by John Bowers
“You’re Marshal Walker?” she asked when their business was concluded.
“I am. And you are…?”
“Carrie King.” She shook hands. “Welcome to Trimmer Springs.”
“Thanks. Happy to be here.”
A sudden blast of sound erupted from the park, electronic music from one of the bands. It died quickly, but that blast rattled Nick’s teeth.
“Wow, that was pretty loud!”
“Oh, it gets louder.” Carrie King smiled. “You’ve never been to one of these?”
“No.”
“We have these a couple times a year. Three bands, one from Lucaston and the other two from Camarrell. It’s a coordinated concert.”
“What does that mean?”
“Three bands playing at once, same song, but each doing their own thing with it. If you stand between them it really blows your mind. It’s hexaural sound, nothing else like it in the universe.”
“Sounds like a blast.”
“You have no idea.”
Nick grinned. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Officer King. I better head back.”
She smiled and waved, and Nick headed back into the park.
Chapter 12
Nick found Suzanne fifteen minutes later, eating a sweet treat and surrounded by teenage girls. She seemed delighted by the attention, in particular the girls’ interest in Vegan fashions. Several of them seemed intoxicated by the perfume she was wearing and were clamoring to know where they could get some. Nick pulled her gently away and kissed her on the cheek.
“Looks like you’ve got quite a fan base,” he said.
She laughed. “It’s amazing! These girls have never seen Vegan fashions and they think it’s really cool. I can’t get away from them.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t try.”
“Well, it’s funny you say that. At least a dozen of them want me to open a shop on Main Street.”
“A shop?”
“A boutique. There’s no place in town where they can buy Vegan goods, and they’re just nuts about what I’m wearing. And this is just one outfit.”
“So, are you gonna do it?”
“I’m really thinking about it. I’ve never done anything like that, but it’s got to be easier than running a restaurant. I wouldn’t even need employees, unless I had to expand.”
“How much would that cost? Do you have the money?”
“I have several thousand sirios in savings. I need to transfer that money anyway, before the Confederacy decides to freeze it. It would take a few weeks to order stock and get it shipped here, and I could rent a storefront.”
“What would you call it? You probably want something exotic, like ‘Vegan World’, or ‘Sophia’s Secret’…”
“Why not just call it ‘Suzanne’s’?”
Nick thought about it a second, and nodded. “Simple, elegant, and feminine. Works for me.”
Suzanne laughed again and kissed him. “Then it’s settled! See how smart you are?”
Nick gave her a quick squeeze.
“Now what’s this ‘Mrs. Walker’ bullshit?” he said.
She turned innocent eyes on him. “I never said Mrs. Walker! The girls just assumed that.”
“You didn’t correct them.”
“What, and suggest to them that it’s okay for two unmarried people to live together in sin? What would their parents think?”
Nick stared at her a moment, then grinned.
“You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. Did you think I was serious?”
“I’m never sure about you. It’s that Vegan intensity.”
“You better get used to it. Being with you makes me feel young again.”
“You are young. You’re only thirty-four.”
“And you’re only twenty-eight. Just remember that when you were born, I was already old enough to change your diapers.”
“Aw, you didn’t have to say that! That was just wrong!”
“In fact, when we get home, I may just do that.”
“Do what?”
“Change your diaper.”
“I’m not wearing a diaper.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll just have to look and see.”
“You keep your hands to yourself.”
“Sure, you say that now! You’ll be begging me when we get home.”
Another blast of music hit them then, a reverberating barrage of sound that seemed to come from every direction at once. Nick looked around and saw anticipation in the eyes of the crowd. One music stage had been set up at the end of the park nearest the church, another at the opposite end. On the north side of the park was a third stage; the stages formed three sides of a box, all facing the center of the park. The bands had been warming up for several minutes, and the sky was as dark as it was going to get. Strobe lights sparkled in the trees and a sense of electricity filled the air.
“Good eveniiiiing, Trimmer Springs!” someone shouted. The voice came from the center of the park where a slick looking man in a white suit stood ready to kick things off. His words emitted from all directions through hidden outputs, like the voice of God.
The crowd roared in response, and he continued talking in a rapid-fire, master of ceremonies voice. He introduced the bands one by one, each drawing a tremendous cheer from the kids who followed modern music. He followed with a few words of thanks to the city fathers who had blessed the event, and finally admonished everyone to step away from the force field generators. That was a surprise to Nick, who had no idea that force fields were part of a music concert.
But a second later he heard a whine and saw the sky shimmer overhead. The park actually seemed to get darker, as if the twilight was being filtered, and then the music hit in earnest.
It was like nothing Nick had ever heard in his life. Not only was the music unfamiliar, but the sheer volume was without equal. It pounded him from every side, like standing on an ocean floor with the weight of the water compressing his body, a solid wave of sound so intense he could almost reach out and touch it. He could literally feel the decibels washing over him, yet—strangely—they didn’t hurt his ears. The beat was steady, driving, throbbing, almost a living thing. And it was so clear! He could hear every note, every riff, every drumbeat. It seemed to come from inside his head, from deep in his bones, even flowed with his blood. It was exotic, erotic, and seductive.
It kicked off with the roll of electric drums from the direction of the church, a tidal wave of sound that washed over him like a tsunami, followed seconds later by electric strings from the opposite end. The outputs balanced the music perfectly, blending it so that it seemed to be coming from everywhere, yet he could tell where each instrument was located.
After thirty seconds of pounding pleasure, the third stage joined in. More instruments opened up, and a slender girl with long hair and a filmy outfit began to sing, a hoarse, haunting voice that seemed to swirl around him like a mist, pervading his body, oozing out of his pores. She swayed as she sang, swayed and strutted in high-heeled boots. Nick couldn’t see her face because she was backlit, just a sexy silhouette that was more suggestive than the girl herself could possibly have ever been.
All around him, the crowd was in motion. Hundreds of kids danced, others just swayed and waved their arms, like religious devotees in the presence of their deity. Some closed their eyes as the music transported them, as if inhaling an intoxicating drug. And it was—intoxicating, soothing, liberating, exotic, erotic, every possible thing it could be, all things to everyone present.
Just when Nick thought it couldn’t get any better, it got better. The strobe lights in the trees went absolutely nuts, flashing like rapid-fire artillery, alternating night and day ten times a second; and the lasers…
From strategic locations throughout the park the lasers began to swing and dance, rotating, red and green and blue and yellow, brilliant beams of color that sprayed the overhead force field and bounced, shooting colored light in every direction
at once. Nick felt as if he were inside a bubble, washed in color, bathed in it, swimming in it. He half expected to taste it, yet it was just light, brilliant and explosive and stunning. He felt emotion welling up inside him from the combination of music and light, emotions of joy, excitement, physical pleasure, and anticipation. He felt almost out of control, manipulated, but he didn’t care—it was fantastic, thrilling, overpowering.
Sensory overload.
He felt arms around him, and looked to see Suzanne holding him tightly, swaying from side to side, a look of religious rapture in her eyes. She smiled at him, and he read her lips, because he couldn’t hear her voice.
“Dance with me,” her lips were saying.
He shook his head. “I can’t dance,” he tried to say, but she couldn’t hear him. In any case, her eyes were closed and she continued to sway like all those around her. Nick had little choice but to join her, and holding onto each other, they swayed together. That was really all it took; no real dancing was required. Like the hundreds around them, they just stood in one place and moved to the music. It was easy, and it was fun.
When the song ended—if it was a song; was it a song?—the bands segued seamlessly into the next one, a totally different aural experience, but no less thrilling. This time there were singers at each end of the park, male and female, and they blended perfectly while the third stage just pumped out music. At the end of each offering it was the same, just a smooth transition to the next piece, each distinct and unique, but with not a breath in between. The very ground vibrated under the decibels and people in the park were entranced. Somewhere in the middle of it all Nick realized he didn’t need to watch for trouble makers—in that sea of sound no one could even think, let alone cause a disturbance.
The sound continued for thirty minutes, then stopped abruptly. The lights died all at once and the crowd in the park staggered, as if the music had been holding them up and they suddenly had to find their balance again. For just a heartbeat there was silence, then a tremendous roar of applause filled the air, and people began breathing again. The air was filled with laughter and giddiness, and Nick blinked to get his mind working. Suzanne still held onto him, breathing hard to disperse her adrenaline. She looked up at him with sparkling eyes.
“Have you ever heard anything like that before?”
“No. I had no idea anything like this existed. I’m still in shock.”
“It isn’t over, is it? I hope not.”
“I don’t think so. Officer Dougherty said five or six hours. Probably they’ll take the force field down for a few minutes so people can go pee.”
That proved to be the case. The force field was down for ten minutes, then the M.C. again asked everyone to stand clear, and thirty seconds later it was back up. The music started again, different this time, stronger, louder, more pulse-pounding. Nick wondered if there was a limit to what the human body could endure, but if so, he hadn’t reached it yet. The music swirled around him like a cyclone, sucking him into a vortex of sound. This time he just went with it, held onto Suzanne, and enjoyed the moment.
For forty-five minutes they swooned in a haze of bliss, a state of total surrender. Each musical offering had something different—some induced tears, others joy, others excitement and even lust. It was almost like mind control, and maybe in a way it was, but it seemed harmless enough, just the harnessing of technology for physical sensation.
But when the music stopped again Nick felt wrung out. He clung to Suzanne for a moment, then let his breath out in a rush.
“I don’t think I can take much more of this,” he said. “It’s like an orgasm that lasts all day.”
Suzanne giggled, but she also looked flushed.
“I’m with you. Let’s skip the next round, at least.”
They made their way to the street, outside the force field generators, and stood there recuperating. Around them, the teenagers seemed flushed but unaffected, eagerly waiting for more.
“I’m not seventeen anymore,” Nick said. “I’m not sure I could take it even if I was.”
“What about me? I haven’t been seventeen for seventeen years. But this is amazing. Kristina would love this!”
“I’m sure they have these on Terra, too. You’ll have to write and tell her to go to one.”
They strolled the perimeter of the park, keeping outside the field generators, and minutes later the music started again. The force field sprang up and they felt the vibration from the bands, but the music was surprisingly quiet, no louder than a car player.
“Now I know why the force field,” Nick said. “Keeps the sound inside, instead of breaking windows all over town.”
“And for the lasers,” Suzanne added. “Those were amazing.”
Nick sighed with pleasure. Even from outside, the music was intoxicating, though it didn’t have the same pervasive effect as it did inside. For the moment he was content to experience it this way.
“What a day,” he said.
She leaned against him, holding his arm as they walked.
“I still can’t believe how it started,” she said. “Poor Hugh.”
Nick shook his head. It seemed like days since the shooting, instead of just a few hours. For just a moment he was seized with a feeling of guilt for enjoying this balmy evening and the music, when young Hugh lay on a slab somewhere a few blocks away.
“I’ve got to find the man who did this, Suzanne.”
“You will.”
“I dunno. The fingerprints and breath trace came up empty, and the witnesses couldn’t identify him.”
“You’ll get him, Nick. He’s going to try again; you know that, don’t you?”
Nick’s eyebrows shot up.
“That’s it,” he said. “I can set a trap for him.”
“Just make sure you get him before he gets you.”
Nick nodded. The idea of setting a trap for the killer was intriguing, and he was already running possibilities through his head.
His attention was suddenly diverted by girlish giggles. Only a handful of people were on the street, almost everyone else was inside the park. The giggles came from behind him, and he turned to look back.
“It’s him!” he heard a girl call out.
“I told you!” another declared.
The sound of running feet followed; Nick and Suzanne stopped walking and waited. Two teenage girls charged right up to them and stopped. As they approached, Nick thought one looked familiar, but in the dim twilight couldn’t be sure. When they reached him he was more than a little astonished. So, apparently, was Suzanne—she gripped his arm silently.
“Hi, Marshal! Remember me?”
Nick did. It seemed like a week since he’d seen her, but he’d met her that very morning. Only she was dressed differently—no 19th Century dress, no bonnet. She was wearing a short, very tight body hugger that outlined her youthful curves perfectly, and her thick auburn hair was brushed out into a gorgeous mane that fell halfway down her back. Nick stared at her in disbelief.
“Does your mother know where you are?” he demanded.
“Are you kidding!” Maggie the cult girl exclaimed. “If she did, she’d have me stoned!”
“Then you better get back home in a hurry. I’ve already been accused of killing your father; I don’t need any more trouble from your mom.”
“It’s okay, Marshal! Really! As soon as we’re married I’ll be safe.”
“Safe? Safe from what?”
“Stoning,” Maggie said, still giddy with excitement.
“Stoning? That was a joke, right?”
“Oh, no,” the second girl said. “They really will stone her if she gets caught.”
“Who are you?” Nick asked. He didn’t recognize the second girl.
“I’m Patsy Morehead. She’s Maggie Downing.”
“Yeah, I’ve met Maggie. Are you a—” He almost said “cult girl”, but caught himself just in time. “—member of her church?”
“No, I’m Maggie’s friend. We
live next door to each other.”
Nick looked at Maggie.
“What are you doing here? I figured your mother keeps you on a pretty tight leash.”
“I snuck out. They keep after me to find a husband, but all the men they want me to date are so boring!”
Nick glanced at Suzanne, who seemed as much at a loss as he was.
“What do you want with me?” he asked—then realized that was the wrong question, but it was too late.
“To marry you, of course. I told you that this morning!”
“You want to… Don’t you think I’m a little old for you?”
“You’re not that old. They’ve got me dating men who are forty!” Her eyes glittered, and she began to move unconsciously with the music from inside the park.
“Well, I’m sorry, Maggie, but I’m already taken.” He indicated Suzanne. “And she’s really hot.”
“It’s okay, Marshal. I told you, I’ll be your second wife. I don’t mind.”
“But I don’t need two wives.”
She smiled enticingly. “I’m still a vir-gin! How long has it been since you had one of those?”
Nick’s eyes widened at her boldness. This girl was clearly out of control.
“You know, I much prefer women with experience. Like Suzanne here.”
“That’s okay! She can teach me. I’ll be there for you when she’s too tired...” She turned her direct gaze on Suzanne. “…or too old.”
Suzanne’s mouth fell open; she laughed in consternation.
“Maybe I don’t want the competition!” she told the girl.
But Maggie was unfazed. “I think it’s the marshal’s decision, don’t you?”
“You might not like being second wife,” Nick told her. “Being second wife means you get stuck with all the dirty jobs Suzanne doesn’t like.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Like polishing my teeth.”
“What?”
“Every night when I go to bed I take them out and Suzanne has to polish them. She really hates that, especially digging in the cracks to get all the rotten meat that gets stuck in there.”
Maggie’s smile faded a little, down to a grin, but her eyes still sparkled.
