with panicked speed as the two
giantesses
drew closer, the crowd parted.  Brian noted almost absently that
they were jamming up at the doors as well as that several were
spreading out in the warehouse, no doubt to see whatever
happened next.
     His next step backwards brought the back of his head in
contact
with a soft and malleable surface.  Turning, he stared into the
valley of what appeared to be some truly enormous cleavage. 
Hurriedly elevating his gaze, he stared into his own reflection
from a third mirrored visor.
     The voice that came from behind the helmet was out of
proportion to the size.  It was low, sexy and sultry.  "Not bad,
are they?  Here, want a closer look?"
     Before he could move, she reached out and grabbed him by the
back of the head.  With immense strength she pulled him forward,
stuffing his face directly into that crevasse before him.  Such
was her size that he was covered past the ears.  A startled
yelp, well muffled, was dimly heard.
     Placing a hand on either side of her prodigious bustline,
the
woman took a deep breath, then crashed her breasts together.  It
sounded like two rocks thudding against each other.  Brian
pulled free with a howl of pain, then clutched at his ears with
a grimace of agony.
     "Whoa, pretty strong there, little guy.  The last time I did
that I ended up with brains smeared all over myself."  With a
casual backhanded swipe, the huge woman flung Brian into a pile
of crating.  For a precarious second it teetered, then fell
directly on him, leaving only a foot protruding from underneath.
     By that time the other two had reached the crowd and waded
in,
tossing people left and right.  The woman who had just buried
Brian turned to the president.  
     "Looks like your expected help didn't quite... measure up." 
The president rolled his eyes wildly from side to side.  She
advanced until he was against the wall, her bust almost nailing
him there.  Slowly she reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling
it straight above his head until his patent leather shoe tips
were about to leave the floor.
     "Sad," she commented, shaking her head from side to side. 
"Can't even protect yourself, much less your own company. 
Tooooo bad..."
     The president paled to a dingy white and gasped as the sound
of
bones grinding together became audible.  She released him,
letting him slide down, cradling a hand that looked strangely
deformed and bent.  To his credit, he did not cry out, but
simply glared at his assailant.
     Tiffany turned from the president and gave a thumbs up
signal
to Andrea.  Acknowledging with a nod, Andrea turned and poked
Brooke, who was busy menacing an unknown camera man.  As she
approached he steadfastly held his ground, filming away.  The
lense did not move up from her bust however, staying focused
with a determined intensity.
     "I think we've done enough damage for one day, ladies,"
Tiffany
commented as they turned towards their entrance hole.
     "You've got that right!"  The shout came from above.
     Before the three could look about, a figure dropped down
from
the shadows of the support frames for the ceiling of the
cavernous room.  Landing with barely a noise, it straightened up
to reveal a sight none of them expected.
     A fourth woman fully as large as themselves stood before
them. 
Unlike their more utilitarian helmets and leotards, this person
was dressed in a latex or neoprene outfit that started high up
the neck and covered all but the arms and legs in a plastine
sheen.  The zipper front bowed out over the same massive
overendowments that they possessed.  A faceshield of bright red
cloth that did nothing to conceal a cascade of deep black hair
completed the spectacle.
     Despite her dramatic entrance, McLearan so nervous that she
was
shaking.  Part of it was sheer embarrassment at the outfit she
was wearing.  It had been expensive as hell as well as somewhat
risky to order it, but the mail order company in Europe had a
history of discreet custom jobs.  They had been incredibly
curious as to why a suit of this size had been ordered;
fortunately things had remained quiet.  McLearan's theory behind
the suit was that people would be far too interested in her well
displayed attributes to even begin to try and figure out who she
was.  Classic misdirection.
     Reaching down to where a broad belt encircled her waist, she
pulled a complex looking ball of wiring and clamps off.  It came
to life with an evil hum as she tossed it from hand to hand. 
"This is the end of it," she stated, then chucked the item at
the biggest of the three, Andrea.
     The ball struck solidly on one thigh, where it seemed to
explode, wires flying everywhere and clamping down.  Andrea
yelped under her helmet, reaching down to pull the thing off. 
"Not fast enough!" McLearan shouted, and touched a button on her
buckle.
     Andrea was suddenly outlined in a blazing aura.  Curses and
moans could be heard as cameras burned out and reporters were
flash blinded.  It was all lost quickly in the howl of mingled
pain and loss from the source of the brilliance. 
     In seconds the lightshow had ceased.  Andrea fell to the
floor,
her now too large leotard draped over her like a tent.  Her
massive headpiece clanked to the floor nearby.  She had reverted
to her original form.  Slowly, with a glazed look, she toppled
face forward.
     "Awright, it works!"  McLearan pumped one fist in the air
victoriously.  Tiffany and Brooke stared at the shrunken Andrea
in shock.
     "My God, she collapsed Andrea's portal.... That's
impossible!" 
Brooke looked up slowly.  "Who are you?"
     McLearan gazed at them levelly, her knees finally having
stopped their threats to knock together.  Pulling two more balls
from her belt, she hefted them.  "Who's next."
     Brooke flinched back, just what McLearan had been expecting.

The wire ball hit firmly under her throat, spinning a spider's
web of wiring around her neck and even spewing a few leads down
her front.  The burst of light enveloped her a second later,
flaring red white and causing shadows from the crates to dance
eerily along the ceiling.
     Tiffany's reaction was nothing of the same however.  Hurling
herself forward, she rolled over on one shoulder.  The ball
passed harmlessly overhead, splatting across a wall.  Continuing
the roll into a standing tackle, she effortlessly cleared over
five meters to slam solidly into McLearan's midsection.
     McLearan oofed at the solid hit as she felt herself plowed
backwards.  She slammed into the wall, cracks in the concrete
spidering out around her.  Tiffany leaned back, removing her
shoulder from McLearan's stomach and drew back one fist.
     Outside, the crowd was still milling about in the parking
lot. 
It could not be called a mob situation, since no one motive had
seized the collective mind.  Some wanted back in to see what was
going on, others intended to stay right where they were.  The
few wise souls, recalling news reports of people caught in the
center of superhuman fight, opted for retreat.
     With a dull boom of impact and a cloud of dirt, the side of
the
warehouse blew out along a three meter front.  A hurtling shape
arced across the street, striking a car and smashing through it
with no real lowering of speed.  The second car, a blue Impala,
was more effective, only rolling up on its side after absorbing
the impact.
     McLearan pushed aside the bits and pieces of car that had
cocooned around her, rubbing her shoulder where Tiffany's blow
had landed.  That one was definitely felt.  The suit had held up
well, but the mask was a total loss, having been torn by a
jagged edge of metal on her landing.  Growling under her breath,
she kicked the side of the car out and pulled herself loose.
     Tiffany yanked the helmet from her head, concrete fragments
on
the visor having clouded her vision to the point of being unable
to see.  Foolhardy individuals that had remained around started
madly snapping pictures.  It did not matter to Tiffany however. 
For the first time she was able to use her full strength, and
she was exaulting in it.  Laughing, she stepped through the hole
in the wall.
     Down the street she could trace the crash site of her
opponent
through the shattered remains of a few cars.  Assuming that her
opponent was at the end of that trail, she smirked.  A gentle
ahem made her glance to the side.
     "Looking for me?" McLearan asked, smiling sweetly.  She
allowed
Tiffany a moment to take it all in, letting her eyes widen with
surprise and dismay.  At just the right moment, she hurled the
Chevy Caprice Classic at Tiffany with all her might.
     The laws of mass and reaction being what they are, McLearan
was
hurled backwards herself by the force of the cast.  Tumbling
into the side of a store, she got up quickly enough to see the
chevy sailing down the street.
     Tiffany, spread across the front of the car, had just enough
time to turn her head and see the upcoming back end of the
parked tractor trailer.  "Oh Shi..."
     The Caprice struck with enough force to roll the trailer
bed,
shearing it from the cab.  Crumpled like an aluminum can, the
entire mass slid and crashed along, taking a light pole with it
in a shower of sparks.
     McLearan had no time to gloat however, as Tiffany tore out
of
the pile of twisted metal, screaming curses.  She charged back
down the street, great legs pumping, the distance rapidly
dwindling.
     It was almost too easy.  Tiffany had obviously lost it,
while
McLearan had plenty of training in just such a situation.  One
of the basic tenants of Judo is the redirection of the force of
an opponent's attack.  McLearan leaned to the side and guided
Tiffany's head to an asphalt shattering contact with the street.
     Reaching to her belt, McLearan allowed herself a bit of
elation.  She had won.  Now all that remained was to place a
ball on Tiffany before she recovered.  McLearan was not so naive
as to assume that the last bit was enough to knock her out.  Her
thrill of victory plummeted as her hand contacted her side, no
belt inbetween.  Looking down, she realized it must have been
torn away when she had hit the car.
     The loss of the belt was enough of a distraction that
Tiffany
managed to regain her feet before McLearan noticed her again. 
Holding one hand across her nose, she glared at McLearan. 
Suddenly her eyes lit up in recognition.
     "Dr. McLearan?"  The situation forgotten, Tiffany
straightened
up.  "It is you!  Looks like you got further along than we
thought."  She grinned, "The new look suits you.  I hafta get
one of those outfits."
     "I'm here to stop you."
     "You can't," Tiffany stated.  "We'll never be able to
actually
dent each other, and without your toys, you aren't going to be
able to do anything."
     "Then I guess I'll just have to hold you here until the
police
or SIA figure out what to do with you."  McLearan shifted her
weight, preparatory to making a lunge.
     "Wait!"  Tiffany put up her hands.  "Hold on.  Why do you
want
to do anything to me?  You've felt the power, the same as I. 
Why let anyone else have it?  Between the two of us, we could be
invincible, unstoppable.  Throw in Huron and between you and
her, we could rule the world!"
     "I don't believe this!  Here you are, a mass murderer,
trying
to get me to believe you won't kill me the second you get the
chance."
     "I only killed men," Tiffany stated in a dignified way.
     "Only..." McLearan choked.  "You're losing it.  The mind
neural
link is shorting out on you, big time.  Give up now and I can
get you help."
     "Give up?  To you?!"  The amount of scorn in Tiffany's voice
was amazing.  Turning, she patted one hand against her left
buttocks.  "You want me you're going to have to work for it,
sister.  There's a way I can beat you, you know.  Everyone keeps
forgetting I'm the one that broke into your computer in the
first place.  With a little fiddling and few programs of my own,
I can take you easy."
     "No," McLearan whispered.  "No, wait!  Don't mess with your
neural correspondence!  You have no idea what it might do!"  It
was already too late however.  Tiffany crouched and sprang away
in a huge leap, landing on a nearby rooftop and dashing out of
site.
     McLearan thought she knew what the other was up to.  There
was the possibility to increase the speed of the merging of the
brain to the body's new capabilities during her process, but the
side effects were too serious to even make it worth
consideration.  In Tiffany's current, somewhat deranged state,
she might be plotting something best left alone.  "I've got to
get to the lab before she does!"