Callie’s Last Dance

Geek City is the area that houses Lou’s Geek Squad, the world’s foremost group of computer experts and researchers. It took years for Lou to assemble and train this team, and he’s the only person they’ve ever worked for at Sensory. These geeks are so valuable they’re the sole reason I allowed Lou to live after he attempted to kill me.

Why didn’t I just kill Lou and run the team myself?

They’re loyalty is to Lou. Had I killed him, they’d have turned on me. But because I spared Lou’s life, I’m hoping we can find a common ground. I can’t do this job without the geeks.

I’ve never met them. For years I’ve pestered Lou about his geeks, but all I’ve managed to glean in all that time is they are five in number, they haven’t left the confines of Geek City for more than ten years, and they’re eunuchs.

That’s right, eunuchs.

I press the button on my desk that unlocks my office door. Cooper enters.

“Ready, sir?”

“Have a seat, Tommy,” I say.

He looks around. “Where, sir?”

There are no chairs in my office. I don’t meet people here. Callie has seen my office, as has Miranda, my favorite hooker, but both were walk-throughs. I did happen to catch Lou Kelly fucking Sherry Cherry on my desk not long ago, but Lou assured me that was a one-time deal. Had Tommy not looked around for a chair just now, I’d wonder if he’d been in here before.

I stand, grab my laptop, and we start walking.

“Has anyone spoken to the geeks since Lou died?”

“Not to my knowledge, sir.”

“What about the people who bring them food?”

“Their supplies are placed on a conveyor. No one sees the geeks.”

“Have you thought of starving them out?”

“No sir.”

“Seems to me you could stop putting food on the conveyor, force them to come out.”

“Apparently they’ve squirreled away enough canned goods and bottled water to survive for many months. But that’s not the issue, sir,” Tommy says.

“What’s the issue?”

“Until you got the job today, no one was authorized to talk to the geeks, nor did anyone have any interest in doing so.”

“Do you know their names?”

“No, sir.”

“Aren’t you curious about them?”

“Not at all.”

He stops us a moment and says, “May I be frank, sir?”

“Please do.”

“I’m not one to spread rumors. But from what I’ve heard, the less contact I have with them the better.”

“What’s the rumor, son?”

“I’ve heard Geek City’s a leper colony.”

I laugh.

He frowns. “They’re not lepers?”

“I can’t say for sure. But wouldn’t lepers have trouble typing on keyboards?”

“I don’t know.”

“They’re not lepers, son. They’re choirboys.”

“Choirboys, sir?”

“That’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“Yes, sir.”

13.

TOMMY ESCORTS ME to the outer chamber of Geek City, which means the beeper has sounded within their compound. By now they’re staring at us through their monitors.

But nothing happens.

“Hi, guys,” I say. “I’m Donovan Creed.”

No answer.

Then I realize what’s going on.

“Tommy,” I say, “Please leave me here.”

“It could be dangerous.”

“Look at me, son.”

He does.

“I’m Donovan Creed.”

“Yes sir.”

He pauses, then says, “Please program my number in your phone, sir, just to be safe.”

He gives me his number and leaves.

Moments later the door clicks open.

14.

THE FIRST THING you’ll notice upon entering the lobby of Geek City is the noise.

It’s deafening.

Like a thousand live bands playing at the same time. All styles. Some of the songs sound like they’re being played backwards. Others, sideways.

Each song is being played at ear-piercing decibels. When they come together, it’s complete chaos. Agony for the ears. I make a mental note to explore the use of this taped music as a crowd-control weapon.

The lobby is small, with a redwood picnic-style table and two benches on one side, a couch and coffee table on the other. I take a seat at the picnic table for two reasons. One, I may have to jump to my feet quickly, to defend myself, and two, I don’t know these people. The couch could be a germ pit.

I’m alone in the lobby, but I know they’re watching. While I see no cameras, I feel them studying me.

“Can someone please turn down the music?” I shout.

The music mutes.

A moment later a door opens, and three people enter the lobby in lock-step. They include a midget, a dwarf, and what appears to be an elf.

“I’m Curly,” the first one says. “I’ve always preferred Kathleen to your other lady friends, but hey, what do I know? I’m a eunuch, right? It’s your love life to screw up, and my job to chronicle your screw ups. Still, I never understood your fascination with Rachel. You know she plans to kill you, right?”

“I’m Larry,” the second one says. “I’m a fan of Callie. I think you’ve got a window of opportunity there, but it won’t be easy getting her away from Gwen.”

“You must be Moe,” I say to the third.

The three put their hands over their hearts and look down, solemnly.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

“Moe hung himself when Lou died,” the third one says. “You can call me C.H.”

“What does that stand for?”