"Overdue"
The Snarfria Free Clinic was located outside the capital, in a district the
locals referred to affectionately as "the 'burbs". It was situated in
In her office in the clinic, resident ob/gyn and sex therapist Doctor Zhie closed the last folder of the day, took a deep breath and let it out through pursed lips, making a sound like a locomotive coming to a halt. She was tired, mentally more than physically, and glad the day was finally done.
She swiveled her chair around and looked out her office window, over the
embankment towards the woods in the near distance. The late afternoon sun would
turn into dusk in a few hours, night by
She smiled, feeling good, feeling like she had accomplished something today as she got up and stuck the folder in her filing cabinet, then headed for the office door. As she opened it, a voice in the exterior hall said, "Flessidoria Zhie?"
"I'm sorry," she said as she stepped through the doorway. "The clinic is cl-"
Long ago, when the race of Thunderian Cheetah was created, the humans who genetically hybridized them decided that, having violated the laws of nature this far, why not further? They partitioned off an unusally large portion of Cheetah brain for the processing of reflex input, then fed it every kind of neurological accelerant they could think of. Early experiements had sketchy success; subjects who trembled, had permanent fast heartbeats, or were just high-stung and nervous.
But they persevered, and it was their determination, coupled with alot of twitchy ancestors, that saved Zhie's life. Before she realized what was in the intruder's hand, she had already thrown herself backwards, through her office door, and out of the line of fire.
"GUN!" her brain screamed when it caught up with the rest of her. She kicked the door shut and rolled away, coming to her feet just as three slugs tore through the cheap paneling and buried themselves in the office floor. Glass and wood crashed as her assailant threw himself through the door and Zhie threw herself out the office window. The shooter was across the room in a heartbeat, just in time to see the end of Zhie's lab coat disappear over the embankment and out of sight.
"Damn," he swore softly, then ran for the door.
The embankment was twelve feet high, enough of a drop to hurt but not enough to recover before hitting the muddy creek bed. Zhie scrambled upright and ran along the embankment, following it as it swept away from the clinic and towards the woods. As she flew into the trees, something whizzed past her ear, making her flinch. Only then did she hear the report of the gun.
She ran inside the the tree line and blazed on, nimble cheetah reflexes letting her glide through the forest as easily as an open plain. When she was confident she had outdistanced her attacker, she slowed to a jog, and began to gather her thoughts.
"Sombody just tried to kill me," she said aloud. "Somebody just tried to kill ME!" she added indignantly. "Who the hell-" Then she slapped her forehead with her palm and dug her cell phone out of her pocket. She paged through the numbers in the memory to the desired one and hit "talk". She listened to the line as it rang twice, then was picked up.
"Slaine!" the caninoid said.
"Slaine' yourself," Zhie replied merrily. "Hey, Fianna, I just did the funniest thing. I re-read ‘The Revolt‘, the part where you killed me, and I decided I like it after all. Very gruesome. The exploding eyeballs were a nice touch."
"You're not getting off that easily," the nincompoop replied. "I promised you a better death, and now I'm gonna deliver. I've got it all planned out: the escape from the clinic, run through the woods, lots of near misses and guest appearances before he blows your brains out." The dog was quiet a moment, then amended, "Or maybe a gut shot would be better? More dramatic, lots of gushing blood and screams of 'Why, God, why?!' before you croak?"
Still jogging, Zhie began counting backwards from ten. She made it to eight. "Hey pal, this is not fair. I deserve a fighting chance at survival! How would you like it if I did this to you in 'Intermission'?!"
She could practically hear the dog grin. "You'd actually have to write something to make that a meaningful threat," he said. Then she heard him say faintly, as if to someone else, "We call that 'tactics'."
"I'm beginning to understand why so many people want you dead," Zhie snarled. "Dammit, Fianna, you OWE me! You gave me a sucky death in 'Revolt', you made a joke out of my navy--"
"You invaded my country!" Fianna cried indignantly.
"You murdered my vice-president!" Zhie countered
"Heh, well yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?" the dog chortled. "Okay, I'll give you a chance to survi-"
"I want two uzis and a crate of hand grenades and -" Zhie blurted, but was interrupted by Fianna's laughter.
"You get a clue and some cannon fodder," he chuckled. " The clue is: to save your ass, find out why he's after it."
"And the cannon fodder?"
"You've left your hunter in the dust, so go three hundred yards west and stop by the bushes," the dog said, and disconnected.
Zhie wondered at Fianna's advice, but she knew the dog's reputation. She snapped the cell phone shut and altered course. Like others of her race, she could sprint for only two miles, but she could maintain a comfortable trot indefinitely, and soon covered the prescribed distance.
She found herself in a region where the trees were spaced a good distance from each other. The clearing was ringed with bushes, and she was about to curse Fianna for not being more specific, when she noticed a thick clump, larger than the others, towards the back. She trotted over to it, stopped and waited, panting slightly.
"Out for a run?" the bushes said.
"Either burst into flames or come out where I can see you," Zhie snapped, her patience wearing thin.
The shrubbery shifted and Chanur stepped into view. The leonine Hani warrior was clad in his usual garb, his AP held barrel-down in his right hand.
"You're Zhie, right?" he said, and smiled a little too warmly. "So, come to this neck of the woods often?"
"Sure, my husband brings me here all the time," she replied, and noticed the Hani's ears drooped a little in disappointment. "But I need some help, if you wouldn't mind. There's a guy after me."
Chanur swelled his chest and looked angrily in the direction she had come. His voice was two octaves lower when he growled, "You want me to stop him for you?"
My god, I can almost smell the testosterone, Zhie thought. To Chanur she said, "This is a bad place to lay an ambush, too much cover. Let's move a little west and see if we can catch him in the open."
Chanur nodded, and they moved off through the woods. Zhie noticed the gloom was thickening slightly as the sun went lower in the sky.
"I'm not going to hit on her, she's married! That would be rude, and wrong, and immoral!"
"Wha?" Zhie said, stopping short and staring at Chanur.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the Hani said sheepishly. "That was Chris, my author. He was worried I might try to hit on you." Chanur drew himself up to his full height and said, "Don't bother yourself about it, though, I set him straight."
Zhie blinked. "This, uhm, you said, 'Chris'? Does he speak to you often?"
"Well, not all the time. Just when he has something on his mind, or he wants something done," Chanur said.
"Yeah. And how long have you been listening to 'Chris'?" Zhie asked.
"Oh, ever since I realized I was a figment of his imagination," Chanur replied.
Zhie stared at him a moment, then reached into her pocket and pulled out her business card. She handed it to Chanur and said, "If we survive this, call my nurse and set up an appointment."
Chanur looked at the card. "According to this, you're an ob-gyn and sex therapist."
"There's some overlap. I once had to convince Tygra his penis wasn't Richard Simmons," she said.
Suddenly, the tree-tops gave a mighty shake over their heads, and both Zhie and Chanur sprang away as a small form crashed to the earth where they had been standing. Instantly the creature bounded to it's feet, smiling broadly. It looked like a fat, wet monkey in suspenders.
"Greetings!" the monkey blared. "I am Dirka, a Hydromatic Whaddafuh, from the planet Mon-chi-chi-muh!"
"Gods in stars and garters, I damn near blasted you! What the fuck kinda stunt was that?!" Chanur snapped.
"Precisely!" Dirka crowed.
Zhie and Chanur looked at each other a moment, then Zhie shrugged. "It's simpler just to play along," she said.
A shot rang out, and again Zhie heard a sound like an angry hornet buzzing past her ear. "Take cover!" she yelled, jumping behind a tree. Her companions did likewise, and for several moments, nobody moved.
"Flessidoria?" she heard her assailant yell. "You're only drawing this out! Surender, and I promise you won't suffer!"
"Why does that voice sound so familiar?" Zhie said.
"Zhie," Chanur hissed. When she and Dirka looked, he said, "There's a game trail about fifteen feet that way," he pointed to a patch of brush behind them. "Keep the trees between you and his position and he won't see you. Follow it north and it'll take you towards Snarfria."
"What about you?" Zhie said.
"I'm going to circle around and try to get the drop on him," Chanur said, hefting his AP.
Zhie grimaced, Fianna's promise of "cannon-fodder" coming to mind, but Chanur was gone before she could say anything. She gestured to Dirka and the two slipped quietly towards the brush.
********
Chanur's years in Hermitage had honed his natural Hani talents to a razor's edge, and he slid from cover into the scrub as silently and invisibly as a shadow. He heard Zhie and Dirka making their way to safety, and would have winced at the noise if it had not served to mask any minor sounds he might make.
His estimate of the gunman's location put Chanur halfway there when he heard movement in the clearing. He froze and waited until the movement stopped, just a few feet from his position. Peering out through the brush, he saw a man in a long, high-collared black coat facing away from him, looking with care around the tree he'd sheltered behind. His back was to Chanur.
The Hani rose wraith-like from the brush and aimed his AP at the stranger's back. "No sudden moves, pal. Raise your hands and turn around slowly."
The attacker froze at the sound of Chanur's voice, then raised both hands above his head. He turned, and Chanur could not contain his gasp of suprise.
"Harrison Ford?!" he blurted. "What are you doing here?!"
"I'm afraid that's confidential, son," Ford said without ire. The actor's steely gaze never left Chanur's as he lowered his hands.
"Not so fast, Mister Ford," Chanur said, gesturing with his AP. "You don't want me to use this. One shell will destroy anything within fifty yards."
"You realize that includes you, right?" Ford said. Chanur's eyes widened, the barrel of the AP wavered slightly as he glanced down at the weapon.
And Harrison Ford, with a quick-draw that would have made Han Solo proud, shot him in the gut. Chanur toppled backwards in a gout of blood, his AP discharging into the air, where it blew the hell out of the tree tops and frightend squirrels for miles around.
As he lay on the ground, a low moan issuing from his blood-flecked lips, Ford stood over him and said, "Sorry, kid, you got cocky. I can't let anything prevent me from finishing this job."
Chanur looked at him and wheezed, "You were great in 'Air Force One'." Then the Hani hacked up a gob of gore and cried, "Why Chris, why?!" and perished.
Ford nudged the corpse with his boot, returned his blaster to it's holster and said, "Who the hell is Chris?"
******
Zhie and Dirka came off the trail by a dumpster behind the Snarf-Mart shopping center. They ran around the side of the building to the parking lot and paused while they got their bearings.
"My office is in the strip mall three miles down the road," Zhie said. "It's too far to sprint, and that goon may be waiting there anyway."
"I can take him!" Dirka said. "I have powers!"
"Powers?" Zhie asked
"Big powers! Powerful powers! Whaddafuh powers!!" the wet monkey brayed.
"It's that last one that has me worried," Zhie said. "Besides, direct confrontation won't work, it's not Fianna's style. He said, 'To save your ass, figure out why he's after it.' Now why would this guy be after my ass?"
Dirka produced a set of pom-poms and began waving them around, yelling, "Go Zhie, go Zhie!"
"Tell you what, Dirka, give me the pom-poms and listen to my ideas, okay?" Zhie said menacingly. The monkey forked over the poms sheepishly and Zhie said, "Why would anyone want me dead?"
"I don't know," Dirka said. "The only guy who ever feuded with you was Chanur, and he tried to help."
Zhie ran down her mental list of enemies, and could think of none this tenacious. Slighted patients, overcharged, undermedicated, lobotomized, nothing seemed to fit.
"I'm going about this wrong," she said finally. "Fianna is behind this, there's got to be a different answer."
Dirka shrugged. "He's not very logical, is he?" she said.
"No, that's where you're wong," Zhie said absently. "Fianna is very, very logical, but it's his own logic. Now what have I said or done in the last six weeks or so that might have set him off?" Zhie was quiet a moment, then blurted, "OH SHIT!"
Before Dirka could say anything, Zhie grabbed her by the arm and hauled her into the parking lot, looking everywhere.
"C'mon, it's Tuesday, I know you're here some place," the cheetah said.
"Who? Where? What?" Dirka rattled.
"YES!" Zhie yelled, and dragged Dirka to a white Mercedes convertible idling in the fire lane in front of the Fantastic Snarf's hair salon. She threw Dirka into the passenger's seat, vaulted into the driver's seat, dropped the car into gear and floored the accellerator, peeling rubber across the parking lot and out.
Behind them, Thunderwolf charged out of the salon, half his mane in curlers, waving his fist at the retreating duo and shouting imprecations best lost in the roar of the engine.
Dirka stood up on her seat, waving her arms and howling for joy as the wind whipped the water from her fur. Meanwhile, Zhie dug out her cell phone and dialed quickly.
"Smithers? Zhie. I need you to pull all of my personal financial records for the past sixty days. Yes, yes, I know you were in the hospital, I'm not blaming you. Dammit, man, get a grip on yourself! I can't have you crying on me when my ass is on the line!"
"Zhie!" Dirka yelled as the doctor broke the connection. "We're being followed, and they're gaining on us!"
"There's nobody in the mirror!" Zhie said irritably. "What are you talking about?!"
"Not there!" Dirka said. Dropping into her seat and pointed behind them and up, she said, "There!"
Zhie risked a glance over her shoulder and gasped. A hover car was streaking towards them. A hover car she recognized.
"A bladerunner!" she said. "That green, Guinness-gulping nincompoop sent a goddamn bladerunner after me!" Then a hole magically appeared in the Merc's windshield, surrounded by a spiderweb of cracks, and all of her attention was diverted to taking evasive action.
Harrison Ford could taste victory. Firing left-handed out the window of his hovercar, he manuevered the vehicle lower, closer, bringing himself within range for a perfect shot at the fleeing cheetah. He aimed, and it felt good , it felt right. He knew he had her at last.
Then, with a loud splat, his windshield was completely covered by a wet monkey.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" he screamed, yanking his hand inside and scrambling at the controls.
"My fame precedes me!" the monkey hooted. Driving blind, Ford's hovercar listed hard, it's right front bumper tearing into the pavement. It rebounded, and Dirka used the momentum, added to her own prodigious leaping ability, to hurl herself aloft and forward. She landed back in the passenger's seat of the Benz, splattering Zhie on impact.
"I hope that's just water," Zhie said, wiping her face, she looked in her mirror and saw the hovercar, still careening wildly, falling further and further behind them. "Nice job, Dirka."
The monkey beamed as they streaked toward Zhie's driveway, barely two miles ahead.
********
Faero was watching the Packers game in the living room, recalling the of days of old when they actually had a Superbowl shot. Then his wife raced by him at top speed, "Hi, honey, I'm home," floating back in the wake of her passing. The male quadraped raised an eyebrow, then dismissed it. He was happier not knowing.
Then a creature resembling a fat, wet monkey in bright yellow suspenders tore past him, leaving a puddle of moisture with every step. "What the fuck?" the snow leopard growled, and heard the monkey giggle as it shot after his wife. Then he shook his head and returned his attention to the game. He was better off not knowing.
When, four or five minutes later, Harrison Ford stormed through in a black trenchcoat, blaster drawn, Faero snorted in disgust and clicked the television off and stormed off to the bed room. He had no way of knowing, and he was determined to keep it that way.
**********
"SMITHERS!"
"Here, doctor!" the Simpsons flunky said from the computer in the office. Zhie flew through the door, pulled Dirka through after her, and slammed it shut, locking it. "I found the file you wanted, it's pulled up right here."
"Good," she said, taking his place at the desk. "Now would you be so kind as to go to the end of the hall and wait? See that we're not disturbed?"
"Um, yes doctor," Smither said, obviously confused. He exited the office, Dirka locking the door behind him. Zhie scanned the records on the screen, then closed the file. She clicked on Internet Explorer, then on an icon in her Favorites list.
"Login, password, Christ, why didn't I get a cable modem?" Zhie grumled, her fingers flying over the keys as she entered a series of numbers and clicked "transmit".
From down the hall, they heard a single gunshot, then Smithers's scream of, "Why Doctor, why?!" Then footsteps, coming closer. Dirka gave an alarmed squeak and wrung her hands, spilling water on the floor.
"C'mon, c,mon," Zhie growled as the laser printer began to produce paper. "For God's sake, c'mon!"
Then the door crashed in, Harrison Ford crossed the room in two strides and pushed his weapon against Zhie's temple, just as she tore the printout from the computer and thrust it in his face.
Nobody moved. Then Ford stepped away from Zhie and holstered his weapon. "Alright kid, looks like you pulled it off this time. But remember, if it happens again, I'll be back." Then he turned and left. Zhie let out an exhausted sigh and sat down hard in her chair, dropping the paper on the floor.
"What the fuck?" Dirka said weakly.
Zhie fished in her pocket and produced a prescription pad and a pen. She scribbled a few lines on the first page, and both Chanur and Smithers appeared in the room with two loud pops. They spent a disoriented minute checking themselves for abnormal holes, then turned their attention to Zhie.
"I can take a joke," the Hani said irritably. "But I'd at least like to be in on it. What the hell happened here?"
Zhie leaned back in her chair, put her feet on the desk and laced her hands behind her head.
"A few months ago, Smithers suffered an unfortunate household accident," she began. When Smithers looked as though he might say something, she shot him a withering look that silenced his objection before it could be voiced. "It landed him in the hospital for several weeks, during which I was forced to hire a fill-in. The only person the agency had was Barney the Purple Dinosaur, and being desperate, I took him."
"I remember hearing about that," Chanur said. "Didn't you fire him for gross incompetence?"
"That, and I didn't like the way he kept asking the neighbor's kids if they wanted some candy," Zhie continued. "Unfortunately, by the time I got read of him, he'd already fouled up my finances worse than if I'd let everything set till Smithers got back."
"Well, doctor, I did tell you-"
"Shut up, Smithers," Zhie said off-handedly. "If you'd been doing your job competently, this wouldn't have happened."
Smithers bristled. "That purple moron left everything in such a disaster, I can HARDLY be blamed if a bill was overlooked in putting things back in order!"
"Waitaminnit, wait," Chanur said. "You mean this was about an overdue bill? Jesus Christ, Zhie, who do you owe money to, the Slinky mob?"
"Worse," she said. "Microbot, a subsidiary of Microsoft that specializes in cybernetic enhancements. According to the contract, if my account gets sixty days in arrears, they have the right to--"
"'Installment contract for one set of buttocks'," Dirka interrupted, reading aloud from the paper Zhie had dropped. "'Thank you for your credit card payment. Your account is now current. All repossession activity will be stopped immediately. Have a nice day.'"
Chanur exploded into laughter. "He really was after your ass!"
"Why would anyone want to have their butt replaced with cybernetics?" Smithers wondered aloud.
"According to this, the replacment unit was two sizes smaller than the original equipment," Dirka observed before Zhie snatched the receipt out of her hand.
After saying her thanks and goodnights, Zhie sent her guests with Smithers for some refreshments and got to her feet, exhausted. As she stood, her hand bumped a pile of new mail, knocking some of the letters over. She hesitated, then noticed one labeled "URGENT!" in bright red block text. It was addressed to Faero, the return address said, "Fur Club for Leopards".
Then, from the ceiling overhead, she heard the buzz of electric shears powering up.
The End
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