The Elevator

He had hidden the device on an actual elevator. Typical Von Schaffer: devious, dangerous, immature. Still, I couldn't get mad with him. Not with the device's EM field rearranging my thought processes away from earthly concerns like revenge and violence.

I didn't love everybody, but felt a benevolent concern that was to love as an sphere was to a circle, as a moment was to time. I understood. There was no need to do anything at all. No life to defend.

Then nirvana-associated neurochemical patterns activated my implanted buddha failsafe, pumping by body with adrenaline, sexual hormones, and grounders.

I fell to where I had been, and then I fell even lower.

When the would-be killers opened the door I was ready for them.

.finis.