Chaos Space - Marianne de Pierres [91]
‘Your blessings?’ Rasterovich gave a strident laugh that was almost a shout.
Mira held her breath, unsure what he would do next.
But Lasper Farr had settled back in his chair. ‘No need for dramatics, God-Discoverer. My proposal is an arrangement for mutual benefit. Simple—and elegant. . .’
JO-JO RASTEROVICH
Jo-Jo wanted to murder Carnage Farr right then; strangle the hero of the Stain Wars until his tongue protruded and his eyelids fell still in death.
From the moment Jo-Jo’s feet had touched this rotating scrap heap he’d felt uneasy. Now, staring across at Farr, he knew that he’d give a testicle to be back on Jandowae station.
Right now he wanted to stuff his fist so far down Farr’s throat that he could squeeze the man’s balls with his fingers.
Even more compelling, though, was his desire to agree to Farr’s demands. Not because of Carnage’s promise to find Tekton, or because he was frightened of the lunatic, but because Mira Fedor needed protection.
How fucking ridiculous! He’d met her only a few hours ago.
The intensity of his emotion sent Jo-Jo’s mind sliding apart like two pieces of slippers sliced fruit. Not sure what else to do, he listened to the discussion that started up between his inner voices.
The loudmouth of the two had a plan: Pretend to go along with Farr’s wishes and then bail out at the first res station. Catch a ride to Belle-Monde and track down Tekton. It’s the logical course to take and the safest. Carnage Farr is insane and best avoided—
No! cried the other voice. You will never see her again.
Jo-Jo’s mouth opened and words came out. ‘Prove that you can help me locate Tekton and you’ve got a deal.’
Lasper Farr drained his drink and leaned forward. ‘I’m not in the habit of proving myself to anyone, Mr Rasterovich. But for the sake of expediency I will make an exception.’ He took a small tubal inhaler from his pocket. ‘Breathe deeply.’
Jo-Jo took the object and clipped the tube to the skin that separated his nostrils. He squeezed one end and the inhaler discharged its contents into his nose.
His transition into a virtual space was sharp: instantaneous, in fact. Farr was in the same chair but the marquee had disappeared, leaving a darkened space. Jo-Jo’s viewpoint had also altered. He was alongside Farr instead of opposite him.
A sprinkle of lights began to grow in the darkness around them: a beautiful intricate patterning of colours that pulsed and flickered and wound around each other as if connected by an infinite number of lines.
As Jo-Jo studied the delicate knots and loops he noticed tiny colourful explosions occurring among them: miniature supernovas. Some became subsumed by what was already there; others thinned and extruded into new webs.
‘A small window will open in the corner of your vision. It will isolate one of the tiny eruptions you can see. Concentrate on it for a few seconds.’
Jo-Jo did as Farr instructed. He felt himself drawn forward towards the eruption which grew in magnitude until the brightness became a pure white brilliance that blinded him. His eyes burned and mucus trickled down onto his upper lip. He wanted to wipe it but he didn’t dare move.
The whiteness suddenly resolved into shapes that he recognised. A ship’s bridge.
Salacious?
Jo-Jo knew his ship immediately—but not the ‘esque with the cold blank stare who lounged on the captain’s platform. Then it faded. More images followed in a sequence that made no sense to him: a water-planet panorama, small aqua-creatures, one of the same creatures being dissected, and, finally, night combat in a jungle. Three shadowy figures crawling on their bellies—a balol and two humanesques—leaving mines for their enemy to trip. There was something familiar about them all...
‘Closer.’ He spoke the word without thinking.
The virtual progression threw him forward again.
Suddenly he was lying on the jungle floor, his fingers deep in slimy moss, his foot tangled in vines. The air was so damp that he could barely breathe. An insect crawled between his shoulder blades, biting him.
The figures on either