Accidental Creatures (7 page)

She heard the tearing of paper, and then Mavi reapplied bandages, and helped her onto her back again, and not once, during any of it, did she say anything about a second pair of arms. oOo

Chango walked up the rickety steps of Hyper’s house and leaned against the screen door, shading her eyes with one hand so she could see inside. Squinting she surveyed the dim interior of the first floor. Hyper had gutted the place after his folks died; knocking down walls and taking out the front two thirds of the upstairs, leaving only a small room above the kitchen where he slept, when he slept. Four metal tables stood bolted to the floor where the dining room had been, heaped with machine and electrical parts. The front part of the house was a maze of books, magazines and holocubes. And above it all hung the archives of Hyper’s past interests. He’d laid steel girders across the rafters, and every time he completed or tired of a project, up it went. Old model airplanes and boats spun lazily in the occasional breeze, along with automated kites, walker robots, rebuilt text processors and a chemistry set.

“Hey, you home?” she called, her lips brushing against the rusting screen. Hyper looked up from behind an enormous old cathode ray monitor squatting on the floor by the front windows. He had gutted it and was now putting it back together. His brick-brown skin glowed with perspiration. It wasn’t all that warm a day, but Hyper always ran hot. “Chango, c’mon in sister dear, check this out.” He waved her in with one hand as he worked an electric screwdriver with the other. She slid in the door and locked it behind her. “You shouldn’t leave your door open,” she said.

“Oh, I forgot. C’mere,” he gestured for her to sit beside him on the floor. His skinny legs stuck out from paisley boxer shorts that were too big for him. His long toes splayed among screws and transistor chips. The shorts and a faded, stained t-shirt were all he wore except for a head mounted holotransceiver perching atop his skull like a small black brain parasite, secured by a thin band across his forehead and over his ears. The imaging lens which hung down over his right eye reflected a miniature circuit diagram. To Hyper, it would appear larger, hanging in the air two feet in front of his face. His eyes darted from it to the tube while his fingers sorted feverishly through chips and wires.

“Can you hand me that scissors?” he asked, nodding to the graphite shears by her knee as he uncoiled a length of fiber cable.

“What are you doing?” she asked, handing him the shears.

“If I install an optical receiver in this thing and connect that to a quad board I can program it to display raw visuals in real time. I want to mount it on that go-cart chassis over there, give it infrared and motion sensors and let it follow people around and imitate them. Robo-Mime.”

“God, what a pain in the ass,” said Chango.

Hyper glanced at her grinning, “Love those nuisance machines,” he said. He fastened a connector clamp onto the end of the fiber cable and turned to face her. “So, how'd it go?“ he asked, ”I missed you last night at Josa's."

Chango shrugged, “There were complications.” She handed him the swiper containing the codes she’d scanned the day before.

Hyper’s dark brown eyes widened, “Complications? But you weren't arrested.”

“No, not those kinds of complications. At least not yet. I scanned this woman, I thought she was armed,” Chango laughed weakly. “When I tried to give her back her card, she bolted. I followed her, and she got jumped in an alley. Turns out she's a sport. She was hurt pretty bad, so I took her to Mavi's.”

“You got pretty involved with a failed mark, didn't you?” Hyper said softly, his gaze upon the circuit map only he could see.

“Hyper, she was really hurt. One of her assailants had a knife. What was I supposed to do, leave her to die?”

“Why did you follow her in the first place?”

Chango shrugged, searching for an answer. “When I bumped her, and then tried to give her card back, she freaked. She ran, scared! I was... curious.”

“You said she was packin'. She shoot any of those guys?”

“No she wasn't. I thought she had a shotgun, but it wasn't — it was one of her arms. She's got four.” Hyper whistled, “Functional?”

“Yeah! Fully developed, fully functional.”

“Wow, impressive.”

“See? I couldn't let the sister die.”

“Yeah, I guess I can see that. You give her card back, then, or what?”

“No, I didn't,” Chango reached into her pocket and pulled out the plastic square. “But get this,” she handed it to Hyper, “it isn’t even a cash card. It’s data.” Hyper glanced at it. “What's its encryption signature?”

“I don't know, It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Hmm.” He flipped it between his fingers thoughtfully and held it up to the light. A faint pattern glimmered on its surface, and then, as he tilted it just right, bloomed into a hologram. Spiraling curves of burning, electric green wrapping around one another, just discernible as an S enfolded within a stylized G. GeneSys.

Hyper glanced at her, one eyebrow cocked. “Mind if I keep this and look at it later, when I’m done with Robo-Mime?” he asked.

“I don’t know, what if she wants it back?”

“Then I’ll give it back.”

Chango shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

oOo

Chango nudged Mavi’s screen door open with one toe and slid through, dumping the hemp fiber grocery bags on the kitchen table.

Mavi was at the stove, whispering over a simmering saucepan. The roiling steam perfumed the kitchen with sage and goldenseal. Her words faded, and she looked over to see Chango. “You bought groceries.”

“Yep.” Chango reached inside one of the sacks and drew out a package of spaghetti. “‘Pasta a la me’,”

she said with a flourish of the box. She drew out three eggs and juggled them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, she cooks, she climbs, she produces groceries out of thin air, she’s Changini the miraculous.” Mavi pawed through the bags, “how did you get all this stuff?”

Chango took a bowl down from the shelf over the sink and cracked the eggs into it. “Through the idleness of fools.”

“So that’s what you were doing in Greektown last night,” said Mavi returning to her mixture on the stove.

“What else?”

“Oh, I don’t know, show girls, maybe?”

Chango snorted, stirring the eggs with a fork. “What would give you that idea?”

“Your friend.”

She laughed, “Oh no. No. A dancing girl afraid to show her body? I think not. Mavi, you’ve got to get out more.”

“Then how did you happen upon her?”

Chango shrugged uncomfortably and began beating the eggs with a fork. “Actually, I’d been following her.”

“Following her? But she’s not a show girl.”

“Would you stop? Jeez, I can’t perform an act of good samaritanism without you trying to turn it into some tawdry little scenario.”

“I know you, Chango. Why were you following her?”

“When I tapped her for her cash card, she freaked out and ran. I was curious. There was something about the way she looked. She was terrified. Now I know why. She told me she hasn’t let anyone but her father see what she is for the past ten years.”

“Oh my goddess, that's... that’s weird.”

“Yeah. If she goes out, she wears the raincoat. I guess I brushed against her arm when I tapped her, she felt it. She thought I knew.”

“Does she know you followed her?”

“No, apparently not.”

“Then I take it you haven’t returned her cash card,” said Mavi, pouring her tincture into a jar.

“Well, that’s a bit awkward, isn’t it?” Chango put the dripping fork in the sink. “‘Oh yes, I’m glad I could help you, and by the way, here’s something I stole from you.’ No, besides, it isn’t a cash card. It’s data, from GeneSys.”

Amber tinted liquid spilled on the stove. Mavi set the pan down and looked at her. “GeneSys?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s hers.”

oOo

That night Chango brought her spaghetti in bed. Helix sat up, bolstered by pillows. She kept her lower hands under the afghan, balancing her plate in them and wielding a spoon and fork in her upper hands. Chango sat cross-legged at the other end of the bed, holding her plate in her lap.

“So, do you live here?” asked Helix around a mouthful of food.

“Not really,” Chango shrugged. “Sort of. I stay here a lot, and sometimes I sleep in my car, or at another friend’s house.”

“Oh,” Helix nodded, trying to think of something else to say. “So how did you find me?” she asked. Chango stopped chewing and stared at her. “I followed you.”

“Followed me?”

“Yeah, you’re going to find out about it soon enough anyway. No one around here can keep their mouth shut. I followed you from the casino because I’d been-I’d been trying to scan you.”

“Scan me?”

“Yeah, you know, rip off the code for your cash card. Brokers pay good money for those codes.”

“Oh. But I don’t have a cash card.”

“Yeah, I know now, but I didn’t then. When I tried to flush you for your uh, wallet, I brushed one of your arms, one of the lower ones, remember?”

Helix remembered going inside the casino to get out of the rain, and then being overwhelmed by the crowd. She remembered the touch against her arm that had frightened her, and then that sharp little face, saying something to her as she fled.

“It was you,” she said. “You’re the one who touched me.”

“Yeah, and you freaked out. It made me curious, so I followed you.” Chango was watching her anxiously, as if she feared her reaction to this news.

“So I owe my life to the fact that you tried to rip me off, huh?” Helix smiled. “Thanks.”

Chango laughed with relief. “I’m glad you’re not mad.”

Helix shrugged. “It’s not like you knew me or anything.”

Chango pursed her lips. “Do you play cards?”

“What?”

“This kind.” Chango brandished a deck of playing cards. “Gin, hearts, poker? No?”

Helix shook her head.

“Then you’re going to have to learn. You can’t be laid up in bed for days on end without at least learning gin rummy.”

About halfway through their third hand, Helix brought her lower hands out from under the afghan and started holding her cards in them.

It felt like something that was wrapped very tightly around her heart was starting to unwind. She couldn’t help it, she kept staring at Chango’s eyes, one blue, one green. They were the visible proof. She wasn’t alone.

She liked Hector, she’d been grateful to him, but she’d never felt this comfortable with him. There’d always been some unbreachable distance between them. Each knew the other was different, and somehow she’d always felt he was watching her from the other side of a polyglass window. Chango discarded the eight of clubs. Helix picked it up with her upper right hand, and lay down the rest of the set with her upper left. She looked to see Chango looking, and their eyes met, and they smiled at each other.

“You’ve got five hands,” said Chango. Helix looked down at the cards she held and laughed, which made her wince.

Chango stepped out into the cool night air, her ancient jean jacket clammy against the gooseflesh on her arms. Helix had gone to sleep, and she was restless. She left the Chevy where it was, parked by the curb in front of the house, and walked to Josa’s.

Hyper and Magoo and Pele were hanging around outside the bar. “Hey, what’s going on?” she said, joining them.

“Not much,” said Hyper, “same old, same old.”

“Hey, I heard you’ve got a houseguest over at Mavi’s,” said Pele.

“Yeah,” Chango glared at Hyper, who shot Pele a look.

“She’s got four arms,” continued Pele, oblivious or more likely, unconcerned. “Is she cute?”

“Yeah,” Chango admitted, “she’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t pure altruism, eh?” said Magoo.

“I saw her, she needed help, I helped. Why is everyone trying to twist this around into some sort of bizarre pickup scenario?” she protested.

“Well, you did follow her,” said Hyper.

“Oh, oh thanks a lot, buddy.”

“You followed her?” said Magoo. “I didn’t know that. It doesn’t look good for you, Chango.”

“Screw you, pink boy.”

“Not lately,” he said loftily.

“Oh, girl,” Pele told him.

“Anyway, you guys have to meet her. You know, she’s never met any other sports before.”

“Really?” said Pele.

“Well, think about it, she was in this orphanage, where she was the only sport there, and then she got adopted,” she looked at Hyper, “by this guy that works for GeneSys. She hasn’t been out of the Fisher Building for ten years.”

“Ouch, maybe getting knifed in an alley was a good thing for her,” said Magoo.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but at least now she’ll get to know some of her own people.”

It was only ten, but Josa’s was already crowded with divers off shift for their weekend. The four of them snaked their way through the crowd to the bar. It was still Josa back there, pouring and polishing as she had for the past twenty years.

Chango leaned over the bar with a mylar bill rolled up in her hand. “Josa, a round for me and my friends here, draft.”

Josa cast one jaundiced eye in her direction, took the bill and grunted when she unrolled it. “Four drafts,”

she said briskly, and went off to pour them.

“Oh look,” said Pele, “There’s Monkey with Oli, I heard he took Jan’s mother’s china with him when he left.”

“Yeah but that was after Jan threw his couch out of the window of their third floor apartment.”

Hyper laughed, “Coral told me she saw it go down. Jan had been screaming all morning about throwing that couch out of the window, so by the time it finally happened, there was a little crowd outside, waiting. Can you imagine? That lime green velour atrocity tumbling through the air and then splat, like a huge upholstered bug.”

“That’s entertainment,” said Magoo.

Chango spotted a lean figure with short dark hair and sideburns come in the door. “Hey, Benny!” she shouted, waving him over.

“Hey, what’s going on?” said Benny slapping her on the shoulder, “I heard you have a houseguest,” he said.

“She’s from GeneSys,” offered Pele.

His eyebrows went up, “GeneSys?”