Free Crash Deluxe by Marianne de Pierres

knife with one hand and wiping his saliva away with the other.
    Instead of persisting, he withdrew, levering himself on to the bar.
    He tapped his cheek with a forefinger. ‘I don’t know who you are, but James Monk wanted you. If I set this up, you must learn enough to pass as what you pretend to be. My reputation is at stake.’
    ‘How long will that take?’ I complained, faking impatience.
    ‘Glorious will coach you. A few days should be enough.’ He nodded towards the amber goddess.
    Shite, no.
    Before I could protest aloud he’d beckoned her over.
    ‘Glorious, Jales is from the other side of the world.’
    ‘Country,’ I corrected.
    ‘Whatever.’ He sniffed at my interruption. ‘Her skills are . . . raw. If you were to teach her some basic sophistications, enough to pass as a local artisan, how long would it take?’
    Glorious looked me over critically. ‘Depends on how quickly she learns - a few days, a week at the most for the rudiments. Years if you want her to be good at it.’
    Lavish nodded. ‘Days will be enough. When Glorious thinks you’re ready I’ll set up another contact with James Monk. Not before. My reputation is everything.’
    I got a stubborn look on. ‘What if I don’t want to play your game?’
    He shot a glance at Glorious and she moved off out of earshot, eyeing me curiously.
    ‘I’ll throw you out on the street and blow your cover. You are no Amorato , Jales Belliere. People want to kill you,’ he whispered.
    ‘What about if I kill you first?’ I whispered, only half joking.
    He didn’t smile. ‘Now that would be stupid. You’re almost untouchable while you’re in the Luxoria. You have what we call . . . Corpus Immunity . As long as the sanitation and health laws are obeyed I can employ anybody I want, make them do anything I want. No interference. Set foot on the street and I’ll see that you are snatched up by the nearest Militia patrol as an illegal alien at the very least. I’m sure that once they start digging they’ll find other things about you they want to know.’
    Oh, yes.
    ‘If you’re after James Monk then it’s my way or . . .’ He trailed off.
    I didn’t like blackmail but it was buying me the time I needed with Merv. I let myself look annoyed.
    A small guy dressed only in a disposable nappy burst into the bar. His low-pitched wail cut across the background tribal beat.
    ‘Delly, Brigitte’s got a spinner.’
    Lavish nodded to Muscle Massive and the Koreans and they all disappeared into the corridor. Glorious and the other girls ran out after them.
    It left me alone with Merv. I forced myself to smile at him again. He squirmed so nervously that I figured it was a new experience for him.
    ‘What’s happening?’ I asked.
    ‘S-spinner’s a b-bad client.’ He backed away, dropping a glass so that it smashed on the bar. ‘I got to go back to my i-bugs. Shouldn’t be doing t-this s-stupid j-job anyway . . .’
    ‘Can I come?’ My smile got wider. I stopped short of batting my eyelids.
    He glanced around at the empty bar.
    ‘I g-guess so,’ he said doubtfully. ‘Seeing as you’ll be working here t-too.’
    I vaulted over the bar and followed Merv through a narrow door into the cylinder of mirrors.
    Inside was a small, dark, circular room that could have been running the universe. The walls and ceiling were one large screen, or hundreds of small ones. They flicked up images from every cranny of the ’doirs and ran panoramas on the outside of the building from ground to penthouse level and into the city.
    Two full-body, coffin-shaped sensoriums took up half of the floor space.
    What was left was a bedroom complete with a deep recliner chair/bed and armrests wide enough to set up shop on. One of them winked and hummed with a variety of command controls: an old keyboard, pick-ups, touch pads. The other could have been the backroom of a chemist - tabs, derms, a portable drip - everything that frizzed, popped and kicked.
    Merv pulled out a tray