Ambient 06 - Going, Going, Gone by Jack Womack Read Free Book Online

and I listened to the sweet music of popping seed. »Pause that refreshes,« I mumbled, drawing south until the fume soaked the alveoli; then I let the north wind howl.
    Chlojo gave me a loan shark’s grin. Sticking her fist into her bodice she tugged out a change purse. Squeezed it open, and she extracted a bud the size of a bing cherry. She held up her treat as if expecting me to beg.
    »Lovely one, I’m used to Manhattan grade,« I said, stepping over to be polite. »No need to cop my muggles off eighth-grade hoods at the Nutley Dairy Queen –«
    Live and learn. When I took a whiff of that bud of hers I blasted off through mere proximity. Before I knew what hit me I was one with the floor, overcome by g-force. My head felt like the Babe had knocked it into the upper deck, and even though my blinds were drawn I saw the saucers swooping down to get me. » Valentine,« I heard somebody say before realizing it was me. When I finally returned to the solid world, a minute or so later, I saw Chlojo flashing a truly sinister rictus. Eulie was holding my shoulders, and demonstrating far more concern than her duplicitious sidekick.
    »What is that shit?« I asked, feigning a semblance of coherency. Clearly no playground was involved here. Only explanation I could figure was that these gals had big brothers in green overseas, and they loved their siblings dearly. »Vietnamese?«
    Chlojo sized me up as if deciding where to kick me next. »Secaucus.«
    The yen was on me; I somehow had to reserve acreage on this produce. »Not bad,« I said, lifting my hand and seeing fourteen. »Would you ladies care to share and share alike –?«
    »Chlo,« Eulie shouted, passing her big buddy the rod, distracting us for the moment from considering profitable co-op schemes. »Positioning. Formation ninety percent sure. Ready yourself.«
    »AO,« Chlojo said, pointing the rod directly at the small boxes. The rod’s tip began shining fire-engine red.
    »What? What is it?« I asked.
    »They’re seeable, Walter?«
    I shook my head, and realized I shouldn’t have. It still didn’t really feel attached to my neck. »Nope.«
    »Walter, how many hours since initial contact?«
    »Uh, twenty hours?« As I drifted back and forth over the enhanced plane it struck me that I should be more candid about my state, the night before. »First time I saw them I’d just dropped something vaguely psychoactive. Would that –?«
    »You’ve known similar alteration during successive showings?« Eulie asked, extracting what I thought was a white business card out of a pocket I hadn’t seen. When she held it in front of the boxes the card got bright pink spots all over as if it had chickenpox.
    »No more than usual.«
    »Conceivably facilitated,« she said. »Wouldn’t generate.«
    »Eulie,« said Chlojo. »There.«
    Each little box started putting out a deep blue shine, looking like they were heating up, though since I wasn’t dripping I could tell they weren’t. After ten seconds or so the shine intensified and something like St. Elmo’s fire outlined the fireplace mantle. There were two lamps on in the room and one in the record chamber and all of them suddenly started putting out black light. Our skin turned deep purple and the gals’ teeth went all snowy. Place looked like some California head shop. When I touched the walls I felt static electricity giving me that doorknob in winter feel; an ozony perfume filled the air, the kind that comes up when a rainstorm suddenly ups the ante, and bolts start belting down from the lords above.
    »This going to hurt the records –?«
    »Are you sighting, Walter?« Eulie asked. I watched my ectoplasmic pals begin to gel in the far corner of the living room. »Walter?«
    »There she blows,« I said, pointing.
    »Shield, Chlo.«
    They both reached up into their dos as if primping for company. Eulie pulled out a small round box and popped it open. This evidently was just the moment for them to put in contact lenses. Now