”You’ll catch more corpo’s with honey than with hand grenades. Honey hand grenades on the other hand…” They said with a wink.
Samurai Bee-Dazzler, in an interview.
***
Vincent woke up squished against his sister Tabitha, who was in turn squished up against their mother, inside the under ventilated insta-crete dome for the 19th day in a row. He lay there, soaked in sweat like he always did.
26 days ago an incursion had hit Hamburg. It had taken almost a week to clear out the antithesis threat; with Samurai, PMC, and European Defense battalions all working together. Vincent and his family had fled to shelters on that day along with the vast majority of the city's population.
Hamburg had excellent emergency protocols, and had instituted monthly drills as mandatory years ago. When they’d been evacuated from shelters to the camps, they were told over 90% of the population had survived. The infrastructure though had not done well, more than 50% of the city had been flattened, or rendered uninhabitable.
Vincent grumbled in his mind again about the samurai who had chosen the cheapest shelter catalogue ever. Insta-crete dome, insta-crete door with no lock, insta-crete table, with two two insta-crete stools built into one side. If you were over a metre twenty tall, you had to lean away or crick your neck to the side while you sat at it. The single bed frame on the other side was barely wide enough for two children, let alone the number of people being shoved into most. At least the mattress wasn’t insta-crete, though he wasn’t sure that wouldn’t have been much worse. It was thin, and did nothing to wick away heat or sweat.
Vincent was building up the motivation to wiggle his way out from between his sister and the wall, so he could go grab some tasteless nutrition bars from the grey boxy machines the same corpo hugging Samurai had left behind, when a strange sound perked up his ears; Someone outside was laughing, no not someone, many someones, and it wasn’t the rare sardonic, or resigned jaded laughter, the past two weeks had limited people too. It was genuine, from the heart, full bellied, joyful, ridiculous laughter. He could swear there was cheerful music hidden just below the loud giggling of children.
“Tabby!” Vincent whispered loudly, while shaking his sister. “Somethings going on, or I’m going crazy. Wake up! Do you hear that?”
Tabitha grumbled and tried to roll away, only to squish against their mother. “Lemme sleep Vin, there’s nothing out…” Her voice trailed off as the sounds grew louder in the small space.
The sudden “oom pah pah” of a tuba just outside the door had both ladies sitting bolt upright in shock. They looked back and forth to one another, as they paused to absorb the moment. In hushed silence they stood and quickly dressed, each trying to hide their concern. Despite the joyful tilt to the sounds, they could not bring themselves to hope that they heralded anything good, the last 3 weeks of promises and disappointments had drilled hope out of their vocabulary.
***
Not too far away, a balding man was turning red in the face while yelling at a clown with a confused look on her face.
“NO NO NO!! You can’t just roll in here and start disrupting our refugee camp! We have a delicate balance to maintain! You are going to cause a riot! Get out, Get Out, GET OUT!” He waved to several armed men nearby as if ordering them to remove the woman from the premises.
The guards looked away, or rechecked their weapons, large soldiers trying to disappear into the background, eyes flicking between their boss and the erratic clown that had dropped from the sky.
Cassy looked at him, her head tilted far to the left. Very slowly, she tilted it all the way to the right. “Hmmm, I dunno what you mean Barty, he doesn’t look at all like a bowling pin, far too skinny.”
Turning away from him with a spin on the tiptoe of one bright red shoe, Cassy planted the other firmly in a puff of dust, arm outstretched, pointed at a gawping passerby. “You! Think fast. Ice cream and cotton candy, or sausages and deep fried cookies?”
The woman with frazzled hair, and dead eyes stared at Cassy uncomprehendingly, while pushing her child behind her protectively. The child struggled against her mothers restraining arms, managing to peek her head out. “Sausage? Ice-cream?” She said in a quiet, slightly confused, but hopeful voice.
Cassy stared back at the young girl, her own mouth hanging open a moment. “SAUSAGE ICE CREAM!? Barty! Why have we never tried sausage ice cream?” Cassy spread her feet wide, and hefted her massive carnival hammer off of her back. “One giant, Sausage ice cream, let's get this celebration started fountain, coming up!”
With a bend of her knees, and release of sproingy shoe springs, Cassy launched into the air, pulling her hammer up over her head, laughing gleefully. Many metres into the air, gravity reaffirmed its hold upon the maniacal woman in motley, and she came crashing down to the ground, swinging her hammer down to land, mallet head first, in a cloud of dust, confetti and sparkles.
The girl, her mother, the guards, and the apoplectic official, were all buffeted by a wave of cool, sweet, salty air. As the cloud of glitter and confetti thinned they beheld Cassy standing proudly, hammer on her shoulder, grin on her face, beside a massive multi tiered fountain full of ice cream, with sausages sticking out at random, with chocolate sauce running in rivulets from a spout on the top.
“Alright, child of many excellent ideas, Where should we put the roller coaster?” Cassy asked, grinning while still holding her heroic pose.
The young girl had escaped her mothers stunned clutches, and was already shoving fistfulls of ice cream and sausage into her mouth. She looked over at Cassy, and back at the delight in front of her, one small hand reached out and pointed vaguely over there, while the other kept pushing more of the strange concoction into her mouth.
“Another great idea!” Cassy crowed. “Come find me later, you are an amazing assistant, and those are hard to find.” With a wink and a nod, the clown strode away toward where the girl had pointed. The increasingly red faced official marched after her, yelling more vehemently, and pointing at the guards to remove the ice cream tower.
Of the trio, only two guards tentatively stepped forward to do as ordered. The eyes of the cherub topping the fountain swivelled toward them, tracking their movement. When they showed no signs of stopping, ports opened on the flowers adorning the edge, as they too swivelled to face the guards. One more tentative step forward had the flowers opening up on them, hozing them down with a thick sticky caramel sauce that kept them stuck to the insta-crete path.
***
About 18 hours earlier.
Cassy was floating weightlessly in a plummeting Time Flies. “Why do they call it the Vomit Comet Barty? This is amazing! I don’t feel sick at all!
Cassy slammed none too gently into the bean bag covered floor of her flying watch as Time Flies levelled off, and arched back into another rapid accent. With her face squished into a bean bag pilot's chair, she noticed that the archaic looking tv had popped out of the control console, flashing “You've got mail” in swirly letters.
“Hey! We've got mail! I hope it's the confetti catalogue.”
I'm afraid not, it seems to be a video message from a very new Samurai. It appears to be in German.
“Do we know any Germans Barty?”
Maybe, I don't recall the nationality of everyone we’ve met, I assume we know at least one German though, but we don't know this German for sure, nor do you know how to speak German, which they are speaking. I will translate, just ignore that the lip flapping doesn’t match the sounds.
The screen began to play a grainy black and white video of a young man from the shoulders up.
“Guten day. I need help. I'm new at this, I trusted bad people, and my people are suffering for it. They said they would only be in the shelters for a few days. That bare basics was fine. I'm new, my points are limited.”
The young man looked down, taking a deep breath and putting hands to face for a moment.
“They've been in those awful grey domes for more than two weeks. Cleanup hasn't even started, let alone reconstruction. Corpo’s are being *#$## *##$#, holding out for better deals, for more profit. I don't have enough clout, or points, or anything, to change things.”
“I found your number in a box of caramel popcorn that I bought from the stress relief catalogue. My AI says they didn’t put it there. At this point, I’m willing to reach out to anyone, even strangers who leave calling cards in caramel corn. Please help, I want to fix my mistakes. The people of Hamburg need us.”
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
The message ended just as Time Flies started another descent, sending Cassy back into freefall. Cassy pushed off from one side of the TF’s crystal cockpit, corkscrewing her way to the other side. “Set course for Saskatchewan TF, I think we are going to need help with this one, I have no idea how to build a train line… Barty, call MoG, we’re cashing in that favour.”
We owe her three favours, not the other way around.
“Maybe she'll have forgotten?” Cassy replied with false hope, Barty remained silent. “Fiiine! I guess we'll make her a wager, maybe she'll want to meet the creator of Chessers?”
Please, don't remind me of that game. No human mind should have been able to create something that convoluted.
Calling Mistress of Games.
Cassy found herself face planting against the cockpits camera as TF levelled off, and MoG picked up. “How nice to hear from you… Cassy, um, dear, are you trying to hug me through the camera? I’m flattered, but that's not really how those things work.”
Cassy pushed herself up and off the communication equipment. “Not through the camera, although hugging cameras is a great idea, but no! I’m flying to hug you for real!” Cassy paused, distracted for a moment by the thought of sending hugs via camera, with a shake of her head, she arrived back on topic. “So, want to play a city building game? But in real life? Barty says there are Hamburgers in it for everyone!”
“That's.. no. Hystus has given me the info. It's in the City of Hamburg, in Germany.”
“You don't speak German do you?” MoG deadpanned.
“Joy needs no words! Only colours!” Cassy shouted gleefully, throwing pocket confetti into the air with both hands.
“I'm sending you a translation device… apparently in the shape of a red nose. Hystus why is it? Oh, fine, don't tell me.”
A round red clown nose shimmered into existence on Time Flies console, knocking over a can of spray string that had somehow stayed up right through multiple parabolic arcs of free fall.
“Neat! New accessories!” Chimed Cassy, as she placed it upon her face, it clamped to her nose with pop..
“No need to come get me dear, I can meet you there, I’ll need to gather a few things first. I’ve never tried bringing a computer sim game into physicality before… You get there quick and start taking care of the people in the camps. I'll be right behind you after I’ve got a strategy all worked out, to handle the conniving corporations and the rebuilding. But first, about that wager?”
Cassy slipped a finger into her collar, pulling it out from her neck. “TF, its feeling a bit warm in here”
***
Tabitha held out a protective arm in front of her brother as they eased the insta-crete door of their dome open, her face set in grim expectation. “Stay quiet, we don’t know what’s going on, or how many credits they might charge us for even looking at it.”
A high pitched voice erupted out of a child running toward them down the lane domes. “Tabby! Vin-Vin! You have to come! There’s so much, just so much, everything!” The final word was punctuated with wild wide gesticulations, splattering the family with a rainbow of condiments from the burger clutched in one hand.
Vincent wiped a glob off of his face and licked it from his finger, a small smile played at his lips. “Vincent! Don’t! We don’t know where she got that, or how much debt she might be in now.” Tabitha reached a hand to stop her brother from licking more off of himself.
“Casey,” Tabitha started, “Where did you get that food, what did you have to sign to get it? Does your dad know? What’s going on?”
Casey shoved their half eaten burger into Vincent's hands, he hadn't stopped staring at it. “No, no! It’s ok! It’s all free! This awesome clown lady fell out of the sky in a bubble, and landed on an aaamazing bike, she let me ride it. There’s a rubber rabbit with a cute hat… Oh! But then, then she started just tossing out food, and rides, and games, and showers, and makeovers… Just not very good ones, unless you like your face painted by balloons with huge brushes…”
Casey paused to turn around and pick up a balloon bear. “Say Aaaaah Ms. Growly” The bear's mouth opened and hard candy imprinted with the letters ZEP slid out into Casey’s hand, and promptly from hand into her mouth. “And she’s giving toys too! And the corpo guys are sooo mad. But they can’t do anything or she covers them in caramel. C’mon! Let's go!!” Casey was practically bouncing with excitement, or perhaps too much sugar, if there even is such a thing.
Vincent looked back and forth between the two ladies in his family, chewing vigorously. “Cam we mom?” He asked, eyes sparkling, burger bits spraying from his mouth.
Sophie looked to her children, Vincent excited, Tabitha confused and sceptical. She remembered the last weeks spent slowly slipping into melancholy. “Come on you two, if Casey says it’s worth checking out, we’ll have to see for ourselves.” Sophie let the first smile in days grow on her face, as she felt faint rays of fresh hope shine in her breast. She grabbed her family by the hands and headed towards the chaos, noise, and wonderful smells.
As the quad travelled through the rows of insta-crete domes they saw groups of balloon animals, somewhat larger than Ms. Growly still held in Casey’s arms. They wore little yellow hard hats and clutched plastic toy tools. They would gather around a dome, and swarm upon it, swinging and sawing away in a growing cloud of glitter and dust. In their wakes they left rows of multicoloured tents, larger, taller, and looking far cooler than the old domes.
Sceptical Tabitha paused to look inside one. “Bigger and cooler sure, but we’re still stuck in the camps while the corps try to wring the government for every mark they can before they even look at rebuilding.”
A refugee passing by paused at hearing her words. “You don’t have to worry about that, there is another Samurai over in the old city taking care of it. The young man who set up all this is helping her. Apparently he brought them here. And don’t worry about missing out. Ms. Cassy The Clown has assured us she won’t leave until every last one of us has a home again, she’s even offered to add a freezer just for ice-cream in every home.” He add the last part in a pretend whisper, and a wink.
Sofie nodded with a smile to the stranger. “Thank you passerby, for that well timed and informative exposition.” With a new hop in their steps the 4 dashed off to find something to brighten their day.
***
The world seemed to slow to a crawl as Cassy heard the cry of a child behind her, turning she watched in horror as a bright bubblegum ice cream cone tumbled from a child's hand onto the ground, splattering into the dirt.
Cassy’s eyes tracked up, from the cone, to the girl, to the corpo creep that had slapped it from her hand. He’d been shouting something, more of the same that she’d been ignoring since she got here. The words were meaningless, she’d asked Barty to stop translating his sounds very early in the day.
For the moment Cassy ignored the man, and the look of realisation and horror growing on his face. She only had eyes for the young child with empty hands, and a fading smile. With a thought, and burst of confetti a new cone was in the girl's hand. Cassy scooped her up and spun her around, making silly faces, and sounds. Her quick thinking managed to avert the tears that had started to form in the corners of her eyes. She set down the now giggling child beside a fresh pair of panda balloons and pointed her toward the people Barty pinged as her guardians.
Cassy The Clown paused for a moment, watching the giggling girl get scooped up by concerned adults, who nodded at her gratefully before disappearing back into the carnival. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slow, while resting her hammer on her shoulder.
Cassy spoke loudly to Barty, projecting even more than usual, it wasn’t really Barty she was aiming her words at. “Barty, is the joy killer still standing there? Is the man who dared to waste ice cream, and almost made a child cry, at MY Carnival; Still waiting behind me?” Cassy’s eye twitched, her smile threatened to shrink. She refused to turn around just yet, she did not like the feeling growing in her chest.
It seems a day of screaming has finally taken his voice from him. He appears to be moving quite quickly, almost breaking into a run really, toward a nearby vehicle that he just signalled to start.
“Good! If he strays from the most direct path, or slows down, or tries to cause more trouble, or anything that doesn’t get him as far away from me as fast as he possibly can, have some of the burrliest balloons carry him out, and tell them to be only slightly gentle.”
Cassy paused to gather her thoughts. She grabbed a burger out of the air that Sgt. Fluffle had launched toward her. She took a huge, somewhat aggressive bite, and chewed, allowing the just greasy enough to be amazing flavours, calm her nerves. “How is everything else going? Are any of the guards still causing trouble?”
Nope! They have mostly taken off their gear and taken your offer to grab a ride in a bubble to the city to help MoG and Hausmann with clean up and reconstruction efforts. As have many of the adult refugees. I think they are happy to be able to feel useful again. The few guards that refused to disobey their corporate overlords, have been rewarded for their loyalty with a generous helping of caramel, and are currently being posed around the red faced man's car.
“Hausmann?” Cassy asked while making the half eaten burger disappear into a pocket and began pulling out copious balloons from her pockets.
Mistress took it upon herself to name the young man who reached out for help. She thought it apro-po to name him after houses. She asked me to tell you it’s going to take a few days before people can start moving back in. And also, despite how fun it sounds, slippy slides will not work as an effective replacement for buses or trains.
“Good name choice, I approve. Although another clown would have been nice.” Cassy said with a mock pout and a puff of her cheeks. “After I’m done making this giant rideable lizard that in no way infringes on any old Japanese copyrights, we will install our own slippy slidey transit system. Everyone should get a chance to slide all the way to breakfast at least once.”
Cassy got to work, bending and twisting her constantly growing pile of tubular balloons to fulfil the image in her mind of a 4 story, corporate headquarters crushing, lizard made of balloons. Her grin finally returned to its full brimming brightness it had been before she’d heard Hausmann’s message over a full day ago. “This is going to take awhile, lend me a few hands Barty?”
Right away oh Cassy, my Cassy… Or is that captain… anyway… HANDS!
A dozen white gloved hands appeared in a puff of glitter dust around Cassy. They each extended multi jointed meccano-like arms that clipped to her motley, making her in no way resemble a spider. Each hand began grabbing and twisting balloons to help build Cassy’s latest vision for bringing joy. “You are going to be amazing CHCL, everyone is going to love you. Would you like to be hollow, so people can ride inside? Or…
***
A little distance away Time flies was wrapping a large bubble around a very special delivery for a very special corporation. Into the bubble beneath her she put a cluster of caramelised corpos, and their leader, who had locked himself in his car. Barty had given her directions to their home office in Frankfurt. Satellite photos showed that it had a wonderful fountain in its front plaza, it was decided by unanimous vote among Cassy’s Crew that it could use some new super sweet decorations. It might take them a while to get there though. The unanimous vote had also decided that even corporate creeps needed to have a bit of fun. Time Flies was going to introduce them to the joys of free fall via parabolic flight paths. Maybe they would learn why doing so was called the vomit comet after all.