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“It’s the ‘someone is hiding from my metasense’ pattern,” Tonya said, and whistled.  “But how?  That’s way above your juice pattern capabilities.”  They had talked about this many times; Gerry possessed only minimal personal capabilities, compared to the other Focuses of her age, but obviously possessed hidden power.  She was damned difficult to charismatically affect, her metasense acuity was legendary, and she shrugged off juice patterns like a pro.
    “I know.  Crow Gilgamesh was right when he told me he recognized the same problems he had, in me.  The pattern was so much easier to stabilize when I attached it to a physical object and could build it up incrementally.  Of all the things, I’m an object-oriented witch.”  She sighed.  “And now I told you.”  The first Focuses would go after Gerry as soon as they found out about her newly awakened talent, the same way they had crushed all the other amulet and potion-creating Focuses down through the years.
    “You’re only going to get into trouble from me if you don’t develop this,” Tonya said.  “My opinion about Focuses is ‘the stronger the better’, especially now.  Just watch out for side effects.  One of the reasons why we generally dissuade Focuses from fast ability development is the effect this sort of thing can have on their household and their personal life.”
    Gerry nodded.  She and Tonya had already exchanged horror stories about the side effects of their newly learned access to their household juice buffers.  For a Major Transform, any new trick always carried far too many risks.  “I’ll be careful.”  She paused.  “I just can’t guarantee I’ll be able to give you any warning if the Commander calls and I need to leave town.”
    “I understand,” Tonya said, using her own charisma on herself to keep from spitting figurative nails in anger.  “I understand.”
     

How In The Hell Had Gilgamesh Done It?
    Faith Corrigan – Focus #5 – June 1955.  Although known to suffer from occasional bouts of depression and the occasional day where she cannot rouse herself from bed, Focus Corrigan is the oldest of the first Focuses who is still active in the world of Focus politics.  She managed the mentoring program for young Focuses until 1968.  “Young Focuses should be thankful for the risks we took to keep us all out of the hands of the doctors and bureaucrats, and should listen closely to our advice and comments on the proper way to run a household.”
    “Lives of the Focuses”
     
    Carol Hancock: December 10, 1972
    What the fuck?
    Figures something like this would show up while Gilgamesh and I were making love, Major Transform style, and while Gilgamesh was using my Monster talisman as a sex toy in our lovemaking.
    Given where the toy was now, this was most embarrassing.
    Gilgamesh froze as well.
    “Normally Monsters don’t drive cars ,” I said.  I didn’t know yet the full potential of my carved bone Monster talisman, awakened three days ago by a crazy apparition of a dead Crow shaman in the Pheromone Flow, but I already knew, when in contact with my body, it enhanced my metasense range as far as metasensing Monsters was concerned.  I metasensed our car-driving Monster at two miles.
    “She’s not a Monster,” Gilgamesh said.  Focused on his metasense, his face turned vacant, his eyes seeing nothing.
    “She?”
    “An Arm, and not one I recognize, wearing a Monster skin cape.”
    “Business, then.  I need to get cleaned up.”
    Gilgamesh did the manly honors and retrieved the Monster talisman without a word.  He joined me in my quick shower, helping me soap myself up.  Teasing me.  Nasty man.  “I’m going with you, Carol.  Remember Sinclair’s story?”
    The one where Chevalier lured Sinclair out of his household and shut down his metasense with a senior Crow trick, nearly leading to his death.  I opened my mouth to object, but Gilgamesh pulled on my tag and I cut short my