Sleepers and Scouts

by Phillip Murrell

  “We will,” Keith answers.

  Hunter stretches his back and chest muscles as they exit the HardLight Sims warehouse.

  “You’re right, that’s a good workout,” Hunter mentions. “Better than push-ups.”

  “Speaking of push-ups, how would you like to push up on this?” a girl asks.

  Keith and Hunter look to the source of the voice. A pair of seventeen-year-old girls stand there in clothing too provocative for most exotic dancers. Hunter and Keith enjoy the view.

  “Is that an invitation?” Hunter asks while flashing a smile.

  The brunette moves closer and blatantly makes sure to rub her chest against his arm as she does.

  “It is when the guy knows his way around a gym,” she says.

  “Around a gym and a woman’s body,” Hunter replies.

  Keith becomes nervous when he senses the redhead likewise flirting with him.

  “Hey,” Keith says.

  “Hey yourself. You look like you could use a shower.”

  Keith gulps. She had to bring up showers while leaning in front of him.

  Hunter speaks instead. “Nah, that’s not sweat; it’s just a whole lot of awesome.”

  The girls giggle. The brunette reaches into Hunter’s pocket and pulls out his phone. She swipes his locked screen, and it opens without the need for a password.

  “I guess you knew I would need this,” she comments as she adds a number to his contact list. “Text me after your shower, or during it, and maybe we can hang out.”

  She hands Hunter his phone back and walks away. The redhead looks back at Keith and gives him the “call me” sign language.

  “You still got a girlfriend?” Hunter asks.

  “Don’t tempt me, man. Now my shower has to be cold.”

  Hunter laughs and slaps Keith on the back as the two head to his car.

  Karen and Maria enter Captain Crawdaddy’s in their police uniforms for lunch. The waiting area is moderately busy, and they have to work their way past other customers and tacky seafood trinkets to reach the hostess.

  “Just two?” the hostess asks.

  “Three. One more is coming,” Karen answers.

  “Okay, that’ll probably be about a fifteen-minute wait.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Maria and Karen move to the end of a bench and sit down to wait.

  “Is Claire coming?” Maria asks.

  “She texted me that she was on her way,” Karen snaps.

  “You in a bad mood still? You’ve been off for about two weeks now.”

  “I’m fine,” Karen lies.

  “No, you aren’t. Do you want to tell me about it? I mean, we are partners.”

  Karen shakes her head, but relents to her partner’s request.

  “I’m just a bit annoyed with Carlos.”

  “Why? What’d he do?”

  Claire rushes in and plops down next to Karen with Maria on the other side. “Sorry I’m late, you guys. Do you know how long the wait will be? I have to get back to the studio.”

  The police officers don’t immediately respond.

  “Am I interrupting something?” she asks.

  “You might as well hear it, too.” Karen sighs.

  “Hear what?” Claire asks.

  “Karen was telling me that she’s upset with Carlos,” Maria answers.

  “Why? What’d he do?” Claire repeats Maria’s earlier question.

  “It’s what he didn’t do,” Karen answers.

  The two other women wait for their friend to confess her feelings.

  “Carlos and I had a wonderful date a few weeks back. It was amazing. He had my favorite music, he made a delicious dinner, he had chilled champagne.”

  “The bastard,” Claire jokes.

  “Shhh,” Maria demands.

  Karen continues. “I was sure he was going to propose.”

  “Ohhhh,” both women say in unison.

  “I kept looking at the door to his kitchen and figured he would go over and get the ring, but he didn’t. Then we went home, and he was even more amazing.”

  “Bow chick a wow wow,” Claire teases.

  “Quiet,” Maria says more sternly.

  Karen laughs. “That happened, but not right away. First, he laid me on the bed and gave me a massage. He had oils, he sang to me, it was magic. I kept thinking, okay, any minute now he’s going to show me the ring, but he didn’t. Then, we made love, and it was heaven. I fell asleep in his arms. When I woke up, I was certain I would find a ring and get some lame excuse about him chickening out, but nothing.”

  “Are you sure he was even thinking of it?” Claire asks.

  “Claire,” Maria accuses.

  “Sorry,” Claire says. “I’m a reporter. It makes me a bit nosy by definition.”

  Karen shakes it off. “I don’t know. We were talking about having kids, but we never really broached the subject of marriage, I guess.”

  “Do you have any reason to doubt his faithfulness?” Maria asks.

  “Absolutely not! Why would you even ask that?”

  Maria throws up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. Sorry. I was just asking. Carlos is one of the good ones; Benji too, for that matter. You two have no infidelity fears.”

  Claire clears her throat after the comment.

  “You’re a great couple,” Claire states. “I’m sure Carlos is just building up his courage. It’ll happen before the year is out. I can feel it.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Karen sighs.

  The table pager in her hand begins to vibrate and blink red.

  “Looks like our table is ready. Anyone want to take on the endless bucket?” Karen asks.

  The other two women laugh and shake their heads. The three make their way back to the hostess.

  Julie sits at the head of her conference table. Her hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and the bags under her eyes suggest several sleepless nights. Henry sits to her right while another aide sits to her left. Both report on the success of the various hits Julie ordered.

  “Are we missing anyone else?” Julie asks.

  The woman to Julie’s left shakes her head, and Henry answers.

  “Hector and his top-level lieutenants are retired. The remaining employees are now part of The Enterprise.”

  “Good,” Julie says as she rubs her temples. “What about Over Pressure?”

  “We’re taking our time with him. The plan has to be precise.”

  “Do we know where he is?” Julie asks.

  “Last report suggests he’s coming back to America,” the woman answers.

  “What about The Opposition? Have they hit us again, or are they content to spread their presence to the other corners of the planet?”

  “The occasional mild hit, but within the margins we’ve set for the liability.”

  “That’s acceptable, I suppose.”

  “Mr. Chairman, do you have any more hunches on where to look for these people? Or any other augments, for that matter.”

  The answer immediately pops into Julie’s mind. She sees a list of names with addresses. The names include William Smith, Darsh Johal, Abel Cain, Karen Whitmore. Julie is unsure why she’s so positive that these people are the thorn in her side.

  “I do,” Julie admits. “Police Officers William Smith and Karen Whitmore for a start.”

  The woman looks with disbelief, as does Henry.

  “I was just joking, Mr. Chairman. How can you possibly know this?”

  “Because I’m augmented,” Julie thinks aloud.

  “Amazing!” Henry says. “This will make The Enterprise unstoppable.”

  Julie realizes that there’s a limit to her power. She spoke aloud how she knew things, but stopped short of admitting that it only works if the que
stion is genuinely asked. The fact that Henry and her other aide know her power means that they’ll no longer be able to ask questions. Julie considers the ramifications of this. Secrets can’t be kept; there’s only one way to maintain her augmented advantage.

  “I’m sorry,” Julie says.

  “Mr. Chair–”

  Henry doesn’t finish his sentence. Julie pulls a pair of knives out and throws one into the throat of both of her subordinates. Each falls back from his or her chair and rolls on the floor. Henry pulls the blade from his neck, allowing the blood to flow more easily. The woman is already dead. Julie stands over Henry. Pain and betrayal are in his eyes as they slowly fade away. Julie forces herself to stare into those eyes until she’s certain he’s dead. Her face doesn’t betray any emotion.

  Sacrifices must be made, Julie thinks.

  She looks once more at Henry’s body and adds, What a waste of an asset.

  Julie walks across the room and opens the main doors. Two guards stand outside it.

  “Clean up the retirement party in there,” Julie instructs.

  “Yes, Mr. Chairman,” they both say.

  They immediately go about their task without any questions or reservations.

  The Colberton Municipal Stadium is alive with throngs of cheering fans. Gallery gyrates on stage in the center of the local college football field with attractive backup dancers as she sings her latest club song. The crowd, twelve thousand in all, sing along to the pitch-corrected anthem of partiers.

  Keith and Mason spend more time watching Jenny and Sherry than the show. The girls wear shirts showing their adoration of the blonde pop star.

  “Love you so hard, you forget my name in the morning,” the girls sing along to the hook. “If I gave it in the first place!”

  The girls jump in place as the guitars and drums increase their volume while Gallery moves to each and sways her hips with arms held in the air.

  Keith and Mason share a “what the hell” look and begin to dance with their dates. Both take advantage of the atmosphere and make sure their hands travel across the girls’ bodies. Neither Jenny nor Sherry seems to notice nor care.

  The song wraps up with a screeching guitar solo, followed by beating drums and silence, allowing Gallery to sing the last line a cappella.

  “If I gave it in the first place!”

  The crowd erupts as Gallery uses praying hands to acknowledge their enthusiasm and thank them for it.

  “She’s amazing!” Sherry squeals.

  “I have the best boyfriend ever! Woo!” Jenny adds.

  “Your boyfriend has the best mom, at least,” Mason quips.

  “Should we leave now to get ahead of the traffic?” Keith asks.

  “No!” Sherry and Jenny scream.

  “Dumbass,” Mason adds. “What do you care? I’m the one who has to drive them back.”

  “I wish my mom would let me go with you, but she wants to take me up herself tomorrow.”

  “Shut up!” Jenny and Sherry scream.

  Keith mildly pays attention again to Gallery as she addresses the audience before her final song.

  “Good way to spend a Friday, eh, Colberton?”

  The fans cheer.

  “I wanted to come here to support all the augmented people out there!”

  “Woo!” the audience cheers.

  Many augmented people in the audience show off with their paltry powers. Simple abilities are much more commonplace than what the Templars possess. One man juggles light spheres, and a young woman grows neon purple hair all over her body. Gallery points out individuals like these and motions for the crowd to support them.

  “We can’t give in to hate. Don’t be afraid of our special brothers and sisters!”

  “She’s laying it on kind of thick,” Mason comments.

  “Shut up!” the girls scream again.

  “Remember, you never know who could be hiding a power. Treat everyone with respect. They have my support!”

  The crowd cheers again.

  “Time to come out in the modern era!” Gallery screams.

  She holds both of her hands straight up over her head and fires two concentrated beams of solar energy straight into the sky. The crowd cheers along at first, but then a hush comes over it as the spectators realize it isn’t a pyrotechnic trick.

  “I’m an augment and proud to be,” Gallery announces. “So, don’t hide who you are.”

  This decree prompts the crowd to cheer again. Sherry and Jenny hold hands and jump up and down. Keith and Mason sneak pictures on their phones of the event.

  “Captain Jillarni, you should regard this,” Commander Guntho reports.

  “Display,” Jillarni orders.

  Guntho interacts with the multi-colored tendrils of smoke rising from the Malignant tablet she holds. Soon a picture of the Gallery concert is played for the Malignant commander.

  “Amazing,” Jillarni compliments. “Some of the lost Malignant down there possess impressive skills.”

  “They do indeed,” Guntho says.

  “Lieutenant Flaimeson, report,” Jillarni commands.

  Flaimeson pushes himself away from his work station and approaches his commanding officer.

  “Yes, Captain Jillarni?”

  “Report on the seed process. Are we prepared to continue?”

  Flaimeson interacts with his own tablet and brings up plumes of smoke that translate on the view screen as charts and graphs.

  “Sir, we just reached two standard deviations of time from the average process on other worlds.”

  “Nearly optimal,” Jillarni states. “Inform me when we reach three. That will be enough. Then we will alert Mother and begin the winnowing.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You are dismissed,” Jillarni says.

  Flaimeson turns to head back to his seat, but he overhears Guntho.

  “Sir, you have a report from Agent Cooerloo.”

  Agent Cooerloo? Flaimeson thinks.

  “Optimal,” Jillarni states. “I will take it in my quarters. You are responsible, Commander Guntho.”

  “I am responsible,” Guntho repeats.

  Jillarni moves from his command chair, and Guntho takes his vacant position as the Malignant captain leaves the bridge.

  Claire barely registers an alarm clock going off at seven o’clock Saturday morning. She vaguely remembers Benji rolling out of bed and mentioning something about his fishing trip with Reid and the guys. By the time he kisses her cheek, she’s already asleep again.

  Claire wakes up at a respectable ten o’clock in the morning and forces herself out of bed. She brushes her teeth and takes a quick shower. She has nothing planned for the day, so she decides to just throw on a pair of panties and a silky robe for lounging around the house. Claire walks downstairs and into her kitchen. She starts her single cup coffee machine and spreads cream cheese onto a bagel. She munches on her late breakfast as she pours her coffee. With her full meal in hand, she turns around and drops it all onto the floor with a yelp.

  Standing in front of her is Brock.

  “Brock, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing here? It’s Saturday.”

  “I’m sorry,” Brock says, acknowledging the mess. “But I had to see you without Benji in the way.”

  Claire feels a tingle from this, followed by a feeling of dread.

  “What does that mean?” she asks despite knowing, and hoping for, the answer.

  Brock strides across the room and grabs Claire’s face with both hands. He kisses her deeply, and she, despite herself, instantly wraps him up and shares in the kiss. She claws at the buttons on his shirt as he hoists her chubby body onto the island in her kitchen. She feels him rip open her loosely tied robe and expose her body. Within moments, her legs are on his shoulders as he pulls her butt
to the edge of the island and leans into her. Benji is easily forgotten as Claire lives in the moment.

  Claire and Brock lie exhausted on the living room floor. She’s not quite certain where any of his clothes are or the little she was wearing. Her body sheens, and finally her thoughts catch up to her. She’s alarmed by the lack of guilt she feels for her actions. Benji is now the fourth man she’s cheated on in her life. A piece of her always knew this would happen, but the reformed Claire wants to force a feeling of disgust.

  Claire looks over at Brock. “It’s been years since someone has taken me like that. You were amazing.”

  Brock holds a cocky grin. “I kinda figured. That’s a shame. A sexy bitch like you should be man-handled all the time.”

  Bitch? Strike one, Claire thinks.

  “I hope you don’t think I’m like this all the time,” Claire complains.

  “Whatever. Who am I to judge?”

  “Please tell me you don’t consider this a one-time thing?” Claire pleads.

  “No. I’ll nail you as many times as you want, just as long as you realize it’s only a sexual thing.”

  Strike two, but Claire is already looking forward to another session with Brock and his powerful arms.

  “Well, Benji is going to be gone all day. Do you want to go do something?”

  “What did I just say? Besides, I’ve got to go workout.”

  Brock looks at Claire’s exposed and flabby belly.

  “If you want, I can show you some exercises to tone everything up?” Brock offers.

  Strike three, and yet, apparently, he isn’t out.

  “Yeah, maybe later,” Claire says to her own annoyance. “I’ve got to clean this place up now.”

  Brock looks around at the disaster their lust left behind.

  “We did go at it pretty hard. Well, good luck with that. I’ll see you Monday, unless you need another excuse to feel like a woman. You have my number.”

  Brock stands and looks for his discarded clothing. Now Claire does feel guilty. Brock is the bad boy and Benji is the good one, but all she can do in this moment is stare at his penis. She wipes a tear away and decides she needs another shower.

  Keith leans his head against the window of his mother’s sports car as Tina drives him north to Fort Chamberlain.