Grey

“Can’t you help me,” I asked the woman. “Please?”

“You got money?” she asked. “You with Segu or Bunny or what?”

I glanced at the logo on the front of Bunny’s shirt, but didn’t know what she meant. And since I didn’t carry any money, I didn’t know what to offer. Touching my chest, I said, “What about my Mr. Cedar jacket?”

She curled a lip. “That thing?”

It was Bunny who touched the fabric. “Weird thing is,” he said, “you’re covered with shit, but the knit is all sweet and pretty.”

While I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t an awful knit, I thought better of it. “It’s self-cleaning,” I said, hoping it might impress them. “It also has a temperature control system. My tailor is famous. He’s from outside Seattlehama. It’s probably worth…” Since I had never directly paid, I had no idea. “Maybe seventy-five billion?”

I saw green and red bits of food on Bunny’s tongue when he laughed. “You’re a fucking round sugar pill. Stupid and blank.”

“I’m not sure exactly,” I said. “My family buys them.”

His fist came at me in a blur and hit me in the gut. Next, I was on the ground trying to get air back into my lungs.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, wiping the drip from his nose. “I’m intelligent, disease-boy! And your ugly, gray, sick jacket isn’t even worth a good shit.”

As the woman came to my side, she said, “You’ve got a bad testosterone imbalance!” to Bunny.

“Fuck you!” he screamed, then opened a small jar and tossed several tiny emerald tablets onto his tongue.

When the rest of the men teased Bunny, he hit the back of the woman’s head and knocked her across me. As three others helped her up, I saw that the lid on her belly had fallen off. Inside was a wrinkled daffodil of purple and pink flesh. I turned away as she grabbed the lid and snapped it back on.

“No looking,” said Kandi angrily. “That’s ten right there!”

“You contaminated whore!” said Bunny. “I’m taking him in for recycling. You take all your fake cunts and get out!”

“Go have a cell storm!” she scoffed. From a beaded red bag, she got out a pill and popped it into her mouth. As though it gave her strength, she stood, and said, “Don’t get near me.” She grasped my arm, yanked me up, and nearly dislocated my shoulder. I tried not to cry out. “Come on,” she said, tugging my hand, “we’re going.”

“No, you’re not!” Bunny grasped my other arm and the two of them played tug-of-war with me. I lost my footing, and when she let go, fell face first in the mud.

Then I heard shouting and feet going in all directions. Pushing myself up, I saw three large men dressed in orange satin skiing down the sandy embankment where I had fallen. Family satins! I was saved.

The one in front, who wore a helmet with a gold visor, hoisted a clear fashion rifle to his shoulder. He fired. An orange streak zipped through the air. To my right, I heard a soft thud. Someone in the distance screamed. Then it was quiet.

“Michael Rivers?” asked the satin in the gold visor, as he stepped before me.

“Yes.” I coughed. “Thank you.”

Grasping me under the arms, he lifted me, and threw me over his shoulder. From there, I could see Kandi face up in the mud. Blood covered her implant. No! I thought, not her!

The Loop was blocked in both directions and an air-conditioned tent had been set up. To the left sat Ken, Xavid, and the film crew on folding chairs. On a puffy, orange, over-inflated marshmallow of a couch were Father and one of his women, like king and queen of the Loop. In his right hand he held a glass of his fermented carrot gunk. With his big pink straw, he idly poked at the stuff.

He wore white pants with little blinking blue dots all over them, a red shirt with RiverGroup logos and fornicating bunnies, and a tiny, frosty green vest that looked like it might properly fit an infant. His current girl had orange hair, blue lips, and the sort of haughty, upturned nose that he preferred. Her frilly, awful pink and green dress ended at her midriff so the whole world could see the orange-painted treats inside her translucent bloomers. I didn’t see Joelene and figured he forbid her.

The satin had set me before them on a wooden crate. My whole body hurt. My right elbow throbbed as if it were shattered. When I wiped my mouth, I saw a brilliant smear of blood on the back of my hand. And even seated, I had trouble keeping myself upright. All I wanted was to be put out of my misery.

“So,” said Father, “how’s things?” He laughed, winked toward his ever-present film crew, and then nudged the girl who had become absorbed with a tiny golden robot that lived in her navel. Seemingly annoyed that he hadn’t gotten a big laugh, he said, “Hold this, spaceship!” and thrust his glass at her. After glancing at the hole in the Loop wall, he asked, “What were you thinking? First, it’s illegal to go into the slubs. They are the enemy. The families are gonna fine us big for this. And second, they’re all drugged-up savages down there. It’s hell. There’s no system, and there’s not one good satin.”

Pointing at Gold Visor, I said, “He killed that woman!”

“He did not!” He stood and stretched his back. “Besides she’s one of those stupid bellybutton whores anyway. That’s like so old!” Then he turned to the right, held his chin with a hand, as if trying to look philosophical or letting the camera soak up his profile. “What we’re doing—and I’m saying this because you don’t seem to be catching on—is we’re talking about family. And we are a family. I’m the dad; you’re the son. It’s a natural thing for us to be at odds at times. It’s how it goes with fathers and sons.” He glanced at the girl. She nodded weakly. “And as I see it, the funny thing is, we’re the same in so many ways. I know you don’t see it, but I do.”

“Is she really ok?”

“You used a fuckin’ tranquilizer?” he asked the satin.

“Sir!” Was he replied.

“There!” said Father. “Anyway, my dad, Alexander Rivers, built RiverGroup—”

“I’ve heard this a trillion times,” I interrupted.

“A trillion and one!” he screamed. “Anyway, Dad was a fuckin’ genius. He invented the little box; he programmed it so it kept things secret and secure and just right, and soon, everyone had to have one. And low and behold, RiverGroup becomes so big the controlling families have to let us in. We’re part of the system: we vote on the rules and kick ass when necessary. We’re lard. Hard lard.” Shaking his head sadly, he added, “He was so completely super-super smart! Do you even understand what he did?”

I nodded, because I wanted him to stop. My head and spine were throbbing. “Where’s my advisor?”

“You don’t need her! Be a man for once.” Squinting, he paused. Then his eyes shot back and forth. “Right!” he said, snapping his fingers, “anyway, Dad invented a way to completely cloak something. You could send it from A and it arrived at B, but in the middle, it was gone. It was vanished. It literally did not exist. Or you could put whatever you needed in the box and no one but you could get it. No one. Ever. Completely and totally secure because until you looked inside, it didn’t exist.” He laughed. “I think about how crazy genius that was every single day.” He waved to Ken and Xavid and asked, “Right? Dad was a super genius?” Ken gave two thumbs up. Xavid nodded vigorously, then pushed up his huge amber glasses. “So, there’s money and power, and more money, and more power and then… and then came me!” Holding up his arms as if to the gods above, he screamed, “Then came Hiro Bruce Rivers!”

His arms flopped to his sides. His head fell onto his chest. “I had to come along and fuck it all up. Even before the freeboot shot you, I had done a pretty good job of ruining the whole damn thing.” He shook his head. “I’m the biggest idiot in the world!”

“No, you’re not!” said the girl, with her bottom lip sticking far out.

“Thanks,” said Father, coochie-cooing the girl’s chin.

Ken spoke up. “It’s a difficult time. Very difficult time.”

“You’ve done exceptionally!” added Xavid.

“You guys are too much,” he said, exhaling a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be here without you two!” He faced me and continued. “So anyway, Dad croaks. We have him cremated, sprinkle his ashes on a bunch of naked high school girls playing volleyball, and I take over. And since that instant—since that exact instant —everything went butt rocket.” As an aside, he added, “All you can argue is how fast.” Then he laughed at himself. “So, my fabulous, giant, and genius point is,” he said, as if trying to regain his momentum, “I’m sorry. I screwed up.