Mr. Twelve

By I M Gardner

Arron Kimber was a normal enough graduate student. Brilliant, decisive and capable, he led an honest and measured life between school and work.

Yet suddenly, a chance meeting would shatter his world. Someone would call upon him. Someone that was willing to embrace him, train him, make him offers just too good to believe. She would spin his world from rags to riches in mere days. She would bind his heart in a slowly tightening web of heady desire.

But why did she want him? What did she require in return?...his body?...perhaps his life?

From the dark streets of a future city to an endless and unforgiving wilderness, an incredible adventure rages to consume Arron as he struggles against the deadly seduction.

In the end, it would all be worth it.

Or would it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: I M Gardner
• Release date: Jul 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536549898

Book preview

I. The Silver Bullet

Sept 23rd.

Some said we have killed people here. I’m not sure. It’s certainly possible. I think it adds to the mystic though. After all, business is booming.

We are not liable for accidents. I have read about liabilities and lawyers from the past eras. But, lawyers went extinct, along with tigers and elephants and hundreds of other things. My heart saddens for them. Not for the lawyers,… for the elephants. Anyways, everyone takes their own chances now with the risks. We are still here, risky as hell, willing to satisfy a serious thrill. And it pays well.

But I digress, It’s my job that I want to describe for you. My schooling is very expensive, so I operate this famous thrill ride for the bucks. Not just any thrill ride, but the biggest, hippest, most fantastic ride around. The official name is Sky Slide, but for those of us that work here, there are less flattering names for it.

It’s very ingenuous. Try to imagine two long, parallel walls separated by twelve feet of openness. These mirror–image walls start high on a peak and run downhill for sixty yards to the drop off…that being an abrupt cliff that overlooks the valley, two thousand feet below.

The walls are thick, full of apparatus that make the rides possible. High inside of each wall is a slot, or channel, in which rides a long bar. This is the sailing bar. People pay good money to ride this bar down the long groove in the walls, building speed like a jet, only to go launching off the cliff with the bar. Most all of the time, the soaring sails deploy from both ends of the bar. It’s the wildest six seconds to be had. Part of the thrill is wondering if the sails will really deploy. They almost always do.

People try it and scream and cry and then bring others to do it all over again. It’s a crazy thrill like no other. I ought to know, I’ve done it thirty seven times now. Each time, I wondered if my ride would be the one in a thousand that malfunctions.

Today though, I was just operating it. No riding for me.

What I do appears easy at first. I sit just to the side of the wall entrance at a station full of buttons and levers. I don’t take money, that’s handled far up the line.

My job is to customize the set up for each rider as they approach the breach. First, they step on a remote scale. I use their true weight to safely set the internal sail pressure.

Next a sexy voice recording requests them to stretch their arms up and grab a squishy foam roller. This gives me their torso and arm length and records their hand size. I use this data to pre-load the locking gloves and trike seats.

After this, the real flight bar comes up from underground and stops at just the right stretch for their height. The rider then reaches up into the hand gauntlets and hears a hiss as the bar gloves secure their hands in high-pressure molten gel. They can’t let go now. I’ve seen many panic at this point, but it’s for their own good. The ride doesn’t rely on each rider’s strength, it secures them to the bar for their own safety.

This is where I try to support them a little. That’s really why I’m here. Most any of our technicians can adjust the buttons and levers necessary for a safe ride, but I help them when they need it most. I talk to them. I’ve learned to read each type of person and what they need, right then, in their point of no return. They range from totally terrified, to…I’ve got to show I’m not scared, to…rad man, hit me with everything you got! It’s my job to know who is which type.

For those riders that are terrified, I usually ask them their name. I repeat it back to them calmly and tell them I’m personally allowing them to close their eyes. I tell them to open them when they feel like they are softly floating on a cloud. They usually nod and try to smile.

For those that are scared, but aren’t allowed to show it, I usually give them a thumbs up. Then I tell them they look good doing this, like they were born for this. Then I add a You’ve got this Sir, (or ma’am). It works.

For the head bangers, I just say something like; Make me proud bro. And flash them the cool thumb swivel.

Then I watch the bar slowly elevate to lift them as they settle into their trike sling. I watch to make sure all the stress points are correct, then push a final lever. The bar climbs up over an oval curve, clicking smoothly into the long slots on each inner wall. It jerks softly once, then takes off down the slots, gaining speed from the mechanized launcher inside the walls. The rail slots end when the bar and rider reach exactly fifty two miles per hour and they shoot out over the valley with nothing but two thousand feet of thin air under them.

As soon as the smart bar detects the actual launch, balanced sails are deployed in sequenced bursts, slowing the rider’s speed. Within six seconds, the rider is gliding softly in a slow turn, headed safely to a landing spot, complete with a smiling hostess to offer them the pre-determined beverage of their choice.

All this costs quite a bit, but they get their money’s worth.

I had just safely launched a manic, young head-banger type when I noticed a ruckus up the line. I spotted a man in our official blue Sky Captain coveralls. He was pushing into the crowd. I knew right away it was Bill Planter, the trouble-maker. Bill had been demoted more times than I can remember in my short job here, but he was related to the owner. Hence he was still here.

I watched for a second, then threw a lock lever, pulled my smart chip from the console and started back that way.

Bill had a bad habit of flirting with good-looking women and then insinuating that everything would go be better if they did a tandem run. The veiled threat was that everything might not go well if they turned him down. It was a cheap trick, preying on their insecurity to verbally molest them the whole, slow ride down. I didn’t tolerate it on my crew and he knew that.

As I approached, I saw the target of his scam. She was striking; a brunette, tall and stately. She had on a form fitting jump suit of satin silver and she made it look good. Everything on her that had curves seemed to stretch the suit just a bit. She had on aviator shades and her long hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her tanned face had just a hint of Eurasian to it. Her eyes remained a mystery.

She was obviously with someone. Standing between her and Bill Planter was an older, distinguished looking man. He had the look of wealth. He was right at home in $200 khakis, a golf shirt and a blue-faced Rolex Oyster. His wavy hair was blond with grey tints nicely blended in. He shared the same healthy tan as his attractive date.

Sir, leave the lady alone, she has already turned down your offer. The gentleman was explaining to Bill.

I was walking quickly now, I could smell trouble.

Hey now, you need to think about this. How could you even allow yourself to risk such a fine squeeze like this without professional assistance. I think you are making a big mistake old Geezer. Bill lashed back.

The woman pushed Bill away now in disgust.

I was almost there. I saw Bill double up his fist and glare at the gentleman. I didn’t have to guess at what was coming next. I just got there in time. I shoved Bill sideways as I came in hard, shoulder first. He staggered and hit the ground.

"Back to the souvenir shop, Captain Planter." I pointed up the hill.

He looked at me with murder in his eyes. Finally, he stood and glared at the three of us. I stepped forward between Bill and the two guests. He broke his stare and dusted off his coveralls.

Have fun Kimber, consider this your last shift. He threatened and turned away.

"Yeah, who died and made you boss?" I asked.

He kept walking, but spit on the ground like he was actually tough. I let it go.

You guys ok? I asked, as I turned back to the handsome couple.

Yeah, we’re ok I guess. Wasn’t really expecting a ruffian to besiege us, but you seemed to straighten things out nicely. The man said. He held out his hand.

Nathan Wright.

Pleased to meet you Mr. Wright. I’m Arron Kimber and I apologize for that. I smiled.

This is Ana Regrasso. He offered, waving his hand across her shoulder.

Pleased to meet you. I smiled at her to see my teeth gleam back at me from her $300 shades.

We really appreciate you stepping in to help Mr. Kimber. I’d hate for Nathan to get all scuffed up on his birthday. She offered her hand in the international dip.

She had a stirring accent, but I couldn’t quite place it. I gently clasps my hands on her own. It was sleek and warm.

Let’s hope for a scuff-free day then. I laughed.

There were beginning to be cat-calls as the people nearest the breach were getting impatient.

Well, off to work, I’ll see you two in about eight minutes, if I do my job correctly. I let go and started to turn.

"Nathan gets anything he desires for his birthdays, you know Mr. Kimber." She added.

I paused. It was the way she had said it. It sounded very wealthy. Or very sexy. Maybe both.

Well this should be a good start then. See you at the launch. I offered and turned, hoping I could tear myself away.

Even as total strangers, I felt like I had spent hours with them. But work was work. These people in line depended on me. I escaped to resume my launches.

I made sure to put extra effort into my personal support of these frightened and anxious patrons.

Before long the familiar silver curves moved patiently into my peripheral vision. I took just a little extra care with these two. I successfully launched Nathan Wright with the scared, but can’t show it routine and he seemed to fly away in the best of moods.

Next, Ana Regrasso stepped on the scales…a perfect 117 pounds. Then she pounced off like a cat and sauntered over to my console.

She handed me a small business card. I tilted it in the sunlight. It was parchment yellow with only two tiny lines of print. Wright Enterprises Ltd. Below this was a single international phone number. On the back was the number 12, hand scrolled with a ball point.

Your talents are wasted here Mr. Kimber. She said.

She lowered her shades and met my eyes.

I’ve never seen such perfect eyes. There were browns and ambers and a darkness that seemed to look right through me.

I found myself staring back into them. The few brief seconds that she held my eyes seemed like hours.

Finally my brain seemed to respond.

And who’s going to answer? I managed to get out.

Does it matter Mr. Kimber? she purred. Just tell them you are Mr. Twelve. That’s all. She smiled.

Um, ok, thank you Ms. Regrasso. I tried to smile. Not sure I pulled it off.

Please now, just call me Ana. She said with one last stare to sear my eyeballs.

With that she pounced back in line and reached up for the foam bar. The jump suit seemed to stretch nicely for her.

She had me. For the first time ever, I couldn’t decide what pep talk to give my customer. I just focused on double-checking all the safety parameters and pulled the big lever to let her fly. She looked like a silver bullet streaking away.

* * * *

I lay in bed watching my wrist phone glow in the dark. Chunky, my black lab, lay across my feet. Sigh…this used to be so cute when he was a puppy. Eighty eight pounds later, it was just slow torture.

I had the business card from today setting next to me on the night table. It would be so easy to pick it up and dial that tiny, un-assuming little number there. But, what was it all about? They seemed so friendly, so alluring. Almost too good to be true. The perfect front for something illegal,…like stealing internal organs. I shivered and had just decided to toss the card when my wrist phone lit up. It was from the Sky Slide office.

Hello? I asked.

Arron, this is Mr. Miller, hated to call so late. He said rather briskly.

It’s all right Mr. Miller, is everything ok? I asked, hoping no one had died since I got off shift.

Well no, there is a problem. I heard you assaulted Billy today. He sounded pissed.

Well, Billy was accosting a couple of paying customers today. I sent him back up to the shops. No one was hurt. I offered honestly.

Arron, that’s my nephew, you can’t be bullying him. You’re half a foot taller and got forty pounds of muscle on him. I won’t have it! He stated, obviously still upset.

Yes sir, I understand your concern. I would think the customers come first Sir. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me? I spoke honestly.

They do, damn it! And Billy comes second, he’s family for Christ’s sake. You, Arron Kimber, are a distant third. Do I make myself clear? He was almost screaming.

Yes, I can hear you, no need to yell. I offered calmly.

Fine. He sounded quieter. We’re going to have to address this. I want you to take a week off. Without pay. Think about things. He said slowly, like it was the end of the world.

That’s fine Sir, no problem. I offered, not feeling at all like it was the end of the world.

And don’t go looking for a job, I need you. He added.

I know sir. Don’t let Billy kill anyone while I’m gone. I said bluntly.

Damn it Kimber! He started yelling again.

I laid my arm under the pillow and tickled Chunky’s broad head with my right foot. Chunky stretched his legs out stiff, and acted like he might get up, but just fell back into an apparent coma.

When the ranting stopped under my pillow, I brought my wrist phone back near my face.

Ok, look, sorry to keep you up with all this. He finally offered, sounding burned out.

No problem Sir, I don’t have work tomorrow. I said evenly.

I thought I heard a faint growl as he hung up.

Poor guy, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. I wasn’t worried. I knew he was over-worked when I wasn’t there. And Karma would catch up to Billy Planter, not a doubt in my mind.

…now, what to do tomorrow…

I got up and went into the kitchen. I noticed Chunky managed to recover from his coma and met me in the kitchen. I made cereal and took it back to my bedroom. Chunky slobbered at his water bowl and then followed me back.

I could hear sirens down at the waterfront. Probably another paid hit. They were legal now you know. If you knew what you were doing and could afford the price, it was all quasi-legal.

I tuned the sirens out and reached for the card. What the hell…why not?

I slowly clicked the numbers into my wrist phone. I hit send.

It rang for six or seven times before I heard it pick up.

Wright Enterprises, how may I direct your call? said a stiff female voice.

Yes good evening, Mr. Wright gave me a card with this number on it. He asked me to call it. I said simply.

"Sir Mr. Wright is unavailable. May I connect you to a certain division? Perhaps voice mail? She offered it like she had said it half a million times.

Which division would be interested in a call from Mr. Twelve? I asked, taking a chance.

There was a long pause.

Oh I see, stay on the line, I’m going to transfer the call. Can you hold for one minute Sir? She asked nicely now, with concern in her voice.

Sure, I’m not going anywhere. I said.

I felt the bed jolt as Chunky leaped back