Fiction: The Adventures of Sidekick Carl, Part 8

 Went a bit longer without another installment of Sidekick Carl, had this already mostly done. For links, here's the previous installment and first chapter.

It was past dark as the yellow maintenance truck came to a halt. Their destination was fenced off but clearly not guarded, consisting of one large building that might have been a factory or warehouse plus several dozen structures that looked like concrete igloos. The two masked occupants stepped out, and another figure came to the edge of the single light. What could be seen of it showed a form that was bipedal, but only marginally humanoid. Its torso and upper limbs were much too robust for human proportions, while what appeared to be its head barely rose above its shoulder blades. Two eyes and a pair of teeth gleamed in the midst of the silhouetted. “So, you made it,” the driver said.

“Didn’t want to come,” a rumbling voice answered. Its speech was rough and halting, as if practicing a skill that was unfamiliar or half-forgotten. “Liked the zoo.”

“They were about to find you out,” said the passenger. “They would have anyway, sooner or later. Just be glad you have marketable skills.”

“Well, I’m here,” said the silhouette. “What do you want?”

“We received a communication from our… partner,” said the driver. He held out an envelope. There was an audible tearing. A moment later, the envelope and its contents fluttered to the asphalt.

“Impossible,” the voice said. “Can’t be done. I should know, I tried.”

“So did we,” the driver said. “As you will see, our partner has some new ideas.”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” the shadow answered. It barely stooped to pick up the papers. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You take care of the target,” the driver said. “We can deal with the bigger picture.” The only answer was a sound like enormous, leathery wings.

The Toxo Warriors turned to each other. “That will keep him out of the way for a while,” the driver said. “Now let’s go.” They went to the main building. As they opened the door, a blue-green glow flooded the building.

And as the door closed, a photo came drifting down. The strange light revealed that it was of Sidekick Carl… and the Nine Foot Woman.

***

It was a week and a half into the road trip with Dana, and Carl had already reached a point where much of the time with her passed in quite comfortable silence. As sunset approached, they lay together on a cargo rack at the rear of the bus, with Dana’s head rested on Carl’s chest. Carl had his helmet and gloves off, while Dana was in a pair of cut-off jeans and a jury-rigged haltertop. He casually ran his right hand through her hair. “Have you ever wondered,” she mused, “what it would be like if people stopped fighting each other? Not just no more wars, like they say we have, but no more killing, no more hating, no anger… Do you think we could do that?”

“I think people are used to conflict,” Carl said. “People will always disagree about something, then there will always be someone who uses that as an excuse… Maybe we like it too much.”

Dana shifted to look at him. “Have we disagreed about anything yet?” she said.

“We look at things differently,” Carl said. “We’ve talked about it. Maybe we haven’t changed each other’s minds, but I know being with you makes me look at things differently.”

She nodded. “I feel the same,” she said. “You know, there’s one thing we still haven’t talked about… what it was like, fighting.”

Carl nodded. “I’ve never talked about it, much,” he said. “Neither did Constructor. He taught me most of what I know about fighting. But what about you? I can tell you know how to handle yourself...”

“My family taught me that it was wrong to hurt anyone,” she said, her voice held at a neutral tone. “I was big enough, the other kids usually left me alone anyway. Later on, my parents sent me to self-defense classes, just so I could get better coordinated. It was aikido, all about deflecting attacks and disarming opponents without hurting them. Later on, the Association developed our own curriculum from it. Mostly, it helped me stop breaking things at home.”

“It was like that with Constructor,” Carl said. “He finally rebuilt his house to match his strength, but in public… There’s people with whole collections of things he broke. He was gentle, unless he knew we had to fight.”

Dana shifted. “What was it like? Fighting? How often did you have to…?” The question trailed off.

“It wasn’t like people think,” Carl said. “The show always made it look like we weren’t fighting people, just robots and mutants and things. But really, the only ones who could afford that were Basiliskus and Dr. Hydro. Even they could only field a few dozen who could really fight. With the rest, the Raven, the damn Toxo Warriors or even Audrey, the help was mostly human even if they weren’t.”

“What about Goliath?” Dana pressed.

Carl shrugged. “He wasn’t a big deal,” he said. “We only fought him twice. The second time, when the Raven took over the office where those two from the Agency were, he was in a weird mech suit. But we could tell he didn’t want to do it, and he just wasn’t that good a fighter. It was the others, not just the Raven’s goons but most of the guys we fought... just goons in it for the money, not even because they needed it but because it was the only thing they believed in. Constructor always tried to give them a chance, but usually, it did even less good than trying to talk to the mutants or Dr. Hydro’s crazy bots. They would at least quit if we took out whoever was paying them fast, but if not…” He trailed off himself.

Dana rolled onto her stomach to look directly into his eyes. “Do you ever miss it?” she said.

“I suppose… I miss the people I used to work with,” he said. “But most of them are already retired, or just… gone. At this point, there’s probably more of the people I fought left than the people who fought with me.”

Dana nodded. After a moment, she said, “You know, Goliath and I were involved, for a while.” Carl showed no surprise. “You could say we were physical, too, but we never made love. It was Association rules, a few Tall People had tried to have children with each other before, and we couldn’t have it happen again. He still wanted to get married, but it couldn’t happen. He was hurt from when you and Constructor fought him, but that mostly just sped up the inevitable. He needed the Association’s money to pay for therapy and medications, and the board warned us we were both cut off if it happened. The thing is… that wasn’t why I said no. I just knew he wasn’t right for me, about as soon as I knew you were. I just didn’t trust myself enough to tell him. Now I do.” She pressed her face to Carl’s chest. Then, after a moment, she sat up, smiling.

Carl followed her wordlessly down a ladder on the side of the deck at the rear of the bus. When they reached the ground, Dana took down a bike that hung from the rear railing. It had apparently begun life as a standard motorcycle, but the seat and handlebars were modified so heavily that the proportions looked like a scooter. She gazed into Carl’s eyes. “Tell me,” she said, “do you think I was wrong, about us belonging together?”

He shook his head. “I won’t say you’re right,” he said guardedly, “but you didn’t make a mistake.” Even as he spoke, he knew that the woman before him would be his wife.

“Good,” she said as she strapped on her helmet. “Now, let’s ride.” She gave her ululating cry as the bike roared off into the early dusk.

 

And as the roar of the engine faded, the entire bus went briefly dark in the shadow of a winged form overhead.