Becoming Kim Kardashian... Sort Of (4)

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Chapter Four
I'm trying to take in what the Tacoma is telling me. For me, in my reality, Barack Obama is President of the United States and Sarah Palin isn't princess of anything except, maybe, FOX television. Sarah Palin was John McCain's running mate for Vice President against Obama. Palin is a television commentator, not ruler of Earth.

I pinch myself hard, with my nails.

“Ouch!”

Everything is real. It must be. There is a bloody welt on my arm. The injury magically appears in the computer's database. The Tacoma asks me if I need a bandage and I say I'm okay.

“Tacoma, did you say that Sarah Palin is ruler of heaven and earth?”

...YES, MADAM. THAT IS CORRECT...

“I thought this planet is Tara. You said she is ruler of heaven and Earth?”

...MADAM, 'EARTH' DESIGNATES THE SOIL WE SUBSIST UPON. 'TARA' IS THE PLANET'S NAME...

“Tacoma, is this Finesse City, California?”

...YES, MADAM. OUR PRESENT LOCATION IS FINESSE CITY, CALIFORNIA. EXACT PRESENT LOCATION IS ONE-MINUTE TWENTY-EIGHT SECONDS FROM FINESSE CITY STADIUM...

I'm trying to take in what the Tacoma has told me. If there is a ruler of heaven and earth, and she is Sarah Palin, where do I stand in the scheme of things? Am I designated to be a security officer for the realm?

I have yet to have contact with anyone except the Tacoma. I have contacted Dispatch once since morphing into Kim Kardashian but she is the usual officer on duty at 0046 hours. I haven't been able to talk, face-to-face with anyone. I should be able to talk with at least two of my peers as the Tacoma pulls into a security-designated parking space at the stadium.
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I hit two of the fifteen RFID disks on site before seeing another officer on her transportation platform. She spots me on mine and proceeds to my location. She is a blonde and about the same age and build as me.

“Officer Kardashian! Hi! How are you tonight, ma'am.”

I search for her metal name tag and register the information.

“A little off-schedule, Officer Wilde. How are you?”

“Same old, same old.”

She giggled and excused herself to finish her disk scanning. I hit four more disks before I reach the security office. I enter the room and check the screens which might signal activity anywhere on the stadium site.

The officer on duty has yet to turn and face me. She knows who I am, though, since my data has appeared on her monitor. Thank God it isn't the naked graphic that can be seen on my driver license or the Tacoma monitor. Both of those require I be within significant distance to activate.

The officer turns toward me and it is Christina Baronette. She appears exactly as I remember from my last transformation and in my reality.

“How are you, Kimberly?”

“I'm good, Christina, only I've got a splitting headache.”

“I'll have one of my girls get you a couple of aspirins.”

No sooner had she offered the aspirins, than a young officer appeared also holding a glass of water. I take it and thank the officer and my friend, Officer Baronette.

“Bitch Palin.”

I hear Christina Baronette mutter under her breath. She sees me register surprise and apologizes to me.

“I'm sorry, Kimberly. Please forgive me.”

“For what?”

“You know, if we say anything negative about Mother, she can have our heads.”

I am not allowing what she said to sink in.

“Mother?”

“Yes. If we say anything negative about Mother Palin, even under our breath, we have to apologize to anyone in our vicinity so that will be gone forever. If we do not apologize we may be reprimanded or, if the offense is severe enough, we can be put to death.”

What kind of reality had I shifted into this time? Not only do I have to deal with being or looking like Kim Kardashian but now I have to integrate into my mind the fact that Sarah Palin is ruler of everything and she can have our heads for anything we say against her.

“Officer Minter, please relieve me. I need to show Officer Kardashian one of the gates.”

Officer Baronette asks me to accompany her outside the security office and we start to walk into the middle of Finesse City Stadium playing field not to the gates. The middle of the field is one of the only places there isn't a listening device per United Football Association rules.

“Ain't it a bitch?” I try to add a little levity to my coworker's apology. “She could hear you say something that softly, Christina? Heck, I barely heard what you said.”

“Did you forget how sensitive this monitoring equipment is, Kimberly? Don't you remember that they are talking about putting permanent bugs into our skulls? Didn't you tell me you just got your orders to report for your transplantation?”

I cannot remember. In my reality we don't even have self-powered Tacomas or monitors that know everything about you as it happens.

“Sure. Ain't it a bitch?”

“I hear you're in line for another promotion, Officer Kardashian! Congratulations!”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“Assistant to the assistant of the Chief Operating Officer! Some day you'll be one of the old men!”

We both started giggling.

“That's far off, Chris. Hopefully I'll look prettier than any of them!”

“You already do!”

“Anyway, I need to move on. I'll never get to be an old man if I stay around here!”

“Gee, thanks, babe!”

We giggle and I return to the Tacoma. I've hit all my RFID disks and I'm through here.

God help me and the other old men. At least, in this state, I'll be the prettiest of the old men!
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...WELCOME OFFICER KARDASHIAN... READY AND AT YOUR SERVICE... SHALL I START MY ENGINE?...

“Yes, Tacoma. To the Mars and beyond!”

...CERTAINLY, MADAM, BUT WE ARE INCAPABLE OF NON-TERRAN TRAVEL...

“Then on with the manifest, Tacoma! That will do just fine!”
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The remainder of my shift is not very eventful, I can't even write a parking ticket.
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I am wondering when I turn back into my male persona. Last time this happened, I became Karl Karcher again once I touched my scanner to the RFID disk. That did not happen and I am only minutes from the office. I am beginning to worry.

I arrive at the office park which houses our security company. It is a rather small building and that necessitated moving into several of the other units on the site. We are awaiting the day when our permit goes finally clears and we can move to a brand-new building more centralized than this one.

For now, I park the Tacoma in the office park designated for our vehicles and scurry between one suite that houses a small radio station and a Speedy Man printing service. I am still in the body of Kim Kardashian.

I sign the electronic roster which registers that I am off duty. I find my vehicle which is a silver Ford Esprit. Every other vehicle in the lot is either a silver Ford Esprit or a black-and-white Toyota Tacoma. I can tell my vehicle because it is parked in my assigned space and it has also called to me by name. That is something I might need to get used to.

I read on my vehicle monitor on my way home that Mother Palin sent out an edict in early 2005 banning anything but Esprits for civilians and Tacomas for service vehicles. Three other forms of vehicles exist but they are heavy transport, light cargo transport and Office of the Motherdom business.
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I near my condo and wonder what I will find inside. The building looks somewhat the same but is in newer paint and with a better color scheme. I haven't made a call home because, if anyone is there, I didn't know if they'll recognize my voice.

The gate has no key but it recognizes me.

...GOOD DAY KIMBERLY...

The gate swings open and I search my purse, again, for keys. There are none so I am walking to my front door. Once there I notice that there is neither a door knob nor a lock of any sort. I stand motionless for a moment and am startled by another voice.

...GOOD DAY KIMBERLY... I TRUST YOUR EVENING WAS GOOD... YOU ARE ONY ONE HERE... MISS KYLE WILL RETURN SOON...

The door opens as if I am on the Starship Enterprise with the same wooshing sound. As I enter my place it looks much like I left it last evening. The only thing I'm really interested in is my bed. I am zonked.

I take of my uniform and begin to places the items in my hamper. I am soon down to my bra and panties and shiver because last night I wore boxer shorts and a black tee-shirt instead. I turn on the shower so that it warms before I step in.

I remove the rest of my things and step inside. I let the water tickle my body and start to smooth soap all over my skin. The warmth of the water felt good and I let it play with me for several minutes. I grab a poofy sponge and suds engulf me.

As I rinse I smooth my skin with my hand, feel between my legs and I'm a man.

The bathroom door opens and I am not alone.
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Comments

Another Demenchion?

Renee_Heart2's picture

Could Karl be switching between Alternet parillel universes? It is posible I guss. This story IS getting strange intresting but strange.
Love Samantha Renee Heart

Love Samantha Renee Heart