Silver Metal Lover - Part 7
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Part 7

"Just looking for kicks. I'dlike to kick you. Rich kid. Never needed to do a day's work in your, ah, life."

"My mother," I said, "knows E.M.'s Director, intimately."

Swohnson stared at me. He didn't believe me, but nevertheless he dimly began to try to recollect everything he'd said about the Director, father of his girlfriend, and E.M., and what he thought of them.

And as he did so, he absentmindedly got the lift for me.

I went down, coolly. Self-possessed. I went into the forecourt and the gate opened for me. Not wavering, I walked out The gate didn't close behind me, and I smiled a superior smile because he'd forgotten to auto-lock it, again.

I felt twenty-five. I felt sophisticated. I was free of my silliness, my adolescent dreams. I could do anything I wanted now. What a fool I'd been. I was proud of myself, for coming through, for. growing old and wise, and for liberating myself. My mother's training was at last paying off, and I was a whole person. Iunderstood myself.

I thought about Silver, and was faintly sorry for it, not that it had any emotions. But all in bits like that, though they would put him, it, together again, skin-spray over the joints to keep the smoothness of the muscles and complexion. Re-articulate. I wondered for half a second what it must be like for him, it, in a bag, a coffin-then realized it didn't know anything about it, having been shut off like a lamp.

Tomorrow they'd put it in the bas.e.m.e.nt and take itall to bits, and maybe not rea.s.semble it.

I rode the escalator up on to Patience Maidel Bridge, and walked over the Old River in the oxygenated gla.s.s tunnel, sometimes stopping to watch the lights of apartment blocks reflecting downward into the poisoned water, or the gleaming river boats with their gla.s.s tops and wakes of foam and snarling mutated fish. There were three or four people busking on the bridge, as there often are. They were all quite good. One was juggling in time to music a girl played on a mandolin. One had a marvelous voice.

Not, of course, as good as the robot's voice.

Off the bridge, there had been a break-in at Staria's Second Owner Emporium, and another at Finn Darl's Food-o-Mart, a soup of police and flashing lights and hospital wagons. A giant can of baked fruit had rolled into the road and was being flung away from each rushing car, into the path of another.

I was blase. I knew the violence of the city, and the uneven quality of its life. I took a bus to Jagged's and went into the restaurant for iced coffine, and as I drew the first sip through the chocolate-flavored straw, someone pinched my arm.

"You're out late," said Medea, seating herself opposite me.

"Does your mother know?" said Jason, seating himself next to her.

They both watched me with their narrow eyes.

I hadn't choked at the ferocious pinch, I had been through too much to let a pinch bother me, was too collected, or perhaps anesthetized.

"My mother's upstate."

"Ooh," said Medea. "Naughty goings-on at Chez Stratos." like Egyptia, Medea had had her hair toned dark blue, but unlike Egyptia's long silken rope, Medea's hair had been crimped and crinkled. Jason's hair was coloressence charted, a sort of beige, and he had a deep tan from surfing at Cape Angel. But Medea just lies under a black sunshade and never tans. I never know why they're my friends, because they're not.

"Did you go to see the anti-robot demo?" I asked. I knew they hadn't, and I said it deliberately, to bask in my uninvolvement.

"What demo?" said Medea.

"Oh, those robots that are supposed to look like people," said Jason. "Some morons making a fuss. How long is your mother away?" Jason asked me.

"Not long."

"Why not have a party before she comes back?"

"She'smuch too good to do that," said Medea.

"Are you?" Jason demanded.

"Yes," I said.

"You're getting very fat," said Medea. "Why don't you come off those capsules? I'm supposed to be a Eunice Ultima-terribly thin. But I just put the pills in the disposal."

I was twenty-five and clever. For once, I knew I was only a little plump.

"Why don't you try red hair for a change?" Jason said to me.

That was odd. My stomach turned over. Had Jason heard about my silliness? I hoped not. Jason liked to gain an advantage. When I was a child, he took care of me once when I was frightened. He was my age, but he was very kind, or seemed to be. But he liked the power. Later the same day he tried to frighten me again, just so he could rea.s.sure me. He'd do that sort of thing a lot. He used to have several little pets, and they were always getting sick so he had to care for them. But then they would get sick again, and one day Jason's father-Jason and Medea have a father-stopped Jason from having pets. Since then he's played with electric gadgets instead.

"She won't do anything Mother doesn't want," said Medea.

She got up again, and Jason got up too, as if he were attached to her by a string. She's sixteen and a half, and he is sixteen. They were born by the Precipta Split-Tempo method, and are really twins.

"Good-bye, Jane," said Jason politely.

"Good-bye, Jane," said Medea.

They went out, and the robot waiter came over on its tripod of wheels and charged me with Jason and Medea's bill, which they'd told it I'd be paying. Not that they couldn't pay it, it was just a joke. So I joked too, and refused, and gave the waiter their address. Their father would be furious (again), and normally I wouldn't have done such a thing, just paid for them. But tonight. Oh, tonight, I had wings.

Worlds flying like birds; my car's in flight. The city lights are spattered on my windshield like the fragments of the night. And I'm in flight. The sky's a wheel, a merry-go-round of wings and snow and steel, and fire. We'll tread the sky, we'll ride the scarlet horses- What wasthat ? A song-what-what-Silver's song.

I left the waiter robot and my unfinished coffine. I went into a booth and dialed Clovis.

"Infirmary," said Clovis, cautiously.

"Hallo," I said.

"Thank G.o.d. I thought it was Austin ringing back."

"Clovis," I said.

"Yes, Jane," said Clovis.

"Clovis," I said. "Clovis. Clovis."

A pause.

"What's the matter?" he asked me so gently his voice was, for a second, like the voice, the voice- "Clovis, you see-Clovis-Clovis-"

"Where's your mother?"

"She's-away. Clovis-"

"Yes, I'm Clovis. Where are you?"

"I can't remember. Yes. I'm in Jagged's. I'm in the restaurant."

"I'm not coming to get you, do you understand? Go down to the taxi-park. Get a cab and come here. If you're not here in ten minutes I'll worry. Jane?"

"Yes?"

"Can you do it?"

"Clovis! Oh, Clovis, black water's coming out of my eyes!"

"Your mascara is running."

"Oh-yes. I forgot I had any on." I laughed.

"Pull yourself together and get a taxi," he said.

I was quite calm and rather amused. I walked into the ladies room and washed my face, and then went down to the taxi-park. I looked at the wonderful star-fields of the city below, above and alongside. The city lights are spattered on my windshield-I'm in flight-we'll tread the sky- "Block 21, New River Road," I said to the driver, who was an astoundingly humanlike robot. "Good Lord," I said, waving my black nails at him, "you're almost as realistic as the special E.M. formats."

"Which?" he asked.

"Electronic Metals. Copper, Golder and Silver."

"Never heard of 'em."

"Have you ever been dismantled?"

"Not so you'd notice."

"I wonder what it's like. He looked so-he looked-"

"Could you please," he said, "not cry like that when you getout of the cab? It might be bad for business."

He was human of course, I'd forgotten about Jagged's gimmick line of real drivers.

He'd been more forbearing than Egyptia.

Lights. .h.i.t the windshield. We flew.

I managed to stop crying. The worst thing was not knowing why I was.

When I got up to the fifteenth gallery of Clovis's block, his door rushed open before I even spoke to it, set for sight. Clovis stood in the middle of the rug, barefoot, in a shower robe, frowning.

"He's dying," I said. "They're going to kill him."

The sedative Clovis gave me wasn't flavored. It had a bitter taste. I slept in the spare bedroom, which has black satin sheets, alternating with green or oyster satin sheets. The satin is a deliberate gesture, for you slide all night from one end of the bed to the other. Clovis usually makes his guests uncomfortable, in the hopes they'll soon go away. Drugged, I slept. When I woke up, he gave me China tea and an apple.

"If you can find anything to eat in the servicery, you can eat it."

Sleepwalking, drug-dazed, I found some instant toasts. Clovis stood in the doorway.

"I think I gave you too much Serenol. Do you remember what you told me last night? You were in very dramatic shock."

I watched the instant toast rising from the hot plate, and I saw two silver eye-sockets with wheels turning.

"No, I didn't give you enough Serenol," said Clovis, as I wept.

I had told him everything, sitting on his couch, giving a performance Egyptia might have envied.

"I'm surprised you went as far as you did," Clovis now said, handing me a large box of tissues, and removing the jumping toast from the floor. "Timid little Jane, confronting the might of Electronic Metals Ltd. What was the name of that prat?"

"Sw-Sw-Sw-"

"Swohnson, that's right. I'm quite looking forward to meeting him."

"What?"

"What?" Clovis copied my astonishment.

"Clovis, I can't go back. I can't do anything. I told him I was under eighteen. I haven't enough money.

And my mother wouldn't-"

"It's too boring to explain twice. Follow me."

Clovis walked back across the main living area and dialed a number on the videoless phone, turning up the sound reception as he did so.

I stood where he had in the servicery doorway, and presently I heard Egyptia's sultry, seductive, sleepy voice.

"Good morning, Egyptia."

"Oh G.o.d. Do you know what time it is. Oh, I can't bear it. Only an idiot would call at this hour."

"An idiot would be unable to use the telephone. I take it you were asleep."

"I never sleep." She yawned voluptuously. "I can't sleep. Oh Clovis, I'm terrified. Too terrified ever to sleep. I have a part. Theatra Concordacis are doingAsk the Peac.o.c.k For My Brother's Dust . They said only one person could play Antektra. Only I could play her. Only I had the resonance, the scope-But, Clovis, I'm not ready for it. I can't. Clovis, what shall I-"

"I'm going to buy you a lovely, lovely present," said Clovis.

"What?" she demanded.

"Jane tells me you're hooked on a robot."

"Oh! Oh, Clovis, would you? But, no. I can't. I have to concentrate on this part. I have to be celibate.

Antektra was a virgin."

"I'm happy to reveal I don't know the play."

"And Silver-he's called Silver-he is the most wonderful lover. He can-"

"Please don't tell me," said Clovis. "I shall feel inadequate."

"You'dlove him."