TEXT: CyberGeneration’s June Short Fiction Contest 2nd Place!
  Character Assassination
  by Bri Carneski
   
   
  “...so there wonʼt be any problem with our...transaction?” Wilhelm asked, leaning for-
  ward to mufﬂe his words and allow the buzz of the other restaurant patrons to cover his conversation.
   
  “No problem at all,” answered Wilhelmʼs opposite number, a go-between known simply by the 
  pseudonym of Igor,  “In exchange for the agreed upon sum, you and your associates will be...custodi-
  ans...of the free remnant of Rocky Mountain National Park.  All the water rights, all the mineral rights, 
  not to mention the timber. Everything.”
   
  Wilhelm barely concealed his grin, and thought, Iʼm sure to get the promotion to vice-president.
   
  “Then it is an agreement,” Wilhelm said, smiling deeply, “Petrochem and its subsidiaries are 
  glad to do business with you Mr. Igor, and your...client..”
   
  Igor shrugged, his eyes continuously scanning the environs for any possible trouble, before 
  adding, “Just make sure the sum is in my account ﬁrst thing in the morning, or else the deal is off.  
  Then, we will pass along the paperwork.  Donʼt make me think this was a waste of my clientʼs time. 
  You wouldnʼt like to see what happens to those who waste my time.”
   
  Wilhelm laughed, though even he admitted it sounded a bit hollow in his ear, “You wound me, 
  Mr. Igor.  We are civilized businessmen here, and we certainly wouldnʼt renege on our promises.”
   
  Wilhelm thought wistfully, At least not now.  Appearances are everything.  If anything, weʼve 
  had to become more subtle.  I guess itʼs better.  I certainly lived longer than I thought, but I miss the 
  old days.  Then your heart would race, your blood would pump.  You actually knew you were alive.  
  When everyone was literally gunning for your seat.
   
  “Yes, civilized,” Igor chuckled, “In fact, I would say this has been a most enjoyable evening 
  except for one thing.  Where is our meal?”
   
  Wilhelm nodded in agreement, “I was just thinking that myself.”
   
  While the two men continued to talk, the door of the restaurant opened to reveal a man in the 
  uniform of Global Express, pushing a dolly that ahead of him.  He looked through the crowd, drawing 
  dismayed glances from the other patrons.  Before any employee could stop him, his eyes ﬁxed on 
  Wilhelm, and the man slowly mad his way to Igor and Wilhelmʼs table.  
   
  “Special delivery for Wilhelm Knapp.  Are either of you gentlemen Wilhelm Knapp?” asked the 
  deliveryman.
   
  Disgruntled, Wilhelm said, “I am.  Why are you intruding on my dinner?”
   
  The deliveryman took Wilhelmʼs anger in stride, and said, “Please sign here sir.  Special deliv-
  ery.”
   
  Wilhelm looked at the label and saw it was addressed to him, care of Petrochem.  With great 
  irritation, he scrawled his name, and then looked at one of the massive boxes brought in.
   
  “So what is it?” he growled speculatively, and pressed his hand on the side of one of the 
  boxes.  Suddenly, a bright, conical light emanated from the top of the box, showcasing a three-di-
  mensional pair of chartreuse panties.  A voice ﬁlled the restaurant, “Thank you for your purchase of 
  Sens-U-All Edible Underwear - Salmon Flavored.  With your purchase of 1000 pairs, you have earned 
  yourself one-hundred free pairs of your choice.  Next time, you may wish to try some of our other ex-
  citing new ﬂavors like Kiwi Surprise.”
   
  The voice continued to drone on for a few more minutes, and laughter ﬁlled the restaurant 
  while Wilhelm burrowed deeper into his seat, his face ﬂushed with embarrassment and anger.
   
  Igor, a hint of a smile playing about his lips, tapped the boxes and said, “I didnʼt know you were 
  
  into such things.”
   
  Wilhelm growled, “I am not.  I didnʼt order any of this.  Iʼve been set up.”  
   
  Wilhelmʼs eyes searched the restaurant looking for the deliveryman, but in his bout of anger 
  and embarrassment, the man wisely led.  
   
  If I ﬁnd out who did this, they are going to die for it, Wilhelm promised himself, I wonder if it 
  was Norris in accounting.  Heʼs always had it in for me.  Well, two can play this game.  Appearances 
  be damned, I know how to make it look like an accident.
   
  Wilhelm shook his head, putting aside thoughts of vengeance, and motioned for a passing 
  waiter to come near.  As the individual drew near, Wilhelm snarled, , “Where is our food?”
  --------------------
   
  “Itʼs on its way you bastard,” grumbled a young man from within the depths of the kitchen, 
  ﬂicking his long hair out of his eyes, revealing a momentary silvery sheen to his ears before the loose 
  strands fell back into place.
   
  One beneﬁt of being a Jammer, he mused slightly, silence means nothing with us around.  
  Now, letʼs see, what did friend Wilhelm order.  Thatʼs right, the steak.  Igor got the ﬁsh.
   
  He pulled at the hem of his shirt, wishing that he didnʼt have to wear this silly monkey-suit.  At 
  the same time, he palmed a vial hidden within his sleeve.  Carefully, he twisted the lid off, and gently 
  sprinkled the contents on  Wilhelmʼs meal.
   
  Sabine better be right, thought the youth, This better work.
  --------------------
   
  Wilhelm hungrily wolfed down his steak.  Though the spices were a little off, it wasnʼt too bad.  
  He belched gently as he glanced at Igor, and noticed the man had barely touched his lobster.
   
  “Go on and eat.  The meal is on Petrochem after all,” Wilhelm jovially said, and patted his 
  stomach with his right hand...which is when he a deep rumble ﬁlled the room.
   
  “Iʼm quite full,” Igor replied quietly, then pushed his plate towards Wilhelm, “But you my friend, 
  you still sound hungry.  But it would be a bit inconspicuous to meet in a restaurant and not eat, 
  wouldnʼt you say?  Go ahead and order something else if you wish.”
   
  Wilhelm tried to answer, but he suddenly found his mouth closing of its own free will while deep 
  in the pit of his stomach it felt like someone set ﬁre to it.
   
  “Is everything alright, friend Wilhelm?” questioned Igor.
   
  “I...I...I donʼt...” responded Wilhelm, when he suddenly heaved forward, his stomach feeling like 
  it was on ﬁre, and his body needed to expel all contents.  A piece of steak hit Igor in the middle of his 
  face.
   
  Igor rose, and his ﬁst hit the table heavily, “Wilhelm, control yourself.”
   
  “I...I canʼt...” uttered Wilhelm before his words were drowned with another bout of vomit.
   
  Igor slammed his ﬁst on the table, calling out, “Someone, get a medic here.  Now.” 
   
  Wilhelm, however, didnʼt hear the rest for darkness mercifully took him, bringing an end to his 
  intense abdominal pain.
  --------------------
   
  Wilhelmʼs ﬂuttered open, and he saw a woman in a surgical mask leaning over him.  
   
  “Am...am I alright?  Where am I?” croaked Wilhelm.
  Character Assassination
  Bri Carnesky   2
  
   
  The woman removed her mask, and said, “You are quite ﬁne, Mr. Knapp.  You are in Trauma 
  Team Spinner Charlie-64-Bravo.  You just had an intense allergic reaction to your meal.  In fact, you 
  are more than able to go home, if you wish.”
   
  Wilhelm, his throat feeling like someone had punched it all day, tilted his head, “I...would like 
  that.”
   
  The doctor turned around, and said, “Then we shall be there shortly.  You may wish to take it 
  easy for a day or two, though, Mr. Knapp.  And donʼt have any solids for at least a day.  This is more 
  for your throat, than anything else.  Itʼs just been through a great deal.”
   
  Wilhelm nodded, though he knew that come the morning he would be busy ﬁnalizing his busi-
  ness deal with Igor and the group of bureaucrats he represented. 
   
  The doctor continued, “And the restaurant has agreed to cover all your medical costs.  They 
  are very sorry for what happened.”
   
  Wilhelm closed his eyes, and snorted, Sorry?  They practically poison me, but theyʼre sorry?  
  Letʼs see how they like being sued into oblivion.
   
  “Itʼs quite alright,” Wilhelm replied, giving lie to his innermost thoughts, “I just want to get 
  home.”
   
  “Just a few more minutes, Mr. Knapp.” the doctor said.
  --------------------
   
  Wilhelm stumbled out of the spinner none to gently and blinked at his surroundings.  The dis-
  mal, decrepit buildings penetrated his awareness.  Angrily, he turned on his heels, and shouted, “Hey, 
  this isnʼt where I live...”
   
  However, the spinner was already aloft once more.  Wilhelm suddenly felt very alone as he 
  took in the surroundings, not helping but notice the group of young man standing on a street corner, 
  their own gazes resting uneasily on him.
   
  Slowly, Wilhelm took note of the sun, and started to walk away, trying not to draw attention to 
  himself.  He managed to make it for a half a block, when a small ﬁgure darted out of an alley, and 
  hugged him tight around the waist.
   
  “Daddy!” shrieked the small ﬁgure, and upon further examination, Wilhelm saw it was a young 
  child of about seven or eight.
   
  “Daddy,” continued the child, “You came back just as you said you would.”
   
  “Get the hell away from me you ﬁlthy urchin,” Wilhelm yelled, pushing with both arms against 
  the kid.  
   
  The childʼs grip broke, and fell to the concrete.  The small kid started to wail, “Donʼt leave me 
  again daddy.  If...if...me and mommy missed you.  Please donʼt hit me...”
   
  A large, muscular hand fell on Wilhelmʼs shoulder, and he was spun around face-to-face to 
  stare into the angry face of one of the youths Wilhelm passed just moments before.
   
  “Here now, what is the meaning of this?” the youth said, his voice sharp as an ax, “You arenʼt 
  going to hit the little one are you?”  Flanking both sides were another four men, dressed much the 
  same way. 
   
  “I...” Wilhelm started to say when the small child piped up, “No sir, he wonʼt.  Not as long as I 
  let him...play with me.”
   
  The kidʼs head dropped, and pulled his arms tight, “Though the last time Daddy touched me, it 
  hurt.”
   
  The youthʼs eyes widened, and he lunged toward Wilhelm, grabbing the corporate by the neck, 
  and bellowed, “You bastard...”  
  Character Assassination
  Bri Carneski    3
  
  Character Assassination
  Bri Carneski   4
   
  Wilhelm futilely tried to curl into a protective fetal ball, at ﬁrst trying to explain that he never 
  even saw the kid before, but the pummeling continued so long that all thought of proving his inno-
  cence fell to the wayside.   The blows continued to rain down, until Wilhelm lost track of all pain.  The 
  only thing he was aware of was the ringing in his ears.  Then, the hits all stopped, while the ringing 
  changed to a dull whoop in his awareness.
   
  “Buddy, are you alright?” said a soft voice in his ear.
   
  Wilhelm warily opened an eye, and caught the looming shape of a man in police uniform stand-
  ing protectively over him.
   
  “No,” Wilhelm gasped, wincing with every syllable he spoke, “They...just attacked me for no 
  reason.”
   
  “Well, you are safe now,” the police ofﬁcer said.  
   
  The ofﬁcer acted as if to speak further, but was cut off by the raucous barking of a dog.  
   
  “Hey, whatʼs wrong with Jerry Lee?” the cop shouted over the din. 
   
  Wilhelm opened his other eye, and twisted his head, a wave of agony ﬁlling his body as he 
  saw another ofﬁcer, this one trying with all his might to restrain a dog on a leash.  His glance focused 
  on the barking dog and shivered as he realized the dog was ﬁxated on his position.
   
  “You know why he gets this way, Robert” the cop retaining the dog shouted, “If he smells even 
  the faintest hint of a drug he goes nuts.  10 to 1 gets you that he is hiding something.”
   
  Wilhelm mumbled, his concentration on the dog alone, “I didnʼt do anything.”
   
  The formerly friendly cop roughly forced Wilhelm to his feet, and pressed him against a wall.
   
  “Thatʼs what they all say buddy,” snarled the cop who began to pat Wilhelm down roughly.  Wil-
  helm moaned with the quick, if brutal search, and was pleased when the ofﬁcer ﬁnally stopped after 
  having patted his buttocks.
   
  “Now, do you believe me?” Wilhelm muttered in a jumble.
   
  “Oh sure, I believed you until I found this vial.  Looks like we have a man with a taste for the 
  hard stuff.” Robert said.
   
  Wilhelm turned around, slumping against the wall and saw Robert holding up a clear vial ﬁlled 
  with green crystals.  
   
  “That...isnʼt mine,” paled Wilhelm.
   
  “Thatʼs what they all say,” growled the cop.  Robert lashed out with his feet, knocking Wilhelm 
  to the ground.  With a savage kick in the ribs, Wilhelm rolled onto his stomach, when he felt his arms 
  pinned behind his back.
   
  “Please...stop...” Wilhelm breathed heavily, grunting as he felt a tightness descend on his 
  wrists.  
   
  “We will...eventually,” stated Robert, “But not until the boys downtown get through with you.  I 
  hope you arenʼt holding anything else out on us...”
   
  The dog handler laughed, “As it is, when we are done with you, youʼll have a good idea what a 
  puppet feels like.”
   
  Wilhelm cried incoherently as he was hoisted to his feet once more, “Why is this happening to 
  me?”
  --------------------
   
   
  Within a small, dilapidated room, the voice of the evening news anchor ﬁlled the small room,  
  “...in other news, Senior Manager of Acquisitions Wilhelm Knapp was arrested today on charges of 
  drug possession.  Due to his resisting arrest, and the new changes in the drug laws, he can look 
  forward to anywhere from ﬁve to ten years in prison.  Ofﬁcials at Petrochem expressed surprise at 
  
  Character Assassination
  Bri Carneski    5
  their employeeʼs secondary habits.  They further state they donʼt condone such behavior, though, and 
  hope that Mr. Knappʼs incarceration will give him the time to reﬂect on his actions.  Finally, letʼs go to 
  Jennifer for the weather...”
   
  Cries of youthful laughter rose up in the room, and there was the slapping of hands.  Eventu-
  ally it died down, and someone stated, “That worked better than I thought.  For the moment anyways.  
  That will stall Petrochemʼs plans for a little while, buying a little time.  And the synthi-skin gloves.  
  Good idea.  We donʼt want to leave any prints behind, now do we?  And hacking into the spinners da-
  tabase on addresses.  Genius.  You know, this has me thinking.  If it worked once, we might be able 
  to do it again.  Of course, we have to be careful, but I was thinking we could target...”
   
  The discussion continued long into the night...
  
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