once in a while, and they’ll follow you anywhere. Jango buys the whole pack of them out of petty cash, and I suppose you get what you pay for.”
“You know Jango Beck?”
She laughed a wan little laugh. “I work for Jango. Once in a while I sleep with the Great Man. Nobody knows Jango Beck.”
“He sounds fascinating.”
“He is. So is a snake.”
“But you work for him. And you sleep with him.”
“I told you, he’s fascinating.”
“But as you said, so is a snake.”
“Well, we both know what kind of symbol a snake is, don’t we?” she said. “This is a weird conversation. Here we are maybe trying to pick each other up, and all we can talk about is Jango Beck.”
“Well, this is his little universe, isn’t it?” Paul said. “Anyway, I’m not trying to pick you up, at least not now. I’m with —Jeez!” He suddenly realized that Velva must’ve been waiting for him back in Beck’s maze for, how long, twenty, thirty, forty minutes? She must be busting a gut—if she hasn’t picked up a producer by now.
“Pity,” said the woman in the green dress. “You seem interesting. Fast. I like the pace of your head, whoever you are. I don’t suppose you could ditch the girl you’re with....”
“A gentleman never ditches a lady.... But there’s a fifty-fifty chance the lady will ditch me.”
“Well, if she does, I’ll be drifting around. Just look for a lot of drunks in fancy T-shirts and ask for Sandra Bayne.”
She turned, walked back toward the glass doors, blew him a mock kiss, and disappeared into the house, into the confusion of the party. Paul stood there watching her go, wondering whether he would ever see her again. After a decent interval, he followed her back inside.
VII
Back in the hallway, facing the series of arches that led back into the party, it dawned on Paul that he hadn’t the slightest idea of how to get back to the room that Velva was in. He remembered that she was in the room with green light and semicircular couches, but where was that? Between the dealers’ den and the strobe room? The dealers’ den and the black-light room? And even if I remembered the location, how would I get there?
Paul realized that he had absolutely no concept of the order in which he had passed through the rooms, or how many rooms there were, or the pattern of their interconnections. He might as well be in the movie he had conceived, where the rooms kept shifting and changing, for all the orientation he had. He had moved from one set to the next like a character in a film—scene! cut! scene! cut! scene!—flick, flick, flick from one reality to the next without any sense of topological transition. There was noting to do but plunge back into the movie and see how it came out. There couldn’t be that many rooms, anyway....
He picked an archway at random and found himself in a world of cool blues: navy rug, ice-blue walls, blue globe lamps, and inflatable plastic furniture in glacial colors. A man in a brown suit was talking to the blond Indian, while in a far corner the albino black was exchanging heavy glances with a tiny dark beauty in a sari.
“—can’t offer you any more than Guild minimum up front, but he’s willing to talk about a piece of the producer’s profit—”
“—but personally, Miss Devi, I find the ambience in Calcutta strangely to my taste—”
The long-haired military-looking bruiser strode into the room, still scanning faces and shadows for enemies. Or, Paul thought, possibly for victims. There was a flash of recognition between him and the black albino: fear on the one hand, something sly on the other.
“Hello, Chris,” the albino said in a soft stage whisper.
“Are you here on business, Cornelius?”
“You know I’m not masochist enough to work for Jango Beck. I haven’t your fortitude.”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
The albino laughed as an answer.
“Don’t walk past any dark alleys, Jerry, and you can be sure
“You know Jango Beck?”
She laughed a wan little laugh. “I work for Jango. Once in a while I sleep with the Great Man. Nobody knows Jango Beck.”
“He sounds fascinating.”
“He is. So is a snake.”
“But you work for him. And you sleep with him.”
“I told you, he’s fascinating.”
“But as you said, so is a snake.”
“Well, we both know what kind of symbol a snake is, don’t we?” she said. “This is a weird conversation. Here we are maybe trying to pick each other up, and all we can talk about is Jango Beck.”
“Well, this is his little universe, isn’t it?” Paul said. “Anyway, I’m not trying to pick you up, at least not now. I’m with —Jeez!” He suddenly realized that Velva must’ve been waiting for him back in Beck’s maze for, how long, twenty, thirty, forty minutes? She must be busting a gut—if she hasn’t picked up a producer by now.
“Pity,” said the woman in the green dress. “You seem interesting. Fast. I like the pace of your head, whoever you are. I don’t suppose you could ditch the girl you’re with....”
“A gentleman never ditches a lady.... But there’s a fifty-fifty chance the lady will ditch me.”
“Well, if she does, I’ll be drifting around. Just look for a lot of drunks in fancy T-shirts and ask for Sandra Bayne.”
She turned, walked back toward the glass doors, blew him a mock kiss, and disappeared into the house, into the confusion of the party. Paul stood there watching her go, wondering whether he would ever see her again. After a decent interval, he followed her back inside.
VII
Back in the hallway, facing the series of arches that led back into the party, it dawned on Paul that he hadn’t the slightest idea of how to get back to the room that Velva was in. He remembered that she was in the room with green light and semicircular couches, but where was that? Between the dealers’ den and the strobe room? The dealers’ den and the black-light room? And even if I remembered the location, how would I get there?
Paul realized that he had absolutely no concept of the order in which he had passed through the rooms, or how many rooms there were, or the pattern of their interconnections. He might as well be in the movie he had conceived, where the rooms kept shifting and changing, for all the orientation he had. He had moved from one set to the next like a character in a film—scene! cut! scene! cut! scene!—flick, flick, flick from one reality to the next without any sense of topological transition. There was noting to do but plunge back into the movie and see how it came out. There couldn’t be that many rooms, anyway....
He picked an archway at random and found himself in a world of cool blues: navy rug, ice-blue walls, blue globe lamps, and inflatable plastic furniture in glacial colors. A man in a brown suit was talking to the blond Indian, while in a far corner the albino black was exchanging heavy glances with a tiny dark beauty in a sari.
“—can’t offer you any more than Guild minimum up front, but he’s willing to talk about a piece of the producer’s profit—”
“—but personally, Miss Devi, I find the ambience in Calcutta strangely to my taste—”
The long-haired military-looking bruiser strode into the room, still scanning faces and shadows for enemies. Or, Paul thought, possibly for victims. There was a flash of recognition between him and the black albino: fear on the one hand, something sly on the other.
“Hello, Chris,” the albino said in a soft stage whisper.
“Are you here on business, Cornelius?”
“You know I’m not masochist enough to work for Jango Beck. I haven’t your fortitude.”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”
The albino laughed as an answer.
“Don’t walk past any dark alleys, Jerry, and you can be sure
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