Moxyland - Lauren Beukes [19]
'Should I call you when the food is here?' she chirps.
'You got edibles coming?' Toby perks up. I might have suspected he would have the munchies.
'Straight from Communique's premier chefs.'
We traipse into my room and I close the door. Toby unpeels, weaseling out of the skintight suit that protects him from all the pollutants in the water. He's not wearing anything underneath.
Jane assumes we fuck, but Toby and I worked that out of our systems years back. And besides, he's too promiscuous. I know that sounds hypocritical coming from me, but I'm careful. I throw the towel at him.
'You're still not eating enough.'
'Girls like a boy on the skinny. And besides, it's not insufficient food. It's oversurplus drugs.'
'Speaking of which.'
Toby grins, and like a cheap magician, summons a joint of sugar between his fingers. But when I reach for it, he holds it above his head.
'Uh-uh. Did you get it?'
'Maybe. You gonna tell me what's in the bag?'
'Maybe,' he shoots back. I pass him a lighter, and all play is put aside as he sucks the joint to life.
'Do you ever worry about her?' He jerks his head at the door.
'Uh. No.'
'Surely, surely, sugar and, hmm, let me see…' He sniffs delicately at the length of the joint, takes a long drag and smacks his lips together, playing connoisseur. 'Just a hint of vanilla and a touch of bliss isn't exactly on the employee preapproved list?'
'Stop fooling and hand it over.'
'Only if you tell me you got it.'
'Only if you tell me what's in the bag.'
'Ah. Seems we're stalemated.' He waggles the joint. I ignore it, nudge the neoprene with my foot. Then I look up at him coyly through my lashes. This is an old game we play, practically choreographed.
'What do you think?'
He tackles me, knocking me back onto the bed and pinning my arms above my head. 'You incredible woman.' He moves as if to kiss me, trying his luck as if the final play wasn't already pre-determined, and I twist my head away and take a drag from the joint still pincered between his fingers instead. He mock-sighs and lets up. 'You used to be so much fun.'
'And you used to be not such a drugged-out freak. Put that away. And put some clothes on. I assume you brought clothes?'
He gets sulky and crouches down beside his pack, turning his back on me. As he starts unzipping the bag, it jolts and struggles. A scrimmage ensues.
'Shit!' Toby falls backwards onto his ass as a VIMbot shoots across the room and under my bed. I yelp and pull my feet up, laughing. 'Toby! What was that?'
'My new friend. I liberated him.'
'How do you know it's a him?'
'I would never have gone for a female. Too troublesome.'
I stick my head over the edge of the bed. The VIMbot is already at work, rustling the dust bunnies.
'Tobe. I can't help but notice that this particular VIMbot appears to have the Communique logo on it.'
'Yeah, like I said, I liberated him. Just like I'm gonna liberate you one day: storm into the cursed citadel, slay the vile monsters or, you know, Jane, and carry you off.'
'To your shitty swivel with the rest of civilian humanity.'
'Hey, don't knock the swivel. I get a view at least a fifth of the time.'
'And motion-sick the rest.' His rotating apartment, designed to maximise space, makes me dizzy.
'I like the revolving. It's like being on a ride. All the time.'
'Thanks for the offer, the noble knighthood thing. But I'll pass.'
'Okay, you wanted to know my motivation? It's revenge.'
'Oh. Right. I see. You kidnapped a VIMbot because you resent Communique's security policies?'
'Not just Communique, Lerato. Every corporation! Let every multinational conglom quake in fear, for the people have spoken! Dredge humanity is banding together, taking a stand for freedom, truth, equality – and the right to buy Fong Kong brands.'
'A noble cause indeed. But I'm not buying the whole Fong Kong cheap rip-off pledge, considering you're wearing a thirty grand BabyStrange chamo coat. Please.'
'Okay, all right. I needed some