The iFactor Read Online Free Page A

to. I can do without them most days.”
“The way you went for your gun today, I'd suggest you take some when on duty. At least for the time being. I'm saying that as your friend and your boss. I vouched for you. If you screw up and hurt someone it'll be my ass.”
“I know. I appreciate all you've done for me.” Matt said. “No one else would have.”
“No one else knew you. You'll come through this and you'll become that sharp-eyed investigator that won the Texas service star.” He took a sip from a clear tumbler that contained a brown fluid that Matt presumed to be brandy. The chief had a fondness for brandy. Perhaps he'd get him a bottle for his birthday.
“So Dallas still bothers you?”
“Only when I think about it. I try not to.”
“It wasn't your fault. Anyone could have snapped in that situation.”
“Tell that to her father. The man was just trying to get them out and he lost his family that day. All I lost were some marbles.”
“He was one of the instigators. It’s sad, but he ignored his duty and that put his own family in the line of fire. It was his fault they died. They needed someone, to blame. You just happened to be on the trigger.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier”
“I have faith in you. You’ll get it together?”
“I’m glad one of us has faith.”
“The shrink in California cleared you for duty. If he hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to hire you.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Before he left Earth, his treatment had progressed to where he could almost stand to think about that dreadful day. Perhaps if he had remained there, he'd have recovered. He needed the work, however, and Ken offered him a job.
Something had happened on the trip from Earth. Something he never told anyone, except his psychiatrist. There was a mishap; he received a short dose of the hyper drug. During the journey, his mind was, to an unknown degree, exposed to the Mind Rip. He should have arrived at Sirius a screamer, but his injured brain rejected the mental burden. It shook him and set him back in his recovery, but he survived. Unfortunately, Matt felt as messed up as he was before he started therapy. The nightmares were growing more persistent. If he had to go through the screening process again, Matt doubted he would pass the tests.
“That's the spirit. So go take your meds and get some sleep. I need you here bright and early.” He downed his beverage. “Good night, Matt.”
“Night, Ken.” The display reverted to the news feed. “Stock in Sirius Teck futures is up for the twenty ninth straight week on news that...” He turned it off. One day, he'd have to buy some of the stock for his retirement. It just didn’t feel like the right time. The personnel director was encouraging him to think more about his future. Every time he tried, he had an overwhelming sense that whatever it held was out of his control.
Matt moved around the apartment, a nightly routine to ease his anxieties enough to allow him to sleep. Double-checked all the locks on the doors, then the windows, ensuring the curtains allowed no visual penetration. A quick examination of the kitchen reassured him that the knives and forks where securely in their drawers. The lights darkened as he exited room.
He brushed his teeth, washed his face and retreated into the bedroom. He undressed, leaving his pants on the end of the bed, fluffed the pillows and turned the bed radio on low for the static. This was an important measure, without the noise of the radio, his ears would pick out the sounds of the neighbors, people walking the halls and at each bump, laugh, or creak he'd be wide-awake again.
Matt accepted the reality of his condition. He was near exhaustion and needed sleep. The doctor gave him different pills for such circumstances. He didn't like them. The drug made him crash hard. He tightened his gut and downed the pill, then crawled into bed and stared at the shadows play across the ceiling as he quietly recited the words to an ancient song his