Thursday, June 16, 2011

Spanner 3.4: Party Crashers on the Boardwalk

...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 3: Rock Is Dead
Part 4: Party Crashers on the Boardwalk (Final Revision)

car. Shira and Jennifer hungrily feed on each other’s sweet cunts. The muffled moans are sweet music to Willa’s ears. As Rio approaches the Kitsap Way light, Willa asks her, “How’s everything so far?”

“So far, so good,” the Mustang replies.

Lisa Dank starts singing tinnily between the front seats. Angela’s ringtone. They use non-brand, non-tracking, hardware-encrypted smartphones running Linux, using not the AT&T monopoly network but VOIP over IPv6 Wi-Fi distributed via short-range transmitters hidden in every business, home, vehicle, and backpack in Metropolitan Seattle. The monopoly permits only AT&T-supplied and traitorware-laden iPhones; rival brands and no brands desecrate its holy Intellectual Property. So the phones are designed to be untraceable by AT&T corporate or Echelon, and always encrypt calls so that all Echelon and Ma Bell hear is a burst of noise. Smart people avoid the Network whenever possible, even at risk of their lives.

Willa presses the button on the steering wheel, and a hologram of Angela Coyne appears beside her; she sports red hair in a fashionable shoulder-length cut and tans surprisingly deeply. “Hi, Angie. Any news?”

“Hi, Willa.” Angela says. “I just found out about Shira.”

“I’m driving her new car right now. Did you know she stole a kiss from Minty Fresh?”

Angela laughs. “I didn’t know about the smooch part. By the way, your evil ex is on the move again.”

“What’s the old fiend up to this time?” says Willa coldly.

“Trying to railroad Shira, for one thing. He’s totally convinced that Shira’s our monkeywrench, and Rebel Rebel too. Proof? what proof? He’s got the whole Foundation working overtime to protect her.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from the old horror. Or his one-eyed son, either.”

“Speaking of Ol’ Blue Eye, get this. COPCO Seattle just received a shipment of over ten thousand Terminator-looking security androids from Yoyodyne, payable to guess who.”

“So he’s carrying out his threat to break the Police Guild after all.”

“He never liked cops. Now here’s the interesting part. Rumor has it he slipped in a hundred sexbots, each one designed to cater to one of his many kinks, paid for as part of the official COPCO order.”

Willa rolls her eyes. “Oh, brother.”

“It gets even better. Our good fiends at the MIAA? They’ve elected to turn terrorist.”

“So when do they start bombing?”

“The IP Defenders already have.”

“It’s getting more fun already.”

“You talking fun? The Moral Enforcers are pooping on the party. Don’t let ’em crap on your rep.”

“Shira’s got her plan and I’ve got blanks. She’s making love to Jennifer in the back seat as we speak.”

“Cool! So when are those two getting married?”

“When we destroy the Eugenics Institute.”

“Good luck with that. [blows kiss] Gotta go, see ya soon!”

“’Bye.” Angela disappears; the call ends. Willa does not smile for the rest of the trip.

1 may 2013...
A warm night in downtown Bremerton. Willa Richter-Thomas walks hand in hand with her fourteen-year-old daughter, Jennifer Blair. The smell of tear gas lingers in the air. Willa is not in a good mood.

“What’s wrong, Willa?” asks Jennifer.

Willa hugs her daughter. “Oh, how about everything? It hurts when your worst enemy takes over the world.”

“It’s more than just that.”

“Okay. You went to bed before it happened. The protests had barely even begun when they started cracking down and the media blackout began.”

“What were they cracking down on?”

“It’s May Day, right?”


“You remember what May Day is, right? I’m not talking about pagan holidays.”

“International Labor Day!” Jennifer beams, proud of herself.

Willa does not smile. Jennifer’s smile disappears. Willa says, “It’ll be the last if your stepfather has his way.”

“What happened?”

“Last night—it was daytime in Europe—millions of workers demonstrated for their rights against Corporatism. Or rather, they tried to protest. The Cartel hired every mercenary corporation in the world, legal or illegal, and tried to massacre everybody.”

“Oh my god—” gasps Jennifer in horror.

Anger seeps into Willa’s voice. “You know the government’s already consolidated the media companies into the MIAA cartel. Sure enough, it decreed a total media blackout. So not only are millions of workers now dead or in concentration camps for insubordination, they plan to enslave the survivors. Nobody’s supposed to know about it, but everybody does.”

Stunned, Jennifer says nothing and does not move.

Suddenly, behind them, a man cocks his gun and yells, “Freeze!”

Willa and Jennifer turn around to see an angry MIB in mirrorshades, pointing his Beretta at him. Willa says, “So you’re the assassin my ex-husband sent to kill me.”

“You are right!” the MIB shouts with absolute self-righteousness. “The Lord Doctor sent me to execute you for treason, liberal communist traitor Richter-Thomas! But your daughter will live. We claim her pure blood as the property of the Eugenics Institute!”

Willa and Jennifer stare at each other in incredulity. Then Willa defiantly declares, “I’m afraid he didn’t tell you and your fellow cultists how hard I am to kill. Not that you’re likely to survive long enough to tell him.”

The Eugenics Institute agent shoots at Willa’s head and hits air. Willa ducks and rolls toward him, knocks his head back with a rising elbow smash—but hits metal. She winces and groans in pain. The agent knocks her back several meters so that she hits the land-side railing and nearly falls over into the water.

The super soldier grabs Jennifer hard by the arm and lifts her up as if she were a feather. She tries to knock his shades off only to find out they’re implanted into the metallized bones of his face.

A shot rings out from the railing. A hole appears in the MIB’s neck; blood spurts from it. He touches the wound, looks at the bloody hand, licks the blood. “Aw, no... Jesus America save me...” He drops Jennifer, stands motionless on his feet for several seconds, stumbles toward the outer edge of the boardwalk, then falls dead over the railing and sinks quickly to the sea floor. Jennifer looks over toward the railing and sees her mother holding her pistol up.

Mother and daughter stare at each other for an endless moment, refusing to breathe. Willa puts her gun back into her purse. They run to each other and collide into each other’s arms. Jennifer cries and cries. Willa says, “You’re safe now.” But for how long?

That was the first Moral Enforcer that Willa and Jennifer ever fought. Since then, things have only gotten worse...

carpark. The girls have their clothes on by the time Rio reaches the end of Sixth Street at the downtown waterfront. Rio turns right on Washington Avenue. Shira asks Jennifer, “I’m wondering, if I’m the big star, why you get all the stalkers?”

Jennifer frowns. “I’m the ‘eugenically correct’ one.”

“Murdoch’s out to ruin me, not you.”

“Be glad it’s only Murdoch. The Eugenics Institute don’t mind killing me for parts. I refuse to let ’em get even one little piece.”

The car turns left at the Second Street light and enters the convention center carpark’s lowest level at the dead end. Willa carefully winds her way through the dimly lit garage and slips into a parking spot close to the ferry terminal elevator. “You girls ready?”

Jennifer kicks the back of the front passenger seat. “Steel toes? Check.”

The yo-yo pouch clipped to the left side of her belt. Shira takes out her loaded Go-Yo™ and kisses it. “Starla Go is ready to go!”

Willa holds out her pistol. “And I’m packing.” She loads a clip full of blanks.

Shira taps her phone. “I got the ultimate weapon in here if we need it.”

“Rebel,” says Jennifer suspiciously. “Right?”

“Hey, you never know who might be stalking us.” Shira winks.

Jennifer takes a holster legband from the empty passenger seat, straps it onto her right leg under her dress, and slips the kubotan in. The three of them don cellphone armbands, AR monitor shades, and hard-knuckled datagloves. Ready at last. “Now to rock ’n’ roll.”

Rio autolocks and automagically activates her anti-theft system once they’re out. Shira wears an aqua tartan microskirt, white YouTwitFace baby tee, pink and blue striped thigh socks, and her gangster-tooth necklace and Companion Cube earrings. The girls dash to flank Willa. They rub their boots on the pavement to friction-power their devices. Together, they stride out of the carpark into the crowd.

boardwalk. It’s the last day of the Bremerton Blackberry Festival. The boardwalk is flanked from end to end by vendor tents and crowded with people wary of the camdrones flying overhead. A country-hits cover band plays on the plaza stage.

Wearing this year’s Bangor High cheerleader uniform, Karen collides with her cousins in a frenzy of hugs and kisses next to the Cheung’s Wushu tent just past the view platform, dancing and hopping around, crying out their joy. “I’m so happy to see you! I love you guys so much. I wish you could stick around all day.” Willa joins the group hug and kisses Karen.

Another girl hugs Shira and Jennifer from behind. Turning their heads, they recognize her: “Hi, Colette!” Nicolette Rosewater, Karen’s best friend, is nearly half a foot shorter, has darker brown hair, and wears her black and silver schoolgirl uniform. Shira hugs and kisses Colette, then hands her over to Jennifer.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” says Colette. She kisses Jennifer. “We’d still love you two to come with us to the Buddhist meeting tonight.”

Shira says, “I wish you guys could come see our magic show. The kids’ll absolutely love it.”

Their childhood friend Polly Parker, a pretty witch with long brown hair, hugs Shira and Jennifer from behind and kisses them on the cheek. “Sorry I can’t go see it,” she says. “I gotta go home so Mom and I can go school shopping while the sales are still on.”

“Oh, you’ll get your chance. Jen and I’ve got three shows this year. We’ll even give you a free ticket if you want.”

Suddenly a rock bounces off Shira’s head. An angry old lady shrieks, “Stop that perverted behavior! It’s obscene!”

Another yells, “Un-American, too!”

Shira whips out her Go-Yo, Jennifer unholsters her kubotan; with Willa and Colette behind them, four girls form a line in defensive stance against a group of old Patriot women. The Go-Yo spins halfway down, the classic “sleeper” trick. “One more,” Shira warns, “and it’s seventy-two houris for y’all.”

But it’s not the four fierce girls who scare the old women away. Willa lowers her glasses so as to give the impression she’s about to shoot lasers out of her eyes. The Patriot Ladies back away slowly, then turn around and hurry away.

Polly complains, “What’s so ‘perverted’ about hugging and kissing your friends?”

Willa puts her arm around her. “Understand this, Polly: what they call ‘perverted’ isn’t so much the affection as the fact that you love your friends, or even that you have friends at all.”

Colette’s jaw drops. “They call that ‘perverted’ and ‘obscene’?”

“Conservative Americans consider it a sin to have good feelings toward others. They call it ‘false idolatry.’ It distracts from the properly antisocial ‘true’ idolatry toward their Nation and one’s ego.” Colette and Polly stare at each other in shock; Karen shakes her head sadly; Jennifer nods as if saying It’s even worse than you can imagine.

Shira feels someone staring at them: a disturbingly familiar pale-skinned beauty with silky black hair bobbed short, standing at the railing listlessly smoking. She wears purple bikini top, matching short skirt, and flip-flops. Shira cannot avert her eyes. The girl blushes and gives her a timid smile.

Polly glares at Shira and drags her away with her into the crowd. She whispers, “What’s Leila Shelley doing here?”

“What was that for? You aren’t jealous, are you?”

“Scary Leila? Oh, no. But I know you, Shira Miranda. I know what you do to pretty girls.”

Shira leans closer to Polly and smiles seductively at her.

Polly pushes her away. “Oh no you don’t!”

Behind them they hear a splash. Panicked voices scream and yell. One woman says, “Oh my God, she’s drowning herself!”

Shira and Polly stand bolt upright, eyes wide open. They look at each other. Shira says, “You wait right here.”

She weaves, dances, and shoves her way through the crowd. “’Scuse me, ’scuse me, comin’ through!” Near where Leila was she leaps between booths, out of her clothes, over the railing into the water. She spots Leila’s silhouette in the water below. In the water she reaches for her, grabs her, drags her to the surface. She plugs her nose, puts her mouth on hers, draws water out of her lungs, spits it out, breathes air into her mouth. Leila coughs. Shira swims her over to the nearest marina walkway, helps her climb onto it, then follows her up. They stand up; Shira hugs her; Leila collapses against her. “I’m sorry,” she says weakly in a soft Irish-accented voice.

Shira catches her breath. She almost can’t believe the girl of her dreams is now in her arms. Her embrace gives Leila the will to gather back her strength and stand back up. Leila holds Shira tighter and looks up to see bright green eyes adore her. “Thank you.”

Shira gives her a beautiful smile. “You’re welcome.” Karen runs to them carrying Shira’s clothes and a towel just in time to see them kiss.

At the main tent, Jennifer is picking up their blackberry scone order when she hears a loud vehicle zoom down Second Street and screech to a halt. People panic and flee. Jennifer spots an old white van with eight muscular men getting out. They slam their doors. And then the screams begin. Stan Green and his gang of born-again musclemen, juiced-up former FSUs covered with visible ghosts of removed tattoos, are rampaging again for the Moral Enforcement Crusade, the Church of America’s religious police. Willa grabs an unwilling Jennifer into a tight protective embrace and puts herself between Jennifer and the Enforcers.

The Enforcers chase people out from in front of the stage and throw chairs around. The country band flee the stage, except for the worried singer. “Excuse me, but can’t we be nice here for once?“ she asks nervously.

Offended, Green points at her as if trying to stab her to death, and screams, “Are you telling us to surrender?

His second in command, Vince Corson, sneers, “Only a girl would say that. Let’s teach the bitch a hard lesson.”

The band return to drag their petrified singer away from danger. Colette cries out, “Stop this! Please!” Karen pulls her away to protect her.

From Jennifer’s direction, Shira and Leila hear a horrible male scream filled with rage and frustration. They turn in its direction and see big Stan Green twitching in impotent fury as he watches Willa holding Jennifer in her arms. Leila gasps “Is that—”

“My favorite aunt,” Shira replies. “You’d better get used to this scene, ’cuz our good fiends here ain’t gonna stop till Stan Green steals my cousin Jennifer from me. Let’s give him a great big welcome.” She walks away from Leila, toward the trouble. Leila stiffens in anger, hesitates, then runs after Shira.

Jennifer escapes Willa’s imprisoning arms and walks up to Green defiantly. Cheerily she says, “Stanley! How nice to see you!” Green starts to grin in triumph. Still smiling, Jennifer launches a hard kick into his groin. He falls to his knees, grabs his crotch, whimpers from the agony. “I didn’t know you missed me so much!” She kicks him in the jaw in hopes of breaking it; he falls backwards and rolls around in pain. In one motion she unholsters her kubotan and flicks it open to its full half-meter length.

“Blair, you fucking bitch!” shrieks Corson. He rushes Jennifer. She clobbers him in the temple with her kubotan, knocking him senseless. He stumbles backward and falls limp to the pavement.

Willa runs back to Jennifer and tries to drag her away from the Enforcers. “Find someplace safe. Get out of here!”

Jennifer takes the scones off the counter and gives them to her. “Here, take these, I need to find Shira.”


Somebody’s gotta teach these bullies a lesson.” Jennifer runs north up the boardwalk.

Green roars, “Where’s Rebel Styles?!

Shira appears in his face so suddenly he flinches. “Don’t ask me I don’t know sorry.”

“Cut the lying, Styles!” yells Corson in her ear. “Time to meet your Maker!”

Green launches a massive right hook at Shira’s jaw. She ducks and trips him. He falls backwards into the Enforcer behind him. “Sorry got no idea what you’re talkin’ ’bout!” Corson, still groggy, rushes her; she lunges out of his way, trips him, sends him airborne for several feet before he lands. She feints at the other two Enforcers; they flinch but remain in attack position.

Polly borrows a collapsible staff from the Cheung tent; she snaps it out to its full length in her hands and spins it into one Enforcer’s knee and another’s temple. Leila runs to the nearest food booth and steals a large knife, outrunning the cooks who try to catch her. Corson finds himself facing her; she holds the knife like a lance and smiles sweetly at him. He grimaces. “So you’re the bitch who slashed Reno!”

“He needed to die.” She thrusts the knife at Corson’s heart; he dodges and tries to side grab her; she swings swordlike with her left hand and does not allow him to get close enough to hit or grab her. Jennifer rolls toward him and hits him in the ankle with her kubotan. He falls, grabs his knee, moans in pain; she hammers his tender knee so he cries out; she kicks him into another Enforcer, then takes Leila by the arm and pulls her into the heart of the fray.

Four Enforcers surround Shira. She extracts her loaded Go-Yo from its pouch and throws it down into sleeper position. The Enforcer in front of her laughs at her. “A yo-yo? You can’t beat me with a toy!” Shira jerks it back up and flicks it forward to shatter his nose. When it returns to her hand, she holds it in front of her to reveal the image of a wide-suited, vertical-haired man spinning his yo-yo, the Go-Yo™ trademark, and the slogan “Relax!™” She kisses it. “Say hi, Starla-wa.”

He holds his hand to his nose, then looks at it to see the blood. “You bitch!” Two Enforcers rush her. She spins the Go-Yo behind her to hit the first one upside the jaw, knocking him upward and out, then flings it around to catch another in the temple and send him flying sideways to a painful crash landing. One grabs her from behind, another launches a fist toward her stomach, but she dodges so he hits his comrade’s; he then tries to punch her jaw, but she dodges so that the right hook knocks the other Enforcer out, and Shira is free. She pulls the Enforcer into another’s punch; Polly finishes off the remaining attacker.

Green charges Leila and tries to take her knife from her. Suddenly he feels a sharp prick in his gut; she extracts the knife from it with his blood on it. He loses all control; he swings wildly, she rams her shoulder inside his, throws him on his face.

Eight enraged Moral Enforcers surround four fight-crazed young women. Four shots ring out; four Enforcers fall to the pavement clutching their groins. Willa holds out her smoking pistol and shakes her head sadly. “Stanley, Stanley. You went to all this trouble just so I could catch you committing terrorism against innocent girls? And we all thought you people moral.”

Stan Green’s Enforcers slowly retreat, slink backwards away from Willa and the girls, eyeing them cautiously. Then they turn around and break into a run toward the van. They leap inside, slam the doors, and spin around in a frenzy of squealing smoking tires. Shira, Jennifer, and Willa return their weapons to their sheaths; Polly returns the staff to its tent; Leila drops her knife. Green glares back at the women, shakes his fists, and yells “I swear by all that is American, I’ll get y’all yet!” out the window as the van speeds away.

A flock of camdrones flies away; Angela threatened to bury the COPCO brass in lawsuits and paperwork if they didn’t call off the drones forthwith. Back at the COPCO field office, Jack Becket bangs his head against his desk, punishing himself for letting her embarrass him yet again.

“Leila!” Shira runs over to her. “You all right?”

“I think so.”

Jennifer runs back to the scone tent to see Willa, Karen, and Colette. Shira starts walking toward the far end of the boardwalk, and Leila follows her.

Willa gives Shira the scones, then hugs Jennifer. “You girls okay?”

Jennifer grins. “Us? Yeah. Them? No.”

Karen says, “Please stop making me worry about you guys.”

“Yeah, Jen,” adds Colette, “please stop getting yourself into fights.”

Shira and Jennifer hug them. “I love you guys to pieces,” says Jennifer, “but I still need to pound some sense into that idiot.”

Willa says, “Go eat your scones, girls.”

Jennifer looks back at Shira and Leila, then hugs Willa. “Sorry, gotta go now. See ya!” She hugs Karen and Colette, then runs over to Shira and Leila. Shira waves and blows a kiss at Willa. Jennifer takes a scone and gives it to Leila. “Here. Have mine. You deserve one.”

Leila stares at her, stunned. “Thanks.”

“What about you, Jen?” asks Shira.

“I can always get another. This one’s on me.” Jennifer winks.

“I’ll go get Polly.”

Jennifer runs back to the scone tent. Shira walks toward the ferry terminal. Leila follows. “I feel like I already know you, Shira.”

“How so?”

“I watch your videos on the Darknet. You send me flowers, love letters, naked pictures...”

“I’ve loved you for so long! I’m so glad you’re finally here.”

Leila blushes. “Thank you.“ She takes a deep breath. “Do you think you could have handled those guys alone?”

Shira gives her an ironic cockeyed smile. “Gets easier every time.”

They eat their scones as they search for Polly.

on to the next...

Back to Chapter 3 index...
Back to Chaos Angel Spanner table of contents...

Copyright © 2011, 2012 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
Creative Commons License

[Revision 2, 6/16/11: Slightly expanded from first draft. Fight scene rearranged, Leila’s role expanded, iPad/BlipVert added to suicide bomber scene, text and continuity errors corrected.]
[Revision 3, 9/28/11: Leila’s scenes changed to fit her earlier appearances in 1.1 and 3.1; Karen now debuts here rather than 3.5; the first appearance of Colette (formerly Nicole) is now here instead of 5.2; some scenes modified for clarity and style; text and continuity errors corrected.]
[Revision 3.1, 10/21/11: Leila’s first Moral Enforcer confrontation now with Corson, linking to her backstory and 3.1; text errors corrected.]
[Revision 3.2, 10/22/11: Corrected continuity errors in Shira/Leila relationship line.]
[Revision 4 Final, 7/5/2012: Merged with old 3.3 “Car Song”, renamed from “Party on the Boardwalk”, revised for style and to fit Revision 4 continuity; ferry terminal scene moved to next section. Chapter renamed from “The Whole Point of No Return”.]

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