meter between his ankles and the still figure.
“Gentry, you sure you maybe don’t wanna go back up? I think that derm … Maybe you
did too much.”
“Really?” Gentry cocked his head, his eyes glittering in the yellow glow. He winked.
“Why do you think that?”
“Well,” Slick hesitated, “you aren’t like you usually are. I mean, like you were before.”
“You think I’m experiencing a mood swing, Slick?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m
enjoying
a mood swing.”
“I don’t see you smiling,” Cherry said from the door.
“This is Gentry, Cherry. Factory’s sort of his place. Cherry’s from Cleveland.…”
But Gentry had a thin black flashlight in his gloved hand; he was examining the trode-net
that covered the sleeper’s forehead. He straightened up, the beam finding the featureless,
unmarked unit, then darting down again to follow the black cable to the trode-net.
“Cleveland,” Gentry said at last, as though it were a name he’d heard in a dream.
“Interesting …” He raised his light again, craning forward to peer at the point where
the cable joined the unit. “And Cherry—Cherry, who is
he
?” the beam falling hard on the wasted, irritatingly ordinary face.
“Don’t know,” Cherry said. “Get that out of his eyes. Might screw up his REM or something.”
“And this?” He lit the flat gray package.
“The LF, Kid called it. Called him the Count, calledthat his LF.” She thrust her hand inside her jackets and scratched herself.
“Well, then,” Gentry said, turning, click as the beam died, the light of his obsession
burning bright, bright behind his eyes, amplified so powerfully by Kid Afrika’s derm
that it seemed to Slick that the Shape must be right there, blazing through Gentry’s
forehead, for anyone at all to see except Gentry himself, “that must be just what
it is.…”
11
DOWN ON THE DRAG
Mona woke as they were landing.
Prior was listening to Eddy and nodding and flashing his rectangular smile. It was
like the smile was always there, behind his beard. He’d changed his clothes, though,
so he must’ve had some on the plane. Now he wore a plain gray business suit and a
tie with diagonal stripes. Sort of like the tricks Eddy’d set her up with in Cleveland,
except the suit fit a different way.
She’d seen a trick fitted for a suit once, a guy who took her to a Holiday Inn. The
suit place was off the hotel lobby, and he stood in there in his underwear, crosshatched
with lines of blue light, and watched himself on three big screens. On the screens,
you couldn’t see the blue lines, because he was wearing a different suit in each image.
And Mona had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing, because the system had a cosmetic
program that made him look different on the screens, stretched his face a little and
made his chin stronger, and he didn’t seem to notice. Then he picked a suit, got back
into the one he’d been wearing, and that was it.
Eddy was explaining something to Prior, some crucial point in the architecture of
one of his scams. She knew how to tune the content out, but the tone still got to
her, like he knew people wouldn’t be able to grasp the gimmick he was so proud of,
so he was taking it slow and easy, like he was talking to a little kid, and he’d keep
his voice low to sound patient. It didn’t seem to bother Prior, but then it seemed
to Mona that Prior didn’t much give a shit what Eddy said.
She yawned, stretched, and the plane bumped twice on runway concrete, roared, began
to slow. Eddy hadn’t even stopped talking.
“We have a car waiting,” Prior said, interrupting him.
“So where’s it taking us?” Mona asked, ignoring Eddy’s frown.
Prior showed her the smile. “To our hotel.” He unfastened his seatbelt. “We’ll be
there for a few days. Afraid you’ll have to spend most of them in your room.”
“That’s the deal,” Eddy said, like it was his idea she’d
“Gentry, you sure you maybe don’t wanna go back up? I think that derm … Maybe you
did too much.”
“Really?” Gentry cocked his head, his eyes glittering in the yellow glow. He winked.
“Why do you think that?”
“Well,” Slick hesitated, “you aren’t like you usually are. I mean, like you were before.”
“You think I’m experiencing a mood swing, Slick?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m
enjoying
a mood swing.”
“I don’t see you smiling,” Cherry said from the door.
“This is Gentry, Cherry. Factory’s sort of his place. Cherry’s from Cleveland.…”
But Gentry had a thin black flashlight in his gloved hand; he was examining the trode-net
that covered the sleeper’s forehead. He straightened up, the beam finding the featureless,
unmarked unit, then darting down again to follow the black cable to the trode-net.
“Cleveland,” Gentry said at last, as though it were a name he’d heard in a dream.
“Interesting …” He raised his light again, craning forward to peer at the point where
the cable joined the unit. “And Cherry—Cherry, who is
he
?” the beam falling hard on the wasted, irritatingly ordinary face.
“Don’t know,” Cherry said. “Get that out of his eyes. Might screw up his REM or something.”
“And this?” He lit the flat gray package.
“The LF, Kid called it. Called him the Count, calledthat his LF.” She thrust her hand inside her jackets and scratched herself.
“Well, then,” Gentry said, turning, click as the beam died, the light of his obsession
burning bright, bright behind his eyes, amplified so powerfully by Kid Afrika’s derm
that it seemed to Slick that the Shape must be right there, blazing through Gentry’s
forehead, for anyone at all to see except Gentry himself, “that must be just what
it is.…”
11
DOWN ON THE DRAG
Mona woke as they were landing.
Prior was listening to Eddy and nodding and flashing his rectangular smile. It was
like the smile was always there, behind his beard. He’d changed his clothes, though,
so he must’ve had some on the plane. Now he wore a plain gray business suit and a
tie with diagonal stripes. Sort of like the tricks Eddy’d set her up with in Cleveland,
except the suit fit a different way.
She’d seen a trick fitted for a suit once, a guy who took her to a Holiday Inn. The
suit place was off the hotel lobby, and he stood in there in his underwear, crosshatched
with lines of blue light, and watched himself on three big screens. On the screens,
you couldn’t see the blue lines, because he was wearing a different suit in each image.
And Mona had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing, because the system had a cosmetic
program that made him look different on the screens, stretched his face a little and
made his chin stronger, and he didn’t seem to notice. Then he picked a suit, got back
into the one he’d been wearing, and that was it.
Eddy was explaining something to Prior, some crucial point in the architecture of
one of his scams. She knew how to tune the content out, but the tone still got to
her, like he knew people wouldn’t be able to grasp the gimmick he was so proud of,
so he was taking it slow and easy, like he was talking to a little kid, and he’d keep
his voice low to sound patient. It didn’t seem to bother Prior, but then it seemed
to Mona that Prior didn’t much give a shit what Eddy said.
She yawned, stretched, and the plane bumped twice on runway concrete, roared, began
to slow. Eddy hadn’t even stopped talking.
“We have a car waiting,” Prior said, interrupting him.
“So where’s it taking us?” Mona asked, ignoring Eddy’s frown.
Prior showed her the smile. “To our hotel.” He unfastened his seatbelt. “We’ll be
there for a few days. Afraid you’ll have to spend most of them in your room.”
“That’s the deal,” Eddy said, like it was his idea she’d
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