A Few Last Words for the Late Immortals by Michael Bishop

Author:Michael Bishop
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Science Fiction, General, Short Stories (Single Author)
Google: MlqKzgEACAAJ
Publisher: Fairwood Press
Published: 2021-11-16T05:00:00+00:00

Dexter Olin……….. Himself

IPD Worker………..* * * *

Director……………* * * *

Screenwriter……….* * * *

Cinematographer…..* * * *

The scroll did not halt until the key grip, best boy, caterer, and the cinematographer’s girlfriend’s hairdresser had all had their asterisks screened. Then the tape rewound with a clunk, a whir, and a final clunk. Dexter wanted to run it again, but someone knocked on the door.

When he answered it, he stood face to face with the IPD worker who’d brought the tape. Dexter reddened, stammered.

The IPD worker touched her cap bill. I need the package I delivered earlier.

Why?

It’s not yours. I brought it by mistake.

I’ve already opened it.

It wasn’t meant for you. It’s not yours.

Who else could it belong to? Dexter fumed to think that this uniformed woman wanted to filch from him the video dream in which she met his every longing. To whom did she plan to deliver it? How could anybody make such a mistake? Her demand was not merely ludicrous, it was an outrage.

It’s mine, she said. It belongs to me.

You didn’t know the package you brought me belonged to you? Dexter strode to his VCR and ejected the tape.

Hey, you not only opened it—you watched it!

I thought it was mine. And I don’t want anyone else to see it. Especially not you. What gall, to ask me to return it.

I’ve already seen it. I don’t want anyone else watching it either, Mr. Olin. I just want it back so I can get rid of it in my own way.

You did that by dropping it off here.

A blunder. Videos make up a lot of my deliveries. It could happen to anyone.

Hardly. I’ve been twice singled out. You can’t expect me to yield the proof, even though I never took part in any of that stuff. He lifted the tape. What is this? Computer imaging? High-tech blackmail?

Oh, no. It’s real. As real, anyway, as anything you or I ever see on TV.

What absolute bunk. Please get out.

Not without the tape. From what I’ve seen there—nodding at it—you must have a degree of chivalry.

She was half a head shorter than Dexter. What if he grabbed her and thrust her out the door? He tried that, but she karate-chopped his wrist and slid away from his lunge.

You’re trespassing, Dexter cried. Possession’s nine tenths of the law, and this tape is in my hands. You gave it to me.

Let me buy it back.

There’s not enough money in the world!

Must money be the currency of our exchange?

Dexter squinted at the IPD worker. He took her meaning and thought of another form of barter. A frisson of shame and excitement triggered the pulse in his throat. He began to unbutton his park-service shirt. Was what he’d witnessed on the tape about to fulfill itself in sweaty reality in his windowless living room? The IPD worker smiled. He stepped toward her, reached out for her cap. When he removed it, he took another step, to kiss her forehead. It struck him then that the removal of

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