CHAPTER 9: SIAMESE TWIN PROSTITUTES
The EQ went blank as a critic's cranium, but the image still haunted me. So, Natasha was in on this bottle of furry capers, too? If I wasn't presumed guilty before setting foot in this kangaroo court, I didn't have a harlot's prayer now.
Natasha Romilar. SheWhoCanNotBeNamed. The sight of my (who was I kidding, everybody's) long lost concubine almost made me forget where I was and who I was going to.
"Doolan, I have always been the first to leap to your defense in these matters. When you appeared at the annual Korps Masquerade Ball with a syringe poking out of your arm, did I not claim that you were dressed as a pincushion? And when you arranged conjugal vistits with Ethyl and Ella, the Siamese twin prostitutes, did I not turn a blind eye to your... peccadilloes?"
"The was the research opportunity of a lifetime."
"This outrage is inexcusable, intolerable...in short, Doolan, the theft of the Time/Space Warp puts the Korps and the citizens of Mars in great peril..."
At that my trusty mouthpiece and two MPs with black hoods and lead-lined suits wheeled in a contraption that looked like a cannon with a telefloral lens on it. They say that at times like this your whole life passes before your eyes like oil on velvet, but all I could see was the reckless leer and bedroom hips of my arch-obler, Natasha.
"...this prototype, untested as of today, will have you as the object of its maiden voyage."
So that was that. Mortality is a pleasure trip, but exile? I'd been just about everywhere that I wanted to go and a few places I didn't, so I did what we all do when confronted by the inevitable. I kicked and screamed and stamped my little feet.
"Tell me, Oh Great One -- in the depths of your android, cock tease, TV mediocrity, did you ever stop to think where this game is headed and what it is you really want from me? Haven't I walked the tightrope in your little flea circus long enough to warrant some answers? I've been dead to the world for so long that I'm puking up brimstone. I don't eat, I don't sleep, and I don't do windows..."
These outbursts of mine can be scary. One minute I'm fine, and the next I'm a raving lunatic. They say speed kills, I guess crank is Murder One. What did it matter anyway; death, where is thy stink?
"Doolan, I pity the fool."
And with that he was gone.
See, my affection for the little blue ball by Venus was an open secret in the Korps. Because my mother was an Earthling wench I'd always had to work twice as hard for half as much, but not knowing math I'd never really noticed. Now it looked like I was bound for the terra-dome, like it or else.
I saw the same eerie glow as that day in the park and I knew soon I'd be nothing but gnarly nougat streaking through the Milky Way. I just hoped for once I was wrapped up tightly.
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CHAPTER 10: EVERYONE'S A WINNER