"Tristan does?"
Somebody caught a stray bullet.
"Help the man."
Then his eyes closed. His lips closed. The Beetle was sleeping, and it was my time to leave.
I stroked the Tapewormer back into his mouth, gentle-like. Well, why not? Guy can only take so much. I was watching his face smile at the fake memories.
"This is a neat piece," announced Mandy. And when I turned to her, she had Beetle's gun in both hands, lining it up to the shadow clock on the far wall. "Neat. See the way it self-focuses?" So I watched the chambers of the gun slide and whirr, locking on.
"You know about guns, Mandy?"
"Some. The Bee told me loads. We going into action soon, Scribb?" Now she was rubbing some Vaz from the Beetle's bedside jar into the firing mechanism.
"Soon. We move in the early morning."
"I'm glad for that."
"I didn't think you were that bothered about Des."
"I'm bothered about you, Scribb."
"That right?"
She put the gun back down on the bedside cabinet, and then looked over at the Beetle. He was smiling, so let him smile some more. "I've been thinking some crazy things, Scribble," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Like how you got me in here, in the Riders. You really sold it to me."
"You want to get out?"
"What?"
"I can see that. Things have turned bad. You wanna go, just go."
She was quiet for a moment.
"Scribble…"
"Just say so."
"This is the most fun I've ever had."
Fun?
"I'm not getting the picture, Mandy. What are you saying?"
"I know I was just here to stand in for your sister. But that's okay. I've been worse things. All the times I've been looking for something… something better than me… you know what I'm saying?"
"Kind of."
"Just this kind of constant search for a man… a man who's tougher than me. I never met him of course. So when you introduced me to the Bee… well… you know the feeling?"
I knew it.
"It's the same with you and Des, I guess?" she asked.
This girl was getting to me, and I didn't like it too much.
"You don't have to answer," Mandy told me. And then she turned back to look at the Beetle. He was still smiling, and the colours of his wound were vibrant and shocking. "I hate to see him like this. All that energy going to waste. Look at him! He's almost laughing. It just makes me sad. A man like that… living in the past. Tapewormer sucks. I'm not the past… I'm the future. Do you understand me, Scribble?"
I nodded.
"I think I want to kill Murdoch." She had the gun in her hands again, and the threat looked so sexy… it was an immense pity that I just wasn't up there, in the toughness stakes, far enough for this soldier.
"Is that bad?" she asked.
"No. No it's not. It's real."
"I don't want to lose him. Not ever."
Her eyes were getting wet, so I took her into my arms. "No way will that happen. Believe me."
Dingo Tush was waiting for me in the corridor.
He'd just come out of Twinkle's room, and he had Karli the robodog in his arms. The bitch was flopping upside down in his half-human paws. Karli's tongue was loose and sloppy, and a constant low pitched whine was falling out from her jaws. Dingo's face was caught in the blue light cast from a small table lamp; those famous cheeks and muzzle sculptured and lit to perfection. He looked so very beautiful, and often I had thought, in those early days; if only I could have just that bit of dog in me. Then I would be truly beautiful, and the women would love me.
Not to be. Only human. Still clinging to the hope of being only human.
"Karli's pretty upset," whispered Dingo.
"She's just a dog."
Oh shit! Silly thing to say!
"I will forgive that slight indiscretion."
"Beetle told me you might know about Brid and the Thing. Where they are."
"Why should I know that?"
"I'm just following the Beetle. What do you know?"
"I know a good record when I hear one. What do you think I know? I'm a pop star, for fuck's sake. And if you don't mind, I have an all-nighter to get to."
"I don't know who to believe."
"I think you should learn some manners when talking to a Dog-star. One who has just saved the life of your friend. A somewhat small life, if I may add."
"You best not be lying, Dingo."
"Ooh! Big. Tough." He gives me his famous smile, the one with all the teeth on show.
Holy shit!
"I would have you for breakfast, dear boy."
I opened the door to Twinkle's bedroom. Tristan was sitting on the bed. In his arms lay Suze, his one love.
Their hair lay all around like a wake.
It was matted.
Blood-matted.
Tristan looked up at my entrance. His eyes were a pair of wet diamonds.
"Can you help me?" he said.
"What's happening?" I asked.
"Suze," he said, was all that he said
Somebody caught a stray bullet.
"Suze got hit?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. It was that simple, that deadly.
"Bad?"
Tristan didn't answer. Instead he reached out his hand towards me, offering a pair of scissors. "I want you to do this," he said.
I looked down at the body of Suze, held there, upon his lap, unbreathing. I wanted my voice to come easy, but my mouth was scorched and the words came out like smoke. "Tristan… do you… is that right?" I didn't know what to say.
"Just cut this for me, will you?!" His eyes were glaring. "Don't keep me waiting!"
"I don't think I can do it, Trist."
"Nobody else will."
Tristan's eyes…
So I took the scissors in my trembling hands. There are only two parts of the body that don't feel pain. One is the hair, the other is the nails. Both are made out of Keratin, a fibrous sulphur-containing protein. It occurs in the outer layer of the skin and in the hair, nails, feathers, hooves, etc. From the Greek keras, meaning horn, meaning that which can be cut without tears.
Let me tell you about that. I have seen the tears at the cutting. Karli slipped through the gap in the left-open door. I had a rope of thick hair in my fingers. It went on forever, between Tristan and Suze, and then back again. That hair was living. Nano germs were calling out for mercy. I swear that they were. I could hear this screaming in my brain. Well then, friends, I guess you never felt anything like this before?
I worked the scissors through a severe angle, slicing the droid-locks. It took some kind of strength to do it, and I was kind of proud. And it took some time. Because the hair was thick and clogged up with debris; spent matches, jewels, hairgrips, dog fur. And that just in three weeks since the last washing. I pocketed one of the hairgrips. Why? A voice told me to do it. Which voice? The one that never stops.
That droid hair was so thick it was like cutting through the night.
Until, eventually, I separated them, Tristan from Suze. Karli the robobitch was licking at the face of the corpse, tying to wake her.
Nothing would wake her.
I'd come down from Pleasureville two, or maybe three o'clock in the afternoon. I'd attended the sickbed of my best and worst friend. I'd cut some hair. Cut two people in half. You know, just one of those days. Now I was tired, so tired and I just wanted to sleep, even though I knew we should be moving on, out of there, because the cops have got your number, Scribble, and you're maybe on a death list. Murdoch's list.
So guess what, Murdoch? You're on mine.
All this added up and I shouldn't even have been thinking about lying down on that couch, fully clothed. My eyes closing, heavy with the world, thinking about how this story started; Mandy coming out of that all-night Vurt-U-Want, dodging dogs and cops.
Christ! I was playing it back already.
I got up suddenly, startling Karli, who was playing with Twinkle. "Fetch me some paper, kidder," I said, whilst searching my pockets for a pen. I had some debris from the trip in there, and I placed them all out on the table top. My birthday card. The Tapewormer feather that Beetle had given me. The fool card. Put that down as well. Took a long stare down at the collection.