Dreams of Sex and Stage Diving by Martin Millar Page B

again.

thirty-three
    ARAN HAD FINISHED reading Herodotus. Having already read Thucydides and Xenophon he was now a knowledgeable man when it came to Ancient Greek historians and he was armed with many long anecdotes about Athenians, Spartans and Persians. This was not necessarily good news for the rest of the world but Aran was always willing to try. When Elfish arrived he started right in with an account of the overthrow of Croesus, King of Lydia. Elfish immediately put up a strong defence, telling him that she had no time to listen to a tale about the overthrow of Croesus, King of Lydia, as she was visiting with the express purpose of learning her speech.
    â€œIt’s a very good story.”
    â€œNo doubt, but some other time. The gig is in five days. Even now Mo’s band is practising and I must make some progress. Help me learn.”
    Aran was not enthralled with the prospect. He had not yet given up all hope of relating the story of Croesus, King of Lydia, and tried to reintroduce the subject, but his sister judiciously disengaged his attention from the ancient world by asking him about his cigarette card collection.
    â€œHow many do you have now?”

    â€œTwelve. Well, I’ve got more than twelve, but lots of them are doubles. I have twelve different ones. I estimate that I will be able to claim my five pounds reward very soon. Do you want to see them?”
    â€œLater. Now I want to learn the speech.”
    â€œWell, all right. Shakespeare it is. What is that smell?”
    â€œProbably me,” admitted Elfish. “After drinking all that whisky last night I wet myself. I’ll have a bath later. Well, maybe. If I have time.”
    Elfish found it hard to focus her attention because she was currently working on another problem, that of Aisha. She had contacted the painter, confidently expecting to find her in her usual nervous and distressed state, in which she should be easily manipulable. Unfortunately for Elfish, Aisha seemed quite happy. Her boyfriend Mory had returned.
    This was bad news for Elfish because not only was Aisha too happy to be easily manipulated, she was too busy working on a joint project with Mory to paint a backdrop. Unfortunately for Aisha, Elfish had now determined to have the backdrop and was already making plans.

thirty-four
    AS A PASSENGER on the raft, Bomber Harris was no more cheerful than anyone else. He was depressed because so many people criticised him for destroying Dresden in an enormous bombing raid during the Second World War.
    Opinion on the raft was divided. Pericles and Cleopatra thought that destroying an enemy city in wartime was an entirely sensible thing to do but Botticelli and Mick Ronson were unhappy about all the civilians who had been killed.
    Here Aran intended to move his game into intellectual spheres by making the players become involved in a moral argument, but when he actually tried to do it it did not seem so easy. He sat grappling with the concept but after a few moments he found his attention wandering. Typing moral arguments into his terminal was frankly boring.
    To hell with it, he thought, abandoning the idea, and sending in another squadron of screaming gryphons to harass the raft.
    In the midst of the battle a new character appeared.
    â€œI demand to know what I am doing on this raft,” said Shonen, and vomited over the side, watched by an unsympathetic Pericles.
    â€œHow’s the theatre group going?” asked Mick Ronson.

    â€œTerribly,” replied Shonen.
    â€œWell, I guess that’s what you’re doing here.”
    Shonen thought for a moment.
    â€œBut Elfish is going to help me to be successful.”
    â€œThat’s what you think,” muttered Aran, and laughed along with his scratchy tape of the Fall’s “League Moon Monkey Mix.”
    This amused Aran for a while, programing in Shonen and Aisha as unwitting victims, but later he removed them in case Elfish found out and was