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"Gorilla Crime Wave"
Aug. 10th, 2023 07:34 pm"Gorilla Crime Wave"
7/29/2002
I.
Down from a starless overcast night sky came two young women to land lightly on their feet in a county jail parking lot. As far as they knew, no civilians had spotted them. Both were in their early twenties, both an inch or two over five feet in height, both slim and in fine athletic shape. Ashley Whitaker had platinum blond hair and wore an all white field suit where Megan Salenger had short black hair and was in a black field suit with its boots, snug pants and waist-length jacket.
Disengaging from Megan's arm around her waist, Ashley undid the Scunci holding her gleaming silver hair together and brushed it out. "Not exactly comfortable, Megs. If we have to fly a couple hundred miles again, maybe we can rig up a sling or something to hold me."
"I kept at an altitude and speed where you would not suffer from cold or lack of oxygen," Megan replied evenly. "We could not use the CORBY because there is no place to land secretly in this area, and you said driving down here in a KDF car would take too long."
"Yeah, yeah, it's what I get for complaining, I know." The Unicorn shifted her talisman across her back to make it more comfortable. In its white leather sheath, the ancient horn of a genuine Unicorn was a three foot long ivory cylinder, one end tapering to a sharp needle point and the other end flat to be capped with an ensalir band. "It'd be easier if we could operate in plain view. You know, like comic book super-heroes. Having to be all secret and sneaky bugs me."
The Trom Girl sounded distracted. She was taking readings on the Link, an electronic device no thicker than three playing cards stacked on top of each other. "Being a celebrity would quickly weary you, Ashley. You enjoy a modicum of privacy."
"True, true. Okay, Science Nerd, what do your sensors tell you?"
"No gralic force detected in immediate area, which is helpful for our purposes. I'm looking at infra-red sources and there are no other Humans outside at the moment. Visual scan with anomaly recognition says no windows are open and none of the parked cars have anyone sitting in them. Odds of an ambush are minimal."
"Hah!" Unicorn snorted. "Any ambushers would have their hands full with us."
Both women pivoted as the door at the rear of the jail opened and then closed with the click of lock being set. Moving toward them was a mild-looking man about thirty with receding brown hair and a thin droopy mustache evidently meant as a counter to an unfortunately bulbous nose. He was not in uniform, wearing unremarkable jeans, polo shirt and denim jacket.
To Unicorn, Megan whispered, "His readings match. This is Deputy Sheriff Peter Joseph Watzka."
A second later, the deputy said in a low voice, "Glad you two could make it. I only got a minute. If'n I'm not home right away, I'll have to account to my wife for what deviltry I got up to. So let me get right to the chase."
"We're listening," Megan said.
"I unnerstand New York City has an arrangement with you KDF guys where you're sorta unofficial vigilantes and you get called in on cases. None of that down here. Our District Attorney is as strict as an old maid at a school dance, so this meeting will be denied. I will swear in court I never saw you gals."
"Understood," Megan replied.
"It started on February 23rd," Watzka said. He rattled off details of four burglaries in the area, including the latest one in which someone sleeping in the house been brutally murdered. There were no suspects. As best as the police could reconstruct, the burglar had shown physical strength several times greater than even a circus strongman could match. The murder victim had died from having one arm torn completely off and half his face bitten away.
"Wellll, time to head back to New York," interjected Unicorn, to be shushed by Megan.
"I gave you the dates and addresses and names. The brass tells me that's enough. Miss Salenger, you're supposed to have a photographic memory. I got to go. If you KDF people are gonna investigate this, all I can say is good luck!"
Watching Watzka march over to his personal dark red Ford pickup and drive out of the parking lot, Unicorn let out a low whistle. "Hey, Science Nerd, you've been trained in Kumundu body reading as much as I have. Micro-expressions, subvocal tremors, stance shifts... Did he seemed scared enough to wet himself to you?"
"Absolutely," the Trom Girl agreed. "I had my Link scanning him without his knowledge. His heartbeat was one hundred and twenty, and traces of adrenaline in his perspiration were at near maximum. There is much he has not told us."
"A burglar that yanks your arm off is something new," Unicorn admitted. "I've got my anesthetic dart gun but I'm a little dubious about relying on it against a bozo who beats you with your own arm. Luckily, you've got your beam projector, you can turn him into stray little atoms drifting away on the breeze if you have to."
Megan Salenger started to walk toward the far end of the parking lot, where a sidewalk met Caldwell Street. "Ashley, I want you to take out your Link and activate its screen."
"To hear is to obey," the little blonde replied. "Hey, you're sending me a street map of this town."
"Yes. The red blips are where these crimes took place."
"Let's see, one is uptown, but the other three are closer together. Looks like they're on streets close to the Chipewya Creek. What're the dates?"
Megan made an adjustment. "The brightness reflects the order in which the crimes were committed."
"Okey dokey, sure looks like our strongman hit first way uptown and is now concentrating on the Creek neighborhood. That seems to be, lemme calculate, three miles from here. Are we going to walk there?"
"I do not wish to use a cab or Uber right away," Megan said. "The less of a trail we leave, the better."
"Gotcha. Right heel in front of left toe, left heel in front of right toe, pick 'em up and put 'em down."
Striding alongside her teammate, Megan said, "It's possible some motorist may offer us a ride."
"Hah! Are you kidding? Two pretty girls in skintight commando suits? We'll have rides lined up." And as she finished that sentence, a yellow Volkswagen driven by an older woman slowed.
"What ARE you two doing walking down the road in the middle of the night? Get in fer Godsakes!"
( the rest of the story )
7/29/2002
I.
Down from a starless overcast night sky came two young women to land lightly on their feet in a county jail parking lot. As far as they knew, no civilians had spotted them. Both were in their early twenties, both an inch or two over five feet in height, both slim and in fine athletic shape. Ashley Whitaker had platinum blond hair and wore an all white field suit where Megan Salenger had short black hair and was in a black field suit with its boots, snug pants and waist-length jacket.
Disengaging from Megan's arm around her waist, Ashley undid the Scunci holding her gleaming silver hair together and brushed it out. "Not exactly comfortable, Megs. If we have to fly a couple hundred miles again, maybe we can rig up a sling or something to hold me."
"I kept at an altitude and speed where you would not suffer from cold or lack of oxygen," Megan replied evenly. "We could not use the CORBY because there is no place to land secretly in this area, and you said driving down here in a KDF car would take too long."
"Yeah, yeah, it's what I get for complaining, I know." The Unicorn shifted her talisman across her back to make it more comfortable. In its white leather sheath, the ancient horn of a genuine Unicorn was a three foot long ivory cylinder, one end tapering to a sharp needle point and the other end flat to be capped with an ensalir band. "It'd be easier if we could operate in plain view. You know, like comic book super-heroes. Having to be all secret and sneaky bugs me."
The Trom Girl sounded distracted. She was taking readings on the Link, an electronic device no thicker than three playing cards stacked on top of each other. "Being a celebrity would quickly weary you, Ashley. You enjoy a modicum of privacy."
"True, true. Okay, Science Nerd, what do your sensors tell you?"
"No gralic force detected in immediate area, which is helpful for our purposes. I'm looking at infra-red sources and there are no other Humans outside at the moment. Visual scan with anomaly recognition says no windows are open and none of the parked cars have anyone sitting in them. Odds of an ambush are minimal."
"Hah!" Unicorn snorted. "Any ambushers would have their hands full with us."
Both women pivoted as the door at the rear of the jail opened and then closed with the click of lock being set. Moving toward them was a mild-looking man about thirty with receding brown hair and a thin droopy mustache evidently meant as a counter to an unfortunately bulbous nose. He was not in uniform, wearing unremarkable jeans, polo shirt and denim jacket.
To Unicorn, Megan whispered, "His readings match. This is Deputy Sheriff Peter Joseph Watzka."
A second later, the deputy said in a low voice, "Glad you two could make it. I only got a minute. If'n I'm not home right away, I'll have to account to my wife for what deviltry I got up to. So let me get right to the chase."
"We're listening," Megan said.
"I unnerstand New York City has an arrangement with you KDF guys where you're sorta unofficial vigilantes and you get called in on cases. None of that down here. Our District Attorney is as strict as an old maid at a school dance, so this meeting will be denied. I will swear in court I never saw you gals."
"Understood," Megan replied.
"It started on February 23rd," Watzka said. He rattled off details of four burglaries in the area, including the latest one in which someone sleeping in the house been brutally murdered. There were no suspects. As best as the police could reconstruct, the burglar had shown physical strength several times greater than even a circus strongman could match. The murder victim had died from having one arm torn completely off and half his face bitten away.
"Wellll, time to head back to New York," interjected Unicorn, to be shushed by Megan.
"I gave you the dates and addresses and names. The brass tells me that's enough. Miss Salenger, you're supposed to have a photographic memory. I got to go. If you KDF people are gonna investigate this, all I can say is good luck!"
Watching Watzka march over to his personal dark red Ford pickup and drive out of the parking lot, Unicorn let out a low whistle. "Hey, Science Nerd, you've been trained in Kumundu body reading as much as I have. Micro-expressions, subvocal tremors, stance shifts... Did he seemed scared enough to wet himself to you?"
"Absolutely," the Trom Girl agreed. "I had my Link scanning him without his knowledge. His heartbeat was one hundred and twenty, and traces of adrenaline in his perspiration were at near maximum. There is much he has not told us."
"A burglar that yanks your arm off is something new," Unicorn admitted. "I've got my anesthetic dart gun but I'm a little dubious about relying on it against a bozo who beats you with your own arm. Luckily, you've got your beam projector, you can turn him into stray little atoms drifting away on the breeze if you have to."
Megan Salenger started to walk toward the far end of the parking lot, where a sidewalk met Caldwell Street. "Ashley, I want you to take out your Link and activate its screen."
"To hear is to obey," the little blonde replied. "Hey, you're sending me a street map of this town."
"Yes. The red blips are where these crimes took place."
"Let's see, one is uptown, but the other three are closer together. Looks like they're on streets close to the Chipewya Creek. What're the dates?"
Megan made an adjustment. "The brightness reflects the order in which the crimes were committed."
"Okey dokey, sure looks like our strongman hit first way uptown and is now concentrating on the Creek neighborhood. That seems to be, lemme calculate, three miles from here. Are we going to walk there?"
"I do not wish to use a cab or Uber right away," Megan said. "The less of a trail we leave, the better."
"Gotcha. Right heel in front of left toe, left heel in front of right toe, pick 'em up and put 'em down."
Striding alongside her teammate, Megan said, "It's possible some motorist may offer us a ride."
"Hah! Are you kidding? Two pretty girls in skintight commando suits? We'll have rides lined up." And as she finished that sentence, a yellow Volkswagen driven by an older woman slowed.
"What ARE you two doing walking down the road in the middle of the night? Get in fer Godsakes!"
( the rest of the story )
