Ten - When The Elevator BreaksDown
She sat on the beach and watchedthe waves roll in, with them the tide. The sky was blue and void ofcloud and the yellow sun climbed high, brushing Kate's hair andwarming her skin, next to adjust the shadow about her. She feltcontent, happy even, unable to say why. The birds called to her andshe listened to their voices, recognizing some, and only moved whenthe water cooled her toes.
Bench 1 wasmade up of three adjacent islands (1, 2 and 3) linked by esotericbridges, floral promenades to the uninitiated. A few people wanderedthrough the lush undergrowth, plucking white and purple blossoms,while others swam in the tepid ocean, one with the fish and oysters,their bobbing faces lost in spray.
Droover restedby a stubby tree. Its leaf fronds glimmered, translucent and green,rainbow-hued above her. She was a new person this morning, notrecalling the night before, oblivious to its passage. She thoughtback to the MuchoTomcat,her crew and engine, and it was as if they belonged in a differentlife, another world. She'd parted from them...how long ago? Kate hadlost all track of time. She scratched her nose, pursed her lips andmade hollows in the sand, quickening her pace as the sea washed in,chasing her...
She suspected a man followed, butthen forgot as, delicately, the day wore thin.
Evening found her beneath a largeumbrella, sipping an iced drink. She had no money, she reflected.Everything on the Bench, though, was free.
‘May I join you?’
Droover said nothing. He smiledand sat opposite her, a string, a key dangling from his wrist.
‘I know,’ he stated,pre-empting the expected question, ‘there are no locks on theisland. So why am I carrying a key? Truth is,’ he went on, toyingwith the object, ‘a man gave it to me; said it'd bring me luck. Doyou believe in luck? Eh...’
‘If you imagine it will open myheart or my legs,’ Kate told him automatically, ‘then you're verymuch mistaken.’ She was suddenly cold, a little shocked by whatshe'd said, surprised that she'd said anything.
The man retreated imperceptibly;his smile hardened. Droover used the extended moment to relocate hercomposure. She nearly apologized, trouncing the impulse under a bootof disgust.
A waiter brought him a drink. Heswirled the liquid in its tall glass. ‘My name's Mordy.’
‘Droover...’
‘Would you like to spend thenight with me, Droover?’
This time she didn't hesitate.‘Yes.’
Sex was fluid, long, abstract andpleasing.
‘What's that on your finger?’Mordy asked at some point.
She'd drawn a map of her pleasureon his skin. ‘Magic.’
He laughed. She bit him.
Hours sailed past. Light filteredinto the room, piecing together furniture and contours, the ceiling'sinward-facing steps rising to a convex window.
Mordy sighed, as yet asleep, andKate traced with her eyes the pattern of marks and bruises on hisbody. There was a definite picture, she was convinced, but an imageincomplete and therefore unreadable.
‘Droover k?’
‘Yeah...who is it?’
She got out of bed and took ashower.
Retracing her steps she saw Mordywas gone.
She shivered, and woke up on thebeach, the water about her toes sending tiny shocks through herbody...
*
‘Spots on the tongue, Luke?’
‘Yeeah...’ What he could seedidn't make him feel good.
‘I should be so lucky,’ saidSally. ‘My hair's falling out; look.’ Tens of fine strand wrappedher fingers.
He closed his mouth.
She touched his shoulder. ‘Don'tworry about it. Get some sleep. You'll need it.’
‘Isn't Friendly back yet?’ heasked, not for the first time, switching the mirror off.
‘Nah – ‘
Abdul caught her as she dropped.
‘No one said it was going to beeasy,’ the co-pilot complained later. ‘If you'd let us help...’
He was shakinghis head. ‘You don't appreciate the problems,’ Byron explained;‘there are things to do and things not to do, things to touch andthings not to touch, places to go and places not to go, placesyou...’
‘All right!’ she interposed.‘I think we get the picture. But there has to be something, yes? Wecan't just sit here, totally useless.’
He inhaled deeply. ‘Okay.’
‘What? Tell us.’
‘There's a leak in one of theauxiliary tanks, you can climb in and fix it.’
‘Not me,’ said Abdul. ‘I getsuit-sick.’
Sal gave him a dirty look.‘Suit-sick?’ she said testily.
The cook nodded vigorously, heldhis head and grimaced.
‘Well?’ Friendly goaded. ‘Youwant to or not?’
Sally folded her arms. ‘You'reon,’ she said, and began to strip, tossing her clothes at Abdul...
*
She stood onthe bridge between islands 1 and 2, the sky laced with purple andindigo, the filigreed woodwork of the arching structure like a bonecoat-hanger, hollow, embellished around her. The air was sweet,tanged with the scents of apricot and banana.
She searched for the moon, rubbedthe steel thimble against her palm. It was obscured by cloud.
A panther, she mused. When themoon was right. When there was a moon.
She continuedacross the bridge. Spherical bodies protruded, bulged from theforest-floor like fungi, lights within, shades of red and amber, blueand coral, swirling. Kate Droover stepped over the smallest, feelingher skin tingle, reminded of Mordy, real or not, his gentle fingersas they slid up her thigh and dipped inside her. She smiled; a largerglobe oscillated, black and white and gold. It beckoned her, shethought. She approached carefully. There was no one, no person to beseen. Touching the pulsing surface brought a second recollection,that of death, how it had felt to kill: easy.
She pressed too hard and thebubble burst, knocking her cold and dizzy, sprawled on the damp earthlike a hunted animal, its flank bloodied, an arrow projecting, theshaft long, flighted with green feathers.
Kate dragged herself from the spotas if dreaming.
And maybe she was.
'A friend.'
She got out of bed and took ashower.
Retracing her steps she saw Mordywas sitting up, examining the bite marks across his stomach. Heglanced at her, dripping wet, wrapped in a bulky towel, and said,‘What did I do that you liked so much, Droover?’
She spun around.
They breakfasted on fruit andgoat's milk.
Mordy was quiet, brooding, hisearlier good-humour vanished with the stars, outshone by a nearerreality, that of parting; a farewell in his eyes, their shimmerdiluted.
‘I know it sounds oldfashioned,’he said eventually, ‘but I'd really like to see you again.’
‘You will.’
He looked surprised. ‘How? When?I don't know anything about you. Where do you come from? How long areyou staying?’
‘I have no past,’ she saidabruptly. ‘Just a present, maybe a future.’
Mordy was incredulous. ‘You knowhow old I am? Twenty-six! I design interiors, which I loathe. There'snothing I'd like more than simply to pack up, go away, forget my life- become like you, Droover. A person without a past...’
She swallowed, danced in herchair. ‘What's stopping you?’
‘You can't be serious; I'vecommitments.’
‘Break them.’
He leaned forward and stroked herelbow. ‘And wait for you to throw me away?’
Kate was puzzled. ‘You wish tohang on to something,’ she told him. ‘You can't. Not me, anyway.I don't belong.’
‘Right,’ he said; ‘you'reelemental, a wraith, a succubus I happened upon in the night.’
She liked that. ‘Give me thekey,’ she said.
Mordy looped the string from hiswrist to hers. Right to left, the metal object passed over a bridgeof flesh.
‘Now you have two.’ Heindicated the thimble, in hue the key's twin, shining dimly.
‘Let's go back to bed,’suggested Droover.
He wiped his mouth. ‘Did I tellyou about this machine I have that can make love thirty differentways? True, it's programmed in the styles - all copy-righted ofcourse - of famous twentieth century women. There's...’
‘Mordy.’
‘What?’
‘Shut up.’
She crossed thefinal bridge, that spanning the ocean-filled divide between islands 2and 3, and halted outside an irregular glass building, its low roofcurved like a wave, the sea made concrete, spangled, a crystal pile.
Music throbbed from deep. Aseamless panel slid aside, giving her access to the lurking,miscellaneous entertainments.
*
The suit was too big, its oxygentainted. The faceplate was spotted with oily dust. It had provedimpossible to remove, stained her fingers. And all the while ByronFriendly stood and smiled, when he wasn't frowning.
As for Luke...forget him, shethought, the conniving bastard, hyped up and moaning, clutching histoys.
A jet of hot gas struck her arm,sent her spinning, tangling her line. Sally cursed, rebounded off anunseen obstruction into the floating debris that had assembled behindher, now encompassing, a multicoloured, sticky residue she'ddisturbed on entering this freefall hell.
‘Droover S?’
‘Yeah...who is it?’
'The engineer.'
She checked, double-checked, butthe channel wasn't open.
‘Oh, shit.’
‘Sal?’
‘Yes!’ She jerked violently.
'Use thesealant-gun to locate the puncture, like I showed you,'came Byron's voice.
Angry, she closed the channelagain. Then, shakily, the suit's illumination embroiling her inragged shadow, Sally manoeuvred toward the small hole in the tank'sflexible casing. It pulsed at intervals, and she had to be careful toavoid being hit by a second blast of gas.
It salved her ego to have foundthe leak without resorting to the bulky instrument attached to hershoulders. She tugged once on the line, waited, and bobbed at thereply.
According to Byron the radio wasunreliable in the presence?of so much retrograde - or the memory ofit.
The thought was eerie.
The co-pilotmated the sealant-gun's nozzle with the roughly circular opening.
Her suit'slights dimmed. The faceplate seemed murkierthan ever. She switched the radio on. ‘Friendly.’
‘Here. What's the delay?’
‘Nothing, I...’
The gun went off prematurely.
Embedded in darkness, immobile -the glow before her eyes was illusory. She imagined it, didn't she?Sal was stuck, that was real. A coil of tubing floated through herfield of vision: so the darkness, the tangible black, had itsimperfections, like a clear, empty night of stars.
There was a buzzing in her ear. Itsounded bad. She had to move, but found it impossible, that and thesituation, the two one...
The tube was her air supply. Whatwas left in the suit? What reserve?
At least she didn't panic; panicwas useless.
The auxiliaryfuel tankwas two hundred metres in radius, she recalled. Sally Droover wasglued to its inner wall like some insect on fly-paper.
I wonder if I mended the leak? shemused, drifting, out of body, out of.. .
Hey, a face.
‘Hello,’ she said. Her voiceechoed, trapped in the deflating helmet.
The face revolved, a constructionof grime and spongy sediment the likeness of Ernie.
*
She hadn't cared for theplanetarium; it made her homesick, filled her with the urge to run.
Mothertug...
But that was past, Kate remindedherself. That was gone, a different life, another world, planets andstars, moons and space - contorted space, flat, folded, corners allthe same -which no longer occupied her sky.
She ordered another drink andwatched a series of shows, a noisy assemblage of horrendous acts andobscure passages. And what it lacked in content it lacked in everyother department as well. Or so Kate imagined. There were peoplearound her (too many, too close) who appeared to be enjoyingthemselves. Their expressions, however, lacked truthfulness.
Am I like them?she asked herself. Is this what lies ahead, crouched in hiding readyto swallow me?
She slammed her glass down on thegarish bar. Nobody looked her way.
The keydangling from her wrist shone red and blue, then red and green. Kateflicked it, tasted it, tasted the thimble that had fixed itself toher middle finger; tasted acid, a bitter flavour, sore on the tongue.
Droover spat, a brief globe ofluxuriant hues...
She got up and walked, dodging,avoiding contact with those she newly despised. She'd been deludingherself, she realized, fleeing the wrong places, running nowhere. Ithad to stop; she was bound by friendship if nothing else, and thatwas something she could not so easily shake. Changed she may be, butthe past, all of it, good and bad, left its mark, as had she on theonce smooth skin of Mordy.
It brought an old saw to mind...
‘When the elevator breaks down,’Kate recited, jogging, ‘take the stairs.’