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

slide down and fill up the troughs until all is level grey death grey

death level death . . ,

Then shrieks of laughter pierced my dull mind. Fainey-Juveh

was holding Praliya’s hands, they talking quietly. We three looked

up towards the antechamber where we had left our softsuits. In the

doorless arch little Pixr faced us, herself arched back with childish

hips stuck forward, hung like a warhorse with a bejewelled metal

codpiece clumsily strapped on her, making believe to piss like a boy

into the plumed helmet that Limini with slight embarrassment and

much mirth was holding out. ‘Pssssss,’ said Pixr clutching her giant

platinum phallus, ‘pssss, pssssssss.’ Shrieked with laughter, mouth

stretched to let it out and teeth and teeth and teeth, eyes slitted,

head almost falling off backwards. Limini bubbling, watching us a

little.

From out of death I doubled up and laughed and wept laughter.

And Fainey-Juveh and Praliya choking-chuckling, saying ‘Oh no,

oh no, oh no.’ The anchorage of my diaphragm beneath my ribs

hurt with the violence of laughing. Until we were gasping and I saw

Fainey-Juveh’s eyes and he mine and we broke out again, and Pixr

the pisser pissing and pissing into the king’s ceremonial hat until it

was full and overflowing and no longer quite so hilarious and we

laughing with tortured sides at the memory of laughter. Gasping

and gasping.

On the way back through the silent magnificent (oh, it was, after

all) tomb-palace, but Limini and Pixr irrepressible, I said, ‘I’ll try

and call Kolissa, if I may.’

‘I was going to suggest it,’ he said.

I placed the call without difficulty, excepting the incredible

delays. Nature and reasons for communication? Personal greeting

to contractual spouse following three month absence from

Otzapoc. (Wait, cup of coffee, attempts at conversation.) Reason

for absence? To collect funds held by friend on Greenball. (Wait.)

Call permitted. Hi Kolissa, love. (I felt strange.) How was she? I

was fine, staying with some real nice people, with a ride down

already arranged when it became possible. I spoke of Orry and

Fiormaria. I said I loved her. I spoke of incidental things. And

then, goodbye, all my love always. The message fled away on the

tardy wings of light.

Later — oh, later, another eon for Sesemene’s shell to endure in

Jagging

225

serenity while I waited — a reply came. Kolissa’s voice. She was

fine, a bit bored with the work. So O rry and Fior were dug in on

Greenball. Would they ever leave the place? She herself had lived

the cloistered life in my absence. The hospital people were nice,

good fun, mostly. She was well, never better. She loved me, couldn’t

wait for my return, loved me. And goodbye. We had said nothing of

revolution or archaeology.

From then on I could not sit still. Pacing from room to room at

his luxurious camp. Playing chess with himself. Talking flippantly

or philosophically with Praliya. And fooling around, teasing, horsing with Limini and Pixr. Oh, their Great Walls of China teeth!

Pacing and wanting, reading late at night and wanting, wanting

Kolissa. But who said Jahenry couldn’t pull off a civilised bloodless

coup — and Berlit get a villa in Terengay for his not compulsory

but highly recommended retirement? W'here had all those hel-

meted booted black-goggled gun-packing rapists come from? I felt

slightly ashamed.

The day came a week and a half later when Praliya, Limini and

Pixr all kissed me goodbye, Pixr in tears and me promising to try

very hard to get back to see them bringing Kolissa, me warmed by

this love and the love I was returning to, and Fainey-Juveh flipping

Sleezy and me round Trivash’s slagball to the freighter. Then up

and away, the old joy pum ping through my veins, the old jagging

joy, joy of the jag, another world dropping away beneath me

(Limini and Pixr, Praliya and strange Claudian Fainey-Juveh, will

I never see you again?) (Sesemene I’ll not regret, but you’ll be with

me always), Kolissa, Pm coming back at last . . .

Jag on .