CHAPTER 39 - SENSIBLE SHOES AND YOGURT

Mallory pulled long and hard on a cigarette as she stood on the stairs of the Reserve Bank Building.

Mallory took in the whole panorama along Aveneda del Museo and Beast Street. A gaggle of disappointed tourists were standing in front of the Museo which was still locked up tighter than Trixi’s bra strap. The tourists were dressed alike and were probably a woman’s club from a distant province. Across the Aveneda del Museo was the Navy’s Long White Hall. Needed paint Mallory thought. In the distance she could see the Clock Tower of the Blimp Cartel.

A pert secretary with glasses and sensible shoes stood a few feet away chatting on the me-Phone to her mother. Their eyes met briefly. She smiled and turned away. A group of junior high school children from Saint Golphus Academy and Repository were standing with their teacher and were headed to the Museum of Antiquities and Dusty Relics. In their little hands Malory could see pink crib sheets, yellow number 3 pencils, and blue lunch boxes. Two Striped Candy teen volunteers from the Hospital were sitting on a bench across the street waiting for an Omnibus.

The late afternoon snack crowd was streaming from the Long White Hall and spilling onto the street. Many were milling about and around three Hot Possum Dog Carts, and a few Strawbucks Coffee Wagons. For the first time Mallory noticed a colorful Orange and Purple Jumpy Juicy Cart as well. Jumpy Juicy was a new franchise in a city that needed new cart vendor like Second Life needed increased fees. The cart operator was wearing a Purple Vampire costume – the same as on the Jumpy Juicy Logo. Several Sisters of The Order were sipping on Pitihaya Juice with a jolt of something. Mallory hated The Order. Goodword.

Mallory looked to the sky, it was clear, but she knew that more snow and high winds were to follow this evening. She had read it in The Times so it had to be true.

The years of living with danger and death had taught Mallory many things. Deeply programmed cognitive algorithms were firing rapidly and began to tickle her cortex. The midbrain and the limbic system sensed something wrong. Very wrong. They called for a conference in Mallory’s head.

Mallory looked up and down the street. What’s wrong with this picture she asked herself? She dropped the dying cigarette onto the pristine Carapace Marble landing of the Reserve Bank building and stepped on it. Mallory ground the burning embers deep into the polished stone surface and closed her eyes. Need to get to shoe stadium soon she thought. With her eyes closed she reviewed the scene before her. She was standing on the landing of the building -- the snack crowd was out, tourists, school kids, a couple sisters, Jumpy Juice, the secretary on the phone…

The secretary standing next to her was not right. What was it Mallory wondered? The shoes she realized! The shoes were wrong and so were the glasses. The shoes were of the kind that only The Order purchased and in bulk. Cheap ugly sensible flats in shiny black and lined in thin red silk. Mallory opened her eyes, pulled out her pack of Galois, and found her matches. Mallory chuckled a bit. She had lifted the matches from Sydney Mobile’s. As she took a long drag she glanced briefly at the secretary again, and then looked off into the distance at the clock tower. Yes, she was from The Order. Her glasses cinched it in Mallory’s mind. Standard issue Sister’s glasses. Thin cheap wire frames, slightly tinted grey, and bearing tiny engraved letters which upon close inspection Mallory was certain would read – Property of the Order of the Bloody Stain of Saint Hymenos the Benighted - Mothers of Earth Druids (reformed).

Mallory looked up and down the street again. The place was filthy with Sisters. The tourists across the street were definitely of The Order and they were trying to look bored and disappointed but they were watching the street intently. One was on the me-Phone and talking in an animated way. Two Striped Candy Teen volunteers from the Hospital were of The Order was well. So was the Jumpy Juicy Vampire. They were everywhere as far as the Mallory could see and they were looking for something.

As Mallory stepped down the stairs the pert secretary began to follow. Even a rookie copper would not be so obvious thought Mallory. Unless The Order didn’t care if Mallory knew the truth. Mallory reached the sidewalk, turned, and walked past the Junior High School Kids. They were all packing realized Mallory and their beady little pre teen eyes followed her as she passed.

Goodword all over again realized Mallory. The Order was out in force, looking for something, something important. Not me, though Mallory, if they wanted me my account would already be cancelled.

Samuel Spud, Ambassador to the Capital from Clissa, was having a bad morning. Following the heist at the Museo, and due to the increasing tensions with Sonogno, the Great Leader and Glorious Leader had recalled their Ambassador. That meant that Samuel had to return to Clissa and to the cold, the rain, offal pie, the youtube black out, and skinny anemic state licensed escorts … the very thought sickened him. He had boarded the fast Blimp to Io. There was no blimp service to Clissa itself.

As the Blimp made its final approach to Icarus International Aerodrome he looked down and could see the disputed land of Mount Sodom. That’s rightfully ours thought Samuel, but Governor Linden insisted that it be left alone, untaxed, and unrepentant because of the many false religions who claimed the mountain. Opiate of the avatars thought Samuel. Not like our honor of the Glorious Leader and Great Leader. Samuel had made the trip often, and always with same dread of homecoming.

He craned his neck and carefully looked at Mount Sodom. The Mountain filled the oval window of the blimp. The snow topped peaks soared above the blimp. All the way to 7000 meters remembered Samuel, far higher than a blimp can fly. The Blimp shuddered a bit buffeted by the high winds that perpetually surrounded the mountain.

“That’s unusual,” muttered Samuel. The three dirt paths leading to the mountain were clogged with throngs of what looked like tiny white ants. There must be a thousand of them or more thought Samuel. Little tent cities were sprouting up around the tree line and near the mouth of the volcano. Must be some kind of music festival thought Samuel. Samuel tightened his harness and leaned back. When the Mountain is ours we will put those tourists to work for the greater good of the Glorious Leader and the Great Leader. What a waste of avatar potential Samuel thought. What a waste.

The blimp landed with a hard bump and a thud. As the grappling hooks purchased the soft soil of the dirt landing field, the blimp skewed sharply to the north as the always fickle winds changed direction.

A stewardess, clad in skimpy orange and white crocheted halter top with short shorts to match, fell into Samuel’s lap. She wore a black thong that accentuated what it claimed to hide. Samuel caught a flash of nipple. The stewardess laughed, then wiggled a bit as she caught Samuels eye and his other attentive senses. “So sorry,” she whispered. She lingered a while and Samuel got a chance to take in the whole instrument package. Then thrusting firmly with her hips she launched herself from Samuel’s lap back into the isle. Samuel started to rebound but quickly regained control of himself

She raced to the first class hatch and pulled down the hem of her short shorts in a fruitless attempt at modesty. “Bye,bye” she said as the first passenger passed though the hatch and into the winter bluster and cold. “Bye,Bye, Bye,Bye, Bye,Bye, Bye,Bye, Bye,Bye, Bye,Bye,” she said with great feigned sincerity, her eyes never leaving Samuel. Samuel delayed his departure and pretended to be looking for something in the overhead bin. The last passenger had left and the stewardess returned. “Can I help you with anything?” she asked in a breathy voice.

Samuel paused and thought a bit. “Why yes,” Samuel said, “I seem to have lost my peanut,” She laughed. The she stretched out a bit and bent over to look below the seat. Samuel took a thorough look as well but he was not looking for the peanut.

She rose, “Well, I think it’s gone. Probably a loose mouse or two.” She looked into Samuel’s eyes and he looked back into her mouth. Lovely puffy lips, no moustache, nice white teeth, he thought. “If you follow me into the Aerodrome I think I can find you another peanut,” she said smiling. He realized here eyes were scanning his body. Samuel reciprocated with a long and penetrating glance.

As they entered the customs hall she turned to Samuel and said “Dotty.”

I’m sure she is thought Samuel.

“Dotty Luciouvus, I’m from the Sim of Purgatory,” she whispered. “I’m off work for a shift or two,” she said. “This is my lay over.” She laughed heartily and brushed her hand against Samuel’s thin thigh.

She paused and frowned. Customs was backed up and they were checking everything, even diaper bags and water bottles. The flight crew line was the most backed up of all. A blimp captain was arguing loudly with a black clad customs agent with a baklava on his head over the contents of a large glass jar filled with some kind of white sauce.

“Yogurt!” the Blimp Captain was shouting, “It’s yogurt, from my auntie’s farm. It’s for my mother.”

“Open it,” said the customs agent.

“I tell you its only yogurt, plain, just yogurt,” the captain yelled even louder, as if it was going to help do anything, but delay the lovely flight attendant’s egress from customs.

Samuel laughed aloud. The stewardess looked very annoyed. Samuel reached for his passport and took Dotty under his arm. She seemed startled. He walked to the front of the line. The Customs agent looked annoyed. Samuel flashed his diplomatic passport and the customs looked at Dotty. “Diplomatic pouch” he said motioning to Dotty. The customs agent waved Samuel and his diplomatic pouch through. Several male agents looked at each other, winked, and gave the thumbs up sign. The sole female agent inspecting a colostomy bag sighed, because she knew how cold it was in Clissa.

As they walked away, arm in arm, Samuel heard the customs agent say, “Ok, eat it!”

“Dotty?” asked Samuel, “do you like low-cal gelato?”

“Oh yes,” cooed Dotty, “I love gelato.”

“I know this little place, just across the border. The best low-cal gelato in all of second life.”

Dotty smiled and her hand fell lightly upon Samuel’s bum.