This was making my head hurt.
You truly become someone else, she said. You lose your previous self. You amputate it. I know a few gamers who have faked their own deaths and never gone back.
Moon. The poor bastard. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Jimmy was staring straight ahead, grinning. The two black men had abandoned their seats and now stood in the aisle, their faces watchful and distressed. Jimmy had spooked them, apparently. I turned to Eve.
And then what happens? I said.
Eve shrugged. You live in the game. You gather tongues and drink the Pale. You act out complicated plots scripted by your Glove. You accumulate points.
But what do the points mean? I said. What do you get in the end?
Nothing, really. I suppose you can improve your power and status but the class system within the game is so rigid that mostly you try to stay alive. If your tongue is taken sixteen times, then your character dies. You become a wetbrain, a shadowfred.
A shadowfred?
Eve nodded. A dead character. You’re too weak and disoriented to reenter the game and too fucked-up to go back to reality. It’s really very sad. The Mariners hunt the wetbrains for sport, even though their tongues are worthless.
Whose tongue is the most valuable?
A Glove’s, obviously. But no one would try to take one.
Why not?
Punishment, she said. The punishment would be severe.
The bus shivered but did not stop. I wanted a cigarette. If the bus didn’t stop soon I might put my hand through the window.
Of course, I said. How is the game different from life, then?
Eve laughed, uneasily. I held onto her hand.
The city was two-dimensional behind shatterproof glass. It flattened out like stock footage that’s been used one too many times. I wanted off the fucking bus. The Metropolis dream was twisting around in my little brain and I was having difficulty breathing but eventually we came to a stop downtown that was within walking distance of Griffin’s office. It did occur to me that I didn’t have to go there at all. Eve and I could go have breakfast and talk about tomorrow and maybe go over to her apartment and check the walls for unwanted portals. But I had a feeling that it wouldn’t matter which direction we took when we stepped from the bus. We could walk north or south and we would still arrive at Griffin’s building.
The bus stopped and the doors whooshed open.
This is it, I said. This is our stop.
Eve stood up to go but I just sat there.
Are you sure? she said.
Yeah, I said finally.
I followed her down the aisle and hesitated at the steps. Jimmy would get off with us, surely. But when I looked back, he was reading a newspaper.
Oblivion, I thought. The destruction of self. I imagine it feels good.
Eve and I didn’t hold hands on the sidewalk. There was no one about and the air fairly buzzed with silence. It was early, I guess. Or maybe it was just one of those lost Saturdays, one of those blank days where the color of light never changes from morning until dusk. The sky was on hold. Time and weather were nonexistent and it was like half the city was unconscious.
Griffin’s building soon loomed against the empty sky and as we approached the dark reflecting glass doors, I wondered what we would do if they were locked. But the doors weren’t locked and I stupidly told myself not to be surprised that the lawyers and other pinstripe types who had offices here would be working on the sixth day. How else would they get ahead. I held the door open for Eve and let her go in first, which meant she was between me and McDaniel when he stepped out from behind a big artificial plant with a gun in hand.
Theseus, she said. Her voice brittle.
If it isn’t little Goo, he said. I love your disguise.
Her shoulders went stiff. What’s that supposed to mean?
Nothing, pet. Nothing at all. I’m sure you have made quite the victim of this one.
Oh, shut the fuck up.
Ouch, he said.
And by the way, she said. My name is Eve and Goo is as good as dead.
McDaniel was glowing, he was so smug. And he looked very elegant in what appeared to be a deerskin suit. I don’t know. It could have been human skin. He wore a tiny ruby stud in his left ear and his teeth were obnoxiously crooked and white when he smiled. I looked around for the security guard who had eyeballed me so nastily the other day but the lobby was white and silent as the moon.
McDaniel coughed. I relieved him of duty, he said. Official police business.
Thank God.
He shrugged and pulled a square key on a brass ring from his breast pocket. One eye on us and the gun held high, he inserted the key into a lock on the wall and turned. I could only assume the doors we had just come through were now electronically locked and the alarm system activated.
Where is Mr. Sky? he said.
Indisposed.
His teeth flashed. A poor choice, he said.
I shrugged. Eve was furious and I was very sorry that I hadn’t told her who we were coming to see.
McDaniel waved the gun impatiently. Come along, then.
Eve shrugged and threw me a shivering glance that said she wasn’t afraid, exactly. But she wasn’t too thrilled about this. And without waiting for me to blink she turned on her heel and walked to the elevators. McDaniel frisked me quickly and seemed unsurprised to find that I wasn’t carrying a gun. He took away my knife though, and Moon’s copy of Ulysses, which he tossed sideways with a snarl of disgust. The book hit the marble floor with a tremendous echoing crash and slid to rest against an emergency exit door. He left me with the blue notebook, a pack of cigarettes, what little cash I had and Ray Fine’s yellow-tinted glasses. There was no reason for him to prod me along with the gun at my ribs, and so we walked to the elevators side by side, like friends. McDaniel was a few inches taller than me and he smelled sweet as a clump of freshly killed flowers.
Eve had already pressed the Up button and she fidgeted against the wall, looking much like a restless and sullen teenager. The slash of her dark eyes and hair hanging forward. All she needed was a mouthful of gum to pull into a pink tangle between her fingers and lips and whatever McDaniel was thinking, I wanted nothing more than to let her go home. Eve was tired, she had done nothing to deserve this. The elevator would be there any minute and if I was going to do something it would have to be quick and very fucking fancy. McDaniel stood two or three feet to my left, his body at a slight angle so that he could watch both of us. The gun dangled in his right hand, against his thigh. I looked at his eyes and he was completely focused on Eve; on her slim white thighs and the line of exposed flesh at her narrow waist; on her firm little tits. The motherfucker. He was no weakling but he was tall and thin and likely had a poor sense of balance and I thought I could probably kick his legs out from under him and drop him like a scarecrow made of rubber bands and sticks, but if he didn’t drop the gun he would easily shoot me in the face as I tried to jump on him and gouge out his eyes. And he looked like he had a fair grip on the gun. I glanced at Eve and as strong as she was I thought she was too far away to help much. What I wanted to do was kick the gun out of his hand and hit him in the throat with some kind of karate chop, or bite it off. As long as he dropped the gun, and Eve came up with it, everything would be cool. I would have a mouthful of blood but Eve could go home and take a bath or check into a hotel, order room service and figure out how to pay for it later. And she could seek a little psychological help. The two of us could even check into rehab together. A day and a half on the Pale and my own morphine problem had developed new legs.
Anyway.
All of this nonsense flickered through my head in the space of two seconds and as I was sucking in a deep breath and getting myself ready to launch a sideways boot at his gun, McDaniel turned and raised his right hand and I was looking down the thing’s dark steel nostril. McDaniel smiled and a soft bell chimed to indicate that the elevator had arrived.
I backed aw
ay from him, into the mirrored chamber. Eve beside me, silent. McDaniel stepped through the doors and told me to push the button for the sixteenth floor. I resisted a smart-ass temptation to push every button, as I was reluctant to annoy him in such close quarters.
The box began its ascent.
You aren’t very clever, he said. Are you?
No, I said.
McDaniel produced a set of handcuffs and gave them to me.
Who are these for?
He grinned. They’re for her, he said.
I didn’t move. What’s up?
McDaniel hit me in the ear with the barrel of his gun, not so hard. But hard enough that I found myself on one knee with butterflies and ringing telephones in my head. Four or five crumpled helpless reflections of myself in the mirrors around me. The elevator abruptly stopped in midair and hung there like a bomb waiting to fall and I guessed that he had slapped the red emergency button, which might well account for some of the ringing noise. Eve’s face hovered into view and the chickenshit voice that does a lot of the talking in my skull at times like these began to howl and cry the word bait.
This was a trap and Eve was the bait.
Oh, me.
Eve pulled me to my feet and held one finger before my eyes.
One, I said. I could still count, by God.
She smiled and moved the finger back and forth and I suppose my eyes were still tracking because she looked relieved. The handcuffs were heavy in my left hand and I was ready to drop them when McDaniel told me to look sharp and cuff her to the handrail. In the far corner, away from the fucking buttons.
Both hands, please.
I sighed and felt my skin turn gray with rage and I wondered if he would actually shoot us if I refused but Eve suddenly pecked at my cheek, a sweet dry kiss and two whispered words.
It’s okay, she said.
And so I clamped one metal ring around her right wrist and pulled the second one up and under the rail and locked the other wrist so that her hands were behind her back.
Perfect, said McDaniel.
What are you going to do? said Eve.
I don’t know, said McDaniel. I really don’t know.
He stepped close to me and pressed his mouth to my cheek in almost exactly the same spot where she had just kissed me and I wondered if he could taste her on my skin.
Don’t worry, he said. After I’ve finished with your friend, I will come back for you. And I might amuse myself with you further, or I might just take you home. I might take you to Lady Adore and let her punish you in a really interesting way.
I’m not going back, said Eve. I’m finished, Goo was finished.
McDaniel chortled. Quite right, he said.
Adore will let me run, she said.
He shook his head. You don’t know her very well.
I was anxious. And growling, I realized. I sounded exactly like a paranoid dog and so I lit a cigarette, reasoning that it might calm my nerves and that it would certainly be to our advantage if a fire alarm went off. McDaniel was not stupid, however. He slapped the butt from my mouth and crushed it under his heel. He stroked my cheek with the barrel of his gun and I flinched. The pain was irrelevant and I wouldn’t mind so much if he hit me again but I was afraid I would be unable to stand up if I suffered any more damage to my inner ear.
You like her, he said. Don’t you?
I didn’t move or speak. I had a bad feeling.
Why not give her a kiss, he said. On the mouth.
I hesitated, then stepped close and kissed Eve’s lips.
Very nice, said McDaniel. But quite dull.
Fuck you, I whispered.
Yes, he said. Later, perhaps. But now I want you to slip your right hand up her skirt and give her box a squeeze. And don’t let go.
I turned in circles and the mirrors were bright. There were bits and pieces of me in every corner.
Quickly now, he said.
Four or five versions of myself. I slipped my hand under Eve’s skirt and cupped her pussy like a peach that I would hate to bruise and she was hot, in fact. She was wet. I stared into her face and told myself to think of garbage and black flies, dead fish and horseshit. I told myself not to get hard, not to get hard because an erection would only rob my brain of useful blood and make me dumber than ever. If that was possible. Eve’s mouth twitched slightly and she moved her hips to push against my hand and I was hard as can be.
And now with the other hand, said McDaniel. Tickle her titties.
That’s enough, I said. Motherfucker.
McDaniel sighed. Oh, all right. This is just for fun. But I do want you to kiss her again, and this time please force her mouth open and take her tongue.
He doesn’t need to take it, said Eve.
Take it, said McDaniel.
My reflection was in fragments and part of me was enjoying this. If I had to come back from the dead to hurt McDaniel for this, I would try. But for now I bent and kissed her again, my mouth open. Eve allowed me to bite her tongue, and I offered my tongue to her. She bit it just enough to draw blood. I felt dizzy and realized my hand was still tucked against her crotch like a glove and the fingers were moving. I pulled away and McDaniel laughed, apparently satisfied. He hit the red button and we continued up to the sixteenth floor. I kissed Eve once more, for luck. I wanted to promise her I would come back for her but was afraid it would sound false and much too dramatic.
I hope you aren’t claustrophobic, said McDaniel.
Not at all, she said.
McDaniel motioned for me to remove myself from the elevator. I backed away from Eve and stood between the doors to stop them from closing. McDaniel placed the gun against Eve’s head to keep me from getting any funny ideas, then pinched her nose shut between his thumb and finger until she stuck out her tongue but he didn’t try to bite it. He laughed, and told her not to worry. He promised that he would be back for her. Eve closed her eyes and I threw my thoughts at her like furious hail. Don’t worry, don’t worry, don’t worry.
I almost laughed.
Because one of us would be back and I was the only one armed with a blue notebook. But I did remember her telling me once that she had nightmares about open spaces, that in fact she loved to feel trapped. McDaniel roughly touched her ribs and belly with long white fingers, he was tickling her with unpleasant intimacy and now she lunged and squirmed away from his touch like an angry daughter. And before he disembarked the elevator, the fucker happily pressed all twenty-nine buttons.
Now he shoved me down the long yellow hallway, through the little waiting room and past the desk where the freakish and overtly sexual receptionist was not sitting, past the dark landscape of a drowning human brain and through the hissing doors to Griffin’s pale white lair. And Griffin, or more likely Major Tom, was napping restlessly on the black leather sofa where just the day before he and I had shared some very nice coke. I could use some of that shit now. My reflexes were fucking poor, my reflexes were impoverished and now McDaniel pushed me toward the sofa where Griffin lay sleeping.
Wake him, he said.
I kneeled beside the couch and looked into Griffin’s face. At first I thought he must be dead but his lips were much too rubbery and slick with drool. He wasn’t easy to wake up, though. I thumped his nose with the blackened nail of my middle finger. I spat into my hand and palmed his bare skull like a basketball. I tugged open one eyelid and blew hot air onto his naked eyeball and still he snored until McDaniel grew weary of this and kicked the glass coffee table over, shattering it. Griffin sat up with a foolish grin on his face while I rolled into a nearby corner to pick small bits of glass out of my skin.
Theseus, said Griffin. Welcome, welcome.
McDaniel rolled his eyes and gave a mock bow. He stalked the length of the office with the cool inner fury of a stage villain whose head is so ripe with mischief that he can’t begin to begin.
What can I get you, said Griffin. A drink, a cigar?
I would like a moist towel, I said.
&nb
sp; Griffin sneered. Hello, Ray. Ever the prole, aren’t you?
The what? I said.
Proletariat, he said. The dull, wage-earning class. Haven’t you read 1984?
No. I did see the movie, though. David Bowie, wasn’t it?
William Hurt, you troll. McDaniel fairly snarled.
Whatever, I said. And I said it slowly, letting the word roll lavishly over my lips.
Excuse me? he said. His eyes like pinpricks.
Fuck you, I said. Fuck you, okay.
Griffin coughed and threw a pillow at me. Wipe your face, Ray. You’re a fright.
Thank you.
Griffin stood up, then. His arms out wide and his posture grossly servile. He moved close to McDaniel and began to grovel and kiss his hands and virtually lick at his genitals in such a way that might have been fashionable two hundred years ago, in a surreal French courtyard full of bursting flowers and castrated male servants. McDaniel primped and preened throughout and I had to wonder what I was doing with these two mad fuckers while Eve was handcuffed to herself in an elevator.
Let’s get this over with, I said.
Griffin literally purred as he helped McDaniel out of his jacket. He hung it up, careful not to crease it, and turned to look at me with disdain.
Your tone of voice is offensive, he said.
Offensive, I said. Are you serious?
Terribly.
I am not offended, said McDaniel. Yet.
Well, then. Who wants a cocktail? said Griffin. I have a pint of the Pale here somewhere.
I wasn’t sure if Griffin was high or just acting high. McDaniel exhaled through his nose and murmured that he was not thirsty. I did want a drink, however. I wanted two fingers of dead memories, served over ice with a wedge of lime and a splash of tonic, chased with a fat line of coke that would leave my jaw numb and heavy. I told myself to change the subject.
McDaniel cocked his gun now, and uncocked it.
I smiled as my education finally kicked in. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I said. Isn’t that right? Theseus was the Duke of Athens.
McDaniel squinted at me. Very good. You are not quite the oaf I imagined.
I shrugged.