It's been up in the air if I was even going to blog this week. Here's what I have, which is even more Chelsea! Once again, the table of contents is at the end.
It was a day before their anniversary when they came before the judge. Shad finally sat with Chelsea before the judge. She looked over to the doctor, who had long since quit the department. He merely scowled. She felt a chill when she saw the old woman who led the family, staring ahead without expression. “We find that the concerns raised in the original protective order have been resolved,” a panelist told the judge. “We further grant both Parties a Class 4 protective order against Lynn O’Connell Feaghan.” That made the old woman wince.
They spent the night at
Shad’s apartment in Aster Plaza. It was a relatively large unit on the 50th
floor of the west tower, in the middle of a curve that swept to either side. It
turned out that Diane and Frank had been keeping it occupied. The four of them
spent the time packing Shad’s things, mainly his stop-motion models and tools.
In the midst of it, Chelsea said to Diane, “I thought you were separated.”
“We are,” Diane said. “You’re the one whose husband is mental. You’re mental. Shut up.”
It was into the night
when they finished. Diane and Frank unapologetically took the main bedroom.
Chelsea and Shad set themselves up on the dinette. “Listen, Bluebell,” Shad said,
“why don’t we just, you know, take it easy tonight? Talk, maybe?”
“We can skip the talking
if it comes to that,” Chelsea said as they slid under the sheets. “It wouldn’t
be the same, with Diane in the other room; best friends and all…”
“We used to hear things in
the module,” Shad mused. “And we were all in on Kloe’s sessions…”
“That was nice, once,”
Chelsea said. “Not here, let’s just leave it at that.”
“Hey, I’m not arguing,
just thinking,” Shad said. “Really, I was wondering if the sound-proofing would
work if they do anything…”
“Probably,” Chelsea said
drowsily. “As long as they shut the door…” Her eyes came open as they heard
Diane and then Frank. It sounded like a fight, and it was, after a fashion.
Nevertheless, it became clear that she was giving instructions, loudly and specifically.
“Well,” Shad said. “This is different. I’ve got an idea… sing to me.”
When Diane was silent again, Chelsea sang ballads to Shad as he drifted in half-sleep, in a subdued contralto he had only heard a handful of times. She started with “Angel of the Morning”, then went on to “The First Cut Is The Deepest”. She made her way up to Jefferson Airplane, singing, “I’m so full of love, I could burst apart and start to cry…”
It was then that Shad
opened his eyes. “Bluebell?” he said. “Could you do something for me?”
“Yeah,” she said, just a
little surprised.
He fumbled in his leather tote and came up with a sheaf of papers. “Read this,” he said. Chelsea turned on a tiny pen light. “Try to read like you sing.”
A glance confirmed that it was the narration for a Therapy Division instructional film. “Across every continuum of time and space, every race and civilization has faced the same struggles and strove toward the same achievements,” she read, in a very different voice and tone than she used in conversation. “Faith. Morality. Partnership. Procreation. And with it, the physical and mutually pleasurable act of romantic love…”
“You have a good voice,” he murmured. “Keep reading…” By the time she finished, he was asleep.
She woke him up.
* * *
In the morning, Percy and Hector were waiting at the door. Deve was with them. “Your supervisor here thought you might need help,” Percy said succinctly. “Hector can carry your things. I’ll move your vehicle once it’s loaded. All the two of you need to do is wait at the curb.”
Chelsea gave the law AI the electronic key for her fan. His partner, a giant echidna, carried all their boxes in his two arms. They followed the curving corridor to the end, where it intersected with a cross-passage. There were two sets of elevators, one directly ahead and the other at the end of the side passage. Hector gestured mutely to the left. The echidna took the main elevator, joined by Frank, while the others took the smaller passenger lift in the side passage.
Chelsea gazed out from the flexiglass-lined shaft. She tied to convince herself she had learned to be alert for any threat. To that end, she looked down at a parking structure that filled in the arc created by the aster itself, still far below. “That is funny,” she said out loud. When Shad gave her a curious look, she pointed to a very tiny vehicle tootling toward the entrance. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those before.”
Shad took out a small set
of binoculars. “It’s a Goggomobile,” he said. “I’ve seen them here and there.
It was built in Ancient Europe. Here, it’s only caught on with small non-humanoids.”
Deve peered down. “Yes,”
he said. “I’ve seen a few myself. There aren’t many of them.” As he spoke, he
gave his wrist organizer a single tap.
* * *
Percy was backing Chelsea’s Fiat into a loading area on the west end of the Aster when his own visor chimed. He waved to a non-descript individual standing beside a City van. “Something came up,” he said. “Wait here for Hector.”
Chelsea and her companions emerged at the far end of a shopping plaza that filled out the bottom floors of the center. A stern, non-descripte officer was waiting for them, in fact identical to the one waiting beside her van. On one side, a couple small but very high-end shops occupied the corner. On the other side was an open market floor, loosely divided into bookend shops, booths, kiosks and a dining area just inside an entryway in the middle. The companions took a table by the entrance. The officer took a seat a few meters away. Deve remained in the midst of a display of para-Asiatic statues nearby, so still that several customers paused to look for a price tag. Chelsea relaxed, but Shad only grew more tense. Diane looked between them. “Were you really expecting trouble?” she said.
“I honestly don’t know,” Chelsea
said. Shad just shook his head.
* * *
The car looked like a toy, a stylized, almost crude imitation of what a vehicle should be. Its body was white and boxy, less than 3 meters long and barely 1.3 meters tall. The front was large enough for a hood, but there was no grill between the round headlights. At the rear, there was only a suggestion of a compartment for the engine. In any event, there was no sound but a thin hum as it circled the roof of the parking structure a second time. It circled around once more before backing into an empty space two down from a stairwell.
That was when Percy emerged from the stairs. “You know,” he said, “there’s a point where a small car stands out as much as a big one.” He unlimbered a fat, short tube that looked like a rocket launcher. “I may be a lousy shot, but it takes work to miss with this. Come on out, and we can talk.”
Though the windows were untinted, little could be seen of the interior or the occupant beyond a hunched figure with a ten-gallon hat and some kind of high-collared coat. The door swung open on a rear hinge, only to strike a huge and ugly car that protruded well over the line. The figure that emerged was stocky and short. The trench coat came to his ankles, while the comical hat still barely brushed the top of the doorframe. But as he squeezed through the half-opened door, he seemed to twist unnaturally, and then he changed. Legs, arms, torso and even the head lengthened and stretched unnaturally, while the coat seemed to shrink. In a matter of a moment, a grotesquely thin humanoid well over 2 meters tall stood beside a car that did not even reach as high as his hips.
Percy looked up with no
sign of surprise. A bandana covered the figure’s face. “Skinny McCoy,” he said.
“You know the drill, we do it the easy way or the hard way.”
“Dis is notta your fight,”
Skinny answered. “Go-a home.”
“You threatened an employee of the City,” Percy said. He eyed a strangely shaped holster at the assassin’s hip, and a boxy leather case more than half a meter long under his left arm. “You know I can’t walk away.”
“Den you die-a today, Simamons,” Skinny hissed. In a fraction of a millisecond, he drew a weapon that combined an archaic pistol with a huge blade and a tiny computerized sight. A pull of the trigger launched a tiny rocket from the 14 mm muzzle. In the same instant, Percy launched a rapidly expanding net that contracted again as it enveloped the wraith-like target. He twisted as the slug struck the breastplate of his ballistic vest, its engine still spewing white smoke. He got one glimpse of an impossibly small globe hurtling right over the guardrail.
Percy dropped the tube
and hastily removed his vest. He flung it aside, just before a blast tore a
fist-sized hole in the backing plate. He raced to the rail without giving it
further attention. He peered over the railing. Directly below was a bed of
ornamental cactus, now badly flattened. Two more officers were already
converging. One of them held up the remnants of the net, slashed to pieces. By
then, Percy had turned away. “Frink of a frink,” he said. “All officers,
execute lockdown!”
* * *
Frank, Hector and the officer who identified himself as Hexley quickly loaded the boxes. They had piled in, with the 100 kg echidna filling the back seat, when the alarm sounded. Frank turned to the human officer. “What are your people doing?” he said.
“They will blockade through traffic on the aster,” Hexley said. “Most likely, the interior and exterior gates in the shopping plaza will lock automatically. Our agents will move in from the sides and secure the area section by section.”
“Yeah?” Frank said. “Then
what if the bad guys are already in there with them?”
“Then my brother will
take care of them,” Hexley said.
* * *
As time dragged on,
Chelsea became more aware of the activity around her. There was a maintenance
AI taking care of an out-of-order automated kiosk, an older model that had
tried too hard to look human. A huge creature usually known only as a Woolie
pushed a cargo pallet. A helmeted figure rode by on a motorized unicycle that
wasn’t supposed to be used indoors, but was rarely challenged. Outside, there
was a honk as a Dodge A108 cargo van did a U-turn. “I don’t like this,” she
said. Shad put a hand on her shoulder.
“What are you gonna do?”
Diane said. She looked at Chelsea, then put her head in her hands. “Dear Logos,
I’m sorry…”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Shad said. “We aren’t going to judge anybody else…” He and Chelsea kissed.
Suddenly, there was a chime that Chelsea knew was the same as a red alert klaxon for the police and city personnel. “This is a notice that security protocols are in effect,” a soft, feminine voice said. “There is no reason to be alarmed. Please remain where you are and wait for further instructions. There is no reason to be alarmed…”
Chelsea looked toward their escort. He was still seated, muttering into his wrist organizer. She turned the other way, and saw only an idling van. She glanced across the marked area, and saw that the AI had risen to its feet, holding a pry bar. Then she turned her head at the whine of a motor. She saw the rider on the unicycle on the far side of a central aisle, whom she now saw wore a helmet that concealed face and features, though she pegged it as a male. He seemed to return her gaze as he slowed… and then the first shots rang out.
Hexley drew in a moment. Shad
was even faster, knocking Chelsea to the floor. Something whizzed overhead and
hit the window, where her eyes were already fixed on a spiderweb where a slug
had hit heavy flexiglass. Then she looked up and saw Deve, already standing
over at least two wounded or stunned miscreants, brandishing at least one and
sometimes two or three blades from each of his four hands. As he reversed his
upper and lower arms, a third pair appeared above them both. From below came a
fourth and then a fifth appeared. From every single one sprouted still more blades,
accompanied by a now-familiar sound like the crack of a metal bat. A blue-white
light like the flicker of distant lightning flashed in his eyes as he spoke. “I
am many, yet we are one!” he said, with a voice that seemed doubled. “Behold, I
am revealed Death, the Destroyer of Worlds!”
Part II: The parking violation!
Part III: Capsule hotel destruction!
Part IV: The Kelsiraptor, and Harryhausen monster bureaucrat!
Part V: The restraining order!
Part VII: The trial, part 2, with the King Kong Moral Contraband film!
Part XI: The Arcostate Zoo, plus Spike's Southside Motorcycle Gang!
No comments:
Post a Comment