“Gamblers don’t shake hands. It’s a burden best left for those in corporations. Come on. You play nice with us, we’ll show you how we do things.”
Devin stood up and led him to the dining room. Devin took a seat at a table for two. Pierre saw Josephine a couple tables away, talking and laughing with some people he didn’t recognize. “Jerry spoke highly of you.” Devin removed a gun from the inside of his jacket and placed it next to his plate. “That’s why you’re not already dead. Hungry?”
“Yeah. Can I get some steak or something?”
“We eat a healthy diet, Pierre.”
Pierre looked at the gun by Devin’s side. “No need to kill innocent animals, huh?”
“’The cruelty of thoughtlessness.’ You been reading that Friedrich Neitzsche?”
“Not regularly, no. Had a lot to worry about.”
Devin looked around and announced loudly, “Pierre Morena doesn’t have an acceptor.”
“What did you do to Dot?”
“I told her you killed her Godmother, Kalpana.” A waiter walked up to the table and Devin said, “Get Pierre some steak.”
“I didn’t kill her. It was Caleb Price.”
“Yeah, well, she’s dead I guess is all that matters to Dot.”
“You hit her,” Pierre stared daggers at him, realizing that a week ago he would have been scared of the gun. Not anymore.
“You keep your pants zipped up around her. There’s more where that came from. She’s an angel. And I don’t want her corrupted by an Audric Compliant that no one cares about. You’re just a pretty boy.”
“If no one cares why not just kill me.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Has the shot been authorized?”
Devin picked up the gun and fired it a few feet to the left of Pierre’s head. The bullet buried itself in the wall. Pierre looked back at where it had made its mark and felt his heart thumping.
“When we walk into a facility, you think we’d have the power we have if people didn’t know we could have real guns. We just don’t use them.”
Pierre had never known the answer to this question. He sat in silence and then pushed the words out, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. “For Gamblers, who authorizes the shots?”
“Pretty rare a shot is authorized for a Gambler. But I authorize it. Then approval needs to be finalized by Hendrick.”
“I need a shot authorized for Caleb Price.”
Devin nodded. “That’s what Dot wants also. I’ll see what I can do.”
“What does Caleb want from me?”
“Genesis Smith wants a series of stories for his speech to the world in two weeks. You’ve been bred for that distinct purpose. No one expected the article in The London Times. The fact that your Pure Pierre shows how quickly someone can fall. Plan is to make you so depressed you wish you were dead. They might even ask you to say something in favor of Audric when the time comes. You’re perfect for it.”
“I’m barely depressed.”
“Give it a couple weeks. Dot left this for you.”
He pulled a bottle of medication out of his jacket pocket.
“What is it?”
“It’s Prozac Generation 15. Anti-depressant.”
“What’s an anti-depressant?”
“If you don’t have an acceptor it … “
Pierre finished the thought. “… It increases the extracellular level of the serotonin by
limiting its reabsorption into the presynaptic cell. Makes you less depressed.”
“Yeah. GSKT 2300. Not all it’s cracked up to be. I suppose you don’t want to know the reason why.”
“What’s the reason why?”
“It’s shortens the life span. You have two years to live.”
Pierre felt dizzy. It was the same feeling he felt when reading the hall talk about the Bertrand Russell quote and the Albert Einstein quote at the Sanitarium. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. It wasn’t the philosophy. It wasn’t even the GSKT 2300. The dizziness and nausea was worse than ever. It was what Devin had said: two years to live combined with the knowledge from the GSKT 2300. The thought of Dot came into his mind, and he found himself wondering if he’d ever see her again.
“That’s why they don’t use the GSKT 2300 widespread,” Devin said. “Oh look. Here’s your steak.”
A woman with an angry smile placed a raw cut of meat in front of Pierre. She looked at
Devin and gave a loyal nod. “Not exactly steak tartar, I fear. But it’s probably best you don’t eat. Focus on that hunger, use it to your advantage.”
Pierre looked up. “For what?”
“For the test,” Devin said. He stood up, and put the gun back in his jacket. He looked over at Josephine and she met his gaze. He made a motion with his head meaning for her to follow. “I got the idea when contemplating your predicament with Dot. See, the way I see it, you’re, without a doubt, a common breed. Dot attracts them like flies to,” he pointed to Pierre’s plate, “raw meat. So I figure we’ll find out for sure.” He rearranged his collar. “Feel all right to stand?”
Pierre nodded. “Yeah.”
Pierre followed Devin into the lounge of the hotel, Josephine following behind him. He turned and saw she had a little smile on her lips. Pierre closed his eyes again, feeling like he needed to do well on the test. Devin could shoot him in the head anytime he wanted and no one would care.
They entered a soundproof room with a table, a mirror on every wall, and three chairs. A tablet was suspended in midair. Devin put his arm on Pierre’s back and sat him down in front of the tablet. A helmet rested on the table. Pierre had heard of these. They measured brain waves. Over the past one hundred years the science of brainwaves had become exact. They knew more or less everything there was to know about them.
“This device measures mental activity,” Devin said, as he handed the helmet to Pierre. “In this particular case, the emotions generated by the amygdala and other pleasure centers in the brain. It will measure the delta waves which increase as you concentrate, and theta waves which respond to emotionally frustrating events or situations. Those theta waves get above eight hertz, I’m gonna blow your goddamn head off. ”
Devin took a seat and pulled out the gun. Josephine stood in front of Pierre, the little smile still on her face. She took a comb out of her hair and her hair fell on her shoulders. Pierre swallowed -- hard.
“See,” Devin went on, as he took an envelope out of his jacket, “when you use the suit there’s no emotional connection with another person. The good news is you’re not a virgin. The bad news is, Josephine was in last March’s issue of Gambler’s Playboy.” He chuckled.
The test was about sexual frustration measured by theta waves. Pierre thanked his stars he had gone to see Rio recently. The test measured emotional factors related to sex, those that had been learned over time. Pierre looked at the gun and wondered if that would influence the outcome. “Maybe it’s measuring my reaction to the gun,” Pierre said.
Devin was stone-faced. “Then don’t focus on the gun. Those theta waves will show us if you really are Pure Pierre.” He turned to Josephine. “Josephine. You’re view of this swain?”
Pierre knew the word swain. It meant “suitor.” The thought of Dot came into his mind again, and he wondered if he had a chance with her.
Josephine shrugged.
“My sentiments too really,” Devin said. “Look at the tablet.”
There were two columns on the right side of the screen, each with building blocks that would either appear or disappear as they monitored the delta waves and theta waves. Pierre knew a program like this was fairly easy to design and Devin himself had probably done it. He stared at the theta column, telling himself it had to stay below eight hertz.
Then an image appeared on the screen. It was a spreadsheet, a sales report from the BIP. On the left side of the screen
was written the product being sold. Generation Gold Smoked Salmon. Little Amore Perfume. And Pierre was searching for Pierre Morena Orangina Bottles but didn’t see them. He felt his nerves subside as he began to wonder how many Orangina Bottles had sold. Josephine removed her bra.
“Are we gonna have a conversation or something?” Pierre asked.
“Yes.” Devin pulled out a stack of papers from the envelope. “Pulled your file. Gonna
talk about your ex-girlfriends.”
Pierre thought of asking how Devin got his file but thought better of it. Devin seemed to
know what he was thinking.
“Gamblers hacked Southwick Harbor a long time ago. And David Thindrel is working both sides. Probably noticed the Grease covered pony tail.”
Pierre realized he had noticed that. Henry Alexander was using the Grease also. He could only guess how many other Audric Compliant were. It was a way to be free of Southwick Harbor without even having one’s acceptor or bracelet removed. There probably weren’t laws against it – yet. Josephine was now completely nude. The editors of Gamblers Playboy weren’t mistaken. She was first class. Pierre looked back at the screen.
“Gonna talk about five girls. You pass the test, you get to live. I’ll let Dot know how you did.”
Dot was his only reason to survive this, he thought. Two years to live, and estranged from almost everyone he’d ever trusted. The theta waves hit four hertz. Pierre knew that if he wanted to keep the theta waves down his best bet was to focus on the BIP and look at Josephine as rarely as possible. “Can I see today’s sales report on the BIP?”
Devin didn’t answer. “Margaret Hutch.”
Pierre’s mind went to seventh grade math class. Margaret Hutch used to spend the class staring at him. He didn’t find her attractive, but he didn’t know of anyone else who was interested in him, so he’d decided to go see a film with her. She wore glasses and had braces. She was known for her intellect.
“Judging by this picture it didn’t go both ways. She had a crush on you I’m guessing. Not likewise?”
Pierre shrugged. “Something like that. She was a nice girl.” He looked at the building blocks in the theta column. He was up to three hertz. “She was a genius.”
“How far did you go with her?”
“We kissed. That was it.”
“Took a step ladder up in eighth grade. Anna Lee. Profile of her says straight A’s and voted best eyes. She was even a ballerina. How’d that go?”
“The name Pure Pierre started that year. It stuck.”
“Made you a high school celebrity, I gather. First time was with Anna.”
Pierre nodded feeling amorous and keeping his eyes off Josephine. “Did they talk to
Anna about me?”
“Yes. They did.”
“Of course,” Pierre mumbled, thinking of the plan to make him depressed for Genesis Smith’s speech. He felt like fainting. He needed to distract himself and he looked at the sales report, realizing that it was a voice activated computer. “Show me Orangina Bottles,” Pierre said.
“Not gonna find it,” Devin said. “Orangina Bottles didn’t start selling until a week ago.”
He had a flashback to Gordy saying the people buying Pierre Morena Orangina Bottles are going to get incredibly depressed, and he began to worry about the welfare of all of Audric. People may have started buying them since the ad claiming he had no acceptor. Surely, people had been typing his name into the BIP for information about him.
“Mammi Ama Oteri. In Gamblers Seventeen. A model. She said you didn’t have feelings for her.”
“I may have,” Pierre said, thinking it smart to not admit the truth.
Devin raised his eyebrows, apparently knowing it wasn’t true. He put his hand on the gun and moved it closer to him.
“She was prestigious,” Pierre said. “Everyone thought so.”
The theta waves were at six hertz. Devin cocked the gun.
Pierre looked back at the sales report. “Show me the report from last month.”
The computer displayed the report. Orangina bottles had sold twelve in the three day period at the end of last month. That was before the Gamblers ran the ad. Twelve was no big deal, Pierre thought. But he didn’t know how many had sold since the ad.
“Angel Levine,” Devin said. “Eating disorder, anorexic. You try to help her with that?”
“Tried. She couldn’t be helped,” Pierre said.
“But she looked like a model and that was why you liked her. Sexually too?”
Pierre pursed his lips, thinking this unnecessary. He shrugged. He glanced at Josephine by accident. He was now so aroused it was painful.
“You familiar with the science of neuro associative conditioning?” Devin asked.
Pierre knew where this was going. He nodded.
Devin pushed on. “Theresa Jones. Heroin addict. Not exactly considered Audric
Compliant. I think you got in with Theresa because you had a suspicion there was a conspiracy against you and you wanted to rebel.”
Pierre nodded.
“When did you first suspect?”
“Theresa said if I became a drug addict like her I’d be better off.”
“She’s dead. Not much better off.”
Pierre felt his face grow red. “I didn’t know. Let me see the sales report from today,”
Pierre said to the computer.
The computer brought up a new page. Pierre was right. Since the ad for Grease, most of Brighton had looked him up on the BIP, and 4000 Orangina Bottles had been sold in two days.
“You want to tell me why sales of Orangina bottles are through the roof?” Devin asked.
“My friend Gordy is selling them. His father is helping him. He’s a high ranking executive in Generation Gold. The computer at Southwick thinks Orangina bottles are RF shielding. Everyone’s gonna get depressed.”
“That’s what I thought. People looking you up on the BIP. You passed the test. You really are Pure Pierre. But there’s something you didn’t think of. You’ve been trying to minimize your theta waves in the presence of a naked woman at gun point. Neurologically you’re now fucked. Next time you’re with a naked woman, you see how you feel. When it comes time to blame someone, you remember that I pack a loaded gun.”
Pierre felt like lunging at him.
“There was another reason I administered this test. I want you to know everyone you ever knew or cared about is in jeopardy. Genesis Smith will stop at nothing to further his agenda. He’ll kill each and every girl I’ve mentioned. I’ll tell Dot you passed the test. I’ll tell her you really are Pure Pierre. And maybe she’ll tell you the rest. I’ll let you know upfront. Me and you, Pierre, aren’t going to be friends.”
Pierre thought if he saw Devin smile he’d try to tear it off his face.
Pierre entered his room, fell on the bed, and let the tears flow until he felt the pain in his belly subside. He washed his face in the bathroom with room service in the back of his mind. He sat on the bed and tried to come up with a game plan. He asked himself what he cared about. He cared about his parents. He knew that he cared about Dot. But he was no longer a champion of Audric. He was in no man’s land and he needed to find his footing.
Pierre looked through the vegan menu on the tablet and ordered himself a veggie burger and some fries. He hadn’t eaten in what felt like ages. Devin had told him to get some food, and while Pierre had questions, he knew Devin wasn’t going to answer them. He needed to find Dot. He needed to ask her about the picture in the back of Thirteen Reason’s Why. He needed to know everything she knew. As he closed his eyes and fell asleep, he told himself he was going to find his parents.
He awoke at midnight and found his food had been left on the night table. He scarfed it down, and felt his forehead was hot. He looked out the window thinking of Dot, wondering if she was presently engaged with
a paying customer. He laid back down, and felt the nerves in his belly. Unable to sleep, he left his room. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he had to go somewhere. The elevator doors opened and Dot stood there.
Pierre knew that Dot was with a number of boys regularly and could have any boy she wanted. So what made Pierre any different? He knew the only way to her heart was to take her to the bottom of the pool with him until she couldn’t deny she only wanted to be with him. Pierre’s looks were irrelevant. It was about depth. Dot knew something about him that she didn’t tell him yet. Pierre had to find out what.
“You don’t even have a bruise,” she said, shaking her head. “I hit like a girl.” Dot stepped out of the elevator, and they walked towards Pierre’s room.
“I didn’t kill Kalpana.”
“You also didn’t provide her a proper burial. She spent two hours in that room before
anyone found her.”
“I was sort of preoccupied. Caleb Price could have killed me.”
“Not preoccupied enough. I heard you passed the test.”
“Yeah.”
“I guess you think I’m gonna jump into bed with you.”
“You said we could talk.”
“Fine,” Dot opened the door to Pierre’s room. “Let’s talk.”
Pierre sat on a chair and Dot dove onto the bed. She put her head on her hand and looked at him.
“I’ve never needed a boost,” Pierre said. “That’s why.”
Dot smiled. “You must have known.”
Pierre sighed. “I know.” Tears came to his eyes. “When I found out, that I didn’t have an acceptor, it was barely a surprise. It just felt like someone else calling me Pure Pierre. When I woke up in the infirmary I could remember someone saying, ‘Do what you’re told. You’re good at that.’ Now, I think it was Devin’s voice. Did Devin administer the GSKT 2300?”
Dot shrugged. “I can’t tell you what happened.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll try to kill him.”
Pierre leaned forward. “Did Devin break my ribs and legs?”
Dot nodded. “It was a machine that did it. They call it an ER Marine Machine.”
“What can you tell me about the other Pierre Morena?”