For today, I'm trying to get ahead with the week's movie stuff, so here's another installment of Sidekick Carl. I decided to go with a little bit of a satirical angle; whether I really needed to say that is going to be a good indicator if it's working. No other cross links this time, but the other chapters should come up with labels/ tags.
The truck literally roared down the road. The sound of the engine did not quite drown out the staccato rhythm of helicopter blades, still out of sight but growing nearer. “We need to go faster,” the passenger said to the driver.
“No,” the driver said. “That will attract more attention. We need to get out of sight, like we planned.” He made a sharp turn that put them on course toward a tunnel ahead.
“They’re going to expect
this,” the passenger said as they entered the tunnel. “If the copters don’t see
us, then they’ll send ground units to seal the tunnel.”
“They probably already have,” the driver said. He braked sharply enough to turn the truck sideways. “But they’re only going to seal one end…”
A minute later, an explosion resounded through the hills. A few minutes after that, a pickup truck with the markings of a maintenance vehicle came out of the tunnel. Two cylindrical objects were tied down in the bed, covered in a tarp. “See, I keep telling you,” the driver said. “People only prepare for what they expect. All you have to do to get away is do what they don’t expect.”
And the Toxo Warriors drove away into the night.
***
From a distance, the Nine Foot Woman’s motorhome looked like a toy. Everything about it looked out of proportion to the rest; the wheels too big, the cab too tall, the body almost square except for a roof extension. It was only on approach that it became clear that the body was not a truck but a midsized bus on 4 ½ foot wheels, and the vaguely nautical superstructure was the upper third of a camper van. And it all still looked too small next to the woman waiting on a covered deck that unfolded from the right side.
“I’m glad you made it,” she said to Carl as he approached. Her voice sounded deeper, with a subtle warble. Only then did he see that there were two other women with her, one of normal height and the other just under 7 feet. He tensed when Audrey stepped into view. “Did you bring dinner, or do you want me to cook?” He mutely held up a container of coleslaw and a bag with two veggie burgers.
They entered the RV through a hollowed out secondary deck at the rear, between what proved to be the bathroom and a tiny laundry room. Beyond that was the main living area, consisting of a kitchen on one side and an L-shaped dinette on the other, with a skylight overhead where the original roof of the salvaged camper van raised like the cover of a half-open book. At the end, there was a door to the cab, and over that, an attic-like extension that looked designed for a bed, instead given over to storage cabinets, drawers and a book shelf. Dana promptly stretched out on the long leg of the dinette, her back cushioned against the seat back. The remaining space easily held Carl and the other two women, whom Dana introduced as her assistant and physical therapist, while Audrey perched at Dana’s feet.
“I read one of your books,” Carl said in answer to the unasked question. “I remembered you wrote you were a vegetarian. I am too, more or less.”
He then reached up and fingered a sort of gasket where the neck piece of his suit met his helmet. There was a rubbery snap, followed by a hiss. Dana and her companions watched intently as he removed the bullet-like helmet. The neck piece slid down, revealing a translucent material beneath. More of the same stuff was beneath his helmet; he pushed it back like a hood, revealing pale pink flesh beneath. “Oh, my,” Dana said, reaching out to touch his cheek. “You look… good.”
His face was indeed pleasant enough. His chin and cheeks were well-defined but not prominent, his nose tall and thin. The skin was uniformly smooth, without any hint of blemishes. There was even short, slightly curly hair on his scalp. Dana ran her fingers through it, then stroked his cheek again. She promptly withdrew her hand. “What is it?” she asked succinctly.
“It’s real, more or less,” Carl said. “The cells are cloned from my original skin. They really don’t know exactly how. You didn’t ask, before.”
“I didn’t need to,” Dana said. “I read your book, too.” There was another snap as he removed his glove, then the other. His left hand had flesh as smooth and pink as his face. The right was partly shrouded in the transparent plastic, with crystalline digits extending as if from a fingerless glove. Their hands brushed as if by chance, and Dana pressed their palms together. Hers was just a little smaller than his whole hand. She smiled, with a sidelong glance at her assistant. Then she reached for the bag with the burgers. “Why don’t we eat?”
They settled down to their meal; the other two insisted they had already eaten. Audrey freely ate from a bucket of chicken. “I sent my mates with the kits to the fair,” she said. She pointed out the window to a lighted fairground in the adjacent parking lot, dominated by a Ferris wheel. “I ran into Dana, and she invited me over.”
As they ate, Dana freely conversed about her work and her two companions. “I’m a board member of the National Tall People Association,” she said. “Anna is another member, and Jenny is paid staff. She does wonders for my back.”
Carl nodded to her shortest companion. “I’m a licensed therapist myself,” he said. He raised his right hand. “I have a few enhancements that give me an edge. Still just a sideline, really.”
Dana smiled. “We have a fund set up to pay for medical care for our members, plus home renovations, scholarships, living expenses. For members who choose a public life, in movies, sports, and so forth, we provide agent services, in exchange for a percentage of the proceeds and a final say in any media appearances. All we really require in return is that our members pay a base fee, and adhere to a code of conduct.”
“I see,” Carl said. “Sounds about the same as what Audrey and I get from the Superhumans Fund. Say, does anyone, you know, date people they meet through the Association?”
“We discourage it,” Dana said, with a casualness that Carl immediately decided was evasion. “Our motto is for tall people to live their lives in the rest of society, not to withdraw into each other’s company.” Carl nodded, and didn’t press any further.
Right about then, Audrey came back into the conversation. Soon, she was retelling the tale of their first encounter, yawning and panting when she reached a part she found exciting or amusing. Carl became visibly uncomfortable as she built up to the ending. “So Constructor is smashing the tissue generation tanks, all six of them, and meanwhile, my two biggest drones are still trying to keep Carl down,” she said. “I know the game is up, so the only thing left to do is make my way out. The trouble is, Carl manages to shake of an axe in his back and step right between me and the nearest bolt hole. So you know what I did?” The women, who had been laughing, fell silent. Audrey finished, “I jumped right at him and bit him in the crotch.”
The silence just dragged
on. It was Jenny who ventured to ask, “So what… what happened?”
Audrey just purred. “Now that,” she said, “is something a lady and a gentleman keep between themselves.” As she spoke, her curled lip revealed a fang whose tip had been replaced with a metal cap.
“So,” Dana said, “here’s the thing. I like you, and I’m sure you’re into me, but what really matters to me is what other people think. So, I brought you here to meet my friends, and I found Audrey, since she knows you. Now that we’ve all spent time together, what do the rest of you think?”
Anna folded her hands. “You know how I feel about relationships,” she said. “Still… I think he’s right for you.”
Jenny frowned. “I’d rather not give relationship advice,” she said. “But… I’ve never seen you take to a guy like this. I won’t be the one to say it can’t work.” Her gaze stayed on Carl’s hands.
Audrey’s lip curled in a subtle smile. “Carl and I haven’t exactly been friends, but I’ve known him as long as anyone who’s still around,” she said. “I’d say you have… potential.”
Carl shifted in discomfort. ”Hold on,” he said. I’m flattered, and I definitely want to see where things go, but… did you really need all these people to say we could date?”
Dana took his hand. His
whole hand was a little longer than his palm. “Actually,” she said, “I was
thinking more like… engaged.”
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