was grateful, though, that an identity switch was the best he could
come up with. After looking at me expectantly for a moment, he
scowled and waved the pistol. Let s go, Sergeant Abalain, he said.
The Blancs had seen us, of course, and a well-armed reception
party was waiting when we emerged from the ruins and into the
street across which their checkpoint sat. Abalain pushed me for-
ward, then raised his hands above his head. A Blanc in stained
coveralls gestured for me to do the same.
I hope you guys can help me, Abalain said when we reached
the Blancs. His English was almost completely unaccented, and I
gave him points for that. A resourceful fellow, our sergeant. I ve
been a prisoner of those bastards for months, he continued.
This is one of them. His name s Abalain. He s my gift to you if
you ll call my embassy and get me out of here.
That set everyone to babbling. I smiled. Thanks, I said to
Abalain. I always wanted to be famous. He didn t break char-
acter, not that I d expected him to.
An oUcer showed up. His uniform was tailored, clean and
crisply pressed. He wore aviator sunglasses and carried a swag-
ger stick. No wonder you guys can t retake the city, I thought. So
this is the infamous Sergeant Abalain, he said to me.
Fraid not, I told him. But that is. I nodded at Abalain.
His face spasmed in pretty convincing outrage. He lies! he
shouted. He kidnapped me and killed my friends! You can t let
him get away with this!
Oh, come on, I said. I turned to the oUcer. Isn t there any-
one here who s seen a picture of Abalain? I already knew the
answer to that like many of his erstwhile companions, Abalain
had been pretty thorough about avoiding cameras but I was
playing a role now myself.
The oUcer smiled, obviously pleased with himself. Perhaps
the thing to do is to try the both of you. You can t both be Abalain,
but on the chance that one of you is . . .
It was time. I unbuttoned my jacket. We can settle this easily,
I said, and unbuckled Abalain s wearable. Abalain s jaw dropped
96 WITPUNK
along with his new persona. I paused, savoring the moment. This
was no substitute for Sissy, or even for the weeks he d ripped from
my life. But it was all I was likely to get, so I wanted it to last.
I showed the wearable to the oUcer. Retinal lock, I said.
If you want to see your cousin again, monsieur, stop now.
That pissed me oT. You pathetic son of a bitch, I said. I
pulled the Ximsies the list of inductees and the bunk assign-
ments from my pocket. I held them up in his face. Where s the
Canadian female, François? Look, I stabbed the Ximsy as though
it were Abalain s heart. She was inducted now look here, I
rattled the bunk assignments. No bunk what happened to her,
Monsieur le sergeant? Sent to Montmarte? Target practice? A
note of hysteria crept into my voice. I swallowed, balled up the
Ximsies and tossed them against his chest.
No, he said. It wasn t like that
I didn t let him Wnish. Smacking the wearable up against my
face, I thumbed the power switch. The computer farted its
displeasure. How sad, I said. Sergeant Abalain s computer
doesn t like the look in my eye. I turned it toward Abalain, who
backed away. Gentlemen? I said to the Blancs. Two of them
grabbed Abalain by the shoulders. He tried to twist his head away,
but the wearable was more Xexible than his neck was. A second
later, the computer chirped and lit up all Christmas.
I dropped the wearable to the ground and emptied my pockets
onto it. You should be able to have some fun with all of this, I
said. Abalain babbled something I didn t hear. The oUcer slapped
him in the face whether in response or just on general principle,
I didn t care. Then they were all hitting him.
I used the last of my steri-wipes to get his blood oT my hands.
Day 63: It ll All End in Tears
France thanks you for the service you have rendered her, mon-
sieur. I Wgured the Blanc general was speaking more for the
beneWt of the news weasels on the other side of the mirrorwall
than he was for me, but I nodded my head with what I hoped
looked like sagacity. Bringing the beast Abalain to justice will
I LOVE PAREE 97
show the world the true face that lies behind the mask of the
Commune de Paris.
I tried to be blasé about it. But looking at this guy, I couldn t
help but wonder about the arithmetic of Paree: how in the world
did you add up the folks on my street, the ones I played baseball
with, and the ones who sold me bread and sausage and wine and
end up with assholes like Abalain or this prat? What variable in
the goddamn equation made people stop thinking and let their
emotions do all the heavy lifting?
I d hoped to feel cleansed at having done for Abalain, but I didn t.
Good for you, I said, getting to my feet. I d love to stay and
watch, but I have to go home now. I m going to take a forty-eight-
hour shower, and then I m going to sleep for a week.
I believe the people from your embassy want to talk to you,
Monsieur Rosen, the general said warily.
Have them call my service, I said. That s me: Mister How to
Make Friends and InXuence People.
The photographers say they re not Wnished yet.
That s just great, I thought. Is there anybody in this city who
isn t working an angle?
Sissy hadn t been working anything except maybe her hor-
mones. I d been able to store her carefully in the back of my mind
while working up my escape plan. But she was clamoring to get [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]