Free Vurt by Jeff Noon

was sucking on a demon bong-pipe, his eyes drifting to other worlds, as the water popped in bubbles of Haze.
    I was trapped in the armchair, drugged by the smoke, fascinated by the ritual.
    Suze was taking water to the joint locks. Adding herbs to the water, she mixed up a slick lather, which glistened with perfume. Like you could see the smell, you know?
    She worked this lather into each thick strand of hair, each in turn, from her own roots to Tristan's, until their hair was a stream of suds. It was lovely to look at, and Tristan was smiling through it all. "You're very privileged to see this," Suze said, in a whisper.
    "It's a good story, Scribble," Tristan said. "You want to carry on?"
    Their eyes were heavy-lidded from the shampoo pleasure, and it was like watching sex. Drugged-up sex. "It's very beautiful," whispered Mandy.
    Through the walls I could hear the hound dogs howl. "Don't worry about them, Scribble," said Tristan, dreamily.
    Desdemona and I, back in the Rusholme Gardens, fingering the feather.
    The Beetle and Bridget were out for the night and the morning, travelling in the van, visiting a down south Vurt Fest, gathering contacts and suppliers.The cops had taken some details, pronounced us innocent. We were back home, and it was all ours; the flat, the feather, the love.
    "Wonder what it's called?" Desdemona asked, letting the feather's yellow glints shine under the table lamp. The feather was 70% black, 20% pink, 10% yellow. There was a pale space on the shaft where somebody had peeled the label off.
    "Plug us in, Des," I said.
    "No way!" she shouted. "Not on our own."
    She was following the Beetle's rules. Nobody goes in alone, just in case it gets real bad in there.
    "Go on!" I pleaded. "We've got each other. What can go wrong?"
    This I will never forgive.
    "Beetle's doing it," I told her. "Right this moment. Down South. Oh come on, sister! He's at a Vurt Fest! With Bridget! Of course he's doing it. He's in Vurtland, right now!"
    "We've never done a Yellow before, Scribb."
    This was true. Yellows were ultra-rare. Low-lifers just didn't come across them. "It's not a full Yellow," I said. "It's just got some Yellow in it. Look, a tiny amount. It's safe."
    "We don't even know what it is!" "Let's do it!"
    She gazed at the feather for a full minute, saying nothing, just drinking in the rainbow of colours. And then, finally; "Let's do it, Scribb." It was a soft voice. And she looked at me with those eyes made out of plums, juicy plums, as I stole the feather from her hands.
    Some things just seem bound.
    And she opened her mouth, my sister, waiting for the feathering. She was too full up of love to resist, so I stroked her there, deep in the mouth, and then myself, and this is how we lost the sister. Desdemona was taking it, all to heart.

    Tristan uncorked a new jar and reached inside, with wide open fingers. And
    when he pulled his hand back out, it was covered in thick green slime, like hairvaz, but living. Nanosham! Read about it in the Cat, but never seen it before. Those minuscule machines were dribbling from between his fingers.
    "Watch this," he said. And with a broad and sexy sweep, he set those tiny machines working on his and Suze's hair. You could almost hear them feeding on the dirt and grease. Nanosham was a jelly base containing hundreds of baby computers. They turned dirt into data, processing hair clean, giving the people droidlocks; the ultimate crusty accessory.
    "My darling," whispered Tristan to his love. "This is the sweetest pleasure." Suze turned to me, holding out a clutch of the nanoes. "You want to try some?"
    she asked. Her eyes knew all my secrets. I felt her there, inside my body, and it was like she was caressing me. Maybe Suze was a shadowgirl. But no, it wasn't that, it felt differ- ent. Felt like she was becoming me.
    "Young man's got no hair anyway," Tristan said. I couldn't answer. Couldn't even shake my head. All of the air had turned into smoke. Maybe the herb brew was giving