Ahab of Dystopia
One
There was a full white Luna out tonight, and it looked like a real bright one, too, even through all this pollution and other nasty stuff in the air.
It helped me viddy just about everything within a one-mile radius—the black water in front of me; the dark, decaying buildings behind me and around me; the rookerfuls of newspaper, tin cans, paper bags, and other trash blowing around; the fires of a pack of grahzny beggars in the distance; even the occasional auto coming and going across the otherwise empty street. Everything else was just artificial and man-made, like those street lamps on the corner or that stop light shining red-green-yellow-red in the distance. It was just me out here so far, but I expected the others would arrive at our usual meeting spot soon enough, and me right along behind 'em. Two years and six months running, and none of 'em had ever been late by a single minute.
I could also viddy the moon really good not just once, but twice, because as I stood in this alley by the marina, I could viddy it in the sky and in the water at the same time. It was almost as though there were a pair of glazzies on the horizon where I stood, watching my every move and the movements of all that lived here. Those glazzies could watch all they liked, though, because that was all they could do. Lucky for me, neither the Luna in the sky nor the one in the water could ever tell anyone what I decided to do tonight. If I went on being lucky, none of my nightly victims would find out until long after it happened, after which they could go complain to the rozzes and the gazetta and all that cal.
I viddied a lot of things every nochy, but I didn't slooshy much, since it was just me and a few rookerfuls of other Nadsats out here. Right now, it was just the sounds of my own breathing and the slight rush of the water to keep myself company. I had no father to try and talk me into coming back home, and my dear old Em was busy spatting soundly back around the middle floors after a long day at the diner and a short visit from three vecks. I could go back inside and then hang out by the windowsill of my malenky apartment as long as I wanted to, enjoy some of this cold air, of course, and slooshy to that water as much as I liked. I could also like sneak out onto the railing and bug the kids of the other whores that hang out here from time to time for a good smeck. I just didn't think I wanted to do that tonight. I might have a few important visits of my own to make instead.
First off, I had to get out of this flatblock of a neighborhood, if a lewdie could even call it that any more. It was a wonder no State inspector slapped a 'Condemned' sign on this place yet, what with the cracking foundations, leaky walls, and all that cal. I would have to leave as careful as I can, though not entirely because of home sweet home's decay. I would have to sneak out all quiet-like because there was no telling who else was waiting up alongside me, hoping to start a bitva later. I liked a fight as much as the next malchick, of course…just not yet, because the time wasn't right to start or finish it. That could wait till later. Right now, I would sneak out of this apartment, take the staircase, go straight to the station, travel the Underground, and finally say no more. Good thing I hung onto some cutter from my last night out, otherwise I'd have to gooly to the next part of this city all by myself. Instead, the train would do well enough for me, as it was a very long way from here to there.
Along the way, as I headed into the big pit under the streets, I came across this malenky bit of advertising with a happy young devotchka telling me she would be mine all mine if I got myself a pack of Lucky Strikes. I pulled a black marker out of my carman and made her tell the world that she like cheated on her boyfriend with five other malchicks. That would make any other person who viddied this think twice before they took up smoking. It was only after I turned away and stepped onto the train that I remembered her eemya. Lydia. Lydia the model, Lydia the calendar girl, Lydia who got into a pretty painted picture and wound up on the wall of a thousand malchicks' bedrooms. Too bad she was in that poster and not here in real life, otherwise I would have got her against that wall a thousand razzes whether she wanted it or not, and all on my oddy knocky, too.
It was a long ride from here to the junkyard, but for one such as myself, it was worth it. Back home, I was just one slut's firstborn, slave to the heavy lifting at the restaurant, broke nine times out of ten, and easy pickings for whatever Em's John wanted to do to me. In this station, I could take the midnight train on time, itty off with my own kind, and be nobody else. And out there, I was at the head of my own malenky brigade, making sure that we, like the trains, always arrived and exited on time. There were six of us as of late, well over the limit for a usual gang, but necessary 'cause we knew of at least one gruppa that liked to get in our way and sneak into our borders for a smeck and a lashing. There were two runaways from the local sanatorium, Toby and Charlie, who might have stayed locked away for bizarre behavior at skolliwoll if one of the nurses hadn't carelessly left a back door open one night. When Charlie wasn't grilling me about the best way to tolchock a veck unconscious or the best weapon to use in a drat, he'd be the number-one to taste whatever firegold or wine we came across in our nightly wanderings to make sure it was fresh and strong enough to share with the rest of us.
Toby neither talked nor smecked that much, but he was the perfect kid to go explore a space or building to assure no rozzes were hiding nearby. If the mesto was clear, he'd do fine in whatever we decided to do next. If not, he'd be twitchy and shifty until we found a better place to filly about. All was sparkling clear and quiet for now, though, for he gave me a tip of the shlapa as soon as I shoved my way through the rusty gate. Already I could hear 'The Immigrant Song' by Led Zeppelin blaring from Leo's pocket radio, as well as the zvooks of like shouting, cheering, and fisties hitting litsos. Some of 'em must have gotten restless, I thought, drawing closer to where my gang waited for me. I wasn't poogly or worried about what they'd say to me later, though. Good mood or bad, at the end of the day, we were pretty much all the same—thieves, runaways, whoresons, fighters, rapists, and the worst of the worst. Good mood or bad, as soon as we headed out into the empty streets and started our nightly rounds, I knew they'd all feel better.
To that end, I left Toby on his oddy-knocky to watch a malenky while longer so that I could go plan tonight's events. Further past the gate and beside the skeleton of an old Ford, I saw Nick and Leo in the middle of a fistfight while Charlie and Joel looked on, either cheering together or jeering separately with each move the other two made. That might have been all fun and games for them, but if they used up all their energy right now, all they'd want to do later on would be to itty back home and spat. That was something I just couldn't have happen, especially since I had all my wits and energy about me, as well as wanting to use 'em.
"Attention!"
And so, after I'd pulled out my nozh and clanged it against the old Ford's hood to make them wake up, I let 'em all know what was going on so that none of 'em would mess up later.
"You all got five minootas 'til we head out, my old droogs. Anybody not ready by then has to head home and miss all the fun. Meet me at the gate."
As I turned myself around and headed back to where Toby kept watch, I heard the scuff of leather against the ground, the clatter of weapons being gathered up, and the drones and mumbles of my friends' voices as they felt all disappointed over not finding a satisfying end to their malenky battle. They wouldn't have to complain long, if we got lucky tonight and found ourselves some bigger targets than one another. Might even get the chance to slug it out with them, that is, if they're not too poogly to give us all a try at once. Until then, we'd have to save some of our combined strength just in case they decided to appear.
"What's the plan tonight, Billyboy?" Leo asked me, slinking alongside me like the beast of his eemya.
"The usual," I said, motioning for Toby to leave his post and join the rest of us as we passed through the gate. Another shlapa tip from him, and he'd entered our malenky group of criminals as surely as one lone wolf rejoined its pack. Good thing, too, 'cause I'd need all five of 'em where I was headed tonight. About six or seven blocks away, in a less grahzny part of the city, I'd heard that some well-to-do lewdies were hosting a party in some fancy meeting spot. When folks like them got together, they'd just about always have some kind of wine, beer, or other alcohol lying around to lift their spirits. And if there were horrorshow drinks to be had, then they wouldn't mind a few malchicks sharing in the celebration, now, would they?
That was some distance away from where we walked, so naturally, we'd need something to do in the meantime. We didn't have to smot long or far, though, because some shoot had driven himself out into the middle of an intersection whilst govoreeting away on his mobile. Not only that, but he'd just about stopped before a row of garbage cans full of starry pipes and other stuff, all thanks to the State pick-up service not grabbing 'em before sunrise. It was a very baddiwad idea, of course, that a moodge should not pay attention and cause a potential road hazard the way he did. It was time for a lesson to be taught.
"You viddy those garbage cans and pipes over there, old droogs?" I asked, taking a stick of Blammo gum out of my pocket and stuffing it into my rot.
"They'll do. Keep quiet now, we don't want 'im pulling away before we have our fun, do we?"
Our next set of moves went real smooth, much like the pistons in an engine or the roar of a motor. While Leo, Toby, and the other three started sneaking up on the car from behind, I waited on the sidewalk for the chatter inside to viddy them and try to inch his machine forward. After a quick peek into the rearview where he saw 'em coming, lo and behold, he goes and moves the gas down a malenky bit to try and get to a safer place where he could go on govoreeting and smecking and everything else. Unfortunately for him, that was when I stepped out into the street in front of his auto, and with a quick swing of one of those pipes, I gave the bratchny a good dent of broken glass and a shock to the old system.
It took five seconds for him to come out of that old tin can, try like giving me a piece of his rasoodock, and press the emergency numbers all at once; only to viddy my droogs jump up about five more seconds later and, with their own pipes in hand, smash his car windows one by one, smecking and jeering as they went merrily along. That was when the veck inside decided it would be better to run for cover, as his poor bolshy machine was now a busted-up mess and we were running out of windows to break. I didn't stop there, though. I got to trip him up and smash the malenky mobile for good measure, and boohoohoo, that man didn't have anyone to chatter at no more. He took off at a run to go call for help or whatever lewdies might be around at this hour to give him a ride. I didn't feel like ittying off after him, though, cause we'd already had all the fun we wanted to have with himself and his machines, however bolshy or malenky they might be. There were other, bigger places to take a peek at tonight, and we weren't gonna waste any time getting ourselves there.