Read Online Atom by Steve Aylett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Steve Aylett
Tags: Fiction & Literature
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fishermen throw back for fear of bad luck, the descendants of this one, scrawled with the truth, inherited the shell-pattern through natural selection and bear it to this day.’
There was a static-filled silence. ‘I beg your pardon?’ Turow said at last, the Egyptian cigarette dangling dead fom the dry lower lip of his gob. ‘Have you perhaps misplaced your reason? “Inherited the shell-pattern”?’
‘Reality evades the eye,’ said the barman, holding a clean glass to the light, ‘dodging the rods and cones like a swerve driver.’
‘Keeps to the eye corners,’ muttered someone way back in the bar’s gloom, ‘where there’s no colour perception.’
‘Truth ain’t black and white either, Hammy.’
‘So what is it, in your opinion,’ asked Turow.
‘The colour of a diamond.’
‘Well it has certainly been a pleasure,’ said Turow, standing down from his stool. ‘Thankyou for your attempts to cheer me in my dark hour. But I must say I wish you would have invented a more reasonable story. Good day to you.’
‘Light?’ said the barman mildly, producing a zippo.
Turow took the cigarette from his mouth as though surprised to find it there, then replaced it and leaned over - the barman sparked the flint and the crustacean reared up from the platter of veggies nearby, clacking its claws. Reflected in every glass in the bar, the slogan THE COOK KILLED ME was etched in its shell. Screaming like the damned, Turow whacked the barman’s arm aside and the crab burst into flames, launching itself from the bartop and emitting a semisonic scream as it skittered flaring across the floor to collide with a gun-stand. The stand ignited and the bar erupted into panic as a dozen guzzlers paid off at once. Turow was out the door like a rabbit out of a trap.
‘Spray your vehicle,’ the barman muttered, ‘it’s still the old colour underneath.’
10 MUTANT JAZZ
Madison’s windshield TV superimposed the spectacle over the traffic. ‘News on the hour. The President, whose assassination is said to be at a delicate stage, has described his hourly, bare-knuckle efforts to “stay clean” after being discovered in flagrante with a four foot squid. The squid is a carnivorous marine mollusc with a streamlined body and shell reduced to an internal cartilaginous rod. “My enemies would love to use this regrettable impulse against me. I believe this says more about their sickness than mine.” Tomorrow’s Presidential visit to Beerlight City amid the continuing breakup of states is widely viewed as a carnage opportunity.
‘Mobster Harry Fiasco has been convicted of psychological damage and condemned to the chair on the three strikes longcon after destroying the City Brain Facility. “I’d like to thank my mom, my dad, my girlfriend Kitty, my parole officer and all the victims who made this possible. This execution’s for you.” But the execution has been postponed for the purpose of publicity. On the steps of the court Attorney Harpoon Specter commented “You’ll notice I’m grimacing. All the muscles in my face have contracted due to the terrific velocity of these proceedings. Indeed the trial was so swift I had very little airtime. I aim to stay this execution for at least sixteen hours. Beauty surrounds me. Outta my way.” When asked why he turned Fiasco in, mob boss Eddie Thermidor was evasive. “Didn’t seem significant at the time.”
‘And in response to the production of Dead Barbie, a grey doll with no eyes, parents have complained that the product is otherwise indistinguishable from other Barbies. Manufacturers were adamant. “The notion that we’re simply saving paint is nonsense. We want to instruct kids about mortality. The new Barbie has a casket, cadaver make-up, bugs. Alive she is not.” That was the news and bother - this is the number one video - “What’s With the Knife” by Septal Erosion.’
Madison drew up at the state pen. Fiasco had been sentenced in a court
There was a static-filled silence. ‘I beg your pardon?’ Turow said at last, the Egyptian cigarette dangling dead fom the dry lower lip of his gob. ‘Have you perhaps misplaced your reason? “Inherited the shell-pattern”?’
‘Reality evades the eye,’ said the barman, holding a clean glass to the light, ‘dodging the rods and cones like a swerve driver.’
‘Keeps to the eye corners,’ muttered someone way back in the bar’s gloom, ‘where there’s no colour perception.’
‘Truth ain’t black and white either, Hammy.’
‘So what is it, in your opinion,’ asked Turow.
‘The colour of a diamond.’
‘Well it has certainly been a pleasure,’ said Turow, standing down from his stool. ‘Thankyou for your attempts to cheer me in my dark hour. But I must say I wish you would have invented a more reasonable story. Good day to you.’
‘Light?’ said the barman mildly, producing a zippo.
Turow took the cigarette from his mouth as though surprised to find it there, then replaced it and leaned over - the barman sparked the flint and the crustacean reared up from the platter of veggies nearby, clacking its claws. Reflected in every glass in the bar, the slogan THE COOK KILLED ME was etched in its shell. Screaming like the damned, Turow whacked the barman’s arm aside and the crab burst into flames, launching itself from the bartop and emitting a semisonic scream as it skittered flaring across the floor to collide with a gun-stand. The stand ignited and the bar erupted into panic as a dozen guzzlers paid off at once. Turow was out the door like a rabbit out of a trap.
‘Spray your vehicle,’ the barman muttered, ‘it’s still the old colour underneath.’
10 MUTANT JAZZ
Madison’s windshield TV superimposed the spectacle over the traffic. ‘News on the hour. The President, whose assassination is said to be at a delicate stage, has described his hourly, bare-knuckle efforts to “stay clean” after being discovered in flagrante with a four foot squid. The squid is a carnivorous marine mollusc with a streamlined body and shell reduced to an internal cartilaginous rod. “My enemies would love to use this regrettable impulse against me. I believe this says more about their sickness than mine.” Tomorrow’s Presidential visit to Beerlight City amid the continuing breakup of states is widely viewed as a carnage opportunity.
‘Mobster Harry Fiasco has been convicted of psychological damage and condemned to the chair on the three strikes longcon after destroying the City Brain Facility. “I’d like to thank my mom, my dad, my girlfriend Kitty, my parole officer and all the victims who made this possible. This execution’s for you.” But the execution has been postponed for the purpose of publicity. On the steps of the court Attorney Harpoon Specter commented “You’ll notice I’m grimacing. All the muscles in my face have contracted due to the terrific velocity of these proceedings. Indeed the trial was so swift I had very little airtime. I aim to stay this execution for at least sixteen hours. Beauty surrounds me. Outta my way.” When asked why he turned Fiasco in, mob boss Eddie Thermidor was evasive. “Didn’t seem significant at the time.”
‘And in response to the production of Dead Barbie, a grey doll with no eyes, parents have complained that the product is otherwise indistinguishable from other Barbies. Manufacturers were adamant. “The notion that we’re simply saving paint is nonsense. We want to instruct kids about mortality. The new Barbie has a casket, cadaver make-up, bugs. Alive she is not.” That was the news and bother - this is the number one video - “What’s With the Knife” by Septal Erosion.’
Madison drew up at the state pen. Fiasco had been sentenced in a court
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