“Holy shit,” Jon said and fell back onto the seat. Reaching without moving his body, he picked up his second beer from the ice bucket. Jon wasn’t into the salt and lime thing, and though it wasn’t his favorite beer, its smooth skunkiness slapped him just right this time. Another image formed in his head—what Herald had told him, combining their project with... Does Herald know about this? I—don’t think he does.
Jerry continued, describing some of what he had participated in at VlexCom, mentioning some of the ideas he’d lent. And he really was quite an expert on the topic. His wife Alice had been a nymphomaniac and the reason for his move to the big city; leaving behind country life in Tennessee and small town living, but mostly hunting and fishing. After receiving an inheritance she used the money to move and together they opened the store, making her dreams come true. But sadly, soon after in a wild attempt to break a world record, she met her demise from blood loss at a sex party; not before teaching Jerry in ways many-a-mortal will never get the pleasure of. All that and owning Titan’s Pleasurables for a few years, who else was more befitted to advise? And Nancy, now more happily married—and more promiscuous—than ever, was a regular customer at Jerry’s. He got a foot in the door alright. It was a coincidence which allowed him the extraordinary opportunity.
Although he might look like a huge stupid redneck to some of the urbanites, he was smart and understood his business well; Nancy learned this early on. She visited him often and was convinced. Being his apprentice in a vague sort of way, she trusted him well. At VlexCom he offered many suggestions and his ideas had changed the shape of many of the robots’—parts. Why have one breast when you can have three; one penis when you can have two or more? Multi-purposed, multi-assed, even vacuum super-suction, but why stop there? Throw in modular adaptability, add-ons, upgrades; his advice was absorbed by thirsty ears. Speeds included: slow and sensual, traditional rhythmic, wacky slaphappy, punch pounding, the rabbit-twerk, and super-sonic to name a few.
“They’re going to take over the sex industry,” Jon said finally enlightened, half listening to Jerry, the other half in outer space, imagining the fucked-up world under new light. “It really is all about the money,” he mumbled. “It’ll be billions, trillions—more.”
“What’s that Jon?” Jerry said watching Jon’s unfocused eyes.
“It’ll work. It’ll be the largest, most powerful company in the world—if it isn’t already. The sex industry is huge, worth billions, and combine that with—and when we plug in the—” He caught himself, not wanting to mention anything of the project; he couldn’t, at least not yet—although many times he so-fucking-wanted-to. It was tough for even the most trustworthy, to keep such a secret, but Jon managed; maybe the hardest part of his job, being the only one on the team that really knows. The others—except for Jodi, it slipped with her—think the coding is a construct for a new operating system, while the true specificities have always been cleverly hidden. Then his thoughts flipped directions: the blocker device. Maybe Jerry can have one? The quick thought swept through like a gust of wind. He remembered how Herald closely examined him at the club.
“You’re gonna plug in what?” Jerry asked, guzzling the last skunky beer.
“Ah, nothing. Well that’s good Jerry. Who else? I’m glad you’re their adviser and your secret is safe with me.” His thoughts stood apart from his words, lingering around a term Herald had used earlier: inevitability.
Jon raised his beer above the table, “Friends.”
“I’ll drink to that Jon, truly glad to have met ya. Friends.” Jerry was still a bit puzzled but he couldn’t turn down the toast, the opportunity to chug a beer.
Jon’s thoughts bounced back and forth between the atmosphere at the bar and unwinding with Jerry, to the end of the world, and people getting fucked by robots; a weird combination that oddly left him craving another beer. They finished their tacos with a number 1 sauce, for flavor only, labeled bluntly: This Sauce is for Pussies. The graphic on the bottle taunted: two robust women with aprons pointing and laughing, each had a pencil-necked nerd in a headlock. Below it read: Jokes Aside, You’ll Love the Award Winning Flavor! And the bucket of beers was red ice water—to be expected in the company of Jerry. But Valerie came around often; Jon noticed, quite a bit more often than any other time he’d been to Rita’s in the past.
His mind floated while Jerry flirted with Valerie; she even sat in for a while. He couldn’t help but wonder if Herald knew about the sexual bullseye VlexCom was aiming for. Did he, and just never mention it? No. Couldn’t have. But he might, and just never said anything. Secrets ran deep at VlexCom and there were a myriad of floors that even his clearance couldn’t get the elevator to stop at. He shrugged it off thinking how interesting things are going to get, possibly soon. Does it even matter? Probably not, just a different approach? The initial use for the artificial intelligence technology: bring to life sex robots. Jon grinned to himself. He thought of Jerry’s out-of-this-world suggestions and imagined them in homes, walking the streets. Freakish three-legged sex bots! He returned to the moment…
“I would love to but can’t–workin’,” Valerie replied, sitting on Jerry’s left tree trunk; it was obvious she heard a million pickup lines in her profession, but never spoken quite like that. It was clear she adored his accent. America, even LA, was quite a melting pot, but Jerry stood out like a sore thumb. She liked him right off the bat and was beginning to show it openly.
“Well, what time you get off? Maybe we can go dancing? Ever square-dance?”
Jon grinned, a beer discharge-blast brewing, and he joked, “You’re kidding right?”
He was in part. Mostly it’d just slipped out; truth was he felt nervous around Valerie, but in a good way—unlike any girl he’d ever met. Such a beauty, clearly she was his opposite, in every way.
But Valerie, appealing to his words, took him hypnotizingly serious, “No never Jerry, but I would love too.” She paused but not for more than a second. “Okay, I get off at 8 and you can pick me up here. I need a ride home but I get ready quick.” She thought about her papa’s reaction to this southern giant. He stood nearly twice as tall as her tallest brother.
“Okay. I’ll be here at 8 then, and yes Jon, I know the perfect place,” Jerry said word-slapping his bud. “You and Jodi should join us.” Valerie smiled at Jon widening her eyes, like take that, and okay, you’re turn.
“I think we’re gonna have a quiet night, maybe a movie. Jodi has quite a hangover from last night. But thanks, you two have at it.”
Valerie left to tend to a few newcomers; said she’d bring them back a few beers shortly. After a couple minutes she was at the bar, leaning forward awaiting the bartender. She looked over to Jerry who was unable to not notice her. She threw a single leg up and arched her back in a friendly tease. They both looked at her. A few other men gawked too, but ceded quickly after seeing the titan she’d locked her gaze onto.
“I gotta give it to you Jerry,” Jon said. “Cheers.” And he gulped the last warmish swig of his only second beer after lifting it in congrats to Jerry.
It was getting a little busy for a Saturday afternoon but the bartender finally slid a bucket of beers her way. Hips swaying naturally from side to side like poetry, Valerie brought it to the table and slammed it down. “Don’t forget big man. I get out of here a las ocho, that’s 8 o’clock.” She said the Spanish time sensually and slow, and the English time directly and stern. Before leaving again she puckered her luscious bright-red lips and blew Jerry a kiss. Walking away she made a show of it. Jerry was mesmerized. Valerie hit his sweet spot. He would not be late, and there wasn’t much that in the world that could stop Jerry when he was determined; he’d be a reigning king on a demolition team, but he ended up selling dildos and porn, which had of course, worked out just dandy.
Jon and Jerry kicked it a bit longer and enjoyed a final bucket of beers, Jon drank two Jerry four. Jon phoned Jodi asking if she felt better. She said she did and he told her he was on
the way. “Well, I’m gonna take off Jerry, it’s been, interesting. And have a good night with Valerie.”
“Thanks bro. Y’all have a good one too,” Jerry said.
It was already 6 p.m. so Jerry ended up staying to wait for Valerie. He quickly made some new friends and a little salsa competition began. It got rowdy and the competition was fiery. It came down to the last two competitors: Jerry, and Han. He made it up to a number 8, tortuously named Pop’s Belt O’ Fire before throwing the towel. Atop and below the bottle’s logo were flaming belts. It had a picture of a father spanking a mischievous child who wore a black and white prison uniform. He dangled him by one arm, and the belt no less, was ablaze, as well as the red-faced kid’s ass. The skinny oriental guy ended up winning with a 9, Throat Acid, the logo on the bottle to gruesome to describe. He not only lost his color, turning from pale white to fire-engine red, but some of the blotches looked damagingly permanent, like blood vessels had erupted leaving volcanic bulges on his face. He ended up running out of the bathroom screaming. He neglected his winnings and dashed out the door and wasn’t heard from after that.
He took Valerie home and on the way began to clam up. Embarrassed he did his best to keep it together. His stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard over his diesel engine and Valerie chuckled. She knew.
She introduced him to her parents who spoke little English. They had to look up at Jerry as if he was a walking cell-tower. They didn’t hide the fact that they'd never seen a man so large but welcomed him in with open arms and quickly took a liking to his polite southern manners. The house was an older one and maintained very cleanly. It was small and full to the brim with family, and had short ceilings and entryways; Jerry found himself ducking numerous times.
But he didn’t look well. His color was flushed and beads of sweat starting forming. The stomach of pork and beer and hot sauce caught up to him. He ended up in the bathroom for a good twenty minutes while the sizable family of eight—even Valerie’s parents joined with concern—stood outside the door either wondering if he was okay. The teenagers giggled at the thunderous wall-shaking sounds. Valerie did her best to shoe them away, most unsuccessfully.
Things smoothed out rather quickly after Jerry finished his war with the Lopez family toilet. It passed the eating contest of champions and ultimately the lone porcelain one proved itself worthy.
They danced. It was a nice but quick night out, and yes, actual square-dancing at a hole in the wall joint Jerry had sort of known about, but never actually tried. As interesting and fun as it was, they ended up sneaking out early. Next, Valerie's turn to choose. They had coffee at The Beaner and enjoyed a solid hour of bonding conversation before Jerry brought her home before 11.
In front of the door, under the light of a yellow 80 watt they stood attempting a goodbye. The neighborhood was quiet and the windows of the house dark. Valerie reached to pull Jerry’s head closer. He took a knee and she whispered into his ear, “I like you Jerry. I—” Blushing, she appeared bashful, nervous in front of him, unable to finish her sentence. But Jerry knew. He felt the same. They read each other's body language well; a potent attraction existed between them. Jerry felt like a teenager with a new girlfriend and mutually they’d endured love-at-first-sight jitters and survived the awkward moments of their first date.
“Well it has been my pleasure to spend the evening with you Valerie.”
Valerie planted the most luscious-lipped kiss Jerry had ever experienced. He reached around her thin waist and lifted her up. Her legs bent at the knee while he returned her kiss. Her many brothers, young and old, even her papa and mama peeked through the curtains. She let out an excited high-pitched squeak as he spun her around happily under the porch and they both elated. Laughter erupted when the back of his head hit the bulb breaking it off. Glass went flying. Moments later the door cracked open and a hand squeezed out, holding a flashlight, giggling. Valerie took it with an angry smile and the door closed. She used it to remove the shards from his brown curls. His thick hair had prevented a gash.
“Good night Val,” he said giving her with a nickname while still rubbing the back of his head. “I do hope to see you again—and I’m real sorry about the bulb.”
“How about tomorrow you big white mountain man?” Valerie flirted cutely, unable to resist this time.
Jerry couldn’t resist either tipping a hat he didn’t have. “You can count on it.” And he strolled toward the gate, cautious not to trip or embarrass himself again. He saw movement at the windows and yelled, “Good night Lopez family.” Several shouts of Buenas Noches Jerry returned from the darkness.
The lights flipped on in her house, lighting up a good deal of neighborhood and she went in smiling from ear to ear. Mama made coffee, Papa grabbed a beer, and the boys surrounded the table anxious for details.
He left ecstatic. Driving home in his diesel truck he spoke to himself and his late mother. “Maw, she might just be the one.”
21. Blocker
She awoke slowly snuggled in his arms, head on his chest. The glass west wall of the bedroom let in the magnificent view. City lights faded as morning sunlight skimmed the city. A warm orange glow reflected back from some of the larger buildings illuminating the ceiling and part of the wall behind his bed.
Ana stretched her nude body under the sheets and looked up to him warmly. “Buenos dias mi amor,” she said. He’d already been awake, staring deep in thought with one hand behind his head. She tugged his cheek to steal his attention—and to yank the seriousness out of him. He fell out of his thoughts and tickled her hip bone. She squirmed evasively before striking again. And the daybreak fun under the sheets began, with laughs, giggles, and love.
Herald pulled strings to make it happen fast and she already had her citizenship. She’d moved into the building three weeks earlier, after hugs and tears and goodbyes. Ana had been abandoned as a child. Rosario, her foster mom, never could have kids of her own, but Ana was her daughter. Herald offered, but Rosario neglected—she had a clinic to run, decades of clients that were like family. Managing the goodbye, be it with one or one hundred was still difficult, but Rosario, as sudden as the circumstances were, was happy Ana had found someone.
Herald inhaled Spanish, speaking it almost perfectly after a couple weeks. Ana was the icing on the cake, helping him to perfect the accent. He taught her many things about his job, and let her in on his secrets and ideas, some that he never told anyone else. He was transparent about everything with her. And she comforted him, keeping him balanced; a natural alternative to his old schedule, she allowed him to maximize his gift far better than the Uberman sleep schedule, or his highly addictive drugs. They were a special match and she stayed right by his side during the painful withdrawals. She was however frightened by his visions of the future, but trusted him and never looked back.
Finally back on a normal day-work night-sleep schedule, he still found sleeping the entire night difficult. He would get up and record much of his thoughts and ideas and many times code with his portable on his lap sitting on the bedroom floor by the window. The nightscape sprayed his eyes, every sparkle was an idea and he had to choose specifically which to pursue. But last night he’d gotten the full eight, for the first time in a long time, and he felt a renewed sense of contentment, ready to conquer the code, armed with clarity of mind. After a hot homemade breakfast, which he enjoyed so much more than the hex-dish pre-preps, he went into the lab and got started. The blocker was nearing completion, ahead of schedule.
There was a knock at the lab door. Turning he could see half of Jon through the one-way. “Come on in Jon,” Herald said. Jon entered and came over to one of the lab’s stations where Herald was working on a tiny device.
“Is that it?” Jon asked. “It’s smaller than I imagined it would be.”
“Sure is, and just about ready. Got the last of the hardware in a few days ago. You have the algorithms?”
“Here they are,” Jon said pulling the file from his pocket. “And like you sa
id, nobody noticed it was anything different from the main project. I did recognize that many were reverse modifications of some of the ones we did two months ago.”
“Only a few last minute touches.” Herald squinted in concentration and put together the last few pieces of the device and closed up the casing. “There. Now we only need to put together the algorithms you and your team finished. I’ll show you, check it out.” With enthusiasm Herald impatiently headed to his main console, Jon inquisitively followed.
Herald paused smiling up at Jon holding the file between his fingers. “If this works—we’re all set.” He set it on the reader. The file quickly unlocked and appeared on screen. He loaded the visual configuration taking the main interface out of code view and began to drag and drop the many algorithms that appeared from the file into predetermined spots; each lit up green as it snapped into place. Having the back-end of the system perfected was crucial. It made it easier to divide the immense project into more manageable parts and manage things via drop slots. In turn he could delegate any task to a team member which allowed him to focus on the most important parts of the projects; to use his genius exactly where it was needed. As he dragged them in one by one, all lit up green except one. Herald quickly leapt into code view for that module. He narrowed down the problem in the algorithm within thirty seconds, a universe of code, zooming deeper, deeper… He fixed it.
Jon’s eyes repulsed their sockets and he’d lost track of what Herald was doing within seconds. “W—ow,” Jon said with a stutter. “It would take me and the team a day to find that error, considerably longer to correct it.” Herald didn’t hear him; he was deeply immersed in his world. The screen zoomed out of code view and the visual interface swung back into place. Jon stood and watched as the rest of the place-marks illuminated green, then a line appeared connecting them to the source which shown on the center monitor where a spherical graphic illuminated as the data was appended to the source; the sphere appeared to grow brighter after consuming each module. Sucked of their life-blood, each algorithm in turn faded to grey and fell from the screen with an animation of fading ash. There were about sixty in total, Jon brought twenty-four on his file. The hungry brain ingested them and grew brighter and larger after each; the center screen lit the room and the outer displays went dim as the process completed.
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