Songs From Spider Street (13 page)

His sweat trickled into his mouth. The half-burnt flavour of it woke him
quickly. He grimaced at the unpleasant tang and wondered if Musel did that to
you; made your sweat taste like someone had overcooked it.

Tomos rolled
out of bed and knelt on the floor, appraising the situation. He felt like it
would be OK if he stood up but he wasn’t going to be caught out again. He
reached out and gripped a piece of furniture to steady himself as he rose. He
stretched his arms. They seemed fine.

As he stood
in the bathroom, emptying the night’s accumulated fluid into the toilet, he
noticed that his urine had the same stink as his sweat. Strange, he thought. He
made a mental note to ask Lise when he saw her later. She was the expert. In
fact, he’d only been using Musel since he’d known her. Two weeks now.

Lise. Now
there she was – his token blonde. He’d mentioned … well, OK, boasted about …
her to Randall, who always said you had to have a token blonde in your fuck
structure. But then Randall’s fuck structure seemed to change on a daily basis
while his own changed at a more sedate pace.

Lise was
currently at the top of Tomos’ fuck structure. He saw it as a pyramid. At the
bottom were two redheads that he’d known for some time – one petite, the other
more hefty for variety. Then on the next level up was the brunette who worked
for a large banking corporation and who thought he was in something similar.
Right. She was always slightly sweaty, it seemed. Tomos liked that; he imagined
it was because she was always aroused around him. It was true she always seemed
wet and ready for sex but maybe it was just her metabolism.

But at the
top was Lise. No doubt about it. She was smart, sleek and clever, but in an
unobtrusive way. She had a great way with clothes and always seemed to know
which skin skirt to wear to get him hard without even trying. And blonde.
Almost supernaturally blonde. She had her own money and plenty of it. She was a
buyer for a fashion channel in the next city but one, so he mostly saw her at
weekends. And tonight was Friday night.

The women
probably all had fuck structures of their own but Tomos didn’t want to know. He
didn’t ask; they didn’t ask. It worked.

He flipped
open his screen to see how his funds were mounting up. He smiled as the numbers
in the credit column steadily clicked up. His illegal sex tab business was
lucrative and easy. And what business was it of the authorities if people
wanted to sell their sexual personas on the open market? Sheer hypocrisy –
after all, they didn’t bother too much about organ sales or brain re-tracking …
and they were much more dangerous, in the long run. He was just a small
businessman supplying a growing market. Small, but getting bigger every day.
And with Lise’s help …

The Musel
added a hell of an edge to everything. Once he started to feed it to his
regular customers their sex tab transference experiences would go into orbit.
They’d be hooked on it. And they could only get it from him. Sex and drugs, the
perfect mix, the perfect business, he thought.

Yeah, even
Randall must be eating his heart out. He’d love to take a crack at Lise. He’d
love to have the corner on a new product that was obviously going to be huge.
Poor small-time Randall.

He’d met
Randall in the street. Three years ago. Tomos had stopped to compliment him on
his haircut, though he actually thought it made him look like a fool and he
wanted to see if he could rile the man by feigning admiration. At first he wasn’t
sure if Randall was too stupid to know he was being humiliated or just too
unconcerned to let it show. Tomos had been impressed by Randall’s grace under
such withering fire and they’d spent the rest of the afternoon in a nearby bar.
When they emerged that night, they’d been firm friends.

Randall still
had the same stupid haircut but now it didn’t matter.

Tomos’s
Randall reverie was broken by the sound of his doorbell. That should be Lise
but he checked his pistol was nuzzled against his hip, where it should be.
Better to be sure than not, he thought. He headed across his excessively
expensive carpet towards the door. His apartment was small but extortionately
priced and he’d ploughed a lot of his profits into the place. He could tell
Lise was impressed the first time she saw it.

He swung open
the heavy door and feasted his eyes on the exquisite blonde standing there. “Hello.
I ache all over,” she breathed.

Taking her
bags from her, Tomos ushered her to the sofa before pouring her a glass of
chilled wine. He drank her in while she downed her first glass. “Mmmm. That
feels a lot better,” she said.

“It’s good to
see you, babe.”

She smiled at
him, raising her glass. “Likewise, mister.”

“Bad journey?”

“Fucking
appalling!” Then, noticing he wasn’t holding a glass: “Aren’t you joining me?”

Tomos shook
his head. “Nah. I prefer this.” He slid an open packet of Musel out of his top
pocket.

She put down
her glass, stood and walked across to him. She tried to take the packet from
him but he stood to meet her, dropping the packet onto a side table.

“Where do you
get this stuff? It’s not just illegal … it’s invisible! No fucker I know even
knows what it is! Who’s your connection, for Christ’s sake?”

She lowered
her eyes. “Just be content that I
have
a connection, OK? Let’s leave it
at that.”

He considered
for a moment before answering. “But I don’t want to leave it at that.”

She faced him
squarely. Her blue eyes held him fast. “Look, Tomos, I
can’t
tell you.
It’s as simple as that. If I did tell you … tell anyone … then my source would
be finished. This is more dangerous than you can imagine.”

He felt a
chill run through him. “But you’re not in any danger, are you? Tell me you’re
OK.”

“I’ll be fine
– just so long as I keep things to myself.” She reached out and put her hand on
the side of his face, gently. “OK?’

He nodded. He
felt like a small boy who had been reprimanded but he didn’t care. As long as
she was going to be OK. He didn’t want to lose her.

“So let’s see
it.”

She lifted
the case onto the table and clicked it open. Several neat rows of small blue
packets lay against the expensive leather. He knew that inside each one would
be a dozen small, crystalline flakes of Musel. Paradise that you simply let
melt under your tongue. Heightened perceptions, lowered anxieties, enhanced
physical co-ordination and, as far as he could tell, no down side. Perfection.

Tomos reached
out and picked up a packet from the first row. It felt so light that it could
have been empty. He knew how full it was and tore it open. “Hey!” protested
Lise.

“What?”

“That’s for
our customers. Don’t you have any of your own left? How much of that stuff are
you using?”

Tomos grinned
at her. “Just want to test the quality is all.”

She scowled
at him. “You’ve used up what I’ve given you already, haven’t you?”

He shrugged,
offering her the open packet as an apology and an invitation.

She shook her
head vigorously.

“Why not?” he
asked.

“I don’t use
it – it’s for sale, remember?!”

“Just a
little, to test the quality.” He raised the packet towards her.

“No.”

“But why don’t
you use it? It’s fucking amazing.”

“As Marcus
Aurelius said: ‘The human soul degrades itself when it is overpowered by
pleasure or pain’.”

Tomos looked
puzzled. “Marcus who?”

“Aurelius.”

“Who the hell
is he?”

“He
was
a Roman emperor and philosopher.”

“Well, what
the fuck’s he got to do with anything?”

“He hasn’t
got anything to do with it, but his philosophy has.” She arched an eyebrow at
him: “Think about it.”

Tomos hated
her with his eyes. He wasn’t keen on being humiliated by her, especially when
she tried to show off her superior education. As Lise trotted over to the bed,
Tomos laid plans for an enjoyable revenge later in the evening.

Tomos let his
eyes roam down her back to the smooth curves of her rear as she sat on the end
of the bed flicking from channel to channel on the big screen. She was obviously
hoping to fall into one of the endless re-runs of
Transsexual Hospital
or
Neighborhood Slaughter
.

He let his
hand trace the smooth line, making her arch away from him slightly. “Hey, we’ve
got work to do, remember?”

He sighed,
feigning impatience. “Then why are you watching TV?”

“It’ll make
good background noise. Cover our conversation if anyone
happens
to be
listening.” She let the screen stop on the latest edition of
Bodypart Buyout
and turned to him. “You ought to take a more professional approach.”

His only
reply was to reach out and touch her thigh beneath her skirt. She moved it
slightly away. He took this as a challenge and pulled her towards him suddenly,
kissing her long and hard. She didn’t resist.

“Well … is
that a gun in your pocket or are you just feigning interest?” she laughed, when
they had finally disengaged.

He hated
that. Her laughing. Sex wasn’t something to joke about. For Tomos it was a very
serious business. He had thought on a previous occasion that she only did it to
make him angry – maybe it made him a better lover for her. He didn’t really
care about that, he just hated it.

“Shut up.” He
kissed her, again. This time he made sure she had no doubt of his intentions,
pushing aside any possibility of smart-ass remarks.

Deftly, he
slid her out of her clothes as she gave little moans of assent, watching him
all the while.

Once she was
naked, he quickly slipped off his own clothes and joined her on the bed.

He slid his
lips across her skin, stopping at her right nipple to flick his tongue around
its edge. He concentrated on the area where her skin tone changed before
sucking the bud itself into his mouth. He held it with his lips and insistently
pressed the nub against his teeth with his tongue, rolling it back and forth.
Lise bucked slightly. She sighed heavily and pressed herself against him,
wanting more.

She pulled at
him, rolling him to one side and onto his back so she could mount him.

She slid
around his girth until they were locked together. Her half sigh, half grunt
signalled that she’d taken the first step on her road to pleasure. As he
grabbed two handfuls of blonde hair and pulled her down on top of him, Tomos
knew things were going his way.

He rolled on
top of her and relished her throaty gasps as he pushed himself into her, making
sure his whole length was as deep in her as he could go. She slithered around
under him, using his hardness. Unwilling to sacrifice his own pleasure, Tomos
began to withdraw. Sensing what was coming next, Lise dug her nails deep into
the tops of his thighs. “No, … no … no,” she whispered, half pleading and half
threatening, moving her embedded nails in his flesh to underline her need.

With one
swift, selfish movement he was free. The only price was a stinging pain in both
his thighs where her nails had dug in, drawing blood. She glared at him,
knowing what was coming next.

Tomos knew
she hated it but it really was the most important thing to him. He offered to
go down on her in return. Hell, he was only too happy to eat her out but she
refused. In fact, she didn’t seem to like the idea at all. This puzzled him
because most women he’d known had loved it, couldn’t get enough of it.

She looked
apprehensive as he moved into position, resting the tip of his penis against
her lips. For a few seconds she hesitated. Then, as if resigned to playing a
part, she opened her mouth and nuzzled her lips against him, her tongue softly
beginning to move over him. He gasped sharply as the exquisite sensation cut
through to the core of his senses, washing him away on a tide of pleasure.

He could hear the sound of her coughing and gagging from behind the
bathroom door.

“Anyone would
think it was poison,” he yelled to her. “It’s a real insult, you know?”

She
eventually emerged, mopping her face with a towel. “It sticks in my throat,”
she said quietly.

 He smirked
at her. “Try spitting it out next time.”

“Wouldn’t
that be just as much of an insult?” She sat down on the bed next to him.

“Sure. But
not as bad as you dying from jizz poisoning.”

She leant
back, brushing against him. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He slid his
arm across her shoulder, squeezing her to him. “Hey, c’mon. Tell me where the
Musel comes from. Who makes that shit?”

“It’s obvious
you’re not going to leave me in peace until I tell you something,” groaned
Lise, wriggling free. “OK, listen – it’s alien. That’s why you’ve never seen it
before and that’s why nobody knows what it is. Its owners won’t miss that lot
until the week after next, so we need to have shifted it by then. And there’s
no way it’s ever going to be traced to us. But keep your mouth SHUT about it.”

“Alien?
Christ! Where the hell did it come from?”

“It’s
manufactured by the Tepnesevil.”

“Those geeks!”

“They’re not
geeks, Tom. They’re very interesting. Serene but unbelievably violent at the
same time. The drug’s part of their religion. It’s a bit like old-style
Buddhism, I suppose, in the way …”

Tomos shook
his head in boredom. He hated her when she was in full ‘schoolmistress’ mode.
Why couldn’t she just talk about her investments or her retirement plans like
everybody else?

He had to
interrupt her before she bored him to death. “Haven’t they got a colony on the
moon … I mean, our moon?”