NeuroNex.
But the logo was all wrong.
"That's no comet!"
The kid's finger was wiggling in the chamber, intersecting with the NeuroNex logo. His voice had risen to just shy of a screech. "It, san! It!"
And then I saw what he meant. Underlining the NeuroNex name was a stylized neuron trailing a long axon — all silvery gray in color. It did look like a comet.
Found it!
Noticed the kid looking at me with something like adoration in his eyes.
"You plenty smartee, Dreyer-san."
"If I were really smart," I said, trying to hide my dismay as I stared at the NeuroNex logo, "I wouldn't be involved in this at all."
"Where place?"
"Doesn't matter," I told him. "Place is closed now anyway. Be open tomorrow. I'll come back then."
"We — "
"No! I. Me. Alone. You can't get into a NeuroNex shop — no minors allowed — and you might give it away if you did." Stood up. "Come on. Time to get back to the island."
He was pouting as I guided him to the tube platform. The pod came and I spent most of the trip home staring through the wall at the progession of lighted stops and semidark in-betweens, thinking of NeuroNex.
NeuroNex. I hadn't included it in the sort, probably because I hadn't wanted to see that name.
Of all the places that could have been involved, why did it have to be NeuroNex?
Something bumped my arm. Looked around and saw that the urch had fallen asleep and was leaning against me. The other people on the tube probably thought he was my kid. He shivered in his sleep. Put my arm over his shoulder. Just to keep up appearances.
— 9-
"My stop's next," I said, jostling him awake. Got to my feet as he yawned and stretched.
"Tired," he said. "Sleep y'place, san?"
Shook my head. "No chance."
He looked surprised. "Please? Tired. Nev spen night in real compartment."
"Haven't missed much. Once you're asleep it's all the same. Besides, I've got work to do. Can't have an urch hanging around."
"I can help," he said in his best Realpeople talk.
Could see he was getting too attached, imprinted on me like some baby duck. Had to introduce a little distance here.
"No, you can't. Check with my office in a couple of days. May have something for you then."
The tube stopped and I got out. Walking away, I felt his hurt gaze on my back like a weight until the tube shot him further downtown. Could have used some company but I had to be alone tonight. No witnesses.
Learning that the "comet" we had been seeking was part of the NeuroNex logo was pushing me toward a decision. A big one. One I wasn't sure I was ready for yet.
Years ago, NeuroNex had wired me for my button. Now NeuroNex — or at least this particular branch office — was linked to the snatches and deaths of a couple of urchins. And I'd managed to get myself tractored into finding out the who, the why, and the wherefore.
Which meant I had to find a way of presenting myself to NeuroNex and asking lots of questions without raising too much suspicion. There was a foolproof way of for me to do that: Get myself unbuttoned.
Not a pretty prospect. Been preparing myself to have it done, been planning to have it done…someday. But not so soon. Next year maybe. Next quarter maybe. Sure as hell not tomorrow.
Not tomorrow!
But what better way to get next to NeuroNex? Tried desperately to think of one and came up blank.
Dropped into my new formchair — just like Elmero's — and buttoned it to adjust to my posture. Sat there looking down the hall through my door. Watched for a while but nothing was moving out there so I rode the chair over to the button drawer and opened it. Sat staring at those little gold disks. A lot of money invested in those things over the years. Some where played out but I kept them anyway. Nostalgia, maybe. The Good Old Days — when a good simple single-input orgasm was quite enough for a long while. But then I graduated to doubles, then triples. My latest was a five-couple orgy multi-channeled into a slow build that crescendoed through a series of minor eruptions into a major simultaneous explosion.
Picked it out of the pile and backed the chair into the middle of the compartment, turning so my back was to Lynnie's holo. As the chair reclined supineward, I hesitated.
Shouldn't do this, I told myself. You've been weaning yourself down all year now. Three weeks now without buttoning up once. A record. As good as clean. Why set yourself back now? The day after tomorrow will be a lot easier if you put that damn thing back in the drawer right now and go to sleep.
Good arguments. Made a lot of sense. But they couldn't overcome one little slice of reality: After I was unbuttoned tomorrow, there'd be no choice for me unless I decided to get rewired, and that wouldn't be possible for at least half a year. Tonight was it. After this, I'd be like the rest of the walkarounds except there'd be a part of me so callused by years of buttoning that no one in the real world could get through to it. An importent part of me would be permanently — or almost permanently — numb. Needed one last jolt, one last hit, for old times' sake. Auld Lang Syne. No rational arguments were going to keep me from buttoning up one last time.
Was just fitting the button into the dimple in my scalp when I noticed movement through the door. Held off and watched the urchin steal down the hall toward my compartment. Felt my jaw muscles tighten. If that little bastard thought he was going to barge in here and whimper and whine his way into spending the night, he had another think coming. Needed my privacy, needed to be by myself for a — He didn't knock or push the buzzer. Just stood there looking at the door for a moment, then slipped to the floor and curled up with his back to me.
The little glitch was going to spend the night camped outside my door and he wasn't even going to tell me!
Watched the slow rise and fall of his skinny little back as he dropped off to sleep. Fingered the button in my hand. Could still button up just like I'd planned The door was soundproof and he'd never know what I was doing.
But I'd know he was there.
Stared at him. He looked so frail lying there, scootching around to get comfortable. Thought of him staying there on the hard floor all night in the cold white light while I slept calm and soft in my dark compartment.
So what? It was his choice, wasn't it? He could have been back with his gang now, sleeping with them. Safe. Secure. Underground. In the old subway tunnels.
Sighed and floated the chair over to the drawer, dropped the button back in, then returned to the door. Maybe it was for the best, I told myself. Make it easier in the morning…and all the empty nights thereafter.
Opaqued the door — saw no use in letting him in on that little secret — and slid it open. Nudged him with my foot.
"Get in here!" I said in an angry hiss. "What'll the neighbors say if they see you out here?"
He gave me a shy smile as he stumbled to his feet. Growling, I pointed him toward the couch and turned out the lights.
— 10-
B.B. had the big thrill of waking up in a real compartment and eating a compartment breakfast. Even let him take my allotted shower for the day — a super-filamentous thrill. After he was finished and dressed, I sent him on his way happy, clean, and smiling, telling him I'd meet him at the office later.
When I was sure he was gone, I emptied my button drawer into the pocket of my jumper and headed for the tubes. Tried to keep my mind blank as I headed for Boedekker North. Didn't want to think about what I was going to have done to myself this morning.