9: A Real Stunner

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"Oh," said Garth. "I didn't know you had company."

Richard turned to face him, his hands still held aloft. "Garth."

"Hi, Richard. D'you know wine can get you drunk in two glasses?" He giggled. "Because I had four and—who's this, your girlfend? Girlfend?" He scowled, enunciating the next attempt very carefully. "Girlfrrriend?"

The intruder's expression might have been described as a frown, had she had normal facial features. "I am not Richard Arthur Campbell's girl friend."

"I keep telling him to go on Tinder. Richard, I am so. Proud. Of you. It is more than about time. And hi. Hello, wow. Nice to meet you, Tinder Girlfend. What are those?" Garth walked across the room, a hand prematurely outstretched. "Those are the weirdest dreadlocks I ever seen."

"Garth, you bloody lightweight, stop—" Richard said, but he was cut off by the intruder.

"Do not touch me or I shall vaporize you." She leveled her fist at Garth.

Richard's guts had turned into something he was sure would resemble tinned beef stew. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm pretty sure she's serious," he said.

"Vaporize," Garth repeated. "All right, here we go." He put his hands up, like Richard.

"There, he's cooperating. But he's also drunk—obviously—so don't ask him to do anything complicated," Richard said. "What next? Wallets?"

"Wallet?" the woman repeated. She frowned. "I have no use for your wallet. Please allow me 45 seconds to access and download the schematics from your device." Her tentacles and her eyes both focused in on Richard's computer screen, and she tapped with one hand while the other fist remained leveled in the men's general direction.

"Richard, schemactics?" Garth stage whispered. "As in solar power sneaky cell schemactics?"

"Garth, shut up."

"Are you giving her our schemantics?"

"She has a gun. I am not giving her the schematics. She is taking them. Because, as you would so charmingly say: 'Murica."

"Those schemantics are going to make us a millionaire. Hey." Garth lowered his hands and advanced toward the intruder. "Just wait a—"

A blast of light shattered the dimness of Richard's office. For an instant, there was the utter absence of sound. Richard's ears began to ring a second later, and he stared at the space where Garth had stood, too shocked to feel anything but surprise.

Then, he became aware of a curl of smoke snaking out of the wall, and, turning his head, he saw a suspiciously Garth-shaped hole in the closet door. Two feet, one of them missing a shoe, protruded from the closet. Richard shot toward the body of his best friend, shrieking his name.

Almost apologetically, the intruder said, "Do not worry, Richard Arthur Campbell. I have not vaporized him, as will be obvious upon inspection. I have simply stunned him. I simply wished to—" a pause— "intimidate you."

"Well fucking done, it worked!" Richard snarled. He began dragging Garth out of the closet. The man's rampant ginger hair stuck out from his skull every which way, and his expression was frozen in a rictus of mild surprise. "Is he going to be all right?"

"It is not advisable to move him. Please allow him to recover where he lies. He will survive, although you may wish to inform him that some bleeding from the orifices is normal." The intruder had returned her attention to Richard's computer. She placed a small, square device on one corner of the keyboard, and all of her tentacley locks were extending toward the device expectantly.

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