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“I’msorry,”Andisaid quickly. “Iwasn’t trying to snoop—honestly.Iwas feeling hungry andIwas looking for the rest of those cookies they served for dessert atThirdMeal.ThenIopened the door and heard your husband talking and—”
“Andnaturally you were curious since no man on the planet is supposed to have the wits left to remember his own name—let alone carry on a conversation,”GoodieBo-long remarked, nodding. “Yes, of course—Iunderstand.”
“Butwhy is your husband not aManimal?”Andiasked. “Didyou really find an antidote?”
“Mydear,Icreated the antidote toManimalismwhenIcreated the disease itself,”GoodieBo-long said. “Thoughit’s not so much a disease as a syndrome.Doyou remember the first night you were here,Iwas telling you that my husband was working with an organism which had properties of mind control?”
Andihad been fairly drunk during that first conversation, but she thought she remembered.Shealso remembered thinking it was important.Butthen she’d forgotten about it the next day—probably because she’d been drunk at the time and also she was dealing withCadeand his emerging sexual appetites.
“Yes,” she said and added, “Flow-da says some people thinkManimalismis caused by a kind of parasite.”
“Nota parasite—aspoor,”GoodieBo-long told her. “Derivedfrom a type of fungus that grows on theBoom-boom plant, in fact.Myhusband was looking for a way to eradicate it, since it’s harmful to the plant, but instead he found that theMagroagaricustrisporusfungushas somefascinatingproperties which work very differently on males and females.”
Dr.Bo-long cursed and gripped the bars of his cage.
“Ishould have destroyed my research!Inever should have left it lying around for you to read!”
“Now, now sweetheart—don’t be too hard on yourself.”GoodieBo-long gave him a poison-sweet smile. “Youdidn’t thinkIwasintelligentenough to comprehend your precious data and research—so of course you had no reason tohideit from me.”
“Ishould’ve known,”Dr.Bo-long growled hoarsely. “Shouldhave known what a poisonous bitch you’d turn out to be!”
GoodieBo-long turned her smile onAndi.
“Ilet him talk to me like that because it gives me pleasure to know he’s theonlyman on the planet who’s evencapableof talking anymore.”
“Buthow do the spoors work?”Andiasked, fascinated despite herself.
“Thenaturally occurring unaltered ones only work on certain kinds of insects,”GoodieBo-long explained. “Butthe lab-altered spoors whichIdeveloped, ah…now those are a different story.”Shepicked up a stoppered test tube filled with what looked like pale pink dust and handed it toAndi. “Don’topen that, my dear, unless you wish to inhale a fatal dose,” she remarked. “Avery little goes a long way, you know.”
Andihandled the test tube carefully, noting that even with a cork in the glass tube, it smelled strongly of fresh strawberries.Thismust be the source ofTheScent, she thought.
“Andyou say it affects the brains of males and females differently?” she asked. “Howso?”
“I’mhappy to explain—I’vebeen waiting to tell someone about my work for simplyages, my dear!”GoodieBo-long said brightly. “Yousee, the alteredMagroagaricustrisporus,when inhaled, immediately crosses the blood-brain barrier.Inthe male brain, the spoors grow tendrils in the speech and comprehension centers of the brain, hindering any higher thinking and reducing the male to his most basic and primitive state.”
“Sothat’s why all men goManimalthe minute they breathe inTheScent!”Andisaid.
“Correct—theMagroagaricustrisporusis extremely fast acting.”GoodieBo-long nodded. “Now, in the female brain, it’s quite the opposite.Thespoors actuallyenhancecritical thinking and executive function!Breathingin theMagroagaricustrisporushas made anyone with a vagina considerablysmarter.Notthat you’d know it, talking to thoseNewOrderidiots,” she added, half to herself.
“Arethose the only changes theMagroagaricustrisporusspoors have?”Andiasked suspiciously—it seemed to her thatGoodieBo-long was leaving something out.
“Oh, no, my dear!” her hostess said. “No—the spoors also enhance the sex drive of both males and females.Yousee, whenIwas tinkering around with theMagroagaricustrisporusin my husband’s lab,Iasked myself—whatexactlydoIwant out of life.Theanswer?Whysimple—Iwanted three things: to have control of my own destiny, to punish my boring, irritating husband and every high-handed man that had ever belittled me, and to have as much sex asIwanted.”Shegave an elegant shrug. “Andit just so happens thatIgot everythingIwished for.”
“Youbitch!”Dr.Bo-long growled again.
GoodieBo-long ignored him.
“Doyou see how elegant it is?Everyman who’s ever put me down, slighted or belittled me is locked in a cage in my playroom.Wellall except for my dear husband here,” she added, smiling. “Andevery young, handsome manI’veever wanted is mine for the taking.Ikeep them as a kind ofManimalharem, you know—that wayIcan have any of them any timeIwant.”
“Includingyour own stepson, you sick bitch!”Dr.Bo-long growled, looking atGobi, who was nosing underGoodieBo-long’s skirt again.
Shesmirked at him.
“Ifyou’re trying to make me angry enough to stop giving you the antidote, you can forget it, sweetheart.Ienjoy the look of agony on your face when dearGobimounts mefartoo much for that!”
Whichbrought them back around to the antidote,Andithought.
“Theantidote,” she said. “Whatdoes it do—how does it work?Doesit kill the roots the spoors put down in a person’s brain?”
