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Chapter 8 by Myocastor_Coypus Myocastor_Coypus

Where to, Guv'nor?

Home

Enough time passed for snow to pile on my back as before, while I stared dumbly at the front door. It wouldn't open. My key showed no damage or deformity, it entered the lock without resistance, and turned with a nice clonk in the mechanism. Yet the door didn't budge even a centimetre.

"Hallo in there!" I called, banging on the door, rattling the knob, "What are you up to locking me out for?"

I stepped back and looked to the window on my right, that was the kitchen window. The roll-down shutter was two thirds closed, the lights inside were on, but I couldn't see enough to guess if anybody was around. Above, all the bedroom windows were fully covered, since in this season no one was often in the house during the proper daylight hours. Returning close to the door I gave it a final few thumps.

"Hullo Gilly! Mum! Let me in would - " the lock clonked and the door opened revealing the latest unlikely juxtaposition. All around was the face of our house white with snow clinging to the wall, the frames around the windows and the doorway carrying inches of the stuff, with their undersides covered in stalactites. My adoptive sister Gillian was there, totally naked. I stared, taking in the sight. Blonde waves cascaded down her bare shoulders, stopping just shy of covering her full, round breasts. Her perfectly formed waist and hips guided my gaze down to the spot between her thighs where a small tuft of gold crested her otherwise smooth mound. She (with a little help from the house itself leaking warm air) radiated hotness, melting a gaping hole in the otherwise freezing scene.

"You look fab - " I made eye contact with her, "What's wrong?" I saw now she was shifting on her feet from side to side, blushing hard, skin turning deep purple across her cheeks. Her mouth opened to speak but no words came out.

"Gilly?" I moved forward, reaching for her hand. She took a deep breath as if to answer me at last and immediately deflated. A voice like the howling wind through loose-fitting windows spoke in her place.

"Bring Frank Oliver inside," the being called from within the house. Gillian moved sideways, paling to her natural pink almost instantly. "We need him also," the voice added.

"Robomen," my sister managed to whisper as I passed through the doorway. She closed the door behind me and silence fell. A chill was in the air, even though the heaters could plainly be felt to be blasting at full power. I kept my coat and boots on, moving forward. On my left the living room opened to reveal the frightful shapes of two policemen both standing at the table with their backs to me. Between them could just be seen Mother, sitting on the opposite side.

"Hello," I said, quietly this time. The hulking mass of the roboman nearest me swung slowly round, the opening of his cowl revealing an ash grey face, its skin drawn tight to the bone, wafer thin lips frozen in a perpetual snarling grin. Its huge eyes were two luminous discs, shining a sickly green. Behind it, I glimpsed a better view of Mother. Upright in her chair as though her back fixed to an iron rod, rigidly staring ahead.

"Officer," I said, "What do you want?"

"We need to identify the precise location of a person you may know," the roboman said, "Charlotte Mathews. Do you have information?"

"Charlotte Mathews," I repeated, stalling for time. I looked away from the policeman's eyes, throwing a glance at Gillian. She moved closer.

"Our cousin, remember? Her father moved with to Lacus Solis after..."

"Vaguely," I said. "We've had no contact whatsoever for years, her dad hates us. Why do you want to know about her?"

"Charlotte Mathews is known to have contacted Evie Oliver today," the roboman said, "You do not know where your cousin is now?"

"No."

"Has she contacted you also today?"

I shook my head, "No. And again, why?"

It continued to ignore my return questions. "Are you willing to substantiate your statement by allowing us access to your communication device?"

"I wouldn't even show you a picture of my dog if I had one."

At this the other roboman turned, bringing to face me almost identical features to the other, even the same lip-less smile. In a tiny remnant of human expression, its brow was furrowed. Beyond them, Mother heaved as though she'd been holding her breath until now, I saw her slump into a more natural position. Her face was drawn in long lines of exhaustion.

"Charlotte Mathews is a moral deviant," the second roboman said, "Who believes in imposing harsh, inflexible restrictions on sexual activity between consenting human adults. She contacted Evie Oliver and harassed her on this subject, holding that any view other than hers was wrong. Evie Oliver was distressed. Charlotte Mathews will certainly victimize other individuals in this way unless checked."

It moved closer to me, the jade green stare was so intense I looked away, blinking. "Are you sure," it asked, "That you have had no contact at all with Charlotte Mathews today nor any other time in the past week?"

"This is a lot to process..." The world had been upside down as of this morning, but now everything was unraveling around me. Right in my own home, right in flesh and blood - and other stuff grafted on - was the half-living and brutal vindication of that little voice we hear when something appears too good to be true. The impulse to conform and hide my true feelings had been the right one, yet here we were nonetheless.

In the dead quiet now my eyes fixed at a point somewhere low down while I raced trying to come up with something to say. There was a small metallic shape in the centre of my vision. A handle, protruding from between the folds of the roboman's loose-fitting coat, at belt height. It was the handle of a small plasma discharge weapon. Just about within reach...

Where to, Guv'nor? [Test your luck]

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