Caltraps of Time (22 page)

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~ * ~

Take It or Leave It

2000. 223. 08.42. Out of bed wrong side today. Trouble was, drier was cold. Following my shower, a freezing gale. Called up the man but took two hours to get through, and when I did get his ugly face on the screen he said it’ll be ten days till they can show up. Maggy says why not use the holiday wraps — towelling should absorb enough moisture if you rub and pat a bit — and pep the washroom up to 30. Suppose that’ll do. Have to. Then meanwhile the hairstyler got a bit cranky and aligned my second lock in front of my shoulder instead of the sine curve I’ve been used to, sod it. Johnny had to open his pharynx about it, too, young bug: ‘Your hair’s skew, Dad!’ Denise kidded me it was the sparrows. Maggy says I must have moved. One of these days
I
can tell, this is going to be. I hope
you’re
functioning anyway, sodding tape-set; play you back and see ... Good. And then when I pressed the news button I thought, I bet this’ll be black and so it was; this is, as black as they ever leak. As usual, the British news was cushy, only the exter news leaked much. Thousands dead in American riots, some of them fried by the cops and feds. (Ours only rinse, never heard of frying here.) Same thing in Japan and China and Russia, more or less. Between the lines, inter looked bad too: ‘The disorganization in Mersea is under active control. Prospective traffic from other megalopolises is advised to contact the police by prior call, during the next ten days.’ I’ve heard that one before. No motivation to visit in Mersea, luckily. Then the weathercast: why they have to keep the rain off the south and west and let it chuck it down all over Midlandia and the north I don’t know. I suppose the agric zones have to have their sun, but why at our expense? Depressing, I call it. All very well for the uppercrust with their ion fountains and their sunlighting.

~ * ~

Another day. Looks like showers. Feels like showers, too, from the ache in my bones. Sun’s still up in the north at the day-ends, shouldn’t be summer’s end for a month or two. How you feeling, Maggy love?

Well, stir the kids and see if they can’t find some hips. In spite of that cat last night, my innards are grumbling, dunno ‘bout yours ...

Look sharp, John. That hedge’ll have something on it by now. Watch out for the Gibsons, though. Now they’ve settled in the old helicopter, their Larry goes prowling early, and he’s grown up real strong. I’ve seen him down that far. Couple of stones sent him off last time, but it won’t always, and if you and him was to meet up there suddenly on your own, I wouldn’t back you, boy. Take the big catapult and four, five stones, do for a cat as well if you see one. The old fence post’ll come in handy too. We’ll be OK, with the aerial and the branch.

Wish my father had bought me a non-wind waterproof watch. It would have lasted through the river, and I’d know where we were so to speak. I think Mike Gibson must have one. Seen him looking at his wrist.

Have to look out a new battery if it gets much colder. You don’t know how to start a fire properly, do you, Jane? Denise’ll show you next time. First cool day after a dry stretch, we’ll have one; some of the doors and chairs’ll burn nicely, on the drive. Keep the bugs away too, if we leave a bit smouldering on the porch; too many in already. So long as we can keep the ants out. Plug the crack in the door with clay, Denise, and open the other door if it gets hot.

~ * ~

09.10. Johnny and Denise blasted off to the schoolab. Never guess they were fraternal twins if I didn’t know. The pre-inductee centre’s only five hundred metres off, but I worry sometimes. Jane’s infant centre doesn’t operate since the barons wrecked it the other night, but she looks in on edscreen here instead. Just now she’s working on her ‘tartriper’. This is what she used to call her talkwriter. She needs motivationing, though. According to Maggy it’s correctioning she wants; Maggy’s too hard on her.

Maggy’s set the clensomat and called up the instruction program she’s on about now — what is it? Light-sculptation. I suppose this means she’ll be on at me to get her a light-sculptor for Christmas. It’s time I called up supplies, not to mention the programming for the old megastore. This batch has to be a bugged sample. Which reminds me: I have to check again for bugs on our own cartons; I don’t fancy guinea-pigging for other firms. Maggy doesn’t know all their little dodges yet. Then I’ll have to mission the megastore this afternoon, I suppose.

I do hope Denise and Johnny are all right... No one would take them for fraternals, she images at least a year older, so we get all these disapproving stares when we’re togethering, from people that don’t have big families. Maggy decisioned to have Jane prior to her implant skinpill (she was getting allergic to the sniff method) — she said a third would keep the twins from fighting, when it grew up a bit, and it’s true they don’t resonate ... Someone actually propositioned Denise by paternoster three the other day. It’s these eyes, this height, this sexational hair. Took her for an inductee, shouldn’t wonder. Better than sexmurder, anyway.

Time for calling the megastore. My sight-aid? Here ...

~ * ~

That ceiling’s leaking. The rafter’s rotten above, I think. What say we look around for another pad? House-hunting’s hopeless, I know; places standing all occupied. Still, search around might turn up something. Don’t say anything to Jane; I’ll just have a wander, soon as John gets back.

Isn’t that Mike Gibson up the hill? Coming through the old gap? Hope he hasn’t seen John. Denise, climb upstairs and have a look round. Give that whistle if you want me up. Hell, there goes another meal; I’d have hit it if I hadn’t been looking after Gibson; cats always shoot past the gate now. Try and get that thrush, Maggy, your aim’s better.

~ * ~

10.05. Mail buzzer. First for six days. It was from Jim. A bit cagey, but clear Jessie’s not herself and something shorted with Bill. Jim never got this tape of mine, day 205, seems. It was the mail strike, I bet. I’ll try a remake. Reach him in five days, say. Or shall I just call him up?

10.31. No good. Been trying half-hour now. Half the channels are this way nowadays. I wonder, now, would it be quicker just to transportation it and visit with him? Let’s see: the block; the transit, say half-hour; the integrator, say twenty min; the HVT, one hundred fifty kilometres, say half-hour with acse and dece; at his end it’s multimode — say another half. Half-hour visiting — or say hour with lunch. Be back mid-afternoon, look in the megastore, OK, Maggy ...

10.41. She thought she could negative-pressure me, huh. No, I must mission him. Two-legs better. Calling-up’s hopeless, this channel. So long as he’s in. Can leave a notation, if he’s out. Take my notation-set, in case. Or get a spare one at a store his way: I’m not a nupe-watcher, if I’m shedding all this credit another nine pound won’t sink me. Even get a cassette and leave a tape after all. What’ll I get into? The yellow has this hole the time the barons — Maggy forgot to put it in the automend. No negentropy, this ma has; place is like a disability home. The old green, then. The red waywear, and carry floorwear, because he likes his floor cold. And sod it, I’ll take you; might want to record something while it’s hot, in transit. But Jim’s I’ll buy, if necessary. Set the responsomat for the megastore, in case. Be off in a micro.

~ * ~

Got him!... Give it to Ma, Jane. Well you hit it, you eat it; you can pick it too! Hey, was that ... What is it, Denise? See something? ... Yes, working round the back he is. Maybe it’s a dog he’s seen. Or a fox. Well, I wouldn’t whistle; never hear us through the pane, catch is all rusted up, and I don’t want to smash the glass just yet; besides, John’s blocked by those two buildings; he’d never hear anyway. Still, might turn Gibson. You run downstairs and scream through the doorway — just once. Then if I whistle scream again. Quick now — he’s creeping back.

Whhh!!

Too sharp he is, give me that aerial and a cata. Run up and lookout till one of us comes back.

~ * ~

11.17. Ran up against Mike Gibson from the next block; he was queuing for the transir. Why don’t you visit with us more often? he said. Says Larry’s doing fine. Told him I was off to Jim’s, but the transir intervalled us too far to finish the story. This higher-pigment type had slid between us, what Maggy’s programs call a real overtan — h’mhm ... Mike, as I was saying — oh here comes the terminal.

11.38. This must be a hill over there. Wonder where it is. It’s all cultured too, and the lumimobile gives it panash. Sodding rain, you need a splash of colour ... Travel broadens the mind ... Should’ve brought the instruxopak ... I’ll turn on the woosic.

12.11. This auto method’s fine. Last time it was self-drive waycars all the way. Of course you can personalization this kind too. Nice and low-volume too.

Do you know, I could have sworn this ma in the integrator called me a garnet, under her breath. Just because of this lot re the higher-pigment type ... How about the car woosic, now?

~ * ~

What the hell are you skulking up there for? ... Mind your own business and I’ll mind mine! ... You move a step and I’ll murder you, you thug! ... You dare move another step and I’ll bash your face in!... Keep off our manor, you thieving bastard or I’ll bash your head in! ... Don’t you dare come down any further! ... You come past that house and I’ll lay your face open! ... And you’re another! ... Scared are you, got to have your bloody brat to face me out, have you? Ya, Larry, that’s right, come rushing down, two against one, that’s right! ... All right, don’t you two come any further! You keep to your own manor, let me stay in mine! ... Attack women, would you? Threaten a woman, eh? Maggy’s worth two of you. Give it ‘em, Maggy! ... By hell, this is our house and the man that lays a finger on the hedge’ll be the last thing he ever does! ... Go home you bastards! Ya! Home! Ya!! Home!! Ya!!! Home!!! Virus get you, you bastards!!!

Hell, that was a near thing. I’m hoarse — aren’t you, Maggy? Thank you for turning up. I think John got away. Here he is, round the back. My, we drew ‘em off OK, didn’t we? Lucky they hadn’t any catas. Johnny my son, you made it. What, you got a — two hedgehogs, by hell! Smashing! Did they see you really, do you think? Who cares anyway, we’re all safe and sound, and two hedgehogs to the good. John, you’re a master! No, Denise, they won’t dare come right down. I think it was your mother that really put the fear of hell into them. Now what do you say to a fire and a clay bake? Johnny can keep a lookout at the front, just in case. Denise, you can be cook.

~ * ~

13.02. I’m at Jim’s. I’m putting
you
on, so’s we can have a record of our visit. Jessie’s off to rest, but we can dialogue.

‘You saw what she’s like. It started over Bill.’

What happened?

‘They beat him up. Bill. Barons. Working for the estate mafia
and having
a bit of fun on their own this time, I opinion. Last winter. Left him for dead near the lift shaft. Health squad got him in. Ended up in a cereb forty kilometres out—’

How’s this? Where did you say?

‘A cereb — a casualty home. He’s not classified for rehabilitation, only minimal prosthetics. So he’s there for good. I’ve been businessing all on my own ever since. Jessie visitationed twice:
this
set her back. Then she started thinking the mafia were after Juju — and him no more than an infant. Besides, I’ve always kept right side of them — monster gifts from the store, forgetting to program debits, exetra. And I’m all right with the block king too. AJCO he is —Junior Cleansing Officer. He’s all right if you stand dead still when he passes by, and stand him a drink at the drinkateria. It’s the ones with sexational wives and daughters need to worry ... No, the block king and the mafia are on my side. No fear there. Couldn’t get Jessie to see it, though.

‘Then she started saying she was a wicked woman, she’d neglected Bill, been the cause of it all, wasn’t worthy to live. By spring, I couldn’t do anything with her: she wouldn’t take any telemedication or even let me connection the diagnosticator. In the end I hooked the doctor (twenty thousand to care up on to, he’s hard to get) and he got her certified for temporary care. I was at my wit’s end re Juju; even when she was here I was scared she’d do something to him; but in the end I got Cousin Amy to mission up and care on to him. I only managed to visitation Jessie once, prior to the HVT engineers’ strike. Then she came back around day 180, but she’s still to be sedationed. They say she classificationed against metapsychic drugs, otherwise she’d have been rehabilitationed long ago. Agitated depression, they call it. Juju’s picked up a mob of fears from her kinky ways.’

But she’ll reclamation in time, with you, I expect?

‘A year or two, they said. And then things aren’t ideal here. The block alarm is pooff. Someone smashed it. If the corridor TVs haven’t registered the trouble, you have to call up the cops yourself- if the channel’s functioning. Takes ten minutes to get through, average. And they won’t act if they think it’s a mafia job.’

Sod it, I’ve left it fine. Got to get back and take in the megastore today. Your wall-chron’s slow by my wrist-chron. Listen, try and call me up every five, ten days. You might get better luck than I did on the channel. I’ll just look in on Jessie and off.

~ * ~

Maggy, I think I’ve found it. About an hour from here. It’s an old garage block, top of a hill. The house is fallen in, but the garages are OK. Face south-east. Good view all round. Marshy below the hill. That’ll keep ‘em off. Woods, old orchards, on the slope. Nettles, badgers, birds, cats, berries, apples, pears, snails, owls. No good hanging on here. Set off now. In twos, Johnny in the rear, keep each other just in sight. Whistle and we’ll freeze ... I don’t care if the Gibsons do think they’ve scared us out, Virus get ‘em. Get moving now.