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Authors: John Sladek

BOOK: Bugs
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There was a pause, then a voice said: ‘Greetings. I have an important message for you, concerning a money-making offer –’

He had hung up before he became fully conscious of the Japanese accent.

At 6
A.M.
he was still awake. He turned on the radio.

‘– nado watch is in effect until noon. In the national news, another well-known medication is being recalled: Fedohar capsules, made by Porkin and Howe Laboratories. In North Bend, Oregon, two boxes of Fedohar have been tampered with – they contain the poisonous metal arsenic. So far, no one knows exactly how the poison got into the boxes, but a company spokesperson said …’

The phone rang again while he was in the bathroom. He returned to hear the message.

‘Darlink, how would you like a hundred Gs, a lifetime supply of wodka, and a brand new Chaika? This really is last offer.’ Her voice had a trace of the enforced gaiety of game-show announcers as they listed their prizes.

He phoned the department secretary at 8
A.M.,
to say that he would be working at home today. At 8.07, Rain phoned him.

‘I understand you’re working at home today. Shall I come over?’

‘I – no. Really, Rain, I’ve work to do.
Work
.’

‘I wouldn’t disturb you.’

‘It’s all very well for you to say that, my sweet, but I know you too well. After you’d been here five minutes, you’d slip the blasted handcuffs on. It’s simply not on, darling. Love you madly, but I can’t.’

After a pause, she said: ‘All right. Just don’t forget, I’m the reason you’ve got a job of work to do.’

‘Right-o. Cheery-bye.’ He was slipping from Richard Hannay into Bertie Wooster.

‘One more thing. I’m getting a bit tired of Robert Donat.’

‘Oh?’

‘Maybe you could be somebody else.’

‘I say! How about Ian Carmichael?’

She paused. ‘No, I was thinking of someone more … more like Richard Burton.’

‘Christ. How about Peter Sellers, then? With Peter Sellers I could just do him impersonating someone like me, and end up being more or less myself.’

‘I was thinking more of Michael Caine. Alfie.’

‘All right, girl, keep your ‘air on. Half a mo’.’ It sounded more like Alfie Bass to him, but she seemed to like it. “Ere, what’s your game, girl?’

‘When am I going to see you, Alfie?’

‘Tell you what. I’ll give you a tinkle tomorrow, right? Pop round for a little slap and tickle, that’s my girl. Ta-da.’ He remembered to pronounce it
tinkow
and
tickow
. This was getting old fast, but how to drop it? Rain was willing to pay for his impersonations (in theory, at least. At the Moholy-Nagy she’d forgotten her chequebook) and no doubt she would generously buy him horn-rim glasses and a Harold Wilson raincoat, but she was also willing to threaten his job. If she ever became even slightly bored …

A few minutes later, the phone rang again. Once more a recorded message from the Japanese. They wanted to offer him fifty thousand dollars and a high-powered motorcycle.

The phone continued to ring throughout the morning. Fellini called to deliver one of his incomprehensible sales-talks. Then a man with a name something like Simon Stylite introduced himself as from the IRS.

‘The IRS?’

‘The Internal Revenue Service, Mr Jones. I’m calling about your income tax.’

‘I haven’t paid any. I’ve only just come into the country.’

The man sounded interested. ‘Is that so? Are you planning on leaving again, sir? Any time soon?’

‘Could be. My plans are uncertain.’

After a long pause, the man said: ‘I see. I should warn you, sir, our records show considerable income or potential
income for you, on which you have not yet paid estimated tax. If you pay it soon, we may agree to waive all penalties.’

‘What considerable income?’

‘We know you have received at least one large sum, and that you have been promised certain even larger sums, in consulting fees for various trade missions. You do realize that these moneys are taxable income, Mr Jones? In addition to your salaried employment, and to any earnings from your corporation.’

‘My corporation? I don’t have a –’

‘Heh, heh. You’re not playing with amateurs, Mr Jones. We’ve seen it all before, using slight variations on your name – so we find the president of your corporation to be
Mansour Efrahim
Jones, while a major stockholder is
Manfred Evelyn
Jones. But I see only one social security number here. The paper trail always leads back to you.’

‘No, really, there’s been a mix-up –’

‘Thank you for your co-operation, Mr Jones.’

The next call was from Boswell. ‘Manny? Hey, man, what in hell is going on? I thought we were soul brothers, man. Now you got this dude phoning me up to say he’s suing Vexxo. Suing us!’

‘What
dude
would that be?’

‘Another M. E. Jones. You mind telling me what the hell is going on? I just don’t understand. I mean, this guy is claiming
discrimination
. He says Vexxo, I mean Vimnut, or was it Cyberk – anyway, he says we discriminated against him, we hired some white when he was better-qualified for the job. Manny, a thing like this could finish me. I just don’t understand how it could happen. Can you come in and talk about this?’

‘No, I can’t come in today.’

‘It really looks like some kinda scam to me. What do you think? Maybe I should talk to the law.’

‘I wouldn’t bother the law about this,’ Fred said casually. I’ll try to straighten it out myself.’

‘But how? What can you do? Manny, I gotta talk to
somebody. How about if I come over and see you? I want to show you this guy’s job application. Something funny about it.’

Fred started to stall once more, but Boswell was gone. There was nothing for it but to phone Manse.

‘Yeah, sure I’m suing Vexxo. You oughta be pleased. Hey, it’s your money at work. The first thing it finances is my litigation. I’ll be suing the piss out of Vexxo, or whatever their name is this week. They hired you, a white who was far less qualified than me. I’ll clean up on this. We both will.’

‘You’ll clean up, and I’ll go to prison.’

‘You worry too much.’

‘Listen, the IRS is after me. They think I’m you.’

‘Well, are you?’

A few minutes later, the phone rang again.

‘Hello?’

After a pause, a Japanese voice said: ‘Greetings. I have an important message for you –’

Fred tore the phone cord out of the wall.

The room was strangely hot and still, as though the disconnected phone had released its shrill energy into the air. Fred slumped into a chair and sat like an unstrung marionette, unwilling to think of any reason for moving. After some time, he became aware of a distant sound – someone banging at the front door of the house.

It was Moira, looking distrait. ‘I’ve been trying and trying to phone you,’ she said. ‘M’s been stolen.’

‘Stolen! What do you mean?’

At that moment, an air-raid siren went off, quite nearby.

‘I say, they’re making quite a lot of it, aren’t they? Cranking up the sirens and all?’

‘Don’t be silly, that’s the tornado warning,’ she said. ‘We’d better get inside.’

‘By all means. Should be safe in my basement flat. A real twister, eh? Like Dorothy in
Oz
.’ He was aware of sounding a fool, but there was no way of stopping. ‘I don’t think we’re
in Kansas any more. Judy Garland and, let’s see, Bert Lahr, Ray Bolger – but who played the Tin Woodman, I wonder?’

‘Shut up,’ Moira said. She was looking around the room. ‘Why is there only one chair?’

‘There’s the bed.’

‘You would like that, wouldn’t you?’ Her tone was accusing. ‘But where’s the rest of your furniture?’

‘Oh, I had them remove the billiard-table and the three-piece suite to the east wing. You get tired of possessions.’ He offered her the chair. ‘Now, what’s all this about someone stealing M?’

‘Last night, they worked late finishing him and doing some preliminary tests. Jerry said they left about midnight.’

‘Yes?’

‘This morning at seven, Porch found the lab door standing open. M was gone.’

Porch was Ratface. How could you believe anything he said?

‘Did they call the police?’

‘Yes, and the FBI.’

‘Come now, isn’t that a bit melodramatic?’ He envisioned an army of men in suits and hats, unpacking their Thompson submachine-guns and preparing to surround Ma Barker’s hideout.

‘There could be foreign agents involved,’ she said. His vision altered slightly – the agents were throwing their cordon around him and KK. Some studied the condo with field-glasses, while others loaded their automatic shotguns …

‘It’s so hot in here,’ Moira said. ‘Have you got anything to drink?’

‘You mean like beer?’

She gave him a don’t-try-to-get-me-drunk look. ‘I mean like iced tea.’

As it happened, a previous tenant had left in his cupboard a jar of something called iced tea mix. He mixed her up a glass of this swill, which smelt like cold dishwater with
lemon-flavoured washing-up liquid. She seemed to like it. He opened himself a can of weak beer.

‘Better close the windows,’ she said.

Outside, the day was clear and sunny.

‘Are you sure about these tornado warnings?’ he asked. ‘I hate to close windows when it’s already stifling in here. Look how clear the sky is.’

‘Turn on the TV and we can see how it’s doing.’

The usual long desk with three smiling heads at it.

‘Bob, the big news locally is of course the tornado warning, in effect for three more hours over most of Hennepin, Ramsey and Carver counties, and that included the metro area. And we’ll be looking at the radar again in just a moment. Other stories: the city council of Bloomington today came one step nearer to approving final plans for a megamall.’

(‘They could roof over the entire city,’ said Fred. ‘They could call it Bloomingdale.’ ‘Shh.’)

‘And someone has kidnapped a
robot
from Vexxo Corporation in Paradise Valley.’

‘A robot kidnapping! I wonder if this is a news first.’

‘Yes, a robot named Model M was kidnapped – or I should say stolen? – from a laboratory at Vexxo in the early hours of this morning. But it’s not entirely a laughing matter, Bob. Evidently this particular robot has military applications, so the FBI is looking into it. In fact we’ve just learned that Hallicrafter Porch, one of the people involved in building the robot, is being questioned by the FBI about his involvement with a South Korean trade mission.’

Ratface doing a deal with the Koreans! How typical! No doubt stole the thing and sold it to them.

‘Now we’re going over to Fosdyke Berm in the weather room for a tornado flash.’

In the weather room, a man stood before a map on which a slowly writhing green mass was engulfing the Twin Cities.

‘We’ve had reports of funnels in Westpark and Morestone, but no touchdowns yet. The storm mass is revolving and
moving south and east, as you see here, and should be passing over the southern metro area in the next few minutes. We advise everyone in the affected area to take shelter. Go indoors, to the basement, or to a small inner room. Keep away from windows. If you are outdoors in your car, get out and take shelter in a culvert, or else lie down in a ditch. Tornadoes are usually accompanied by strong winds, violent thunderstorms, heavy rain or hail, and deadly lightning.’

Fred looked at the writhing bright green mass on the screen. Then he went to the window and looked out at the sky. It was darkening rapidly, and turning an odd colour. Almost green.

‘Hold me,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid.’

She held him. She kissed him. He held her. He kissed her.

‘Oh, Mister Boss!’

And when the tornado came roaring by with the sound of an express train in a tunnel they hardly noticed.

Chapter Sixteen
 
 

‘I was right about you all the time,’ she said, yawning. ‘You were trying … to get in my pants. Men are all … rapists.’

‘I hate sentences with
all
in them. Anyway, why is making love such a bad idea?’

‘Because it’s just a way that all men belittle women.’

‘All men
what?’
He heard it as
all men be little women
.

‘Belittle women. You never took me seriously, any of my ideas. All you thought about was this.’ She pointed to her cunt.

‘Not a bit of it.’

But Fred knew it was true. He could not take seriously any of her programming ideas, because he didn’t have a clue about programming. The only other idea she had expressed was her barmy notion of hermaphroditic electrical plugsockets.

‘You underestimate yourself,’ he said. It seemed a safe California thing to say. ‘That’s why you think others are belittling you. Give yourself a break.’

‘You’re right, in a sense. I grew up being the centre of attention but never taken seriously.’

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