Chapter #9Hangover by: Seuzz   You sleep in late the next morning and don't shower until shortly before noon. When dry and dressed, you call Muniz. "I'm with Knotts," he tells you. "The Moustache is scrubbing that tat off her now."
"You done? Wanna get some lunch?"
"Sure. Where, and what kind of skin do I look for?"
"The burger place around the corner. I'll be a red-headed guy with tats all over him."
That makes it easy for him to spot you, and for you to spot him, for he also shows up in his birthday skin. Before you place your orders, though, you tug him lightly and nod toward the restroom. He goes in. A few minutes later, a tat-free bodybuilder wearing Muniz's clothes comes out. You ignore him and take your turn. Inside the toilet stall you pull on your nose as you consider possible skins. With a shrug you settle on one similar to Muniz's. You pull your gloves off and slip a hand down the front of your trousers to press a spot on your inner thigh. You check your look in the mirror. It'll pass, you decide, though Muniz's skin looks at least five years older than this one, and your shirt binds a little too tightly for comfort to your chest and biceps. You pull your now blonde hair into a loose ponytail, and turn your ball cap back to front.
You place your orders and mutter gruffly to each other while waiting for them to be filled, then take your trays into a corner where you're not likely to be overheard. "I don't wanna rake up anything bad," you say as you hunch over the table. "But I figure you and me were the guys who made the biggest scenes last night, so maybe we could commiserate."
Muniz pushes some ketchup around with a fry. "Yeah, well, I was only saying what everyone was thinking. I thanked Knotts for being a stand-up guy."
"Yeah?"
"Nah, I didn't say anything. I made sure she knew it, though." He shrugs, but lowers his head. "Stoddard didn't have to be a fucking cunt about it, though," he growls.
"Sure he did," you say. "He just got in first. Everyone else was too shocked by your bullshit."
His eyes flash. "Everyone felt that way about Davenport."
"That they did. Amen to your eulogy."
"So why was everyone shocked? Is everyone just a fucking hypocrite?"
"No one was shocked you called him out for being a shit. We all wanted to hear that said."
"You said everyone was—"
"I mean your bullshit story about that letter, Muniz, how it was transparently bullshit. That's the whole point of what we do, you know. We try to get away with plausible bullshit, not the transparent kind. I mean, making up a dopey story about a girl you tossed away for a job at Diana? C'mon. It wasn't you that got bullshit called on him, it was your story. Learn to tell the difference between you and the lies you tell."
Muniz rips a bite from his burger. "What about Stoddard's story, about that kid who died of cancer?" he mumbles.
"What about it?"
"That was bullshit."
"Was it? White vouched for it."
"White's a fucking liar, protecting his friend, that's all."
"Yeah, and amen to that too. We protect each other. Whole fucking point of last night was to pay a price for not saving that miserable zampo from death by celebrity. We protect each other, and White protected Stoddard. He vouched for his story."
"So how come no one vouched for mine?"
"Did you call bullshit on Stoddard because his story stunk, or because you were pissed at him?"
"'Cos of his story. How come no one—?"
"Really?"
He reddens. "Fuck you."
"Eh, when we're done here, maybe. But your story was way over the top, man, too over the top, no one was going to throw their cred in to save you."
"So you guys burned me instead."
"We burned Davenport, too. You gotta cut the rope to save yourself sometimes." You shrug again.
Muniz snorts. "And what does that say about your opinion of me? You burned me but no one would burn Stoddard."
"I told you, your bullshit story was over the top. His story danced on the line. You could bet your cred on his."
"Fucking White just lost all his cred with me," Muniz mutters.
"Look, no one wants to see things like last night become a regular thing," you say, leaning forward. "But the way you handle it from now on is you make a real sacrifice, but you play it up. Like I did. No one gives a shit about a deck of cards, least of all me. So I tell a story, a true story to go with it, but I make it sound like something I'm really proud of. It's a true story, so if it's challenged, it gets vouched. That's the rule, you know, you gotta vouch if you know it's true. But you make it sound bigger than it really was, more meaningful. Your crew can call bullshit on facts, but they can't call bullshit on feelings."
"So you make a real sacrifice," Muniz says slowly, and picks at what's left of his burger.
"Sure. Or not. I didn't really throw away my lucky deck," you say, and Muniz looks up sharply. You grin. "Sure. I burned a ringer I bought just for the occasion. No one thought to look for the lie there."
* * * * *
The mood lightens, but Muniz still seems vaguely troubled. You gently press him, and he tries turning you away, but you persist. "Look," he says. "I got my issues, but I don't wanna stir up any of yours."
"Oh." You've finished eating, so you're awkwardly free of anything you can play with or look at. "I see."
"You explained my shit to me. I can't explain yours, but maybe you want to—"
"Look, there's nothing to explain. Cox has a brain full of bats is all. Greystoke and Crazy Ivan, those were the only guys we made at the premiere."
"Okay. So Cox said he saw, or he thought he saw— Fuck it, Kips, lots of people think they've seen him. You've thought it, Knotts has. That's how come his picture moves along the wall. No darts, 'cos you can't pin a ghost, but—"
"Yeah, but there's gotta be two people at the scene, and they gotta agree he was there," you say. "Like Knotts said, that's the rule."
"So you didn't see him?" Muniz asks, and you emphatically shake your head. "So what did Cox see, or he thinks he saw?"
"I dunno. He didn't tell me, he didn't say anything about it to me. I only found out yesterday when—" You stammer to a halt. "When Knotts took me down to Patterning."
Muniz stares, and it's several seconds before you see that tiny, dreadful shift in his eyes. "You mean you weren't scheduled to be Patterned, right? It was because—"
"We were out of communication with each other for twenty minutes, Cox and me, right after we burned Davenport. I didn't think anything of it, except 'Crazy Ivan'. For sure I didn't take Knotts by the ear and tell her that Cox was out of communication so maybe he oughta get Patterned so we can be sure he's Cox and not—" You draw a ragged breath. "But Cox, he looks at me, and he thinks—"
"Paranoia keeps us alive," Muniz says. "And you both got a clean bill of health, of course."
"Yes," you sigh. "We're both exactly who we're supposed to be. Which ain't as much of a comfort as you might think, since my opinion of the real Cox at the moment ain't much better than your opinion of Stoddard."
Your personal cell phone has been tweeting, and you answer it. It's Knotts: "Heya, can you come backstage? Like, soon?" she asks in that cheerful, bird-like tone she uses when something really dreadful is up and she's trying to disguise it.
"Sure, I'm just around the corner anyway, eating with Muniz."
"Great! Saves me a call, tell him to come in with you."
Nngh. "Some kind of big heap Injun pow-wow," you tell him as you hang up, and you and he dump your garbage and head out.
* * * * *
Lucille is back at her desk when you arrive, and you know it's her because Stoddard is sitting in one of the chairs in Dey's outer office. "Is everyone coming in?" you ask him.
"I guess. Lamb and Stanfill got back this morning. Knotts is briefing 'em in Dey's office. Hey Muniz," he adds. "How's your ex-fiancée?"
"Bite me, you ex-jeep."
Stoddard grins, then looks around your shoulder. Chiyoko appears, wearing the traditional kimono and with her hair pinned up. She kneels and hands Stoddard a paper plate with a donut on it. "Good bitch," Stoddard says. "Can she get anything for you guys?"
"That's okay," you say.
"It would be my honor and pleasure," the girl says meekly, but you and Muniz both demur.
"Well, stick around, bitch," Stoddard says. "There's gonna be twelve of us to service in a bit, and we'll keep you busy." Chiyoko withdraws to a corner, to stand with her hands clasped.
* * * * *
Within thirty minutes there's a crowd milling about the office, including Lamb and Stanfill. Knotts finally sticks her head out long enough to summon everyone into Dey's office. The whale, though, isn't there.
You all settle around a conference table, and it's then that you notice only eleven of your dozen are in attendance. So when Knotts starts to speak, you raise your hand. "Should we wait for Chernov?"
"No," she says quietly, and folds her hands. "That's what this meeting's about. Chernov is dead."  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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