Free The Code of Happiness by David J. Margolis Page A

to do—other than work for
Blaze?”
    The out of context reference is a bulging red
flag.
    “You know him?”
    “We've met,” says Ray, “He'll recycle your old life
into your new.”
    “Don't you do the same thing?”
    Jamie's sharp today, the heightened sense of fear,
his world unravelling, giving him the edge he lacks on other
days.
    “Excess is a lie,” says Ray.
    Jamie's confused.
    “Excess is a lie. A little thing I have. If you say
it fast enough. X X LI. Excess is a lie.”
    “Well,” says Jamie, “He pays in excess.”
    “Good to know. If I need a job.”
     
    The pod of thoughts, dreams, and fantasies. Jamie's
back again. Going home was his initial preference but Ray and Po
convinced him, or played on his paranoia of being watched by the
Feds. Whatever they did, it worked. He would spend the night with a
cabinet of new- age books. One of the Source Foundations critics
mocked them as yet another form of bastardized Buddhism, taking all
the easy-to-get happiness Westerners wanted by clearing a path
through anything remotely challenging with a mile-wide bulldozer.
As bastardized as it may have been, they certainly got the bed
right. The strains and worries of the day melt away as he lies
down, his body rushing to sleep. Morning comes too soon.
     
    He can't believe he's doing this. Jamie's dressed in
a white jump suit. Ray holds a visor and lectures similar
instructions prior to Jamie's first encounter in the ionizer before
releasing the headgear into Jamie's possession. He fusses; making
sure it's strapped tight. Po races past them with a covered blue
bucket, and Ray gives her the go ahead to pour the contents into
the far corner of the ionizer. Jamie's ready. As he steps inside to
face and destroy his monster, Ray tugs at his arm.
    “Remember, it's more about who you are.”
    The tug bothers Jamie. He's felt that buzz of energy
before and there's no time to ponder as bright lights blind him.
Inside the ionizer he's clueless to the role of Ray and Po outside.
Maybe he should have asked. For someone who was neurotic he was
capable of wild decisions, or just not asking the obvious. The
visor adjusts, allowing him to see, and he's glad it does. Buzzing
high voltage electrifies the air as the yellow slime forms a blob
then rises several feet in the air reshaping itself into an ogre.
Hair sprouts all over its body secreting translucent goo. Jamie
waits to see if this image of himself has some form of
consciousness. It's alive but its sight is lacking as it bangs into
the walls slopping sticky goo here and there. Jamie's fascinated by
this birth. Each movement and obstacle brings a new realization to
the ogre. And with each slip and crash the ogre's annoyance
increases. Jamie senses his frustration of not getting something
right, the thrashing in the blind. He also knows the collective
annoyance is going to be directed at him sooner or later. It's
Demon Keepers really. A couple of catfish bombs would give him a
good idea of how difficult an opponent the ogre will be. He delays
as long as possible wanting to give the ogre some sense of life, a
code of honor in his gaming world. As the ogre struggles toward
him, Jamie unleashes the bombs. To the ogre's horror they stick in
his hair enraging his inner beast. The bombs take a couple of
seconds to explode, and do no more than rock him back. The ogre
looks at the two balls of fire on his body and wipes them out
leaving two black patches. It appears a mundane attempt to do him
harm, not a game Jamie should play. The ogre fixes his eyes on him,
sight improving by the second. He stomps to his own beat, a war
dance to intimidate and charges the little human in front of him.
Jamie slides between the ogre's legs, and with massive machine guns
attached to each arm, fires incessantly. Hundreds of bullets spew
forth every few seconds. The sight is to behold. All the bullets
have stuck to the ogre's hair like bling. The ogre shakes himself,
the bullets, thousands of them, a