Asimov's Science Fiction: July 2013 by Penny Publications Read Free Book Online

to get out?"
    The penny dropped. Dizzy from the idea, Bengt collapsed into one of Olala's ragged armchairs. "The Lifter people—you're saying they're like
lobstermen?
They want to
catch
Cammy and me?" "What it is," said Olala. "They took my brah Majek Wobble day before yesterday." "God—I think I heard this guy Churchill saying that name last night. I'm so dizzy from that dessert they gave me. Majek is, uh—"
    "Reggae musician, mon. When I went to Lifter two days ago, I took Majek with me. I met him after one of his shows at a club this weekend. Smoking spliffs, talking Jah. I took him to Lifter. And he didn't get out." "What are you saying? They kidnapped him?" "When you saw
Churchill
at Lifter last night," said Olala, narrowing his eyes. "Was he putting on some type of performance?"
    "He was singing," said Bengt. "He has this amazing reggae voice. Even though he's totally whitebread. But he, uh, yeah, he did say he learned from Majek Wobble."
    "Here's how it went. I go to Lifter two days ago to show Majek a big time. We lie around in there all day eating and smoking ganja, they don't care. We have a triple helping of the radiant pudding, and then another and then another. Everyone pigging out and feeling wavy. And then the vibe gets very tight. The truck engine starts,
varoom.
People running for the exit door. They can't get out, hardly none of them. Majek Wobble was skinny, but now he's too fat. I'm fat too, but I—well, I know how to shed."
    "You sloughed off an outer layer like a shedder lobster," said Bengt, not taking this very seriously.
    "Don't smile, ligand. I want you uptight. Otherwise this show's no fun. Earlier this week Churchill was singing Vegas crooner, you know. Total shit. But now he swallowed up Majek Wobble and he can sing and talk Jamaican. Proof positive. Aha!"
    Bengt was weary of this mind-game. He looked around Olala's cave and shook his head. "Cammy and I had a really fun time last night. It's been awhile since things went that well. And I was glad you'd sent me there. I felt like I had a friend. And now you have to start on this weird trip about Lifter being a trap. You're bumming me out."
    "It's good if you're bummed. More interesting. But I've warned you, and you'll still have a chance when you go back." "What do you know about this tag in my ear, asshole?" Olala gave Bengt another of his signif icant smiles. "I assume you, ah, didn't pick out the gewgaw yourself? No? Well—maybe it's like when the lobstermen tag an especially juicy specimen. So they can spot him when he returns."
    "I want it off!" said Bengt, yanking impatiently at the chartreuse disk. He saw spots and the pain made the room go dark. But he didn't let up. "Get some pliers and crush it, Olala!"
    "Calmo,"
said Olala. "You want to be keeping that tag." He rooted through the rubbish at the edges of the room and returned with a craft-saw mounted onto the body of an electric drill. "I'll cut the earring-post for you."
    A few minutes later, the garish tag lay on Olala's desk. Olala patched the reallyquite tiny puncture in Bengt's ear with a scrap of tape. Relieved to be free, Bengt used his smart phone to photograph the earring from several angles. He fed the images into his web search tool. No matches.
    "Shouldn't expect any," said Olala, shaking his head. "Not on the straight web. I happen to know there's a network-level filter routine to block out anything having to do with Lifter. A filter that's omnipresent malware in the Man's servers. But there
is
stuff about Lifter on the
Wiggleweb.
That's a jah-code encrypted Internet relay chat thing that me and my posse use. We're making, like, a documentary." "Nobody tells me anything." "You're a semiotics major, man. You're lower than chix. But you'll get your chance." "I need to go back to Lifter," said Bengt, brushing the teasing aside. He'd been suddenly sandbagged by a memory of the savory food. "Right now. For lunch. If I can find the place."
    Olala gave him yet another odd, sly