Читать книгу Not fairy tales - Nadyn Bagout - Страница 3

The lock beeped approvingly at the key-card signal. The door to her parents’ apartment hissed to the side, revealing a long narrow hallway.

Una stepped inside and winced: the mixed smell of fried fish, baked goods, and cheap perfume hit her nose so hard it made her eyes water.

The girl walked lightly across the hallway, stopping on the threshold of the living room on the left.

As she might expect, they were home.

Her father was sprawled out on the shabby brown couch, spreading his flabby body on the greasy cushions, staring at the projection on the holovisor. It was brand-new, the latest model, with gleaming blue sides and a clear picture, but the packaging tape had not been removed yet. It was just another show about some kind of outside intervention. It wasn’t interesting, though…

In the far corner, by the lacquered white truffle decorated with gold monograms and scrolls, her mother sat, enthusiastically sorting out another pile of purchases that had been delivered. Countless vials, jars and tubes of cosmetics piled up on the small tabletop like a fragrant pink mountain. Overlapping blouses and skirts, fur coats and kerchiefs, jackets and lace panties hung on the back of a chair and on a movable coat rack. Against this motley mass the delicate, perhaps even haggard figure of the golden-haired woman was almost invisible. At her feet and around her were also crowded bags and boxes: shoes, dishes, gadgets, and other «fun» junk from the TV store; with any luck a couple of books might be found. And there are wrappers and ribbons, paper, cellophane, pieces of fiber and foam, receipts and labels everywhere.

Una shook her head disapprovingly: how do they manage to litter everything so much in just a couple of days?

«Mom, Dad, hi! You’re all sitting here like owls.»

Mammy turned around briskly on her brightly decorated perch – just like a bird, smiled exaggeratedly and waved her hand.

«Hello, hello, hello!» and then she stared in the mirror again.

The father muttered something under his breath, but didn’t even look at his daughter, continuing to fill his mouth with fish sticks from a deep bowl on his lap.

«You’re sitting there,» the girl continued without embarrassment, «and, by the way, it’s so beautiful outside Treboyn today, you don’t even need breathing apparatus,» she put the mask from hermosuit on the chest of drawers. «Oh, look at that, you can see…»

Behind the long window hole, she could see a wide strip of pale blue sky about six miles to the east, just beyond the first cordon. The ribbon cut through the usual reddish-gray haze and wound all the way to the horizon, merging there with the sea.

Not a single head turned.

With a sigh, Una set to work, rolled out a holder from the pantry, hooked a huge acid-orange garbage bag onto it, and began to clean up. Crumpled packages and half-eaten pieces of food poured into the orange belly.

The lock clicked again.

Through the corridor, without looking into the living room, her sister walked hurriedly, hiding in the kitchen.

Una frowned. Bending down, she picked up another cardboard box, tossed it into the bag, then suddenly froze in thought, glancing suspiciously at the kitchen door. Leaving her work for the moment, she went to look at Poly.

The older girl sat at the table hunched over, her blond hair hiding her bowed face. Thin, motherlike hands shook as she uncorked a jar.

«Hi! Poly, what are you…»

The girl didn’t finish: she came closer and immediately saw what her sister was holding. In the flat round container was a thick greenish-blue gel.

Without a second’s hesitation, Una snatched the jar from her trembling hands and carried it to the garbage bag.

«You won’t eat it again. Never again. We talked about this…»

The response was some kind of inhuman howl or moan. Poly clutched at her sister’s hair as she stepped into the living room.

Una tried to break free, turned around, and stumbled from another jolt. The can flew out of her fingers and hit the wall, spilling its contents all over it. Her sister forgot about the offender, rushing to the spilled puddle. Instinctively stepping back, Una suddenly bumped into something and fell awkwardly, hit the back of the holovisor.

The device wobbled on a thin leg and collapsed; the projector cone extinguished.

Moaning and rubbing her bruises, the girl rose to her feet.

Her father’s beastly roar shook the room.

A shiny bat of blond wood sank on Una’s head.

Her black hair soared, her skull crumpled under the impact and burst: bloody bits of bone scattered in all directions.

The girl collapsed to the floor. Dead gray eyes stared up at the ceiling, glowing with dots of diodes.

The man, no longer paying any attention to her, tossed the bat aside and fiddled with his holovisor. Straightening the base, he flicked the remote. A vague intermittent picture apparently satisfied him. Back at his rookery, the fat man plopped down on it again, froze, almost unblinking, stared at the screen.

Poly giggled against the wall, licking up the slime-like slurry. When she’d finished, she looked around the room with completely glassy eyes, stumbled over her sister’s body, and hiccupped.

The mother only turned around at her direct address, as if she had not heard the preceding noise.

«Ma-a-a!»

Staggering, the girl stood up and walked closer to the corpse. The mother came up too, fluttering her eyes incomprehensibly. Her aged mouth, with its bright lipstick smeared over it, formed into a mannishly surprised «O».

«Where… where we should put her now,» Poly hiccupped again, «lying here… I wanted to take her away… I earned it didn’t I?» she grinned crookedly. «Yes, I did»

«Well done, my daughter, well done,» the mother chirped like a sparrow. «I guess… I guess… I don’t know… Boo, tell me,» she turned to her husband.

He squinted, snorted, scratched his belly, smearing bits of gray-pink brain matter all over his light-colored T-shirt, and waved it off briefly.

The mother sighed, turned away, chewed her lips, then noticed the orange stain.

«Here,» she pointed her finger at the bag, «there’ll be pickers today, really.»

Still swaying, Poly looked back and forth between her sister and the garbage bag, then she mumbled, swallowing the interfering saliva, and nodded.

When they lowered the holder, the two of them shoved the body upside down into the sack, and straightened it: they couldn’t even fit her legs in the bent position. After twisting them this way and that, they looked at each other, shrugged and tied the ties as they were, with a bow on the protruding ankles. Then they took the trash pack out into the corridor, the mother returned to her interrupted rummaging, and the daughter plopped down next to her father, also clinging to the hologram.

About an hour later, the front door opened.

In the outer gallery stood an austere woman in a dark gray jumpsuit. At her knees, like a service

dog, a compact robot-carrier was frozen.

The visitor’s gaze traveled over the huge orange bag. Small feet in high blue sneakers peeking out of its throat could not go unnoticed. The attendant blinked, raised an eyebrow, curled her lips, but almost immediately her face took on its former aloof expression.

The scanner in her hand beeped the report: «90% organic substance».

«Biological garbage. Take it away,» she commanded the robot. «Furnace number 6.»