Pornopsychedelica

by Chris Johnson

  Teja was down there at the bottom of the circling ramp, still reclined on the chair. Tomoko went down, saw Kiyoshi sat next to her. Teja's top had been unfastened and pulled up, her pants open to her panties, her breast and nipple exposed where her bra had been pulled down. Tomoko touched Teja's arm, saw her mouth open slightly when she took a breath. She gave Teja a shake and she still didn't wake up. Kiyoshi was wearing a VR helmet, a cable running to a cybernetic port behind his ear. He was breathing fast.

  Tomoko moved the gun to her other hand so she could work the mouse at the console, found the VR program. A monitor came to life behind her. She'd seen these before, cybernetic uplinks, although the picture quality was never as good as the one Kiyoshi had. Usually you got a representation of what the jacked-in minds were doing, like a TV with poor reception, the computer trying its best to work out what was going on. Tomoko felt her fist tighten around the gun. Sure he'd want to have sex with her, get her bent over his desk, imagine himself standing up. She coiled the cable around her finger and tugged.

  Kiyoshi unfastened the helmet. 'Goddamn it. What the fuck? Tomoko.'

  She sat on the stool next to him. 'You say my name, Kiyoshi, like you're surprised to see me.'

  He swallowed, said, 'I wasn't expecting you back so soon.'

  'Did I catch you in the middle of something?'

  He tried smiling, couldn't quite do it. 'It's not what it looks like.'

  'It's just pretend, right?'

  'Yeah.'

  'I wouldn't think you’d sweat.'

  'What? What are you talking about?'

  'You sold me out to Peter. Did he say you could keep Teja for your troubles?'

  'Tomoko, please, I wouldn't . . . why would I do that? Let's be cool about this.' He was adjusting himself in the chair. 'You need me.'

  'I don't need you, you fat fuck.'

  He put the VR helmet on the console. 'I had to jack-in to check on the procedure.'

  'Was it successful?'

  'Absolutely.'

  Teja stirred. She opened her eyes, ran her hands over her body as if to check if she was dressed or naked.

  'I saw you on the monitor,' Tomoko whispered to him.

  Teja sat up, snapped away the probes stuck to her skin. Tomoko moved over to her, pulled off the probes stuck to her head, held her for a moment.

  'You said we could trust him,' said Teja.

  Tomoko said, 'I thought we could.'

  'What happened?'

  'I don't know.'

  Tomoko kicked the wheel on Kiyoshi's chair. 'Was Peter here?'

  He was snivelling like a kid. 'Peter wasn't here. It was Ichiro. He works for Yamaguchi.'

  Tomoko flung the VR helmet across the room. She watched Teja touching her face, moving her fingers through her hair. 'How do you feel? Was it successful?'

  'I'm not sure.' Teja touched a control and the chair returned to its upright position. She stood up and adjusted her clothes, fastening buttons. When she'd finished, Teja slipped her hands around Tomoko's waist and pulled her hips close to her own, her lips against Tomoko's, tongue curling into her mouth.

  She reached down Tomoko's arm and took the gun from her, turned to face Kiyoshi. She put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. His cheeks puffed up for a second, smoke and blood shooting out of his nose. He slumped forward in the chair.

  'The procedure to remove the inhibitors was successful,' said Teja.

  Tomoko took the gun from her. 'I was about to ask him where Peter and Kameko were.'

  'Let's go,' said Teja. She pulled Kiyoshi's body out of the chair and started to wheel it up the ramp.

  In the elevator, Teja had her hands on Tomoko's body, touching her in places she'd been reluctant to venture before. Tomoko wondered if she should tell her now about Fernandez. It didn't seem like the right time.

  When they got outside, Teja rolled the wheelchair down a flight of basement steps, watched it bounce. 'Where are Martin and Jessica?'

  Tomoko looked up and down the street, thinking that Ichiro's boys might be hanging somewhere. 'Let's find somewhere to get something to eat, then we can talk.'

  'You got your hair chopped.'

  'I needed a new style,' said Tomoko.

  'I could do with something new. This doesn't feel right.'

  'We have to get away from here. Ichiro might show. He's probably on his way.'

  A thirty-minute walk, cutting through a mall and a subway, should have taken them far away enough from Kiyoshi's. Mixed in with the crowds so they'd be hard to spot. They found a busy market street, taking shelter from the rain under a food stand's canopy, eating ramen and rice from plastic bowls. They had dumplings too on the counter.

  'How do you feel?' Tomoko had her bowl raised to her mouth, using her chopsticks to shovel rice into her mouth like she hadn't eaten for a month.

  Teja said, 'About what?'

  'Oh, I don't know. Maybe something about putting a gun in Kiyoshi's mouth and blowing a hole through his head.'

  'Well he put his cock in my mouth so it seems only fair I reciprocated.'

  'By killing him?'

  'What would you have done?'

  'The same.' Tomoko paused to take a drink from a bottle of water. The street was busy, cars passing constantly, horns beeping now and then. People moved quickly past the food stalls, huddled under umbrellas.

  Tomoko shuffled her stool forward, feeling rain dripping from the food stall's canopy and landing on the back of her neck. 'I think Kameko is having an affair with one of Peter's men.'

  'What makes you say that?'

  'Jefferson was getting way too tactile with his boss's wife.'

  'You've seen Kameko again?'

  Tomoko knew she couldn't hold back any longer, trying different ways of telling Teja the same thing. Teja always said exactly what she meant and Tomoko realised just saying the exact truth would be easiest. 'I was picked up by some of Ichiro's gang when I left the old house. Martin and Jessica are dead.'

  Tomoko wasn't sure how Teja would react, watching her expression change to one of shock and confusion. She asked her to repeat what she'd said, then denied it and said it was impossible.

  'They were taken when you were unconscious,' said Tomoko. She continued eating, picking up strips of protein meat that did their best to look like beef. She knew Teja would see she was faking that everything was fine, that they should accept it.

  Teja asked, 'How do you know?'

  'Fernandez showed me.'

  Tomoko rubbed one of the derma-patches on her thigh, trying to ease the irritation of the nanobots repairing tissue and skin.

  'What did he do to you?' said Teja.

  Tomoko tried not to think about what Fernandez had done to Martin and Jessica. 'He's a sick fuck. I was lucky.'

  'Why was I left behind? How did you get away?'

  'You were obviously payment for Kiyoshi. Willard was there.' A guy on a bicycle went past, rain spraying up from the wheels, shouting for people to get out of his way. 'He got me out of there.'

  'I liked Jessica. How does this change our plans?'

  'Completely. We needed four people to complete the seats attached to Fernandez.'

  'Martin talked about going to Thailand,' said Teja.

  'We're not running.'

  'Stay and do what? Even I'm struggling to see what options we have.'

  Tomoko motioned for the old man behind the stall that she wanted more rice. 'We can rescue something out of whatever deal Peter struck with Yamaguchi. Deals for property, territory, drugs, or even Off World smuggling will always involve a large cash payment. A sort of goodwill gratuity. The bigger the donation, the bigger the respect.' The old man took Tomoko's bowl and spooned in more rice, passed it back to her. 'I know how the yakuza works, makes no difference if they operate from a luxury office or the back room in a bar.'

  'Yamaguchi will pay Peter in cash?'

  'The bulk of any money would have been bank transferred, but a smaller, physical amount is always cash. It's trad
itional.'

  Teja glanced up at the grey sky when a rumble of thunder shook the street. 'Take Yamaguchi's money?'

  'Take Peter's money. We need to stay away from Yamaguchi. We'll take it once Peter has it.'

  'You've got a plan?'

  'Fuck no. We've got enough money for day-to-day living, but not enough for a place to hide and a few luxuries. My friends are in short supply. I'm not even sure how far I can trust Jiro.'

  Teja wiped her mouth on a napkin, showing her perfect teeth for a second. 'Where do we start?'

  'I still need Jiro's help, even if that means not selling us out. He won't do anything until we kill Ichiro.'

  Teja reached for her water. 'So let's go get him.'

  42

  Pig Farm Whores

  They took an autocab across town, to the docks where Jiro had said Ichiro had a nightclub. It's where he spends most of time, Jiro had said.

  Tomoko felt Teja's fingers intertwine with her own, thinking about when they could be alone. The cab pushed close to the sidewalk, crowds pressing to the windows. An angel holograph spread its wings into the cab and illuminated Teja's face. Tomoko felt the derma-patches working, making her skin tingle. She had to force herself not to scratch.

  Teja said, 'They're prepping the shuttle to leave early.'

  She was watching the autocab's TV, a news channel showing old footage of the ship, clips of the same interviews that had been running all week. The crowds were getting bigger, the riots more frequent. The shot of army vehicles speeding past the camera had been shown every day, the same night time shot of the shuttle with searchlights panning across it, then stock footage of The Pioneer IV, the giant ship waiting in orbit. Teja showed Tomoko a picture of Ichiro's club on her phone, swiped through a dozen photographs. Tomoko nodded and told the cab to make a stop off.

  They moved quickly from the cab, pushing through the people on the street, most wearing surgical masks, others with scarves or makeshift disguises. They had baseball bats and pry bars, guns and swords. A woman waved a table leg. Tomoko ran into one store and Teja another, meeting back at the cab. Then they were pushing on, through dark streets where people walked in groups with lanterns and flares, some running from burning cars.

  They left the cab at the edge of the docks, adding three hours to the clock so it would wait. The place was quiet, apart from barges groaning against moorings, the rattle of chains. Tall structures stood dead against the dark sky, reminding Tomoko of a panel in a manga book, as if the artist had used only black and grey and made everything out of different-sized blocks.

  They walked close to the containers until they could see people in the distance. Tomoko was thinking how unprepared they were, no body armour, minimal weaponry. She wasn't sure about Teja before, but now she'd acquired a street-smart attitude and a sassy confidence. She was already taking off her clothes and changing into the ones they'd bought earlier, a black leather corset threaded with a white ribbon in the front, which she pulled tight and finished with a bow. Then a frilly neon-pink skirt that went halfway from her ass to her knees.

  Tomoko said, 'What about your gun? Where –'

  Teja reached into the bag and pulled out a purse with a strap. Tomoko changed into similar clothes, turning the shopping bag upside down and picking up the gym shoes that fell out. She passed a pair to Teja.

  Teja peered out from behind the crane they were hiding behind. 'Are we ready?'

  'You don't look anywhere near slutty enough yet.' She spilled the smaller bag onto the floor, feeling around in the dark for a lipstick. 'Like the girls in the pictures.'

  They used the torches and the cameras on their phones to apply the make-up, bright eye shadow, unnatural colour to the cheeks, black lipstick. Tomoko quickly gathered up their clothes and the make-up, stuffing them into one of the bags and tossing it under the crane. She took Teja's hand when they walked out.

  'We've been here a hundred times. We're not nervous. We're party girls here to dance and get wasted.'

  As they got closer they could see more people, hear the rumble of bikes and the crackle of fireworks. There was a large industrial automech, maybe used at one time to move cargo around the docks. Now it was doing a shuffling dance, bosoku gang signs painted across its chest, car doors welded onto its back to look like wings. Tomoko felt the comfortable weight of the Glock in the purse over her shoulder.

  A skinny guy danced between them, barely aware of Teja until she shoved him out of the way. He just got to his feet and started dancing again, hands above his head like he was pulling something down from the sky.

  More people now, rag-tag clothes, some in long coats, others wearing tank tops. A man in a business suit, a girl in a party dress. Some were already taking an interest in them. A scruffy guy came over. He was about to give them his line when they walked past him, following other people into the mouth of a container.

  It was dark inside, but the men and women around them just kept walking, footsteps clanking on the metal floor. Tomoko realised they'd cut a hole in the back of the container and they'd walked through into a second, then a third, chopped and welded together to form a tunnel. They were going down, dim lights strung across the ceiling, half-dozen steps all different sizes, making it difficult to walk. They turned a corner, followed another tunnel, the same corrugated walls and the silver welding seams. They could feel the music through the soles of their feet.

  The music was deafening now, a wailing screech of guitars, pounding drums, and a song screamed into a mic. The room at the end was cavernous, four containers high, cut open and welded, heavy girders holding it all together. Gangways crossed overhead, suspended spots flashing and spinning. Tomoko wanted to hold back a little, get familiar with the place, but Teja was pulling on her hand, leading her through the crowds pressing in, closing them off from the tunnel behind them.

  The band on the stage brought a song to a distorted crescendo. The clubbers cheered and clapped. The metal walls and ceiling were black, with folds and recesses in the corrugated walls, darker places for couples or groups to be alone.

  The band started up again, a throbbing guitar riff that lasted a few seconds before the other members kicked in, creating a head-beating wall of amplified sound. It was the squealing punk clamour of Pig Farm Whores, slamming out another song that sounded no different to the last. Rodney Becket screamed a drug-infused rant into a mic, just like she'd seen him do on TV, when they were showing clips during his trial for killing a hooker. Tomoko imagined he'd be taller, but on stage he was this little skinny guy, skeleton arms covered in tattoos.

  They pushed deeper into the club, men turning to look at them. A girl put her hand under her skirt and squeezed her ass. They were all moving to the music, a lazy twitching of hips and arms.

  They moved up a slight incline, eventually looking down on the rest of the club. Tomoko could see better now, the long bar with its blue lights, holographic couples dancing and fucking. More holographs generated on the bar, a chainsaw tearing through a guy's skull, a holographic girl getting raped by a werewolf, a giant teddy bear wearing a gas mask. The strobes shimmered from blue to yellow, sweeping across the band and the dancers, black leather and latex. It wasn't easy to get a fix, every time the strobes swept back she saw something different.

  They entered the dance floor and Tomoko pulled Teja close and put her hands on her hips, felt Teja's hands on her thighs. Teja was using her tongue a lot now when they kissed, her eyes always open, like she wanted to see Tomoko's reaction. She felt Teja take hold of her hand, sliding her tongue over hers, guiding her between her legs, underneath Teja's panties and pressing her fingers to the wetness of her pussy. Tomoko moved her fingers against her, felt the delicate folds of her body, the wetness within.

  Pig Farm Whores finished another song, drummer smashing hi-hats with his sticks. Rodney Becket pranced up and down the stage. When the lights came up, Tomoko could see a tunnel next to the bar, exactly as Jiro had described it. Two men were sat there sat on boxes.

>   Tomoko put her mouth close to Teja's ear. 'There's the entrance to Ichiro's back rooms. We'll walk down and let them see us. All you have to do is keep smiling. I'll go to the bar, you go to those guys and tell them if they buy us a drink they'll get a blowjob.'

  'I'm not sure that will work. If you look around you don't see–'

  Tomoko pinched her arm. 'Fuck, you sound like a sim again talking about replacing the ink in a copier. You're a slutty fuck bitch that wants a rum and coke.'

  Tomoko took her hand and they walked down to the bar. They had tables here, made from whatever had been left behind when the docks had closed, cable drums and wooden pallets discarded when there was nothing left to export to a half-dead world. Tomoko went to the bar and watched Teja walk over to the two men. They had a giant TV here showing clips from old horror movies, intercut with hardcore porn and footage of real death. Adult anime appeared, demons raping teen girls with fantasy bodies, tiny waists and huge tits. The men were standing now, hands all over Teja's body. One them looked over at Tomoko and she gave him a wave, sticking her tongue out and pointing to the bar. He spoke to his friend, then he came over.

  He shouldered a guy out of his way, said, 'Fucking move. I got business here. Hey, baby.'

  He spoke Japanese in a weird accent, like a man who'd had a stroke or had his brain fried by too many drugs.

  'Hey.' She touched his face, hugging him and feeling the hardness of a gun under his jacket. 'I need a drink for my girlfriend.'

  'What about you?'

  'I want a drink too.'

  'Damn, you are hot. I'll pay you anything if you go back to my place.'

  'You can't afford me.'

  'Don't you worry about that. I've got everything at my place, booze, drugs. I've even got that American ice cream you can't buy any more.'

  More anime on the monitors, battling robots, hoodlums on motorbikes, a six-armed demon tearing apart a schoolgirl's sailor uniform. Pig Farm Whores ripped into another track and the lights started pulsing, blackness then coloured flares. She turned to the bar to order the drinks, giving her an excuse to move away from the man, his fingers hovering over the swell of her breasts pushed up in the corset. Right in front of her was a space between all the spirit bottles, making room for a girl's arm, severed at the elbow.