The Foreigners - Maxine Swann [22]
Only when I got very near did she look up. “Hey, you came!” she said.
“Yeah,” I said, as if there might have been some question. I looked around. “What’s going on?”
“It’s that group, Mercury. They do experiments. Everyone’s given a task. Or you can propose things. I proposed taking the Ebola virus and making it virtual. It’s been something I’ve wanted to try for a while. Here, this is Facundo. He’s developing a new form of digital animation.”
Facundo, thin with a shaved head and standing as he worked, gave me a nod.
“Why don’t you take a look around? I’ll finish up and we can go.”
I walked around. I passed the fine-featured woman with the orange hair who had been at the other meeting. She had a large set of earphones on and was listening with concentration, her eyes half closed. A small, round girl with a short fringe of bangs was peering at a monitor. Beside her were several iguanas in a glass cage with electrodes on their heads.
“What’s that girl doing with the iguanas?” I asked Leonarda as we were walking back across the muddy yard.
“She’s monitoring their sleep. Seems they only sleep with half their brains.”
“Why’s that?”
“Sleep’s dangerous, dude. They’re protecting themselves.”
“Hey, isn’t the Ebola virus lethal?”
“Duh,” she answered.
On the street again, Leonarda stopped and put down her bag. “Okay,” she said. She took off her hat and T-shirt—underneath she was wearing a black-and-green negligee—and got out her makeup case. “Here we are, back in Planet Gorgeous.”
I’m bringing you to a place where you can meet a ton of guys, okay?” Leonarda said. “Isn’t that what you want? To meet guys?”
I laughed. “Maybe,” I said. I hadn’t thought about it.
“C’mon.” She put her arm through mine and pulled me along.
The bar was in the center of town, Libertad Street. We went up a set of stairs and turned to the left and, indeed, the place was packed with men. The aesthetic was modern, glossy black tables, glass vases here and there containing single flowers on long stems. A silver bar stretched the length of the room. Courageous single women sat alone at the bar. The men milled around. They were in their thirties, forties, some looked older, a few preppy guys looked even younger. They were, on the whole, all dressed well and well-groomed.
Due to the no-smoking law recently passed in the city, the bar had constructed a little outdoor patio, a glass box, where you could still smoke. The box was dense with smoke. Here and there, you caught the shape of a head or limb pressed against the glass.
“Let’s sit at the bar,” Leonarda said.
“Are you sure?” I asked. I looked around. “But won’t people bother us?”
“Well, ye-ah. That’s the whole point. Guys will talk to us.”
I looked around again, thoroughly daunted by the prospect. It had been ten years since I’d been in this situation.
“C’mon,” she said, already sitting down.
We ordered cocktails, Leonarda, a strawberry daiquiri, a mojito for me.
“So how are you finding us aborigines?” she asked. She made the sign of a monkey, pretending to scratch an armpit with one hand. I’d noticed before that her armpits were shaved except for one dark tuft in the center.
I smiled. “Surprisingly advanced.”
“We’re so grateful to you for bringing us your wisdom. Listen, can you do me one favor? Don’t get all romantic about the crash, okay? Foreigners come here and they make a big deal. Then there are, like, these super-romantic newspaper articles in the foreign press about countries that otherwise never get discussed, like describing the apocalypse or whatever. When the point is this shit happens to us all the time. We’re used to it. Every eight years, there’s a crash. In eight years, there’ll be another crash. Big fucking deal.”
“Okay,” I said. It was true that I’d been having some romantic thoughts in this respect.
She looked at me differently. “Have you ever been close friends with a girl?” she asked.
“Yeah. Haven’t you?”
She shook her head, her face in this moment very