The Pulptress by Pro Se Press

removed something thin and rectangular. Then the
Uniform blocked Emily's view.
    A moment later the guard's
radio crackled next to her. “Sam Five, that's Captain McTeal of
Northwest Patrol. His daughter's competing.”
    Sam Five blew out his
breath before replying. “Understood, Sam Three. Thanks.” Then he
turned to Emily with a big grin. “Miss, you just dropped a dime on
the fellow who runs the toughest police precinct in the whole
region. But don't feel bad. That's exactly what he would have
wanted you to do. Thanks. Now go enjoy yourself.”
    Emily smiled a bit. She had
analyzed the situation correctly. She'd done the right thing for
the situation. And, if she actually lived in this region, she would
have recognized Capt. McTeal herself. Now, windbreaker tucked under
her arm, she let herself drift towards the area with signs and
other information about upcoming events at the Poplar Park
Convention center.
    The display cases on the
wall looked to have the same posters and flyers on each side of the
divided entryway. But just before the entrances of the two venues
the ropes split into a large triangle that filled the space between
the doors with their metal detector stations. And a man seemed to
be floating out of a hole in the wall about five feet above the
floor. The hole was a simulation of a hatch, but the man wore a
genuine NASA spacesuit. Surrounding the suited astronaut were
posters promoting a coming exhibit by the “L-5 Space Colonization
Society.”
    Emily's eyes fell on a
handmade poster with a picture of the Space Shuttle. “If the
Discovery launches during our exhibit,” she read, “we'll watch it
live on a fifty foot screen!”
    “ Wow!” exclaimed Emily
softly.
    “ Wow, indeed,” chuckled a
man's voice from the other leg of the triangle. “That'd be the next
best thing to being on the ground near the Cape.”
    Quickly Emily took stock
before she answered. Medium sized. Medium build. Shaggy brown hair.
Thirty something, maybe. A bit of a twinkle in his hazel eyes.
Wearing a medium dark blue suit. And too far away to potentially
grab her.
    “ You've been at the Kennedy
Center for a Shuttle launch?”
    “ Several,” he replied. Then
the twinkle disappeared and his voice caught as he added,
“Including the Challenger's last...”
    “ Sorry,” replied Emily. “The
first one I can remember is long after that.”
    “ That's alright. Keeping up
with spaceflight is about the only thing I can call a hobby. But on
a more cheerful note, that was a nice move you put on McTeel,
little lady. I about busted out laughing.”
    “ You know Capt.
McTeel?”
    “ Let's just say we're
acquainted. Good man. And his daughter, she goes by Daisy, is a
rising star in local gymnastics. Matter of fact, she's pretty close
to your size and build. Well, I've got to find a man about a
fishhook. Good luck, little lady.” And he turned and was
gone.
    As the man disappeared
Emily's eyes opened a bit wider. For as he turned she briefly saw
part of the inside of his suit jacket. The fabric was a much darker
blue. Almost black. And it came clear down to the bottom of the
tail. There was no hint of a lining. Emily wondered if the garment
could be reversible.
    A few moments later Emily
and her group entered the area formally hosting the Poplar Park
Regional Gymnastics Competition. Her team's small assigned area,
according to the official diagram, sat against the mobile wall
dividing the Competition from the Rod & Gun Show. Just one
problem. The west side of the mobile wall stopped moving twenty
feet from the east wall. The Center staff finished hanging a
fifteen foot tall sheet of transparent plastic across the gap as
the Gibsonville group moved into one section of the area. Emily
settled her gear and began her stretches to work out the kinks of
the long drive. She stood facing the plastic looking into the Rod
& Gun Show. And there, a few dealers’ tables away stood the
space buff, as she thought of him, in earnest