Inwiktus
by Mizhowlinmad (HB), 2010
Disclaimer: District 9 belongs to N. Blomkamp and TriStar Pictures. I do this strictly for the swieties and not for profit.
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"I am the captain of my soul." ~William Ernest Henley, "Invictus"
"I might have crapped in my pants." ~Wikus van de Merwe
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MNU Headquarters, Johannesburg, Thursday, 08:29:07 hours
"Wiiiiiikus! There you are!"
The woman's voice was a little like Minnie Pearl's on the old American Hee Haw reruns, if Minnie had been slowly run over by a steamroller. She hurried down the corridor as fast as her pudgy, high-heeled feet would carry her, which wasn't very fast. But it was fast enough. Wikus couldn't duck into the empty conference room now. He'd been spotted by the Hyena.
First he'd been stuck in traffic for an hour. Now this. His day was officially in the shitter.
"Saskie," Wikus said, pasting a broad, artificially cheery grin on his face. "How are things in…" He racked his brain, trying to think of which department was currently saddled with Saskie "the Hyena" Swanepoel, who always favored loud prints, louder accessories…and any male she thought she could get her hands on.
"Media Relations and Community Outreach, bokkie." She put one fat hand covered in cheap jewelry on his shoulder. "You do remember me, don't you?" she asked with a snorting, girly giggle.
Last thing I remember is a crazy gesuip woman cornering me at the Christmas party.
"Oh, yes. They're…lucky to have you over there, ey?" Wikus made an exaggerated show of shuffling around the file folders in his arms. "It's good to see you again, but I'm really quite busy today, and..."
A playful swat to his shoulder, and one of Saskie's gaudy cubic zirconia rings snagged in the navy sweater vest he'd bought just last week. "Oh, drat. Anyway, Wikus, I've been transferred over to Alien Affairs. A little inter-departmental project," she explained as she clumsily untangled the ring.
His mustache twitched while his stomach did a series of awkward lurches. If this was Smit's way at getting back at him for making Tania cry last week…
"I can let you work with Fundiswa, but I'm always swamped on Thursdays," he said in what he hoped was a convincing tone, but which came out more like an old car engine sputtering. He was by no means swamped on Thursdays, or any other day, but he wasn't going to tell this crazy goffel that.
She giggled again. Maybe she thought he was flirting. Wikus remembered the horrifying scene from the party, and shuddered.
"No, they specifically assigned me to you," Saskie cooed. "For the World Cup preparation committee. One Media Relations employee to work in Alien Affairs leading up to the big event in June, you know, to help handle all the interviews and press releases. And guess who the lucky boykie is?" Her voice rose to an absurdly high pitch, like she was on a late-night infomercial selling a new and wonderful product.
"Me," he said glumly. It wasn't a question. It was a sentence. A sentence of three fokking months with Saskie. And Wikus knew nothing he could say or do would change his fate.
The Hyena's fuchsia-painted lips pouted. "Don't you want to work with me?"
"Oh, no, it's not that, Saskie," he lied. "We're always so boring over here, you know, lots of paperwork…not really much excitement save for Fridays when the field units go out with the First Battalion boys to D9…"
"I think we can make it exciting!" she declared, clapping her hands together. "Why don't you give me the grand tour, Wikus?"
Definitely a day for the kak pile.
"Right this way," Wikus said, resigned.
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09:57:58 hours
In the course of slightly more than one hour, Saskie had managed to give a condensed biography of each of her five cats along with their medical histories. She was in the process of telling the tale of Figgins' last bout with a urinary tract infection when Wikus could no longer stay silent on the matter.
"I never liked cats," he said without looking at her.
"Oh, that's because you don't know cats!" Saskie slapped him on the shoulder. She had a terrible habit of doing that. Thankfully, nothing snagged this time.
I do know they make me swell up like a fokking balloon. That's all I need to know.
"I'm allergic."
"Oh, shame. They're lovely creatures," Saskie sounded disappointed.
"So, that's pretty much it, ey?" Wikus, desperate to talk about anything other than felines, pointed to his desktop. Like most of his co-workers in Alien Affairs, he didn't have much in the way of workspace. He didn't even have a nameplate on his desk. Having Saskie sitting uncomfortably close to him, her rotund body shoehorned into his spare office chair and her piggy eyes taking in everything, did nothing to increase the concept of personal space.
"Who's this?" She changed the subject abruptly, picking up the silver-framed photo of Tania on his desk. "Your giiiirlfriend?" she teased.
"My wife," he said abruptly, taking the picture from her and putting it back in its place of honor. "Tania. You met her at the Christmas party, I think."
Subtlety was lost on Saskie. She let out a snort of laughter. "Well, she's a lucky girl to have you. I knew someone would snatch you up."
Wikus thought of the Hyena's namesake, an animal whose stomach could digest even the hardest of hooves and horns. It fit her. Not to mention the giggles, which sounded just like those of the scavenging canines of the veldt.
Listening to her all morning had given him a headache. He groaned and rubbed at his temples.
"Something wrong, Wikus?" she asked, concerned.
"No, it's just a headache. I'll be fine." As long as you stop talking for five minutes, he mentally added.
"Oh, I have aspirin in my purse. Why don't you take it?" she offered, rummaging in a handbag that looked big enough to lose a small aircraft in.
"I'm fine, really, Saskie…"
"TAKE THE FOKKIN' ASPIRIN!"
For someone with such a high-pitched voice, Saskie could really bellow. Figuring it might shut her klap for a few seconds, Wikus gulped down the little pills she offered without even looking.
Then, oddly enough, Saskie was the one who looked worried. "Were those white pills or yellow, my boy?"
"They're your pills, not mine," Wikus replied. "How should I know?"
She pulled out an unopened bottle of aspirin from her voluminous handbag. "Oh, silly me! I think I accidentally gave you Nelli's kidney stone pill! I doubt it'll have much effect, though, bokkie…where are you going?"
Normally he didn't care for running, but at the moment all he could think of was whether or not he'd be able to reach the toilet before the contents of his stomach wound up on the floor.
xxx
10:15:06 hours
: "Wikus? Is everything all right?" Saskie's voice, along with a persistent knock at the restroom door.
Everything was not all right. His stomach was sensitive enough, and it had spent the last ten minutes purging its entire contents into a porcelain bowl. His plans for a quick dash to Gunter's for lunch were now in ruins.
He tried to say something, but it escaped his lips in a low moan. His reflection was pale, sweaty, and wild-eyed in the mirror.
I swear, I'll never fight with Tania again if I can just get through this day.
The trouble was, it wasn't just today. The prospect of three months with Saskie as his partner loomed.
Wikus threw up again.
xxx
10:58:17 hours
"I make a lovely cup of chamomile tea. You look like you could use it," Saskie offered for at least the third time since his return from the men's room.
He wasn't thinking about that. His main concerns at the moment were the press conference (which she'd only remembered to tell him about fifteen minutes prior) and how much he despised Saskie Swanepoel.
Smit was probably watching him right now. Laughing his ass off.
Even if he wasn't, he was getting his revenge.
"How about some water, then?" She was just incapable of shutting up.
More to appease her than because he was actually thirsty, Wikus nodded. It might at least give him twenty seconds of respite.
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12:04:16 hours
"We're so glad you're all here today."
Saskie was at the podium spouting off some pre-written drivel about how proud MNU was to be helping in the preparations for the Cup, and how thrilling all of this was…
The headache had not gone away despite the water and the purging. Wikus sat behind her on a folding chair, massaging his temples and groaning softly. One of the suits next to him shot him a dirty look.
Who cares. It's not like I'm on the fokking TV broadcast.
They were in Press Room 2, which wasn't as large as Press Room 1, but still had the requisite flags, MNU logo on the wall, and space for almost a hundred reporters and photographers. The way they were clicking away, it looked as though Saskie, with her bright purple blouse and gaudy jewelry, were trapped in a disco.
"…and now I'd like to turn the proceedings over to my counterpart in Alien Affairs, Wikus van de Merwe…"
The words blindsided him like a runaway fullback. Either it had slipped her mind entirely to warn him, or it was one of her "surprises."
Wikus hated surprises.
Right now, he couldn't exactly excuse himself. The SABC crew, along with a half dozen others, had their lenses pointed squarely at him. Saskie pumped his hand like she was trying to sell him a lousy used car, and wished him luck.
"Um…" Words had deserted him. He had no idea what to say. Cameras flashed, reporters shouted questions, and Wikus' vision swirled.
The next thing he knew, some suit was picking him up from the floor. Another was wiping down the podium as the reporters took more pictures.
Oh, FOK…
xxx
13:26:28 hours
"Be sure to come back if you're feeling…ill, Mr. van de Merwe," the nurse said with a note of pity as she shooed him back to work.
He was sick enough…sick that he'd thrown up on national television, sick of surprises, sick of Smit's perverted sense of humor. Most of all, Wikus was sick of Saskie. The woman was a one-person wrecking crew. They'd love her in First Battalion. The bloody prawns would run away in terror.
It was a thought. Next time he ran into Venter, he might toss the idea out.
For the time being, he was still shackled to her.
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14:51:01 hours
"You look dreadful," she gasped.
"I've had much better days," he said. Like the first day I went to D9…and almost had my fokking head blown off.
"Guess what? I've got just the thing to make you feel better." Saskie batted those overlong, mascaraed eyelashes at him.
He shot her a glance that would have made even Venter wither.
"It's a surprise, bokkie. Come with me…"
Smit had to be behind this. The bastard. Tania, baby, what did I get myself into when I married you?
Like an obedient puppy, Wikus followed her.
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15:03:12 hours
"Where are we going?" he asked again.
She wasn't saying anything for a change, just leading him by his hands. They'd left the Alien Affairs wing and were somewhere on another floor. Wikus didn't recognize the sounds, or the voices, or the smells of anything. HQ was a huge, labyrinthine collection of many doors, though, and he had only explored a handful of them.
All he knew was that they'd gone down, then left, through a long corridor, right…or was it left?
Wikus felt his stomach growl. He realized that on top of everything else, he still hadn't eaten lunch. Right now, that seemed about as likely as his kissing Saskie full on the lips.
"We're heeeere," she announced as they came to a halt.
That could mean anything. She might have lured him here to seduce him, or worse, to eat him alive and leave nothing save for a rapidly unraveling sweater vest to show evidence that he had ever existed. But a door opened, and a light came on…so who knew?
"Since we're going to be working together, I wanted you to meet some of my friends."
The collection of faces that greeted Wikus was unfamiliar. All were as unfortunate in their looks as Saskie. Three men, three women, one of whom he thought he recognized from the cafeteria. All with cheery expressions, and all with one other feature in common.
A black t-shirt with the silhouette of a prawn and the unlikely slogan "PAP."
What the fok…?
"Wikus, I'd like you to meet Angelika, and Skylar..."
He interrupted. "What is this kak?"
Saskie laughed right back in her obnoxious way. "Oh, you don't know about PAP? Prawns are People? But of course, I have to include you, bokkie, if we're going to work together. You know that FIFA won't even let the poor dears field their own team?"
"You dragged me here to a fokking prawn rights meeting?"
For the first time that day, Saskie was the one who looked shocked. "You don't agree that Prawns Are People?"
Wikus felt his blood pressure shooting right into the stratosphere. He took the nearest placard, held by Angelika, and violently tore it in half.
"Fok all of you!"
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16:58:07 hours
Two more minutes.
After the dust had settled and his temper had died down and he'd talked Skylar into not pressing assault charges, Wikus found himself at his desk yet again. Minus Saskie.
That had been interesting. The conversation with her superior, a bosomy Xhosa woman who nodded sagaciously as Wikus told his tale of woe and destruction, and agreed that maybe it was best if she worked in another department. At least for a while.
Of course, Smit would have something to say about that.
Thinking of his father-in-law made him in turn think of Tania. It was his night to cook tonight, and he still hadn't eaten anything.
He only hoped the line at Gunter's would be manageable.
xxx
18:04:17 hours
"Hi, baby."
Wikus didn't immediately answer. Tania kissed him on the cheek and took his briefcase.
"What is it?"
He sighed. "Nothing, baby. I've had a very long day is all."
"I know."
"You do?"
She nodded, her gentle eyes soft. "Fundiswa called me. He said you weren't feeling well."
That was the understatement of the fokking century.
"So I decided to surprise you," said Tania, as Wikus felt a twitch hearing the word, "and cook for tonight. I made shrimp scampi, your favorite, and…baby? Where are you going?"
Wikus knew. One day, three trips to bow to the porcelain god.
And it wasn't even dark outside yet…
Fini
(Note: My first story from Wikus' pov, so not sure if I did it right. All comments are welcome!)
