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Ribofunk :: Филиппо Пол Ди
Страница: 75 из 156We garnered dirty looks as we went in, but no one tried to stop us. We left the Bulldog by the entrance to forestall anyone sending up a warning.
As we approached the third floor door of Rowena Mayr's flat, I spotted K-mart's hand hovering near his flashlight.
I didn't know what to expect from Rowena Mayr, but it wasn't what appeared when the door finally opened to our knock.
Rowena Mayr was a frazettatoid, member of a highly egocentric group that had splintered off the old Society for Creative Anachronism. Boris had probably been one too.
You didn't see them around much anymore, and I was surprised there were any left unretrofitted. No wonder the Mayrs hadn't felt comfortable in the spartan, utilitarian environment of Aquarius…
Rowena had had her body sculpted to resemble one of the impossible fantasy women from the canvases of her faction's namesake reed-pair artist. Huge cantilevered boobs, a waist so slim it must have involved major organ displacement, and callipygian ass. She wore a tiny metal bra, some faux barbaric jewelry. From a fake gold chain around her waist hung a few wisps of colored silk.
She was such a self-contained, self-immersed, impossible creation that being in the same room with her was like sharing space with an ancient animatronic figure. I tried imagining having her as my mother. It was a major stretch.
"Yes, Officers. How can I help you?"
"It's about your son, Bert. Can we come in?"
"Certainly."
The flat was furnished in High Conan. We sat on embroidered cushions and explained the trouble her son had gotten himself into.
"Well, I feel extremely bad for Bertie. He was always a good boy and showed such promise. Red Sonia knows, I did my best with him! But I don't see how I can help you now."
"He hasn't been in touch with you recently?"
"Not for years."
K– mart stood. "Mind if we have a look around?"
Rowena got hastily to her feet. "Unless you have a warrant, I'm afraid that's out of the question."
Nodding toward a closed door, K-mart said, "What's in there?"
"That's my shrine to Dagon. Very innocent, I assure you. But sacred. Now, if you don't mind, Officers, I'd like to be alone-"
K– mart started to rap a string of antisense as he ambled about the room. "Oh, I was raised Dagonite, but I fell away. Haven't seen a shrine in ages. You don't mind, do you?"
Before Rowena could stop him, K-mart had pulled the door open.
The Blankie was waiting.
As we approached the third floor door of Rowena Mayr's flat, I spotted K-mart's hand hovering near his flashlight.
I didn't know what to expect from Rowena Mayr, but it wasn't what appeared when the door finally opened to our knock.
Rowena Mayr was a frazettatoid, member of a highly egocentric group that had splintered off the old Society for Creative Anachronism. Boris had probably been one too.
You didn't see them around much anymore, and I was surprised there were any left unretrofitted. No wonder the Mayrs hadn't felt comfortable in the spartan, utilitarian environment of Aquarius…
Rowena had had her body sculpted to resemble one of the impossible fantasy women from the canvases of her faction's namesake reed-pair artist. Huge cantilevered boobs, a waist so slim it must have involved major organ displacement, and callipygian ass. She wore a tiny metal bra, some faux barbaric jewelry. From a fake gold chain around her waist hung a few wisps of colored silk.
She was such a self-contained, self-immersed, impossible creation that being in the same room with her was like sharing space with an ancient animatronic figure. I tried imagining having her as my mother. It was a major stretch.
"Yes, Officers. How can I help you?"
"It's about your son, Bert. Can we come in?"
"Certainly."
The flat was furnished in High Conan. We sat on embroidered cushions and explained the trouble her son had gotten himself into.
"Well, I feel extremely bad for Bertie. He was always a good boy and showed such promise. Red Sonia knows, I did my best with him! But I don't see how I can help you now."
"He hasn't been in touch with you recently?"
"Not for years."
K– mart stood. "Mind if we have a look around?"
Rowena got hastily to her feet. "Unless you have a warrant, I'm afraid that's out of the question."
Nodding toward a closed door, K-mart said, "What's in there?"
"That's my shrine to Dagon. Very innocent, I assure you. But sacred. Now, if you don't mind, Officers, I'd like to be alone-"
K– mart started to rap a string of antisense as he ambled about the room. "Oh, I was raised Dagonite, but I fell away. Haven't seen a shrine in ages. You don't mind, do you?"
Before Rowena could stop him, K-mart had pulled the door open.
The Blankie was waiting.