Free Everybody Scream! by Jeffrey Thomas

Her eyes were drawn to a knocked-over trash barrel. Fucking clean-up kids–probably smoking seaweed behind a ride somewhere…
    A peripheral movement on her left, she turned her head and gasped. The KeeZee had come out of nowhere. It stood staring at her, down, as she might look upon a child. Its three black marble eyes glistened. Glossy blackish-gray skin almost translucent in thinner areas over the hard bones of the monkey-wrench head. Black hair flowed from the sides and back of the skull. The creature loomed six and a half feet in its black uniform, but was a foot or more shorter than the even more dreaded white-skinned northern KeeZee. It didn’t speak.
    “Thanks for the heart attack,” said Sophi. She knew the names of the two KeeZee security officers but couldn’t tell them apart.
    Now came Mitch Garnet, catching up with his bouncy swagger. “Mornin’, boss-lady.”
    “Just ‘boss’ will do.”
    “You’re not a lady?”
    “Sometimes, when I’m in the mood, but what I mean is there’s no boss-gentleman.”
    “What’s your husband?” Mitch smiled.
    Sophi wasn’t really joking. “An investor and a pain in the anus.” She was trying to remind the security chief that she was the owner and manager and Del had no actual authority, but without seeming insecure about her position. It was a constant problem, and not really Del’s fault because often she did rely on him to help her, but sometimes people consulted Del where they should have consulted her, brought their problems to Del first. Mitch was good for that, too often. It chafed her.
    “Got a body this morning behind the Screamer. Care to see it?”
    “Mitch, have you considered selling admission to the morgue? And you could be the barker. I’ll even buy you a ringmaster’s top hat.”
    “You’d make good money.” Garnet didn’t take offense, although Sophi was in reality criticizing him–she always had this sarcastic humor.
    “I’d rather you just tell me what happened; I have a good imagination.”
    “A teenage girl, no I.D., her face totally caved in from a heavy intake of purple vortex and probably some other shit.”
    “Great.”
    “I asked your husband if I could run the fat man out but he said no, it’s just one more night. But another kid or two could die tonight. And those fucking Martians that come around here make me edgy–that situation could always explode.”
    “A lot of situations could explode. You know you can get buttons from the guy who runs the corn dog stand? And iodine from about half the other shops?” She was exaggerating. “You can get anything here. They make good money on the kids. What can we do? If I really screened, if I ran a clean shop, a great portion of our crowd would be a lot less inclined to show. It’s their choice, Mitch. I choose not to sniff vortex, but if some teenage nit-wit wants to cave in her face that’s her choice in life. She’d do it elsewhere. How bad can I feel? You have to be a realist, ugly as it may seem.”
    “She didn’t choose to cave in her face, Mrs. Kahn.”
    “She chose the road that led to the caving in of her face, Mr. Garnet. And call me Sophi, please, like I’ve told you–I’m getting tired of being Mrs. Del Kahn, like I’m just the female extension of him or something.”
    Now Mitch began to feel offended, as much as his gratitude and loyalty allowed. “With all respects to you and your husband, Mr. Kahn hasn’t been too famous these past few years. I don’t think anybody around here sees you as being just Mrs. Del Kahn. If anything, I think sometimes he’s seen as being Mr. Sophi Kahn.”
    “Whatever, Mitch. Just try to I.D. that girl, alright?”
    “Right.” Mitch turned away, rather less buoyant than when he’d approached. The KeeZee lingered a moment, jagged jaws parted a few inches, gazing down at her; it hadn’t once moved.
    “Dismissed, handsome,” Sophi told it, a little uneasy.
    Mitch gave a whistle. The giant then pivoted to follow