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She shakes her head in amusement, then makes notes on her pad.
“If you like this design, I’ll make a few more. The brown one you’re wearing is nice, but hunter green will look great against your dapple-gray coat.”
“I don’t want you to go to more trouble. This is fine.”
“This is one of the reasons the military brought me here, Chance. I’m here to make tail holes in the ubiquitous khakis they make all the bipeds wear, including us women. I plan to bring that up at our next town hall meeting. And if I ever meet the person who decided everyone in town had to wear Hawaiian shirts and khaki pants or shorts… well, it will not be a friendly discussion. That’s all I have to say about that.”
“Speaking of Hawaiian shirts,” I say, shrugging. “If everyone must wear them, I guess I should have one, too.” I look into the mirror, enjoying my new kilt. I feel as though I belong in a Renaissance jousting competition. The shirt would look terrible with it, though I shouldn’t complain. I’m just lucky to be on this side of the reservation and out of the reject barracks.
“Nope!” Olivia says. “Nope, nope, nope. You will not be wearing one of those heinous Hawaiian shirts with this. Not if I have anything to say about it. You would look… ridiculous.” Her eyes dart to me and she quickly amends, “Sorry. But in American society, it’s considered acceptable for men to go shirtless. If the soldiers give you trouble, you come let me know. I’ll take this up with Colonel Slater himself.”
The little bell over the door rings and Noble and Jenna barge into the shop. Word has it that they’ve moved into one of the Quonset Huts the military built for the officers.
Noble demanded one after Slater gave Ty and Olivia a private hut the night of the big Bollywood show. His roars after sex have woken me from a sound sleep every night since I moved to the dorm.
Jenna says, “Great outfit. When do I get something other than these horrible Hawaiian shirts to wear?”
I hadn’t realized the women were so salty about their clothing. Most of the splicers were just happy to wear something other than the rags we wore in captivity or the makeshift Army camo they gave us at Area 51.
Noble interrupts my musings. “Did you hear who just came to Splicer Town?”
I was told we were all locked in here for the next two years. “Nobody in, nobody out,” were the exact words the military used. Noble’s statement makes me think the answer is going to be interesting.
“The colonel’s daughter. I heard Corporal Barton say Colonel Slater’s daughter is going to be working here. They even made her sign that stack of papers you women had to sign.”
“I wonder why she’s here,” Olivia says.
“Sounds as though she’s some type of computer whiz.”
Chapter Five
Jo
“This was the set of an old TV show from the ‘60s,” Slater explains.
The impressive gate is held up on both sides by wooden uprights the size and height of telephone poles. We’re allowed in by a uniformed sentry who checks Slater’s badge even though he’s the CO of the facility.
It’s a huge place. I can’t see anything but foliage as far as the eye can see. It’s prettier here than most of the scenery we’ve traveled through the last few hours. Perhaps the TV studio planted evergreens years ago because the trees are denser here than anywhere on our trip. Finally, I see some buildings up ahead.
“This was Main Street in the show’s imaginary town, Rattlesnake Flats.”
I chuckle. It all seems so… 1960s. The dirt main street is wide enough for a six-lane highway.
“The street is authentically wide. Streets back in the day had to be wide enough to turn the beer trucks around, complete with horses.”
He points toward the street, which is lined with old-fashioned wooden storefronts that connect with a raised plank walkway.
I don’t know whose idea it was to put splicers here to serve coffee and cupcakes, but it’s not a completely crazy idea. It allows them to stay together, maintain their camaraderie, and interact with humans in doses they can tolerate. Sadly, I can’t imagine they’re all keen on remaining in this free-range zoo forever.
“I’ll show you around later. First, let me take you to your dorm room.”
We pull up behind the clearly labeled Town Hall, which looks as though it was plucked straight out of the 1800s. It’s tall and wide and I can imagine it being a gathering place in an old-timey town.
There is a T-shaped structure behind the Town Hall. Though it’s meant to blend in, it’s clear this has been built recently.
After walking through the high-ceilinged Town Hall, which could have existed two hundred years ago, we enter a modern lounge with big-screen TVs, couches, and recliners large enough for a grizzly.
“This is the coed lounge. It’s not in use yet.” He points to doors leading to the right and left. “To the left is a women’s-only lounge that leads to the women’s dorm. To the right is a mirror image for the males.”
