~

Chapter Forty-one

~

My Ride Share driver of a reasonable-lookin’ OM SUV gave us a loopy grin. He wore a multi-pastel-colored knitted thin’ on his head that drooped over both ears, a windbreaker so yellow it hurt my eyes. I told him to follow the first vehicle that pulled out onto the highway behind us.

He quirked me a look one would expect for that kind of direction, but didn’t argue. He asked if we’d come in that “weird chopper” sittin’ in the field. I said yep, and he rambled a bit like trolls do, about how cool it looked.

The trip took a lot longer than I expected, and I worried the driver would say he wasn’t up to that kind of range, so before he could get too bent out of shape I handed him a gold coin for a tip. His eyes got really big and he called me boss. Must be a Northern thin’. He laughed a few times about bein’ escorted by a dozen police cars front and rear. It was a first.

Hopefully for his sake, it would be the last, too.

By this time I feared we were bein’ served up for a prison somewhere, but the hospital name over the parkin’ garage entrance settled me a little bit. The entire hour Nuel sat next to me like a salt pillar. Guess she saved her energy for all the translatin’ she expected.

I don’t know if it’s customary, but the troll shook my hand before I got out of his car. Maybe it was the three ounces of gold. Or the excitement of his extraordinary escort.

We were whooshed to the top floor of the hospital, to a conference room not a jail cell. On one side of the long room, windows filled floor to ceilin’ with a great view of the city. Downtown with all the really tall buildin’s lay maybe three miles to the east. View didn’t excite me.

Meh. A breeze fluffin’ the tall grass on the Plain would be a better view any day. Any peak in the Range ten times better.

There were more humans in the sixty-foot-long room than I bothered to count. But four-fifths of ’em wore either police or military duds. There were a lot of long-guns hangin’ from shoulders. They were clearly makin’ a statement. I figgered the statement was, “Look at us, we’re idjits.” The eyes of ’em totin’ ’em beaded wide open, never veered from either me or Nuel.

Never been studied like a frog in freshman biology before.

I’d never before noticed humans like to huddle, heads close, whisperin’ so much, either. If not a cultural thin’, they still kept it goin’ for thirty minutes. It was the pinheads in suits doin’ that. What could be so important and take so long to communicate? They glanced a me and Nuel a lot. Maybe expected we’d complain, or somethin’. Begin spoutin’ somethin’ important. I doubted much of anythin’ important or intelligent was ever gonna come out of my mouth today.

I certainly didn’t have anythin’ important in mind, at the moment. Not bein’ a strategic thinker, I must be here to act tactically. I’m pretty good at reactin’ to thin’s. Ike didn’t give me much of a meanin’full direction after all. A familiar situation. Maybe, he gives me more credit than I deserve.

Nuel glanced my way a lot too. Maybe she was surprised I hadn’t said a word yet. The only thin’ I wanted to say, was their stupid human-sized chairs were tremendously uncomfortable. Way too snug on the hips, cut into my lower back. What, they didn’t own any chairs for giant folk?

I finally closed my eyes to all the whisperin’. Pretty sure I dozed off. Had a good excuse. Hadn’t slept much last night. I’m also pretty sure I had pleasant thoughts about Zia.

She is so sweet. So beautiful. So look forward to holdin’ her tight again.

Nuel elbowed me, and I drew open my eyes. There were no longer any folks in the room wearing business suits. Just three of the men with those guns hangin’ from their shoulders. Though I sensed there were more of ’em in the hallway.

I asked Nuel, “What’d I miss.”

“Did ya really fall asleep?”

“Hmm. I guess I did. Where’d everyone go?”

“They chatted amongst ’emselves a while, then wandered out.”

Odd.

I stood to let the blood flow to my butt. Boy did that excite the three humans carryin’ the guns. I ignored ’em. I knew what they were shoutin’, so ignored Nuel’s translation, and her recommendation that I should probably listen to ’em. Meh. I walked to the windows and peered about.

Thankfully I haven’t had to travel north often. First time, when I presented my doctoral thesis to a bunch of pointy heads from some institution who couldn’t understand my basic tenets, and a few dozen times supportin’ OW marketin’ folks.

Important people seem to think they have to meet the big guns before they’ll consider a product worth their time. All that bein’ said—didn’t really care for the view today.

One of ’em humans had decided it made sense to get in my face with his long-gun. I glared at him so long he eventually swallowed hard, and backed away. I told him that was wise. Funny. Nuel didn’t translate.

So that’s how it’s gonna be.

I paced back and forth the next ten minutes, hands clasped behind my back, only because it worried the three humans so much. A couple of ’em had ants in their pants. By that time I was motivated to get into their heads—not subtly.

Have I ever met a subtle ogre?

I paced across in front of ’em. Really beaded the sweat on their brows. What helped make me smile inside was one of ’em whispered to the others that I had been the one on the news that broke up that team on the South Plain. Who knew I’m gettin’ as famous as Ike.

That could be bad.

Finally three folks in suits reentered the room. By the commotion, I could definitely sense a larger army gatherin’ outside in the hall—pretty sure they were gonna move us somewhere I didn’t want to go. None of the three suits were part of the human negotiatin’ team. I’ve been around enough attorneys in my career to recognize they were all lackeys.

Whatever the game, these idjits believed they had the upper hand. I strolled meanin’fully toward ’em. They took a few brisk steps back, right into their protectors. I kept goin’. The three guards hurried to spread out. But my interest wasn’t in ’em.

I got to the doorway and slammed the side of my fist into the top of the jamb, dentin’ it good. It hurt. Ouch. But it accomplished what I wanted.

An alarm blared. I recognized the warnin’, since I selected it. Level one. What we coded into the OW’s security protocol, as the doors I stood in front of screeched closed. Up and down the hall I could hear doors slammin’ shut a little bit more smoothly, considering their jambs weren’t angled awkwardly now. Humans can sound awfully fearful when they scream. There was a lot of that.

“What the dragon pooh?” Nuel screeched. The six humans inside the conference room were doin’ their own screechin’. I ’bout pulled a muscle workin’ not to laugh out loud. Mostly because I was so proud of our OW software. It worked. A lot of folk were concerned the OI sensors would be a failure point.

I explained to Nuel before she passed out. “The North has had a problem with anarchists for two decades.” She should know that. “We sold ’em software to counter a bomb threat. I instigated a lock down protocol. Everythin’s shut down tight on this floor now.”

“What’s he sayin’?” one of the lackeys screamed at Nuel.

One of the guard-guys must have overcome his initial shock, ’cause he was now raisin’ his gun. Unfortunate for him, I was close enough to rip it out of his hands, and threw it at the next idjit who was emergin’ from his own shock, catchin’ him with a glancing blow to the shoulder, but a solid blow to the side of the head.

Nuel, bless her heart, caught the third with a backhand that carried him across the room, strikin’ the wall hard enough to make every connected surface of the room rattle. Several light coverin’s tumbled from the ceilin’ competin’ with the alarm to make the biggest din. Cracks spider webbed across the surface of the wall and the enormous paintin’ hangin’ there dropped to the floor with a kerplunk, plunk, plish.

We must have all been watchin’ the blood pour out of that guy’s head, the one Nuel backhanded. ’Cause when I turned back to the guy I disarmed, he jolted, eyes open wide, and held up his hands, shakin’ his head. I held out my hand. He looked confused a second I think, so I pointed at the automatic on his hip. He nodded, withdrew it slowly and handed it to me.

I told him to take a seat and make himself comfortable. Nuel translated the first part. One of the lackeys was checkin’ on the first guy that hit the floor. He gagged. Maybe the dent in the side of the man’s head didn’t look very attractive. I found myself shruggin’.

And then it got better. The irritatin’ alarm changed to the level two version, and I really started laughin’ my skinny ogre butt off.

“What? What? What?” Nuel screeched.

The alarm shouldn’t have been a surprise. Jam’s a cop. Was a cop. Not just a street cop. He was up in the hierarchy, well trained and educated—he would have known. And he was indeed in this hospital—whatever the Northerners agenda, they had taken us where they said they would.

Jam took advantage of our software and triggered a second event. Clearly he had to be on a separate floor. A patient floor, still—we’d heard he’d been shot a few times. The entire hospital was now lockin’ down, and every fire prevention device in key locations in the joint would be makin’ it hard for folks to breathe if they got stuck in the wrong room.

I couldn’t stop laughin’.

Nuel was still screechin’ at me. As though the alarm blarin’ wasn’t annoyin’ enough.

A third event and every fire sprinkler would spout, the electricity would be cut, and wire-line and cell communication would be interrupted. Be fun to see if that third-party hardware worked.

I design awesome software. Don’t tell me I don’t. OI manufactures great devices. Employs great engineers.

To shut Nuel up, I gave her a quick summary as I pulled out my cell, fast, just in case Jam decided to trip a third event somehow. Though I couldn’t figger how he’d do that. Once his floor was locked down he wasn’t gettin’ to another where it would work. Oh. He’s a troll. He could go through a concrete wall.

“Hey,” Ike said. “What’s all the noise?”

“Ya might want to start implementin’ some of yar real convincin’,” I said.

“Naw. Really? Already? I’d hoped to avoid that.”

I apologized. “Ya know I’m not that patient. Maybe ya should have gotten yar pa to come. But these folks decided to pull a fast one. Don’t know what they thought they’d accomplish. But ya oughta maybe put the fear of the gods in ’em. ’Cause I don’t think subtle will work.”

Ike sighed, deep and long, before he hung up.

Ike never told me that he had a plan B. But I know Ike as well as I know myself, so there were gonna be plan C and Ds. Maybe to H. He has an active mind. For a basketball player.

Nuel glared at me, jaw hung loose. I offered her a shrug.

“What’s happening?” the lackey who I think had started to tell us we were gonna be transported somewhere for, “our own safety,” asked.

I ignored him. If Nuel wanted to she could let him in on the excitement. I walked over to the windows to watch Ike’s majic.

~

Nuel

~

I had never experienced the urge to pee without really needin’ to pee before. It’s an uncomfortable sensation. The alarms hurt my ears. The three attorney types were in worse shape than me. I don’t know how that idjit Kriz could be so relaxed, laughin’ his stupid butt off like a fool.

When he pulled out his cell I feared I might have to fling another man through a wall, the one shoutin’ at Kriz, no, no, like he’s our boss or somethin’. Hadn’t we shown ’em they aren’t? Clearly his folks had lost control of the situation.

Kriz rolled one of those stinkin’ skinny-butt chairs next to the windows and got as comfortable as he could for some kind of show. Don’t know what. He even settled his hairy ogre feet up on the glass, ankles crossed, hands clasped behind his head.

Before the lawyers found a modicum of tusks, I walked over and found all the guns, and bent the barrels about forty-five degrees. Pretty sure if they were fired now, wouldn’t be good for the idjit firin’ it. The military guy gagged a little.

I asked Kriz, “What’d ya mean by real convincin’?”

He shrugged. I refused to ask him again.

A moment later lights in the adjacent buildin’s flicked off. In the distance the same could be made out everywhere, despite it bein’ near midday. Kriz leaned forward and looked down, so I did the same. All the traffic below sat frozen. So the traffic lights had gone out. No. I looked up a ways. They had electricity.

“Every signal will be solid red,” Kriz said.

That was almost funnier than no lights. That part of the infrastructure was on a different grid, yet the mechanisms had also been compromised.

“OW software,” Kriz said.

Hmm.

“I always wondered,” Kriz said softly, “why Ike sold those systems almost at the cost of a single maintenance cycle, here in the North.”

I laughed hard. Had to.

“What’d he say?” one of the lawyer idjits asked.

Neither of us looked his way.

I noticed Kriz’ hand was turnin’ purple. “Oh, jeez. I think ya broke yar wrist.”

He let his grip go and checked out the hand, the one he must have struck the steel door frame with. And grimaced. “Did ya have to mention it? Now it’s gonna hurt.”

The idjit has some serious tusks, after all.

We sat listening to the din makin’ it up from the street seven stories below. Folk grew more irritated. Maybe the psychology of red lights versus darkened lights added to it.

My phone rang. Barely heard it over the still-blarin’ alarm. Ike. Not callin’ the idjit with tusks. I answered with a hey.

“Ya have streamin’ on yar phone?” he asked.

Duh. “Yeah.”

“By the way, how ya doin’?”

I thought of his favorite cliche. Seemed apropos. “Dandy. Why’re ya—”

“ONN is givin’ a better status of what’s goin’ on than I could give ya.”

Oh. I guess Kriz could hear Ike, because he was pullin’ his phone out and clickin’ whatever app he uses. Frankly I was surprised the one-dimensional fool has ever watched news in his life.

Oh. So glad Wizper will never know that thought crossed my brain.

Jeez. Ike hung up without another word of encouragement.

On Ike’s phone, an attractive hen showin’ a lot of bosom discussed some kind of naval embargo-thin’. Of the North? She started over again before it started to click.

On the next cycle I learned that the North had positioned its Navy at all the South’s eastern, southern, and western ports, but the Southern Coast Guard was strollin’ on board every Northern ship, takin’ over.

Evidently, pretty much nothin’ but trolls work in the Northern shippin’ yards. Everythin’ on the ships had clicked off. A Navy with an off switch. That is funny. I snorted so hard I worried I might harm my sinuses.

An off switch! That would really be bad for an air force.

Just the fear should keep ’em from puttin’ a plane in the air. I’d guess.

The bosomy hen went on to state there was initial small arms engagement, until our Coast Guard sent a missile into a con tower. Ouch. Hard way to learn, don’t mess with trolls.

Ha. Ms Bosoms said the same thin’ as I had the thought.

I had been so engrossed I hadn’t noticed the three suits leaned over, watching the stream. A few groans came from ’em.

The reporter went on to discuss how infrastructure all across the North was dark. Their stock exchange value overseas tanked already, and countries overseas were recallin’ their ambassadors.

“Why hadn’t they done that a long time ago?” Kris mumbled. “Not like they don’t have their own population of giants grumblin’ about the racism over here.”

“They have their own racism goin’ on,” I said.

He nodded.

“I thought you didn’t speak Standish?” a suit asked.

We ignored him.