Snow Job
Jerrod smoothed his hair back, curled errant black strands behind his ears and grinned at himself in the mirror. “Today is the day you make head salesman.” He tilted his head, raised an eyebrow and tugged down his tight-fitting, short-waisted jacket. He held on to the hem with one hand and waved the other.
“Allow me to show you the latest in the Hyunsford 300, madam. Turbo-charged, cerama-steel shell, the latest in safety and comfort.” Women always went for safety first he mused and cleared his throat. He should try for a deeper, more seductive tone.
He lifted the corner of his mouth and leaned slightly forward. “Polymer bonded, you know. The absolute latest in safety. Warming seats for your comfort, full auto-chef and bar, integrated entertainment system for the littlies, auto-drive, coded directional navigator and… a Starion drive for jaunts in the inner system.”
Kissing noises sounded from behind him and his face turned red. Jerrod closed his eyes. Mongo. Enemy number one, as far as he was concerned. The bastard had no shame when it came to selling cars; it was why he was also the number one salesman.
Jerrod pasted on a fake smile and turned from the mirror.
Mongo was movie star handsome, with blond hair and dark blue eyes, chiselled features and a physique he had to have bought. Too bad he couldn’t have purchased a better personality while he was at it.
“Mongo.” He greeted the man.
“Jerrod.” Mongo mocked then bumped him aside to check his own look in the mirror. “Gonna be a mother today. Have you checked the weather out yet? Maybe you should stay inside and practice. You need it, you know.” He grinned at himself, watched the dimples flash and white teeth gleam.
Jerrod thought he looked like a neo-shark. Why anyone bought from him was a mystery in itself.
Rather than reply to the barb, one of many he’d get during the day, Jerrod turned and went to the window. It was high summer on Mawson and fat, wet flakes of snow fell from a grey sky. Bitter cold frosted the thick glass. Still, it could be worse. It could be a full-blown ice blizzard.
Mongo came up behind him. “On second thought, you could practice out there. I could do with a nice hot cup of mocha.” He slapped Jerrod on the back. “Have at it, kid.”
Jerrod felt the burn of resentment. One day, he’d wipe that smirk off the evil bastard’s face, but for now, he’d go outside and check to make sure the vehicles’ shell warmers were all on and functioning.
***
Of the fifty cars in the lot, Jerrod had checked nearly a quarter when he heard the whine of an approaching vehicle.
He raised his head and looked around. There was very little street traffic, most people preferred to stay indoors than enjoy the light dusting of snow.
To the left, a long black car slowly came down the street, snow shovel deployed. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he knew cars, it was Drover 1000 SR turbojet. He admired the sleek lines of the all terrain vehicle as it cruised towards him. One day, when he was rich and shameless, he’d buy one of those beauties.
The car pulled to a stop in front of the yard. The turbo engine’s whine decreased as the driver shut off the engine. No one got out. The car just sat there. Jerrod continued to stare at the luxury vehicle until Mongo leaned out the door.
“Oi! Jerrod! Get back to work!”
Jerrod started and glanced back at Mongo. He was adjusting his jacket, smoothing back his hair as he came out.
He stopped for a moment by Jerrod’s side. “Watch a professional at work.” He sneered and approached the car. He reached out and opened the back door.
Legs. The long, smooth, sleek legs were the first thing Jerrod noticed and he swallowed against the sudden dryness of his throat. His eyes travelled upwards as the woman held out a long-fingered, elegant hand for Mongo to clasp and allowed Mongo to help her out. She was stunning with long sable hair, pale face, full, lush lips and a figure that deserved up close and personal attention. Mongo bowed over her hand, kissed the back, as was the style of welcome these days.
She gave him a dazzling smile and thanked him. Then she turned her attention to Jerrod.
“Your doorman is most gratuitous... um, gracious.” She said as she walked towards him. No. She didn’t walk, she… glided, as if she were floating.
Her comment brought him out of his fantasy and he tried hard to suppress a smile. The look on Mongo’s face was priceless.
“Indeed, madam, he has his uses.” He replied in a deep voice, knowing he’d pay for that remark later, and took the hand she held out to him. It was uncommonly cool and… rubbery? But he brushed his lips across her knuckles anyway.
He dropped her hand. “How may I assist you on this fine summer’s day?”
She tucked her hand into his elbow and he felt that odd squishiness again. “I’d like to look at some produce… product.” She murmured.
Jerrod felt his smile slip at her words. She didn’t have an accent, yet her words were… odd. “Of course. Was there anything in particular you were interested in?”
“Yes, I’d like to trace… trade in my car for something more…” She waved an elegant hand, but Jerrod had no idea what she wanted, the car she had was the best all terrain vehicle money could buy. She had no need to get rid of it.
“Something more… shyer! Yes, I want a shy car.”
A… shy car? What the hell was that?
Mongo took the opportunity to come up on her other side. “Perhaps I may be of assistance. Jerrod is one of our juniors here.” He said with arrogance and tucked his hand into her elbow, tried to guide her away. She held firm and turned to him.
“I have no need of you, thanks be. You are… unnecessary. An errata.”
Errata? Did she mean ‘extra’? Jerrod quickly accessed his implant as Mongo’s face went grim and his cheeks glowed red.
A mistake. An error in writing or printing, his implant told him and he grinned, barely kept the choked laugh back.
Mongo released the woman. “I’ll speak with you later, Jerrod.” He promised with a glare and left them to it.
“Now, about my car.” The woman said and guided Jerrod around the lot. “I need something to go. Something natural that will blind in with others. The one I have is too obsequious.” She spoke in a rush, her eyes constantly moving skywards.
Jerrod looked up, too, but could only see the snow, drifting and swirling as he tried to puzzle out what she was saying.
“You’re not from around here are you?” He asked and gave her arm a squeeze.
She seemed to deflate. “It is obsequious to you. I should have kenned.”
He tilted his head in thought and repeated her words in his head. Ah! Now he had it. “Yes, madam. I’m sorry to say, but the correct language would be: Something that will blend in with the others and the one you have is too obvious. But don’t worry, we here at Virgil Car Sales are used to out of town people, though I’m not sure what you meant by a ‘shyer’ car, but I think… you want something that won’t attract attention, yes?”
She turned to him, a plea in her deep blue eyes. Something else flickered there that was inhuman, as if he was looking at something hidden
“You are right,” she sighed, “I am not from around here. I come from a galaxy far, far away. I was trampling to… well, it batters not. My draft broke dawn and I had to insert human-speak quick. I don’t thank I got it all. If you help me, I can milk it worth your whine.” The faster she spoke, the worse her language skills became, but he understood her.
She turned to face him fully. “I had to build this skin-suit too.” She smoothed her hands over her breasts and down her stomach. “Did I get it rote?”
The words ‘skin-suit’ slipped by him as he allowed his eyes to follow her hands moving over the lush body. His heart skipped a beat, his throat went dry and a fizz erupted through his blood stream.
He had to clear his throat. Twice. “Oh, yes, madam, you got it absolutely rote.”
Funny, but he’d thought one of the military missions would get first contact. He didn’t feel scared or nervous or even surprised at meeting an alien and he didn’t care as long as she kept looking at him as if he were her saviour. But he was a car salesman, a junior one at that and he had no idea what to do.
No, wait. Yes, he did. He rubbed a hand over her false upper arm. “I think I have just the thing for you.” He guided her towards a cherry red vehicle. He cleared his throat and deepened his voice.
“Allow me to show you the latest in the Hyunsford 300, madam. Turbo-charged, cerama-steel shell, the latest in safety and comfort. Polymer bonded, you know. The absolute latest in safety. Warming seats for your comfort, full auto-chef and bar, integrated entertainment system for the littlies, auto-drive, coded directional navigator and… A Starion drive for jaunts in the inner system...”
Copyright© 2005 Jaye Patrick
“Allow me to show you the latest in the Hyunsford 300, madam. Turbo-charged, cerama-steel shell, the latest in safety and comfort.” Women always went for safety first he mused and cleared his throat. He should try for a deeper, more seductive tone.
He lifted the corner of his mouth and leaned slightly forward. “Polymer bonded, you know. The absolute latest in safety. Warming seats for your comfort, full auto-chef and bar, integrated entertainment system for the littlies, auto-drive, coded directional navigator and… a Starion drive for jaunts in the inner system.”
Kissing noises sounded from behind him and his face turned red. Jerrod closed his eyes. Mongo. Enemy number one, as far as he was concerned. The bastard had no shame when it came to selling cars; it was why he was also the number one salesman.
Jerrod pasted on a fake smile and turned from the mirror.
Mongo was movie star handsome, with blond hair and dark blue eyes, chiselled features and a physique he had to have bought. Too bad he couldn’t have purchased a better personality while he was at it.
“Mongo.” He greeted the man.
“Jerrod.” Mongo mocked then bumped him aside to check his own look in the mirror. “Gonna be a mother today. Have you checked the weather out yet? Maybe you should stay inside and practice. You need it, you know.” He grinned at himself, watched the dimples flash and white teeth gleam.
Jerrod thought he looked like a neo-shark. Why anyone bought from him was a mystery in itself.
Rather than reply to the barb, one of many he’d get during the day, Jerrod turned and went to the window. It was high summer on Mawson and fat, wet flakes of snow fell from a grey sky. Bitter cold frosted the thick glass. Still, it could be worse. It could be a full-blown ice blizzard.
Mongo came up behind him. “On second thought, you could practice out there. I could do with a nice hot cup of mocha.” He slapped Jerrod on the back. “Have at it, kid.”
Jerrod felt the burn of resentment. One day, he’d wipe that smirk off the evil bastard’s face, but for now, he’d go outside and check to make sure the vehicles’ shell warmers were all on and functioning.
***
Of the fifty cars in the lot, Jerrod had checked nearly a quarter when he heard the whine of an approaching vehicle.
He raised his head and looked around. There was very little street traffic, most people preferred to stay indoors than enjoy the light dusting of snow.
To the left, a long black car slowly came down the street, snow shovel deployed. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he knew cars, it was Drover 1000 SR turbojet. He admired the sleek lines of the all terrain vehicle as it cruised towards him. One day, when he was rich and shameless, he’d buy one of those beauties.
The car pulled to a stop in front of the yard. The turbo engine’s whine decreased as the driver shut off the engine. No one got out. The car just sat there. Jerrod continued to stare at the luxury vehicle until Mongo leaned out the door.
“Oi! Jerrod! Get back to work!”
Jerrod started and glanced back at Mongo. He was adjusting his jacket, smoothing back his hair as he came out.
He stopped for a moment by Jerrod’s side. “Watch a professional at work.” He sneered and approached the car. He reached out and opened the back door.
Legs. The long, smooth, sleek legs were the first thing Jerrod noticed and he swallowed against the sudden dryness of his throat. His eyes travelled upwards as the woman held out a long-fingered, elegant hand for Mongo to clasp and allowed Mongo to help her out. She was stunning with long sable hair, pale face, full, lush lips and a figure that deserved up close and personal attention. Mongo bowed over her hand, kissed the back, as was the style of welcome these days.
She gave him a dazzling smile and thanked him. Then she turned her attention to Jerrod.
“Your doorman is most gratuitous... um, gracious.” She said as she walked towards him. No. She didn’t walk, she… glided, as if she were floating.
Her comment brought him out of his fantasy and he tried hard to suppress a smile. The look on Mongo’s face was priceless.
“Indeed, madam, he has his uses.” He replied in a deep voice, knowing he’d pay for that remark later, and took the hand she held out to him. It was uncommonly cool and… rubbery? But he brushed his lips across her knuckles anyway.
He dropped her hand. “How may I assist you on this fine summer’s day?”
She tucked her hand into his elbow and he felt that odd squishiness again. “I’d like to look at some produce… product.” She murmured.
Jerrod felt his smile slip at her words. She didn’t have an accent, yet her words were… odd. “Of course. Was there anything in particular you were interested in?”
“Yes, I’d like to trace… trade in my car for something more…” She waved an elegant hand, but Jerrod had no idea what she wanted, the car she had was the best all terrain vehicle money could buy. She had no need to get rid of it.
“Something more… shyer! Yes, I want a shy car.”
A… shy car? What the hell was that?
Mongo took the opportunity to come up on her other side. “Perhaps I may be of assistance. Jerrod is one of our juniors here.” He said with arrogance and tucked his hand into her elbow, tried to guide her away. She held firm and turned to him.
“I have no need of you, thanks be. You are… unnecessary. An errata.”
Errata? Did she mean ‘extra’? Jerrod quickly accessed his implant as Mongo’s face went grim and his cheeks glowed red.
A mistake. An error in writing or printing, his implant told him and he grinned, barely kept the choked laugh back.
Mongo released the woman. “I’ll speak with you later, Jerrod.” He promised with a glare and left them to it.
“Now, about my car.” The woman said and guided Jerrod around the lot. “I need something to go. Something natural that will blind in with others. The one I have is too obsequious.” She spoke in a rush, her eyes constantly moving skywards.
Jerrod looked up, too, but could only see the snow, drifting and swirling as he tried to puzzle out what she was saying.
“You’re not from around here are you?” He asked and gave her arm a squeeze.
She seemed to deflate. “It is obsequious to you. I should have kenned.”
He tilted his head in thought and repeated her words in his head. Ah! Now he had it. “Yes, madam. I’m sorry to say, but the correct language would be: Something that will blend in with the others and the one you have is too obvious. But don’t worry, we here at Virgil Car Sales are used to out of town people, though I’m not sure what you meant by a ‘shyer’ car, but I think… you want something that won’t attract attention, yes?”
She turned to him, a plea in her deep blue eyes. Something else flickered there that was inhuman, as if he was looking at something hidden
“You are right,” she sighed, “I am not from around here. I come from a galaxy far, far away. I was trampling to… well, it batters not. My draft broke dawn and I had to insert human-speak quick. I don’t thank I got it all. If you help me, I can milk it worth your whine.” The faster she spoke, the worse her language skills became, but he understood her.
She turned to face him fully. “I had to build this skin-suit too.” She smoothed her hands over her breasts and down her stomach. “Did I get it rote?”
The words ‘skin-suit’ slipped by him as he allowed his eyes to follow her hands moving over the lush body. His heart skipped a beat, his throat went dry and a fizz erupted through his blood stream.
He had to clear his throat. Twice. “Oh, yes, madam, you got it absolutely rote.”
Funny, but he’d thought one of the military missions would get first contact. He didn’t feel scared or nervous or even surprised at meeting an alien and he didn’t care as long as she kept looking at him as if he were her saviour. But he was a car salesman, a junior one at that and he had no idea what to do.
No, wait. Yes, he did. He rubbed a hand over her false upper arm. “I think I have just the thing for you.” He guided her towards a cherry red vehicle. He cleared his throat and deepened his voice.
“Allow me to show you the latest in the Hyunsford 300, madam. Turbo-charged, cerama-steel shell, the latest in safety and comfort. Polymer bonded, you know. The absolute latest in safety. Warming seats for your comfort, full auto-chef and bar, integrated entertainment system for the littlies, auto-drive, coded directional navigator and… A Starion drive for jaunts in the inner system...”
Copyright© 2005 Jaye Patrick
Labels: Science Fiction
posted by Jaye at
11:48 am
|
0 comments
