Read Online The Condition of Muzak by Michael Moorcock - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Moorcock
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time.”
“I’ll be seeing you,” said Jerry.
Koutrouboussis chuckled to himself. “At this rate you’ll be raising me, too. Cheerio for now, Mr Cornelius.” As an afterthought he said from the passage: “And if you should discover the identity…”
“I’ll let you know.”
“I would be grateful.”
Jerry put his elbows on his desk and rubbed at his face. One thing was certain: he was under an obligation and it was making him uncomfortable. Then he consoled himself with the knowledge that Koutrouboussis was no idealist. His interest in the whole affair was connected with Catherine alone and justified by a profit motive. If Jerry was going to make his clinic in any way successful he would have to forget both his sister and her admirer for a while. He was sure he was on the right track this time around. He had found hope again. If these new machines couldn’t beat the human condition then nothing could.
A tasty young nun knocked and entered. “You’re looking tired, sir. You’ve so much on your shoulders.”
He straightened his back. Automatically he checked his lapels for nits. “Lice,” he murmured, to explain.
“The world is full of them, sir. But the truth shines through.”
He glanced at her faithful face. “The trouble is,” he said, “that we’re all at least a hundred and fifty years old. How many generations need to comply in a fallacy before it becomes accepted as truth?”
She was untroubled. “Can I bring you a nice cup of tea, doctor?”
“It would certainly help.”
“Your machines…”
“They’re not oracles, you know. They just get rid of the demand for oracles. Abolish the future and you lose the need for faith. Familiarity, by and large, banishes fear…” He clutched, again, at his head. “I wish I knew how the damned things worked.”
“I was going to say. They’re moaning again.”
“They haven’t got enough to do.”
“Soon,” she reassured him.
“The whole idea is that we should do away with ‘Tomorrow’…”
“I’ll make the tea immediately.” The door closed on her whispering gown.
He got up and drew the blind so that he could see into the quiet garden. “Heritage. Inheritance. The secret’s in the genes. Chromosomes. Chronos zones. It always comes down to those fucking flat worms.” He really needed a chemist at that moment, but he was buggered if he was going to bring his brother back. Frank would have a vested interest in the status quo; his whole identity depended on its preservation. The same could be said for Miss Brunner and the rest. He couldn’t blame them. They thought they were fighting for their lives.
The phone began to ring.
He uttered a disbelieving laugh.
9. THE STRIM ANTITANK ROCKET LAUNCHER IS LIGHT (4.5 KG), ACCURATE (VERY HIGH SINGLE SHOT HIT AND KILL PROBABILITY), EASY TO USE, LOW-COST INSTRUCTION–NO MAINTENANCE, NO OVERHAUL … COMPLEMENTARY ROCKETS, SMOKE/INCENDIARY, 1,000 METERS, ILLUMINATION, 100 TO 2,000 METERS, ANTIPERSONNEL, UP TO 2,000 METERS
With only a few reservations Jerry watched the new arrivals as they were herded from the big white bus through the narrow gates of the convent. There were only three men; all the others were women under thirty—or, at least, they resembled women. Some of the patients, he gathered, had already made a few faltering steps towards a crude form of self-inflicted transmogrification, some of it involving quite terrifying surgery.
He had decided not to present himself to his patients until the evening, during the Welcome Ceremony (which would be held in the ballroom, once the twin chapels) since, at this stage, he would be bound to make them feel self-conscious. Even as the white bus disappeared into the new underground garage a black Mercedes two-tonner took its place, unloading amplifiers and instruments, music for the ball. He stepped back from his window. As the population increased, so, in direct proportion, would his clients. He went over to his new console, turning
“I’ll be seeing you,” said Jerry.
Koutrouboussis chuckled to himself. “At this rate you’ll be raising me, too. Cheerio for now, Mr Cornelius.” As an afterthought he said from the passage: “And if you should discover the identity…”
“I’ll let you know.”
“I would be grateful.”
Jerry put his elbows on his desk and rubbed at his face. One thing was certain: he was under an obligation and it was making him uncomfortable. Then he consoled himself with the knowledge that Koutrouboussis was no idealist. His interest in the whole affair was connected with Catherine alone and justified by a profit motive. If Jerry was going to make his clinic in any way successful he would have to forget both his sister and her admirer for a while. He was sure he was on the right track this time around. He had found hope again. If these new machines couldn’t beat the human condition then nothing could.
A tasty young nun knocked and entered. “You’re looking tired, sir. You’ve so much on your shoulders.”
He straightened his back. Automatically he checked his lapels for nits. “Lice,” he murmured, to explain.
“The world is full of them, sir. But the truth shines through.”
He glanced at her faithful face. “The trouble is,” he said, “that we’re all at least a hundred and fifty years old. How many generations need to comply in a fallacy before it becomes accepted as truth?”
She was untroubled. “Can I bring you a nice cup of tea, doctor?”
“It would certainly help.”
“Your machines…”
“They’re not oracles, you know. They just get rid of the demand for oracles. Abolish the future and you lose the need for faith. Familiarity, by and large, banishes fear…” He clutched, again, at his head. “I wish I knew how the damned things worked.”
“I was going to say. They’re moaning again.”
“They haven’t got enough to do.”
“Soon,” she reassured him.
“The whole idea is that we should do away with ‘Tomorrow’…”
“I’ll make the tea immediately.” The door closed on her whispering gown.
He got up and drew the blind so that he could see into the quiet garden. “Heritage. Inheritance. The secret’s in the genes. Chromosomes. Chronos zones. It always comes down to those fucking flat worms.” He really needed a chemist at that moment, but he was buggered if he was going to bring his brother back. Frank would have a vested interest in the status quo; his whole identity depended on its preservation. The same could be said for Miss Brunner and the rest. He couldn’t blame them. They thought they were fighting for their lives.
The phone began to ring.
He uttered a disbelieving laugh.
9. THE STRIM ANTITANK ROCKET LAUNCHER IS LIGHT (4.5 KG), ACCURATE (VERY HIGH SINGLE SHOT HIT AND KILL PROBABILITY), EASY TO USE, LOW-COST INSTRUCTION–NO MAINTENANCE, NO OVERHAUL … COMPLEMENTARY ROCKETS, SMOKE/INCENDIARY, 1,000 METERS, ILLUMINATION, 100 TO 2,000 METERS, ANTIPERSONNEL, UP TO 2,000 METERS
With only a few reservations Jerry watched the new arrivals as they were herded from the big white bus through the narrow gates of the convent. There were only three men; all the others were women under thirty—or, at least, they resembled women. Some of the patients, he gathered, had already made a few faltering steps towards a crude form of self-inflicted transmogrification, some of it involving quite terrifying surgery.
He had decided not to present himself to his patients until the evening, during the Welcome Ceremony (which would be held in the ballroom, once the twin chapels) since, at this stage, he would be bound to make them feel self-conscious. Even as the white bus disappeared into the new underground garage a black Mercedes two-tonner took its place, unloading amplifiers and instruments, music for the ball. He stepped back from his window. As the population increased, so, in direct proportion, would his clients. He went over to his new console, turning
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