Mirror Space - Marianne de Pierres [49]
‘May I help you, Msr?’ The Lamin on the information booth straightened from where it had been crouched, folding pan-films into a case.
Thales shook his head, unable to muster polite conversation.
The Lamin regarded him with a shrewd look. It trotted over to its table and snatched up a small poster streaming advertising. ‘As my last visitor I would like to offer you a special diversion treatment with a new company on Edo called Ardour. Their clients are spread across many worlds. They cater to a wide variety of tastes, sir, and I’m told, are exceptionally good.’
As Thales touched the poster he felt the faint tingle of something soaking into his skin. Sensory Manipulative - Sen-Man - advertising was banned on Scolar.
He nodded and moved away from the booth. Once out of the Lamin’s sight he tried to throw the poster away but it stuck to his fingers. Embarrassed by the lewdness of the images streaming on it, he shoved it into his coat pocket and headed back to the taxi rank.
He had no idea where to go now. He knew no one here, other than Bethany, Lasper Farr and Tekton. Perhaps he should attempt to find a way into Farr’s laboratory? Or leave? But how would he pay his fare? Where would he travel to? Was his face healed enough to travel safely?
Amid the confusion of thoughts, his mind slipped repeatedly to the memory of Bethany, and the Mio slapping her with its fins - the glazed pleasure on her face as its teeth pulled at her skin.
It repulsed him and yet the tiny trickle of desire he’d felt seemed to have seeded, and be growing stronger by the moment. Had she somehow infected him with her sexual sickness? Or had the poster saturated him with aphrodisiacs?
The taxi requested a destination.
‘Here.’ On impulse he pulled the poster from his pocket and ran it under the scanner.
‘Certainly, sir. There will be no charge.’
Thales didn’t reply. Taxis did not charge anywhere on Edo. But Commander Farr liked to remind users of the fact. Instead he settled back against the seat and closed his eyes. With slow breaths and a simple counting exercise he tried to reach a meditative state, but the calm wouldn’t come to him.
He settled instead for a percolation of memories: Rene and Villon - anything but Bethany.
‘Destination arrival,’ said the taxi eventually.
Thales roused himself. It had stopped outside a wall of storage crates similar to those that Farr had first interviewed them in weeks - or was it months? - before. The higher ones were accessible by a portable elevator.
As if cued to the taxi, a door opened in one of the crates and a cream-suited ‘esque with long, smooth hair stepped out. He tapped on the window.
Thales pulled his skin mask up across the damaged section of his face and told the taxi to lower the window.
‘Do you have your invitation?’ the suited doorman asked.
Thales waved it and it flipped out of his hand, no longer sticky.
The doorman smiled and beckoned.
Thales had a fleeting moment of hesitation. He needed distraction. No, more than that. He needed to lose himself.
The first crate was an empty shell with filthy, scarred plas walls. To his relief the doorman led him straight through it into another.
The walls of this one - a waiting room of sorts - were blue-tinted and covered in screens running intimate shots of naked humanesques and aliens engaged in explicit sex acts. The images were so enlarged that Thales took refuge in their distortion.
‘Wait here. Your entertainer will come for you.’ The doorman pointed to the row of seats.
Thales sat nervously on one, avoiding eye contact with the other patrons. He sensed their curiosity at his diffidence. But even the floor was a screen, and he found himself staring at his own clenched fists. His conscience pricked at him. Was this the answer to his misery?
‘Good evening.’
Thales glanced up.
A beautiful, beautiful woman in a close-fitting dress and sharp heels stood looking down at him. Her age was impossible to decipher, but her long silken hair and sombre expression reminded him so much of Rene that he nearly cried aloud.
She saw his reaction.