Free The Old Reactor by David Ohle

that prediction for a moment. It made no sense to him. Why would he ever need fans? He gave a second thought to shooting Franklin. He curled his finger a bit more tightly around the niner’s hair trigger.
    Moldenke and Salmonella continued to sit in the motor waiting. The black-haired woman opened her upstairs window. “I heard the shots. Did you get them all?”
    At that moment Udo came out of the basement. “All but one, ma’am. Franklin. He’s too famous to kill.”
    “What will I do with all the bodies?”
    “Don’t know, ma’am. That’s your business. Get that trussed up Franklin to help you.”
    The window slammed shut and the shade was pulled down.
    An estimated seven thousand gallons of so-called barrel honey spilled into City Canal near Bunkerville today. A freight wagon overturned, ruptured, then fell from a bridge into the Canal. The release of the dangerous “honey” caused a yellow cloud to spread over the City and two thousand were evacuated from their homes. Because Bunkerville uses City Canal as a source of drinking water, the pumping facilities will be closed for forty-eight hours as a precautionary measure. The importation of barrel honey from Altobello’s Old Reactor area is forbidden by Bunkerville ordinance, punishable by detonation.
    A rumor spread in Altobello that Franklin would be playing an exhibition round in Liberty Park. The weedy, old, prefreedom course there had been restored by jellyhead labor over a period of weeks. Word of mouth spread, and there was intense interest and anticipation.
    Moldenke made a point of attending, though he missed the first eight holes. Udo and Salmonella were easy enough for him to spot in the crowd at the ninth. She wore a brilliantly pink dress and black patent pumps. Udo, in his uniform, was almost indistinguishable from others in uniform. Sorrel was there, too, with Big Ernie, who carried a cloth-covered basket of bear claws.
    Moldenke tapped Udo on the shoulder. “Udo.”
    “Moldenke.”
    Moldenke smiled. “Salmonella. You look nice.”
    “Thank you, Moldenke. Why are you here?”
    “I want to see Franklin play.”
    Udo said, “I turned in the valves, ten of them. That’s three months off my time.”
    “Which is indeterminate, like mine. So it doesn’t make sense to think you’ll be getting time off no matter how many valves you turn in.”
    Salmonella tugged at Udo’s uniform. “Moldenke’s right, Daddy. That shows how stupid you are.”
    “Quit tugging on the uniform, you little shit.” He gave her a nasty thump on the ear with a snap of his middle finger.
    “Ouch! I hate you!”
    Udo pushed Salmonella backward. She nearly fell, until Moldenke stopped her and stood her up. She began to cry and rub her eyes.
    Udo suddenly back-paced a few steps then turned and lost himself in the crowd.
    Moldenke said, “Hurry up, run after him. Please, go with your father.”
    “He’s gone,” Salmonella said, “and I’m glad. I’ll stay with you. You can take care of me.”
    “Where’s your mother? Who’s your mother?”
    “I don’t know. He didn’t talk about her.”
    “An uncle, an aunt, anyone else who might take you?”
    “Nobody.”
    “I don’t have much room in my room, and it’s all I can do taking care of my angry bowel. You should go to the Youth Home. I’ll take you there tomorrow. You can sleep on my floor tonight.”
    There was a roar from the crowd when Franklin approached the ninth hole, then a lull as he studied the lie of his ball about ten feet from the cup.
    “I can’t see,” Salmonella whined. “Pick me up.” Moldenke lifted the bare-boned girl to his shoulders easily. Her legs cradled his neck and she rested her chin on the top of his head. “That Franklin sure does dress sharp.”
    Moldenke stood on tiptoe to see over the crowd. Franklin looked resplendent in a yellow silk blouse, checkered shorts, and a spiffy long-billed cap. His trainer was never far from him, shouting encouragement. Franklin crouched