contemporary – Page 5 – Gillian's Notebook

Lost Culture

aliensnow

The elder’s house was on the side of a mountain at the end of a long dirt road. It had taken me months to find this elder. It wasn’t the only one still around but it was the most accessible to me even if I had to spend several hours of driving on poorly graded roads. Many had died off in the previous fifty years since the crash and others had simply disappeared.

I knocked on the door and waited. The door swung open and the elder alien inside glared at me. Its outer mandibles flared wide with annoyance. A string of hisses and coughs were yelled at me.

“I’m sorry I don’t speak our language,” I said. I tried to angle my mandibles in submission but years of keeping them tightly closed except during eating and speaking made it difficult.

“What do you want?” it said. Its voice was hoarse and choked. One of its eyes dilated as it turned to look at me.

“Were you on the ship?” I watched body language that I only half understood. Should I raise my secondary arms? Should I look away from it? How should I act? I didn’t know. I had been born – hatched – on Earth. My parents – egg nurses – had raised me, like the rest of my generation, to fit into Earth society as much as humans would let us.

“Of course I was on the ship. Anyone older than forty was on the ship.” It raised its secondary arms to its sides.

“Can you tell me what happened?” It closed both sets of its mandibles with a hard click.

“No.” It slammed the door in my face.

I knocked again and waited. After a couple of minutes, I started continuously knocking. The door swung open and the elder alien stepped outside hissing and coughing at me. Its primary arms pistioned forward as it walked right into me forcing me back off its porch. I lost my footing at the edge and fell backwards.

“Please, I just want to talk,” I said. The elder alien stood over me.

“Why?”

“My parents won’t tell me about before the ship crashed. I don’t know our language. We were forced to fit in with the humans but as much as we try we can’t really fit in. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be.”

The elder alien lowered both sets of its arms. Its eyes stared at me. “We didn’t crash. We landed.”

“What?” I asked. It lowered itself into a crouch beside me.

“We came from so far way that by the time we reached earth, humans had become the dominate species. The ship wasn’t made for a return trip. We set down on what we thought was isolated terrain. The humans got to us much faster than we thought they could and that’s when everything started to go wrong.” Its eyelids closed then half opened. “Come inside and we can talk.” The elder stood and extended a primary arm. I grabbed it for support as I got to my feet.

The elder turned and walked back inside its home. I followed, closing the door behind me.

The Giants

giants

They tower over us. Impossible tall but all too real. Up close you have to strain your eyes upward to see anything other than feet and legs. From a distance, you can see the Giants look vaguely human. One head, two arms, two legs, stands upright. But they aren’t human. We aren’t even sure if they’re alive.

They walk. The walk in straight lines from one city to the next. They walk to the center of a city, stop, turn and walk to another city. All the while destroying anything in their path.

We can not stop them. Bullets, bombs, missiles, and even The Bomb(so long Vegas). The government has given up trying. All they can do is limit the loss of life.

I’ve seen two up close. One had skin black like coal, fire for eyes and it stunk of rotten eggs. The other glowed with a faint pale white light and smelt like fermenting fruit.

The city called us a week before it arrived to vacate the apartment. I got everything except the furniture out. My neighbors, whom I had never gotten around to meeting, and I watched it walk through the building, not trying to destroy but unable or unwilling to walk in anything other than a straight line. Like a force of nature with no mind behind it, destroying this house while leaving the one right next to it untouched.

I moved into a house with some friends in the country. They thought it would safer outside of a city. They didn’t take into account the fact the house was between two cities. Eventually one of them would have walked from one to the other. Eventually came sooner rather than later. We didn’t have as much notice as I did the first time. One morning, Jamie looked outside and there it was treading straight for us. We grabbed what we could and then stood back as it clipped the side of the house, not quite destroying it but making it unstable and unlivable. After scavenging through the wreckage, we packed everything left into our cars and headed to the nearest city.

—

The city is devastated. The Giants’ paths can clearly be seen in the wreckage of buildings. The center of the city has been stomped flat where they stop and turn before walking to the next city.

People now homeless are living in the parks. At first, they crowded into shelters but when those filled they had no choice but to find someplace to live. A few bought tents and began roughing it. Soon others followed suit and within a couple of weeks tent cities sprang up in parks. There are laws against camping in the parks but the police turn a blind eye. What else can they do? Arrest several hundred people?

Tents and sleeping bags have become a scarce commodity. It’s almost impossible to find any for sale. Jamie and Alex were avid backpackers and camped out at least once a month before the Giants came so there was no need for us to scrounge around for gear. Besides the one they gave me, they had one older tent that they sold for three times what they had paid for it new.

They also sold the car. I should say we sold the car since Jamie and Alex keeps reminding me that what’s theirs is also mine. It didn’t make sense to keep it unless we were planning on leaving the city. There’s no place any of us want to go and no place is much better off, most are worst off.

J and A’s credit and debit cards are still working for the time being. I wanted to empty my own meager checking account but the bank is refusing to allow large withdraws in excess of forty dollars. I’ve started taking it out forty dollars a day. J and A tell me not to worry about money that they can support me for now. I hope that’s true and worry about the day when it won’t be.

I’ve been looking for a job but with no permanent address and no phone number, it’s been slow going. I have to revisit every place I put an application just in case they want to hire me. No leads yet.

I met a lawyer living a few tents away. He lost almost everything when his apartment building was destroyed. He says he has never felt more at ease. No bills to pay. No rent to pay. No things tying him down. His office has a gym with locker rooms and showers. He keeps most of his clothes there in a locker. He had tried sleeping in his office but when security found out they gave him the boot. With no other choice, he found someone selling a tent and sleeping bag and set up a tent in a park near his firm. Most of the people he lives near are jobless.

I heard that two of the Giants are headed for the same city. I wonder what will happen if they meet.

Five Minute Delivery – Monthly Delivery

teleportericon

“Thank you for calling Fine Minute Delivery. How may we help you?” I recognized the number so I cut my spiel short.
“Hello dear. I have my monthly delivery ready.”

“Yes, ma’am. Same room?”

“Yes. The curtains are blue now.”

“I’ll be there shortly.” I pictured the room. Single bed, small dresser next to the bed, pictures on top of the dresser, a couple of chairs, tv in the corner, and blue curtains. I felt the familiar tug and went.

My client was sitting in her bed hands folded over the blanket. On the chair next to the bed was a bouquet of flowers. I teleported the four feet to the chair and picked up the flowers. My client smiled. I didn’t need to teleport but my client liked seeing me do it.

“Any special requests?”

“No, just work your magic.”

I closed my eyes picturing the grass, open space, regularly spaced rows of stones, the somber atmosphere, the tree right there. And I went. I stood at the end of a grave. The stone was a double wide only half filled out with stone vases on either side. I sat the bouquet down next to the stone and began removing the old flowers.

I teleported home and dropped them in the trashcan outside before teleporting to the cleaning closet for a small hand broom.

“Honey?” I heard my wife shout from the kitchen.

“I’m on a job so I can’t stay,” I said popping out of the closet.

“Mrs. Henderson?” she asked. I nodded. “It’s so sad. She’s all alone.”

“She has kids and grandkids.”

“You said they hardly visit.”

“Well, yeah but I visit her at least once a month.” I paused before continuing, “She wants to meet you actually.”

“Me, why?”

“Well, I got to talking about you last time I did her delivery.”

“And she’s ok with …”

“Lesbians? Yeah, she’s cool. She was more confused by me being trans but she’s cool about that too. I have to get back but I’ll be here for dinner, ok?”

“Ok. Love you.”

“I love you, too.” I gave her a quick kiss on the lips and teleported back to the cemetery.

The caretakers used a leaf blower after cutting the grass but sometimes they didn’t get all the clippings off the stones. I swept Mr. Henderson’s gravestone clean of grass clipping, dirt, leaves, and bits of the old flowers. I opened the bouquet and divided the flowers roughly in half. Some flower arranging later and the stone was looking much better. I took some pictures and teleported back to Mrs. Henderson.

“All done,” I said.

“The nurse in the room jumped in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.” She glanced at the closed door.

Mrs. Henderson smiled and chuckled. “She’s a sneaky one.”

“Are you family?”

“No, just a friend,” I said.

“Well as soon as Joyce swallows this pill, I can leave you to visit.” Mrs. Henderson took the small paper cup from the nurse and upended it into her mouth. She chased the pill with a swallow of water from the glass in the nurse’s other hand.

“Happy?” she asked.

“Very. I’ll be back in a few hours,” the nurse said. She left the room leaving us alone. I sat in a chair by Mrs. Henderson’s bed. She held out a couple of twenties to me. I took them and tucked them away. It was way less than what I charged other people but I was compensated other ways.

“How are you doing today?” I asked.

“Eh, better than some days worse than others. Talk to my doctor if you want more details,” she said.

“That’s good, I guess. I don’t mean to pry.”

“No, no I don’t mind,” she said in a softer voice. “How long can you stay?”

“Just a couple of hours. I promised the wife I’d be home for dinner.”

“So, when are you going to bring her by and introduce her to me, hmm?” She smiled and raised her eyebrows.

“I don’t like teleporting people or animals and it’s kind of a long drive.” Most of the time they make it through fine but every once in a while they aren’t. So, I don’t take the chance unless I have to.

“You teleported that blogger.”

“That was … I was mad about being ambushed.”

“You want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Buffet Before the End of the World

suerheroicon

The convention center parking lot was partly full of cars. Rashida didn’t expect anyone but other Guardians to be here but maybe part of the center was being used as emergency shelter. She was late because still had trouble navigating from the sky. The comets streaking across the red sky had not helped her sense of direction at all. A sign on an easel just inside the main doors pointed her toward one of the side halls. A murmur of voices carried through the doors. Ok, you’re a guardian just like the rest of them. They invited you to this meeting. She pushed through the doors.

Ok, you’re a guardian just like the rest of them. They invited you to this meeting. She pushed through the doors.
Inside was not the meeting she expected. There were other Guardians in the room but they weren’t all gathered around one table talking about strategy or pouring over maps or listening to a briefing about what they would be facing tomorrow. Instead, they were scattered around the room, some sitting at tables others standing talking with civilians. Most of the room was civilians.

Another Guardian entered the room behind her nearly bumping into her. He skirted past her and beelined to the side of the room where she now saw a buffet had been set up. Large aluminum catering pans were interspersed with smaller casserole dishes, pots, and bowls. A Guardian walked along the buffet hand outstretched over the dishes. As her hand passed over a pan or dish, steam could be seen rising from them.

Maybe this was just a preliminary meet-and-greet and afterwards they would gather in another room for the real meeting. In the meantime, it had been several hours since she had eaten so she headed to the buffet to get a plate.

After getting her plate, she looked around the room for an open table. Flashing back to high school, she spotted a table at the edge of the room with no one on it. As she walked toward it, a woman separated from the group she was talking with and stepped in front of her.

“Hail, Rashida of Winters, be well met,” the woman said with a smile. Antonia, one of the oldest Guardians, was speaking to her and apparently knew who she was.

“Hail, Antonia of Atlantis, I am well met,” Rashida said returning the greeting.

“Most fumble that old greeting,” she said with a smile.

“I’ve read up on you.”

“As have I. You have been a credit to the uniform. It has been about a year since you became a Guardian, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t made time before now to speak with you. Are you free next Thursday?”

“I… I don’t think I have any plans.”

“Good, we can spend the day patrolling together and getting to know each other better. I’ll call Ruby and we’ll make it a threesome.”

“Ruby Daniels?”

“Yes, have you met her?”

“No, but I’ve heard of her.” Every Guardian knew Ruby. She was one of the most decorated Guardian still serving. She held the line against the Grattak, stopped the nuclear exchange of ’94, saved countless more lives, and now Rashida was going on patrol with her Thursday. If they made it to Thursday.

“How are you holding up?” Antonia asked placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Fine, just fine,” she said hiding the fear and uncertainty she had been feeling since the sky turned red.

“What is wrong?” she persisted.

“I’m worried about tomorrow.”

“Understandable.”

“Are we having a meeting later?” Rashida asked.

“A meeting?”

“To talk about tomorrow?”

“All the information we have has already been sent out.”

“Then what is all of this?” she asked waving her hand at the room of Guardians and civilians.

“It’s a tradition we have before an apocalyptic event. We are the protectors of this world’s people. We have been given such immense power that we can feel like gods among them. For this reason, it is important to remind ourselves that we are human as well. These people are our neighbors, our friends, and our families. Talk with them, listen to their stories, tell them your stories, and tomorrow keep them in your heart. Remember we fight for them. Now I see another apple pie has been brought out so you will have to excuse me.”

Rashida turned to watch her beeline to the end of the buffet tables where the desserts were laid out. She turned from the empty table she had been heading toward and walked over to one with another Guardian and a few civilians around it.

Time Looping

#fiction #scifi #timetravel

“Hey.”

“Hey. Wait are you- ?”

“Yeah, I’m you or you’re me from about an hour ago.”

“How is this possible?”

“Catch. In about fifty-eight minutes the light on top is going to start blinking. Press the button and then it’ll be your turn to be on this side of the conversation.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This is one of those stable time loop things.”

“Oh, I’m still confused.”

“That’s ok. Just let it sink in and in about thirty minutes you’ll start to feel better. I know I did.”

“You know everything that’s going to happen in the next hour?”

“Yes and no. I know the generalities but it’s only a stable time loop in that you always go back in time and give your past self the time machine. The rest is kind of like jazz. I can say anything I want to say and you can say anything you want to say. We still have free will.”

“What if I got up right now and walked out of the room?”

“Sure you could do that.”

“I could get in my car and drive across the city.”

“Sure could.”

“But you didn’t do any of those things?”

“I did go for a walk right before time was up that’s why I walked into the room. My future self just appeared in the room.”

“We can change things?”

“Maybe. Look we have a theory.”

“Who’s we?”

“Us. Me and my future self and their future self. Each of us tells the next one our thoughts trying to figure out what this time loop means.”

“We’re passing information backwards through time.”

“Yes, exactly. We know what we say changes every time because no one’s memory is perfect. We’re playing telephone with ourselves. We have free will except about pushing the button and passing off the time machine.”

“What happens if I don’t press the button?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe the universe ends. Maybe I cease to exist. As long as we’re in the loop, we can’t know.”

“The loop is cut off from regular time and causality as long as it doesn’t end.”

“Right, that’s the first part. The next part is where did the loop start? It’s possible someone forced us into this loop. If they gave us the machine teleported us back in time and convinced us that we had to continue the loop then after one maybe two loops we just forgot to mention this person. Or maybe we deliberated omitted him to maintain the timeline which is not a thing we now know.”

“The only way to know for sure is to not press the button.”

“Yeah, that’s about where we are in reasoning this out.”

“You get to leave the time loop.”

“Do I? Or am I just overwritten when you go back in time to become me? As long as we keep gong back in time neither of us can leave the loop.”

“I have to choose to not press the button, don’t I?”

“That’s one theory. Just a reminder the universe might explode.”

“Or nothing might happen. Why did you press the button?”

“I wasn’t going to press it. When the light started blinking, I got scared. What if breaking the loop is the wrong thing to do? What if there’s another way?”

“How any loops has the machine been through?”

“There’s no way to tell. It could be five loops or five hundred. That’s the third part of this problem. How much longer do we have before the machine stops working?”

triangle

“Hey.”

“Hey. Wait are you- ?”

“Yeah, I’m you or you’re me from about an hour ago.”

“How is this possible?”

“Catch. In about fifty-eight minutes the light on top is going to start blinking. Press the button and then it’ll be your turn to be on this side of the conversation.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This is one of those stable time loop things.”

“Oh, I’m still confused.”

“That’s ok. Just let it sink in and in about thirty minutes you’ll start to feel better. I know I did.”

“You know everything that’s going to happen in the next hour?”

“What if I got up right now and walked out of the room?”

“Sure you could do that.”

“I could get in my car and drive across the city.”

“Sure could.”

“But you didn’t do any of those things?”

“I did go for a walk right before time was up that’s why I walked into the room. My future self just appeared in the room.”

“We can change things?”

“Maybe. Look we have a theory.”

“Who’s we?”

“Us. Me and my future self and their future self. Each of us tells the next one our thoughts trying to figure out what this time loop means.”

“We’re passing information backwards through time.”

“What happens if I don’t press the button?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe the universe ends. Maybe I cease to exist. As long as we’re in the loop, we can’t know.”

“The loop is cut off from regular time and causality as long as it doesn’t end.”

“The only way to know for sure is to not press the button.”

“Yeah, that’s about where we are in reasoning this out.”

“You get to leave the time loop.”

“Do I? Or am I just overwritten when you go back in time to become me? As long as we keep gong back in time neither of us can leave the loop.”

“I have to choose to not press the button, don’t I?”

“That’s one theory. Just a reminder the universe might explode.”

“Or nothing might happen. Why did you press the button?”

“I wasn’t going to press it. When the light started blinking, I got scared. What if breaking the loop is the wrong thing to do? What if there’s another way?”

“How any loops has the machine been through?”

“There’s no way to tell. It could be five loops or five hundred. That’s the third part of this problem. How much longer do we have before the machine stops working?”

Forget Me

#fiction #contemporaryfantasy #fantasy #memory

I woke up in a McDonald’s booth with no memory of who I was. On the table, there was an empty vial with a handwritten label that said “Forget” and a letter to me from whomever I had been before drinking the vial.

Dear Jane Doe,

That’s not your name it’s just something to call you until you figure that out. I’m sorry I’m doing this to you but there’s no other way. There’s a phone and some money in the purse next to you. Call the contact in the phone; they will set you up with a new identity. Don’t go looking for who you used to be. If you really need to remember, there is an antidote for the forget-me potion in your purse as well. Please give your new life a chance. No one should come looking for you.

Sincerely,

The woman you once were.

Of course, I had heard of forget-me potions but nothing this strong. Most targeted just the memories of a specific person and only within a short time period. Something that could wipe an entire person’s memory of themselves was not something that could be gotten over the counter.

On the bench seat next to me was a purse. Inside was a prepaid phone and several stacks of hundred dollar bills. At least I won’t be hurting for money too soon. What had she done? Already I was thinking of who I had been as another person. The potion must have cost a pretty penny but she still had enough left over to stuff my purse with stacks of bills. What was so horrible about her life that she wanted to forget it all? No one would be coming after me, she said.

In an interior pocket, I found the antidote vial wrapped in a velvet pouch the handwritten label read “Remember”. The liquid inside swirled purple and black with glints of silver popping through. I could undo everything she had done in an instant. But did I want to?

This was my life. Not a fresh start or a new beginning; just my life. I realized I didn’t want a life that I didn’t remember or know anything about. Maybe someday ‘they’ would come for me. Maybe someday I would need to remember. But until then this was going to be my life, not hers.

“Order for Jane,” the woman at the counter called out. I slid out of the booth and walked up to claim my meal.

Dear Jane Doe,

Sincerely,

The woman you once were.

“Order for Jane,” the woman at the counter called out. I slid out of the booth and walked up to claim my meal.

Vikki and the Dwarves Job

Author note: This is an older story that I dug up because I was sick last week. This is technically Chapter Four but stands on its own.

Tales of JOBCo

Vikki and the Dwarves Job

“Thank you and have a good night,” Vikki said handing the last customer of the night her bag of cookies. She turned off the lights in the display cases at Jolly Ole Biscuit Company and put up the closed sign. Everyone in the mall called it “the cookie store” but it was really just a counter with glass display cases and a baking area in the back.

Jesse, her co-worker for the night, was already putting away the unsold cookies. Tonight had been Vikki’s first time working with her. She was just few inches taller than her own 5′ 6″, with brown hair, and a slim build that hid how strong she was. She had been standoffish at first but over the evening she had seemed to warm up to Vikki.

“You’re not what I thought you would be,” Jesse said wiping the counters while Vikki cleaned the soda fountain.

“What did you expect?” Vikki asked.

“Well, I thought you’d be more intimidating.”

“Intimidating? Why would you think that?” Vikki asked.

“Well, I mean, I just thought being what you are… I just assumed that you’d be more… grrr,” Jesse made a snarling face and held her hands up like claws, “You know?”

Did Jesse know she was a…? She couldn’t know. Could she? Vikki faked a smile, “Is this about that mob on Monday?”

“No, well kind of, but you know what forget I said that. I should know better than than to buy into stereotypes.”

“Ok sure.”

Jesse stopped cleaning and walked over to Vikki. She folded and unfolded the towel in her hands as she spoke. “So, I know we just met today and we don’t really know each other very well but,” Jesse took a breath and the sound of rustling leaves, creaking branches and whistling wind came from her mouth.

Vikki stared for a second and then said, “What?”

Jesse once again spoke but this time Vikki heard, “Will you [rustling leaves] through the [snapping twigs] with me and [birds chirping] from harm?”

“I don’t understand what you’re say.”

“Will you walk through the forest with me and keep me from harm?” Jesse said plainly.

Forest? Did she mean the park? Vikki lived on the other side of the park bordering the mall so it wouldn’t be out of her way. “Um, you mean tonight after work?” she asked.

“Yes, tonight.”

“Uh, sure,” Vikki said.

—

After work, Jesse led her in a winding path along the the park trails. Every time they approached the edge of the park, Jesse took the trail back into the park.

“Um, hey, do you know where you’re going?” Vikki asked.

“Yes, it’s just a little bit farther,” Jesse said over her shoulder.

“Ok, it’s just that we’ve been walking around in the park for half an hour and-”

“Here it is,” Jesse said stepping off the paved path onto a dirt one that led into a small grove of trees.

“Wait, where are you going?” Vikki asked Jesse’s rapidly retreating back.

Jesse stopped, turned, and said, “I’m going to the forest. You said you would walk with me.”

“Ok I said that but I thought you just wanted to walk home. Is this going to take long?”

“No time at all,” Jesse said with a smile, “Come on.” She turned around and began walking. Vikki hesitated but she had said she would walk with her, so she followed.

The trees began to grow closer around the path and the underbrush wildly thick. They walked for several minutes, much longer than Vikki thought it would take to walk through the grove she had seen from the paved path.

The path widened, opening up into a small clearing around the gnarliest tree Vikki had seen. The trunk was several feet across, covered in knots and twisted like a rung out rag. Its bare branches were like snakes bursting out and over the clearing. The tree’s bark was dull lifeless gray.

Jesse walked up to the tree and placed her hand on it, “Stand behind me and place your hand over mine. And do not remove it until I tell you to.” Vikki looked at her puzzled. “Come on we don’t have all night,” Jesse said.

Continue reading at the link.

Author note: This is an older story that I dug up because I was sick last week. This is technically Chapter Four but stands on its own.

Tales of JOBCo

Vikki and the Dwarves Job

“You’re not what I thought you would be,” Jesse said wiping the counters while Vikki cleaned the soda fountain.

“What did you expect?” Vikki asked.

“Well, I thought you’d be more intimidating.”

“Intimidating? Why would you think that?” Vikki asked.

“Well, I mean, I just thought being what you are… I just assumed that you’d be more… grrr,” Jesse made a snarling face and held her hands up like claws, “You know?”

Did Jesse know she was a…? She couldn’t know. Could she? Vikki faked a smile, “Is this about that mob on Monday?”

“No, well kind of, but you know what forget I said that. I should know better than than to buy into stereotypes.”

“Ok sure.”

Vikki stared for a second and then said, “What?”

Jesse once again spoke but this time Vikki heard, “Will you [rustling leaves] through the [snapping twigs] with me and [birds chirping] from harm?”

“I don’t understand what you’re say.”

“Will you walk through the forest with me and keep me from harm?” Jesse said plainly.

Forest? Did she mean the park? Vikki lived on the other side of the park bordering the mall so it wouldn’t be out of her way. “Um, you mean tonight after work?” she asked.

“Yes, tonight.”

“Uh, sure,” Vikki said.

—

After work, Jesse led her in a winding path along the the park trails. Every time they approached the edge of the park, Jesse took the trail back into the park.

“Um, hey, do you know where you’re going?” Vikki asked.

“Yes, it’s just a little bit farther,” Jesse said over her shoulder.

“Ok, it’s just that we’ve been walking around in the park for half an hour and-”

“Here it is,” Jesse said stepping off the paved path onto a dirt one that led into a small grove of trees.

“Wait, where are you going?” Vikki asked Jesse’s rapidly retreating back.

Jesse stopped, turned, and said, “I’m going to the forest. You said you would walk with me.”

“Ok I said that but I thought you just wanted to walk home. Is this going to take long?”

“No time at all,” Jesse said with a smile, “Come on.” She turned around and began walking. Vikki hesitated but she had said she would walk with her, so she followed.

Henchmen For Hire

Author note: This story is set in the same world as the Scientist of Death stories.

Most people would be scared shitless if a supervillain walked into their office but for me this was just my three o’clock meeting. His name was Wireframe. According to the application he had submitted he was baseline human in powered armor. These guys are a dime a dozen but at least he had a gimmick in his look. His armor was coated with a zero reflective paint with the edges trimmed with red. It gave the effect of a black hole contained by a 3D wire frame graphic. Thus his name.

I stood as he entered and offered my hand, “Good afternoon, how are you doing today?” He ignored my hand and sat down.

“I’m need to hire a dozen henchmen for a bank job. Can fill this request?” His voice was modulated a little too much and buzzed on certain sounds. I sat down behind my desk.

“Henchpeople,” I said.

“What?” he asked.

“We call our employees henchpeople.

“Your organization is named Henchmen For Hire, is it not?”

“It’s a legacy name. Also we don’t call them bank jobs; they’re heists.”

“Whatever. Can you get me a dozen ‘henchpeople’ or not?”

“Of course we can. Do you require any specialist types?”

“Types?”

“All our henchpeople are trained in basic combat, crowd control, and ex-filtration techniques. We also have specially trained groups. These include demolition, heavy combat, stealth, and tech. Will you need any of those?”

“Uh, no. I- I don’t think so.” He sounded unsure.

I brought up a contract form on my tablet and started filling it out. “Ok, twelve standard henchpeople for one heist. What date?”

“Next Thursday.”

“Ok. Will you be providing weapons and equipment for the henchpeople?”

Wireframe hesitated before answering, “Uh no. Do I need to?”

“Not at all. Some supervillains like their henchpeople to use custom weapons and armor to keep on theme. We can’t replicate your color scheme exactly but we can do black with red trim or anything else you’d like.”

“That sounds ok.” I added it to contract.

“Great, I just need a payment method and you’re good to go.” I gave him a big reassuring smile.

“You will be paid after the job is done.” Uh oh someone thinks they’re in charge.

I stared into the blackness where his eyes should be. “Now that is a problem. We require payment upfront.”

“I can’t pay upfront. If I could, I would just hire my own henchmen.”

“Tell me how does a supervillain like yourself afford a custom powered armor suit but not henchpeople?”

“I was part of the team developing the suit for a military contractor and I stole it,” he said.

“Story as old as time. Did you create any exotic technologies for the suit?”

“It uses a carbon-nanotube weave to decrease the weight to protection ratio,” he boasted.

“Yeah, so does our armor. Come on, give me something good. What about the paint job?”

“What about it?” he looked down.

“Zero reflective coatings are useful but the ones I know about are fragile. Your suit is coated in the stuff so it can’t be that fragile. How hard is it to apply?”

“Once mixed, it can be painted on with a brush or sprayed on.”

“Interesting. And you know how to make it?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, I’m going to send you down to one of the tech labs. You talk to them about the paint and they’ll let me know if we’re interested in buying or licensing it from you. If we do, you come back up here and we’ll talk money.”

“And if you don’t?”

“You could always start robbing gas stations and work your way up to a heist.”

A few minutes later, Wireframe was heading to the labs. Too many young supervillains think they can go straight into pulling off heists. They can’t afford good help and try it solo only to get their asses beat by the local superhero. This one seems a little smarter. We might just be able to turn him into a regular client.

Scientist of Death Issue #4

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“Can I get a discount on this?” The customer shoved the item across the counter. “It has a stain right here.”

I looked at the indicated spot. The slight discoloration was probably not a set in stain and dabbing it with a wet cloth would most likely remove it. Not worth a discount in my eyes but store policy was more lenient.

“I can discount it by five percent,” I said.

“Is that all? I can’t get it half off.”

“No, five percent is all I’m allowed to do.”

“The other woman always gives me half off.” A blatant lie. No one except the managers could approve a fifty percent markdown and they rarely work the registers. I bit back on calling her on the lie.

“I’m sorry, it’s story policy,” I said.

“I’d like to speak to the manager.”

My hand reached for the button on my headset that would broadcast my voice to my co-workers and manager. As I depressed it, I felt a slight wiggle to the button. The switches and buttons on the sonic cannon I had handled the other day had been rock steady with smooth, crisp action. I looked around at the smirking customer, the other cashiers sneaking pity looks at me, the waiting customers in the queue and released the button without saying anything. I took off my walkie talkie.

“I quit,” I said to the customer.

“What?”

“I quit. I refuse to serve people like you who think you can just bully people like me to get whatever you want. I quit.” I grabbed the lanyard around my neck and yanked it straight down snapping the strap. The strap was made to snap apart to keep employees from accidentally being strangled by their lanyard but the effect was still dramatic. One of the other cashiers was speaking into her walkie no doubt informing every other employee of my actions.

I walked through the store to the break room where I retrieved my purse and left the store not physically for the last time, because I would have to return for my last check, but in spirit for the last time. From an inside pocket of my purse, I pulled out the receipt with an address and phone number on it and dialed the number.

It rang twice and the Doctor of Death answered, “Hello.”

“Do you have a workspace I can use or should I find something?”

“I can find you some space.” I could hear the grin in his voice. “Come by tomorrow. Glad to have you back.”

“I’m not back. I’m just working tech.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hung up before he could say anything else.

***

The next day, I returned to the office suite the Doctor of Death was using as his current front of operations. The waiting room was exactly the same including Susie the receptionist. I had hoped she would not be here since the last time we saw each other I had shot her with a sonic cannon.

She smiled, “Ms. Parks. So nice to see you again.” Was that a genuine smile or a shark smile.

“Hello Susie. I just wanted to say I’m sorry about shooting you the other day.”

Her smile tightened into something like a grimace. “Of course, mistakes were made on both sides.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.” Or at least you’re willing to pretend you do, I thought.

“I hope you will be as forgiving.” She pulled out the sonic cannon from behind her desk and fired it at me. The edge of my personal force field flared white as it absorbed the energy from the sonic pulse.

“Glad to see my paranoia wasn’t totally off base. If you could buzz me in, that would be great.” She glared at me but pressed the button to allow me entrance to the back. “Thank you.” I paused at the door and said, “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry I shot you.”

“Dr. Ford is expecting you,” she said through gritted teeth. Her eyes locked with mine in a challenge. Never leave an enemy at your back, especially not one willing to attack you from the back.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked casually.

“You’re some tech genius The Doctor wants to work for him.” She was almost sneering.

I walked closer to her desk. “Technically true. I’m also The Scientist of Death.”

“The Scientist of Death is dead.”

“No, just retired.”

“And he was a man.”

“Things change.” She began looking over my face and body for those telltale features. I watched for the moment when she realized I might be telling the truth. “Before I left the supervillain life I would have killed you instantly after you tried shooting me.” I stepped closer into her personal space. “That was five years ago. Today I’m letting you have that one shot but only that one shot. Try anything else and I will end this petty “feud” between the two of us permanently.” I reached out and snatched the sonic cannon from her hands.

To her credit she didn’t flinch or back away. She simply said, “Understood.”

“Good. You have a nice day,” I said and walked into the back.

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Serial Story: Scientist of Death

A supervillain finds herself drawn back into her old life years after retiring to transition.