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- Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo
- Path: sparky!uunet!pipex!warwick!coventry!gdg019
- From: gdg019@cch.coventry.ac.uk (Ridley McIntyre)
- Subject: STORY: MONKEYTRICK [revised] (4/6)
- Message-ID: <C1EJKn.9sv@cck.coventry.ac.uk>
- Keywords: Rat 2.4
- Sender: news@cck.coventry.ac.uk (news user)
- Nntp-Posting-Host: cc_sysh
- Organization: Fifth Column, Coventry, UK
- Date: Mon, 25 Jan 1993 08:57:58 GMT
- Lines: 146
-
- MONKEYTRICK - by Ridley McIntyre
-
- 4. Shock The Monkey.
-
- The living room smells of plastic roses which invades Dex's nostrils and causes
- his over-worked breathing to calm down.
-
- "I thought you were dead, Dex. Then it told me you were still alive. It
- knew you'd come here." Her voice is sweet, carried along by the warm rose air.
- It has a strange tinny quality to it that never used to be there, but it's her
- voice. Her tones.
-
- She walks about the room with a resigned comfort, like a prisoner walks
- around her cell. This room has become something she's used to, something she
- wants out of but she knows her place now. And it is here. Dex reads all that
- from the look in her eyes when she turns to him.
-
- "I'd give you a hug, Dex, but I can't touch you."
-
- He sits on the right arm of a black leather sofa and rubs his face. "This
- is going to sound shitty, I know. I know you as Pain, but that's not your
- name is it? I mean, whenever I became close to you in the dream, I..."
-
- She moves away from him. "You went into convulsions. It was part of the
- program."
-
- Dex shakes his head as she takes an apple from a fruit bowl on the black
- plastic sideboard and nips a small bite from it. He looks back at the bowl
- and another has appeared to take it's place.
-
- "Like this one?" Dex asks finally. "I mean, that's what this is, right?
- A construct of your father's living room with you in it."
-
- She talks through gritted teeth. "This isn't a construct, Dex. This is
- *me*. Rhea has stolen my body and now I'm here."
-
- ***
-
- "So you say he'll lead us to it?"
-
- Sarah squirms nervously in a brown leather office chair, her face contorted
- into a squint as the sun's light diffuses across the tower's windows. She nods
- to her skinny superior.
-
- "I think of him more as bait, Mister Shelley. He'll lure Rhea to where we can
- find it," she says.
-
- The skinny man in the tan-brown suit takes a drag from a slender Havana cigar,
- as he exhales, every swirl of the grey smoke seems to tumble through the hard
- rays of light through that large window.
-
- "A monkeytrick," he says softly to himself. It's a business term for using
- outside agents to steal data, knowing that the agent will die at the end.
- If something goes wrong, then the company involved loses nothing. If it works,
- it gains everything. He touches a screen on the long, brown trapezoid desk and
- the screen is alive with the chubby face of his secretary. "Bring in Mister
- Hix," he says to the screen and the face fizzes to black.
-
- "What of the other boy? Motorhead."
-
- She shrugs. "Motorhead was Dex's idea. I didn't have any plans for him."
-
- The man in the tan-brown suit pouts and rocks back and forth slightly on his
- booted heels. "I'll leave him be for now, then. Until he makes a mistake. Then
- I'll hammer him down with the rest. You've done a good job, Sarah. Go back to
- Milton Keynes and do some real work."
-
- Mister Hix is a skinny young man in a cheap polyester suit. A man who smells
- of the Outzone. She passes him on the way out and he smiles to her, showing
- yellow teeth. She reckons he thinks she's another secretary.
-
- Alone in the Executive Elevator, she looks out over the zones she's growing
- accustomed to, realising how much she hates her position. She has so much power,
- but she knows so little, and that's what counts in the Secure Zone. Out there,
- in the Outzone, she's something, but up in that office, she's just like Dex.
- Bait. Thinking of Shelley's words. 'Leave her be for now. Until she makes a
- mistake.' And that's all she is. Another monkey waiting to be tricked.
-
- ***
-
- Dex taps a beat on the back of the sofa with his fingers. "Why don't I
- remember your name?"
-
- "You don't want to," she answers. Then she takes another small bite from
- the apple. "Oh, it's not your fault. Your memory brought me into the program,
- and I shouldn't have been there. So they erased me. I asked Rhea while it was
- destroying me."
-
- She walks over with silent footsteps. "Don't you remember? You saved my
- life once before. I'm Kayjay."
-
- ***
-
- Sarah dreams of the London Outzone. Her visions of the place are romanticised,
- a soft-focus world of crying babies and neo-medievalism. Better still, this is
- the place that created Dex and Motorhead. Now it's her ideas that have destroyed
- the former, and her ways that will ultimately destroy the latter.
-
- She dreams of Motorhead's ignorance. She knows he's a fast and sharp kid, who,
- if he were brought up in the right place - the Secure Zone - he would be higher
- than she is by now.
-
- She dreams of monkeys and tigers. Monkeys in the trees, laughing and chattering
- and living a simple existence. And down on the jungle floor, the tigers wait
- so patiently for them to fall.
-
- ***
-
- The monkey's days are finally over.
-
- "You have to go, Dex. You weren't meant to be here."
-
- "But I can't go back until I know what happened."
-
- She points a slender finger at Dex's chest. "You're dying up there. The witch-
- hole's got you."
-
- "Not me... you. What happened with you and Rhea?"
-
- "Rhea used me. It copied me into the system and unloaded itself into my brain.
- Right now, it's in an intensive care ward in the Smallpox Hospital, using my
- body to escape. It just broke free of it's position, found me attached to all
- those ECG trodes and got started. But there's one thing he did first."
-
- "What?"
-
- "It told me the real reason why Vijayanta want it so badly."
-
- ***
-
- Back in Motorhead's living room, the convulsions finally stop. The screen
- of the Fednet PC sprays white noise static into the room. Motorhead, who had
- spent the best part of three minutes trying to keep the Boy from damaging
- himself too much or swallowing his tongue or drowning in his own vomit, finally
- gives up.
-
- A pounding thunder in his skull, he searches the flat for some painkillers or
- anything, but he is fresh out of luck and drugs. Deciding he needs some air,
- he grabs his baseball jacket and runs out of the flat.
-
- (c) COPYRIGHT 1993 BY RIDLEY MCINTYRE
- --
- ____ @ | | Ridley McIntyre - gdg019@cck.cov.ac.uk | EARTH CALLING |
- | __| | Piglet 8@) - On a Flowery Space Trip! | ANGELA: "Her black |
- | | | | | "NAPOLEON!!!" - "AAAAAIIEE!!" | hair flowing like |
- | | |__| | - a rather visual Tank Police joke | an acid river" |
-