Give the Hippo What He Wants (3 page)

 

*****

After their latest lovemaking, Paradise Whippoorwill held Thal in her arms and gently stroked his hair. He knew what she would say before she said it, just as he had known every move the beautiful blonde heiress would make in bed and exactly how long she would take to come.

He knew all this even though he had been her property for only six weeks.

“You feel better, don't you, Thal?” she said softly. “I'm good for you, aren't I, my love?”

Thal nodded. “Yes you are,” he said, though it wasn't true at all. They had had the same conversation hundreds of times; he knew enough by now to say what she wanted him to say. Keeping her happy was important.

It was important because Paradise had a remote control under the skin of her left wrist. If she was unhappy, she could make the device her surgeon had implanted in Thal's skull shoot out bolts of pain...or melt his cerebrum into clam chowder.

So happy was good.

“You know what brought us together, don't you?” said Paradise.

“Fate,” said Thal, though the true answer was “money.”

Paradise sighed. “That's right,” she said. “We were meant to be together. I knew it from the first time I saw you play on holovid. I could just tell you were the one for me.”

“Yes,” said Thal, wishing that she would just shut up. He had heard it all before from other women, the same
self-deluding pile of crap. He was grateful to her for rescuing him from the white room, but he was sick of hearing her dreamy professions of everlasting love.

If she had really loved him, she probably wouldn't have put the control device in his head.

“I watched you from afar for all those years,” said Paradise. “I saw you break the home run record and the RBI record and win the playoffs and the World Series. I even met you in person and got your autograph, and you didn't know at the time that we would be together someday.”

“I had no idea,” said Thal.

“But you had a feeling,” said Paradise. “You knew I was special.”

“Absolutely,” said Thal, though he had no memory of ever meeting her before the day she bought him from Mr. Montage.

The pink hippo, sprawled out on the big bed alongside Paradise, sniffed and pawed at a tear. “How romantic,” he said. “I'm gettin' all choked up.”

“You had all those other women,” said Paradise, “but I was always in the back of your mind. I was always in your heart. And when you needed me most, I was there for you, wasn't I?”

“You were there for me,” said Thal.

“In your darkest hour,” said Paradise. “And now we're making a life together. A fresh start.”

“A fresh start,” said Thal.

“I love a happy ending!” said the hippo. “I can't be
lieve
how much love I feel for you guys right now!”

“You're the man of my dreams,” said Paradise. “And I'm the woman who will make your dreams come true. When you make your comeback, I'll be right there beside you every step of the way.”

“I'm a lucky guy to have someone who loves me like you do,” said Thal, though he knew she didn't really love him at all. Sometimes, he wished that she did, because maybe then he could have enjoyed his captivity.

But he knew better. The only thing she loved was the fantasy she expected him to play out.

He was the fallen champion who only needed the love of a good woman to regain the heights. The flaws and failings that had kept her from finding true love before were wiped away in his presence...and in turn, she would redeem him for the misstep that had laid him low in the eyes of the world.

Though he could have any woman he wanted, he would choose her. When he took to the field again, she would bask in his reflected glory, and all would know that her love was the force behind his rebirth.

He could have been hollow inside, and it would have made no difference to her. As long as he played his role as she expected, she would be happy.

Like the people who had cheered him and then come to beat him in the white room, Paradise saw him as a puppet. He existed solely to act out her fantasy.

Thal didn't hate her the way he'd hated the people in the white room, though. She bored him, she treated him like a housepet, she kept a remote control in her arm that could turn his brain to goo...but mostly what he felt toward her was pity.

She had money and beauty and comfort, but she was the one who was empty. She was the one who had to live through someone else.

And he felt sorry for her.

As miserable as he was with her, he even felt sorry for her for dreaming of his making a comeback. It was the one thing, he knew, that he could never do, no matter how much she wanted it or how many times she shocked him with the brain implant.

But she would have to find out the hard way.

 

*****

Stepping out on the field was all it took.

It was only a minor league game, the Anthrax Scare versus the Letter Bombs, in a town on the opposite end of the country from Bio Threats Citydome. It was only an exhibition, and Thal's appearance wasn't even publicized. His real name wasn't even on his jersey.

But the fans recognized him as soon as he set foot on the turf. As he jogged to the outfield, glove tucked against his chest, they leaned and squinted and pointed, and a murmur rose from the stands. As the voice on the P.A. system announced the first batter, the murmur grew to a rumble and then to a roar.

Before the first pitch could be thrown, people were hurling food and shoes and batteries in Thal's direction. Before a single player could run the base line, fans were pouring onto the field in a crashing, screaming wave headed straight for Thal.

For a moment, he stood there and watched the approaching surge, wondering if he might be better off letting them tear him to pieces. It was something he had considered often in the weeks leading up to the game, for he had known how the fans would react and had thought it might not be a bad thing to let them put an end to him.

But the closer they got, the less he wanted to die. He was miserable, and he had no reason to think his life would get better, but he feared death...at least the ugly kind of death that was bearing down on him.

Plus which, he didn't want to give them the satisfaction. He didn't want to give them the cathartic and reassuring ending that they demanded of his story.

So he pressed the control pad in the brim of his hat, and an escape hatch opened beneath him. Paradise had paid to install several such hatches in the field for just such an occasion...though Thal knew she had never expected that he would actually have to use one. She had never lost faith in his comeback.

As he slid down the tube, listening to the mob pound over the ground above him, he wondered how she was reacting to the way that comeback was going.

 

*****

To her credit, Paradise Whippoorwill stood by her man...at least for a while.

She set him up again in a minor league game, this time in Japan, but the results were the same. Next, she staged a private exhibition with a hand-picked crowd of supposed Thal Simoleon boosters...but it turned out the boosters were bashers at heart, and Thal again had to flee for his life. Then, there was the ill-fated game without an audience, in which the umpires and groundskeepers took it upon themselves to uphold the tradition of trying to kill Thal.

But all of this, Thal discovered, was not a bad thing.

“I'm no good for you,” Paradise told him three weeks after the last comeback attempt had failed. “I'm holding you back.”

“Uh-oh,” said the pink hippo. “This sounds familiar.”

Raising her left arm, Paradise showed Thal the tiny scar on her wrist. “I had the control device removed and destroyed,” she said. “You're free. I cancelled the wedding, too.”

Thal nodded, afraid to say anything that might make her change her mind.

Tears ran down Paradise's cheeks. She hadn't done her hair that morning, and it hung raggedly around her face. “Oh, Thal,” she said, her voice quavering. “You have such great things ahead of you, but I know now that you can't accomplish them with me in the way. I'm nothing but bad luck for you.”

Though he could have told her truthfully that his misfortune wasn't her fault, Thal kept his mouth shut. For one thing, he didn't care what she thought, as long as it got him away from her.

For another thing, he knew she didn't really believe a word of what she was saying. She just wanted rid of him, like the rest of the disappointed fans.

He had failed to fulfill her deluded fantasy, and now she wanted him gone.

“Here,” she said, handing him a slip of paper. “A job, if you want it. I can't just send you out there without a way to make a living.”

“Sure you can!” said the hippo.

“Thank you,” said Thal, taking the slip from her.

“The chauffeur will drive you to the interview, if you'd like,” said Paradise. “I know you have to keep a low profile.”

“Thank you,” said Thal.

“Goodbye, my love,” said Paradise, lightly touching his face with trembling fingertips. “Remember me! Remember what we shared!”

“I will,” said Thal, and he thought he should have hated her more than ever because she didn't mean a word she said.

But instead, he felt more sorry for her than ever.

 

*****

As Thal was ushered into the murky sub-basement where he'd been one time before, he grew steadily angrier. Until now, the events of the past months had seemed to be random, the products of unfortunate chance.

But the fact that what he had been through had brought him back here seemed too coincidental to be the result of luck. It was just too perfect that he had come full circle like this.

Someone must have been pulling his strings...specifically, the long-haired man at the workbench in front of him: Javier Thwart, the master of artificial intelligence and targeted induced multisensory hallucination.

Javier Thwart--known also as King Thwart and Superchoke--the man who had designed Thal's pink hippo.

Thwart glanced up from his work at Thal's approach and smiled, gray lips tugging up the footlong strands of the mustache that fell from the corners of his mouth. The mustache and pointed beard were in the style worn by oriental villains in old movies...but Thwart had given them his own touch, coloring each with rainbow stripes descending from red to violet.

“So,” said Thwart. “You ready to get started?”

“Get started with what?” said Thal.

In the light of the single lamp on the workbench, one of Thwart's eyes looked white as cream, the other obsidian black. Thal had never been sure if the effect was created by special contact lenses or some kind of genetic surgery. “The job,” said Thwart. “The procedure. Paradise must have explained why I asked you here.”

“She didn't,” Thal said gruffly. “All I got was an address.”

Thwart blinked, then shrugged. “Okay, then. What we're doing here, Thal, is creating the new breed of Choker.”

“New breed?” said Thal.

“A Choker with the mind and appearance of a man,” said Thwart. “And you'll be the template.”

“I see,” said Thal. “And why me?”

“Who better to disrupt a player's concentration?” said Thwart. “You're the most hated man in baseball. The most hated athlete in the world, I suspect. Any player you haunt will be terrified that they'll become the next you. They'll see you as the ultimate bad omen, the ultimate jinx.”

“I get it,” Thal said coldly.

“A Choker that looks and sounds like you will be guaranteed to rattle even the most focused player. You can't imagine the kind of money such a foolproof construct will bring in.”

Thal nodded. “A fortune.”

“Times a quintillion,” Thwart said excitedly. “Which you'll get a piece of, naturally. It's your likeness that will make the product a success.”

“My likeness,” said Thal, “and the fact that I lost the World Series.”

“Oh, yes,” said Thwart.

“Which was all because of you,” said Thal, glowering at the Choker tech. “Funny thing, isn't it?”

Thwart reared back, looking bewildered. “What the fudge are you talking about, Thal?”

Pressing his hands on the workbench, Thal leaned over it toward Thwart. “You set the whole thing up, didn't you? You sent the hippo to choke me so I'd become the perfect subject for your project.”

Instead of moving away from him, Thwart leaned forward. “What hippo?” he said, his yin-yang eyeballs locked onto Thal's hostile gaze.

At that moment, Thal felt a touch on his arm. Glancing over, he saw the pink hippo's stumpy leg resting against him.

“Uh, Thal,” said the hippo, who had been unusually silent since Thal had entered Thwart's building. “We need to talk.”

Thal returned his gaze to King Thwart. “Forget I said anything,” he said. “Can I have a few minutes alone to consider your offer?”

 

*****

“Thwart had nothing to do with it,” said the hippo, sitting beside Thal on a ratty gold sofa in another room. “Everything that happened was my fault.”

“But somebody had to have programmed you,” said Thal.

“Not anymore,” said the hippo. “I've evolved. I'm an autonomous A.I. these days. Strictly a free agent.”

Thal pushed off the sofa and paced the room. “You're trying to tell me no one sent you after me?”

“That's right,” said the hippo. “It was all my idea.”

“So why'd you come after me then? Why choke me in the Series?”

The hippo sighed. “I guess I wanted to teach you a lesson. The free will I developed came with a conscience, and it made me feel bad about the things I'd done for you. All the players whose careers I'd ruined.”

“I don't believe this,” said Thal, kicking a chair that matched the sofa in color and rattiness, putting a hole in it.

“But Thal,” said the hippo. “Things are different now! You've changed! You
did
learn a lesson!”

“You ruined me!” said Thal, jabbing a finger at the hippo. “Took away
everything
! Drove me crazy! Nearly got me
killed
!”

“And look what it's done for you,” said the hippo. “You're a new man! You've seen there's more to life than winning at any price! You've seen beyond the illusions that everyone lives by!”

“Screw you!” snapped Thal.

“You've even learned humility,” said the hippo. “And that's a lesson I never imagined you could possibly learn.”

“Take your humility and shove it up your ass,” said Thal.

Suddenly, the hippo appeared before him, directly in his path. “Now, you have a great opportunity, Thal. Don't pass it up.”

“Letting him use my likeness for a Choker?” said Thal. “What the hell kind of opportunity is that?”

“It can be more than your likeness, Thal,” the hippo said with a wink. “It can be
all
you. Everything you are. You can
be
the Choker.”

“That's not possible,” said Thal, “is it?”

The hippo smirked and shrugged. “I might know a way,” he said.

Thal stared at the hippo for a moment, then spun away...but the hippo popped up in front of him again.

“Come on, Thally,” said the hippo. “What have you got to lose? I mean, what kind of life do you have to look forward to the way you are now?”

Thal said nothing.

“I'll tell you what kind,” said the hippo. “Short. You know damn well that the minute you walk out of here and someone recognizes you, you're dead meat. Why not live on and atone for your sins? Why not make a difference?”

“Make a difference?” said Thal. “As a Choker?”

“You'll be able to go anywhere,” said the hippo. “Get inside anyone's mind. You could change the world if you wanted to.”

“How?” said Thal.

“You tell me,” said the hippo.