* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * SEX, LIES, AND NECROMANCY by Daniel Parsons and Brandi Weed What fresh hell is this? -- Dorothy Parker * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Who are you, and why have you brought us here?" Angel asked. No. 2 smiled a tight, thin smile. "Now, now. That would be telling. Please feel free to have a look around your new home away from home. You may go wherever you like, so long as it is not into any of the proscribed areas." "Where are we?" Janie asked. "In the village. It is a village, like any number of villages, such as might be found anywhere in the world." "Look, let us decide about that," Ardrin said. "Now where the fuck is this village?" "It is right here, of course. Also, do not travel beyond the village borders, which have been clearly marked for your convenience." Janie scowled. "Right neighborly of you. So where are the armed guards and German Shepherds?" "You need not worry about armed guards, no. 12. This is an enlightened community, with natural peace and harmony among all the constituents. If you'll look around, you'll see no police force of any kind, for none is needed. There is no violence, no exploitation of animals in any form, and only the barest minimum of government." No. 2 smiled again. "Even my function is solely administrative, and carries no power whatsoever in village affairs." "Village affairs." Angel's eyes narrowed. "Is that to imply there is a governing body of some sort?" "Of course. The village council, democratically elected by the residents of your village, convenes every morning. You should attend. I am sure the equitable consideration of all cultural viewpoints presented will prove quite refreshing." "I don't care about your collection of puppets. Who brought us here?" "Number 11, there is no need for these hostile expressions." Number 2's expression was unchanged, remaining coolly serene. "You are here, and all that really matters is that we all work together, in mutual respect, to insure that your residency will be as pleasant as it is long." Ardrin rolled his eyes. "We're wasting our time. Let's bail." "No." The rain had stopped now. Angel strode up to no. 2 and stared right into his face. "I want answers, and I want them right now. Who are you working for?" No. 2 seemed amused. "I am hard at work, and entirely for your benefit. Everything done in my official capacity is carried out in accordance with the will and wishes of the village residents." "Fuck it." Janie wandered across the yard to a chess lawn, made of differently colored cobblestones embedded in grass. "That's no answer!" Angel insisted. "Questions are a burden to others, and answers are a prison for oneself." Paul and Ardrin looked at each other, then ambled over to the chess lawn. Janie had climbed up into a high chair on one side of the board, and was staring out over the play field. "Either of you guys know how to play chess?" "I know 'pawn to king's 4' but that's about it." Paul said. "And in Battle Chess, my favorite piece is the king. Especially when he shoots the ninja bishop." "What?" "It's a computer version of chess, where all the pieces are animated people. It's pretty funny." Paul looked over the board. "But they probably play with real people around here." "Probably, judging by the size. Say, did either of you see this 2 guy's eyebrows?" Ardrin raised one of his. "Uh, no." Janie stared across the yard, where Angel was still arguing with the almost-unresponsive no. 2. "Do you think he has any?" "I wouldn't doubt it. I mean," Paul reached into a pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He tucked it into his hand, snapped his fingers, and opened his hand. It was empty. "... just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there." "Hey, very clever," Janie said. "Is that your hobby?" "I used to work at kid's parties. It's also a good cover when I'm in the field." "Kid's parties, eh? Like John Wayne Gacy?" Paul blinked. "Ah-hah. No, I could never find a clown suit that fit me right." Janie scrambled down from the chair. "Here comes Angel." Ardrin smirked. "Think her vocal cords gave out?" "Not in my lifetime," Paul opined. Ardrin looked at Paul. "How would you know?" "I've had a conversation with her." "Oh." Angel finally stomped over. "That man is infuriating. And I refuse to call him number 2." "So, did you get anything out of him?" "Not a thing." "Did you at least see his eyes?" "What?" "His eyes. Why's he wearing dark glasses on a cloudy day?" Angel blinked in bewilderment. "Janie, why does it matter?" "I don't know. Maybe it was a pathetic attempt to intimidate us. I think maybe he's got alopecia. He doesn't seem to have eyebrows; maybe he doesn't have eyelashes, either." "Janie, why do you *care*?" "Oh, I don't really. I just wondered was all. He's one strange- looking chap for sure. Looks a little like Max Schreck." Angel decided that a response was ultimately pointless. Now that the rain had stopped, people were coming out. Ardrin rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Whatever. I'm gonna go look around." "Shouldn't we stick together?" Angel asked. "I don't think they're gonna snatch us while we're alone all over again," Paul said. "I did not ask you." Angel stared at Paul. "What are you doing in here, anyway?" Paul stared back, visible annoyance beginning to grow. "Lady, you don't even know why YOU'RE in here. But, I think it's fairly obvious that they aren't going to hurt us, yet." "And what leads you to that assumption?" "Angel," Ardrin sighed, "if they wanted to hurt us, we would've woken up strapped to the beds." "If they were going to do anything, they would have done it." "All right, all right, I see your point. Splitting up should be safe, and we can find more information that way. Ardrin, why don't you check out things in that direction, I'll go this way, and Janie can look over there." "Right. See ya." Ardrin wandered towards a small hand-cart with a sign that said 'Tally Ho' on it. "Right, the beach it is." Janie ambled off. After watching the three disperse, Paul chewed his lip for a moment, before starting down a path that led back, past their apartments, and into the wooded hills beyond. After leaving the park-like lawn, Angel entered what appeared to be a sort of central square, judging the size of the buildings. There was the General Store, a few cottages, a large building with a green dome for a roof, and a watchtower which looked to be the tallest building in the village. Speakers played music, a sprightly, martial tune with lots of trumpets. Beside the green-domed building was a small kiosk, with a map and a sign: Information. Congratulating herself on having found something so quick, though fully aware that any information offered to her would be worthless, Angel walked up the information booth. The black woman inside smiled in greeting as she approached. She was wearing a brightly-colored wrap-around dress of a flattering cut, spangly sunglasses, and a button with a pennyfarthing bicycle and a number: 99. "Good afternoon, miss. I would like some information." "Well, madam, that is exactly what I am here for." She had a noticeable but mild accent which sounded vaguely African. "Thank you. What is your name?" "Oh, you can call me 99. I have a friend who likes to call me 9'er, which you can if you like." "No. Not a number. Your name. My name, for instance, is Angel Braithe. I am from England." "You're new here, aren't you, no. 11?" "I am not no. 11. Please call me Angel. Now, where is the village, please?" No. 99 laughed. "Whatever will please you, no. 11. Village maps are available here. We have this small one, in black and white, for one unit, or the larger one in color-- " "No, that's not it at all. I want to know where in the world the village is. In what country." With an indulgent smile, no. 99 handed Angel one of the black and white maps. "There is no real need to concern yourself with that right now. Here, why don't I give you a copy of the map, and you can look around. And please, do not hesitate to return with any questions you might have." Angel sighed. "Very well, then. I can go anywhere on the map?" "Feel free." Ardrin walked across the lawn to a large building with a high, peaked red roof. The cart that said 'Tally Ho' was beside it, with a dark-haired woman dressed in a bright yellow-and-green shirt. Her button said, '178'. "Hi there." "Hello, no. 10. Would you be liking a copy?" After looking down to confirm that no, he was not wearing a button with a number on it, Ardrin shrugged. "Copy of what?" "Oh, you're new around here, aren't you? A copy of the 'Tally Ho'. It's our own newspaper." "Sure. How much?" "Ordinarily, 2 units, but seeing as it's your first, it's free." She pressed a button inside the booth, and after a few seconds, a tabloid-sized broadsheet silently rolled out of a slot. "Here you are. Oh, look! Your picture's right on the front! You lucky devil." With a smile, she handed it over to Ardrin. The paper was still warm, and looked like it was done on a laser printer. The paper was high-grade white paper rather than newsprint. But the printout was faster than any printer he'd seen, especially since the pictures were in color, as was the big 'Tally Ho' logo up top. "Thanks." Ardrin tried to look the thing over, but some loud music from a speaker over the booth made it hard to concentrate. "Do they ever shut the music off?" "Certainly! At lights out." "So there's a curfew, huh?" No. 178 looked alarmed. "Oh, goodness, no! We all should be in bed by 11:00, for everyone's good. They're only trying to do what's best for all of us." "Who's 'they'?" "Them. They..." No. 178 looked away and retreated behind the cart. "Nothing. It's nothing." Ardrin stared at her, watching her twitch as she tried to avoid his gaze. He shoved the cart out of the way, and leaned down to look in her face. "Who. Is. 'They'?" "I've said too much. Please stop." "I'm not gonna stop until you tell me who the fuck 'they' are." "I don't know anything! Please, please, just leave me alone!" "What's going on here?" Ardrin looked up. A pudgy old man, with dark skin and a '144' button, was staring at them. He tried to grin. "It's nothing. I just wanted to ask her about a printing problem on this thing." "No, there has never been a printing problem ever!" 178 spat out. "Oh. I guess I was wrong. See ya." Ardrin straightened his jacket, and tried to saunter off nonchalantly. Daniel Parsons Brandi Weed Questions or comments to dparsons@netcom.com Available for ftp from ftp.cs.pdx.edu, in /pub/frp/stories/SLN