Lavabull Page 2

  Chapter 3: Deal

  There he stood, a giant bull of a man, literally. Wide-set horns, thin whip-like tail, the rest human, clad in last week’s tattered cowboy suit. His body reeked of beer, and his mind reeked of frustration, futility, and shame.

  Lavender had mentally prepared an introductory speech somewhere along the lines of, “Hello, Mister Bull. I am Lavender; I have admired you from afar, and I have come to be your loyal companion. Please take me in and let me show you what I can do for you. I do have useful talents, such as telepathy and the ability to change my shape.” When he balked at such a sudden commitment, she would try to sweetly reason with him, leaning forward to give him a conducive peek of her ample bosom, to persuade him that she really did belong in his life. She did know how to make an impression on a man.

  Instead her words preceded her thoughts. “You’re drunk!”

  “Not yet, but trying hard,” he said. “Whatever you’re selling, I can’t afford it and don’t want it. Now get out of here before I vomit on you.”

  His mind was indeed in a vomitus state. She closed it off for the moment, as getting into it made her feel dizzy and disgusted. She should be able to handle this much on her own. It was clear he needed serious help.

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Now she did the leaning forward bit.

  “I told you I don’t want any.” But it required no mind reading to know that he did want something, and not just a peek at her bosom. He just didn’t know how to express it.

  “Thank you,” she said. She pushed by him and entered the house. It was a total mess. “First let’s make some space.” The couch was upside down in the corner, half buried in beer cans. She gripped the edge of it and exerted her strength, turning it over. Then she looked up.

  The Bull was staring at her. “You heaved it over!”

  “Somebody needed to,” she snapped. “Now clean up those cans so we have space for our feet. We have to talk.”

  “But you’re a girl!”

  “And now you’re two for two. Are you going to get with the program?”

  He seemed dazed. “Program?”

  “Clean up the cans. Then sit down here with me so we can talk about our relationship.”

  He began to swell up belligerently. “Who the hell are you to come in here and boss me around?”

  This required a stronger measure. She stepped into him, used a hand to haul his head down, and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

  It was as if a bomb went off in his skull. He had dreamed of something like this, which was one reason she did it. He secretly wanted to be governed by a woman, a pretty one, who understood and accepted him, as no other woman did.

  Then he turned around and started using his tail to sweep the cans into piles in the corners. The main floor was soon bare.

  Lavender sat on the couch and looked around. The room was in a sorry state, with horn-gores in the walls and crates of beer cans stacked in a far corner. He really was trying to drink himself into oblivion. Well, she would put a stop to that. When he had the empty cans clear, she caught his eye and patted the seat beside her.

  Meekly, he obeyed, coming to sit where indicated. “You won’t be needing that drug any more,” she said. “We’ll stack the crates in a back room and forget about them.”

  “But—”

  “You drink to try to wash out your disgust with your own sorry state. That will change as of now. You have talents, but you’re almost broke because people have been taking advantage of you. That has to stop.”

  “I know that!” he flared.

  “Of course. I read it in your mind. You need to get organized.”

  “You read my mind?”

  “I’m telepathic. You have a problem with that?”

  He was beginning to focus. “I guess not. You’re no ordinary girl.”

  “I’m not,” she agreed. “Just as you’re no ordinary man.”

  “You have horns. Tail.”

  “It’s about time you noticed. I’m the same as you, at least in the ways that count. I’m only part human; the rest is a savage force of nature. You can’t make it with an ordinary girl. They’re afraid of you, and way too fragile.” She got that too from his mind.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “Rephrase that question, please.”

  “The hell I will! You can’t just—”

  He stopped, because she had kissed him again.

  After the explosion in his skull dissipated, he regrouped. He was catching on that he was beaten in this respect. “I—I apologize for my language. What I mean is, why are you here?”

  Now was the time for candor. “I’m a misfit, like you, as I said. I’m half human and half volcanic lava. Regular men are afraid of me, with good reason. I am literally too hot to handle, if I choose to be. I read about you, and decided that you could use my help and my love. You’ve got more power than brains, at least in the way you manage your life. I’m good at getting along, when I have to. I can help you manage, too.” She knew from his mind that this was what he wanted.

  “I do need help,” he agreed. “But why should a pretty girl like you bother with me? Nobody else has.”

  “Because I think that together we can make a lot more of ourselves than we can apart. You’re a lot more man than I’ve encountered elsewhere, so I’ve come to be your girlfriend. That’s just the beginning.”

  “My girlfriend? The beginning? Are you insane?”

  “Who knows, maybe? And this is the beginning of what I hope is a successful long-term collaboration. We aren’t misfits to each other.”

  “Girlfriend,” he said in wonder, picking up on that detail. “Do you even know what that means?”

  “Yes. Remember, I know what’s in your mind, including the passion. I can handle it, physically and emotionally. But you don’t even know what romance is. You have no idea how to treat a girl you want to keep. So we won’t get in bed together until you have a better notion. Now you need to take a bath to soak off some of that grime, and put on clean clothing.”

  “But—

  “You need a girl who will love you. But for that you need to make yourself lovable. Or maybe more correctly love-a-bull. Or, better yet, lava-bull. I like it! Anyway, I’m telling you how.”

  “But—”

  “Do I have to kiss you again?”

  “You’re serious?”

  He was catching on to what she offered. He desperately wanted it. But she was not about to settle for drunk and disorderly. “I can strip you and scrub you and dress you if you wish. Your body hardly matters when I know your mind. So—”

  She was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. She got up and fetched it. “This is the residence of The Bull,” she said. “What can we do for you?”

  “He’s got a secretary?” the voice asked, amazed.

  “More than that. Get to the point.”

  “Listen, my company needs a load of tanks of diesel fuel, and we need them now. The regular delivery was stopped by a wreck. A damn drunk driver hit it and knocked the wiring loose. We need a man to put a chain on that wreck and haul it to the factory, and the local towing service won’t touch it this late in the day. It’s only a mile. The Bull can do it.”

  “Yes he can,” she said evenly. “What fee do you offer?”

  “Fee? The Bull doesn’t charge a fee.”

  “He does now.”

  “This is outrageous!”

  “Then get someone else to haul your truck. Nobody’s sponging off The Bull any more. Spread the word.”

  There was a pause. She wished she could read his mind, but that worked only at close range. So she was bluffing.

  “Fifty dollars,” the man said.

  “Two hundred dollars.”

  “Seventy five.”

  “A hundred and fifty.”

  “A hundred.”

  “Deal,” she agreed, hoping they weren’t being taken. “Where’s the truck?”

  In moments she had the location. “We�
��ll be there.”

  She disconnected and turned to The Bull. “Postpone that bath. We’ve got a deal. Where’s your car?”

  “Still in the shop from the last time I wrecked it. But I can run to the site.”

  “I can’t. I can do a lot, but I’m no distance runner.”

  “Then I’ll carry you.”

  She nodded. “Good enough. Let’s go.”

  They exited the house, he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, and ran at an incredible speed. Any ordinary girl would have been wiped out by the rough bouncing, but of course she wasn’t. Still, in due course she would teach him how to carry a lady. She didn’t really like having her legs over his shoulder and her skirt being blown up by the wind so that any oaf could see her exposed bottom.

  They reached the site. The Bull set her down. There was a chain on the truck. He took that and anchored it to the hoop in front. She got into the cab. He hauled, and the truck was moving at a good clip, considering.

  At the factory the manager came out to thank them. “You’re welcome,” Lavender said and held out her hand for the money. He gave it to her and she tucked it away. “We’re done here, Bull. Let’s go home.”

  The not really odd thing was that the manager approved. He knew The Bull needed supervision and a woman with gumption and a really tough hide. Then he would no longer be almost as much a menace to the community as an asset. Of course he wouldn’t say so openly, at least not to The Bull. But it was in his mind.

  The Bull picked her up again, same as before. She knew the manager’s eyes were bugging as her skirt flew up; she read his appreciative peek. Couldn’t be helped, this time.

  Back at his house she took over again. “Bath,” she ordered. “New clothes.”

  This time he didn’t try to argue. He went to the bathroom.

  “And soak your face in cold water,” she called after him. “You need to be sober for our next discussion.”

  Then she sat down and let go in a wash of reaction. She had played it tough because it was an emergency, but now she would have to persuade a sober and halfway sensible man that he really did want her in his life. That might not be easy.

  Chapter 4: Villainous

  World Media Transmission #1

  Greetings, I am Villainous.

  If you are hearing these words for the first time, it means one of two things: you are about to die, or I have failed.

  I do not plan to fail. I have taken careful steps not to fail. In fact, I have devoted my entire life to carrying out this plan, to assure its success—and to assure the total destruction of the earth.

  You see, I have grand plans. In fact, no one has ever accused me of not being ambitious. Sure, they’ve accused me of everything else under the sun—many nasty, nefarious, villainous things (and most of them are true, let me assure you)—but never have I been accused of thinking small.

  And this is big. Very, very big.

  Perhaps the biggest ever.

  Nothing short of the total destruction of this wretched rock we call planet Earth.

  You see, I think we have mostly gotten it all wrong. I think we could have done a better job of managing this planet, of managing its people, and managing its resources. I think we are rapidly heading to destruction, and I just can’t have that. Not on my watch, and not when I can do something about it.

  I do not want money. I do not want new technologies. I want only the chance to hit the reset button. I have plans for this planet. Big plans. New ideas. New governments. New family units. New everything. We are few, but we are ambitious, to say the least.

  But I can’t implement these plans if the rest of the world is hell bent on destroying itself and its precious resources. And I certainly don’t intend to be a target for the world’s mightiest powers.

  And so, I have disappeared from the limelight, so to speak. You might even recognize my voice. If so, you are correct. However, I go by a new name now. It’s only a temporary name, you see. It fits my mood. It fits my current temperament. After all, why should names be so permanent? Who made that rule up?

  New ideas, new names, new everything.

  I am Villainous, and if you are hearing my words, it might already be too late. After all, I have cooked up a helluva scheme. And soon all the world will tremble.

  But for now, you might have a few minutes, or a few days. After all, even I can’t predict when a volcano will explode, try as I might.

  But let me assure you, there is no stopping the damage... and the resulting poison that will spread. Sure, some of you might survive in your bomb shelters, and some of you might even make it a few months or years. But know this: I have thought of everything, and every last one of you—every last human and primate, that is—will understand what death is. Your destruction is imminent.

  So, I want to thank you for participating in the human race.

  Except now the race is finished.

  Game over.

  Chapter 5: Decision

  Lavender turned on the TV while waiting for The Bull to complete his cleanup. What came on at first confused her, then made her wonder. It seemed to be a repeating printed message from an anonymous source, threatening the destruction of the human species, and indeed, all primates. That was to say, monkeys who walked on two legs.

  Oh—it was a cheap video adventure. She had seen those before. The end of the world was a favorite theme. It always got saved at the last moment.

  Except that there were no commercials, and no breaks. When the printed message concluded, it immediately started over, without change. Also, normally the videos were acted out, not displayed like the pages of a book. Curious.

  The Bull emerged from the bathroom. He was clean and dressed, looking almost handsome. He did not sway as he walked, indicating that he was well on the way to being sober. It was a vast improvement.

  “Okay, now we can talk,” he said. “But first, how about another kiss? Or are you just playing me the way everyone else does?”

  He was definitely interested, and she liked that. But now, ironically, she was going to have to change the subject. “One kiss. Then you have to watch the TV.”

  “Who cares about the TV? It’s all junk.”

  She went to him and kissed him. He liked that even better sober than when he was tipsy. “There will be more as we work things out,” she said. “But first I need your judgment on this TV program. I’m new to the mainland and there are things I don’t properly understand. Do you think it’s a joke?” She took his hand and had him sit down beside her on the couch.

  He looked. “Yes, must be a joke. Hackers trying to make me think I’ve got to save the world. Make a fool of me yet again.”

  “I’m not sure of that. It doesn’t seem to be directed at you.”

  The phone rang. Lavender picked it up. “Yes?”

  “Are you that new girl with The Bull?”

  “Yes. Who are you and what do you want?”

  “This is Ian, your neighbor to the north.”

  The man was just out of mind reading range. “Hello, neighbor.”

  “Have you seen the TV?”

  “It’s got an end of the world program.”

  “That’s it. Think it’s a joke?”

  So he was concerned too. This seemed legitimate. “We were wondering. Want to talk with The Bull?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She handed the phone to The Bull. “Neighbor to the north named Ian. He’s watching the same program.”

  “I know him. He’s legit.” He lifted the phone. “Hi, Ian. You’re getting it too?” He paused, listening. Lavender could have picked up the other voice through The Bull’s mind, but didn’t bother; this was minor interaction, incidentally establishing her place in The Bull’s life.

  “And the other neighbors? Overriding their normal programs? I agree: this is weird.” He disconnected.

  Weird indeed. “Let’s walk around the block,” Lavender said.

  “Why?”

  “So I can read minds
as we pass other people. I need to get reasonably close, like within about talking distance. Then we’ll know how widespread this is.”

  He looked at her, his thoughts percolating. He didn’t quite believe in her permanence, and feared she would disappear without ever being more than an in-name-only girlfriend. Another tease.

  “It’s not like that,” she snapped. “What use is a girlfriend to you, if the world ends tomorrow?”

  He sighed. “We’ll walk around the block.”

  They walked. She reached out with her mind, catching the occupants of the houses they passed, at the fringe of her range. They were watching the broadcast with amazement, annoyance, and dawning fear. It was happening to everyone.

  They returned to the house. “So it’s not just a joke on me,” The Bull said.

  “Not,” she agreed. “But what is it?”

  “Smells to me like a brag. Someone who hates us just had to crow a little about his evil plot.”

  Then the message disappeared. It was replaced by a regular TV announcer. “Folks, we regret the interruption of our normal programming,” he said. “Hackers got into the system and had their illicit fun. Ignore the ‘Villainous’ message. It was simply an ugly practical joke. It appears to have been put on worldwide at the same time. It is rapidly being eradicated.”

  “That’s a relief,” The Bull said. “At least this time the joke’s on someone else.”

  “This time,” she agreed. Then she remembered something. “Oh—here’s your money.”

  “Money?”

  “The fee you earned for hauling that truck. A hundred dollars in cash.” She dug it out of her purse and handed it to him.

  “Oh, yeah.” He really hadn’t tuned in on the money.

  “Now about our relationship—” She broke off, reading his mind. “All right, we’ll talk this way.” She got up, moved over, and sat on his lap. “Girlfriend style.”

  “Yeah,” he said, pleased, putting his arms around her.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t break or freak out. You know I’m half lava, hot inside. I can cool down where it counts when I put my mind to it, but you don’t want to rush it. My form is mostly my conscious shaping, including the horns and tail. When I sleep, I may settle into a lump of hot rock. Can you handle that?”