Quicker

by Laurence Dahners

  Ell, on the other hand, had been a quandary for the Academies. She was underage and their lower age limit for admission was supposed to be inviolate. However, recruiters had been very excited about her math abilities. Then they had heard about her phenomenal scores on a reaction time test. They had offered to guarantee admission if she’d wait until she was “of age” but she’d refused. Then the honorable Senator Lloyd Danbridge of North Carolina, who’d put her up for admission, had raised a stink. The Air Force Academy had finally agreed to make an exception in her case, as long as she kept her age a secret from other cadets. After all, she would be of age by the time she graduated and started full active duty. Nonetheless she had to pass the physmed testing like everyone else or she wouldn’t be allowed in. Ell worried a lot because they required that she be able to run a mile in under seven minutes and despite her superb athletic abilities in quick reaction time sports, she was terrible at anything that required endurance.

  In any case, while Phil stood there in his shorts being poked and prodded by the medicos, his mind wasn’t really on what they were doing. Completely confident that he would pass physmed, he was doing a little girl watching on the women who were also there to be tested. Ell was three people ahead of him in line. He noticed her because she had a “fine looking bod.” She was above average in height and slender, but muscularly very well defined. He smirked to himself, thinking that she’d probably wasted a lot of effort getting herself into condition for this test in the vain hope that it would help with an appointment. Nonetheless, she looked good from behind and he surely appreciated the view. When she turned his way at one point he realized that her face had a simple and elegant beauty. That girl is hot! he thought to himself.

  At one of the testing stations, the screen displayed the entire list of applicants snaking their way through and by counting up three names he was able to determine that she was “Donsaii, Ell.” The examiners hadn’t taken the testee’s electronics away from them at that point so he simply queried his AI about her. In a few seconds “Chuck” began whispering in his ear. “She doesn’t have a very big presence on the public net. She grew up in Morehead City, down at the North Carolina coast. Only child of a widowed mother. Father and grandfather owned a fishing boat that sank with both aboard; mother currently works as a teacher in the winter, waitress in the summer. Went to public schools. Very good grades, played on several athletic teams, usually the star of the team. Probably a very well qualified applicant who could truly benefit from a low cost education.”

  With those genes she might make a good noncom, Phil thought to himself.

  The next place Phil’s mind went was even lower. He decided that a small town girl, with great legs, whom he was never going to see again, made a perfect candidate for the “Zabrisk charm.” He asked Chuck to look up her accomplishments on the net and focused on the fact that she had been a pitcher on the State Championship softball team from her high school.

  Later, Phil happened to see the girls do their one mile run and with surprise saw that, though she looked muscular and in shape, she came in dead last. He wondered if she’d even made it by the seven minute maximum? As they wound through the interminable afternoon of strength, quickness, and reaction time testing and then got their blood drawn for genetic analysis, he saw her here and there and ran through a few “lines” in his head. He kept a close eye on her and, when they hit the showers, he hustled his so that he could be out before she was. He figured he’d have plenty of time—the women he’d known were usually slow getting dressed. However, despite hurrying he almost missed her—she was walking out of the building when he left the changing room. He jogged a few steps to catch up and said, “Ell Donsaii?” She turned with a curious look on her face. My God, he thought, she’s really gorgeous! “Did you play softball for West Carteret? I saw your name ahead of mine on the lists in the test center. A buddy of mine who’s a softball fan went on and on about watching ‘Ell Donsaii from Morehead City’ play in the State championship. He said she was an incredible player and I just wondered if you were the same Ell Donsaii.”

  She broke open a big smile of full lips and straight white teeth when she replied, “Yes, I was on the team,” a crease developed between her eyebrows, “but I was just one of the players. Softball’s a team effort you know.”

  Bingo, he thought to himself. Nothing like a little stroke to go to a girl’s head. “Well that’s not the way he told it. Weren’t you the pitcher? And batted in a couple of runs? He made it seem like you were the only one on the team.” he gave a sidelong glance at her cute pixie-like nose, “Or maybe he just couldn’t take his eyes off such a great looking girl?” She actually blushed! “No, really,” he said, “Joe told me so many tales about your play that I really do think he was watching the way you played, not just watching you.”

  Despite her blush, her grin got even bigger and a little lopsided as she looked up at Phil. He was tall and handsome in a big, blond, square jawed, muscular Viking kind of way, “Are you trying to pick me up?” she grinned. Her green eyes flashed and she looked positively delighted. “No one’s ever tried to pick me up before!”

  Most kids Phil’s age probably would have been embarrassed at having been caught out in a transparent attempt, but not Phil. It just reinforced his opinion that she was a naive small town hick, ripe for the plucking. He ducked his head and scuffed his toe, trying to look a little embarrassed. “Yeah, you just look so pretty. I was hoping I could buy you a coffee.”

  She looked positively radiant. “Sure, that’d be fun. Want to walk down to Franklin Street? We could take in a little Tar Heel history.”

  “Sure,” they headed that way. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She walked with an easy grace on legs that seemed impossibly long and slender for her height. Reddish blond hair, wavy and thick bounced silkily just above her shoulders. Wow, what a looker, he thought to himself. And such a small town nerd. His confidence that he could sweep her off her feet grew.

  They stopped in an old Seattle Coffee shop and sat at the counter. Phil drew her out—on the theory than nothing impresses a woman more than a good listener. She told him about the small high school she attended and shrugged off her athletic accomplishments as due to the small conference they competed in. Her mom “worked hard but wouldn’t be able to send her to college” so a Service Academy education looked like a great deal to her. She “sure hoped” that she’d get into one of them. He nodded through the recital, waiting impatiently as dusk slowly fell and pondering his chances to score. Realistically, he thought his chances weren’t very good having just met this small town girl but who knows? A little fling in the big city, maybe?

  Eventually it was fairly dark out. “Oh! Look it’s gotten pretty dim out there. Can I walk you back to your car?”

  Guilelessly, “Oh I can find it, no problem.”

  “Ah but this is the ‘big city.’ A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t walk around alone after dark.” Phil wondered a moment if he’d laid it on too thick, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “That’s sweet. Sure.”

  They set off at a leisurely pace, he hoping her car would be parked near some halfway romantic location and becoming delighted as they neared a landmark. “Hey, there’s the Old Well. Want to go make a wish?”

  “OK”

  Soon he had her beside him on the bench in front of the well, talking about the Old Well and how she’d love to be able to afford to go to Carolina. He snuck a hand behind her and onto her shoulder. She turned with another lopsided grin, “Are you tryin’ to get fresh?”

  “I just can’t help myself, you’ve really affected me.”

  “Oh, you’re sweet.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “But we’d better get going.” She said bouncing to her feet.

  “Aww.” But he got up with her and they headed for her car. She let him put his arm back around her shoulder as they walked and he marveled at how great it felt as her firm hip bumped against his thigh occasionally. To his delig
ht, her car was parked in a dimly lit corner of the lot. He let her open her door and then snuggled in for a kiss.

  She turned her head aside. “Thanks for the coffee, but I don’t know you well enough for this.”

  “Oh, come one. Just one little kiss.”

  She leaned back with a shy grin on her face and looked him in the eye, “Nope, maybe we’ll get to know each other better if we both get into the same academy?”

  That reminded him that he was never going to see her again. He got a firmer grip on her shoulder and turned her toward him, leaning in harder. “Oh, come on.”

  “I said no!” Ell felt her heart pounding and her world started to slow down. Her gut clenched as she realized what was happening to her. She was falling into her “fight or flight” zone. Something bad could happen!

  Phil mistook her tone for intimidated fear and thought she was about to buckle. He exerted just a little bit more of the power that had won him so many wrestling matches, drawing her closer.

  “Stop!” Her hand swung back with a little handbag in it.

  He pulled a little harder, laughing inside at the thought of being hit by a purse - right up to the moment it exploded against the side of his face. He staggered back and, though he never saw it coming, a second blast of agony came from his crotch. To his dismay he found himself writhing on the ground, curled about his ravished groin, holding his face, unable to breath. Waves of agony pulsed slowly through him.

  Dimly, he expected her to jump in her car and leave. Instead, she leaned down next to him saying, “Oh my God! Phil! I’m so sorry! But you scared me! Oh! You look pretty bad.” he heard her talking and realized she was calling for an ambulance! His first reaction was that that was ridiculous; he’d just been slapped in the face with a purse and kicked in the nuts! By a girl! He’d be fine. Surely, he’d be fine? But his body was telling him differently. To his dismay, he felt like he really did need a doctor. He rolled to his side and threw up his coffee. He was in so much pain he didn’t consider the fact that the police would be interested in the events leading up to his injury. When the ambulance arrived, he tried but couldn’t stand up by himself and to his humiliation; they loaded him on a stretcher like a sack of potatoes. Before the ambulance left for the hospital, the police had arrived and relieved him of his AI. Dimly he heard Ell telling them, “I’m so sorry. He just wanted a kiss. But he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer! I’m so, so sorry. He just seemed so strong. I was really scared.”

  “So what happened then?”

  “I hit him with my purse.”

  “You hit him with your purse!?” The voice was bemused. “And that laid him out like this?”

  “Well I hit him really hard. I didn’t want to hit him that hard, but I overreacted. Then when he stepped back, I kicked him in the crotch. I really, really shouldn’t have done that ‘cause he’d already let go of me. But he was so strong - I was afraid that he might keep coming after me.”

  “You hit him with your purse and you kicked him in the nuts? – Then you called him an ambulance!?” The voice was astonished now.

  “Well, I’d kicked him awfully hard and he seemed to be having trouble breathing and he threw up. Really, I think he’s a nice guy who just got a little out of control.”

  “A nice guy who was a ‘little out of control’? I can’t wait to download the records on this!”

  Phil was feeling even sicker inside as the doors of the ambulance closed. When the police downloaded the records out of his and Ell’s AIs, he was going to look pretty bad. With a sinking feeling, he considered the possibility that this event could even keep him out of an academy. He didn’t consider the fact that an assault or attempted rape conviction might have worse ramifications than being dropped off the academy admission lists.

  Zabrisk spent hours in the Emergency department where they told him that Donsaii’s “purse” had broken the bony “zygomatic arch” in his cheek, but that the fracture wasn’t far enough out of place to require surgery. They also told him that there was significant “hemorrhage” in his scrotum but that there wasn’t really any treatment for it. Ice and pain medication would be his friends for the next 72 hours.

  “Officer?” he heard his doctor say, just after stepping outside the curtain of his cubicle. “What’s the story on how this guy got hurt?”

  “Girl hit him with her purse doc.” There was a snigger in the policeman’s voice.

  “Come on! Did she have a brick in it?”

  “Not near as we can tell. This here is the purse. Couldn’t even fit a brick inside a little bitty thing like that.”

  “This girl on steroids or what?”

  “Honest, doc, she’s five foot seven, five eight, maybe 120 pounds. All girl. Really, really cute.”

  “Come on! This guy’s what, 210, and in shape? Sure she didn’t drug him, then run over him with a car?”

  “Doc, the whole deal’s recorded on their AIs. He tries to kiss her, she says ‘No’. He tries again, she hits him with her purse. ‘Boom!’ She kick him inna nuts. ‘Boom’ again! He fall down, he puke, he gasp for breath. I shit you not.”

  Even though he’d lived through it, the whole story sounded implausible to Phil too. How could it have happened?

  Before he left the ER the policeman came in to talk to him with a smirk on his face. “Next time a lady says ‘No’ Zabrisk, I trust you’ll respect her wishes?”

  “Yes sir.” he was sullen inside but all respect on the outside. “Nothing like this will ever happen again sir.” He had to get this guy on his side. Phil desperately tried to think of extenuating circumstances that might diminish her charges.

  “Well, you’re a very lucky boy – despite my encouragement that she do so, she’s not pressing charges.” He handed Chuck back to him and Phil tried to put the AI’s headset back on his head. Chuck’s frame was so bent it wouldn’t even go on his head! Phil settled for hanging the frame over the belt pack. “I’d encourage you to look at the record your AI made of the evening’s events.” The policeman’s eyebrows waggled, “You’ll be surprised.”

  At that point, Phil couldn’t imagine what could be surprising about the record, other than the fact that it recorded his two hundred twenty pound ass getting whipped by a hundred twenty pound girl. However, he was determined to act like a citizen. “Yes Sir.” Inside, he was greatly relieved about the lack of charges against him; at least his chances of an academy appointment should remain intact. Briefly, he was a little bit grateful to her. But as he got up off the bed and found out just how agonizing the next few days were going to be, a wave of hatred rushed over him for what she had done to him.

  Phil rode home with a bag of ice in his crotch, glad that the car’s AI meant he didn’t have to actually drive. Even though the AI drove, the ride was another crappy experience with each bump and corner eliciting stabs of agony from his crotch. He groaned up the steps to the house, commiserating with himself and found to his dismay that his folks were waiting up to find out how he thought he’d done at the Physmed testing! For God’s sake how could they worry about that, the shape I’m in?

  “Hey Phil, how’d it go… Jeez, what happened to you?!”

  He leaned up against the doorframe, standing as straight as he could. Briefly, he considered trying to tell the truth. Nah…

  “It went good but I slipped in the showers after the testing and blasted my face into a shower handle. Can you believe it?!” He started up the stairs to his room.

  “Why are you limping?”

  “I did the splits when I fell. Pulled my groin. I’ll be OK—eventually. I’m hittin’ the rack, OK?” he limped on up to his room where he was astonished to see his face in the mirror. It was black and blue from his hairline to the jaw line on the left side, to say nothing of the puffy swelling that distorted the shape of his head. When he got his pants down, his nuts were black and blue and three times as big as they normally were. The way they felt, that hardly surprised him.

  He crashed onto the bed and straig
htened Chuck’s frame enough to get the headset back on his head. He asked Chuck to pull up the record of the bitch’s attack and display it for him on his HUD. Phil looked up into the screens hanging over his eyes and saw Ell’s face projected back in front of him, looking just like she had out there by her car. To his surprise, he noticed that she actually did look pretty frightened as he tried to pull her closer. Why would a little kiss scare her so badly? Her right hand with the little leather purse in it swung backward into the view from the camera as she wound up. Then it disappeared. Static streaked the screens as the electronics dealt with the blow in their own way. The world turned topsy-turvy and bobbled, evidently as he had staggered back. His head had dropped some and Chuck’s frame was tilted on his head so the screens showed Ell’s legs at an oblique angle. He thought once again about how great they looked. One leg swung back and then blurred toward him. The view slammed drunkenly into the ground to show nothing but pavement. But the audio record rolled on. For a few seconds Ell said “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod” then, just like he remembered, she apologized to him.

  Next she had her AI contact 911 and asked for an ambulance.

  He still couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. “Chuck, run that back and give me a frame by frame for a couple seconds before she hit me.” It didn’t look like she was doing anything to prepare her purse before she hit him. Though the purse itself was out of Chuck’s field of view, her shoulders didn’t move like she was doing anything with her hands and she certainly didn’t talk to her AI. When the purse came into view it didn’t look bulky, as if she had a rock or anything in it. Just a small leather purse, a little bigger than her hand. At the top of its arc, he saw her fingers all disappear behind it. It wasn’t like she was using it for extra weight—she was using it to protect her hand, like a boxing glove! There were only two frames in the video once her hand started to move toward his head and they were extremely blurred by motion artifact. Phil lay there in amazement, pondering what he had just witnessed. He tried having Chuck make a record of him swinging his hands as fast as he could—he couldn’t swing his hand fast enough to generate that much motion artifact! How had she done that?