Sequela (33 page)

'Wait,' Kester said. 'Look – Hera.'  

'What?'

'There – she's up on the barrier.' The camera had zoomed in on her, standing like a glowing goddess on the security barrier at the front of the pit. 'Is this part of it?'

Kester grabbed Alexis' wrist as Hera plunged forward in a crowd-dive, sailed across the dark sea of hands for about ten metres and then was engulfed. There was a dip in the darkness of the crowd, a vortex, as the crowd tried to get at her.

'What the fuck?' Kester said, then looked around, as if to get help.

'Wait,' Alexis said.

The frenzy lasted a few minutes, then there was a crack and a bright, pale flare fizzed into life in the centre of the struggle. The circle of people pulled back like water from an oil droplet, save for two frozen in the act. The two audience members crowded Hera's legs and hips like beggars, filthy with clothes, faces turned up to the light, mouths slack as gaping pockets. From their grubbing pile thrust Hera's torso, naked flesh marble white in the harsh light, blonde hair wild as a maenad's, her whole form focused upwards to where she held the flare above her head.

'Yes!' Alexis said. 'Go on, Hera! You didn't think I'd send her in there without some kind of protection did you?'

'You sent her…'

'Now watch this.' Alexis pointed at the top of the monitor.

From up above, one of the line police lowered down and picked Hera up from the ground, lifting her onto his lap where she pretended to hump him as they ascended to the safety wire.

'OK,' said Alexis, 'that wasn't part of the plan but she does like to improvise.'

The light went off on the two of them but it was clear some kind of wrestling was going on. Then Hera's form began to move in a familiar rhythm. The crowd were pointing and yelling.

'That's my girl.' Alexis punched the palm of her hand.

'She's crazy.'

'Complete looney tunes. It was her idea.'

The carnage below continued until all of the remaining models had disappeared into the booths. The Itch were once more in the spotlight.

In minutes, the song was over and Alexis was back at the side of the stage, announcing the finale: Touché. The models were congregating backstage. When Kester saw them, an involuntary laugh escaped his chest. They were all done up in labcoats. They had their hair scraped back in pony tails, or slicked back if it was short, and they wore safety goggles over their made-up eyes.

The labcoats drew a laugh from the audience too and either the models were too professional to react, or they really didn't see the funny side of it, which made it even funnier. Again, the music started with the first foot down. The models took up position evenly down the stage, facing alternate directions. On cue, they began a slow strip-tease, aimed partly at the VIPs, and partly at the rest of the crowd via to-camera winks and pouts. Considering they didn't have very much to strip out of, they did an amazing job, ending up in the modest white knickers they wore in the lab. By the time Alexis joined Kester again, he was in kinks. He hadn't known about the labcoats.

'Thought you might appreciate this,' she said into his ear, laying an arm across his shoulders and kissing him firmly on the cheek. 'You have no idea how much training it took to get catwalk models to act like that.'

When they had stripped down to their knickers, they still looked completely clean. Kester had been doubtful about the timings, but Alexis had been adamant it would work. They had done three trial runs and they seemed stable.

There it was: slowly but surely the Touché patterns were appearing on the models, drawing staggered bouts of cheering and whistling from the crowd as they realised what was happening.

'You've calmed down,' Kester hollered over the noise.

'We're almost there. But you're up next, baby.'

Kester had almost forgotten that he was a part of it. Alexis dragged him to his feet and took him over to wardrobe check, where a team of stylists ruffled his hair carefully and adjusted his clothes to make sure they were hanging right. He was wearing broken-down jeans, a yellow t-shirt with a faded logo for some B-movie that no-one had ever heard of – 'Pandemic!' Alexis handed him his labcoat to finish the outfit.

'They're really sending me out there in my labcoat?' he asked as he put it on.

'Kester, you look hot,' she replied with her spitting K and walked off towards the stage, hips swinging.

Kester walked to the wings where he could see her geeing up the crowd one last time. As she exited, she put her lips to his ear.

'You're theirs for tonight,' she said, then pushed him forward to stand at the catwalk entrance, ready for his cue.

When the lights came up, Kester couldn't see. They had warned him against the urge to lift his arm to shield his eyes, but he forgot all his coaching and did it anyway. He walked out in exactly the way the show director had told him not to, as if he was walking out of a spaceship that had landed on another planet.

The crowd went wild. He
was
from another planet – why shouldn't he act this way? As he worked his way down the catwalk, he began to enjoy himself and ceased fighting the adrenaline. He gave a few small bows and waves, then he laughed, buoyed up by the crowd's energy. He looked at the faces. He was on stage at a rock concert. Thousands of pairs of eyes were on him, wishing him well. Voices were calling out his name,
clamouring
into one big swell of excited shouts. Arms reached up amongst the smiles; hands flexed, desperate to get inches closer to him. The smiles filled him with a frantic energy – he grabbed the edges of his labcoat, held it out like a cape and did a lap of honour up and down the catwalk to a cacophony of screams. At the end he jumped right to the edge of the fountain platform, whisked off his labcoat and whirled it off out across the VIPs and into the crowd. He laughed, waving and bowing again, as it was ripped to pieces.

After a few moments lapping it all up, Kester lost his momentum and paced back and forth a couple of times above the booths. This was when he was supposed to go down into the VIP pit. His nerves rushed back in.

'Fuck it, Alexis, where are you when I need you.'

He turned on his heel and ran up the catwalk. She was already coming out to push him back in the other direction when he reached the top.

'What the fuck are you doing?'

Kester saw the words form on her lips. She had already taken off her makeup in preparation for the after-party. He grabbed her hand and pulled her at a half-run down the catwalk. Once she stopped resisting, he lifted her arm and presented her to the crowd. As they reached the circular platform he let her go. Then he grabbed her collar and, to rapturous cheers, ripped off the chiffon panel to reveal his handiwork all over the front of her body.

Alexis turned, laughing now. She shimmied her shoulders to draw attention to her golden-haired spine, then put her head down and pinched out her brown contact lenses to reveal her golden eyes. Kester took her hand again and turned her in a circle, then pulled her in and kissed her on the lips. He looked at her, amazed: she was a beautiful alien, he was Captain Kirk. Their chests were heaving. He had felt this before. The Stark Wellbury wall glowed opposite, a hallucinated memory. He squeezed her hand and glanced down at the pit.

'Go – go!' Alexis said, pulling her hand away.

She pushed him towards the steps to the left-hand VIP strip. Kester watched as she walked to the top of the stairs opposite, her grin still hanging in front of his eyes like the ghost of a bright light. At the top of the stairs she turned and mouthed something. Kester gave a small jump of triumph and dashed to the stairs.

Kester stared at Farrell across the board room table. Farrell stared at the table, refusing to meet his eyes. She had been avoiding him since the after-party. Something had happened at the show. He had done something.

'Let me start by saying that the show was an unprecedented success,' said Chen.

She looked around at all involved and nodded, as if she had done her duty in praising them. This was as much as they could expect from her.

'So what now?' she asked.

'It was wonderful, wasn't it?' Gaunt said, with a dreamy, leery look in his eye, avoiding the question. 'Did you see that young model – what's her name again, Kester?'

'Hera?'

'Yes, Hera.' Gaunt smiled as if he had a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. 'What a wonderful performer. In every sense.' He jabbed Alexis in the ribs. 'Oh Lord, woman, close your eyes before you hurt someone else – you've cut me quite open.'

Alexis ignored him.

Chen gave him his space as usual, and then repeated her question. 'What now?'

'With all due respect,' Roger Yule said, 'we've put a strategy in place, so we know what's next: following up the show with the campaign and getting these viruses into all the branches of the Pigs.'

'Yes.' Chen nodded. 'That was the plan, but we have to be flexible, Roger. You know better than anyone that a strategy is a living thing which needs to respond to the circumstances. And the majority of the Pig chains and large independents have already signed up.'

'Yes.' Roger squeezed his hands together, then placed them on the table either side of his Book. 'You're right. You're quite right. Head's still a bit fuzzy from the event.'

'Dear boy,' Gaunt said, 'after three days? You need some of my special medicine.'

'You want to talk through your addictions?' Ingrid Jones said. 'I have a number for that. Now are we not here on business?'

Roger leaned over to Kester and whispered in his ear, 'She's never had a night's fun in her life. She wouldn't know what the aftermath –'

'Roger.' Ingrid smiled. 'Even if I couldn't hear everything you're saying your body language would incriminate you.'

Chen, who had been scrolling through something on her Book, turned her attention back to the room.

'What did we learn from Saturday, Roger?' Chen asked.

'Firstly, that we've created pretty substantial demand for another show. Since the event I've had agents calling on behalf of various celebrities trying to secure VIP seats for the next event.'

'As many as we expected?' Chen asked.

'More,' Alexis said.

Kester looked over at her. There was something about her eyes, something different. He couldn't figure it out. They hadn't seen each other since the show. By the time Kester's VIP had been done with him he was ready to drop. Even so, the dose that Gaunt's man had given him didn't wear off fully until lunchtime the next day. He had left a message in the morning suggesting she come round and take advantage of the situation – even though he didn't feel like it, he had wanted to see her – but she hadn't replied. She had been busy, he imagined, but now it looked like he had offended her. Was that what that look was? It wasn't a good look, whatever it meant.

'Yes, more than we expected,' Yule said, 'so a second event is a must.'

'And this time we should get the plebs involved,' Gaunt said. 'That should give the hype a helping hand and give the high street end of things a boost.'

'Involved how?' Alexis asked.

'You know how they love to be a part of things. We allow them to become a part of it. Literally. Run a contest to find the new models for the show.'

'A competition for people who want to prostitute themselves?' Kester asked.

'Come off it, Kester,' Gaunt said, pulling one of his best charming smiles, 'you're the biggest whore here. They'll love it. The chance to fuck all those celebrities they've only dreamed of getting close to. Most of the public may not wear day to day, or climb the shag-ladder like we do in the City but believe me, they'll spread their legs quicker than 25-year-old virgins for a film star, a Premiership footballer, any of our clients. The red-top sites prove that.'

'I like it,' Yule said. 'I think it could really work. We're looking for women and men beautiful enough to do justice to the next release of Kester Lowes.'

'Inside and outside,' Gaunt said.

'I'm sorry?' Yule looked confused, along with the rest of the room. Kester, too, assumed he had missed some innuendo.

'The City,' Gaunt said. 'We run the competition inside and outside the City, outside London even, internationally. More entries.'

'But winners from outside wouldn't be allowed in here,' Jones said.

'Come, come. Surely that's a little thing to overcome for the possibility of millions more entries – we'd make money for every submission. Besides, Alexis,' Gaunt turned to Alexis and winked at her, 'you have friends in high places at the City Population Monitor, no? We've already made an exception for one model.'

'Yes,' Alexis said.

'That's settled then. Get on to it, the three of you,' Chen said, making eye contact with Gaunt, Alexis and Yule. 'And the Vspa?'

'The Vspa, absolutely,' Yule said, running a finger around the collar of his shirt and casting a glance a Kester. 'Absolutely, yes. It's going to be a great success. We've secured the top level of the PlayPen and we've got our design and construction teams working on creating the facilities now.'

'Gaunt,' Chen said, 'do you want to lay out our plans for Doctor Lowe?'

'Well, Roger's the expert,' Gaunt said, waving a hand about his head, then rubbing his eye.

Chen stared at Gaunt, and then at Yule. There was a short silence. Kester had an odd feeling. It reminded him of the uncomfortable pause which preceded criticism. He shifted in his seat.

Looking around and observing the scene, Jones raised her eyebrows.

'Well,' she said, 'I will lay out the new strategy briefly for Doctor Lowe.'

Chen nodded at Jones and she continued.

'The Vspa will continue as planned. We will use the existing models who are working for us. We've also signed up some up-and-coming models who need a bit of publicity.'

'Up and coming,' Gaunt repeated and smirked, seemingly unaware that he had spoken.

'The Vspa will open one week before our second event, which will take place in just under six weeks' time. Kester, we will need two more viruses ready for the event. We can reuse the rest, but there needs to be something extra for the attendees. We need to look like we're growing our portfolio.'

'No problem,' said Kester, his mind starting to tick through where they were with the different viruses. 'Not a problem. We should have three to choose from, maybe four.'

'Roger, Felicity and I have a meeting booked to go over the pricing, but we think we've got a pretty good model. We've got our economists running it through the modelling systems trying to break it as we speak. The Vspa facilities are under construction here at V and we will transport everything in and set it up in four weeks' time.'

'Still tomorrow for our meeting?' Felicity asked.

Jones nodded.

'Get to the point!' Alexis said, clattering her coffee cup into its saucer.

'The next step,' Jones said, 'as we've got the facilities from two weeks prior to the second show, is to set up some appointments for pre-launch promotion. We'll spend the first week doing snagging and getting everything set up and the appointments will start one week before the show.' She turned her pale eyes on Kester.

'Sounds great,' Kester said. He felt he had to say something because she was looking at him.

'We'd like you to participate,' she said.

'You mean…' Kester stopped and thought about what he was about to say.

'She means they want to pimp you out, dear boy,' Gaunt said, winking at him. 'Alexis has come good. She said she'd fix you to the firmament and she has. You're the hottest new toy on the market – everybody wants to play with you.'

'I…' Kester laughed and then turned to Alexis. 'You said it was a one-off, just at the show – two shows at the most. Is that what you meant when you said I was "going to be busy"?'

'It was,' Alexis said, taking up his stare, sending a shudder through him. 'You didn't complain about putting out on our little World Tour. What's the problem now?'

'That was – what are you talking about?' Something was tightening in Kester's chest. 'That was for fun – that was sleeping with who I want to, something that normal people do, if any of you remember what it's like to be normal.'

'The first show was a one-off freebie,' Chen said. 'From now on, people will be paying handsomely for the pleasure.'

Kester opened his mouth to answer but found he could only shake his head. Paying for it. She thought that was a good thing? That was supposed to make it OK?

'That's why you're here today,' Chen said. 'We thought it would be only polite to let you hear the business plan, since you're such a large part of it.'

Kester was suddenly very aware of his penis, still tender from overuse at the show.

'So I'm supposed to sleep with anyone who's willing to pay for it?' he asked. His voice caught in his throat.

'Believe me, Kester,' Jones said, unblinking, 'if it made good business sense to keep you to ourselves, I'm sure we would.'

Jones held Kester's gaze. Alexis shifted in her chair.

'You're loving this aren't you?' Kester said.

'I'm Director of Strategy,' Jones said. 'Of course I love it. I wouldn't have gone for this job if I didn't. New opportunities like this don't just fall out of the sky.'

'So you're going to pimp me out?' Kester got up out of his chair and walked to the window.

'Byron's words,' Chen said. 'Not a good choice.'

'If they wanted to pimp
me
out, dear boy,' Gaunt said with a louche smile, 'I'd be more than happy to oblige, but for some reason the clients don't want my emanations the way they want yours. I have no idea why. Being paid to copulate is rather my dream career, though these days I might need strong pharmaceutical assistance in the matter.'

'You want to prostitute me to our clients.' Kester stared out of the window without blinking until the scoop of the city began to wobble before his eyes. It was sunny, but patches of cloud cast parts of the city into shadow, dark seams in a quarry of bright metal. He thought of his mother, proudly hanging signed "Kester Lowe" knickers in the absently clean window of her boutique.

'Don't think of it like that, Kester,' Yule said. 'We're just providing them with a service.'

'You employed me as a scientist, not a semen dispenser!' Kester couldn't look at him. 'You already had a building full of those.'

'That's right, Doctor Lowe,' Chen said. 'We did employ you. For a moment I suspected that you had forgotten. Give us the room please, everyone.'

Kester clenched his jaw repeatedly as the Board filed out, mumbling to one another. He listened for Alexis' voice but couldn't hear it.

'OK, Kester.' Chen joined him at the window. 'Let me make it easier for you. Alexis doesn't like the idea any more than you do, but she knows what her job's worth. You two teenagers need to snap out of it. I don't know what happened on that tour, but you need to remember how things work around here. I've told Alexis not to interfere, so if you don't want her to end up explaining herself to me, don't goad her. And don't goad me. Make no mistake about it, Doctor Lowe, I keep your reputation right next to the shredder and I can bring you down faster than she took you on. I can make sure you never work again, here or anywhere. I can destroy you – I can do worse than destroy you: I can make you disappear.'

Kester felt Chen's hand hovering behind his neck, only just touching the downy fluff at his hairline. Then she placed it firmly onto his skin, gripping his neck as if she might pick him up by the scruff like a kitten. She had always stopped short of touching him before.

'You can make us a fortune. You can make yourself a fortune. Alexis has made you into a star almost overnight and you have the top celebrities in the UK, in Europe, in the world lining up to take you to bed.' Chen's accent was getting more and more Glaswegian the more forcefully she talked. It clicked into place with the husk in her voice. 'Rock stars, sports stars, politicians, royalty – everybody you ever wanted. They aren't paying to use you; they are paying you to use them. They aren't paying for you the way they would pay for a prostitute; they're paying for your personal services the way they might pay for La Fey's personal services in fitting the dress he has made for them. In this world, everyone's serving someone. It's all a matter of what you get for it.'