IAN LEE .sx Once Upon a Time in the Park .sx Once upon a time in the Park there used to be quite a lot of equestrianism .sx And almost every day there was natation in the serpentine lake .sx On the paths and even on the grass itself there was perambulation of both a directed and an undirected kind .sx And bicyclists of different ages and levels of fitness were allowed to pedal to work along the road by the lake .sx On a handful of summer days , after noon and ices at the lakeside pagoda café , there was a display of human heliotropism .sx More often , there was scope for pluviometry .sx It was all very constitutional .sx Athleticism was tolerated in its place , alongside a little ornithology or urban archaeology .sx Joggers who were guests at nearby hotels puffed and panted away the excesses of the night before or the night to come .sx There were team joggers , too , running for Rugby practices or , in the case of the posse of squaddies from the Royal barracks , sometimes even for punishment .sx The fattest and most unfit amongst them would pant red-faced and sweaty at a great distance behind the leaders .sx Tubby tubs of blubber rub-a-dubbing along .sx It was all very British .sx On occasion I used to see Prince and Princess Malcolm out for a morning ride , he looking more and more like George V with each passing season , she remote like a snow-capped Alpine summit atop an eighteen-hand chestnut mare .sx They were always accompanied by some anonymous bodyguard and sometimes by a lesser royal ; for instance , Lady Antonia Doesntmatter , daughter of Princess Margot , or the Duke of Hargood or Avon or one of those other ones who tries to do an ordinary job in the City .sx Squadrons of cavalry , too , some mornings .sx And on less auspicious days , I would see commoner mortals walking the face of the Earth .sx Lord Harrington , for instance , or Norman St John Paul Stevens or Sir Roy Geldhough out for a jog before a tough morning's creativity .sx I know how he must have been feeling .sx There was a wonderful absence of vehicles , save the odd Panda or a grocery delivery to the café or the restaurant .sx When I used to cycle through the Park myself , I found all this uniquely reassuring .sx Everyone knew his place , you see .sx There was the illusion of democracy and freedom as the compartments were somehow orchestrated into a picturesque heterogeneity that carried to threat of republicanism .sx For Ron , the chargehand gardener , however , the essence of the Park had always been to serve the King through the medium of horticulture .sx Although the public was allowed in , they were always there on sufferance :sx they could pass through , they could even stay awhile for a picnic or other recreation but visitors they would remain .sx They were not encouraged to stay overnight .sx When horticulture was extended to include the new techniques of bioengineering , this was seen by Roy as a cause for rejoicing , as the scope for service was thereby increased .sx The area of the Park given over to 'projects' could be increased and the public's access could be more tightly controlled .sx The notion grew within Ron that the real purpose of the Park could be pursued with increased efficiency and thoroughness and that extraneous activities of the Park could be reduced , curtailed , limited and finally eradicated .sx At that time , when I was still a free agent , most things in the Park were still natural .sx The greatest exception was the deckchairs .sx These , in their bioengineered form , so closely mimicked the look of their natural prototypes that at twenty paces one could not tell the difference .sx They grazed upon the sloping sward .sx But whereas one might have taken such a description as metaphorical , even poetic , it was now no more than a slightly quaint description of reality .sx Indeed , they moved so very slowly , nibbled so minutely and collected payment with such delicacy and tact as would surely convert any but most hardened naturetarian to the benefits of bio-improvement .sx The natural geese , on the other hand , still messed up the road with excrement of tourist bread and cheese .sx Ron had not yet perfected the Goose-guano beetle he was working on to clear up after them .sx But Ron was not looking to introduce change precipitately .sx As a gardener , he took his cue from the pace of the natural world .sx While by no means a haystalk-chewer , he did nevertheless maintain a strong sense of the need for change to be evolutionary and for the strategic plan of the Park's development to include the timescales not only of the marigold and daffodil , but also those of the oak .sx And though he found to his satisfaction that he was extremely adept in all the new bioengineering techniques , he was not tempted to introduce too many new species too fast or to micromanage the lifestyles of all the plants and creatures in his charge .sx Ron particularly loved his rose garden .sx The rose beds were set in an area of lawn fenced off behind low railings at the eastern end of the Park .sx They were meticulously tended and packed with such an exquisitely balanced stock that from June to September they presented a picture of loveliness that would bring gasps of wonder and delight from all who looked upon them .sx In the early evening the sweet perfume of La Reine Victoria and the Duke of Windsor ( for sentimental reasons Ron favoured the heavily fragrant old roses and floribundas with distinguished names ) would hang so sweetly in the air that even the surliest jogger or transiting alcoholic would slow his pace to drink in the beneficent aroma .sx Looking back , I can fix the turning point of both my life and Ron's to the very second .sx The carriages from the Palace were making their fortnightly exercise along the main road through the Park and for once the Lord Chamberlain of the Household had decided to accompany them in order to take the air .sx It was a fine morning after heavy overnight rain and there was a slight breeze from the east .sx On passing the rose garden the Lord Chamberlain became aware of the heavenly aroma and called for his carriage to halt .sx The black horses stood stock still , plumes of breath visible in the cool morning air , the black shiny carriage with the Royal coat of arms standing behind them like a hearse .sx As it happened , Ron was walking almost exactly opposite the carriage as it stopped and the whole following scene took place as neatly as though choreographed for a formula TV drama .sx The Lord Chamberlain addressed Ron directly , seeking to know who was responsible for the roses .sx Having discovered that the answer was standing before him , he immediately ordered that six dozen of the choicest and most scented blooms should be delivered to the Palace that very morning .sx At that same moment I was cycling along , minding my own business ( more or less but had allowed my attention to become distracted by the sight of the Lord Chamberlain , who was tall , distinguished and wearing a black morning coat , in conversation with Ron , who was round-shouldered , shifty and had his overalls held up with a tie .sx Some days in the Park , when the tarmac is wet and the sun is still low in the morning sky , the glare from the road is so intense that one cannot see where one is going at all .sx On this particular day , thus distracted and blinded from all the normal sensory contact and control , and at the very moment the Lord Chamberlain was ordering the six dozen roses for His Majesty , I crashed into a Panificio Siciliano bakery lorry , which was intent on delivery to the lakeside restaurant and coming along on the wrong side of the road .sx I was killed outright .sx The postillion of the Royal landau , unfortunately , was listening to a personal stereo and remained unaware of my plight , which was beyond the scope of his peripheral vision .sx The Lord Chamberlain's senses were fully occupied with the roses and Ron's were fully occupied with the Lord Chamberlain .sx The bakery driver , who had a part-time job in the Paddington mafia and didn't want to get involved with the police , made an extraordinarily rapid assessment of his situation and then scooped up my body and my bicycle and threw it into the back of his lorry along with the big brown paper sacks of French sticks .sx An hour later , unobserved , he left my remains in some rhododendron bushes behind a statue dedicated to the cavalry of the Empire , which is were Ron found me late that afternoon .sx One thing you have to admire about Ron is his farsightedness .sx He had already , within hours , realised that a special relationship with the Lord Chamberlain of the Household and a contract to supply roses could well be the opportunity of a lifetime .sx Somehow Ron knew that , like the inexorable burgeoning of a wigwam of sweet peas , this opportunity would grow and grow but would need food and attention if it was to survive .sx He knew that his empire was going to expand and that he would need more resources of all practical kinds .sx When he came across my body , still fresh , and the discarded bicycle , still oiled , he knew that an evening's work in the laboratory could produce something very useful at almost no cost .sx I was never heard of again .sx Work thought I was ill , home thought I was just staying late at the office or had gone somewhere for a drink or someone's leaving or birthday party .sx By the time I was reported missing - late the next morning - there was no evidence of where I had gone at all .sx For many weeks life in the Park showed no discernible change .sx As I went round with Ron about his business , helping him carry manure for the roses , I became more familiar with the range of life within the Park .sx Ron would talk to me about it ; he knew that he had restored some sentience to my creaking frame , though to this day I cannot be sure whether he knew how much .sx He spoke as though he were speaking to himself and it was thus that I became aware of his deepest fears and longings .sx I also , of course , without volition and therefore without guilt , became his accomplice .sx The mornings remained quiet , even stately , and very British , the riders , the swimmers , walkers , tramps , soldiers and occasional celebrities acknowledging each other's presence with the barest nods of recognition , each wrapped in his or her own private communion with nature .sx Later in the day , the swarms of tourists would invade , running , littering , sprawling , and trampling without though beyond immediate gratification of base desires .sx The stench of decayed meat began to float from the franchised hot-dog and burger cabins .sx Ron would become more and more irritable as the day went on , as his scum formed on the surface of his beloved Park , as the deckchairs were abused , as people who were really no better than common peasants would use the rides for sand fights or even open defecation .sx By the early evening on a warm summer day the scene by the serpentine lake would metamorphose again from the morning's Britishness into a Byzanmtine phantasmagoria .sx Half close you eyes and you could imagine yourself on the corniche at Abu Dhabi .sx Swarthy faces and flashing eyes and wrists patrolled the lakeside drag .sx There were sheikhs and princes ( at least Ron said they were ) and lofty Bedu , leavened with darker faces and crinkly hair from Zanzibar or the smaller , wirier shopkeeper class from Gujerat via Dubai .sx Ron had learned the distinctions of caste like a true phylum/species-trained horticulturist .sx Away to the west and north-east the jewellery and perfume counters of Selfridges and Harrods lay in ruins .sx Back here men in white shoes and bracelets , neck chains and open-necked shirts would parade with the nonchalance of the very rich .sx Behind them , wrapped dolls waddled in black , faces beaked .sx Other dolls adopted a different style , brightly coloured in silks and taffeta that fluoresced in the early evening sun .sx SONNIE'S EDGE .sx P.F.Hamilton .sx I LEANT on Cloudborne's starboard rail as we left the Fens Archipelago behind and sailed into the calm , mud-thickened water of Peterborough's harbour basin .sx My reflection wavered languidly on the coffee coloured surface , shot through with the sun's polarised dazzle flecks :sx a twenty-two year old girl with a blonde bob hairstyle , wearing a sleeveless black t-shirt and olive-green bermuda shorts , feet crammed into fraying white pumps .sx The face wasn't bad , Jacob had rebuilt it to give me the prominent cheek bones I'd always wanted as a teenager .sx Maybe it wasn't as expressive as it should've been , but the gentle swell made it hard to tell .sx Salt air crashed with the dry gamey breath of the city , a coarse jaded brew , baked by the steel noon sun overhead .sx The smell slipped down easy , like a tonic .sx It spoke of hustling , of fear and pain .sx City and People are almost a state of mind to me , I feed off them , knowing what they want , supplying it .sx Post-Warming life is dull , repetitive ; it is time holding its breath .sx One day , our gene-tailored plants will replenish the ozone , and the frosts are going to return to crisp the land ; when they do life will quicken .sx But meantime , we idle by .sx It's an era in which excitement can command high prices .sx Excitement , that's how me and the rest of Sonnie's Predators suckle money .sx And we've brought a slice to Peterborough .sx Tonight , there's going to be a fight .sx Biestie-Baiting :sx the all-time blood-sport ; spectacularly gory , ultra-emotive , addictive , and always lethal .sx It's new and it's happening .sx And Sonnie's Pedators are one nova-hot team .sx Seventeen straight wins .sx We've got Baiter groupies strung out from the Orkney isles down to Cornwall .sx I was lucky , plugging in at level one , when all the rage was modifying rottweilers and dobermans with fang implants and razor claws .sx Karran and Jacob were the team's nucleus , loaded with grade fourteen bioware Technique .sx They'd skipped out of their agricultural combine , blued with its restrictive , quasi-religious hierarchy .sx Bating was the only financially viable alternative for their talent , other than opting straight into another combine .sx Ivrina had just started helping them with gene splices when I arrived , a drifter with little ambition , but enough sense to realise this was different , something I could immerse myself in , maybe even make a go of .sx Wes joined seven months later , loaded with hardware Technique , an essential addition to a sport whose sophistication was increasing on a near-daily basis .sx He maintained the clone vats , lightware cores , and Khanivore's life support pod , plus a thousand miscellaneous units .sx And all of us took basic grade seamanship Buds to crew Cloudborne .sx We were doing all right , Jac's Banshees , as we were known back then , battling hard for cult status .sx A good win ratio , notching sixty per cent , scored us a long cool fix of brash optimism .sx Jac's Banshees were going to make it .sx The purse money was enough to keep us independent , the old poor but proud kick ; the majority of Baiter teams are syndicate backed , even the Rose parties field a few on the sly .sx Then I had my mishap , and we acquired our killer edge .sx I heard Cloudborne's membrane sail rustle softly behind me .sx Jacob was using his affinity link with the ship's bioware processors , ordering the photosynthetic sheet to furl itself ; reducing our speed as the water traffic built up around us .sx The port's fleet of fishing smacks were outbound , cruising down the deep water channel to the Wash .sx Two dozen square-rig merchantmen were anchored in a loose circle round the ruins of Peterborough's cathedral .sx Only the walls remained , sagging dangerously , chocolate-mud tide marks leeching to the lower stones .sx Smaller trading junks , of the kind that plough the runs between the Archipelago and the mainland , swarmed across the basin like flies around an Afghan meat stall .sx The bustle was fun to watch , the boats chirpy ; I'm a landgirl , born and bred , I have the same sort of dumb mesmerism for the sea as any five year old .sx And deep water doesn't scare me , not any more .sx The berth with Dicko , Peterborough's Baiting arena promoter , had booked for us was in an older part of the harbour , quieter ; the quay was wooden , standing on thick clustered pile stilts .sx Wes and I hopped the gap as Cloudborne drew alongside , and busied ourselves securing her cables to big iron rings .sx Karran dropped the plank and stepped ashore , setting a wide panama hat over her ruff of titian hair .sx Ivrina followed , wearing just a halter top and sawn-off jeans , UV-proofing had turned her skin a rich cinnamon .sx Wes snaked an arm protectively round her waist as she stood sniffing the air .sx " So how's the vibes , Sonnie ?sx " Karran asked .sx They all paused , even Jacob on deck .sx If a Baiting team's fighter hasn't got the right bounce , then you just pack up and go straight home .sx For all their ingenuity and technical back-up , the rest of the team play no part in the bout .sx It's all down to me .sx " Riding high , " I told them .sx " Wrap it up in five minutes .sx " There'd only been one time when we'd docked that I'd doubted ; up in Newcastle , a bout against King Panther .sx It'd wound up a bitch of a scrap , Khanivore was cut up pretty bad .sx Even then , I'd won .sx The stuff Baiter legends are made of .sx Ivrina paunched a fist into her palm .sx " Atta girl .sx " She looked peppery , spoiling for trouble .sx Anyone would think she was going to boost Khanivore .sx She certainly had the right fire ; but whether she'd have the nerve to go for my special brand of killer edge I don't know .sx It turned out that Dicko was a smooth organiser .sx A pleasant surprise ; some bouts we've wondered if we'd actually get there on the day .sx But we were still plugging Cloudborne's nutrient couplings into the quay's leaky arteries when his waggon rolled up .sx It was a covered flatbed , pulled by two beautiful black stallions .sx There were eight roadies from the arena to load Khanivore's life support pod , muscle-augments , looking like Mr Universe dolls someone had over-inflated .sx Jacob bossed them , his round beefy face sweating as the opaque glassy cylinder was hoisted out of the forward hold , along with his ancillary modules .sx He does the surgical work , stitching our beastie together from the components Ivrina and Karran grow in the vats .sx I don't know why he frets so ; more than any of us , he knows how tough Khaniovore's hide is .sx Jacob rode on the wagon with the driver , the rest of us followed in a couple of rickshaws .sx It took us nearly an hour to drive the two miles to the arena .sx Peterborough was wickedly overcrowded , pedestrians and cyclists wedged tight ; dense-packed buildings , new and ancient , a random collage of styles , their facades smothered in a patina of jet-black solar panels and emerald precipitator leaves .sx When the polar melt flooded the Fens , the city was swamped by refugees .sx Now those families are into their third generation ; they haven't got anywhere to go , not with the sea lapping their heels .sx Only cults , communes , and co-ops have the cash for coral seeds to grow islands out in the Archipelago-government doesn't .sx Peterborough is a microcosm of modern England , constructed and force grown ; a propagator of extremes , of wealth and poverty , spice and despair .sx I liked it .sx The arena had started life as a vast tubing warehouse before Dicko set up shop .sx He kept the corrugated panel shell , stripping out the auto-stack machinery , then grew a polyp pit in the centre-circular , fifteen yards in diameter , with a four-yard-high wall , its floor was roughened for traction .sx It was completely surrounded by amphitheatre seating , simple concentric circles of wooden plank benches straddling a spiderwork of rusty scaffolding .sx The top row was twenty yards above the cracked , dusty concrete floor , nearly scraping the condensation-slicked roof panelling .sx Looking at the rickety lash-up made me glad I wasn't a spectator .sx Our green room was the warehouse supervisor's office .sx The roadies grunted Khanivore's life support pod into place on a set of heavy wood trestles .sx They creaked , but held .sx Ivrina and I started taping black polythene over the grime crusted windows , Wes mated the ancillary modules with the arena's power supply , five two-metre square solar panels pinned to the roof .sx Jacob came in smiling broadly .sx " The odds are nine to two in favour .sx I put five grand on us .sx Reckon you can handle that , Sonnie ?sx " .sx " The Urban Gorgons have just acquired one dead beastie , " I said .sx " My girl , " Wes said proudly , slapping my shoulder .sx The words cut deep .sx Wes and I had been an inseparable pair for ten months , right up until my mishap .sx Now he and Ivrina were rocking the ship each night .sx I didn't hold it against him , not consciously anyway .sx But seeing them walking along , arms entwined , necking , laughing , that left me cold .sx Two hours before the bout Dicko showed up .sx He was a dignified old man , tall and thin , with bushy silvery hair , a slightly stiff walk .sx His garb was strictly last century :sx light grey suit with slim lapels , a white shirt with small maroon bow tie .sx There was a girl in tow , mid-teens and nicely proportioned , sweet-faced , too ; a fluff cloud of curly chestnut hair framing a composed demure expression .sx She wore a simple square-necked lemon-yellow dress with a long skirt .sx I felt sorry for her .sx But it's and ancient story , I get to see it countless times at each bout .sx At least it told me all I wanted to know about Dicko and his cultivated genteel mannerisms .sx Mr. Front .sx One of the roadies closed the door behind him , cutting off the sounds of conversation from the main hall , a buzzing PA .sx Dicko gave me and the other girls a shallow bow , and handed an envelope to Jacob .sx " Your appearance fee .sx " .sx The envelope disappeared into Jacob's sleeveless leather jacket .sx Delicate silver eyebrow lifted .sx " You are not going to count it ?sx " .sx " Your reputation is good , " Jacob told him .sx " You're a prop , top notch .sx That's the word .sx " .sx " How very kind .sx And you , too , are well recommended .sx " .sx I listened to him and the rest of the team swapping nonsense .sx I didn't like it , he was intruding .sx Some teams like to party pre-bout , some trash and re-trash tactics .sx Me , I like a bit of peace and quiet to zen myself up ; friends who'll talk if I want , who know when to keep quiet .sx I jittered about , wait-tension making my skin crawl .sx Every time I glanced at the girl her eyes dropped .sx " I wonder if I might take a peek at Khanivore ?sx " Dicko asked .sx The others swivelled en masse to consult me .sx " Sure thing , " I said .sx After the old boy had seen it maybe he'd scoot .sx You can't really shunt someone out of their own turf .sx We clustered round the life support pod , except for the girl .sx Wes turned down the opacity .sx Dicko's face hardened into grim appreciation , a corpse grin .sx It chilled me down .sx Khanivore is three yards high ; roughly hominoid , in that it has two trunk-like legs and a barrel torso , albeit encased in a black segmented exoskeleton .sx After that things get a little out of kilter .sx The top of the torso sprouts five armoured tentacles , two of them ending in pincers .sx They were curled up to fit into the pod , nesting boa constrictors .sx There was a thick , ten-inch , prehensile neck supporting a nightmare head .sx Sculpted from bone that'd been polished to a black chrome gleam , half of it a shark-snout jaw with a double row of teeth ; deep creases and circular recesses hid and protected sensor organs .sx Dicko reached out and touched the life support pod reverentially .sx " Excellent , " he whispered , then :sx " I want you to take a dive .sx " .sx There was a moment of dark silence .sx " Do what ?sx " Karran squeaked .sx Dicko beamed his dead smile straight at her .sx " A dive .sx You'll be well paid , double the winning purse , ten thousand guineas .sx That should go a long way to easing the strain on an amateur team like you .sx We can even discuss some future dates .sx " .sx STAR OF EPSILON .sx by Eric Brown .sx Paris was in again , a hundred years on :sx '68 found me on the left bank , playing to crowds in 'The Blue Shift' slouchbar .sx I blitzed 'em with cosmic visions .sx I sub-circuited direct , employed slo-mo , ra-ta-tat shots , even visual cut-ups , in homage .sx Goddard and Burroughs were back in , too, .sx Had to do with nostalgia , the harking back to supposedly better times .sx Hell .sx .. Didn't I know that ?sx Wasn't I cashing in on the fact that we all live a lie ?sx Wasn't I giving the crowds what they wanted 'cos they'd never get it otherwise ?sx I met her after a night performance .sx " The Blue Shift " was the scene that month .sx It wasn't just the drugs they pumped but the live acts , I liked to think .sx I alternated nights with a cute fifteen year-old sado-masochist on sensitized feedback .sx It wasn't my kick , but off-nights I'd sneak downstairs and jack-in .sx And jack-out again , fast .sx Three minutes was all I could take of this kid - my opposition .sx The management had it sussed .sx They played us counterpoint :sx one night this weird little girl giving out intimations of death and id-gris-lies like no kid should , and the next old Abe Santana with his visions of Nirvana-thru-flux , the glories of the space-lanes .sx The girl intrigued me .sx The neon-glitz out front billed her as Jo , and that was enough to pull the freaks .sx Her act was simple .sx On stage a sudden spotlight found a small cross-legged figure in a Pierrot suit , white-powdered face a paragon of melancholy complete with stylised tear .sx She'd come on easy at first , slipping fear sub-lim at the slouched crowd .sx Her head was shaven , but a tangle of leads snaking from her cortical-implant gave her the aspect of a par-shorn medusa .sx The leads went down inside her suit and into the stage , coming out by the cushions .sx Freaks jacked-in and got fear first , subtle unease .sx Then the kid shifted her position , sitting now with outstretched legs together , arms stanchioned behind her , palms down .sx The nursery pose contradicted the horror coming down the leads , the hindbrain terror of mortality .sx She tapped into us and found our fear of death and gave it back , redoubled - turning us to stone .sx First time I jacked-in I wondered how she did this , what magic she worked to show us that which we tried to deny , even to ourselves .sx So the next night I stayed with it a while longer , and I found out .sx Little Jo was dying .sx She was fifteen and she'd never see sixteen and the gut-kick I experienced when I realised this was zero compared with her angst .sx That's when I jacked-out , sickened , left and got loaded and tried to forget .sx Over the next few weeks I was lured back again and again .sx I knew what I wanted :sx not the orgasm of terror the rest of the crowd got high on , but the futile reassurance that Jo was not really dying , that her performance was just a death-analogue recorded from some terminal patient , encoded in Jo's computer and used cynically to thrill .sx But the more I experienced her act , the more I knew I was dreaming .sx Jo was dying , okay .sx She gave out death and when the audience were convinced that they were dying she reversed the feed and drank it back , and you could almost hear the gasp of her soul as its need was quenched .sx The kid's in love with death , I told myself , as if hoping this might ease my heartache :sx perhaps , if she was , then I could pity her a little less .sx .. Then one time I stayed in for ten minutes , and I found out the truth .sx The only reason she reversed the feed was to take from the crowd the knowledge that they too would some day die , to reassure herself that she was not alone in the dying process we all call living .sx That ten minutes was the last I took .sx I avoided the club on my night off .sx I couldn't go near the place and those freaks in there - I thought many a time over a drink in some darkened , nondescript bar - they stayed jacked-in for hours !sx And that brought me back to what I was running from , the fear of death and the terrible realisation that Jo was plugged into that weltschmerz for the rest of her life .sx .. And my act ?sx How many of the crowd who freaked out on Jo's came to mine ?sx Their diametric content would suggest none , but I hoped some people needed antidote .sx I'd start simple .sx I'd give them the experience of an Engineman emerging from the flux ; the elusive ghost of rapture that haunted his mind ; the drone of auxiliary burners ; the knowledge that we were lighting into the Nilakantha Stardrift on a mission of rescue .sx Then I'd hold this sensory input under and come in with the voice-over :sx " Fifty years ago I mind-pushed Bigships for the Canterbury Line .sx .. " .sx I'd take them at hyper-c through the Nada-continuum , coming out places they'd only dreamed about or seen in travel brochures .sx Black holes were a favourite , and I took them on a tour of a giant nicknamed Calcutta , courting disaster on the hazardous event-horizon , the Bigship a surfer on the math of Einstein-Fernandez physics .sx Then I'd sling the 'ship at a blistering tangent off across uncharted space , on the trail of new and more wondrous adventure .sx .. The main theme was always wonder - the hint of Nirvana that every Engineman experiences in the flux .sx My customers left satisfied , uplifted .sx Then one night after her performance Jo was stretchered off comatose , and I didn't know whether to feel relief that at last she had died , or sadness at the passing of someone I had hardly known .sx Later her manager told me that Jo was fine , she'd recover .sx Would I fill in for her this week ?sx And I said yes , relieved that I might have the opportunity to get to know her , after all , and hating myself because of that .sx We're quark-harvesting a long , long way from Earth .sx I step from the flux-tank , as we are coasting now .sx I look through the viewscreen , behold the sweeping sickle sponsors reaping fiery quarks .sx The 'aft scene is even more spectacular , a panoramic miracle .sx The converted energy is fired from the Bigship in blinding c-velocity bolts , streaking away on a multi-billion light year bend that describes the inner curve of the universe .sx And I'm moved almost to tears , along with my audience , though for different reasons .sx For a long time after the performance I sat yogi-fashion .sx The crowd cheered and applauded , then moved back to the bar or out into the night .sx And I was ashamed , like a preacher who has convinced his congregation but does not himself believe .sx Technicians dismantled the rig , unplugged me and wound in the leads .sx A few tourists tried to get to me , to say how much they'd enjoyed the performance .sx They were stopped by the heavies , who knew how low I left after my act .sx The club never closed , but trade hit a low around four in the morning .sx I was still there then , in the darkness of the stage , thinking back and regretting the events of all those years ago , the pretence of the present .sx A few junkies slouched at the bar , getting their fix jugularwise .sx As I sat , a kid crawled from a cushioned bunker between the bar and the stage .sx She headed my way on all fours , galumphing over cushions and the wraparound membranes in the floor .sx I assumed she was a fan who wanted to rap about how it was to flux on the Bigships .sx .. She climbed aboard the stage and sat before me cross-legged , like a mirror-image of myself .sx She had long black hair , too luxuriant for a kid her age , too sensual .sx " I loved our performance , " she said in a husky voice which , like her hair , belonged to a thirty year-old .sx She had a triangular , coffee-brown face and large green eyes .sx She should have been a nice-looking kid , but there was some disunity in the planes of her cheeks which made her almost ugly .sx " Hey , " I said , weary .sx " Go home .sx Get some sleep .sx " .sx A flash of emerald anger .sx " I said I liked your show .sx " .sx " And I said- " .sx " Abe , " she smiled , serious .sx " I know you want to flux again .sx ... .sx I looked at her , guarded .sx She had it wrong , but only just .sx So I said , " How .sx ..? " .sx She grinned at me .sx " I experienced your show good , Abe .sx Your need was in there .sx Those fools might not have read it , but I did .sx " .sx Then I saw the teflon protuberance at the base of her skull .sx I lifted a tress of hair , fingered sockets worn smooth through use .sx " Who are you ?sx " I whispered .sx " I'm just another German-Turk from Dusseldorf , " she shrugged , " with a taste for sick theatrics .sx " .sx I smiled and shook my head .sx " You still don't recognise ?sx How about if I wore a Pierrot suit and a big tear , " she said , " here" .sx " Jo ?sx " .sx " Jodie Schimelmann .sx " .sx I felt a tremor inside .sx This was the kid who'd rocked me with haunting visions of death .sx She was fifteen years-old and she'd stared oblivion in the face and she was still here .sx I'd be ninety in a month and I felt a burning sense of shame at the injustice .sx " I need your help " , she said .sx I shook my head .sx " How can I possibly help you ?sx " .sx So she told me she was dying .sx Until six months ago Jodie worked in the spaceyards at Orly .sx She was a flux-monkey , an engineer whose job it was to crawl inside the exhaust ventricles of Bigships and carry out repairs on the auxiliary burners .sx It was hard work , but she didn't complain ; she lived well and saved enough creds to send home to her mother in Germany .sx Then one check-up she was found to have contracted some complicated virus that had lodged as spores in the flux-vent of a Bigship she had worked on .sx She was given a year to live , paid off and discharged .sx Jodie was rotting inside with some alien analogue of carcinoma that had attacked her marrow , lymph glands and trachea .sx .. It was a miracle she was still alive and active , but she loaded herself with analgesics every day and went on fighting .sx The disease explained her voice , of course , and the fact that she wore a wig .sx Ironic that that which was killing her also gave her the appearance of someone much older , while in her head she had matured as well .sx I said , " Isn't there a cure ?sx " .sx " Yeah , sure there is .sx But a cure costs creds , Abe .sx And not even my pay off was enough .sx " .sx I recalled her words .sx " How can I help you ?sx " .sx " I need creds .sx I want the cure .sx I also want to be beautiful .sx " .sx I laughed .sx Then she realised how funny that was and she laughed too .sx " See that beautiful woman at the bar ?sx " she asked .sx " The one zonked on jugular-juice and out of it .sx " .sx " So ?sx " .sx " So she's dead ugly - honest .sx " .sx " I thought you just said she was beautiful ?sx " .sx Jo smiled .sx " You ever seen her here before ?sx " .sx " She doesn't come in here when I'm on .sx I'd recognise her .sx " .sx " Yeah ?sx Ever noticed an old woman , maybe a hundred and fifty ?sx All bags and wrinkles ?sx It's the same woman .sx She has the latest sub-dermal capillary electro-cosmetics .sx What you see there is a clever light show , a laser display to deceive the eye into beholding beauty .sx I want one .sx " .sx " But you aren't ugly , Jo .sx " .sx " I'm not beautiful .sx " .sx " So you want me to get you the creds to buy this device ?sx " I said .sx I thought I saw her logic .sx She was almost terrified by her physical deterioration as she was by her thought of her death , and she wanted to die looking good .sx She nodded .sx " That and a cure .sx I want to live , and I want looks .sx Think I'm greedy ?sx " .sx I shrugged .sx " Why live a lie ?sx " I asked her , hypocritical .sx " I want both , and you can help me get them .sx " .sx So I asked , " How ?sx " .sx