by Simon Ings
This was no professional break-in, more likely some kid’s spree. But coming so soon after his smartcard? And then the madness on the beach?
No.
This meant something.
He peered through the curtains. The furniture was overturned. The cupboards stood open, their contents all disgorged.
The room appeared to be empty. Ajay booted in the door. It fell into the hall with a satisfying crash.
Why now? Ajay wondered, drinking in the room as fast as he could. Why these three things at once? The card, Presidio, now the break-in. There had to be a link. He felt naked without his gun. He crossed the living room with soft, quick steps, past the kitchen – the fridge had been turned out, and milk and broken eggs and flour were trodden into the cork tiling – and swung carefully into the hallway.
It was empty.
He tried the door of the bedroom. It was unlocked. He pushed the door wide. The room appeared to be untouched. The gun lay on the bed, where – presumably – Rosa had left it that morning. He checked inside the wardrobe for his valuables. The beads from Dayus Ram, the tools he’d acquired to doctor smartcards, his golden suit, the remaining pharmaceuticals. Nothing was missing.
Nothing? It was all wrong. This was the very stuff a burglar looks for, yet here it was, untouched.
Noises in the living room brought him back to the present. He snatched up the gun, leaned out the bedroom and aimed—
‘They’ve ruined it!’
It was Rosa.
‘No,’ she moaned, silhouetted in the bashed-in doorway. ‘No.’
‘Shush,’ he said, crossing the room towards her. ‘Go easy—’
‘My home—’
‘We’re leaving.’
‘My kitchen!’
‘Kitchen? Rosa, Presidio’s rampaging through the sea!’
She shrugged and looked away, as though shying from his words. ‘I know.’
‘You know? And you’re still worried about this?”
‘This kitchen’s mine,’ she sobbed.
‘It was never ours,’ he said, ‘none of it.’
The look she gave him was so beseeching, so pathetic, he had a sudden desire to embrace her. She was like a child, a little girl, always in need of comfort.
‘Come here,’ he said. ‘Let’s pack our bags. We can’t stay here.’
‘No. Ajay, no!’ she wailed, and dashed past him, past the counter-top into the kitchen. She stood amongst the flour and broken eggs and put her hands over her face and burst out wailing, face flushed, full of tears.
He eased past her and opened the freezer. He pulled packets of frozen burgers aside, hunting for Elle’s head. He came to a sudden stop. ‘Sweet Jesus, Rosa!’
Knowing what he’d found, she stemmed her tears, folded her arms and looked at him, hard-eyed and defensive. ‘What?’
‘Just what the fuck are these?’ he demanded. From the freezer he drew two hoary balls, one black, one marmalade.
‘Just heads.’
He dropped them on the ground. One cracked. He stared at them, making out their forms, the frosted ears, the shrunken gums, the matted, bloody fur. He reached in again, brought out two more and threw them at her feet. ‘Cats’ heads!’
‘No. That’s a rat.’
‘What happened to the bodies?’
‘I ate them.’
‘You ate—?’
‘I binned the bones!’
‘And this you call discreet?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Jesus Christ, Rosa.’
She broke into sobs again. ‘Be nice to me, Ajay, this is so horrible.’
He leaned into the freezer again, making sure Elle’s head was there. It was still in its bubble-wrap, sealed with silver waterproof tape. He picked it out.
‘Oh Jesus,’ said Rosa, ‘I don’t want to look.’
‘Then don’t.’
Rosa hurried to the back door, unlocked it and descended the stairs into the garden.
Ajay inspected the head. The hacked neck-stump was all brown now, he saw. The way it poked through the plastic, it looked for all the world like a fossilised root. The gore within the stump crumbled under the pressure of his hands like earth. He felt the shape of Elle’s skull, slipping about under the wrapping on a layer of grease. Water had got inside the package and what with constant thawing and refreezing, the skin and scalp had deliquesced. The nose had disappeared completely, not even a hole where it had been. He thought he saw a line of teeth, poking through her left cheek. He imagined the face peeling off its decayed attachments, floating like a loose bag round the bone . . .
‘Oh Jesus Christ,’ he breathed.
It was useless. Hopelessly rotten. There was no point taking it to Rio. All he had now was the data.
‘Ajay!’
‘What?’
‘Come quick!’
He dropped the head back in the freezer and slipped the gun from the waistband of his pants. He crossed to the door. ‘Where are you?’
‘Ajay! Quick!’
Rosa’s voice seemed to come from beneath the stairs. He glanced over the banisters. There was no one there. He descended the steps.
‘Oh hurry up!’
He turned and saw her, in amongst the stilts which bore the rear rooms, half hidden by weeds. With her – someone else. In shadow except for a leg in suit pants. Turquoise. Stained with blood. ‘Rosa,’ he snapped, raising his gun, ‘come away.’
‘He’s hurt, Ajay!’
‘Is he awake?’
‘Seebaran!’ A familiar voice. ‘Get over here, God fuck it. Help me. Shit!’
He bent down and looked in under the house.
It wasn’t a kid, or a ghoul from Haag, but a fat man with a stupid moustache and burly arms.
‘I might have known it was you,’ Ajay said. ‘You and your crappy suits.’
‘Get a fucking ambulance!’
‘A battle dressing if you’re lucky.’
‘You know him?’ Rosa asked.
‘Move out the way.’
‘No!’ begged Gloria, inching into the shadows.
Rosa made room for Ajay between the rough wooden stilts. He crawled in and stared at Gloria’s leg. ‘Go get a knife,’ he told Rosa.
‘Oh, God, no!’ Gloria screamed, ‘you sick fuck-up—’
‘To cut your trousers with, you silly shit,’ Ajay snapped back. ‘You want me to dress it or not?’ He turned to Rosa. ‘Go on. And put the kettle on.’
Rosa scrambled out and up the stairs.
‘So what happened?’
‘I slipped on the stairs.’
Ajay held his gaze. ‘You want I twist your foot?’
Gloria licked his lips. ‘Okay,’ he said.
‘In your own time.’
‘Herazo sent me.’
‘When?’
‘The day you down-welled.’
‘Bullshit. We were off course by one whole hemisphere.’
‘Haag’s eyes were watching. Our news dumbheads caught wind of it, threw up a report on Hez’s desk four hours into landfall.’
Ajay relaxed.
‘You mind you point your fucking gun elsewhere?’
Ajay let it drop into his lap. He stared into some private middle-distance.
‘Ajay?’
‘Haag knows.’
‘Fuck,’ Gloria tried to laugh, ended up coughing. ‘Fuck, the whole world knows, man, you’re a fucking celebrity!’
‘Then why’re we here?’ said Rosa, creeping in with scissors and a glass of water for the injured man.
Gloria snatched it thankfully.
‘Don’t chug it,’ Ajay warned.
‘I know, I know,’ Gloria grumbled. He took two sips then turned to Rosa: ‘Fuck knows is my answer. Fuck knows why no one’s eaten you.’
‘Maybe they were scared of you,’ said Ajay, chewing up Gloria’s pants with kitchen scissors.
‘Ha, fucking ha. Oh, Jesus Christ—’ He gagged and flailed about.
‘Okay,’ said Aja
y calmly. ‘Stay still.’
‘Oh you fucking cunt.’
‘It was an accident.’
‘Like fuck. Oh God—’ He was in too much pain then to speak much.
Rosa went up to fetch a blanket.
‘You know, Seebaran,’ Gloria whispered. ‘You know.’
‘What?’
‘Why you’re still alive. Why they’ve not swallowed you.’
‘Yeah. My charmed life.’
‘You must know.’
Ajay faced him out.
Gloria took a deep, shaky breath. ‘Haag wants you to make it back to Rio.’
‘Why?’
‘To make Rio Snow-like is why, Ajay. I’m fucking dying here. Don’t play the game-show host with me.’
‘You’re not dying. Look.’
‘Oh God.’
‘Look.’
Gloria glanced squeamishly at his leg. The bone had broken through the skin. ‘Oh, God.’
‘A simple fracture. Traction’s all it takes.’
Rosa returned with blankets.
Ajay took hold of Gloria’s ankle and began to pull.
Gloria screamed.
‘Shut up!’ Ajay ordered.
‘It hurts like hell. Sweet Jesus, let me bite something, I’ll shear my tongue.’
Shama sprang to mind. ‘Rosa,’ he said, gently, ‘give him your belt.’
She took it off and wrapped it round to make a gag and put it in Gloria’s mouth.
Ajay pulled again.
Gloria’s eyes rolled up into his head.
‘Hang on,’ Ajay urged, studying the wound, the bone vanishing in a pool of red. ‘Okay. Rosa find something I can splint this with.’
They were alone again.
‘Why did he send you here?’
Gloria spat out the gag. ‘Please, Seebaran—’
‘God damn you, why?’
‘The pain—’
‘You don’t tell me, I let your ankle go.’
‘Okay!’ he gasped.
Ajay waited.
‘Herazo believes the report,’ Gloria panted. ‘He figures what you’ve brought from Dayus Ram is tainted meat, seeded with Snow.’
‘He sent you here to stop me, then.’
‘Christ, no.’ He hawked and spat bloody phlegm down his silk shirt. ‘Why should he care? You bring him something makes Rio properly Massive, he’ll be satisfied.’
‘For Rio to be Snow-bound was his greatest fear, last time we talked.’
‘Back then he was in control, thought he could win the budding war with Haag. But time’s moved on. He’s desperate now. Haag’s been launching pirate raids on DreamBrasil, sowing Snow-virus all over. Christ.’ He shivered. ‘Where’s that fucking blanket?’
Ajay threw a wrap to him.
With shaking fingers, Gloria covered himself. He reached for another wrap. Ajay tugged them from his reach: ‘I brought no Snow from Dayus Ram. Data is all I have.’
‘Not true.’
‘Some samples that have spoiled, sure, no fault of mine. Massive-into-meat techniq was what I was to find, and that I’ve done. But there’s no Massive in my luggage.’ He double-took. ‘That’s why Hez sent you, yes? To see I don’t hold out on you.’
‘That and to bring you in safely.’
‘It would serve you right if I left you here.’
Rosa returned with the kettle and splints she’d made from a book shelf, splitting the wood length-ways. ‘Will this do?’
‘Tear the blanket into strips,’ said Ajay, tossing the cover off Gloria’s leg.
She saw the wound. ‘That’s horrible.’
‘Thank you ever so bloody much.’
‘So, you satisfied?’ Ajay asked him. ‘Your fucking inventory complete?’
‘A stealth sub slips into SF next Monday after dark. Come midnight, picks us up at pier twenty-nine.’
‘SF?’ Ajay echoed, disbelieving. ‘Are you mad? What of Presidio?’
‘What of it? It’s cleistogammed, relax.’
Rosa passed Ajay a handful of makeshift bandages. He began dressing the wound.
Gloria keened.
‘You want the gag back?’
Gloria shook his head. ‘Just go easy.’
‘Presidio’s awake,’ Ajay insisted. ‘It tried to swallow us. It knows we’re here.’
‘What kind of crap is this?’ Gloria demanded, shivering.
‘Rosa, give him another blanket, he’s going into shock.’
‘So now you notice,’ Gloria grumbled through chattering teeth.
‘You’ll have to call off the rendezvous,’ Ajay told him with grim satisfaction. ‘Presidio is waking out its sleep. That sub enters the Bay, mermen with razor teeth will be all over it.’
‘No way. Ajay, I’m taking you in.’
‘On crutches?’
‘And if not me then someone after me. How far do you think you’ll get without a smartcard?’
‘It was you.’
‘Damn right. Vacation over. We know where you are, and so does Haag. For some reason they’re letting us take Snow-Dayus Ram into Rio. Herazo’s so damn scared of losing DreamBrasil to Haag’s viruses, he’s willing to web any Massive to the substrate – even a Massive Haag approves of.’
‘But I’ve no Massive,’ Ajay insisted.
‘Sure you have,’ said Gloria, and pointed at Rosa. ‘Right there.’
Rosa glanced from him to Ajay, frightened.
Ajay laughed weakly. ‘Rosa’s no Massive, you poor dumb fuck. She’s Stateside, just a squeeze I found, a friend.’
Gloria sneered.
‘Well, look at her, for heaven’s sake! She looks special to you?’
‘Special as fuck.’
‘A friend is all,’ Ajay repeated, the threat clear in his voice.
‘From New York, I suppose,’ Gloria added, ironically.
‘From where?’
‘Ask her where Liberty is, you silly shit.’
Ajay turned to Rosa, confused.
Rosa blushed. ‘I told him I was Eastern Seaboard-born.’
‘You know him?’
Gloria cackled. Ajay tied the last knot tight around his leg, making him choke with pain. ‘Shut up.’
‘Ajay, you silly shit, she’s Snow-made, Dayus Ram stuff, just what Rio needs.’
‘She’s just a girl!’
‘She’s better than the beads and you know it.’
‘The beads is all I’ve got to give!’
‘Rosa is all. Rosa buys your sis back, my friend, not one thing else.’
‘Back?’ Ajay echoed. ‘What do you mean, buys Shama back?’
‘Rosa arrives in Rio and your sister’s heart is healed. You don’t, Herazo rips it out her chest.’
Ajay seized Gloria’s leg. ‘You fucking double-crossing—’ He began to twist.
Gloria’s scream was loud enough to wake the dead.
‘Ajay,’ Rosa sobbed, and pulled at him, ‘stop it!’
Ajay let go, disgusted with himself. ‘My sister’s on the line.’
‘Your sister always was,’ Gloria choked out. ‘Since the deal was made. Don’t tell me you’d not figured it.’
‘But Rosa’s only human,’ Ajay protested. ‘Just a girl, for pity’s sakes!’
Gloria stared at him. ‘You don’t know.’
‘What?’
‘Shut up,’ Rosa hissed at Gloria. ‘Ajay, I’ll go to Rio. I’ll be with you. It’s okay.’
‘She’s hotwired, you silly shit,’ Gloria exclaimed, and tried to laugh. ‘My God, you really didn’t know!’
‘Shut up!’ Rosa sobbed.
‘Rosa?’ Ajay said, turning to her. ‘You know him, you said?’
Rosa nodded, dumb.
‘How?’
‘Met him on the pier,’ said Rosa.
Gloria laughed.
‘What did you do to her?’ Ajay demanded.
‘Ask the slut,’ Gloria said.
Ajay took out his gun again and pointed it at Gloria’s head. ‘I�
�ll blow your head off soon as take Rosa to be slabbed. She’s just a girl, no concern of yours or Rio’s. Back off now.’
‘Too late, I told Herazo all,’ said Gloria.
‘You told him? Told him what, for fuck’s sake?’
‘That you found yourself a Snow-made girl to ball.’ He grinned. ‘Or not.’
‘Shut up!’ Ajay demanded.
‘She’s been getting real overheated.’
Rosa groaned.
‘Tell him, you slut.’
She looked away.
Gloria leaned forward. ‘Tell him how you mind things. Tell him what you do when Gina takes you home.’
‘You’ve been spying on me!’
‘Someone has to,’ Gloria giggled. ‘Ajay’s such a silly boy, eyes in his arse. Go on, tell him!’
The gun went off.
Gloria’s stomach bloomed, colossal red, a flower shedding petals as it rose, bounced off the floors above and showered them in blood.
Ajay fell back and Rosa cowered, screaming, hands over her ears.
Ajay cuffed her. ‘Quiet!’ He turned to Gloria. The man was blown in two. The ground all about them was wet. Blood ran into his eyes. He wiped it away. A scrap of flesh had stuck to his gun’s read-out. Nauseated, he flicked it off. The gun’s magazine was nearly empty. What crazy malfunction—?
‘Rosa?’
Rosa’s face was buried between her knees. She would not look at him.
‘Rosa?’ said Ajay gently. ‘What is it? What did he do?’
‘I let him,’ she said, voice hollow. ‘I wanted it.’
‘What?’
‘Him.’
‘Rosa,’ said Ajay, appalled, ‘I mean the gun—’
‘Shoot me,’ she said.
He stared at her.
‘Shoot me,’ she said again. ‘It’s okay.’
He pointed the gun, his hands trembling.
‘Do it. I’ll be okay. Do it.’
He squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.
She looked away from him again.
‘You did it,’ he breathed. ‘You killed him.’
She said nothing.
He squeezed the trigger again. Nothing happened. Again.
Rosa shivered. ‘Stop it now,’ she said. ‘I don’t really know how I do it. I do it is all.’
Ajay put the gun on the ground. Rosa glanced up. The porch light came on, lighting their way back into the house.
‘You—?’
‘Yes.’
He struggled to take it all in. The life she’d made, Gloria’s sneering hints, her hot-headed powers—
