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Hurt World One and the Zombie Rats

Page 11

by Stuart Parker


  *

  Renaissance was sighing in ecstasy. Or was it more of a purr? Devita, a young man who worked in the Hurt World in the capacity of a cleaner, assured himself that what he was conjuring with his lips and tongue were real. Sure women could fake an orgasm - out of politeness or to get some extra sleep - but could a woman really fake this? How could someone turn melting into a sound? And how could someone so effortlessly drop ten years from their face if there was even a smidgen of resistance? The couple were sharing the hotel bathroom’s shower recess with the nozzle on steam mode. The luxuriously silky vapour was moistening skin, loosening tension from mind and body, clearing aside the mundane for the heavenly touch.

  The bathroom was exquisitely clean. The best cleaner robots money could buy had ensured there was barely a speck of dust in the air and the slightest trace of grime on any of the bathroom’s brass, gold and porcelain surfaces. The shower recess’s tinted window was made of the finest diamond glass. Its anti-fogging properties maintained the spectacular view of the San Francisco skyline with colours and contrasts superbly sharp.

  Devita was on his knees; he dipped his tongue in the mood salts he had close to hand and tortured her just a little more before bringing her to climax. She gasped and quivered with the moment. He was satisfied that he had done well. But he could have brought her up to climax a fraction slower, brought her to a scream. The time for that simply wasn’t available. The Hurt World needed her.

  Renaissance turned the nozzle into cold water mode to confirm that the moment was over. Devita knew better than to pursue her there.

  ‘You still haven’t lost your touch,’ Renaissance said as she washed herself with soap.

  Devita stood up and let her see his muscular torso. He put away the moods salts quickly for they were technically illegal, something she might mind now that the cold water was running. ‘You’ve picked a nice bathroom,’ he muttered.

  ‘Designed by Folitane. This is the only hotel in the world she has outfitted.’

  Devita stepped away from the shower recess and began to towel himself down. He wasn’t particularly wet but the touch of the soft white towel was heavenly. He looked over Renaissance’s body. It didn’t look as good from afar as it had felt up close, but that was not surprising. Someone as important as Renaissance could be forgiven some sagging and wrinkles. In fact, just the thought of how important she was caused Devita to feel inadequate and his deep gravelly voice to weaken. ‘Although no one would deny you such luxuries as these,’ he murmured, ‘I fear bringing your own personal cleaner to San Francisco may be one extravagance too many.’

  Renaissance joined him at the towel rack and dried herself with a lot more purpose. She kicked him on the cheek and smiled. ‘But you have special security clearance. You have access to restricted areas.’ She moved into the bedroom and got dressed quickly, her clothes neatly laid out on the bed in their proper order. She glanced back at her tall, handsome companion in the bathroom. ‘Now put your professional talents to use and give the suite a thorough clean, would you, darling? Having you here really does increase the need to ensure there are no hidden surveillance devices.’ She smirked. ‘It’s a good thing you’re the man for the job.’

  Stepping out of the suite she was immediately confronted with an ashen faced Spiros Pardos standing in the richly carpeted passageway with his fingers busily twitching at his sides. ‘Have you been unpacking?’ he said. ‘That might prove to be a waste of time.’

  Renaissance stared. ‘Why is that?’

  Pardos’s Adam’s Apple popped out as he swallowed anxiously. ‘The Government Insurance Agents are already here. They’re waiting for you in the conference room. They look particularly pissed.’

  ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me,’ murmured Renaissance as she marched down the passageway.

  The San Francisco Tower Hotel’s twentieth floor was a hive of activity with the hasty setting up of a temporary Hurt World headquarters. Enough equipment to monitor the whole globe. Spyware and anti-spyware in equal measure. And setting up the living spaces for all the analysts and consultants that would be coming in with the task of identifying locations where Blast might pick up Mas’s scent or perhaps even track down where she was in the flesh. Living spaces that were a nightmare to get right, for the best analysts and consultants seemed to have eccentricities up to their eyeballs and endless lists of requirements from the temperature of the water in their glasses to the brightness of their desk lamps. The mood, however, became even more somber inside the conference room. The two Government Insurance Agents were sitting at the oakwood table in pinstripe suits. A male and female, both with shoulder length hair and briefcases open to virtual documents. Renaissance made a point of knowing all Government Insurance Agents who were at a level to bother her and these two were near the top: Chezel and Gift. Renaissance was surprised. She would never have thought there was an insurance premium high enough to bring them into the same room together. She greeted them with handshakes and pleasantries, all the while wondering how they could have gotten wind of the operation so quickly. If it was a snitch, she could understand. Insurance agents decided which treatments and drugs a patient could have access to. When someone was sick, the insurance agent was more important than the doctor.

  ‘I imagine you were just about to contact us regarding your latest enterprise,’ said Chezel, her harelip becoming more noticeable. ‘Fortunately, we were able to find out for ourselves.’

  Renaissance shrugged. She knew they were too smart for her to lie, but she didn’t think telling the truth would help her much either.

  ‘Not everyone wishes to see an end to the Hurt World experiment,’ continued Chezel. ‘Those that do, however, would be well pleased with the choices you are making.’

  Gift quickly added, ‘Our job is not to judge those choices, it’s to put a price on them. You can be sure that is a far more important role.’

  ‘The United Nations defines civilisation as any region or state in which there is insurance. That is why Asylum City is probably the most uncivilised place on earth. That explains my own personal disapproval of your appointment of Kaptu Z. He has grown up without any concept of insurance. In other words, completely uncivilised. And that is why the policy you need to take out is well above your budget.’

  ‘Did your calculations factor in what the mission is all about? It is precisely the reason why the likes of Kaptu Z is needed.’

  ‘He doesn’t just lack a concept of the value of things,’ said Gift disparagingly, ‘he doesn’t work either. Asylum City lacks modern forms of transport, dwellings and technology. You have sent him into Europe without any supervision or safeguards. He is likely to destroy or damage everything he encounters. Without any parameters having been places on him, the potential number of claimants is staggering. Kaptu Z is easily the most uncivilised client we have had the duty to create a policy for. I agree with my colleague that it is unlikely that the Hurt World will be able to afford it. It is a shame that you let the operation progress this far without first consulting us. Blackballing is not something we do lightly.’

  Renaissance wouldn’t let herself be fazed. She knew Government Insurance Agents liked to rattle people like they were maracas. ‘Perhaps the parametres could be found to make this mission more insurable. Far from forgetting about you, I set aside the best suite on the floor for your work. Stay as long as you need. And my own personal assistant will be at your complete disposal to ensure you get all that you need. That too can be squeezed within our budget, I’m sure.’

  Gift looked a little too excited. ‘From the scale of the set up here, it’s clear the operation is of some importance to you. We will try to accommodate it if we can.’

  ‘I don’t know why you’ve gone to the trouble of coming to San Francisco,’ interjected Chezel, less impressed, ‘but the first parameter we’re going to set is that Kaptu Z doesn’t get anywhere near here, anywhere at all on US soil. That would take way too much insurance for you t
o handle.’

  Renaissance nodded. ‘I get it. That won’t be a problem.’

  ‘Europe isn’t much cheaper but there’s not a lot we can do now that he’s there.’

  ‘At least, the UK can be made restricted,’ said Gift. ‘Tell Kaptu Z to stay away from there as well.’

  ‘Alright.’

  ‘Especially London. I couldn’t bear to imagine the sort of costs involved if he went on a wrecking spree there.’

  Chezel stood up from the table. ‘I’m willing to spend at least an evening seeing if the operation can be salvaged. First, I would like a spa and some supper. Have your assistant organise it. I would see my suite first.’

  Renaissance stood up too. ‘As you wish.’

  Gift remained seated, his business not yet complete. ‘I’ll launch a 426 interim emergency policy. That will provide enough cover for the mission to proceed. But you must instruct your technician to refrain from doing a number of things until more work can be done on the policy.’

  ‘Refrain from what?’

  ‘He is not to drive any kind of non-automated transport, action any kind of weapon not directly issued to him by the United Nations, or take any kind of performance enhancing substances. He will have to accept those conditions over the Code Whisperer and any violations will make the policy void.’

  ‘And possibly bankrupt him for life.’ Renaissance betrayed a flash of anger. ‘Kaptu Z is on the most dangerous mission in the whole of Hurt World and all you’re offering him is holiday insurance.’

  Gift joined them on his feet with an indifferent look. ‘Like all gamblers, you should only stake what you can afford to lose. In this case you’ve staked Kaptu Z. You can choose your player but you can’t make the rules. If you want to turn them in your favour, you’d be well advised to find out what you’re criminal, Mas, is actually up to. Insurance policies are all about numbers and you need to demonstrate that it is more expensive to leave a criminal alone than it is to catch her. It won’t be easy when you’re criminal is a recluse poacher who spends years at a time hiding away in jungles.’

  Renaissance’s cheeks pinched in a harsh smirk. ‘I’ll try. Meanwhile, I’ll have my assistant show you to the public spa.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Gift. ‘That would be lovely.’

 

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