Elvissey (5 page)

Read Elvissey Online

Authors: Jack Womack

"There's great unfairness in that," I said.

"Great unfairness in all," she said. "Regooding essentials
that those in Security must readjust, if regooding is to effect.
Cruelty no longer satisfies Dryco's intent. So says Seamus, at
Leverett's request."

Through Judy's wallwide windows I watched pigeons and
sparrows descending through clouds, swooping sillward, shelterbound. At touchdown they burst into blue bubbles;
their leavings feathered the air.

"Since regooding underwayed John's gone holloweyed
and withery," I said. "He'd have exed himself by now if we
hadn't volunteered."

"He was awared of Security's needs at time of hire," Judy
said. "Such deliberate positioning infers predisposing traits.
Disregarding one's own life essentials to enable the undertaking of others. Prior to regooding, Security readied its
members for their chosen hell, as was intended. Heaven
doesn't become them, Iz. You knew that when your wedlock
clamped."

"I never imagined this."

"Nor did I," she said. "Seamus reveals like patterns daily,
and his training never so thoroughed as John's, or the others. If your husband breaks, he breaks. Accept that."

"He's failing, however hard he tries," I said. "It's so hurtful to watch."

"Blind yourself," she said. "I disapproved from moment
primo, Iz. You deserved better. Where do they have him, this
morning?"

"Clinicking," I said. "My turn, after. Such an awful place.
Such awful people."

"Professionals all." She avoided my look. "So Leverett
reminds me when I mention your complaints. I've long suspected those in the clinic are hired once they're proved too
disturbed for Security. Still, this passage he's coursed for you
demands full health."

"Mental health, too?"

"Nonadherent to this project," she said. "Absolute madness. Nada comes of breaking a mountain over a mouse for
gravel."

"Mister O'Malley's unyielding?" I asked, relieved to assume that he still was.

"Leverett's silvertongued his ears shut."

Judy's surety in our project's purpose was considerably less than absolute. As her assistant, I was positioned prime
to take the bait before any others; but Leverett had, after all,
recommended that John and myself would be best suited for
assignment needs. As vice-president overseeing New Projects, Leverett had conceived not only the policy of regooding; he'd as well originated the concept of our mission,
bypassing Judy in mothering his idea, slipping it along to
Mister O'Malley direct. Judy controlled Mister O'Malley as
no others did; he'd bestowed full favor before she could call
halt.

"The sole plus," Judy said, "Leverett's so occupied by
these mechanics he hasn't time for his usual plots. He'll be
dealt out unless this results as he pretends."

"You're hostiling so," I said. "You weren't so upset earlier-"

"You're needed here," she said. "But he's got you in the
midst of this. You've unheeded all warnings-"

"My decision," I said. "We volunteered."

"At whose prompt?" she asked. "Your worser half's, or
mine?"

"My husband and I are mutualed. Change essentials,
Judy, but I don't wish to asunder, and he'll not last if we do."

"What fears you most, then?" she asked. "His desire to go,
or yours to accompany?"

"Neither," I said. "Both."

"You've worked for me too long-"

"There's much unsaid," I told her, unable to say what it
was. "We need togetherness. He's adrift unless I anchor," I
said. "We've never tripped in simulcast." Her stare evidenced no sign that she would ever comprehend my love for
John; so often, lately, I couldn't either. "I fear we'll return
unchanged, with finis stamped through and through."

"If you return."

"Judy-"

"Forgive," she said. "Danger overwhelms all aspects of
this. Pointless imbecilities."

"It does frighten at immediate level," I told her. "With
John unable to act as might essential-"

"That's unconcerning me," Judy said. "I've seen you both
act. His was learrned. Yours was born. If emergencies arise
over there, you'll handle. I've seen you handle before."

"Years before," I said. "I'm no child any longer, Judy."

"Known," she said. "Don't mirage yourself, Iz. Our beloved enhance bad so well as good. Certify whose thoughts
you're thinking before you act." Standing, she walked over
to embrace me. "You're missed," she said. "Such a color
you're turning, Iz." Her hand was dark against my cheek, as
it had never been before; the six weeks treatment of Melaway
they'd dosed me with had lightened my skin as if I'd been
painted with milk. "Plainly a sister still, and here you leave
two days hence. Problematic. That world's no place for our
people, and it'll do you no good to show. Biggerstaffll aware
you of that-"

"Leverett's told me of that. They all have," I said. "I've
inklings it's doing more than what's desired. Aches and
pains rack me. They deafen to my complaints at the clinic."

"Tell Leverett. He raves so of the drug's worth, and I'd
never heard tell of it. I suspect he'd like to dose me with it,
to lessen his discomfort when I direct him and his peers,"
she said, laughing. "Time's here, Iz. Fond farewells await."

"Mister O'Malley?" She nodded. "What're my lines?"

"Mute yourself. He's nonresponsive, lately, to most," she
said, stepping hallways; I flowed after her in her wake. "You
smile, I'll transmit."

AbandoningJudy's office, we drifted through Dryco's new
halls. A month before, as we underwayed our training, the
Bronx headquarters finally opened, and all operations up-
towned from Manhattan. The building's saffron spear
stabbed heaven, scattering clouds; appeared altitudinous
enough to be struck by rockets as yet unglared. Dryco Tower
epidermed perfect; its innards yet transitioned. Topladen
containments crowded passages, farragoed workstations cluttered all around; rugs awaited laying, charts wanted
posting. Not all elevators elevated, yet all yawned at command to admit the unwary. Three days earlier, an executive
marketeer in charge of Dryco's Indonesian sphere-suffering work-induced insomnia, entering her third foodless
day-had misstepped, and expressed one hundred floors;
incompany looselips gossiped that she dropped not by
chance, but choice. Regooded Dryco gifted her husband
with the cost of her urn.

"What's meant, he's nonresponsive?" I asked; wondered
what prevented her gown's hem from sweeping the floor as
she walked.

"He's introverting," she said. "He'll word me, or his sister,
or the damned computer-"

"Alice?"

"None other. Even when he words us, he words us sole in
Ambient talk."

"Serious?" When we were young we'd heard such talk,
down in old Loisaida, where they hid; in secreting their
gloriously misshapen husks from the world, Ambients secreted their speech as well, burying thought in the brambles
of a clotted argot. Some believed their cant melodied pure;
its garble headached me each time it hit my ear. None spoke
it any longer, I'd thought; weren't all Ambients, like
Loisaida, gone and lostaway for years? Certainly Ambients
would never have stood to be regooded.

"And so I reply likewise. And Alice now words to no one
but him. If I say something he chooses not to hear, he
deafens; Leverett's plugged him twiceover. So no one listens,
and sense goes unheard. Such complications madden, Iz.
Fuckall. A better job I'd choose, if I druthered. But then
Leverett would only see greater chance to grab. I'll see him
six under first."

"Then he's not speaking to Leverett-?" I asked.

"Never did," she said. "Leverett speaks, he listens. That's
what's downfalled."

Judy superiored Leverett, as she superiored all, though
he'd been the sole Dryconian who'd been at his position
since before her arrival. For years he'd worked his duties,
unseen and unheard; then at once some short time before,
he enlivened as if possessed, as if another had crept into his
bed one night to supplant his being as he slept.

"Where'll my office be?" I asked, realizing I'd not been
shown it during my initial visit. Judy didn't immediately
respond; waited until we turned a corner, and faced a humming white wall.

"We'll decide after this project's put down."

She twisted her bracelet, twice to the left and once to the
right. As the hum ceased the wall opened and Mister O'Malley's outer office revealed itself, free of furniture, executar-
ies, or any corporate accoutrements. Judy proclaimed our
arrival as we entered the space, shouting her name so that
those listening might hear.

"Avalon," a man's voice responded, crying out from unseen speakers. "Behold me."

Mister O'Malley's doors parted, sans sound; peering sanc-
tumways, we beheld. I'd not seen him in eighteen years; in
the old building his entrances and exits were separate from
all others. Here, twenty meters distant, he sat desked, staring
south through the glass behind him, across his Bronx garden toward a dozen multistory trellises with covers but halfencircling. We crossed a lake-size maroon rug isled with
stains of coffee. Dryco's owner was John's size squared; his
sagging shoulders and wrinklepuckered eyes falsified his
look as John's age quintupled. John had seven years advantage over his superior; or disadvantage, depending.

"Friends, Seamus?" asked a woman at Mister O'Malley's
deskside. His sister, of whom I'd often heard, though again,
never seen: as legended incompany, it passed that she'd
been in some way treated, and wasn't quite right. She evidenced more years than me, though like her brother she
might have held fewer; her biceps were larger than my thighs, and she could have tossed her sibling at command,
if she wished. Drapes of auburn hair curtained her eyes, and
her smile belied content.

"Friendsall, Enid," he told her, swiveling round to confront us; his voice-pitch was higher than his size would have
led to expect. "Tell," he said, regarding Judy.

"Watched pots ready to boil, Seamus," Judy replied. "Our
pigeons keen to fly. Pose last wishes, and so beglow the
chosen."

"Then give ear to the wind and hear the hurricane. Regooding demands redemption," he said, his stare losing its
focus in the gap between his eyes and ours. "Lovers love,
journeyending."

"He wishes well. Hopes all settles, husbandwise," she retold to me. Extending his hand, he motioned for us to come
forward; I noticed that his right forefinger lacked its first
knuckle. A micromonitor broke his desktop's plain; I estimated that daylong he gazed into Alice's blue mirror,
awaiting answers, perhaps recalling old secrets, slipping
away from the day. His sister's head jerked as she craned her
neck, as if her form were guided by strings. She spoke,
keeping an expression seeming tacked to her face.

"Who are your friends, Seamus?" she asked, with fourteen-year-old's apprehension; with taloned fingernails she
raked pink designs into her legs.

"Co-conspirators," he told her. "Night's fellow travelers."

"They go to your school?"

He nodded. "Our rails parallel at close range, commingling as one once horizoned."

"Word as preferred, Seamus," Judy said, her voice commanding obeisance. The company he kept was Dryco; as
CEO, the company was hers as well: Judy had heretofore
fulfilled all Mister O'Malley's wishes while furthering her
own designs; they had always symbiosed well. "Bestill all
fear. Grant your tongue to flap. The blind need one-eye
sight."

"Sight betroubles those who viz too clear," he said. "Pluck
loose lying eyes, and cast skull's dry sockets over green,
pleasant land."

"Seamus?" his sister interrupted, rubbing spittle-foam
from her grin's sharp points. "Lunchtime. Take us to
lunch."

"Hushabye, Enid," Mister O'Malley said; turning to us,
employed a softer voice. "Lookabout. This wicked world
befuddles master and servant likeminded. Chaos fences
tempers round. Millions cling to dead past longbegone,
sucking dead hosts, spending like moths in unseen flame."

"Old hinders new, flying in fact's face," Judy translated.
Time to move on."

"Elvii misbeliefs dry bones' marrow," he continued, "rend
purse and pocket. They convene their daft congress, heedless of our own sessions, wetdreaming absolution from one
incapable. Deadeyed to light, they opt for dark." He shook
his head. "Lemmings racing cliffways, and here we stand
stillfooted, marveling at the cold gray waste."

"E's fools breathe our needed air," Judy said. "Distract
multitudes with tales of vague return. Sense demands we
settle." She annotated with a whisper. "My sense says we'll
not."

"All Elvii bewail their lot," he said. "Grow bony by feasting on fancy. Digging oases of pain in deserts of comfort."
Mister O'Malley blinked, gazing into his desktop; stared
more intently, as if into a pool whose mirror, unexpectedly,
revealed another's reflection, one not immediately recognizable. "Such jabbernowling frets and hinders. Our good
works go out sans gratitude and all suffer. Therefore, if the
converted won't reconvert, their master, or one so guised,
should undertake to play our tune. A touch of truthache
essentials, lest sharper drama too soon becloak our stage,
and weary our watchers of our play."

"Options sole," said Judy, "our neck or theirs."

"Friends," his sister said, interrupting once more; a thread of spittle hung from her mouth. "Seamus, friends?"
"Friends. Yes, Enid," he sighed. "So if in seeking that

other world's obscure object you find him, then the Elvii's
savior can be awarded bespoken, and shall pronounce as we
wish, calming all with his words. His lightning rod shall
drain heaven's wrath, leaving sunlight clarified clear. Our
new dawn's fingers shall stroke with lover's touch until they
fade to black. The Elvii deserve their desired, as the brightminded deserve us." He eyeshut, as if to sleep, and dreama-
way; reawakening, he spoke of what he'd dreamed. "In the
gone world, similar once was tried, to sad result."

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