Give the Hippo What He Wants

  Give the Hippo What He Wants

  by

  Robert T. Jeschonek

  *****

  Also by Robert T. Jeschonek

  Science Fiction

  6 Scifi Stories

  My Cannibal Lover

  One Awake In All The World

  Playing Doctor

  Serial Killer vs. E-Merica

  Teacher of the Century

  The Greatest Serial Killer in the Universe

  The Love Quest of Smidgen the Snack Cake

  Universal Language – a novel

  The Trek Trilogy

  Trek Fail!

  Trek Off!

  Trek This!

  *****

  Give the Hippo What He Wants

  The pink hippopotamus appeared in front of Thal Simoleon just as he was about to take the swing that could have won the World Series for the Bio Threats.

  As soon as the ball left the pitcher’s hand, Thal knew he could launch it out of the park. It came in straight and steady, a little low and outside but well within his range...proof that even a genetically engineered pitcher like Phallus Fearbringer could blow a throw under pressure.

  Before the hippo appeared, Thal knew he was about to become the hero of the Series. The Bio Threats were down by two in the bottom of the ninth with two outs...but the bases were loaded and the pitch was a home run waiting to happen. One stroke of the bat would bring in the grand slam, assuring a Bio Threats win and a World Series title.

  At least, that was what would have happened if the hippo hadn’t popped up out of nowhere, wearing a grass skirt and hopping around on two legs between him and the ball.

  Singing opera.

  When the creature appeared, Thal’s view of the pitch was blocked, his concentration obliterated. He took a swing anyway, aiming at the vicinity of where he expected the ball to be; to his credit, he came close...but his swing was well before the ball’s arrival. The tip of the bat lashed into the corner of the strike zone and forward and up, passing harmlessly through the air and then the hippo.

  A heartbeat later, the ball sailed through and smacked into the catcher’s mitt.

  The hippo kept right on singing and pirouetting in front of him, long black lashes fluttering over baby blue eyes.

  The crowd roared with rage. It was Thal’s third strike.

  The game was over.

  As the Dirty Nukes threw their hats in the air and embraced in the infield, Thal hurled his bat through the hippo, not caring who might be on the other side of the insubstantial phantasm. The surprise visitor had robbed him of a great accomplishment; if he could have strangled it to death on the spot, he would have.

  But he knew that he couldn’t. Though its appearance had been unexpected, he knew all about the hippo.

  Concluding its serenade on a high note that only Thal could hear, the creature spread its stumpy pink arms wide and took a deep bow. As the superstadium erupted in pandemonium around them, the creature bounced over to Thal, batting its ridiculous lashes and grinning. Bright red lipstick was smeared all around its rubbery mouth.

  “Hello there, Zeke,” said the hippo, nostrils twitching atop its bulbous snout. “Fancy meeting you here!”

  Thal seethed and said nothing. He knew that no one else could see the creature, and he didn’t want to be caught on camera apparently talking to himself.

  The hippo pushed closer, its great bulk shimmying from side to side. “Can I give you some advice, pal?” said the creature.

  Thal continued to stare silently ahead.

  “If I were you, I’d get out of here right now,” said the hippo. “The fans are coming! The fans are coming!”

  Looking back, Thal saw that the hippo was right. People were cascading out of the stands onto the field, screaming like Vikings. All the other players on Thal’s team had already disappeared into the locker room or were running full tilt toward the exits.

  He had no doubt that if he stood there another moment, they would kill him. He was a top-paid sports star in a world that revolved around sports...a god in the faith that ruled their lives...and still he knew that they would kill him on the spot for costing them the victory they craved.

  He had seen it happen before.

  “Go go go!” shouted the hippo, and Thal took off.

  He ran as fast as he could toward the locker room door, his genetically engineered legs easily carrying him ahead of the screaming mob. His pursuers pelted him with coins and shoes and bottled water, but his body was tough enough to take a lot more punishment than that.

  As he raced toward the door, he wished that he could leave the hippo behind as easily as the crowd...but he knew that he couldn’t. The creature was literally in his mind, a custom-made hallucination that could follow him anywhere once it had locked on to him.

  He knew it well, because he was the one who had set it loose three years ago.

  *****

  As Coach Wildsnap paced across the office, hands locked behind his back, Thal had a hard time keeping his eyes from wandering to the hippo pacing along behind him.

  “End of the road, Thal,” Wildsnap said grimly, shaking his doughy head. “I guess you already knew that, though.”

  Thal couldn’t stop looking at the hippo, so he cast his eyes down at the floor. “You’re trading me?” he said, though he knew that wasn’t what the coach had meant.

  “No trade,” said Wildsnap. “Welcome to civilian life.”

  “And yer out!” barked the hippo. “Strike twelve! Hit the showers!”

  Thal glanced up. The hippo was waving both of its stumpy arms at him and sticking its purple tongue out from its enormous, lipsticked mouth.

  “But it was just one mistake,” said Thal. “After all I’ve done for this team over the years, don’t I deserve another chance?”

  “After all I’ve done, don’t you mean?” said the hippo.

  “You know better than that,” said Wildsnap, pushing up the brim of his ballcap. “You’re done in this league. If you ever set foot on the field again, the crowd’ll eat you alive...literally. As we speak, they’re burning all your memorabilia in Citydome Center. They’ve already toppled your statue in the Hall of Gods.”

  “Holy shit,” said Thal.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” said Wildsnap, removing a framed photo of Thal from the wall. “I feel for you, buddy. I mean, your life isn’t worth a plug nickel from now on. But what the hell were you doing out there tonight? Were you hyperstoned or something?”

  “Tell him, Thal!” shouted the hippo. “Clear your good name!”

  Thal sighed. If he told the coach he’d been victimized by a Choker, he could erase the doubt of his playing skill...but he would open up a can of worms that he couldn’t afford to open. The fact was, he’d somehow been imprinted by a Choker he himself had activated years ago; Chokers were so illegal, if this one was traced back to him, he would face consequences far worse than ejection from the league.

  “I don’t know what happened,” said Thal. “It was just one of those things.”

  Wildsnap stomped over and tore the player number from Thal’s red and green jersey. “With the DNA you’ve got, it’s never ‘just one of those things.’ Not that it makes any difference now. You’re done, my friend.”

  “Time to stick a fork in you, Thally!” said the hippo, doing a soft-shoe across the office.

  “What about the farm team?” said Thal. “Send me away till things cool down.”

  Wildsnap leaned down, pushing his face close to Thal’s. “Earth to Thal,” he said. “You lost the World Series. Things are never going to cool down for you.”

  “This is bullshit,” said Thal, jumping up out of the chair and shoving his way past Wilds
nap. “Total bullshit! I’m the top player in the league! I have the best career stats in history! I hold the single season and career home run record! You can’t just cut me loose!”

  “Listen, Thal,” said Wildsnap, taking a seat behind the desk. “This is the twenty-second century. You know how it is. Never been a better time to be an athlete...unless you make the kind of colossal fuck-up you just made. Your career stats went up in smoke the second you missed that pitch.”

  Thal thumped his fist against the wall. “You owe me!” he said. “I made the Bio Threats the top team in the world! I made Bio Threats Citydome billions of dollars!”

  With a wave, Wildsnap brought the holographic computer interface to life over the desktop in front of him. “You’re right,” he said as he brought up the team’s roster and erased Thal’s name from it. “I do owe you. That’s why I’m going to save your life, my friend.”

  Thal stormed over and kicked the front of the desk, putting a hole in it. “Save my life?” he said. “How about saving my career!”

  “Lost cause,” said Wildsnap. “Now do you want your life or not?”

  The hippo was standing behind Thal, whispering in his ear. “Choose life, Thally!” he said. “I’m not done with you yet!”

  “Screw you,” said Thal. “I’m the wealthiest athlete in the country. I can take care of myself.”

  Wildsnap wiggled his fingers over the holocomputer’s control field. A financial statement appeared in front of Thal, packed with columns of numbers.

  “Here’s a list of all your assets, Thal,” said Wildsnap. “Bio Threats Citydome has confiscated everything and frozen all your accounts.”

  Thal scanned the statement. A chill flowed through him as he realized it looked like Wildsnap was right. “Wait,” said Thal. “They can’t do that, can they?”

  “You should’ve read the fine print on your contract,” said Wildsnap.

  “Why didn’t my agent catch this?”

  Wildsnap snorted. “It’s a no-brainer, Thal,” he said. “Your agent gets a percentage of what Citydome confiscates. You can’t expect her to go down the toilet with your career, can you?”

  “That’s all right,” said Thal, brushing away the holographic statement with a sweep of his hand. “I’ve got a little something stashed away for a rainy day.”

  “They got that, too,” said Wildsnap. “Every offshore account and wad of fifties stuffed in your mattress. And your family’s in protective custody lockdown, so you’ll get no help there, either.”

  Thal glared at Wildsnap, wanting more than anything to snap his neck at that moment. Instead, he spun around, picked up the leather chair, and smashed it to pieces against the wall.

  “That’s it, Thally!” hollered the hippo, doing a step-kick, step-kick as if he were a chorus line dancer. “Let it all out, buddy! Show ‘im those anger management classes really paid off!”

  “Face it,” said Wildsnap. “You’ve got nothing left. Everybody in Citydome wants you dead. I’m your only chance at survival. Now do you want a ticket or not?”

  “A ticket?” said Thal.

  “For the underground railroad,” said Wildsnap. “Your only way out. Leave right now, and you might make it.”

  Thal felt as dazed as if he’d just taken a beanball to the head. “What, just leave?” he said. “Can’t I at least go pack some things?”

  Wildsnap brought up an image of a burning luxury apartment on the holocomputer screen. “There’s your penthouse,” he said. “Any more questions?”

  At that moment, the lights dimmed, and a siren began to whoop. Eyes wide, Thal gaped out the office door into the locker room; he thought he heard a steady, distant pounding under the siren.

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  “I believe the villagers would like a word with you,” the hippo said in his ear. “And your head on a pike.”

  Wildsnap checked readouts on the holographic display and popped up out of his chair. “They’re storming the compound,” he said. “You’re out of time. You want to ride the railroad or go try to talk some sense into them?”

  The pounding got louder. Thal’s stomach twisted like taffy, and his palms started to sweat. He looked from Wildsnap to the locker room doors and back again.

  If there was another way out of this predicament, he couldn’t see it at the moment.

  “Get me out of here,” he said. “What do I have to do?”

  “Attaboy, Thally!” shouted the hippo Choker. “Run, baby, run!”

  Wildsnap smacked his palm down on the desktop. A circular hatch in the wall, invisible until then, irised open. “Follow me,” he said, stepping over the threshold into the darkness beyond. “And make it snappy.”

  Without hesitation, Thal leaped into the opening. He didn’t hear the hippo following him, but he knew without a doubt that he was there.

  *****

  Hungry, freezing, and up to his knees in sewage, Thal slumped against the tunnel wall as his guide went ahead to meet the guard at the next checkpoint.

  He wasn’t sure how long they’d been on the run through the sewers, but it seemed like days. It seemed like it had been a lot longer--months or years--since he had stood on the turf of Bio Threats field and seen the pitcher wind up for the throw that had changed his life forever.

  Sometimes, as he trudged through the muck behind the dark-cloaked man who served as his guide, Thal had wondered if what he was experiencing was really happening. It didn’t seem possible that he, a world-famous sports superstar, idol of billions, full-fledged god in the Church of Champions, could have been reduced to fleeing through the excrement of the very people who had once worshipped and adored him. It didn’t seem possible that his goals had been diminished from winning a third consecutive World Series to reaching the opposing team’s citydome before his own former fans managed to tear him to pieces.

  Unfortunately, the stench and the cold and the wet always left him no doubt that what he was living was harsh reality.

  The pink hippo kept reminding him, too.

  “Bet you’re tired, huh?” said the Choker, floating on his back on the rancid current. “Could use a nice juicy steak, too, couldn’t you?”

  Thal wiped his face on the hem of his jersey. Over the past few days (hours? weeks?) he had started to appreciate just how crazy a Choker could make someone. It was one thing to see the effect it had on another person, but another thing entirely to endure its abuse himself.

  It was always with him, but he was the only one who could see or hear it. It wasn’t real, but it looked and sounded as if it were undeniably solid and alive. He couldn’t touch it or silence it, and it would never leave him alone.

  Increasingly, he was coming to understand what his victims had gone through...the other players he’d sicced the Choker on to clinch wins and eliminate competition.

  “My heart bleeds for ya, buddy,” said the hippo, pretending to wipe to wipe away a tear. “But hey, look on the bright side. At least ya got me! I’ll never leave ya, pal!”

  Three years ago, when Thal had placed his order with the Choker techie, he had thought it would be funny to program the mental gremlin in the form of a ridiculous pink hippo. Now that the thing was haunting him personally, he found himself wishing that he had picked any template but a pink hippo.

  The sound of splashing echoed down the tunnel then, and Thal turned to see his guide slogging through the sewage toward him. The cloaked man stopped midway and waved his torch, summoning Thal to follow him.

  When the two of them sloshed around a bend in the tunnel, Thal saw light emanating from an opening some yards away. The guide went through first, reaching for rungs outside the opening and climbing down.

  Peering out, Thal saw that the tunnel gave way to a huge, circular chamber. All around the chamber, falls of sewage poured down from pipes and tunnels opening out of the walls at all levels.

  The falls dumped into a wide trench that ringed the space and fed out through a gap along the base of the walls. A river
of waste rushed out of the gap, roaring as it crashed down the channel to points unknown.

  Looking down, Thal saw a cluster of men gathered at the base of the ladder that the guide was descending. They stood on a stone shelf many feet below, torches flickering as they gazed up at him.

  Reaching out, Thal grabbed one of the rungs set into the wall. He swung a foot onto a lower rung and climbed down, taking care because the cold metal rungs were slippery with moisture.

  The pink hippo floated down alongside him, apparently held aloft by a tiny red parasol. “Easy does it,” said the hippo. “Wouldn’t want you to fall and break your neck.”

  For the first time, Thal talked back to the creature. “Shove it up your ass,” he said...and as soon as the words left his mouth, he wondered if he was finally starting to lose it, talking to something that wasn’t there like that.

  *****

  “These men have all traveled the railroad like you,” the guide told Thal when he’d reached the shelf. “They will take you to your next stop.”

  Thal looked around at the three dirty faces surrounding him. One of the men, a tall, bony guy with curly red hair and a beard to his chest, looked familiar.

  “Are you going, too?” Thal said to the guide. Though he’d never gotten a clear look at his face under the hood of the cloak, and the two of them had hardly said a word to each other the whole trip, Thal felt comfortable following the guide and wanted him to go the rest of the way.

  “Good luck,” said the guide, and then he scaled the rungs in the wall and disappeared back into the tunnel.

  “So,” said the red-haired man. “We’d better get moving. We’ve got a long way to travel tonight.”

  Thal stared at him searchingly, becoming more convinced that he had seen him before. “Do I know you?” he said, trying to imagine what the man would look like without his long beard.