‘You do that.’
Arthur turned away and shuffled back to the lift. Billy Oblivion sprawled in the sagging armchair and watched the tiny drama without interest. It happened every day. Every day Arthur came down from his tiny room on the twenty-seventh floor to look for the letter that would change his life. Every day the letter failed to arrive. The lift door rattled shut and Arthur returned to the twenty-seventh floor. The desk clerk went back to his comic book, and Billy went on staring at the semi-erotic frieze that was slowly crumbling away from the dirty pink wall.
For most of its residents the Leader Hotel was the end of the line. A tall warren of tiny rooms and dim corridors that smelled of decay and urine. As long as you kept paying the rent you were wholly, totally free to overdose, drink yourself to death or simply grow numb. Billy hoped that none of those things would happen to him. He hoped that one day he’d manage to get out of the place and into something better. Billy’s hope didn’t guarantee him any protection against those fates. Most people in the Leader Hotel hoped for something, but still it happened to them. The Leader Hotel was the last stop for the non-people, the ones who, for one reason or another, didn’t have credit cards.
Billy Oblivion didn’t have a credit card. He’d never had one. He’d wandered into Litz without one, found that the good life was closed to him, and wound up at the Leader. He’d been there ever since. Billy the pimp they called him now. That was on account of Darlene. Darlene had picked him up, and kept him ever since. Darlene made enough to keep them both surviving at the Leader, but never enough for them to get out. Darlene didn’t have a credit card. It had been taken away for some unspecified crime. Darlene never went into the exact details.
Not having a credit card created problems for Darlene in her profession, and Darlene’s problems automatically became Billy’s problems. Not having a credit card meant that her tricks couldn’t pay her by a straightforward credit transfer. She had to operate a kind of barter system. She fucked them, or did whatever else they wanted, and they slipped her some kind of small valuable. These she unloaded on the desk clerk, who credited them with enough to pay the rent and live. He, of course, only gave them a fraction of what the stuff was worth, and made sure they never got sufficiently ahead actually to get out of the hotel.
The previous night, however, Billy and Darlene had made more of a mess of things than usual. Darlene had had a reasonably good afternoon. She’d turned three tricks. Three tricks in an afternoon was good for her. It wasn’t that Darlene was unattractive, but here was no way she could compete with the big legitimate brothels. They creamed off most of the custom that just wanted to get laid. Darlene had to make do with the ones who were funny for lowlife. She got the ones who liked to follow a good-looking non-person back to the Leader, the ones who got an extra kick that way.
The three tricks the previous afternoon had made Billy and Darlene a shade overconfident. They’d blown all their credit on a bottle of hotel booze and a package of funaids. Darlene had been certain that if she hit the street later that night, not that night and day made much difference in the permanent dark of the city, she could make the next day’s room rent.
Of course, it had all been a fantasy. The booze and the pills had made sure that they’d become too fused to move from the bed until the house detective had come knocking with his regular morning call of pay up or quit. They didn’t have the room rent, but the desk clerk and the house detective had been very good about it. They’d let Billy sit around in the lobby until Darlene hustled up the rent. They hadn’t even made them move their stuff out, just taken away the key.
Billy waited. It was kind of embarrassing but there was nothing else he could do. The lobby of the Leader Hotel was particularly depressing. It smelled of squalor and decay. The potted palms in the corner had long ago become brown, dry mummies, but no one had bothered to replace them or even throw them out. The carpet was worn into holes in a number of places. The ancient creaking lift only worked by a miracle, and there seemed to be no logical reason why the scarred and battered armchairs that stood dotted about in lonely groups hadn’t fallen into shapeless ruin a long time ago. The high ceiling was marked with huge brown patches of damp.
Billy tried to distract himself by watching the vid that was mounted to the right of the reception desk. Its colour was blotchy and the 3D was alarmingly out of alignment. The only thing that could be said in its favour was that it worked at all. Not that he could see it all that clearly. His view was constantly interrupted by the swaying heads of three old winos who clustered around it as though it actually gave out heat. They were avidly watching one of the multiple hanging shows. Billy wondered how they managed to enjoy it so much. Everyone knew that the hanging shows were fixed.
After another hour, Billy’s patience was finally rewarded. Darlene walked in with a fat little citizen in tow. He was just the type who always seemed to go for her. Pink with nervousness and excitement, he was sweating profusely into his pale blue one-piece suit. Dark stain had formed under his armpits. It was obvious that his dry-all-day anti-perspirant wasn’t holding up under the strain.
Darlene was at least a head taller than the trick. Billy had to admit that she looked good. Her red dress scarcely covered her arse, leaving a flash of inviting thigh above her matching stockings and boots. The thin straps of her red suspenders added an extra touch of excitement. The red ensemble contrasted so nicely with her jet-black skin and close-cropped hair. There was no mistaking that Darlene was a good-looking broad. Billy was proud to have her. He loved that black skin, and he hoped she’d never make enough to get the colour change she was always bitching about.
Billy gave no sign of recognition as she stopped by the reception desk and turned pointedly towards the trick. It didn’t do for a pimp to be too much in evidence while his woman was hustling. It tended to make the tricks nervous. Darlene winked at him from behind the fat man’s back, but Billy didn’t respond. Then she went to work. She took the trick by the arm and steered him up to the reception desk.
‘I guess you wouldn’t mind giving my friend the desk clerk a little present, would you? He could get into trouble for letting me take you up to my room. You can use your credit card, honey. It’s okay. It goes through the hotel.’
The little man looked apprehensively at the desk clerk.
‘The payment won’t be traced, will it?’
Darlene and the desk clerk both smiled reassuringly.
‘Not a chance of that.’
The fat man reluctantly produced his credit card. The desk clerk dropped it into the hotel transfer unit. He dialled out the appropriate amount and handed it back. Billy sighed quietly as the desk clerk gave Darlene the room key. They were good for another day. She grinned at him and firmly propelled the fat man towards the lilt.
‘This way, honey. I know we’re going to have a fantastic time. Just fantastic.’
The lift door rattled shut and they disappeared from sight. Billy stood up and brushed a bit of chair cover from his yellow satin suit. He straightened the diamante collar, brushed back his curly hair and strolled over to the desk.
‘Did you clip him for enough so I can get a drink?’
The desk clerk grinned.
‘He got clipped but good.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. I did you a favour, kid. I kind of like you and your woman so I got two days’ rent, a bit for me and a bit over. I figured you could use it after the state you got into last night.’
Billy didn’t need to be reminded of the comedown he was going through. He did his best to look grateful.
‘Give me a drink.’
The desk clerk reached under the counter and produced a bottle of schnapps and two glasses. He filled one and then cocked an eyebrow at Billy. Billy knew the ritual. He grinned.