Damien Broderick - Strange Attractors by Original (pdf) (no david read aloud txt) 📕

gleaming teeth because they knew no other expression than smiling and open-mouthed laughing — their pageboy hair

ebony black, their elfish upswept eyes black too or brown so dark

that their pupils were not visible in shining jewel irises. Even then,

while they were still shy of me the stranger from black space, they

laughed enough for me as they stood clinging to Fainey-Juveh’s

long fingers squealing in the bone-fine voices of little animals —

‘Hello hello hello’

‘Hello hello hello hello’

‘Welcome M r Spiragel M r Spiragel’

‘M r Spiragel welcome’

‘Welcome’

(cannoning the words breathlessly)

‘W hat’s your first name?’

‘Yes what’s your first name?’

‘Can we use it?’

‘Can we?’

‘Can we?’

(Fainey-Juveh and happy Praliya watching the three of us)

I said, ‘Bandito — Bandy.’

‘Welcome Bandy Bandy’

‘Bandy Bandy’

‘Bandy Bandy’

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Anthony Peacey

‘Bandy SpirageF

‘Bandy Spiragel’

‘BAN-dy Spir-AH-geF

‘Ban-DEE SpirageF

‘Bandy Spira-GEL’

‘Bandy Bandy Spir-AH-geF

‘Bandy SprAAAgel SprAAAgeF

‘Bandy SprAAAgel . . .

Their lovely mother (also dark and elfin eyed) shushed them now

but rny name had become a bubbling spring of laughter and my

heart was smiling.

This was after Fainey-Juveh had picked them up, thrown them in

the air — surprisingly strong for so stooping and eyeglassed a man,

but he was tall in baggy clothes and horse-laughing.

Praliya comforted me in her quiet gliding m anner during my

disgusting drunk. It was she first gave me the booze when I asked

for it, and continued giving even when my veins ran pure alcohol

and my mind drooled. She would comfort but not coerce, nor even

guide — and anyway I spent most of my time in the room they gave

me. And no news came from Otzapoc. Fainey-Juveh remained

friendly in a distant sort of way but I hardly saw anything of him —

he seemed to have handed me over to Praliya to look after. But I

usually ate with them, except for a couple of occasions when I was

too repulsive to myself to burden them (she and the girls, mainly)

with my presence. Another ship had downed on Trivash just before

us to wait out the embargo. We didn’t see them, but talked, and

they offered to ride me to Otzapoc when it was lifted — to find

what? smoking ruins and . . . Reason could not dispel my nightmares. The dark frozen slag of Trivash had said Death to me as we circled down (me somewhere in the corridors of my brain still holding a picture of the emperors’ garden green and lilac skied) and Fainey-Juveh’s great festal celebratory opening of the most magnificent tomb of all time was shadowed, maybe even cancelled completely, I didn’t know, by the death of the big-hat archaeologist, and the alcohol was killing my brain cells at a million a day yet I soused

more upon them via my stinking throat . . .

Limini and Pixr got me out of it. True, I had been in love with

them from first seeing of them, in their gala gay red silk identical

overalls. They came into my room from time to time to laugh and

scold me for being drunk — they even told me Kolissa wouldn’t like

it, Kolissa whose name they had wrung from me with their fierce

Jagging

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demands. Now they confiscated a bottle and a half of Scotch — all I

had — and ordered me with sternness (from which they could not

exclude — that was impossible — their laughing teeth) to stop

drinking. This time they were dressed in short black pleated skirts

and white blouses; each wore a black gem around her neck, and

white strapped sandals set with similar stones. Drunkenly I loved

them, their amazing white rows of teeth, their black jewel sloping

eyes, their shining ebony hair, the shape of their childish legs. And

they smelt nice. They danced around me and bounced on the

sweaty tangled bed where I was lying.

‘You smell nice,’ I said, then worried drunkenly in case that was

too familiar a thing to say to prepubescent girls.

Limini screwed her girl-buddha face. ‘You smell horrible — you

stink.’

Pixr screwed her girl buddha slightly monkeyish face. ‘Stinky

stinky Spiragel, Stinky Spiragel, Stinky Spiragel.’

‘Stinky Spiragel, Stinky Spiragel . . . ’

I was full of shame and laughter, but that was the end of my

drunk. Oh lovely Limini and Pixr, will I never see you again?

Fainey-Juveh had decided to visit the tomb. With the official-

style