Ha now wheeled a butcher-block table forward. A white dinner napkin covered whatever lay on the table. He appeared more erect and dignified than when I'd seen him earlier.
Allison looked about the room. "Any questions so far?"
"I'd like to know what the fish does to you if you actually dare eat it," called a man.
Allison nodded in anticipation of this question. "There are a number of effects, but only one that interests us."
"Which is?"
"Paralytic euphoria."
"What?"
She spoke more slowly this time. "Paralytic euphoria. For a short period of time, less than five minutes, the diner is rendered nearly paralyzed- he can breathe and blink his eyes but not much moreand yet he feels euphoric. It's the very inability to move that intensifies the pleasure."
The room fell silent as the men weighed the probability that Allison's statements were true. Given her poise and intelligence and forthright presentation, they well might be. But if such statements were true, the men seemed to ask themselves privately, what did that mean? How might such an altered state compare to the remembered effects of the various opiates, amphetamines, psychotropics, stimulants, antidepressants, or hallucinogens they might or might not have ingested over the years? Allison said nothing in these long seconds. It appeared that, as the roomful of men shuffled through what was, if taken as a whole, no doubt a voluminous drug-taking experience, there were many remembered experiences that might have been called euphoric, and even a few in which a near-paralytic state was achieved, but there were none that could be recalled as both paralytic and euphoric, and so the period of individual contemplation recombined to a collective mood of curiosity.
"Is it sexual euphoria?" came a voice. Some laughter followed, most of it worried.
"This is always asked," said Allison solemnly, somewhat like a clinician responding to an overly earnest patient. "My answer is that different diners explain their experience differently, but they do seem to suggest a general effect, a universal pleasure." Her eyebrows shot up. "However, I confess I have read accounts that claim that the testes of the fish, if served in hot sake, is an aphrodisiac."
This information seemed unnerving, at best, for none of us knew if it was true, few of us wanted it to be false, and everyone now had to reconsider the notion of paralytic sexual euphoria, a concept that seemed as paradoxical as it did tantalizing. Yet Allison would not indulge further speculation. She shook her head coyly and said, "Chinese culture makes many such claims- for deer, bulls, bears, all sorts of creatures. But we're not interested in wishful thinking. And anyway, we're seeking high art here, gentlemen, not low sensationalism."
"Oh, stop that," came a voice again.
"Besides, we don't even know what sex this fish is, assuming it's not obviously pregnant. Ha, isn't that right? Can you tell by just looking?"
He shook his head. "Very messy to find out."
A general murmur followed. The room was becoming impatient. "Gentlemen," Allison called loudly, "there's more I need to tell you. Please listen closely to what follows."
The room quieted.
"Those of you with better short-term memories will recall what I said earlier- that compared to eating regular fugu fish the effects of eating Shao-tzou are different and various. The Shao-tzou offers three recipes for pleasure. The Chinese translation of these are Sun, Moon, and Stars. This is where the skill of the chef is paramount, gentlemen. The Sun effect involves more toxin from the fish's kidneys, the Moon involves more from the liver, and the Stars more from the brain. Now then, what does that mean? With the Sun portion, the diner remains nearly paralyzed and senses great heat, waves of it moving up and down the spinal column. The Moon portion is said to involve a perception of darkness interrupted by a moving luminescence, almost like a moon rising and falling in the night. And the Stars portion, which is always served last, involves a feeling of soaring, spinning, and tumbling, a kind of uncontrolled flying, which probably reflects some kind of disturbance to the nerves traveling from the inner ear to the brain.
"I know this sounds wonderful. It is. But I need to tell you a few more things. We only allow our diners one portion of this fish, ever. I keep a list of the names, in fact. There are two reasons. The first is that the toxins have differential rates of clearance from the body, depending on the health and age of the man who has eaten it, especially from the liver. Many of you are in your forties and fifties, and despite the fact- or indeed, because — you are, as one and as a whole, successful and charming and sexy and terrific, your livers are not what they used to be. Many of you are taking cholesterol medication, blood pressure pills, and so on, to say nothing of whatever drinking you might be doing."
"Don't say nothing of it," replied one wit, "it's the drinking that keeps me alive."
"And that's what we want to do, too," replied Allison, not missing a beat. "Short of an enzyme liver test, we are in no position to be able to know how fast or slow your liver clears the poison that you might so happily send it. If you ate the fish again, even a few weeks later, it is possible that the disease would cause permanent damage or death. And that we do not want."
"You said there were two reasons. What's the other one?"
Allison nodded. "The other reason is that it is said that eating the Shao-tzou fish is, or can be, for certain individuals, highly addictive. You may remember I used the word enslaving earlier."
"Addicted to fish?"
"Addicted either physically to the concentrations of the chemical or psychologically to the experience it creates."
"Which is what, again, exactly?"
"Hard to be exact. Patrons describing the experience say they undergo almost complete paralysis, as I said, and within their euphoria, a heightened consciousness of all things- light, sound, the air against their skin. They feel dead yet paradoxically, and exquisitely, alive. Most diners say this- that they felt both alive and dead simultaneously. This seems to be, in retrospect, a very valuable experience for them. A few pass out and wake up with a headache that lasts well into the next day. That could happen to any of you. But those who have a peak experience usually want to repeat it. The problem with being addicted to the fish is that if it doesn't kill you slowly, then it might kill you instantly. Historically, people have been known to eat too large a portion in hopes that the effect will be greater. And it is- they die. There are stories in Chinese literature of nobles stealing each other's portion and falling over dead. Okay, so that's my introduction. It always goes longer than I expect. Now, I'd like to introduce our chef, Mr. Ha, and let him tell you about himself. He will explain how he came to us here in the Havana Room, and then I will come back and say a few things, and then we may begin. Gentlemen, please pay close attention to everything that Mr. Ha has to say."
Ha stepped forward and bowed his head respectfully. I sensed among the men an irritation at this further delay.
"Good evenings every-body. My name is yes, Mr. Ha." He smiled nervously. "I know that sounds like the joke. Ha-ha. Like that. I am from China. I have live here about ten year, so I am not exactly American citizen. But I am very happy here, working for Miss Allison. Now I tell you a story. Before I come to America I live in China all my life and for many of those year I was working for Chinese government. Technically I am working for the People's Republic Army, but that is government in China. I am from the Jiangsu region of China. I was trained in the Jiangsu Institute of Cooking in 1965 and 1966. At this time I go to work in Mao's kitchen in Beijing. My title is deputy assistant inspector of fish. I am learning then everything we know about fish. We learn how to make fish for the diplomats from Soviet Union and North Korea and Cuba. In 1971 I am getting my star chef's hat, so I am official chef of the Chinese government. I am thirty-eight years old. I study Shao-tzou fish. Chairman Mao like this fish. Even though he become very old, he try to have this fish once a month. Mao very careful with this fish. We never make mistake. We clean fish knife after every slice in seawater and vinegar. Then dry in sun every morning. We do it Japanese style, sashi, or chiri, karaage, you know, deep-fry, even hire-zake, very dangerous put fish into hot sake because alcohol make poison travel fast. Also we cook Chinese style in rice and soup. I am very proud doing this for my country. Chairman Mao like my fish very much, say many nice thing to Ha. At this time I remember when Nixon come to China. We joke that we give him Shao-tzou, make him so happy he must die. But that was big joke of course. Mr. Kissinger, everybody say too much trick.