have to stay in the room.
“You like stims, Mona?” Prior asked, still smiling.
“Sure,” she said, “who doesn’t?”
“Have a favorite, Mona, a favorite star?”
“Angie,” she said, vaguely irritated. “Who else?”
The smile got a little bigger. “Good. We’ll get you all of her latest tapes.”
Mona’s universe consisted in large part of things and places she knew but had never
physically seen or visited. The hub of the northern Sprawl didn’t smell, in stims.
They edited it out, she guessed, the way Angie never had a headache or a bad period.
But it did smell. Like Cleveland, but even worse. She’d thought it was just the way
the airport smelled, when they left the plane, but it had been even stronger when
they’d gotten out of their car to go into the hotel. And it was cold as hell in the
street, too, with a wind that bit at her bare ankles.
The hotel was bigger than that Holiday Inn, but older, too, she thought. The lobby
was more crowded than lobbies were in stims, but there was a lot of clean blue carpet.
Prior made her wait by an ad for an orbital spa while he and Eddy went over to a long
black counter and he talked to a woman with a brass nametag. She felt stupid waiting
there, in this white plastic raincoat Prior had made her wear, like he didn’t think
her outfit was good enough. About a third of the crowd in the lobby were Japs she
figured for tourists. They all seemed to have recording gear of some kind—video, holo,
a few with simstim units on their belts—but otherwise they didn’t look like they had
a whole lot of money. She thought they were all supposed to have a lot.
Maybe they’re smart, don’t want to show it
, she decided.
She saw Prior slide a credit chip across the counter to the woman with the nametag,
who took it and zipped it along a metal slot.
Prior put her bag down on the bed, a wide slab of beige temperfoam, and touched a
panel that caused a wall of drapes to open. “It’s not the Ritz,” he said, “but we’ll
try to make you comfortable.”
Mona made a noncommittal sound. The Ritz was a burger place in Cleveland and she couldn’t
see what that had to do with anything.
“Look,” he said, “your favorite.” He was standing beside the bed’s upholstered headboard.
There was a stim unit there, built in, and a little shelf with a set of trodes in
a plastic wrapper and about five cassettes. “All of Angie’s new stims.”
She wondered who’d put those cassettes there, and if they’d done it after Prior had
asked her what stims she liked. She showed him a smile of her own and went to the
window. The Sprawl looked like it did in stims; the window was like a hologram postcard,
famous buildings she didn’t know the names of but she knew they were famous.
Gray of the domes, geodesics picked out white with snow, behind that the gray of the
sky.
“Happy, baby?” Eddy asked, coming up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders.
“They got showers here?”
Prior laughed. She shrugged out of Eddy’s loose grip and took her bag into the bathroom.
Closed and locked the door. She heard Prior’s laugh again, and Eddy starting up with
his scam talk. She sat on the toilet, opened her bag, and dug out the cosmetic kit
where she kept her wiz. She had four crystals left. That seemed like enough; three
was enough, but when she got down to two she usually started looking to score. She
didn’t do jumpers much, not every day anyway, except recently she had, but that was
because Florida had started to drive her crazy.
Now she could start tapering off, she decided, as she tapped a crystal out of the
vial. It looked like hard yellow candy; you had to crush it, then grind it up between
a pair of nylon screens. When you did that, it gave off a kind of hospital smell.
They were both gone, by the time she finished her shower. She’d stayed in until she
got bored with it, which took a long time.
“You like stims, Mona?” Prior asked, still smiling.
“Sure,” she said, “who doesn’t?”
“Have a favorite, Mona, a favorite star?”
“Angie,” she said, vaguely irritated. “Who else?”
The smile got a little bigger. “Good. We’ll get you all of her latest tapes.”
Mona’s universe consisted in large part of things and places she knew but had never
physically seen or visited. The hub of the northern Sprawl didn’t smell, in stims.
They edited it out, she guessed, the way Angie never had a headache or a bad period.
But it did smell. Like Cleveland, but even worse. She’d thought it was just the way
the airport smelled, when they left the plane, but it had been even stronger when
they’d gotten out of their car to go into the hotel. And it was cold as hell in the
street, too, with a wind that bit at her bare ankles.
The hotel was bigger than that Holiday Inn, but older, too, she thought. The lobby
was more crowded than lobbies were in stims, but there was a lot of clean blue carpet.
Prior made her wait by an ad for an orbital spa while he and Eddy went over to a long
black counter and he talked to a woman with a brass nametag. She felt stupid waiting
there, in this white plastic raincoat Prior had made her wear, like he didn’t think
her outfit was good enough. About a third of the crowd in the lobby were Japs she
figured for tourists. They all seemed to have recording gear of some kind—video, holo,
a few with simstim units on their belts—but otherwise they didn’t look like they had
a whole lot of money. She thought they were all supposed to have a lot.
Maybe they’re smart, don’t want to show it
, she decided.
She saw Prior slide a credit chip across the counter to the woman with the nametag,
who took it and zipped it along a metal slot.
Prior put her bag down on the bed, a wide slab of beige temperfoam, and touched a
panel that caused a wall of drapes to open. “It’s not the Ritz,” he said, “but we’ll
try to make you comfortable.”
Mona made a noncommittal sound. The Ritz was a burger place in Cleveland and she couldn’t
see what that had to do with anything.
“Look,” he said, “your favorite.” He was standing beside the bed’s upholstered headboard.
There was a stim unit there, built in, and a little shelf with a set of trodes in
a plastic wrapper and about five cassettes. “All of Angie’s new stims.”
She wondered who’d put those cassettes there, and if they’d done it after Prior had
asked her what stims she liked. She showed him a smile of her own and went to the
window. The Sprawl looked like it did in stims; the window was like a hologram postcard,
famous buildings she didn’t know the names of but she knew they were famous.
Gray of the domes, geodesics picked out white with snow, behind that the gray of the
sky.
“Happy, baby?” Eddy asked, coming up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders.
“They got showers here?”
Prior laughed. She shrugged out of Eddy’s loose grip and took her bag into the bathroom.
Closed and locked the door. She heard Prior’s laugh again, and Eddy starting up with
his scam talk. She sat on the toilet, opened her bag, and dug out the cosmetic kit
where she kept her wiz. She had four crystals left. That seemed like enough; three
was enough, but when she got down to two she usually started looking to score. She
didn’t do jumpers much, not every day anyway, except recently she had, but that was
because Florida had started to drive her crazy.
Now she could start tapering off, she decided, as she tapped a crystal out of the
vial. It looked like hard yellow candy; you had to crush it, then grind it up between
a pair of nylon screens. When you did that, it gave off a kind of hospital smell.
They were both gone, by the time she finished her shower. She’d stayed in until she
got bored with it, which took a long time.
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