Nymphomation(97)

‘It’s Daisy. Can I come in?’

‘No.’

‘Jaz!’

‘Go away.’

Daisy went away. It was seven o’clock. She went down to the cellar, where her father and Joe were busy at the computer, working on the new maze. She tried to get interested, but Jazir kept coming back to her. He was the one putting himself in the most danger. Was it all worth it? This business with Frank Scenario had really got to him. If he should…

Daisy went back upstairs. Hours to kill. She looked in the library to check on Celia. The girl was still there, just staring out of the window, lost in her own world.

That was it, wasn’t it? They were, all five of them, lost in their own little worlds, their own little mazes. Only the games had brought them together. Daisy thought about this for a while in the kitchen, making herself a sandwich. Her and her father, for instance, would they be this close if the dominoes hadn’t started? No. Daisy and Jazir, this much love between them? No. No way. It was like the dominoes had broken down Daisy’s barriers. And if they succeeded with tonight’s plan; if the dominoes were killed, would her new love die with them? She had to be grateful, she had to be…

Later, she went back up to Jazir’s room. This time he called her in at the first knock. ‘But be careful’, he added, ‘with the door.’

Daisy opened it just enough to squeeze through. It was very dark inside, and heavy with breathing life. She felt the walls were moving, fluttering with smoky patterns, whispers. Jazir was standing by the window, gazing out. Over his shoulder Daisy could see the lights of the House of Chances, calling out to all the players.

‘Jaz…’ She didn’t dare move.

‘Quietly… gently…’ he whispered.

‘It’s nearly eight. We should…’

‘Come here. Walk slowly.’

She did so, one slow step after another, across the room. Walking through a living thing, it felt like, where one false move could… Shit!

Daisy banged into a chair. It fell over with a loud clatter and sent forth an echo around the walls which bulged…

‘Bloody hell!’ cried Jazir.

The walls breathed into trembling flight as hundreds of blurbflies rose from their perches. Around the darkness they flew; harder, darker pieces of the sky, set free from the night. Many of them converged on Daisy’s stumbling shape, ready to attack and bite and give new messages, and she was screaming now, until Jazir made a weird sound with his tongue, a sort of rasping call that settled the blurbs into a new pattern. Some of them were still crawling over Daisy’s clothes, one even in her hair. The dry crackle of wings. She didn’t dare move.

‘It’s OK,’ said Jazir. ‘I’ve told them who you are. Come closer.’

Daisy stepped forward, letting the blurbs gently rise from her body. Jazir turned to her. She couldn’t make him out properly, just a blurred, pulsating shape like one of the fractals they had watched on the computer…

‘Jaz!’ She could hardly breathe.

Jazir’s entire form was covered in gentle blurbs. A suit of dark flies, whispering the many pleasures of flight.

Daisy gave him the feather. ‘Celia wanted you to have this.’

Jazir laughed, and the feather, its green and its gold, were the only colours in the room.





Play to win


Max Hackle had spent the same night, the same day, locked in a tiny cell somewhere within the House of Chances. Chief Executive Crawl had promised an audience soon with ‘the great leader’, but that had been hours ago. He was fed every so often by another employee, a small man who said nothing as he pushed the food through the half-open door.

Max had no way of knowing the time. They had taken his watch. His only companion of the last hours had been the faithful Horny George, a greasy fragment of a dream, the cursor of a simple soul. Max had tried to sleep, only to be plagued by nightmares. Inside him, all the wanderers fought for possession. If he could keep the Joker Bone at bay for just a while longer. Just enough to kill the Million.

It was a battle. Already he had felt Nigel subsuming Dopejack. Knowledge breeding knowledge. Evil thoughts. Only Benny, Sweet Benny, a presence he could barely feel, still whispered of love. The Joker was getting angry at Hackle for trying to resist. Let him get angry.

Sometime later the door opened fully, and Executive Crawl stepped in. ‘Good evening, Professor. I trust you slept well.’

Hackle smiled, weakly.

‘Mister Million will see you now. This way please.’

It was eight o’clock.

At the same time, the Dark Fractals started their final run. They had set up a table in the centre of the maze, where Daisy and her father faced each other over a shuffled set of dominoes. Jimmy had placed another box beside the first. ‘What’s that?’ asked Daisy. ‘Another set,’ he replied. ‘Found them in the library. Just in case.’