Rocket! An Ell Donsaii story #4)
Page 6
A young Asian man staggered into her. For a moment the multiple attempted kidnappings she had suffered at the hands of Chinese nationals leapt to the forefront of her mind. Then the red faced young man smiled widely at her and held up his beer, “Heeyy! You’re pretty! I’m Joe Chan. Can I be your boyfriend?” He swung his hands to point at himself with both thumbs, spilling some of his beer.
Ell grinned at him, “You can be my friend.”
“Heeyy!” he raised his arms. “And I’m a boy! Tha’ makes me a boyfrien’, right?”
Ell laughed at his cheerfully good natured drunkenness, “A ‘friendly boy’ at least. A friendly boy who’s had too much to drink, I think.”
“You’re a poet! But you’re right. You should help me maintain my balance.” He put an arm over Ell’s shoulders, “If you help me walk without falling I’ll introduce you to the band.” He waggled his eyebrows proudly, “I know ‘em all.”
Ell rolled her eyes, “OK, I’ll hold you up.” She looked toward the window, surprised that people staying in a little house like this could afford a live band for their party. “Take me in and introduce me.”
“All righ’!” Joe said enthusiastically, starting toward the porch steps, “Gangway, pretty lady comin’ through!” He began crowding his way through the people on the stairs shouting all the while.
Ell worried that someone would object but they all grinned good naturedly at Joe, many shouting good natured taunts, “Oh no, Joe’s fooled another one.”
“Give it up Joe, she’s too good lookin’ for you!”
“Look out little lady, he’s a devil in disguise.”
Joe drew himself up, “Ignore those small minded people, remember—I know the band!” He clumsily maneuvered her in the door.
The house had a surprisingly large front room, crowded with even more people. The band was set up at one end. The people were swaying to the loud music, or perhaps you could call it dancing, though packed so tightly, it was a little hard to tell. Joe said, “Let’s dance!” Or at least that’s what Ell thought he said. He took his arm off her shoulders and turned toward Ell. Assuming a wide stance he began moving jerkily to the music.
Ell turned toward Joe and began swaying and shuffling her feet in a minimized version of the line dance she’d learned in Las Vegas. Joe smiled happily at her then bumped into the woman behind him. He turned to apologize to her and Ell stole a glance at the band. They were mostly hidden by the crowd since they weren’t up on a stage, but a small gap in the crowd revealed Gordon. He was actually part of the band and behind a microphone! He saw her too and grinned widely then leaned to the mike and began the next verse. Ell realized he was the lead singer! He’s really good!
Joe leaned close to her, Ell put up a hand to steady him. The song was winding down he shouted, “What’s your name?”
Ell said, “Belle. Belle Donovan.”
Joe’s eyebrows shot up. “Gordon’s friend?”
Ell shrugged. “Gordon invited me.”
Joe turned vaguely toward the band and bellowed, “Gordo, Belle’s here!”
Gordon’s voice came over the PA system, “OK folks, last song before we take a break! I give you ‘Belle…’ Bottom Blues!”
Ell rolled her eyes. She should have known!
A rough distorted bluesy guitar lick began. Joe resumed swaying so Ell did too. A commotion from her left proved to be Gordon pushing through the crowd while still playing the guitar. Behind him a guy was carrying the microphone on its stand. Ell raised her eyebrows at him as he stopped in front of her and waited for the guy to put the mike down. He leaned to the mike and began singing, “Belle bottom blues…” while raising his eyebrows at her.
Like the rough mildly distorted guitar he sang with a gravelly voice. Ell thought it sounded great. When the song was over he pushed his guitar around behind his back on its sling, grinned at her and said, “I see you’ve met my buddy Joe Chan?” Gordon gestured at Joe who staggered a little. Gordon put a hand out to steady him.
Joe said, “Oh yeah!”
Ell grabbed Joe’s other shoulder to help keep him upright, “Yep. I think Joe’s had enough to drink for a while.” She turned back to Gordon raising her eyebrows, “Are you ever gonna ease up on my name?”
“Oh no!” he said, mock seriously. “You challenged me with that, ‘I’m sure I’ve already heard all the ‘Belle’ jokes you can possibly think of’ line. It was just for you I spent hours learning that ‘Bell Bottom Blues’ song you know.”
“I liked it. Even if you were hassling me with it.”
He raised his eyebrows, “What’s not to like? A blues standard, played by an awesome guitarist, sung by an amazing singer!” He frowned, “Of course you liked it!”
“Astounding modesty too!” Ell laughed.
“Hey Joe,” Gordon said, “We need to get this girl a beer. She’s too sharp for us when she’s sober!”
“Yeah! But don’ gi’ me another one, or, I’ll be, too drunk, to im-impress her with my sc-scin-tillating wit.”
Without the band playing, the crowded room was emptying out. People filtered out into the yard and the keg set up out there. Ell and the guys went out into the crisp spring evening. Someone had started a small fire in what appeared to have been a brick planter in the middle of the patio. Ell said, “I’d like a Coke, not beer.”
Gordon looked at her and said, “A rum and Coke?” He winked, “Remember, we’re trying to dull your resistance to our sharp wit.” He waved to a table, “It’s over there.”
Ell made her way to the table and got herself a plastic cup full of ice. She poured Coke into it.
Gordon shouted from over at the keg, “Don’t forget the rum! I’m watching you.”
Ell picked up the rum bottle and pretended to pour some into her Coke, then headed back toward the fire. Part way there she was stopped by a large guy with a beer in one hand. “Hey pretty girl! What’s your name?”
“I’m Belle.” Ell glanced past him, looking for Gordon and saw Joe unsteadily coming her way. She was beginning to regret this Belle disguise. The platinum blonde wig seemed to attract too much attention. To become “Belle” she put on a heavy makeup with a slightly lumpy texture to make it seem like it was trying to cover a case of acne. She also tucked prosthetic lumps between her gums and cheeks to give herself slightly puffy chipmunk cheeks. As opposed to her “Ellen” and “Raquel” disguises she wasn’t wearing a nasal prosthesis.
The “Ellen” disguise with the large nose and “fat pants” made from silicone had rendered her pretty unattractive. In that disguise men had never accosted her. In fact they seldom even gave her a second look. As “Belle” she looked different enough to not be recognized as Ell but she was getting hassled a lot. She was thinking she must have unwittingly made herself look better than her natural state. No judge of her own looks, she didn’t believe people who told her how stunning she was naturally. In fact when they said things about her looks she worried that they were enamored of her gymnastic fame or that they might have found out about her money.
In actual fact the “Belle” disguise changed her so she wasn’t as gorgeous as in her natural state but she was still pretty cute. It did nothing to change her slender shape nor to alter the fluid grace of her actions. She had no idea how much the simple elegance and economy of motion of her actions attracted people’s eyes. She wondered if she should have used “fat pants” for “Belle?” She had wanted to avoid the extra time the pants required in changing into her disguise because she changed in and out of this disguise three mornings a week for her Astronomy class. But really, she could have done it in the car during transit without that much trouble.
The big guy said, “I’m Vic. Are you a student at the ‘U’?”
“Part time.”
He nodded, “I’m on the football team.” His eyes said she should be impressed. “Vic Galtieri.”
“What do you study?” Ell looked over at Joe who’d unsteadily come around Vic.
Joe chee
rfully said, “Belle!” and reached out toward her.
“General studies.” Vic said to Ell, then he turned slightly toward Joe, “Get lost.”
Joe turned to look blearily at Vic. Ell said, “Joe’s a friend of mine.”
Without looking back at Ell, Vic growled, “Joe’s a drunk who’s gonna go sit down until he’s sober enough to walk.”
Joe turned back to Ell with his big grin still plastered on his face, “Maybe he’sh right Belle, you wanna help me go sit down?”
Narrowed eyes on Joe, Vic said, “No, she’s gonna stay here. She and I were talkin.’”
Sighing inside, Ell reached out to steady Joe. “Vic, I can decide for myself what I’m going to do.”
Ell saw Vic tense and his hand start to rise. She dropped into the zone a little.
Vic said, “This drunk can sit down right here then.” His hand rose.
Realizing that Vic intended to shove Joe and knock him down, Ell sent her hand up underneath Vic’s. She wondered if she could push his arm up just the right amount? She didn’t want to hit his arm hard and injure him like she had her step-dad Jake; she just wanted to push it up enough that it didn’t hit Joe. It was a big arm. She went deeper in the zone and watched her hand settle under Vic’s meaty distal forearm. She pushed upward gently and then a little harder when she realized it wouldn’t be enough to move an arm the size of Vic’s. Vic’s hand slid up and over Joe’s shoulder and Ell’s hand rotated to settle on Joe’s shoulder, steadying him and turning him away from Vic.
Vic stumbled when his hand didn’t meet the expected resistance. Ell realized that Vic was fairly drunk himself, though it didn’t show on him like it did on Joe. Ell started to guide Joe toward a bench keeping an eye on Vic over her shoulder. Vic staggered a step or two, then turned back toward them. Damn, why can’t he just leave us alone!
Gordon appeared behind him, “Hey Vic,” he started.
“Butt out Gordon.” Vic rumbled, shambling after Ell and Joe.
Gordon started to reach out for him, “Vic, calm down! You know how you get when you’re drunk.”
Saying, “I said BUTT out!” Vic reached out one big meaty hand and shoved Gordon. Gordon staggered back, stumbling into an azalea bush and losing his footing. Vic resumed stumping after Ell and Joe.
Ell turned Joe and sat him down on the bench. He grinned up at her. “Heeyy Belle,” he drawled, seemingly completely unaware of the high tension situation surrounding him.
Vic lumbered up and reached for Ell’s arm, “Let’s get outta here Belle.”
Ell moved her arm so he missed it, “No! Vic, I’m sorry, but you’re acting like a jerk. I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
He narrowed his eyes and reached again, “Come on! You’ll like it!”
Ell moved her arm out of his grasp again, Gordon was coming up on Vic’s other side. She wondered what she could do to get this situation back in control? How had it escalated so quickly? Are all college parties like this? Or was it something about her, somehow bringing out the worst in people?
Gordon said, “Vic! Leave her alone!” and reached for Vic’s arm.
Ell had come most of the way back up out of the zone, she pushed herself back down into it. Crap! She saw Vic tensing as Gordon touched his arm. He’s going to hit Gordon! Vic’s hand formed a fist and he began to turn toward Gordon, muscles bunching as he built a full roundhouse punch. My God! If that punch hits, Gordon’s going down. Hard! Ell moved with Vic, reaching up again to slap the bottom of his forearm and deflect the punch up above Gordon’s startled face. Gordon’s face showed that he realized how badly he’d underestimated Vic’s current state. Vic’s knuckle grazed Gordon’s forehead, knocking his head back a little, but then Vic himself, unbalanced by the miss, lurched forward and stumbled into Gordon. They went down in a tangle of limbs, Vic bellowing with rage.
Ell stepped closer, studying the debacle in front of her. Vic was coming down, his waist across Gordon’s ribs, Vic’s upper body to Gordon’s right. Gordon’s arms were flailing out, trying to keep his head from hitting the ground. Ell reached out for Gordon’s right hand with hers, reaching with her left hand into her purse. When she had a good grip on Gordon’s hand she leaned back, pulling hard, trying to help keep his head from hitting the bricks, as well as pulling him out from under Vic. As the two men crashed to the ground, Ell’s pull slid Gordon somewhat out from under Vic, but not completely. She leaned to her right, trying to roll Gordon out from under him. As she’d feared, the thrown punch having failed, Vic began to surge back, now ready to wrestle.
Ell leaned forward, stretched out her left arm and gently squeezed a small dose of pepper spray into Vic’s face. Then she surged back to resume pulling on Gordon’s arm. Vic’s arm that had been snaking around Gordon’s torso, stopped and began pulling back to grasp his face in agony. Gordon rolled the rest of the way out from under Vic, got his hands under him and heaved himself to his feet, prepared for fight or flight. His eyebrows creased as he looked at Vic. “What happened to him?” Vic was scrubbing at his eyes and coughing violently.
“Pepper spray,” Ell said quietly, looking around at the crowd that had begun staring at them. Barrett and Randy from her security team were just turning to fade back into the shadows as it began to look like they weren’t needed. She leaned down to Vic, “Sorry Vic. Let me help you get into the bathroom to wash your face.”
Gordon said, “Whoa! Remind me not to piss you off!”
Vic coughed again, he must have been inhaling when Ell shot him with the spray. “Wha’ ta’ Hell happen’!?” He coughed again but pushed himself to his feet and let Ell start leading him toward the house.
Ell turned to Gordon, “Gordon. Where’s the bathroom?”
Gordon shook his head, “I wouldn’t go in there with him if I were you Belle. He’s an animal when he’s drunk. I wouldn’t have invited him but he promised to stay sober.”
Ell rolled her eyes at Gordon, “He’s hurt, we gotta help him get in and get this stuff washed off of him.”
Gordon shrugged and said, “This way.” He stepped into the lead and Ell guided the sobbing Vic after him.
When Ell got back to the farmhouse that night she found Steve waiting up. “Hey, you’re not on duty.”
“No but Barrett called to let me know what happened. You’re a one woman calamity zone!”
“Hey! I didn’t start anything! It was a drunk guy that apparently likes to get into fights!”
“Drunk guy getting in a fight over a woman. You! You really should stay away from these situations!”
“I didn’t do anything to get the guy started! He was plain spoilin’ for a fight!”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sorry, I know it wasn’t your fault. I just don’t want you getting hurt is all. You really shouldn’t be going to these kinds of wild parties. At least not looking so good. Pretty girls attract aggressive guys. ”
Ell looked at him a moment, “Hey Steve. I know it’s a weird dichotomy, but, even though I’m your boss, I’m just a kid you know. I need to get out and live life a little don’t you think? That’s half the reason I’m taking that astronomy class—so I can spend some time with kids my age.”
Steve looked up at the ceiling, then drew a long suffering sigh. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I just don’t like it.”
She grinned at him, “’night Dad.”
Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m not your Dad,” he growled, “if I were, you’d be better behaved!”
She blinked her eyes up at him, “Yes Daddy.”
“Oh Hell, who am I kidding? You’d have me wrapped around your finger.”
Chapter Five
Ell looked around the table at her D5R researchers. Another meeting, another set of frustrating results. “Roger, what about your idea to use nanotubes for an intermediate path to making our ports?”
He shook his head dispiritedly, “We entangled some nanotubes but they have to be moved much slower than buckyballs if you don’t want to break the enta
nglement. It would slightly speed up the creation of a 10mm port from doing the whole thing with buckyballs. But each port would still take months. Sorry.”
Ell tried not to let her disappointment show. “Any other ideas?” she asked with a perky tone.
Stavos said, “We should go out.”
Ell tilted her head, “Out?”
“Yeah, socialize. Get to know each other away from here. Think about something else besides work.”
Ell’s first thought was surprise that he thought of it as work, doing what you loved. Well, what she loved. Though she loved research, maybe the rest of the team did think of it as a job? She knew first hand that research was fun when you were getting results—not so much when results were few and far between. In fact, maybe she liked science, not slogging away at the research end of it. “Sounds good!” Ell tried to keep some sparkle in her voice. It frequently surprised her to be nineteen and have these older people looking to her for leadership, but she recognized that she was their leader, no matter how unexpected it may be. “What do you suggest?”
“Sports bar, tomorrow night.”
Ell looked around the table seeing ambivalence, or at best small amounts of enthusiasm, but she didn’t have any better ideas. “OK!” she said keeping an enthusiastic tone, “Tomorrow night. Ben to pick the bar, D5R to pick up the tab, fun to be had by all!”
***
Washington D.C.—Critics of NASA are lining up to say “I told you so,” in regards to NASA’s decision to move quickly to the ill fated Vulcan 5 rockets. Steven Esklund has begun demanding that the “ancient” International Space Station be abandoned once the current astronauts have been safely rescued. “It has been up there far longer than its expected lifespan anyway. We have no business putting people up there into harms way to do things that can be done by robotic entities.”
“The new PGR chips make remotely operated telepresence the obvious method to further space science…”
Allan, Ell’s AI spoke in her ear, “You have a call from Phillip Zabrisk.”