Metrophage | Page 7

into their lab from the roof of a Catholic mission across the street. The explosion literally ripped the roof off the ether-filled building. The fireball boiled down onto many of the adjoining buildings, igniting them, too.
Besides the Los Santos Atomicos, at least a dozen other people, mainly junkies and prostitutes, died in the fires that engulfed the grimy neighborhood. And Easy Money moved up a rung in the hierarchy of the movers and shakers in their little world. Looking back, none of it had seemed important to Jonny at the time. When he heard of the deaths it seemed somehow normal. Just one more senseless act in the long series of senseless acts that made up their lives. However, Raquin's death had moved events from the abstract into a personal affront. He knew Raquin. And he knew Easy had killed him. Jonny would finish Easy Money simply because nobody else would and because the little prick deserved it.
Jonny slowed his breathing, counted each intake of breath, centering himself as his roshi had taught him. Visions of horned, tattooed Easy swam before him as he hunted for that savage part of himself he had sought before whenever he had to kill.
But the passion was gone, seemed pointless now. The speed had been cut with something unpleasant. It was wearing off already, leaving him feeling numb and stupid. Jonny gulped down the rest of his beer and tried to get into the buzz from the liquor.
He wondered if perhaps he had figured things wrong. If the smuggler lords really were after Easy maybe he was not needed, after all. There was always work to do, money to be made. He had to establish a new connection. Something bothered Jonny, though. He could not figure out who, besides the Committee, would be looking for him. Had he trod on someone's toes in the last few days looking for Easy? He could not remember.
The bar seemed to tip slightly as Jonny downed his second Asahi and gin. When he wiped a hand across his brow it came away cool and covered in sweat. He left the bar, pushing carelessly through a tight knot of nervous teenagers from the Valley made up to look like they had grafts and implants. Near the restroom, a Zombie Analytic flashed Jonny in quick succession: Marilyn Monroe, Jim Morrison and Aoki Vega. He ignored her.
Inside the restroom, Jonny splashed rusty water onto his face. The room stank of human waste, and the paper towel dispenser was empty. On the floor he found half a copy of Twilight of the Gods". The toilet was full of Nietzsche. Jonny dried his hands with the few remaining pages. The water made him feel a little better. However, the come down from the speed had left him jumpy and nervous.
When Jonny left the restroom, a hand clamped on his arm.
"Jonny, how's it going?" asked a short man that Jonny did not recognize. The man's smile was wide and toothy, intended to give the impression that he was a very dangerous character. He wore shades whose lenses were dichromatic holograms depicting some cavern. Where his eyes should have been were twin bottomless pits.
"That's a good way to lose some teeth or an eye," Jonny said evenly.
The little man's smile faded only slightly. He relaxed his grip on Jonny's arm, but did not release him.
"Sorry Jonny," he said. Look, "could I buy you a drink or something?"
"No."
Jonny shook off the little man's grip and headed back to the bar to get drunk. But again, strong fingers caught him.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" the little man asked. "Let's talk. I've got a deal for you."
Jonny jammed his elbow into the little man's midsection, spun and pressed the barrel of the Futukoro into the man's throat.
"If you ever grab me again, I will kill you. Do you understand that?" Jonny whispered.
The little man released Jonny's arm and stepped back, his hands held in front of his chest, palms out. "It's cool," the little man said giddily. "It's cool."
Jonny pushed the man away roughly and left him chattering to himself. He was sweating again. Jonny went back to the bar and drank cheap fishy-tasting Japanese vodka, thinking as he drank, about how vile it was and how he wished he could afford the good stuff. He put the little man out of his mind. Jonny wondered if he should call Sumi, but that seemed like a bad idea. She would ask questions he did not want to answer. Eventually, his thoughts drifted to Raquin. Jonny wondered what it was like to burn to death. He remembered that someone had once told him that you would not feel anything, that the fire would consume all the oxygen and you would smother before you ever felt the