by Caldon Mull
“You think I could get a show in? Like usual?” Esteban tucked his feet in as the clock placed a pitcher and glasses on the table.
“Sure thing, I’ve loaded your Zonedance set.” Ramon positioned a mini-deck and plugged a lead into a port at his wrist. “We don’t have as much time tonight, want to take what I’ve got? Thirty minutes to warm up the punters?”
“Sure thing.” Esteban grinned gleefully, trotting to the dance floor as a beat increased in volume and the lights changed and dipped “You drive, pump it”
***
The Doctor watched Esteban as Ramon toggled the deck.
He looked up at her “It’s a ‘classical music’ mix that I’ve build up for him over the years. He has the weirdest taste, so the crowd drops big cred for his show. I stream background content to the waiters smart-cloth capes upstairs, so they know there’s a show. I have a surprise guest lined up he doesn’t know about.”
“Has he always moved like that?” she whispered.
“Oh yes, even before the conversion.” Ramon smirked, “It’s how we met up on Earth.”
“What do you have lined up tonight?” she asked, eyes still locked on the swaying form on the dance floor. The tune throbbed and launched into a scat: …gengengengengengengengen…
“For him?” Ramon glanced up and saw her still watching Esteban, “The Marlena Shaw sample, followed by ‘Cities in Dust’ because we’re on Mars. Next we’ll ‘Enjoy the Silence’ because it’s fashionable, then ‘It’s my Life’ because he likes to talk-talk. Those ones are great for the crowd upstairs, all those earth-scene shots and animals that nobody has seen for centuries. Last we’ll ‘Fade to Grey’ and then finish with his signature tune from Tori and Armand.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She said.
“I know, you’ll just have to wait like everyone else.” Ramon smirked, “You’re recording this, aren’t you?”
“Yes I am.”
“I thought you were on contract as his Body Guard. Molly at the door sent me through your scans.” Ramon toggled on the fade and the waiters and clocks smart-cloth displayed a man with an ermine cloak walking alone with a deck chair through beautiful Earth landscapes.
“Same contractor, different contract.” She shrugged “He really can move his hips like a snake.”
“That could get messy, juggling contracts.” Ramon loaded the smart-fabric buffer queues, “You don’t remember us working together before, do you?”
“Details of contracts are confidential. They go into encrypted archives at my personal Compliance Net at the end of the contract. If we ever had a contract, you would know better than to ask.”
“As you say, Doctor da Silva.” Ramon’s fingers danced on his deck, “If you’re with him, then he’s as safe as he can be.” The beat changed and faded into the bridge, ‘Oh honey bring it close to my lips…’ “If you don’t remember what you did for me, I at least do.”
“How long has he been doing this?”
“All along. He takes leave to come here twice a year and Zonedances the crap out of this place. Now I give him the floor and charge tickets. The year’s Zonedance finalists get one shot at his crown. Tonight isn’t the final he’s thinking it is, it is much, much more.” A green icon hovered on his deck pending queue.
“How so?”
“It’ll be quicker to wait and see for yourself. I suggest you keep your recording on. My Club contract prevents me from recording or broadcasting… but a private record of this night, well, that’s golden.” Ramon grinned, on the dance floor Esteban was winding down as the audio throbbed ‘size size size size size size…’
Esteban took a bow and moved back towards the booth. He settled back and reached for a bottle of water, to the Doctor it looked like he was enjoying himself immensely.
Ramon grinned at them, then flicked his deck to projection and his holographic avatar loomed large above the dance floor.
“Buena’s Nochas and welcome to Le Petit. Tonight is a spectacular night, we have seen our reigning champion warming up and as you can agree, he is definitely in outstanding form; muy hermoso. Who is to challenge him for this years crown, when no-one can come close to his outstanding performance? Who indeed?
“As to who…? Who better to beat a Student than their Teacher? Who better to knock the crown than someone who handed it over… Tonight, for the first time in twenty-two years a public appearance … I present for you, our very own La viejita Dona Senora Mercedes and the Flamenco baile.”
“No way!” Esteban’s eyes were wide with surprise as he whispered.
The Doctor watched as a whip-cord slender figure took to the dance floor in a ruby and turquoise banded dress, with a long frilled tail and with orange ruffles separating the bands.
Her snow-white hair was secured in a hive with ivory combs and trailing strings of jet beads. She took her position in the center stage in the hushed room and after a few moments began with a slow rhythm of castanets, and followed with a more insistent series of taps.
Each arm and head position was precise and measured through long practice, as the rhythm clikka-casta-clikka-casta-clikka-clikka rolled, and rolled and then picked up to match the tocco- tocco-tocco-tocco, plante-plante! rhythm of her foot work.
“Ole! es baile!” the exclamations from the booth section rattled over the floor.
Her dress tail swept out and snapped like a peacock’s tail and swirled back like an enameled bell in a cathedral tower.
“Ole!” the crowd exploded.
Just when the Doctor thought the woman couldn’t possibly add any more craft to the dance, she started a slow pirouette to add to the motion of the tail-snap which lifted the orange ruffles into whirling bands around her body.
The Doctor realized that her jaw had dropped as the castanets rhythm picked up to match the insistent heel thrumming with the crowd exclaiming ole! with each dress snap on the arc, Ole! Ole! Ole!
Then the Dona Senora raised her arms in a rolling motion as she pirouetted around the floor until her hands and the snapping castanet’s were fully extended, clikka-tocco-clikka-tocco-casta-casta-tocco-tocco-plante!plante! It was over.
The room was silent for heartbeats and then erupted into cheers and whistles.
Ramon’s floating avatar shimmered into view above the dance floors, “We will count votes for the next thirty minutes, find a waiter or a clock, press your thumb of either of the two candidates displayed on their capes. Starting… now!”
Esteban trotted to the floor and offered his arm to walk the lady to the booth. She accepted his arm and tread regally beside him to join Ramon and the Doctor.
“You’re still magnificent, Dona Senora.” Esteban breathed, all grins and smiles. “You haven’t changed at all.”
“But you have, Esteban.” Dona Mercedes ran her hand over his cheek tenderly, “So gringo now… what happened to my dark-skinned blatino genius, who wanted to dance so badly that he persuaded the boss of the thugs that beat him on the way to my studio, to escort him instead.”
“I’m still here, Dona Mercedes, under this shell.” Esteban’s face flickered with a darker emotion, “I did this so that we could all come here. My father, too. Without what we did, there was no joining the Fleet.”
“Now you and me and your thug are here, together on Mars. The gravity favors my knees for one more dance like this. Ramon told me that you were coming tonight, and I knew this was my last chance.”
“For what Dona Mercedes?”
“If I win tonight, Esteban, then you will dance the Mapalé with me. That will be my last performance ever.”
“But… we last danced on earth, before everything… and the Fleet. That was over twenty years ago…”
“Yes, the last Mapalé danced on Earth, and the first to be danced on Mars. Some things Cartagena must keep alive, to honor our traditions.”
“Dona Mercedes, it’s been twenty-”
“Esteban! The Mapalé is a dance performed by slaves by the river among the reeds, a
celebration of surviving in a new land, of the fish that fed them and the sex that strengthened their bonds.” Dona Mercedes sipped at a cocktail, “The Mapalé is in your blood, many generations of dancers lead down time and place to you. I have never seen a better Mapalé dancer, before or since. When I take this crown, you will dance with me for Cartagena and on Mars. Your body will remember the dance.”
“You mean if, Dona Senora Mercedes.” Ramon shrugged. “You were over eighty on Earth already.”
“No, my sweet little thug with your heart of gold,” Dona Mercedes smiled and patted his cheek, “I mean when. Besides which, I’ve always shaved a few years off my age. I’ll get changed for the set. Excuse me.”
The Doctor watched, her lenses etched with the miserable look on Esteban’s face.
“She’s not joking. She was never one to dabble with uncertainty.” Ramon smiled, “She’s pulled ahead on votes and it’s unlikely she’ll lose this now, Esteban. What do you need?”
“How about that loincloth on Charon over there?” Esteban gestured, “At least I’d get to see him in the buff if I take it.”
Ramon gestured and the young man came over, as Esteban kicked off his boots and slipped out of his suit, “I’m sure she knew that watching you dance always made me hard, that I’d have you in the garden before I’d walk you home. I just get to look at you now.”
“I miss those days, to be honest.” Esteban secured the loincloth, “It doesn’t have to cover me, I suppose. It represents the poverty of the enslaved. I could just as well be naked, or in a reed skirt. Ramon, I’m not sure I can do this anymore.” Esteban sighed and hung his head, “That the conversion…”
“Esteban!” Ramon whispered insistently, “Listen to me. You’re bigger and stronger than you have ever been, you’re been sculpted to perfection. You’re still you, still meat and blood under all that synthwork. The youth born to the Mapalé . Dona Mercedes has never been wrong about you… or about me, for that matter. Trust yourself, get to the place where we used to go together after the dancing, in the garden. Start from there.”
“So Doctor, do you think I should do this?” Esteban looked over to where she was watching him.
“I think you want to keep Zone dancing, that this is important to you.” She shrugged, “You need to stick to the rules to stay in the game.”
“It’s time.” Ramon’s fingers danced over his deck. “Dona Mercedes has seventy percent of the vote. I’ll post the vote and give her the vox. She wanted to say something first. Are you ready?”
“Si.” Esteban gulped from the pitcher. “Let’s just do this.”
Ramon’s avatar danced above the floor, “You’ve seen the votes, you’ve seen the score, friends of LePetit… I present to you the 2226 winner of the Zonedance, Dona Senora Mercedes for her perfect Flamenco baile.”
The Doctor turned to watch as the woman walked to the center of the floor; barefoot in a plain two-piece bikini, a tassel of synthetic horse-hair draped over her firm buttocks.
“Patrons, guests, welcome! Tonight, I challenge the runner up to join me for my last performance. Tonight, we dance the Mapalé … on Mars!”
The Doctor watched as the Dona Senora gestured to Ramon for the lights and the music started. She thought it sounded raw, repetitive a cadence of ta-Dah-ta, Tah-da-ta, ta-da-Tah-da.
The Dona Senora spun and swayed, her lithe hips whipping the horse-tail behind her in a manner reminiscent of her snapping flamenco dress as she completed a slow spiral, feet and hips gliding as she spun. She stopped in place of the start of her circuit and swayed slowly as Esteban entered the circle of the dance floor lights, his oak-stain synthetic skin clinging tightly to his heavy musculature.
His thighs bulged as he pumped his feet against the floor and he spiraled as she had, but in the opposite direction. As he reached her position, he sank to the floor and stretched out on his belly, pumping his hips and grinding his groin against the floor.
“The movement imitates sex, as well as the last movements of a landed fish in the mud beside the river.” Ramon whispered over the Doctors recording as Esteban rolled smoothly onto his back, planted his feet and pumped his hips into the air with arced back. The Dona Senora stepped over him, swaying and undulating her hips as his heavy phallus swung pendulously and bounced off his taught abdomen.
“There are three more movements from here. Lift, Arc and Swing.” Ramon continued softly over the ta-Dah-ta, Tah-da-ta, ta-da-Tah-da, “You need strength, balance and a certain familiarity to complete the dance. You’ll see.”
Esteban rose from his position in a single smooth uncoiling, one moment his back was arched, the next he had rolled onto his feet to a standing position, scooping the Dona Senora with him, her legs outstretched and holding her stance with clasped knees aside his neck.
He spun slowly in place; his arms outstretched and spinning the extended woman from her single contact point on neck and shoulder.
The Doctor nearly blinked at the next passé, but long habit kept the recording clear. Esteban placed a hand in the small of her back and lifted her off his neck and up above his head while maintaining his slow pirouette.
She marveled as he held the Dona Senora aloft, his spine taught, his strength concentrated in a pure line, holding her above him for another series of ta-Dah-ta, Tah-da-ta, ta-da-Tah-da.
“Wait for it…” Ramon said quietly.
She gasped as Esteban’s buttocks clenched as he pushed the Dona Senora into the air, only to catch her at wrist and ankle and swing her around at his arms length. On the seventh swing, the Dona Senora brought her free knee up and Esteban righted her, released her ankle in a smooth movement and slipped that hand into the small of her back.
He tucked her against his body as he sank to one knee, folding her protectively against the skin of his torso as he extended his right leg behind him.
She draped her bent knee over his thigh and pressed her cheek against his chest on the last ta-da-Tah-da. Esteban sank his face onto the top of her head while extending his right arm and stopped moving in that position.
Ramon flipped the lights off as they held in that position.
The Doctor stopped her recording, and blinked moisture against her lenses. “Magnificent.” She whispered.
“The Mapalé on Mars.” Ramon brought up the lights as the applause rang through the room. “A moment that could only happen here in Cartagena, and will never happen again. This could be a signature piece for humanity on Mars.”
“I only take care of his body, Ramon.” The Doctor folded her hands in her lap and looked down at the dance floor where the Dona Senora and Esteban were taking their bows.
***
Esteban kissed the Dona Senora on the cheek as the lights brightened and the applause and whistles rolled out to them. “This is your moment now. Thank you, Dona Senora. I’ll be sure to stop by the next time I’m in town.” He whispered and left her to the adulation flowing from the booths.
He stepped from the dance floor and made his way back to the booth. Ramon and the Doctor were watching him as he flipped off the loincloth and put his suit back on. Charon retrieved it after putting another pitcher into the table and a few liters of water bottles beside it, winked at Esteban and glided back to his tables.
Esteban gulped at the water, not being able to sweat through his synthskin had practical disadvantages that the UroQt only mostly compensated for.
“Doctor, we should go.” Esteban smiled fondly at the attention being heaped on the Dona Senora, “The rest of the night belongs to her.”
“Take care of yourself, chica.” Ramon glanced up from his deck, “Let me know when you’re back in town.”
“I will do, guapo.” Esteban leaned over and kissed his cheek, “Thank you for setting this up.”
They walked through the level in the dimmed light, the rare observation port showed only a dark orange tint as the storm whipped outside and took a pod back to the hotel level. Esteban was silent, a pang of nostalgia rang through him. The
Doctor walked beside him without feeling the need to break his silence.
As they walked through the Lobby to check in, Esteban dialed ‘expression 26’ from his catalogue and collected his key pass from the Front Desk. “Hey, Martin,” he smiled at the clerk, “I’m going to need a pillow in about twenty minutes. Do you think you could bring one to my room?”
“Si, Senor Esteban.” Martin beamed at him. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
#
Esteban awoke with a start, his veep channel throbbed with alert queues from Pele. He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed amidst the rumpled, stained linen and scattered pillows. His muscles complained pleasantly, and he felt agreeable despite the disturbance.
“What?” he opened his veep channel.
“Esteban! Wake up, we need to get moving.” The avatar pulsed urgently.
“What’s going on?” Esteban reached for a water bottle and his clothes.
“We’ve got an alert from the shuttle. Someone has followed us here.” Pele buzzed back.
“How do you know this?” Esteban tugged on his boots and sniffed his fingers. He could still smell Martin on his skin.
“I handle all the dispatches, I told me… or rather Starmind_core gave me a heads-up.”
“What now?” Esteban felt an icy fear creep up inside him.
“They’ll trace the hangar to the hotel booking for this pilot clock. I’ve got to switch the hotel booking systems to disconnect me from you two in the log records.”
“What do we do with your room?” The Doctor joined the veep.
“Set up your diagnostics table there for Esteban. That’ll explain the connections and the data use. I’ll set up a dummy clock-room and abandon it after a check-in.” Pele said after a few seconds of processing.