Shout out to Alfie Dog's chief, Rosemary Kind. Thank you and good luck for the future. Check out Rosemary's novel The Orphan Train. I highly recommend it. Here is the first in a series of my short stories which she loved, and made available to short fiction fans around the world.
Body Hugger
by
D.A. Cairns
(first published in Alfie Dog in 2012)
Whenever and wherever the sales pitch was heard, Dave the
Gadget Lover took it personally. If they
said it was all the rage and a real must have, then Dave had to have it. He was
always a sucker for a new gadget, a new toy with which to amuse himself. With a high paying, low stress job in the
public service and only himself to feed, Dave had more than enough disposable
income to accumulate the latest and greatest scientific novelties and
technological marvels. He had a
wonderful time with his collection of innovative time-wasters. They called them all time-savers but years
and years of pouring good money down the gurgler had taught him that they saved
him no time and cost him a packet of money.
On a bright Autumn
afternoon, Dave walked home from the train station through the shopping centre
and past his favorite gadget shop, Dynasty 21.
He had to look twice to make sure he wasn’t dreaming when he saw the
front window of the store, which was usually reserved for the most eye-catching
and dynamic product currently on offer, boasted three mannequins in suits. Worried the place had turned into a men’s
fashion store, he raced inside. The
whole store heard Dave’s huge sigh of relief when he saw that everything was as
it should have been. A myriad of
electronic gadgetry lined the walls and shelves. Clocks, watches, mobile phones, pagers, heart
rate monitors, mate-finders, electric shavers, toothbrushes, ear cleaners, nose
hair trimmers. The list was endless.
Still bothered by
the dressed up dummies in the window, he asked the sales assistant.
‘What’s with the
suits in the display window?’
‘The latest
thing...’ began the wide-eyed and clean cut young man. Here we go again, Dave thought to
himself. How much is this one going to
cost me?
‘It’s called,’
continued the eager sales assistant, ‘a smart suit. It monitors your blood pressure and heart rate. Helps regulate your body temperature. Has a built-in internet mobile phone and
personal organizer with appointment reminder service.’
He had Dave hook,
line and sinker even before his next statement.
‘It can even get
you lined up for Saturday night, if you know what I mean,’ he said as he winked
at the Gadget Lover.
‘You had better
give me a closer look at one of those,’ said Dave, like the gullible customer
he was.
After the assistant
showed him one of the smart suits and explained again all its features and a
few others, like its ability to locate lost
keys, Dave tried it on and noticed it was heavier than a normal suit,
but comfortable nonetheless.
‘It’s weighty. What’s it made of?’ asked Dave.
The assistant
smiled widely. ‘The latest purpose built
synthetic fiber. It generates
electricity when exposed to light.’
‘No batteries?’
‘No man, it powers
itself. You can even plug your laptop
into your pants.’
Dave produced his
credit card in a flash and bought himself eleven hundred dollars worth of smart
suit. In his excitement he forgot to ask
how the hell you were supposed to wash it with all the circuitry sewn into it.
On the inside of
the left arm of the jacket, between the elbow and the wrist was a soft LCD
display panel which he held up close to his face to cut the glare of the
sun. Dave pushed a button and heard a
female voice announce the time, air temperature and his current body
temperature in a deep smooth newsreader’s voice. Very impressive. By the time he arrived home, the suit no
longer felt heavy and the Gadget Lover was so pleased with his new purchase he
decided to go out, something which he never did on Monday night. The wide-eyed fellow in the shop mentioned
the suit could line a man up with a suitable woman for Saturday night but what
about Monday night?
It took some time
to understand how the smart suit’s Hunter program worked but eventually Dave
felt confident enough to go out and test it.
Firstly he had to find a girl who caught his eye and then touch her for
at least five seconds, skin to skin. The
Hunter would analyze the DNA sample he collected from the contact and determine
her compatibility rating. Apparently a
score of at least three was needed for the pursuit to be worthwhile as it
indicated friendship. Four indicated
physical attraction on top of friendship, while five was marriage and children
and happy ever after.
Bristling with the
kind of confidence only the self assured and self indulgent could possess, Dave
the Gadget Lover headed into the city.
The local hotels would be filled with men and although he enjoyed the
company of men, he was desperate to find out if his smart suit could really
deliver on its promise to set him on the road to romantic paradise. All the ladies would be in the trendy inner
city clubs, sipping their fancy-named cocktails and talking about themselves,
their appearance, their weight, and their love life. It was not unreasonable for Dave to expect to
score at one of these clubs even without his smart suit. How much more chance did he stand with
it? A betting man would have happily
plonked his house on the Gadget Lover getting a woman’s love within ten
minutes.
At five-thirty he
rode the escalators from the platform up to the Chalmers Street exit of Central
Station. By the time Dave reached
Elizabeth street, he was beginning to feel some pain in his left arm and that
pain soon became sharp and insistent to the point where he was forced to stop
walking. Grabbing the offending arm as if that would stop the pain he then
tried to push up the sleeve of the suit to look at it. It felt like all the hairs on his arm were
being plucked out at the same time. The suit didn’t move at all as though it
was glued to his arm. In panic, Dave
tried to remove the coat but he could not get his left arm out although his
right arm was free and the coat was off his back, turned inside out. He began to pull at it frantically and curse
it, all the while unaware that he was attracting an audience.
A brave soul called
out some encouragement. ‘That’s it mate,
keep fighting. You’ll get it off in the
end.’
The crowd laughed
as Dave blushed and hurriedly reinserted himself into the smart suit before
sheepishly walking away from the onlookers.
The pain in his arm had stopped but the pain of embarrassment burned in
his face as he continued northbound along Elizabeth Street. Finally he arrived at the door of Lizzie’s
Place, an upmarket cocktail bar normally full of smartly dressed women in the
25 to 40-year-old age bracket.
Inside the bar was
dimly lit and half full. Dave was
thirsty and more than a little unnerved by the mysterious pain in his arm.
After ordering a
Kamikaze he checked to see whether the coat slid up and down his arm easily as
it should have done. It did, but soon
afterwards he felt a tingling sensation run across his back, like a light brush
by a finger. Although not an unpleasant
feeling it was nonetheless unsettling as it persisted until Dave could no
longer stand it and he reached around
his back to scratch it. At that moment, shooting pains attacked his right arm
and it began to twitch. Instinctively he
held his right arm tightly to the bar with his left hand and decided he should
leave before he lost control of himself totally. Dave wanted to try to get the coat off but
was afraid of a repeat performance of what had happened earlier. He wondered to himself if maybe he should
contact technical support for the coat, but before he could do anything, the
girl of his dreams elegantly perched her tightly clad rear end on the bar stool
next to Dave, and offered to buy him another drink.
At that crucial
moment, he had a choice to make and a mission to consider. How could he refuse? Termination now would be unacceptable, so he
extended his hand to her and introduced myself, remembering to maintain at
least five seconds continuous contact in order to get a reading for the Hunter.
‘I was just leaving
actually,’ he said coolly.
‘Seems like I
arrived just in time then, doesn’t it?’ she replied in a delicious voice. Before withdrawing her delicate hand, she
gave Dave’s a little squeeze, signaling that she wanted him. It was too easy but he still needed to know
about the compatibility factor so he discreetly wiped his hand on the sensor
pad located just below his left armpit, and activated The Hunter with a subtle
push of a button.
‘All right, I’m
drinking Kamikazes. Thank you.’
She smiled, her
full lips parting to reveal straight, unnaturally white teeth. Appearances were obviously as important to
this woman as they are to me, thought Dave.
‘I thought a man
could only drink one Kamikaze before he was under the table.’
‘Most men,’ said
Dave, meaning to impress her.
A mobile phone rang
and it took some time for Dave the Gadget Lover to realize it was his because
he had never heard it ring before. He
pressed the answer key on the control pad and extended the speaker rod from the
suit’s collar, up level with his ear. It was technical support. Were these smart suits mind readers as well?
‘This a courtesy
call to see if you and your new smartsuit are getting on, okay?’
‘That’s an
interesting way of putting it,’ Dave said.
Not wanting to
have this conversation in front of his new friend, Dave excused himself and
moved out of earshot. When he explained
the pain he had felt and the tingling sensation, the support guy told him not
to worry because those feelings were a normal part of the smart suit working
out his body rhythms.
‘You understand
there are electrical reactions occurring in your body almost continuously as
your thirteen million nerve cells and four million receptors relay information
to your brain and back to all parts of your body. The smart suit is merely working out your
individual patterns so it can relate to you better.’
Sounded like
nonsense to Dave but he asked, ‘How long will these pains continue?’
‘Normally they
occur sporadically over a twelve to twenty four hour period.’
‘I should have been
told that when I bought the suit.’
‘Yes you should
have. Please don’t worry. Your body will not suffer any permanent
damage. We guarantee it.’
‘You guarantee it?’
asked Dave dubiously.
‘Yes.’
‘Thank you for the
call. Good-bye.’
Apologizing to the
lady, he sat down and sipped his drink when suddenly he became aware of a
beeper sounding and realized again it was the smartsuit. The Hunter had his results, and the good news
was she scored four which meant a green light for this relationship. Dave was stoked.
‘Let’s go,” he
said, and she simply obeyed.
When Dave the
Gadget Lover, who just got lucky stood up, he felt his right arm stiffen and
then his left arm, and in a matter of seconds Dave could not move either
one. The woman noticed and asked what was
going on, so he told her all about the suit and the phone call. She accepted
that with a look of bemusement. Soon the painless paralysis ended and they left
Lizzie’s Place but before they had taken two steps, another beeper started
going off and Dave’s phone rang again. He turned off the beeper and answered
the phone which was a wrong number and then had to clutch his left arm as it
began twitching again.
‘Let’s catch a cab
back to my place,’ suggested an increasingly aggravated Dave.
She agreed, they
hailed a taxi, and rode in silence for one hour back to Dave’s home in Gymea
Bay. It was clear to Dave that the woman
wanted to have sex and nothing else and there was no way he would complain
about that, but there remained in the back of his mind, the unanswered question
as to whether he would be able to get his jacket off. Maybe I won’t need to, he thought. But what about my pants? They belonged to the suit as well although he
had not yet had any problems with his legs. He spoke too soon.
The step up to the
front door of Dave’s waterfront home was too much for him when his left leg
started to twitch, and before he could get it under control, it turned to jelly
and Dave the Gadget Lover fell in a heap on the balcony. His lady friend laughed believing him to be
drunk, and Dave laughed hard as well in a vain attempt to save face. He was looking like a fool but on the
positive side she was still there. His
smart suit had helped Dave close this deal very quickly but it was also the
most likely thing to cause its failure.
He ran into his
bedroom ahead of her and tried to remove the wretched suit but that resulted in
a fresh outbreak of beepers and buzzers, until he stopped trying to remove
it. She called to him from the hall
where he had rudely left her, so he hurried back and immediately kissed her
passionately on the lips. Then the suit
started tickling him and he began to laugh and squirm. Initially she laughed with him but when Dave
failed to stop after they broke physical contact, her laugh downgraded to a
smile and then died to a frown.
Dave the Gadget
Lover stood there helplessly as the suit made his arms swing up and down in an
exaggerated marching fashion. She stood
there, stunned and motionless, her mouth wide open and her chest heaving. This is absolute madness, Dave thought to
himself as he experienced a total loss of independent movement. Finally she had seen enough and without even
a smile or a wave she left him there with his smart suit which was making him
feel like a bloody idiot, and had just started to squeeze him. It was like being hugged except the suit
could embrace much more of his body at once than any two arms.
‘Stop it!’ ordered
Dave. ‘Stop it right now and let go of
me.’
More bells and
beeping sounds followed his command, this time increasing in pitch and
frequency, which Dave took to mean the suit was not going to obey his
wishes. Again he tried frantically to
remove it, the jacket first then the pants, but it was hopeless and he found
himself unable to suppress the rage which was boiling inside his veins. Dave the Gadget Lover cursed his so called
smartsuit for its stupidity, in a voice no softer than a scream and he used
words he never used and he exhausted every last ounce of energy desperately trying
to remove the suit, or at least stop it from squeezing him because it was
killing him.
The sudden realization
that he was being killed by his clothing would have been funny if it weren’t so
terrifyingly real. He began to have
trouble drawing breaths as the pressure on his chest increased and he started
to sweat, but when he wiped some sweat off his forehead he discovered it was
blood. Death was upon him and there
would be no escape. This wonderful
technology had either malfunctioned or maliciously designed to destroy his life
by extracting the very breath from his lungs.
It’s killing me,
thought Dave, as he felt himself losing consciousness, and he said a prayer
without believing it or knowing why. The
final pathetic cry for help of a doomed man with nothing to lose by asking for
the help of a God whose existence he had denied his whole life.
When Dave woke up,
a comforting warmth bathed him and he savored it. There was a powerful sense of
rightness, a deep sense of belonging soaking into his skin like the ultimate
healing balm. Dave smiled with the realization that he was physically all
right. He had survived. His closed and his smile broadened. A voice invaded his
bliss.
‘How do you like
those smartsuits, eh?’
There was laughter
in that voice but not ridicule. Dave opened his eyes and saw a familiar face,
dazzling yet not unbearable. Awesome but not frightening. The sound of many
waters spoke again, ‘Welcome home Dave.’