Hunters & Collectors

by M. Suddain

  ‘Gladys, what happened to you? Why in fuck’s house are you dressed like a maid?’

  ‘Ambush.’ That’s all she’d say. Had her feet up on the table. Those old combat boots she wears. She was leaning back, her chair balanced on two legs. There was someone else there, too. A form who stood nervously alert in the centre of the room. ‘Hello, Ms Zhivast.’

  ‘Hello, Mr Tamberlain.’

  ‘This is a pretty good story,’ said Gladys. She had her bandaged arm behind her infuriating head, while with the other hand she held the bound stack of pages I’d left on the table. ‘Pretty damn good, actually. The Zombie Inside. A little overwritten in places, but …’

  ‘I’m very sorry, Mr Tamberlain, I would have left, but we can’t penetrate the thresholds to apartments in either direction while the “Do Not Disturb” sign is on. And Ms Green wouldn’t turn it off for me.’

  ‘Gladys?’

  ‘Thought you’d want to say goodbye, or at least give her notes. On her writing, I mean.’ I was to be tortured over this. She almost never has this kind of leverage.

  ‘I’m so very, very sorry, Mr Tamberlain. I would have left, honestly. I should probably be leaving now.’

  ‘No, stay. John, fix your lady friend a drink.’

  ‘Might hit the old sack myself. Pretty exhausted.’

  ‘No, stay, Beast. John was going to make us all a round of Tomahawks. That’s what we do: I handle security, you handle business, and John makes the drinks.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what you were doing tonight. Handling security. Looking after my interests.’ Why was she mad at me? What had I done? I could see her journal on the table. ‘Who’s running this show anyway?’

  ‘You are, John. I’m just along for the ride. I’m the weird cousin your parents make you take on trips.’

  ‘I really should be going. Thanks so much for having me. You have a lovely apartment.’

  ‘No, come on, stay, let’s have a party. He has no bed, but I’m sure you can improvise.’

  ‘Gladys, please stop talking before I –’

  A firm knock at the door. No one moved. I saw the registrar give a little shoulder-sigh to the floor.

  ‘Massimo?’

  She gave a small shake of her luminous head. I went to answer the door.

  So angry, Colette. I mean, I’ve seen angry people. Believe me. But on that night anger seemed to radiate from our concierge’s pores. There were two porters standing behind him in the hall, both brandishing crowbars.

  ‘At last, some workers with appropriate tools to fix my bed!’

  ‘Tell me where she is.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know exactly who.’

  ‘She’s just in there. Please, come in.’ I flipped our ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign off. Shabazzniov swept past me and down the hall, ran aground in the living room. ‘Ms Zhivast. Well, isn’t this the very limit. Whenever I think we’ve plumbed the limits, you people show me that there are none. It’s insubordination all the way down.’

  ‘Mr Shabazzniov, I’m very sorry. Mr Tamberlain called me for assistance.’

  ‘For assistance? We’re at Stealth Five and he’s calling you for assistance.’

  So angry.

  ‘Well, it was only Stealth Four when I called her.’

  But I’d make him angrier if I could.

  ‘Are you aware, Ms Zhivast, of the severe consequences of consorting with a guest in his room?’

  ‘Of course I am, Mr Shabazzniov. There was no consorting.’

  ‘Certainly no consorting,’ said Gladys with a shit-gorging smirk, ‘no squiring or fraternising, either.’

  Shabazzniov turned on her: ‘Don’t you even dare speak.’

  The smirk vanished from her face. The two porters who’d accompanied him had pushed the trolley with my new bed in and were manoeuvring it down the hall towards my room, taking frequent glances at our little scene, whispering.

  ‘I will ask you plainly. Why were you out tonight, and where have you put all our fire extinguishers?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Been here all night.’

  ‘You are wearing a maid’s outfit.’

  ‘They’re my relaxing clothes.’

  ‘You have clearly been wounded.’

  ‘Paper cuts.’

  ‘Yes, why would my employee go out, Shabazzniov? You clearly told us to stay in here.’

  ‘I knew. I told them. I said it was a serious mistake to keep you here. You think just because you’ve put your spell on Doctor Rubin you can do what you like?’

  ‘I haven’t put a spell on anyone.’

  ‘He’s fallen for your act. It won’t last. I’ll still be here to pick up the pieces. That man is a saint. And if you hurt him, I’ll make you pay.’

  There was a long silence. Even Gladys looked like she didn’t really understand what was happening. The silence went on until I broke it. ‘Well, all right then!’

  Shabazzniov turned to take me in. ‘Are you aware, Mr Tamberlain, that you are not currently wearing trousers?’

  ‘I had to send them to be laundered. I had to send them to be laundered because my only other pair of trousers, which I sent out for pressing, have not come back, and my shoes, which were never mine to begin with, have vanished, as has my bed. This is all completely fucking outrageous. Still, it’s what I’ve come to expect from this establishment.’

  Shabazzniov sighed. ‘There are no circumstances in which a man should have to greet his concierge without trousers. And every man should have a bed. As you can see, the situation is being rectified.’ The two porters had managed to get the crate halfway through the doorway to my room. ‘I personally selected your new bed.’

  ‘You did not,’ the registrar whispered to the floor. ‘I chose his bed.’

  ‘Oh, I saw the one you chose, Ms Zhivast! Did you honestly think a bachelorette’s crib like that could comfortably support a man of his girth? Where are the secondary struts for stability? Where are the canopy stanchions?’ What the fuck was happening? The two porters were finding it impossible to manoeuvre their trolley through my bedroom door, and they’d stopped to have a deafeningly silent argument using arm gestures and mouthed curse words. ‘Now, you were explaining to me what a registrar could possibly have been doing in a guest’s room, nocturnally.’

  ‘She came to assist me with a small matter.’

  ‘A matter.’

  ‘Less a matter. More of a minor need.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure you have no minor needs, Mr Tamberlain.’

  ‘She came, we talked, and then she swooned.’

  ‘She swooned!’ He turned to fling his arms up at the two porters, who looked at each other.

  ‘She did, sir, she swooned,’ said Beast.

  ‘She swooned, so we gave her the sofa. Just until NAP time was over.’

  ‘Nap time? What is “nap time” when it’s at sea?’

  ‘Nocturnal Automated Patches,’ said Beast. ‘NAP time. 12.10.’

  Shabazzniov turned and stared at him for a long time. Beast shrank. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been told, Mr Daniels –’

  ‘It’s Daniel Woodbine.’

  ‘– but I can assure you, there’s not any such thing as NAP time.’

  ‘That’s just not true,’ the registrar whispered.

  ‘I’m sorry? You had something to say, Ms Zhivast?’ She said nothing, but from my vantage I could see her micro-roll her eyes.

  ‘I needed some notes typed up,’ I said, ‘but I’m without my type-machine. I called on Ms Zhivast to ask her if she wouldn’t mind typing them, since I know she’s an excellent typist.’

  ‘Of course! And you have these notes handy, I presume?’

  ‘Here they are.’ Gladys waved the sheaf of papers she still held in her hand. The smirking bitch let them fall upon the table.

  ‘And you wouldn’t mind reading a passage for me, Mr Tamberlain, just to verify Ms Zhivast’s story?’

  ‘Oh, allow me,’ said Gladys. ‘
It’d be my pleasure.’ She scooped up the sheaf, threw her bandaged arm back behind her head, cleared her throat for effect. Shabazzniov closed his eyes in concentration, put his steepled hands to his lips. ‘Notes on the Registrar, Ms Zhivast. I have watched this delicate beauty from afar, and I must admit I find her utterly fascinating, and ineffably compelling. A delicate creature who seems half made of flame, and half of flesh, with eyes the blue of melting ice. It’s a strange sensation to feel weak for a girl, let alone one so far below my station. It’s bizarre, considering how handsome, and successful, and charismatic I am – not to mention tall – that a girl of this kind, so lowly and anonymous – not to mention tiny and ginger – could make me feel this powerless. Also humble. Her gentle, sensuous beauty causes me to have sensations I have never felt, and in places which have long lain dormant. I thought that years of repression had left me numb below the waist, and incapable of experiencing any human feeling. And yet I feel her presence in the night, when I’m alone and naked in my bed.’ The porters with my bed stood frozen now, gaping. ‘I can almost smell her. How do I speak to this girl? And how do I be myself around her? This creature, this star, this … angel?’

  The smug bitch, content with her improvised dissertation, placed the sheaf gently on the table, squared it with the room, then reclined again, both hands behind her head. Her boots thumped on the wooden surface of the table. Otherwise the room was exceptionally quiet. The porters snapped shut their slack mouths and hurried back to work.

  ‘Well. Mr Tamberlain, I had no idea you were capable of such vulnerability.’

  ‘I’m as surprised as you.’

  I will kill you.

  Do your worst.

  ‘Ms Zhivast, you’re free to go, but for now you’re confined to your apartment. Are you listening?’

  ‘What? I’m very sorry.’

  ‘I said you’re confined to your apartment. I’ll review your case when I finish with these people. If I discover a deception you will be logged, your book endorsed, and dismissed.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’ The girl turned scarlet.

  ‘I’m sorry? Do you have something to say to me?’

  ‘There’s no need for this, I called her here. It’s my fault.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of what’s called for here, or by whom, Mr Tamberlain.’

  She was glaring at him now, a look of pure fury. ‘You can’t do this.’

  ‘I can, and I will. Feel free to make it worse.’

  ‘One of these days the people downstairs will decide they’ve had enough, Murial. Then you’ll see. Mr Tamberlain, will you show me out? I was never taught to use door handles.’

  ‘Of course.’ I walked the girl to the door.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Tamberlain. I’m sorry I lost my temper.’

  ‘Not at all. Think nothing of it.’

  ‘And don’t worry about me. I have a friend or two upstairs.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘And, Mr Tamberlain … about those things you wrote.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I’m very flattered, of course. But I’m not sure I can replicate feelings of that intensity.’

  ‘Yes. But you realise I didn’t actually write … Never mind. I appreciate your honesty. Do take care.’

  She left. The two porters came bustling out of my room, arms filled with bits of packing crate, bowed respectfully as they passed and vanished through the open door. I flicked the DNS sign on again. When I glanced into my room I found the strangest bed I’d ever seen. It was a huge, creaking, wrought-iron monster dressed in plump, frilled pillows and a matching cover: like something your scary aunt would sleep in. It was unfeasibly tall; there was a small iron ladder for climbing into it. It had a lavish wrought-iron canopy. Shabazzniov joined me. ‘I hope it’s to your liking.’

  ‘Huh? Yes, it looks very … sturdy.’

  ‘I must go and make a report to Management, then I will return. Mr Tamberlain, will you please release me?’

  ‘Hmmm? Oh, of course.’ I flipped the sign off, but he too wanted to detain me for a whispering session.

  ‘Mr Tamberlain, think sensibly here. Do you really want this all to be over because of Ms Green? Despite appearances I still think very highly of you. We can negotiate. Jettison your “extra luggage” and work with us before it’s too late. She’s gone mad. Did you know she’s trying to steal all our fire extinguishers?’

  ‘Word reached me.’

  ‘I don’t know what relationship you have with her, whether it’s strictly professional, or other, but if you still have any interest at all in having your meal in the Undersea, I would choose your allies carefully. This is your last chance. I will enquire after your trousers.’ He left.

  Madness. I went back in, primed to say some bad words to my extra luggage, but she headed me off: ‘Before you do your whole “thing”, John, you should know I got your contract.’

  ‘What? What do you mean, my contract?’

  ‘You seriously think I just went to get my stupid journal?’

  ‘No, I thought you went to get your stupid Hunter.’

  ‘What the fuck do you think I am, Jonathan?’

  ‘I don’t know, what the fuck do you think I am?’

  ‘Well, I think you’re both very nice. Let’s all have a drink, shall we?’

  ‘Where is the contract? Show it to me. We have to destroy it.’

  ‘Oh, you definitely don’t want to do that, Boss. Section 219/ix: TERMINATION AND FORFEITURE.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘It’s somewhere safe, John. We could destroy it, but it could be more useful as leverage.’

  ‘But if we destroy it we become invisible. We could just walk out of here.’

  ‘Yeah, you could try. If you destroy your contract you lose its protection. Like Beast said. It’d be open season. Not even that sign on the door could protect you. You want that? Anyway, maybe I don’t want to leave yet. Maybe I want to stay a while longer. Maybe I want to teach these fuckers not to fuck with me.’

  We’ve been here too long. I’ve no idea how many hours. Hours seem to pass like minutes. Gladys sits on a stool behind the bar, resting her chin on her knuckles so she looks like a decapitated head. God knows what’s going through that head. She won’t stop looking at me. At one point she came to the table with her hunting knife, took the seat in front of the butterfly window, and began to carve letters into the polished surface of the antique table, all while staring at me. Then she went and got her smoking kit from her silver case, rolled a rail. ‘G, did you bring drugs here?’ Didn’t answer me. Lit the rail with her silver lighter. Offered some to Beast, but none to me.

  I nodded off. A quick-burning, super-octane vision in which I was pursued through the halls by naked, achromatic giants with unicorn-like horns and shaggy white mop-head beards, before I was woken by the knock, firm and even. I opened the door. Our concierge was back. Now there were four porters with him carrying craft knives and rolls of plastic sheeting. If it’s possible, he was even angrier than before.

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Where is what?’ ‘You know exactly what. Please let us in.’

  ‘I don’t know that I want to … … OK, fine.’ I flipped off the sign. None of the porters looked particularly menacing. Shabazzniov strode through the room to take his seat at the far end of the dining table, placing his diary just to his right and extending two fists to rest evenly on the tabletop. ‘I’ll ask again. Where is it?’

  ‘We don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said G.

  His workers began to sheet the room and its fittings in plastic. They worked quickly, expertly.

  ‘You know very well what I’m talking about. You broke into the registrar’s office, and you stole something very valuable. I have come to ask for it back.’

  ‘Wasn’t us,’ said Gladys. The concierge looked at her, then let his gaze travel down to the word carved in the perfect surface. ‘CUNTS.’

  ‘You know this table once belonged to a p
rince.’

  ‘Put a finger on my tab,’ I said. ‘And send a kind note to the prince.’

  ‘I’m afraid we’re well beyond fingers. We have a code of conduct. This code was clearly outlined in the contract. Which you have stolen. There is no more serious breach of code. This is worse than Franz, worse than your excursions, worse than violating our Stealth Protocols. That contract underpins our entire operation. It …’ He sighed. With a bored expression he flipped open his diary and tapped an entry with his fingers.

  ‘It what?’

  ‘Hmmm? Oh, what’s the point in trying to explain our rules to you? You have no decency. You’re just like them. I have given my report to Management, made my recommendations. In a few minutes that phone will ring, and I will have my orders to terminate our arrangement.’

  His boys and girls already had an entire wall and a cabinet sheeted in plastic.

  ‘Is this really necessary?’

  ‘Shall I list your crimes again? Arriving early. Bringing unsanctioned guests. Killing a member of staff. Going on unsanctioned excursions. Stealing our … Ms Green, there’s no smoking in our rooms.’

  Gladys let out a lungful of smoke. Shrugged.

  ‘Is that narcotics? Are you smoking narcotics?’ She shrugged again. ‘Well, let’s add narcotics to the list, along with stealing our fire extinguishers. Breaking into our offices. Removing legal documents without permission. Engaging in intimate liaisons with female members of staff.’

  ‘I told you, I never touched Ms Zhivast.’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about you.’ He turned back to Gladys.

  ‘Gladys!’

  ‘So you can see I have more than enough reason to terminate our arrangement and initiate removal. This could possibly be the worst induction I have ever been a part of.’