He didn’t ask her to help him as he lifted her feet and slipped the red underpants over them, pulled the cotton briefs along her legs, pulled them over her knees, pushed her on her back to raise her legs, and pulled them to her waist. Then he rolled up the legs of her sweatpants and pulled the pants up to her waist. Socks went on easily and then the new running shoes. He lifted her arms over her head to put on her black T-shirt. When he pulled the shirt to her chest and touched her breasts, she grabbed him in her arms and pulled him to the bed, holding him.
Her lost language was in her hands, her lost skills, lost family, lost friends, lost education, all of her life made a ruin by NK3 rushed into her hands, which found their way around Hopper’s neck, back, around his waist, around his legs. She pressed her face into his neck, chest, pressed her lips against his face. She was trying to say something to Hopper: that she was grateful, but the thing in Hopper that made her grateful was buried as deep as the thing in her that wanted to tell him. They rubbed their bodies together, submitting to something to which they were an audience as much as they were the actors.
When they were done, Hopper said, “Madayinoosa.”
The shock of contact did not stimulate any greater clarity. She had no insight, didn’t know herself as someone with a past. She still belonged to the eternal present of the Shamblers.
Then she said it too: “Madayinoosa.” But Hopper couldn’t tell if she was repeating her name or just a sound that mattered to him.
It was eleven o’clock and his Silent Voice set out the plan. “Let her fall asleep. If you fall asleep, I’ll wake you up in two hours. That will give you time to get to the house and back before the sun comes up, and be on your way to find your wife. We won’t tell her about tonight. You’ll leave the woman here. She can find her way down in the morning, and go back to Figueroa and do whatever she does, whatever or however it happens. You have to get to the house tonight, before the Burn.”
Chief, Pippi, Committee Heads,
Shannon, Erin,
On either side of each step on the winding path to Chief’s terrace, candles in ceramic domes flickered through crescent-moon windows. Not even the heinous ravages of NK3, which ruined so much, could delete the way candles raised everyone’s appreciation of themselves. The night’s scent—sagebrush and juniper—was wet with the aroma of grilled lamb.
Sinatra walked beside ElderGoth. She was also unhappy about Shannon. “Chief gets excited and expects us all to follow. You know I’m always looking for reasons to complain about him, but enthusiasm seems to me to be a personal matter.”
Walking up the path, Monokeefe injected himself into Sinatra and ElderGoth’s conversation. “Are we talking about Shannon Squier?”
“Everyone is,” said ElderGoth.
“I think I saw Bruce Willis working one of the Burn gates today. Do you know his movies?”
“Why didn’t you stop him and bring him to verification?” ElderGoth asked.
“That’s not my job,” said Monokeefe. “And it might not have been Bruce Willis. I think most movie stars got out early and they’re alive and well breathing safe air on an island in the Pacific, or they’re dead because the places they hoped were safe turned out to be infected like home. But I’ll say this. I know the two of you resent me. The truth is, if it was Bruce Willis, I bet you that June Moulton would have told me to leave him, the same way she’ll tell us that it’s a mistake to verify Shannon Squier.”
Toby Tyler interrupted them. “Vayler, you’re making things difficult.”
“How’s that?” asked Sinatra.
“You didn’t hear? Security has to contain the Drifters now that Vayler isn’t taking them out of town.”
Vayler explained, “Chief had a big shopping list and there’s still a lot of houses to look at. And I know we’ll have to let them Burn.”
Chief came out of the house, wearing a T-shirt from Shannon’s last tour; the back was the tattoo. “We have a few hundred of these, brand-new. They were in a warehouse. Thank you, Vayler.”
He bowed to Chief. “At your service.”
Sinatra was angry with this. He didn’t like Chief, because he didn’t really like anyone, but he wanted Chief to keep his power and if Chief was collecting old things because they were rare, he shouldn’t be wearing something that any one of a few hundred could put on. He poured a glass of whiskey that was eighteen years old when bottled, but how old was it now? What was the point of protecting this new society if it behaved like the first one? What is this world anyway, he asked himself. Birthed by a weapon from a world of war, how different could it make itself?
Chief held a brass bowl on a small pillow and ran a wooden dowel around the inside of the rim, making the bowl sing. The small crowd settled in a fan around him.
“Thank you all for coming. We’re having a little feast tonight in honor of our newest arrival. We don’t remember her from before, but we know her music, more than anyone else’s, made the leap across the gap between before and now. There’s so much from the past that none of us can understand or may ever understand. We know from what we read that a composer named Mozart was supposed to be great. There are thousands of different records of his music, but none of us can hear him in a way that makes sense. Why were the Beatles famous? I’ll give a complete set of their music to anyone who wants it. I don’t know. As June says, let’s not lie to ourselves. There are emotions from the past that music connected to, and since we aren’t capable of those emotions, the music can’t find its way in. Think of music as a password to what used to be called the soul. We’re looking for the passwords to computer systems, but you know what it is to open a drawer and find the passwords to computers that have disappeared. It’s like the key to a house after the fire in a Burn Zone. That’s what most music is like. So why, of all the musicians of the past, does Shannon Squier still affect us? Because she was already living in the future when she made her music, because NK3 was the expression of the coming rupture, a break in history that was inevitable. She was here before the rest of us, before the world caught up with her. Shannon, please come out now.”
Chief led the applause. Sinatra kept one hand on his drink and the other in his pocket.
Pippi and Erin brought Shannon out of the house, dressed only in a plaid skirt like the one in her video.
Erin turned Shannon around so the group could see the Smersh tattoo.
“I don’t want to put any pressure on our new friend. I just want you to meet her.” He saw the goose bumps on Shannon’s arms. “She’s cold. Are you cold?”
Shannon didn’t say anything.
“Pippi, take her inside and get her dressed in something warm.”
“Are you cold?” Pippi asked Shannon.
“A little.” Shannon found her eyes meeting the eyes of this woman with red pigtails. “Did they find you the way they found me?”
“I don’t think so.” Then she added, “I’m waiting for someone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Pippi took Shannon away, rubbing her back. As the heat built up in her hand, Pippi could feel the colors and lines of the singer’s tattoo. It wasn’t that the tattoo was giving her another picture of itself. This was a different attribute of the tattoo, discovered only through a warm hand. Pippi ran both hands over Shannon’s back, turned her to face the wall, and, with the full tattoo available, drew her fingertips over the dragon until the dragon woke up. The rest was the familiar blur of Center Camp sex, over in a harsh agony that always released just before the tension touched the edges of something that Pippi wanted to last forever.
When they were done, Shannon put her hand on Pippi’s )’( brand.
“Why do you have that?”
“Everyone inside the Fence has it.”
“Why didn’t they give it to me?”
“They’re afraid of you.”
“I like it. But I wo
n’t get it.”
When Pippi returned to the group with Shannon wearing one of Pippi’s hundred wedding dresses, they were at Chief’s long table eating the lamb. Shannon hadn’t eaten freshly butchered meat in four years. She picked at the food with her hands. Erin tried to show her how to use a fork, but Chief waved her away.
“This is Center Camp. Not prison. Let her be. Radical expression.”
Pippi put the fork in the singer’s hand and stabbed the meat with it.
Shannon kissed Pippi’s brand scar.
Toby Tyler called out, “Chief, what do you have in mind for our guest? What are you thinking?”
“Nothing, just her company.”
“Don’t you want her to sing?”
“I wouldn’t impose that on her. It’s been too long. No pressure.”
Shannon ate without reacting to the talk of which she was the center.
“What do you want her for?” It was June Moulton. “For us or them?” Everyone knew that by them, the mythologist meant the Second Wavers and the Drifters who lived outside the Fence.
Chief deflected. “Does she have an aura? When you look at her face, can you imagine her doing or being anything other than who she was?”
Moulton didn’t answer and asked nothing else.
When dinner was over, they cleared the table and washed the dishes.
Chief removed himself from conversation with the committee leaders and walked away, a withdrawal that caught Sinatra’s attention while he was scrubbing a serving platter too large for the dishwasher. He handed the dish to June Moulton and found Chief outside, in the hot tub with Shannon, Pippi, Erin, and Toby Tyler. Sinatra slipped out of his own clothes and sat between Erin and Toby.
Chief’s hands played underwater with Erin, who had only had sex with Chief a few times. “Sinatra, what do you think? You saw her first? Was there anything different about her?”
Chief wanted him to say yes. He said, “Absolutely.”
Pippi felt Shannon’s back again, felt the dragon slipping under her skin, and this time the dragon had a message: “He’s on the way.”
Hopper, Madeinusa, Tesla
“Wake up.” It was Hopper’s Silent Voice. “Time to go.” It was an hour past midnight.
Hopper’s left foot was between both of Madeinusa’s. He moved slowly, and her breathing didn’t change as he pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. His clothes were on the floor. He didn’t remember taking them off. He felt rested, and ready.
Figueroa was still busy. He could see the lights of the Burn prep night crews on the other side of the rubble wall. The lights weren’t everywhere and he knew how to hide from people who weren’t looking for him.
The woman woke up as he was putting on his shoes.
“Madeinusa,” she said.
“I’m hungry and I’m going to get some food. I’ll bring back enough for both of us, so you can stay here and sleep.”
“Madeinusa.” She got out of bed and hugged him with stiff arms.
Hopper didn’t have enough wire or rope to tie her up. It was better to just take her back down to Figueroa and leave her in the crowd where he found her, but clean now, so maybe no one would bother her.
They took the elevator down and she tried to hug him again and he pushed her away. She watched the numbers run backward and as the elevator passed each floor she said her name, “Madeinusa, Madeinusa, Madeinusa.” When the doors opened to the lobby, they could hear the Bottle Bangers.
“Don’t worry,” said Hopper. They crossed Figueroa to the food truck. A small line waited for spaghetti tossed in oil, while a squad of pigeons at their feet pecked at scraps. Hopper ordered two plates and then moved aside, ignoring what was becoming a stream of hate from his Silent Voice.
“I will punish you Hopper don’t make me destroy you let her go I beg you this is bad please Hopper you have a mission I’ll protect you don’t give up now I’m warning you.”
If his Silent Voice had not distracted him, Hopper might have seen Tesla in time to hide before Tesla saw him. He called to Hopper from across the street. “Papa BangBang has a question. He wants to know what are you doing with that Shambler? What’s the deal? You can’t dress them up.”
Hopper’s Silent Voice said, “Just walk away from him.”
“We’re hungry,” said Hopper.
“But what are you doing with her all dressed up?”
“I have to go,” said Hopper. He felt the pressure to say more, and say it with more words, but he didn’t have them.
The server in the truck told Hopper their food was ready. Hopper took the plates and gave one to Madeinusa. She lowered her face to the food and scooped it into her mouth.
“You’re actually feeding her? Look at this. She eats like a dog.”
His Silent Voice said, “You’re on your own. You’re a mistake.”
“She’s hungry,” said Hopper, to Tesla, to his Silent Voice.
“You have some rehab. Anyone can see that, but this bitch is running on empty. Has she ever said a word to you?”
“We have to go.” He nodded for Madeinusa to follow him, but Tesla stood in his way. The others in the line were watching them.
“I’m First Wave. You, no. Her, definitely no. But I want her. I’m going to take her.”
The cook called out to Tesla: “Your order is ready.”
Hopper’s Silent Voice returned. “Leave her with him.”
Madeinusa spilled the potatoes on her shirt. “I have to get her changed,” said Hopper and put a hand out for Madeinusa.
“Then good-bye,” said Tesla.
Hopper walked Madeinusa back to the hotel while Tesla ate.
They were a block away when Tesla caught up with them.
“I was just having fun with you.”
They were at the door to the Hilton and Tesla followed them in. The bartender arranging bottles in the lobby bar said hello. The Second Waver vacuuming the lobby rug said hello. The Cecilia said, “Burn tomorrow night. Burn tomorrow night.”
Hopper wasn’t sure if he’d seen this one before. He needed to get away now that he had only this night, and Tesla wouldn’t leave them alone.
“We can have a party with her. I want to have a party with her. We can spit roast her. You take the head or the rear. I’m happy either way. And so is she.”
“I have to go,” was all Hopper could say.
Hopper pulled her into the elevator and pushed Tesla back.
As the elevator went up, Madeinusa said her name every time the number of the floor changed.
“Madeinusa. Madeinusa. Madeinusa. Madeinusa.”
Hopper didn’t want to leave her tied up but he didn’t see any other way to keep her from following him. When they got into the room, he closed the door. She sat on the bed and reached for him.
“Stay there. That’s good.”
There was a reading lamp on the room’s desk and he yanked the plug from the wall and then tore the wire from the lamp’s base. He grabbed Madeinusa’s hands as they reached to him and pulled them behind her back and tied them together. He didn’t apologize and she didn’t fight.
“The cleaners come in the morning. They will find you. They’ll let you go. I have to leave now.”
He closed the door behind him and it locked automatically. On the ride to the lobby he said his own name a few times as the light blinked at each floor.
When the elevator opened at the lobby, he saw Tesla talking to the Cecilia. Tesla didn’t see him and Hopper passed behind him and was out the door when he saw Tesla take the elevator. Hopper went back inside and asked the Cecilia: “What was he doing?”
“He wanted to know your room number and I sent him up.”
Hopper went back to the elevator. He said his own name as the numbers changed.
A First Wave couple, dressed as Indians
in buckskin outfits taken from the costume warehouse of Universal Studios, came out of the room next to Hopper’s as he stood by the door. He could hear Tesla inside, belligerent and indistinct, but wanted the couple to leave before he opened the door. It was too late to pretend he was at the wrong door so he pretended to search his pockets for the key card. They were less interested in Hopper than he was in them, and soon enough they were gone.
He pushed the keycard into the slot, the light turned green, and he was in the room. Madeinusa was naked on the bed, her wrists bound to the legs of the bed by electric cord. Tesla was naked on top of her.
“You have to wait for your turn,” said Tesla, as Hopper grabbed the desk lamp and brought the corner of the square base into Tesla’s head. Tesla rolled sideways and pushed himself up with his hands. He pulled the lamp from Hopper’s hands, but Hopper held on to the cord and wrapped it in his fist. Tesla threw three quick punches at Hopper, but on the third swing, Hopper dropped the lamp and lowered his head, running into Tesla, lifting him and throwing him over the balcony. The man’s voice changed pitch as he fell away from the balcony. Hopper watched him hit the ground and when people from the sidewalk looked up to see where the man had come from, Hopper stepped back into the room.
“We have to leave now,” said Hopper. He shut the balcony door and pulled the curtain to close it, then turned off the room’s light. He slipped Tesla’s ID card, his bottle, and his banging stick into the clothing bag.
Taking Madeinusa’s hand, he passed the elevator and led her down the fire stairs, past the lobby, to the garage.
The garage was filled with Ferraris, Maseratis, and Bentleys. There were security cameras on the walls. He took Tesla’s bottle out of the bag and wrapped his arm around Madeinusa’s neck and followed the exit signs up the ramp out of the garage.
It had been five minutes since killing Tesla and there were already sirens. Security was never far away.
“Your plans are ruined,” said his Silent Voice. “You will never see your wife.”
He told the Voice to be quiet. He didn’t need to hear this. If not for Madeinusa, he would have been back in the Burn Zone by now. He would be in his house where he would have found the key and opened the door to the basement.
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