by Adam Steel
“Get out of here. Go home,” they rattled.
He started to walk towards the staircase that led up to the penthouse. The stairs wound upwards and around the side of the helipad. They ended at two, large double doors. A single camera was mounted above them. It was built into the structure. It glared at him with its cyclopean eye as he began to ascend. He did not dare look over the edge. There was no barrier and nothing to stop him falling. On one side of him, was a sheer drop right down into Diamond Square. He bit his lip and forced his feet forwards, one after another. Almost there, he thought. Only a few more steps to go.
The wind buffeted him and for a terrifying moment he lost his balance among the assailing wind. He fell sideways towards the gaping chasm. He instinctively spread his arms out in front of him, even though there was nothing to catch him. He believed that there was nothing to stop him from plummeting down the edge of the building. Empty space yawned in front of him. He could see the lights of the plaza far below. He could also see the mason’s key symbol in the tiles. They glowed with a green fire against the Obelisk that commemorated the Day of Reckoning. From where he was standing, it looked to him like a needle sticking up from a patchwork quilt of light.
He opened his mouth to scream as his feet left the stairs. He slammed into something solid. A pattern of multi-coloured hexagons blurred his vision when he touched the invisible surface. He sat shivering in a heap against the invisible force-field, that ran up the side of the stairs. He felt like crying. He felt forward with his fingers. As they touched the barrier, patterns of light shimmered across them. They were like the patterns of light in soapy water. He inched forwards, crawling on his hands and knees up the last few stairs to the metal doors. He did not dare stand up again. He prostrated himself before the door, as if he were kneeling before a God.
The Cyclops eye stared down at him. He saw a brief flicker of light from the device, before the double doors slid open to admit him. He rose to his feet and entered the doors. When he was inside, the doors closed instantly behind him and he appeared to be between two sets of doors. The ones behind were metal like the doors on a bank vault, but the ones in front of him were very different. They were made from wood, and arched in a Gothic style. They did not appear to have any kind of handle to open them.
He put his hand flat on the warm wood. The door moved. It began to swing slowly back. He wasn’t sure what to do. He could not go back, and no one appeared to be operating the doors. He guessed that this was the main entrance to Royale’s private penthouse suite. Royale’s suite covered the entire top floor of the Fin-Sen building. It was enormous. He reassured himself mentally you were told to come here, invited - right?
He peered inside and took a few steps forward. It was quite dark inside. The first thing that he became aware of was the smell of warm water and scented oils. He could feel the moisture in the air. He became aware of the sound of trickling water. He was feeling disorientated by the short flight and the effects of the Yochi and he was regretting drinking the last glass.
As he walked further into the expanse of Royale’s suite, he became aware of the gentle sound of music. It seemed to be coming from the same direction as the smell and sound of water. As he walked towards the music, he could see strange lights shimmering across the walls. The walls and ceilings seemed to be moving and changing. He stood transfixed to the spot and watched as the interior of her suite began to transform itself around him. It seemed to be alive.
He looked up at the ceilings. They appeared to be higher than was possible for the size of the floors of the Fin-Sen building. Fantastic paintings began to appear upon them. They were scenes from the Byzantine Era. Beautiful women and men were depicted in astonishing colour and costume of a time, centuries past. The walls shimmered and began to form into the columns of a Roman Palace. Folds of turquoise fabric hung down from between the marvellous columns. He looked down at his feet. The floor began to change into the wonderful patterns of Roman bath tiles. They had scenes of horses and chariots racing across them. A path led from where he was standing, to what appeared to be a huge sunken Roman bath. He walked along the path, following the sound of water until he was standing near the edge of the bath.
The walls of the sunken bath were painted with hundreds of Byzantine men and women. They were naked. It was an intensely erotic scene. The bodies of the naked women seemed to move as though they were alive.
He looked down at the water in the sunken bath. It was incredible, like nothing he had ever seen before. It changed colour every few seconds: swirling from vibrant blues to reds. It was as though someone had captured a rainbow and held it under the water.
He was standing in Royale’s holographic, Byzantine Palace. He was mesmerised by its beauty, even though he knew that it was just an illusion.
Then he saw her.
His jaw dropped.
Royale was standing by the side of rainbow water. She was wearing a costume that looked as though it had been painted on her skin. It shone with the same mesmerising colours that the water held. It seemed to move in tune with her sensual body. Tiny threads of the material wrapped itself over her intimate parts, leaving most of her bare and stunning body exposed. She had the figure of a Goddess. Her hair was styled partly up. Locks of red curls licked at her bare shoulders. She was wearing black lipstick and her face was painted in Gothic fashion. Her eyes burned with a green fury. Her masons key dangled around her neck on a silver chain.
She was holding a crystal glass full of red wine. Her long black nails curled themselves around the wide glass.
He was thinking that she looked a lot like a vampire.
Fuck, he thought.
He was very aware that Royale wasn’t a person to be denied anything. When she ordered something, she expected to get it. She always got her own way and now she had ordered him. His hands were shaking, but it had less to do with the amount of Yoichi he had drunk, and a lot more to do with what she was wearing, or rather not wearing. He was thinking that there was not be a man in Utopia who wouldn’t have envied him at this moment.
She had a dynamite body, and her sexual ambience was electric. Her reputation for dissolving men was known, but never discussed openly. She had left a trail of male devastation in her wake.
His eyes roamed over her sensual body, and he could see why. His mind raced with confusion. The strange glowing material that adorned her body, accentuated her full breasts and tiny waist. She was not wearing anything on her feet. She walked towards him, one foot after another. Her footfalls were graceful and perfectly timed. As she walked, her footprints were left as reflections of colour on the tiled floor.
He stood in the shadows transfixed, as she approached him.
The colour in the water changed as she left its side. It turned deep green and swirled like an eddy. Her costume changed to jet black.
She sipped her wine, and began to circle him. He was thinking that she reminded him of a black panther: stalking its prey: him. His heart was thudding with excitement and fear. It was a lethal cocktail of feelings. He went to open his mouth to say something, but she put her finger on his lips. He could feel the sharpness of her painted nail. She shook her head slowly from side to side to indicate that he say nothing. She was standing right in front of him.
He looked down at her costume and trembled. It pulsed with an emerald green light that seemed to flow from her breasts, down to her groin. She was so close that he could smell her delicious body. He tried not to look into her green eyes, because he imagined that her eyes were like that of the Hydra. They seemed to shine with a fire. He worried that if he dared to look into them, he would be turned to stone. He was thinking that she was an irresistible creature: a sexual bomb of delight.
‘I have a proposition for you,’ she cooed.
He hesitated and then gingerly replied.
‘A pr-proposition?’ he stuttered.
He wanted to kick himself, because the words came out as a wimp like stutter and he felt instantly inferior.
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‘Yes. A proposition,’ she said, and half-smiled.
What the hell! What is this? he thought.
She leaned into him and he could smell her perfume. It was divine a cocktail of chemicals and sexual hormones. He could feel the heat of her body. She seemed to be enjoying every moment of his discomfort. She teased the glass of wine with her deadly lips, running her tongue along the rim to taste the liquid. He could feel his insides melting.
‘What…what can I do for you? - er…Mason Royale,’ he asked.
His words were coming out all wrong. It sounded to him as though someone else had hijacked his voice. He hated the way that his brain had become disconnected from his stiffening manhood. The stimulation of fear and sexual desire was so explosive, that he almost ran. He had never experienced that exact feeling in his life. It was intensely erotic.
‘Well now – there’s the question, Jon. What can you do for me? Firstly, you can call me Hester,’ she teased.
He only heard her say his name: “Jon.” He felt like he had been stabbed by a word.
‘I have been thinking - Jon. Katcher’s just not up to the mark anymore. What he’s done is unfortunate. He’s in an unfortunate situation right now. I think it’s about time he retired. Whereas your work is exemplary. You’re very well respected. How do you feel about the proposition of taking his place?’ she coaxed.
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Katcher. The bastard. Her lover – correction ex-lover, he thought. The idea of Katcher being ex – anything, gave him a great deal of pleasure.
She looked him straight in the eyes, and she had him. He felt like he had been frozen in stone. He heard it, but he did not believe it. Me. A Mason. Mason Li.
Royale twisted her long, red hair, around one of her claws, and purred at him. Her lips brushed his cheek very lightly. He felt a spark of electric run through his body.
‘I can get it for you Jon…if you give me what I need in return. You know what I need don’t you, Jon?’ she said, and turned her back on him.
He knew exactly what she wanted from him.
She started to walk back slowly towards the steps that led down into the sunken bath. The light in her illusionary Palace was dim, but he could see that the walls surrounding the bath, were beginning to change.
‘Join me,’ she summoned.
He watched her take the first step into the swirling water. As soon as her foot touched it the colour rippled out from her. It changed from dark green to deep red. He started to undress as he watched her slowly descend the steps into the sunken pool of red water. The scenes of erotic men and women on the walls began to dissipate until there was nothing but a waving pattern of reds and oranges. The only woman that he could see was her. As she stepped further into the pool the water lapped around her legs. The colour on the costume that she was wearing began to pulsate in oranges and reds. She looked as though her body was on fire with sex.
He dropped the last of his clothes on the floor and followed her into the sunken pool of forbidden pleasure. Her costume began to dissolve in the water as she immersed herself up to her waist in the warm waters. Tiny pieces of illuminated Synth-Skin floated off her body. They were like a thousand fluorescent jelly fish, swimming on the top layer of the water. The pulsating lights surrounded her naked body. With each movement they slipped away from her sensual body into the water.
He reached her, where she was standing, waist deep, in the middle of the pool. He put his wet hands upon her shoulders and more, tiny pieces of light slipped into the water to join their fluorescent cousins. He turned her around to face him.
She looked at him in a way that he had never imagined a human being could look at another. He pulled her to him and felt her hard nipples against his chest. The tiny pieces of pulsating lights, transferred themselves from her skin to his and, when they stuck to him, they burst into the colour of flames.
She held her mouth close to his and closed her eyes: waiting. He kissed her lips, gently. She pulled him in closer: holding his lips with hers.
He could taste something strange on her black lipstick. What she was wearing was the latest invention by the CUB especially engineered for her. It was a chemical concoction, integrated into her lipstick, which acted as a powerful and instant aphrodisiac, from which there was no escape. He did not know what hit him when he kissed her. All he knew was that he had to have her.
‘About my proposition?’ she whispered seductively in his ear.
Royale’s venom flowed into him setting fire to his senses. His mind teetered on the brink, tipping him over with desire, but somehow, in the depths of his mind, he had questions that needed to be answered before he finished what he had started.
‘What about Katcher? He’s a Mason. He’s not going to give up his position for me. I don’t understand how you could do that!’ he whispered.
‘You leave that part to me, Jon. All you have to do is say yes to me Jon. Be my Mason partner. Together we can do anything we want in Utopia.’
She put her hand on his firm buttocks and pulled him closer to her. He could feel her long nails digging into his buttocks and they conjured up the image of a panthers claws about to inflict serious damage on him.
The water in the pool swirled around, engulfing them in what looked like tiny sparks of fire.
He ached so much for her he would have agreed to jump off the top of the Fin-Sen building if she had asked it of him at that moment.
She kissed him hard. Her tongue teased inside his mouth. He held her hot body close to his. He felt her key press into his chest. It caused a mild stab of pain. His desire flooded wildly through his veins.
When her lips released him, she said in a husky voice, ‘You could have it all Jon. What is your answer?’
She waited in that moment of sexual tension for the words that she had waited a long time to hear.
‘I want you,’ he whispered into her neck.
She held him for a further split second, still waiting for the right answer. He knew what he had to say.
‘I want it,’ he confirmed.
Her body released itself from its self-imposed prison and she wrapped her legs around his waist, taking him into her body with one movement.
He was lost in Royale’s grip.
Chapter 33: Taking Chances
Sector Eight
Night Time: Wednesday 24th July
Chuck’s stolen truck, bounced along the uneven terrain, as it drew closer to Coney City. The oversized engine grunted in protest, as its operator drove it ever onwards, towards the sparkling metropolis.
Aya sat behind the wheel. She was struggling to operate the dated vehicle. Her expression was grim. It had taken her hours to get to grips with the diesel-driven vehicle, she had never driven one before. She had managed to stall it numerous times, before deciding to drive it in third gear. She hadn’t been able to understand half of the dials on the dashboard. The pedals had been far too large for her petite feet and the wheel had been ungainly and hard for her to operate. She had almost hit several trees, while negotiating her way out of the forest where they had spent the night. Beside her, on the passenger’s seat, her bag lay open. Inside it, Jacks gun lay: waiting. She glanced down at it briefly, before returning her eyes to the makeshift road and the scene ahead.
Coney City filled the horizon. It twinkled in the darkness lighting the sky like a Christmas tree. She could make out the tiny moving strips of light that were coming from the raised monorail, which ran across Sectors Five and Six. Her eyes narrowed into slits. The greenish tint in them was slowly fading. She thought that the city looked so beautiful yet so dangerous.
The radio had come to life as she approached the city. It was playing the latest hit by Richie Red – “Baby, You gotta do it.”
She clumsily shifted the gear-stick into fourth – slamming the truck forward faster. A grim determination was etched across her features. Max was lying outstretched, under a filthy blanket in the back of the truck. He was delirious. His breath cam
e in ragged gasps. The weapons in his rucksack clattered about around him, as the truck bounced onwards.
When she had awoken in the morning, Max had been no better. He had actually looked much worse to her. She hadn’t been able to get any sense out of him. Sweat had plastered his forehead and he had called her ‘Sandy’ several times before slipping in and out of consciousness. The strange, silver substance that he had had her use on his shoulder had stopped the bleeding. But it had become obvious to her that infection had spread insidiously out from the wound. He had eventually stopped responding to her desperate shakes altogether. He had seemed lost in some far-away battle in his mind.
She had sat alone in the clearing and cried for almost an hour. Beside her, he had been mumbling to an imaginary person called Snowy. He had said something about “getting into cover” and “keeping their (bloody) heads down.”
There was nobody to help and nowhere to go. Well, almost nowhere, she thought, grimacing and over-revving the engine. Coney City raced towards them from outside of the window-screen. Her mind was full of the fear that Max was going to die. She told herself that if he died there would be nothing else left for her. She decided that she no longer had anything to lose.
She thought back to her most desperate moments back in the clearing. She imagined that she could have curled up and died right alongside him back there. She had almost caved in. Her world became a swirl of faces, Aarif, Mada, Hawkins, Commander Betts, Jack. She thought of all the things that she had done for Max and decided that they had come too far to give up. She was resolute. She was not ready to lie down and die, not just yet. She was thinking that there was still one chance. It was remote, but it hardly mattered to her any longer. She felt that nothing would have been worse, than lying next to him, back in the clearing, and waiting for him to die.
She was going to Plastic Paradise.
