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The door to the control booth beeped and opened smoothly.He slowed down when he noticed the glow of light from the control workstation. He was sure he’d turned it off last night. Jenkins quickly looked around for any other disturbances. His chair was shoved aside instead of tucked in neatly under the desk. Someone had been in here.He sat down carefully, his new bulk overfilling the seat, and looked at the screen, not wanting to touch anything. Two windows were up. One was a command window, the type he’d use to activate the various modes and settings in the subject. The other was a command history showing everything he’d typed in over the past day. He looked back at the command window, at the last command someone else had typed in.He reached over to the wall and pressed the button that switched the one-way mirror from opaque to transparent. Jenkins felt his stomach drop as the dim light illuminated a scene of horror rendered in bright slashes of blood. Trying to breathe deeply and not. Of course, Bob's kisses on her back and shoulders weren't helping, either. Or, depending on one's perspective, they were helping a great deal.The Kitten was done and needed burping. That, however was her father's job when he was home; and he was busy kissing her mother. That spot on the back of her neck meant serious business, and Bob knew it. She turned on her back. "Your daughter needs a burp and a change."Bob got up. He walked out of the room patting The Kitten's back and wearing only a spitcloth. Jeanette, on the other hand, wore a robe to the bathroom and back. The Kitten's changing table and crib, in the dining room, would have to be moved before company came.She lay there listening to the voices from the next room. Bob recited poetry to The Kitten. Her recent growth spurt was leaving her mother rather frazzled. And the phone call and subsequent talk with Bob hadn't helped, either. Jeanette hoped that Bob wasn't in the mood for one of his "games" tonight. Well, he claimed that.
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