Elvissey (42 page)

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Authors: Jack Womack

BOOK: Elvissey
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The Dero weren't born bad, E once explained to me during
our talks; they just grew into it. Anything they did or thought
harmed, though they apparently believed that their intentions were inevitably good; they could never have spread
falsehood among others, had they not first perfected the lies
they told themselves. The Dero adjusted so well to their caves
and to the bottom of their shafts, that they convinced themselves that everyone should share the pleasure they knew,
and so they set about guaranteeing that everyone would.

When morningshine woke me I coughed for several minutes, continuing to spew another world's soot. I'd opened
the windows before bedding; dragonflies whirred round my
room, hovering momentslong before me as if snapping pictures. At length I stood, and examined my hand's bandage,
peering underneath at the damage evidenced. The air was
no less warm than it had been since I'd arrived; compared to
where we'd been, it chilled me, and I drew on my robe.

The clock read ten-thirty; switching on the telecom, I
coded the New York office, hoping to contact Judy, and
aware her of our conclusions. Several jets overheaded, without; while they passed the screen blurred, imaging. When at
last the colors coalesced, I faced a young blond woman
sitting at the reception desk. "Please tree me onto Madam,
if she's present," I said, still attempting to blink myself
awake.

"Who asks?"

"Her assistant, Isabel," I said. "It's a London call. Is she
there? Would you please connect us?"

"I'm Madam's assistant," she said; the woman's smile was
no less realistic than Leverett's had ever been, and her eyes
were so glassy as the Elvisoid's. "I was assigned the position
this morning,"

"Temp-?"

"Permanent," she said, setting her computer on datacall,
eyeing her screen. "Your name is Isabel, you said? Isabel
Bonney?"

"Isabel will do. If you'll connect me with Madam-"

"Isabel Bonney, and you were most recently assigned to
the E Project?"

"I was. This interrogation's unneeded, would you
please-"

"As of this morning the E Project has been ruled a nonevent," the woman told me. "All pertinent information has
been defiled from Dryco systems. In accordance with an
all-inclusive directive, participating New York office employees are terminated. Your husband, John Bonney-"

"Put me through to Madam," I said, wondering if I might
still be sleeping. "Now."

"-has been informed prior to our conversation of his
newly nonexistent state. Your financial holdings and accounts have been appropriated by Dryco to cover processing
expenses-"

"Bestill.! Listen to me-!"

"Is there a preferred location where personal possessions
in your home and office may be transferred?"

"Don't touch my things," I shouted at the screen; the
woman countenanced nothing untoward. `Judy? Judy! I
know you're eavesdropping this-"

"As no preferred deposit location is given, all possessions
will be therefore claimed by Dryco to cover transferral
costs," she said. "All Dryco ID and charge cards are herewith
nullified, including all Shoprivilege benefits. Healthcare
privileges are immediately revoked-"

"Shut up! Judy-!"

"If you have been employing Dryco transportation during
your trip, those tickets presently held are automatically
voided-"

"Answer me!!"

"Inquiries regarding additional details relating to your
severance package are to be answered by Mister Malloy, in
the London office," she said. "Hotel checkout time is twelve,
Greenwich."

"Don't-"

"Do good, feel real. Thank you for calling Dryco."

"Answer me! Judy!! Motherfucker! Bitch! Judy-"

The ease with which, pressured, I'd slipped into childhood's language patterns surprised me most, that morning.
Being at last erased from Dryco wasn't such a shock in itself;
in time it happened to all, and I'd left alive, at least. As I lay
crying on the bed, listening to a phone ring in a room across
the courtyard, I wondered why Judy slatecleaned me in trad
manner, where the one departing loses not only the position
but all existence up until that point. That was what I'd always
feared, the threat of having my reality snatched from me;
and if I were to be vaporized, I'd have hoped it would be for
some wrong I'd actually committed. I remembered telling
this to Judy once; I suspected she kept it minded for future
use. She had so much difficulty regooding as any of us, after
all; it was only natural that it would be those she'd known the longest with whom she'd backslide. A dragonfly bumped
against the window-glass, breaking itself. Once cried dry, I
sat up; coded Malloy's number in on the switcher, onscreening him almost at once.

"Isabel," he said, seeing me. "I was about to call-"

"Were you?" I asked; his face inhered a sadness which
appeared not entirely false. "I'm awared I'm to contact you
for further details. Are you sending Willy over to street me?"

"Not at all," he said. "You've spoken to them in New
York?"

"A woman I've never seen before erased me," I said. "I'm
keeping my pocketed money and my clothes. Otherwise-"

"Isabel, Madam's doings aren't mine," Malloy said. "Hear
me, please."

"Dryco unisons its acts," I said. "I've seen, I know-"

"In America, possibly, though of late I have my doubts.
Alacrity and impunity are my bywords, so long as the profits
hold. Seat yourself and have a listen. All right?"

"Speak, then. What's left to be said?"

"More than you think," Malloy told me. "The only property I'm to seize from you is the compact Alekhine you so
usefully employed last evening. It's not something I imagine
you wish returned to you in any circumstance."

"That's so," I said. "You've spoken directly to Madam?"

"I did at home last night, after they called me from the
hospital," he said. "She'd received her own reports in from
the saturnalia and had evidently reached her decisions in
advance of speaking to me. All seemed rainright, first off the
bat. Leverett's fate appeared to cheer her immensely. Glee
glazed her eyes as I recounted what I'd been told. But then
when I broached the subject of your survival-"

"She chilled. So I gather-"

"She's a cold one, for sure," he said. "Struck me that she'd
been gardening her mood for some time to get such a crop.
When did you speak with her last?"

"Two months ago. We'd worded almost daily before then, but Leverett threatened. Had me cut the wires. He had me
eyed constantly, and I couldn't contact her. She was distrusting me even then-"

Malloy shook his head. "Leverett's tarbrush blackens even
from the grave," he said. "Inferring from her comments, he
allowed to Madam that you yourself had clipped, and
thrown in completely with his project. Appears she believed
not wisely but too well. `No one betrays me but once,' she
told me."

"Why wouldn't she tell me herself, then? Did she say?"

"I asked her if she didn't feel that would be the preferable
method. She told me she didn't want to hurt you," Malloy
said. "The upperlevel madness over there's always astonishing. Twelve contradictories believed at once, that sort of
thing."

"It's in the system's nature-" I said.

"Certainly in her nature. Last year she had me organize
medical experiments I'm still pretending I know nothing
about. Horrible stuff, horrible-"

I stared into his face, seeking signs of falsehood; saw no
flush, no quick blinkings, no shifting eyes. "Did they involve
something called Melaway?" I asked; he frowned.

"You've heard, then," he said. "Utterly mad. The pot
painting the kettle white, too, I'd call it. What's to be said,
Isabel, that hasn't been?"

"Very little," I said, at once feeling myself more comfortable in his presence again, however much one day it might
prove a mistake. "I'm as glad to be done with it, whatever
happens next."

"Yes, we need to discuss that," he said. "How are you this
morning, in any event? Looked a bit peaked last night, I
heard. Still appear somewhat underweathered, but it's evident you're in better shape than Leverett, as it were."

"I'm better," I said. "I should see Doctor Harrison again,
mayhap, while I can."

"He did you right, yesterday? That's good. I only go in
when nature calls. If I start heaving blood or something."

"My baby, I need to be sure," I said; felt myself slipping
once more. "I won't be able to once I'm returned-"

"Isabel, listen," he said. "As told, we've room for you here.
I've final discretion over here as to what's to be done with
miscreants if I so choose."

"Would I be placed so easily here?" I asked. "Last
night-"

"We wouldn't bereave you," he said. "I'd certify that."

"Judy certified much as well, over time-"

"I'm notJudy, whomever she might be. I'm not sure what
we'll have you doing, but Madam won't hear of it and even
if she does it'll not concern her. This morning I spoke to my
sister, estimating it wise to make a preparation or two. Croppie says she's a room for you in her flat. Lives in Bow.
Enchanting neighborhood, and the crime rate's been plunging for years now."

"She works for Dryco, too?"

"Perish forbid," he said. "She's an artist. I believe you've
something in common."

He winked; if I were to have no other choices, I could
think of worse ones to have. Perhaps Malloy would prove to
be more worthy of my trust than I'd proved to have been to
Judy's. "Thank you," I told him. "I'm muted-"

"That's fine, I generally talk enough for three or four.
Allow me to call the desk there and tell them you're covered
through tonight. My sister and I will come by for you around
six and haul you away. Would that be suitable?"

"Yes ..." I said. "More than suitable. Malloy-"

"This evening, then," he said, allowing his image to fade.
"It's been real."

For several minutes after Malloy unscreened I sat there,
addled by events; grateful for once that Dryco's left never
knew what its right was doing. Certain now that I was no
longer asleep, I switched off the telecom. Walking into the bathroom I turned on the tap, deciding to bathe and allow
my body to enjoy the same float my mind presently knew. I
was unseeable through the window, and opened it wide,
breathing in eucalyptus scent, clearing my nose of lingering
soot. London wouldn't be so much worse than New York,
save on occasions, I thought as I layered the surface of the
rising water with bath salts. As I windowgazed, slipping off
my robe, I noted an odd odor which at first I thought wafted
from the salts; a chemical tang, such as the scent which
clings to preserved fruit. Turning, I saw John behind me,
shutting the bathroom door, locking us in.

"Checkout time, Iz," he said, favoring his bad leg as he
stood there. His nose was held placed by lengths of gauze
wrapped round his head; he'd had nothing done to his
cheekbone save to have the bruises painted. I'd not heard
my husband enter either my room or the bath; he'd moved
so silently, damaged, as he ever did when whole.

"What's wanted, John?" I asked, bandaging myself with a
towel; reaching behind me, I shut off the water. My husband
stood where he'd placed himself, unmoving, stroking my
hands with his, gesturing no overted threat.

"To see you, Iz," he said. "We barely talked last night."

"Please go out until I dress," I said. "Please-"

"The family that stays together," he said, "stays together.
But you should have left me there, Iz. You should have."

"I couldn't," I said. "Please, John, one minute, that's
all-"

"We don't talk anymore, Iz," he said, unpocketing his
razor, unsheathing its length. "I was whole again for a while.
This rips me-"

His eyes so hazed as to appear him blind; when he spoke
he voiced child's tones, hinting fear, anxious for approval,
set to tantrum. Sunlight glinted the razor's metal; I stared
away from its flash, focusing elsewhere, hoping to sight
something I might use to distract. Only his mouth's droop suggested that he wouldn't hazard me yet; I willed calm to
blanket me while he was armed.

"Understood," I said, hugging myself. "Will you let me
robe?" He nodded, and I gathered up my wrap, hiding
within its folds as he watched; stared, rather, appearing to
eye what lay in my head as if I'd gone see-through. "Talk,
John. Show and tell."

He took my right hand in his left, and extended my arm
full-length; raising his blade, he closed it shut. "We were
one, Iz," he said. "Once and then again. What happened?"

"Too much happened."

He nodded; shook slightly as he stood there, clasping my
hand, blocking the door. Too many meters separated the
window from the courtyard, even were I able to breakaway
and throw myself through before he might catch me. "The
first day over there," he said. "Before we met him. We were
like we were. It wonderfulled."

"We seemed to be as we'd been," I said. "But you know
how long we'd been troubling before that. That was our last
chance, and it didn't take. Neither of us is faulted. It's not
workable anymore, that's all."

"The world's regooding without us," he said. "We're
unregoodable."

"We imagined perfection," I said. "Was it ever so?" He
lipstilled; stared windowways, at sparrows perched in a plane
tree's limbs. Rotating his wrist as if unstiffening the wires, he
flipped the blade free of its compartment once more, and
then flipped it back in; out, in, out again.

"What's our life still hold, Iz?" he asked. "We're jobless.
Homeless. Purposeless. What's left?"

"We're left," I said.

"But disunited. You know I'll not last. Do you think you
will?"

"Of course-"

"We're more alike than you've ever admitted, Iz," he said. "Singled, will you want to last? An isolate's life's neither
mine nor yours."

"My baby's left," I said.

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