"I'll see what I can find out," Tableau's inside man promised, knowing that he'd be well compensated for his efforts.
Adrian Tableau disconnected, then looked up at Mr. Jones, who loomed above him like a statue. "If Fukuda has hurt a hair on her head," he growled, "I'll skin that fuck alive. And I'll skin his daughter alive in front of him, before I do."
A peripheral movement caused Tableau to look up and see a blob of fresh feces splatted against the inner wall of the hominid's cell. It was glaring out at him defiantly.
"Jones," Tableau said, "you know how people crack open the skulls of living monkeys to eat their brains?"
"Yes, sir."
"Find me a chef who can do that."
CHAPTER TWELVE
going down
With her long hair gathered up in a loose pony-tail, Javier put a hand on the back of Mira's neck, but lightly, not so much guiding her head's movements as integrating himself with them. Meshed gears in a machine of pleasure. He leaned back slightly against the edge of the sink. His navel was at the level of her forehead. Both of them had removed their clothes, but neither had stepped into the shower. He stared down at her body. Her entire legs-plump and awkwardly bent-didn't even reach the level of his knees, but her torso was nearly of regular proportion and he admired the distended sphere of her bottom.
The pleasure was becoming too intense. He pulled back from her, reached down to that rounded bottom, took its cheeks in his hands and hoisted her up. Her legs hooked over his. With a gasp, looking in his face, she let him inside. He was afraid to hurt her, watched her eyes, but her mouth gaped open in something other than pain or protest. She put hands as small and dimpled as those of a toddler on his face, drew it to hers. Their tongues slithered over each other in a frenzy.
Javier turned them around and lowered Mira to the counter beside the sink. Bent over her. Her squat legs poked up, tiny feet resting on his hips. Again they stared into each other's eyes. Her face was beautiful; anyone would say it. His gaze drifted down her smooth chest, perfect skin pulled taut across it. Back to her eyes again. Her head was at a slight angle. He saw the purple veins almost lost in the black hair at her temples. Remembered her gift. Was she reading his mind just then? It unsettled him. If so, what was she seeing? Because he wasn't sure what was inside there, himself.
Then she panted, "Patryk."
"What?" Javier rasped, working toward his orgasm. He flinched. There was a loud knocking at the door of the bathroom, and Patryk's voice on the other side of it.
"Javier, you in there?"
"Yeah, hold on!" he yelled, angry. "I've gotta finish my shower!"
"Okay. Um, I just wanted to show you something."
"I'll be right there!" In a softer voice he hissed, "Can't leave my babies alone for a second!"
Mira smiled up at him, embarrassed. And flushed. And with something else shining in her large dark eyes that made Javier uncomfortable, weirdly sick in his guts. Something that made his heart beat faster with more than just exertion.
Javier showered quickly so he'd reappear with wet hair, but from the looks that greeted him and Mira it didn't seem like the others were buying it. Satin, in his cybernetic pony, remarked, "Feeling all refreshed now, are we?" Javier ignored him, turning his attention to Patryk. Nhu pouted as Patryk extended the wrist comp that had been confiscated from her.
"I found blueprints for Steward Gardens on the net," he announced. "Filed with the Paxton Zoning Office."
"Good man," Javier told him. "What can we use?"
"There's a generator in the cellar, like she guessed." The tall youth nodded at Mira. "And a brainframe tied into all systems."
"An organic brain? A, what do you call it."
"Encephalon," Mira said.
"Yeah," said Patryk.
"Nhu." Javier turned to her. "You're the techie. You think you could tap into that? Shut off these Blank People?"
"I could try," she sulked, "but-"
"I think there's something better than that idea," Patryk cut in. He tapped the device with a finger to draw Javier closer. The gang chief positioned his face directly above the little screen. Suddenly, the connection with his brain made, the image there filled the much larger screen of his mind. Patryk explained what he was seeing. "There's a maintenance chute down there. It connects up directly with the town system." "Meaning?"
"It looks like we could get into the sewers. If we can do that, then we can pretty much go anywhere we want in the city."
Javier looked up at him, slipping his brain out of the wrist comp's enveloping sleeve. "Yeah?"
"It will be locked, I'm sure. The town doesn't want just anybody getting down into the sewers. But they do, anyway. So there's got to be a way in. If me or Nhu can't hack it, then maybe we can just force our way. Blast it if we have to."
Javier showed his sneer-like grin. "Man, I've gotta give you a raise."
"You've got to give me a salary first," Patryk replied.
Javier turned to address the others in the conjoined gangs. "Hey. Saddle it up. Looks like we're getting out of here, peoples."
At the rear of Steward Gardens's B-Wing, behind the central area which on the ground level had served as a function room, the five remaining Tin Town Terata showed the seven remaining Folger Street Snarlers to the elevators that gave access to the two floors above. And to the basement level below.
They had taken all their essentials. Patryk had his backpack with their scant food and collected communication devices. And everyone had their weapons. As they neared the elevators, Satin- moving along in his insect-like manner-said to Mott, "If you were smart you'd dissolve the body of your friend before you go. If the forcers find him here later, they'll come to Folger Street and question you."
"Blast you! I'm not melting my friend. Anyway, I don't have any plasma."
Satin held up his formidable Decimator .220 revolver. "I do. Green plasma, man, the best stuff. It won't leave anything. Eat his flesh, his bones, his clothes, his…"
Mott stopped and looked ready to go for his own gun. "I told you, freak, nobody's gonna melt my friend!"
"Hey." Javier looked back at them. "You two shut it and get over here."
"Anyway," the dreadlock-headed Choom grumbled, "our insignia is sprayed outside. If the forcers want to find us, they'll find us. Nothing we can do about that now. You got some bodies of your own back there in 5-B, don't forget."
"Yeah, but they don't have tattoos and gang gear like you punks do."
Javier contemplated the twin elevators. "I don't know. I'd hate to box myself in one of these and have it get stuck. If that brain down there is controlling the Blanks and the trash zapper, who's to say it won't purposely seal us inside a lift?"
"Didn't happen to us," slurred Nick, the mutant with the deflated-looking head.
"Well, you took a risk I don't wanna repeat. Come on."
Javier led them instead toward the stairwell and hoisted the metal door open. They began to descend, the metal steps clanging under their feet.
Struggling with them, Mira said, "I just hope we can get the basement door open. We haven't been able to before."
"I'll try my skeleton card," said Nhu, referring to the blank data card she had loaded with countless randomly generated key codes, using her home computer system.
Javier glanced at Mira as they tramped down the steps side by side. In a low voice, he asked her, "You okay?"
"Okay? In what way?"