Less than a half hour later, she'd left me to the cool purring comfort of my vacuum tube. There had been no spark -- no offer of even a few tugs on the Center to help a brother out. It was for the better -- not only was she crazy batshit but also very sincere. Added to that, she'd had both of her breasts removed and, through some unholy curse, had never fully grown a set of hips.

Or that silver flicker dress was the worst choice she could've made to accentuate her figure.

"Faith."

I toss the word over and over in my head. Her mouth -- she did have a pretty round red mouth -- formed the words. Her thick lower lip drew in, touched the white front teeth, to start the "f". Faith.

That had started an argument. I was already pissed and that didn't help.

"No more games."

"That's what I've lost. That's what you are getting hired to find for me."

"Okay fine, " you crazy bitch, "describe this faith that I'm looking for. When was it last seen? In the company of who? What were its... or is yours a her?... Do you have any money?"

"Your very empty account should show a pending transfer. Go ahead and look."

I walked back around the black plastic desk and tapped the control pad. "Funds", I said, and the screen came alive. There were a lot of zeroes attached to a one there in the pending column.

"When will that drop into my account?"

"When you find my Faith."

"Fuck that. You're wasting my time."

"I'll pay you ten thousand a week plus expenses until you find her."

I straightened up at my desk -- my back not my dick -- and looked at her. The smug smile was gone from her face. She looked old. Dark shadows hid her big eyes. Her pouty lips were deflated and stretched long. Whatever drug she took propelling her in here was wearing off too. Her hands shook. She clasped them together and pulled them close to her body, to the silver shimmering metallic cloth of her dress.

"Done. We'll get on that. We'll have your faith boxed up and waiting for you any day now. Keep checking the post," I said walking towards her, hand out for a shake or to escort her to the door -- whichever.

She stood and fugued. Time stopped all around her as she flipped on a thousand mile stare. I checked the wall where she looked. Nothing. Then her eyes rolled back into her head.

Don't die, thought I counting zeroes in my head and moving towards her.

Her body shook for a moment, a shudder starting at the top and ending with a funny kick out of her right leg.

"I have to go," she said, whispering, eyes locked down to the ground, hands reaching out wildly for the coat she draped over a cheap plastic lawn chair on the other side of my desk.

"Let me help..."

A swinging hand dissipated my desire to help at all. The coat was picked up and not put on, and heavy heals, thick ankles I saw now, headed for the alternate entrance, still marked private, still glowing blue from the lumes outside. There was a glittering at her turn coming from her neck. A cross, platinum silver something and bejeweled, caught the light as it swung high into the air towards salvation before dropping back down to the unholy earth and soiled impure body.

"The information you'll need will be sent as soon as I get home," she said as she opened the door. It creaked. I moved towards her. Her smell caught my nostrils. It wasn't entirely pleasant. She was sweating out something sour and thick. There was a thin layer of perfume over that, more herbal than anything, like sandalwood.

She was out the door. I was still sniffing and making my icky-face.

"Wait!" I said.

She didn't.

I couldn't pass out the door after her -- at least not yet. Not without the proper preparations. At the threshold, I yelled into the short blue lumed hallway, my own hand on the wooden dusty doorframe turned ghastly by the light. Shit. She was gone.

Back inside, I locked the door, once, twice, thrice click went the deadbolts. Why wasn't it locked in the first place? I couldn't remember the last time I went in or out that way. Or out at all.

The zeroes came back into my head.

I went back to my desk to look at the number again. Whoa -- that really was a lot of fucking zeroes. 10k was dropped into my account as I watched the screen. I double checked. Triple checked.

Holy jesus shitmonkey. The nut-job had money at least.

To celebrate I hooked up the vacuum tube again and pondered the Center of my Universe, Omphallos.

For a half an hour after, I sat waiting for the promised information to arrive. What could she possibly give me that would help?

Every four minutes, I'd check my account to see if the money was still there.

It was.

At minute thirty three, a small notice popped up saying that I had received an archive from one Emeresda Zagliogyi labeled simply "background on faith".

My first thought on seeing the notice -- what kind of fucking name is that?