Free The n-Body Problem by Tony Burgess Page A

shaking with life. Every goddam atom.”

    I picture Petra and Paula mixed in with the wet charred soup.
    “So I am showing the atoms a great fuckin’ time.”
    Dixon lifts his orange t-shirt. His gut moves. Bulges and rolling skin twist and coil in continuous motion.
    “I have over a dozen pheckers in there. Sometimes they poph uph into my stomach. Only a matter of time before one sliphs up into my throat.”
    “Don’t kill me, Dix. I work for people. I don’t give a fuck what you do.”
    Dixon drops his shirt and lifts his prickled brow.
    “You do? That’s what we need. We need jobs. I got a job. I work for somephody.”
    Dixon stands and lays his long hands across his lower stomach.
    “Curtains!”
    Dixon steps aside, presenting me to an audience with his open hand.
    “Phresenting, the man who would not die!”
    The seats are full. All of Avening is here. Young and old. All the mothers and all the fathers and all the little children. And their bones are gnashing. Their faces have slipped. Their heads bob on strings. A man, whose naked body is entirely blackened, falls forward in the front row. A lump on his side breaks off. Y runs forward and props him back up. He places the shapeless mass, a baby, on his lap.
    A banner across the back wall: “WASTECORP—Things are looking up!”
    I can hear clanging sounds to my right. Metal in pans. A beep counting.
    “That’s right, man! Old Dix is a government dick!”
    Dixon steps out centre stage and faces his audience.
    “Welcome, everyone! Soon you’re all going on a trip but first we have a show. Something nice to send you off with!”
    Dixon turns to me. He has put lipstick on. It’s blood. His lame lower lip drools.
    “We get phaid pher body, phal. You folks just don’t die fast enough.”
    “Don’t kill me, Dixon. I’ll do anything you want. Make me suffer. I don’t give a shit. I don’t want to die.”
    Dixon stands erect and turns on his toe.
    “Folks, we have to move things along here. Phe-nder Mines should be moving in in a few hours. We gotta get you up above the clouds!”
    Someone is pulling me up. Doctor Anne. I don’t resist. I don’t want to be killed suddenly. Pender Mines. That’s ridiculous. Dixon can say whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants. You don’t need to makes sense to me, Dix. Don’t even try.
    “What you are aphout to witness, my friends, is a new innovation from the great minds at WasteCorph R and D. With the assistance of the lovely Doctor Anne, I intend to take you on a journey. Something for you to think about while the stars break your eyes and the sun dries your eyes.”
    I am guided to a gurney. Two tables are wheeled to my sides.
    “Today, we change what it means to be human!”
    There are silver spider nests on the tables. Complicated medical instruments. My arms are strapped in. I look up. Y is tightening. This would be the time to say something. To break through to him. To squeeze an emotion.
    Y is smiling. Y is happy. Y is old.
    I feel a tear leave my lower lid. Not because I have been betrayed by the boy I saved. Not because I love him. Not because I love anyone at all. Not because I am going to suffer now. Probably unimaginable torture. But because I’m pretty sure I’m going to die.
    Doctor Anne wipes the crook of my arm. Clinical habit. She inserts a needle. Something to keep me alive through this. Keep me alive. I look up into Doctor Anne’s face. She glances at me. Not a bad person. Not cruel. She listens to desperate pleas. I know she does. I know it.
    I plead.

bumps in the road.
    I have been unconscious. I can feel it. My hands and feet are prickling back to life. My eyes are stuck shut. I try to open them, but they won’t. I believe my eyes have been sewn shut. Maybe they have crusted shut? I even out my breathing. My heart is banging through my body. I will calmly take measure of this. I will find out more.
    I am alive.
    I can also feel movement. A light pull in my chest. A force. Gravity behind