Slabscape : Reset Page 10

  He’d met a few people and found that the best thing to do was nod and not get too close. He got the feeling that privacy was important because everyone seemed to know who he was, but no-one approached him. He didn’t have a problem with that. He had Sis to talk to.

  Eventually, his brain struggled to take in anything new so he tubed it back to Seacombe for a few glasses of rat 3 red wine at an award-winning café overlooking a jogging park. He watched people exercising and felt happily absent for a while. The light was warm on his face and everything was fine.

  Nothing here felt out of place to him. Including himself. Social customs were easy to get along with and everything seemed to be geared toward making life easy. People were friendly but unintrusive, styles and fashions were subdued and comfortable. Everything seemed normal. But as he had no memories to compare anything to, he realised that even if something extraordinary had already happened, he would probably still have accepted it as normal. He wondered if something extraordinary had already happened. It didn’t feel as though it had, but how would he know? He decided not to worry about it. Life, after all, was just fine. More rat 3 please.

  Knowledge is a valuable thing. Knowledge, reasoning and experience are the three key ingredients of wisdom. However, the real wisdom is in knowing what questions to ask and how to ask them. If he had thought to ask Sis why he felt so relaxed and unfazed by such a barrage of new experiences, he would have discovered that he had been continually monitored for signs of anxiety or panic since he had started re-entry. Sis had been regularly administering a cocktail of calming drugs directly into his bloodstream via miniature intravenous emties. It was all part of the standard re-fam procedure. Of course, Dielle didn’t know that because it hadn’t occurred to him to ask what the standard re-fam procedure entailed. And the reason he hadn’t thought to ask what the standard re-fam procedure entailed, was because of the cocktail of calming drugs in his bloodstream.

  There is a popular saying onSlab: It isn’t knowing what you know, or knowing what you don’t know, it’s knowing what you don’t know you don’t know that matters.

  [[•]]

  {[Hmm?]}

  [‘Darling!’] Kiki. [‘Come home! I need to talk to you about tonight’]

  Yeah, he thought, I need to talk to you too. {[On my way]}

  He told Sis to take him home in privacy and dived into the nearest portal. Two days ago, he’d been terrified of the tube. Now he felt completely accustomed to it. He tried to see if his ass could hit the floor before the bubble grew a bench. It couldn’t.

  {[Can you show me the broadcast of me and Kiki from yesterday? The copulation scene]}

  [[Debit fee 25 credits; acknowledge approval]]

  {[I have to pay to watch myself?]}

  [[This sume is licensed via Pundechan Media and distributed through five wholesale aggregators to fifty-eight SlabWide sumecasters, all of whom own a micro portion of the income stream. As a performer, you will, of course, have your share of the fee instantly credited back into your account. Acknowledge approval]]

  {[How much do I get?]}

  [[The figure is a variable depending on provider, sume times, regions, media space prominence, side endorsements by market faction and cumulative escalators. Acknowledge approval]]

  {[What the fuck does all that mean? Can’t you tell me how much I get from paying 25 credits to watch my own stuff?]}

  [[In this particular instance the amount will be a little under 2 bucks after ExTax. Acknowledge approval]]

  {[Two bucks! Is that all?]}

  [[Note: The sume in question is just under 15 minutes edited duration and you are now 4.56 minutes from your destination. Do you still wish to view the material? Pundechan Media takes no responsibility for refunding fees for any part of the sume that is not sumed. Acknowledge approval]]

  {[Alright! Alright! I approve. Show me the . . .]} A close-up of his buttocks filled the screen.

  I don’t fucking approve at all, thought Dielle. Decent ass though.

  He stumbled into the apartment four and a half minutes later with a raging erection. Kiki was catching up on the latest war news but didn’t mind being distracted by Dielle lifting her up and turning her over. It didn’t take long.

  ‘Hmmm, that was nice,’ purred Kiki.

  ‘Yeah, a bit quick though. I bet I won’t make a buck a sume out of that one.’

  ‘Ah.’

  Dielle looked into her dark, stunning eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Ah.’

  Kiki rearranged her house-robe and sat up. ‘You don’t like the percentage?’

  ‘No, I don’t like the percentage! And I don’t like having my ass broadcast all over Slab without my permission and I don’t like being lied to!’ Dielle was trying to get angry about this but finding it very hard work. He wanted to give Kiki a hard time. After all, this was the woman he loved, who had betrayed him and exploited him. But somehow, every time he got angry, he felt fine about it.

  ‘I never lied to you!’

  ‘Nurse Pundechan? Is that Nurse Pundechan of Pundechan Media then? Do media enterprises here have many on-staff medical professionals?’

  ‘I am a nurse! I took a course! I have a certificate on file. You can check.’

  ‘So why are you a nurse when you run a media company? Business a bit slow is it?’

  ‘Business is great since you thawed out, darling! I knew you’d be a star, I just knew it! That’s why I took the nursing course and applied to St. Vincent’s when I found out they were ready to re-fam you.’

  ‘So the whole thing was a scam?’ He still couldn’t get angry no matter how hard he tried. He was even starting to see the funny side. ‘You use the re-fam thing to get clients?’

  ‘Client darling – just you. That’s all I need. I’ve been in this business for a long time. I only need one star. All those second-tier wannabees are nothing but gaps. I don’t waste my time with leaf-blowers. I’m a professional.’

  ‘Well, you’re a professional something, that’s for sure!’

  ‘Oh, that’s a good one!’ she beamed.

  Dielle stopped dead. He looked around. ‘Is all this being recorded now?’

  ‘Of course dear, everything onSlab is recorded all the time.’ She lowered her voice. ‘But don’t worry, we can edit that bit out before we release it. We’re not going out live at the moment.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘But I did get a pretty attractive offer today that might mean we could be going Slabwide constant live on a very big aggregator.’

  ‘But!’ cried Dielle, ‘I love you! How could you do this to me?’

  Kiki had tears in her eyes, which made them sparkle even more. Dielle instantly worried that he’d gone too far. If he had known that the real reason she was tearing up was because she knew just how many extra sumers an outburst like that was going to generate tomorrow, he probably wouldn’t have said what he was about to say. He took Kiki in his arms. She looked suddenly vulnerable, fragile and very beautiful.

  ‘I’m sorry darling,’ he said, kissing away her tears. ‘It’s all been a bit of a shock, that’s all.’

  Dicing hell, this is gold! thought Kiki, cancelling a meeting with a prospective writing team.She broke away from what was turning into a passionate kiss, reluctant to lose the potential income another quickie would bring in, but not wanting to be late.

  ‘Darling, we have to go,’ she said, grabbing a bag and pulling him toward the tube portal. ‘We don’t want to keep the president waiting.’

  ‘The president?’ said Dielle inside their privacy bubble. ‘Slab has a president? I thought everything was run by Sis.’

  ‘Well, yes, of course it is dear,’ she said, stripping off. She took two palm-sized disks out of her bag, reached up to stick one on the roof and put the other one on the floor. ‘Come on, you can’t meet the president smelling like you’ve just had sex.’

  Hot, sparkling water gushed from the top emti and drained away through the one on the floor. A portable shower, thought Dielle, just what every girl
-about-Slab should have in her handbag. He shed his clothes and joined Kiki as soapy bubbles started to fill the air.

  ‘So we’ve been invited to a party with the president,’ said Dielle. ‘Cool! What’s the occasion?’

  ‘It’s just a regular NewCyke party, but only a small group of really famous people generally get invited. It’s huge!’

  ‘Small and huge?’

  ‘Small as in very few celebrities, huge as in sume figures. Everyone watches the president’s parties darling! We’ll only get a tiny percentage of the income, but it’s still going to be very serious wonga!’ Kiki formed a circle with the forefinger and thumb of her right hand and made a side to side movement. ‘I could go back to Aux Renoir tomorrow and double our deal, lookadat!’

  ‘You really do know about all this deal stuff, don’t you?’ said Dielle. He was beginning to realise he’d fallen into some very skilled hands.

  ‘They don’t call me Tiger for nothing, dear!’ said Kiki, standing on tiptoes to kiss him on the nose. The water stopped abruptly and both emties blasted the pair with warm air. Kiki grabbed her handbag, took out a white block of chamoist and gave it to Dielle. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Put this on. We’ll change into our party clothes when we get there.’ She took out another block and shook it out into the shape of a body suit. Dielle copied her and put his on. The material simultaneously dried and moisturised his skin with invigorating oils. Kiki collected the shower emties and popped them into her bag.

  ‘That’s a very handy bag you have there,’ said Dielle.

  ‘Just a portable emti, darling,’ said Kiki, taking out a large hairbrush and then a mirror that expanded in her hand. She brushed her long black hair, which immediately dried to a fine shine. ‘I’ve ordered you a really nice suit in variable reds. It’s designed by a ridiculously expensive designer friend of mine who insisted you have it for nothing. That’s what happens when you get invited to a presidential party.’

  They arrived at the reception area, a large, circular space with a deep blue Soffen floor which absorbed the room’s ambient sounds and the momentum of anyone who walked on it. The walls and ceiling glowed with a soft light that grew in intensity from the floor to a slender, motile sculpture which hung from the centre of an ornate dome. Kiki lead him to a bank of dressing rooms.

  Dielle looked around at the deserted corridors.

  ‘Shouldn’t there be someone here to welcome us?’

  ‘What for, dear?’

  ‘Security I guess.’

  ‘Sis controls all onSlab security, darling, what use would a human be? We wouldn’t have been brought here if we hadn’t been invited.’

  ‘Well, we could be assassins or something.’

  ‘The assassins have their own entrance but I don’t think any are coming tonight.’ She pushed him into an open cubicle. ‘You use this one dear, I’ll meet you in the pre-bar. Just go through the opposite vex and Sis will lead you straight there.’ She gave him a peck on the cheek and disappeared in to the room next door.

  As the transvex darkened behind him, the lights came on and Dielle found the suit waiting for him in the emti closet. He tried it on. Shades of sensual reds rippled through the thick, velvety fabric as he moved. A pair of knee-high, blood-red boots complemented the suit along with a wide-brimmed hat which seemed to reflect light that wasn’t actually there. It felt refreshingly cool on his head. A flap of fine gauze hung from the brim to the nape of his neck. He admired himself in a full-length multimirror.

  [[•]]

  {[Yup?]}

  [[You have the hat on back to front]]

  An animation superimposed on his reflection. The flap was supposed to cover his face. He turned it to match the image. From his point of view, the material became transparent but his face in the mirror was traced by flowing patterns of subtly pulsating light. It made him look god-like. He stared at his reflection.

  He suddenly felt very small and isolated. How could he, a five-day-old 27-year-old have wound up at a presidential party on a gigantic spaceship hurtling towards an impossibly distant destination?

  He dumped the chamoist body suit into a large hamper and immediately re-opened the lid to check if it was still there. It wasn’t. He wondered idly what would happen if he climbed into the hamper.

  The sound of laughter outside distracted him. A drink, he thought, heading toward the noise, I need a good strong drink.

  Dielle followed the sounds into a room packed with hundreds of laughing, chattering people. Two of Slab’s top LightHarpists filled the space with exquisite contrapuntal melodies which, due to the tuned acoustic absorbers in the low ceiling, easily dominated the muffled murmur of the crowd.

  [[Entering smooze: standard rules apply]]

  {[~?]}

  [[A smooze is a formally delineated space for conversation of a superficially social nature which is in actuality a front for exploring the underlying potential for interesting and/or valuable transactions. Standard rules are currently in force in this smooze, which means that all recordings are strictly non-publishable without the registered compliance of all parties involved and all agreements are contractually non-binding]]

  A troupe of dancers clad in identical iridescent-green, gender-concealing bodysuits flitted between islands of half-sunken couches talking to guests and dispensing snacks and drinks from the emtiwaiters embedded into the upholstery.

  One of them appeared before him in a flurry of whirling arms and legs.

  ‘Welcome to Dielle,’ said the sparkling creature in a soft voice which didn’t help nail the gender ambiguity. It bowed flamboyantly. ‘I am sylph.’ No help there either. ‘May I introduce you to one of your choosing? There are twelve social invitations already on file for you with an additional four just posted as you entered the smooze.

  ‘Well, I’m kind of . . . waiting for my . . . friend.’ Dielle was having trouble simultaneously coordinating his mouth, brain and eyes because a goddess was striding toward him. Her perfectly symmetrical face was framed by a mane of long, white hair which flowed and wound itself around her expertly sculpted curves. Every move she made was a minutely choreographed ritual, echoing genetic programmes which had been running continuously for hundreds of thousands of years. Her deep, golden eyes widened and her mouth parted just enough to reflect the ambient light off the glistening, micro-enhanced surface of her lips. She was a work of sexual art (the artist was currently turning down business in the next smooze). Her golden gown clung to every sensuous outline of her body and he would have found her distracting in any circumstance, but there was something else: whenever his eyes darted to her lavishly proportioned chest, the fabric seemed to melt away, revealing a pair of multi-award winning breasts.

  ‘Dielle, I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you.’ She put out her hand as the sylph glisséed silently away. ‘Van Darwin, Faith-Sincere, in case you haven’t already asked Sis.’ No I hadn’t, something must have caught my attention, thought Dielle.

  ‘Just call me either Faith or Sin, depending on your point of view.’

  The point of his view was more than obvious. He tried hard to control his eyes but they had a life of their own. Her laugh, like a lot of things about her, was generous.

  ‘You are quite a star, you know,’ she said. ‘I’m a big fan of yours already.’

  ‘Faith,’ said a cold voice beside him. It was Kiki. ‘Drumming up business? I thought you were booked solid for the cycle already?’

  Faith-Sincere’s eyes hardened to a professional smile. ‘Tiger! Darling! How are you? You must be exhausted!’ She reached out and put a delicate hand on Dielle’s velvety jacket which swirled and danced different shades of red around her palm. ‘He’s such a handful, darling!’

  ‘Not just a handful. Darling.’ Kiki had to force that last word through clenched teeth. ‘Do I see Admiral Massive over there?’

  Faith-Sincere, assuming a joke, casually looked around. Over in a corner was a crowd of excited people surrounding the lantern-jawed hero in a flash
y uniform. ‘Lookadat! He never comes to parties!’ She turned back. ‘Excuse me Dielle, I really would love to talk to you later if that’s OK with you.’ She smiled and then nodded at Kiki. ‘Tiger . . . ’ She span round and hurried off to join the growing crowd.

  ‘Hah!’ said Kiki. ‘That bitch!’

  ‘She seemed pretty nice to me,’ said Dielle wistfully.

  ‘Yeah! I bet! I suppose you could see her breasts?’

  ‘Well, yes. Rather nice they were too.’

  ‘Thought so. She’s wearing Reveal; it goes transparent when someone looks at it, but only if the viewer has been granted permission by the wearer. So you get to ogle her designer tits while all I could see was a dress on a tart.’

  ‘I could see them because she let me?’

  ‘Of course! Can you guess what she let me see?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Her bare ass as she flounced off!’ Kiki was incensed.

  Dielle hadn’t been able to see her bare ass. Pity, he thought, nice ass too. He turned to look at Kiki and did a double take.

  ‘You look . . . ’ He tried to look her up and down. It wasn’t easy. ‘Missing!’

  Kiki’s neck and face were floating above a pair of mirrored shoes. Where her body should have been was a kind of sheen through which he could see a distorted view of everything behind her.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘It’s a C-thru,’ she said proudly. ‘It’s really expensive. I ordered it especially for the party. It has micro-image sensors woven into the fabric right alongside micro-projectors, so when you look at it you see a projected image of whatever is directly behind. It works like the light transmitters under buildings. You know how you can see the sky through overhead buildings? It’s the same principle.’

  ‘That’s amazing,’ said Dielle, reaching out and waving his hand behind her back to test the effect.

  ‘It’s a bit hot, though, and they haven’t got the gloves right yet.’ She waved her hands in front of his face. All he could see was a blur of background colours distorted in the approximate shape of hands.