Aretha signalled for silence from her two companions as she moved cautiously forwards. Every muscle was tensed, knife poised ready to strike, her whole being concentrating on preparing to meet any attack.
The three had almost reached the goal of their journey, the Bohemian underground lair, and were now waiting to be cleared for entry. Security, although not hi-tech, was as tight as it could possibly be. Any unannounced visitors were liable to find themselves with a knife at their throats, if they were lucky enough to have an alert guard with very good reflexes who didn't just stick it straight through them.
Aretha carefully tapped out a rhythm on what looked like a wall, but was actually a resonating metal partition through to the other side. After a few seconds it was answered by a similar one, which she, in turn, replied to with three quiet knocks and one loud. Slowly, the wall swung open and revealed a very strange sight, to one not expecting it. The roughly carved tunnel they were in gave way to a large, bright, apparently empty room. As per the Bohemian's instructions, Delilah hung back, out of sight. Two or three heavily armed people - obviously guards - entered the room. The Ga Ga girl shrunk further into the shadows. Those knives looked... sharp. Businesslike. From the way they were being held, it didn't look like their owners were shy about using them, either.
'Any trouble?' a fairly tall man with dark blonde dreadlocks asked. For some reason, his jeans were held up only by a belt, the fly kept open to display bright red Y-fronts.
'Nearly. There were police approaching, but they weren't after us.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yes.' A second man came forwards. Delilah couldn't help gawping at him - he was wearing a gold - and very obviously designed for a woman - corset. His hair stood straight up on end, and he seemed to emenate anarchy. He had a thick accent she couldn't place, but seemed vaguely British.
'Did ye manage tae get anything?'
'No Prince, we couldn't get anything from the list - we didn't have time.' Aretha said apologetically. 'But we did manage to get something that will make someone very happy.' She turned back to the shadows, where Delilah was still hiding. 'C'mon out. It's ok, they won't touch you - you're with me.'
Big Macca readjusted his stance to look slightly more menacing. So Aretha had found a new convert, then. Shouldn't be anything to worry about, she was very careful about who she let join, even more than everyone else. Still, it never hurt to impress upon newbies the fact that he was the leader, in charge, in control of everything... well, nominally, anyway. People didn't seem to feel the need to do what he told them very often, but then again he hardly ever bossed anyone around anyway. They respected him, he respected them, so it was all good.
Delilah swallowed and cautiously stepped forward into the light. She wasn't at all sure about coming down there at all, now - she hadn't considered what might be waiting for her at the other end of the journey, only that she had to get away from the police. The sight of those knives had reminded her of some news bulletins from the last few weeks, briefly describing the murders of some anonymous kids her age by what were broadly referred to as 'rebels'. They hadn't bothered her at all before, they weren't relevant to her. Now she realised that that was exactly what these 'Bohemians' were - rebels. But there was no way back.
He was still trying to decide whether crossing his arms over his chest would make him look impressive or just silly when he had a very strange experience. Out from behind the heavy, circular metal door Aretha and Cliff had returned through seemed to emerge one of his lovers. But she was dressed as a Ga Ga girl, and blonde. And filthy. His arms dropped slowly from an indecisive position across his abdomen as his mouth hung open. Both he and Britney stepped forwards, hardly believing what they were seeing.
'So whaddya think of this?' Cliff grinned. Big Macca reached to Delilah's face, gently turning her head to one side, then the other.
'Jesus fucking Christ.' he breathed softly, still inspecting her face. She flinched back, but let him, not knowing what else she could possibly do. 'Someone get Seal. This is unbelievable.' The man known as Prince went off to do so.
''K, Big Macca, Brit, this is-'
'Delilah.' the hitherto silent black man filled in. 'Yes.'
'So we meet at last.' Big Macca grinned. 'I've heard a lot about you.'
Prince found her at the end of one of the main halls, leafing through some of the texts on the sunk half of the floor. She was agitated. She didn't know exactly what it was she was looking for, but it was something she'd found before, years ago. And it was important.
Looking at her, no-one would guess that she was halfway through her fourth decade, especially for a woman with no access to plastic surgery. Her skin was smooth, muscles toned from actual use, there wasn't the faintest hint of grey in her thick brown hair. That in itself was unusual. If the follicles were genetically altered, she should have been blonde. All women chose blonde, according to the statistics.
'Hey Seal, babe.'
'I told you before Prince,' she didn't quite snarl, not looking up, 'hitch a hike. I'm not in the mood.'
'Ah've got something to show ye.' he jumped down onto the lower level with her, forcing her to acknowlege him. She glanced up briefly to make eye contact, then continued sifting through the relics as she replied.
'I've seen it before, and I don't want to see it again any time soon but thank you for the offer anyway.'
'Woman, ye've got a one-track mind.' he leered.
'Huh. You can talk.'
'Ah wasnae talkin' aboot that. Big Macca wants tae see ya.' That made her look up.'Oh, he does, does he?' She replied shortly, slightly surprised, and put down the wads of paper from either hand in designated piles which would, no doubt, have been rearranged by the time she got back. She stood and climbed up onto the platform with one step, then waited for him to clamber up after her on his considerably shorter legs. 'I'm surprised he remembers who I am.' she muttered, following the stocky Scotsman up to the entrance. 'It had better be important.'
'Oh, aye.' he said, an amused spark in his eyes. 'It is.'
'What?' Delilah looked around, confused. She'd definitely never met any of these people before, and didn't think it was at all likely that they would be associates of her friends or teachers. A wave of fear washed over her. Could they be secret police agents? No, that didn't make sense. Why would they go to all the trouble of luring her down here when they had been so close up on the surface? It didn't make sense.
'Don't worry.' Big Macca laughed 'We're not Globalsoft minions or anything like that. Look, there's nothing to worry about - the reason we know who you are is -' he cut off abruptly and tilted his head to listen behind him. From at least twenty metres away and below, he could hear a voice, raised slightly in pitch and volume in annoyance. No words were distinguishable when a grin slowly spread across his face, marking the progress of a Thought*. By the time everyone could hear
'Well I don't see why it's so important he sees me NOW and get your hands OFF...' he had strolled over to the doorway it was coming from, planting his feet wide apart and his left hand as high up the frame as he could, right resting on his hip, effectively blocking sight of the room from anyone coming up the stairs. The first Delilah saw of Seal was her hair and feathers, showing behind the silhouette of Big Macca's head, and befishnetted arms planted firmly on hips.
'Lovely to see you my darling, as ever.' Big Macca oozed charm.
'Alright, what do you want?' Seal tried to keep her voice harsh and irritated, but couldn't when he was giving her that look. Completely against her will, it softened. 'What did you need to show me? If it's the cooking rota, I'm sorry, ok? I was looking for something really important, I completely lost track of time and Geo covered for me anyway-'
'Nuh-uh.' Big Macca held one finger to her lips. 'I think it's something you'll be very pleased to see.' He seemed to her to move in slow motion as he stepped to the side and pushed her forwards with one hand in the small of her back. She didn't notice his hand slide down and squeeze her buttock when she saw what was in front of her. A Gaga Girl. A Teen Queen. Blonde hair, dirty, slightly torn miniskirt and top, hair breaking free from its constraints. A girl who had obviously run, climbed and crawled to get there. A girl who had run away from the world she knew. Delilah.
The woman revealed to Delilah seemed incredibly tall, even to her. It wasn't long before she realised that the effect was created by the 4-inch soled boots she was wearing and the almost sphere created by her wild, frizzy brown hair, semi-controlled only by a black headband. The untamed masses rested on a bed of fine red and black feathers attatched to a harness-like set of leather straps. Her arms were covered in converted fishnet tights which were mostly intact, but slashed to rags across her body and so were covered with a red strappy top, also slashed up and with black strips sewn across it. She was wearing a belt consisting of three lines of square studs tight-packed on black leather, and she wore a pair of black leather chaps with black knickers instead of more conventional trousers. They looked perfectly normal until she moved and displayed the strip of skin between the edges of the fabrics. But it wasn't the outfit that mesmerised Delilah. It was the face.
Looking back on the past few days, it was hard for Delilah to fully comprehend all that had happened. She had been persecuted, betrayed, hunted and yet given a last reprieve by her traitor. She'd found out for certain what she'd always suspected all along - that she didn't quite fit in. She didn't even really know what she'd done wrong. In a few short hours her world had shattered and fallen apart. But then, suddenly, it pulled itself back together again.
'Mum?' the whisper barely escaped her lips before she tried to bite it back, embarrassed. The Waki-hol unit wouldn't work at this depth - it, like most other high-power appliances, required far more energy than could possibly be carried around in it and consequently had a remote power source on the surface. There was no way her holographic parent could be down there. This woman was flesh and blood, real, and alive. But she looked identical to the hologramme. Realisation greeted Delilah's brain circuits with a wave, then knocked loudly on the door, and finally, growing tired of being ignored, slapped her with a metaphorical pair of stale kippers.
'You - you're real!' she took one shaky step forwards.
'Delilah...' Seal couldn't take her eyes off her. 'You made it! Oh, I always knew you would my darling -' She cut off abruptly as she ran the short distance to her daughter and threw her arms around her, bursting into overjoyed tears. Delilah returned them. All the stress of the past few days combined with the shock of coming face to face with a woman she thought had been dead for the last three years meant that she couldn't hold them back. She clung to her as if she'd never let go. She didn't want to let go, not this time.
'How?' The sob was barely discernable, being effectively muffled by Seal's hair. 'How is it possible? You're dead, they said you died...'
'Is that what they told you?' Seal pulled away to be able to look straight at Delilah, holding her at arms length. 'Is that what those bastards told you?' Delilah choked back more tears, hastily explaining
'You - you sent me that email, saying you couldn't pick me up from school, remember? And when I checked my inbox again there was a notice from the police saying you'd been - you'd been killed in a-'
'-A freak accident?' Delilah nodded. She could't quite trust herself not to burst into tears again if she spoke.
'Oh Delilah... I'm so sorry, my darling. There was no way to tell you...' She thought for a while, then explained 'Look, pretty much everyone down here was either killed in some sort of accident, or was murdered by 'rebels', or just plain disappeared. They make up an excuse for everyone.'
'But why didn't you ever try to contact me?'
'I couldn't. Don't you see? I had to disappear. Oh, I wanted to - but if I had, I probably would be dead by now, or as good as.' Suddenly she smiled and laughed, as if she'd just realised that she'd done something remarkably silly. 'You know what?' she said cheerily.
'What?' Delilah asked, confused at this sudden change of mood.
'You've grown.'
'The girl would serve as an excellent example of how even the most ordinary kid can be tricked and dragged into the underworld almost irretrievably if we get her back.' Ajax tried to keep his agitation to a minimum. The propaganda division had to give him the funding to find Delilah. They had to.
'We appreciate the value of your proposition, Inspector, but there are some points we need to establish...'
If you even think of refusing me, cunt, I'll pull your plug so fast you won't even have time to say goodbye. the hologramme in front of him continued.
'What, for instance, are our chances of success? An operation of this scale is expensive to mount, as you know well, inspector.'
'Of course it will succeed! I will not stop until I have the bitchgirl!' Ajax said, a little too quickly. 'And...' he continued, attemping to cover his tracks. His minor emotional outburst had not gone unnoticed, though.
'I'm sure that your dedication to the task in hand will play well on the public.' the hologramme interrupted cooly.
'She has an ID and locator chip. Now that the electrical storms have dissipated, my officers can continue to search the last area she was recorded in-'
'But by your own admission, inspector, you do not know where the girl is.' A file was called up on Ajax's monitor, one line of the report highlighted. 'As your human officer reported-' there was the slightest hint of disdain on the mention of the minion's race '- and I quote, 'She simply disappeared into the ground'.'
'I will find her.' Ajax replied grimly. She will be mine.
'So what have you been doing all this time? Have you really been here for three years? How do you survive?'
'One question at a time, sweetie!'
'I haven't seen you since I was fourteen, loads of stuff's happened and you've changed so much...' Delilah prattled happily at her mother in a way she hadn't done since she was about nine or ten as the small party took her down to the main body of the Heartbreak. Seal didn't particularly listen. This was it. This was what she had been waiting for. Her little girl had come home at last, and that was all that mattered.
'So anyway, after listening to it for the last 17 and a half years, I thought "Hey, it can't be THAT hard, I'll try it myself", and it sort of blew up in my face and I guess that's what got me here so it turned out for the best really...' Delilah was so caught up in recounting her story to the small group(not particularly noticing, or caring, whether or not they were listening) that she didn't notice the underwear guy pulling her mother to one side, or that he was speaking to her in very hushed tones.
'Seal, baby, you know I hate to piss on your parade, but we have to make sure the chick's safe.'
'Of course she's safe! Paul, this is my daughter we're talking about-'
'We can't be sure of that just yet. We don't know how far they've come.'
'You don't understand, I'm her mother - I would know if it wasn't her.'
'I know that, I know that, but - well - she could have been sent here.' Seal stopped and turned to him.
'You can't really think that, can you?'
'Any new arrival is a potential threat, you know that. Even her.' The thought had, in fact, occurred to her, but she'd repressed it and hoped that the small fact would go unnoticed by everyone else.
'We have to check her out.' She looked deflated, suddenly needing to lean against the wall for support.
'She can't be.' her voice went very quiet. 'Oh Paul, I just don't think I could take it if my little girl was a spy.'
'Hey, babe, it'll be alright.' Big Macca wrapped his arms around her shoulders comfortingly, as he tried to think of something to say to go with the gesture. 'Chances of her being who she says she is... well, they're pretty high, aren't they? I mean, what with you having had all these visions and stuff.'
'Dreams, Big Macca. Just dreams, but they came true.'
'Well, the commissioner's got back to me, and he agrees with your choice of figurehead for the adolescant re-claim programme.' Ajax's relief was practically tangible. 'Off the record, I sincerely hope that you don't screw this up.'
'That's a very sentient attitude, 3335/98752.' the hologramme shrugged.
'Merely self-preserving. If you destroy yourself, you have the means and motivation to do the same to me.'
'Logical. How much have I got to find her?'
'Whatever you need.' he replied drily. 'He's looked her up, and is very taken with her. Almost as much as you, I would say.'
'I have absolutely no idea what you could possibly be talking about.' Ajax said blandly. 'I am interested purely in the bitchgirl's welfare.'
'I had no intention of implying anything otherwise.' The cool response threw Ajax off-guard. They sat there, staring at each other for a few moments before the hologramme spoke again.
'Unless you have any further questions, that will be all, Inspector. Please do not hesistate to come to us with any queries that may arise.'
Down in the Heartbreak Hotel, the Bohemians weren't through with their security checks.
'She's chipped.'
'Where?'
'Back of the neck, just about there.' Seal demonstrated on Big Macca.
'Anything else?'
'No, I don't think so.'
'WristWAP.' Britney added helpfully. 'They all had them last time I went up.'
'Yes, of course.'
'We'll have to take that off her.'
Delilah, perched on a hand rail, watched the small huddle with interest. It was an odd concept to her, the idea of people talking about something and not only not wanting it to be overheard, but actively trying to prevent it as well.
'What are they talking about?' she asked the woman who had been left to guard her. She was learning to distinguish individual Bohemians by their clothes, at first glance. This also was new, to a girl who was used to uniform, identikit teenagers who strove to be as similar as possible. This one was wearing mostly red, red trousers, red fishnet top and red bra, breaking the trend with the remains of a grey tail-coat on top. She also - and this would prove very useful for identification later, when she changed - had a pair of what Delilah would later discover were drumsticks, shoved into one pocket. The woman shrugged.
'You, I guess.'
'Oh. Right.' Now that was more understandable. Not talking to people when you were talking about them was perfectly normal. 'Why?'
'Gotta check you're not an android or a hologramme or a spy or anything like that. Can't have you destroying the Heartbreak.' Delilah couldn't quite tell whether or not she was serious. Subtlety was not something she was at all used to.
'The what?' The woman looked at her with a calculating half-smile.
'The Heartbreak.'
'What's that?' Delilah asked, still as puzzled.
'You're in it. The Heartbreak Hotel.'
'Oh, right!' Delilah got it. 'So that's what you call this place. Why would I want to destroy it?'
'You don't know much, do you kid?' This time she spoke with a genuine smile. If only this girl was for real, there was potential here for a great Bohemian. This time Delilah shrugged.
'I'm willing to learn.'
'We're illegal. Everything about us - the way we live, the way we dress, the way we think. Especially the way we think. And our music. It's pretty crude at the moment, but when we find the rhapsody we'll have the power to turn every GaGa kid on the planet away from Globalsoft. That scares them, so they try to eliminate us.'
'But why would they send me? Why not a normal policeman?'
'Delilah babes, do you have any idea how long we've been evading them?' Delilah shook her head. 'Since, like, forever. Since the first formation of Globalsoft, there have been Bohemians. They get more and more desperate to destroy us every time they try, and they've tried a lot. They've sent spies, they've sent hologrammes, they've scoured the wildernesses to find us. They hardly ever find us. And when they do -' she stopped short, considering whether or not it would be wise to tell this girl what happened to spies. It might cause her to bolt, and that would certainly not be good.
'And when they do...?' Delilah prompted her. Madonna sighed at her own thoughtlessness, and continued.
'Let's just say they never get to report back.' The words she embellished with a sharp cutting motion across her throat with one hand. Delilah swallowed and turned visibly paler. She looked over at the group, still discussing her, and picked out her mother. She wouldn't let them kill her, would she? No, of course not. She had come here for their protection, they wouldn't hurt her. All she had to do was prove who she was and she'd be fine.
The circle opened up. Delilah felt apprehension rise in her throat and hoped that they wouldn't ask her to speak. She couldn't.
'K, Delilah, I'm sure you understand that we've got to careful about, like, who we let join us here at the Heartbreak, right?' Big Macca started. She nodded mutely. 'Good, good. Well, thing is, I hope you accept my apologies in advance, right, cos what we're gonna have to do - to ensure our own safety, and yours too, of course, you understand - well, some of it might be a bit painful, and we're gonna have to take away your wristWAP, hope you don't mind, but it's trackable, y'see so it's an unfortunate thing but we can't afford to have it here as it's a danger to our, like, security.' Delilah nodded again, this time managing a quiet spoken affirmation. 'Right. Well, the worst part is that your mother here tells me that you're chipped, and we're gonna have to - well - remove it.'
'Wh-what do you mean?' Her voice returned to her gradually, as it grew clearer that despatching her wasn't on top of their collective agenda. Her mother came forward, gently explaining -
'Darling, you have an ID chip. It's in the back of your skull, just under the skin, and it wouldn't be a problem except that it's a locator chip too - well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. All my friends were doing it.' Delilah nodded in understanding. That made sense.
'So take it out.' she shrugged.
'Ah.' All eyes went to Big Macca, from whom the noise had emitted.
'Ah?'
'Well, y'see, problem is that we kinda... well, we're sort of lacking in the anaesthetic department.' Delilah looked blank.
'We don't have any pain killers.' Madonna translated. 'It's gonna hurt.'
Ajax hummed the latest boyband's hit happily under his breath as he sat down at his console to run a search for his runaway. Disappeared into the ground... he mused. Could he have meant... no, that's not possible. He opened the chip tracking programme, gave it her code and watched as it's graphics displayed something similar to a 20th century radar on his screen. It started picking something up, sifting through the numbers, refining the search. Ajax got up to get himself a cup of coffee while it worked. It beeped. He grinned - it had found her signal. Now all that had to happen was for it to be located... it beeped again, but this time it was more of a 'bleuurgh' than a 'beep'. He sat down to see what had happened, snarled, kicked the computer and hurled his coffee across the room.
The chip had been deactivated.
'So this has been instide my neck all my life?' Delilah cautiously fingered the - rather flatter than it used to be, thanks to Madonna's heel - ID chip that had just been expertly, if rather painfully, removed from under her skin.
'Pretty much, yep. Broadcasting your whereabouts to the police the whole time.'
Delilah examined it a bit closer. 'Why did they bother to put LEDs in it?'
'God knows.' They inspected the chip a bit closer, in thoughtful silence. Big Macca took the opportunity to bring the conversation back round onto topic.
'Yeah, well, this is all very great an' all, but we've got to get on with, y'know, clearing the girl for, like, entry.'
'True, true.' Aretha said gently.
'Right! Well. Ok then. First test, Brit, if you would be so kind...'
'Jumping Jack Flash, it's just a...' Britney started.
There was silence.
There was some more silence.
There was some silence that wasn't strictly silence, as it included some restless shifting and clearing of impatient throats.
Finally, there was something that wasn't silence. Aware that all eyes were on her and that they were waiting for a response, Delilah tried gave the only one that came to her mind.
'Err... pardon?'
Madonna tried to hold in a giggle, but it came out as a snort.
'Well, she ain't the dreamer.'
'Nope.'
'Indeed.'
'The what?'
'Ah. Right.' Big Macca began, slightly uncomfortably. The Dreamer monologue was halfway through his normal speech, and it referred to stuff he'd have said before, and he'd have to say it differently this time, and it was all a bit awkard and he'd have to make it up as he went along and he really wished she'd started at the beginning. 'Well, what we do is try to, like, dig up the past of music and make it play again. Cos, right, once we've got the music again, we'll have the Rhapsody, then -'
'What's this Rhapsody?'
'Oh. Right. Erm. Well, it's basically, like, the effect you get from real live rock, it's this really powerful state of being-'
'Like ecstacy?'
'Well, yeah, but without any kind of drug or anything. Just the music. Right. The Dreamer. Yes. Well, we're doing our best to create this music to bring the Rhapsody on, but we can't do it alone. We believe that, in time, there will arise a man who carries the past within him - a man who can remember. And once he - or she, it could always be a woman, we don't discriminate - comes to us, we will rock. And then Globalsoft won't stand a chance, and we'll all be free again to be ourselves, to have our lives, to make our own music - real music, with real musical instruments.'
'Oh. I see.' This wasn't the awe he was expecting, but he put that down to the fact that she hadn't enjoyed the full benefit of his speech.
'But, yeah, the point is that the Dreamer would, like, recognise what Brit just sung and would respond to it.' She nodded. 'Right. So, on with the tests. Have you ever been to the Heartbreak before?' She shook her head. 'Ok, read the holy texts?'
'The what?'
'Good, good. Know what a Bohemian is?' she shook her head again. 'Ever heard of us before?' she nodded. 'Ok, when?' Delilah cleared her throat.
'My dad told me to find you, after he'd grassed me up to the Secret Police.'
'Oh. Umm, that could be a problem.'
'Nah, we took the chip out.' Madonna reminded him.
'Yeah, true. Right, have you been into hospital recently, Delilah?' she shook her head again. 'Right! Well, that's that then. Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel.'
'Is -' she yawned, and was suddenly aware of quite how long it had been since she had last slept properly. '- that it?'
'Yup, you're cleared.' Madonna said, cheerfully slapping her on the back. Unfortunately, this had the effect of her collapsing in a heap on the floor. 'Bloody hell, when did you last eat?' she asked, hauling her back up to her feet.
'Dunno... yesterday? Last night? Not sure...' Brit came forwards, offering her an arm to lean on that she gladly accepted.
'Bugger that, she needs to sleep.' her mother said authoritively.
'My bed's closest...' Madonna offered.
'Yeah. Come on.'
Delilah was in a daze as they took her down into the main body of the Heartbreak. Here and there she was aware of inquiring faces on fantastic, bizarre bodies, and of the occaisional brief explanation of who she was and what she was doing there. The stairs seemed almost endless to her tired legs, and the sight of Madonna's sleeping bag and various other items of bedding was one of the most welcoming she'd ever seen.
'There now, you just crash there.' Madonna smiled as she heard a muffled 'thanks' from the girl Brit and Seal were depositing on her bed.
'Sleep well, darling.' Seal murmered. 'You're safe now.'
*Big Macca is not really prone to recieving many of these. Fortunately, most of the other Bohemians are, and find subtle ways to introduce them to him that generally result in fairly good leadership.back
The three had almost reached the goal of their journey, the Bohemian underground lair, and were now waiting to be cleared for entry. Security, although not hi-tech, was as tight as it could possibly be. Any unannounced visitors were liable to find themselves with a knife at their throats, if they were lucky enough to have an alert guard with very good reflexes who didn't just stick it straight through them.
Aretha carefully tapped out a rhythm on what looked like a wall, but was actually a resonating metal partition through to the other side. After a few seconds it was answered by a similar one, which she, in turn, replied to with three quiet knocks and one loud. Slowly, the wall swung open and revealed a very strange sight, to one not expecting it. The roughly carved tunnel they were in gave way to a large, bright, apparently empty room. As per the Bohemian's instructions, Delilah hung back, out of sight. Two or three heavily armed people - obviously guards - entered the room. The Ga Ga girl shrunk further into the shadows. Those knives looked... sharp. Businesslike. From the way they were being held, it didn't look like their owners were shy about using them, either.
'Any trouble?' a fairly tall man with dark blonde dreadlocks asked. For some reason, his jeans were held up only by a belt, the fly kept open to display bright red Y-fronts.
'Nearly. There were police approaching, but they weren't after us.'
'Are you sure?'
'Yes.' A second man came forwards. Delilah couldn't help gawping at him - he was wearing a gold - and very obviously designed for a woman - corset. His hair stood straight up on end, and he seemed to emenate anarchy. He had a thick accent she couldn't place, but seemed vaguely British.
'Did ye manage tae get anything?'
'No Prince, we couldn't get anything from the list - we didn't have time.' Aretha said apologetically. 'But we did manage to get something that will make someone very happy.' She turned back to the shadows, where Delilah was still hiding. 'C'mon out. It's ok, they won't touch you - you're with me.'
Big Macca readjusted his stance to look slightly more menacing. So Aretha had found a new convert, then. Shouldn't be anything to worry about, she was very careful about who she let join, even more than everyone else. Still, it never hurt to impress upon newbies the fact that he was the leader, in charge, in control of everything... well, nominally, anyway. People didn't seem to feel the need to do what he told them very often, but then again he hardly ever bossed anyone around anyway. They respected him, he respected them, so it was all good.
Delilah swallowed and cautiously stepped forward into the light. She wasn't at all sure about coming down there at all, now - she hadn't considered what might be waiting for her at the other end of the journey, only that she had to get away from the police. The sight of those knives had reminded her of some news bulletins from the last few weeks, briefly describing the murders of some anonymous kids her age by what were broadly referred to as 'rebels'. They hadn't bothered her at all before, they weren't relevant to her. Now she realised that that was exactly what these 'Bohemians' were - rebels. But there was no way back.
He was still trying to decide whether crossing his arms over his chest would make him look impressive or just silly when he had a very strange experience. Out from behind the heavy, circular metal door Aretha and Cliff had returned through seemed to emerge one of his lovers. But she was dressed as a Ga Ga girl, and blonde. And filthy. His arms dropped slowly from an indecisive position across his abdomen as his mouth hung open. Both he and Britney stepped forwards, hardly believing what they were seeing.
'So whaddya think of this?' Cliff grinned. Big Macca reached to Delilah's face, gently turning her head to one side, then the other.
'Jesus fucking Christ.' he breathed softly, still inspecting her face. She flinched back, but let him, not knowing what else she could possibly do. 'Someone get Seal. This is unbelievable.' The man known as Prince went off to do so.
''K, Big Macca, Brit, this is-'
'Delilah.' the hitherto silent black man filled in. 'Yes.'
'So we meet at last.' Big Macca grinned. 'I've heard a lot about you.'
Prince found her at the end of one of the main halls, leafing through some of the texts on the sunk half of the floor. She was agitated. She didn't know exactly what it was she was looking for, but it was something she'd found before, years ago. And it was important.
Looking at her, no-one would guess that she was halfway through her fourth decade, especially for a woman with no access to plastic surgery. Her skin was smooth, muscles toned from actual use, there wasn't the faintest hint of grey in her thick brown hair. That in itself was unusual. If the follicles were genetically altered, she should have been blonde. All women chose blonde, according to the statistics.
'Hey Seal, babe.'
'I told you before Prince,' she didn't quite snarl, not looking up, 'hitch a hike. I'm not in the mood.'
'Ah've got something to show ye.' he jumped down onto the lower level with her, forcing her to acknowlege him. She glanced up briefly to make eye contact, then continued sifting through the relics as she replied.
'I've seen it before, and I don't want to see it again any time soon but thank you for the offer anyway.'
'Woman, ye've got a one-track mind.' he leered.
'Huh. You can talk.'
'Ah wasnae talkin' aboot that. Big Macca wants tae see ya.' That made her look up.'Oh, he does, does he?' She replied shortly, slightly surprised, and put down the wads of paper from either hand in designated piles which would, no doubt, have been rearranged by the time she got back. She stood and climbed up onto the platform with one step, then waited for him to clamber up after her on his considerably shorter legs. 'I'm surprised he remembers who I am.' she muttered, following the stocky Scotsman up to the entrance. 'It had better be important.'
'Oh, aye.' he said, an amused spark in his eyes. 'It is.'
'What?' Delilah looked around, confused. She'd definitely never met any of these people before, and didn't think it was at all likely that they would be associates of her friends or teachers. A wave of fear washed over her. Could they be secret police agents? No, that didn't make sense. Why would they go to all the trouble of luring her down here when they had been so close up on the surface? It didn't make sense.
'Don't worry.' Big Macca laughed 'We're not Globalsoft minions or anything like that. Look, there's nothing to worry about - the reason we know who you are is -' he cut off abruptly and tilted his head to listen behind him. From at least twenty metres away and below, he could hear a voice, raised slightly in pitch and volume in annoyance. No words were distinguishable when a grin slowly spread across his face, marking the progress of a Thought*. By the time everyone could hear
'Well I don't see why it's so important he sees me NOW and get your hands OFF...' he had strolled over to the doorway it was coming from, planting his feet wide apart and his left hand as high up the frame as he could, right resting on his hip, effectively blocking sight of the room from anyone coming up the stairs. The first Delilah saw of Seal was her hair and feathers, showing behind the silhouette of Big Macca's head, and befishnetted arms planted firmly on hips.
'Lovely to see you my darling, as ever.' Big Macca oozed charm.
'Alright, what do you want?' Seal tried to keep her voice harsh and irritated, but couldn't when he was giving her that look. Completely against her will, it softened. 'What did you need to show me? If it's the cooking rota, I'm sorry, ok? I was looking for something really important, I completely lost track of time and Geo covered for me anyway-'
'Nuh-uh.' Big Macca held one finger to her lips. 'I think it's something you'll be very pleased to see.' He seemed to her to move in slow motion as he stepped to the side and pushed her forwards with one hand in the small of her back. She didn't notice his hand slide down and squeeze her buttock when she saw what was in front of her. A Gaga Girl. A Teen Queen. Blonde hair, dirty, slightly torn miniskirt and top, hair breaking free from its constraints. A girl who had obviously run, climbed and crawled to get there. A girl who had run away from the world she knew. Delilah.
The woman revealed to Delilah seemed incredibly tall, even to her. It wasn't long before she realised that the effect was created by the 4-inch soled boots she was wearing and the almost sphere created by her wild, frizzy brown hair, semi-controlled only by a black headband. The untamed masses rested on a bed of fine red and black feathers attatched to a harness-like set of leather straps. Her arms were covered in converted fishnet tights which were mostly intact, but slashed to rags across her body and so were covered with a red strappy top, also slashed up and with black strips sewn across it. She was wearing a belt consisting of three lines of square studs tight-packed on black leather, and she wore a pair of black leather chaps with black knickers instead of more conventional trousers. They looked perfectly normal until she moved and displayed the strip of skin between the edges of the fabrics. But it wasn't the outfit that mesmerised Delilah. It was the face.
Looking back on the past few days, it was hard for Delilah to fully comprehend all that had happened. She had been persecuted, betrayed, hunted and yet given a last reprieve by her traitor. She'd found out for certain what she'd always suspected all along - that she didn't quite fit in. She didn't even really know what she'd done wrong. In a few short hours her world had shattered and fallen apart. But then, suddenly, it pulled itself back together again.
'Mum?' the whisper barely escaped her lips before she tried to bite it back, embarrassed. The Waki-hol unit wouldn't work at this depth - it, like most other high-power appliances, required far more energy than could possibly be carried around in it and consequently had a remote power source on the surface. There was no way her holographic parent could be down there. This woman was flesh and blood, real, and alive. But she looked identical to the hologramme. Realisation greeted Delilah's brain circuits with a wave, then knocked loudly on the door, and finally, growing tired of being ignored, slapped her with a metaphorical pair of stale kippers.
'You - you're real!' she took one shaky step forwards.
'Delilah...' Seal couldn't take her eyes off her. 'You made it! Oh, I always knew you would my darling -' She cut off abruptly as she ran the short distance to her daughter and threw her arms around her, bursting into overjoyed tears. Delilah returned them. All the stress of the past few days combined with the shock of coming face to face with a woman she thought had been dead for the last three years meant that she couldn't hold them back. She clung to her as if she'd never let go. She didn't want to let go, not this time.
'How?' The sob was barely discernable, being effectively muffled by Seal's hair. 'How is it possible? You're dead, they said you died...'
'Is that what they told you?' Seal pulled away to be able to look straight at Delilah, holding her at arms length. 'Is that what those bastards told you?' Delilah choked back more tears, hastily explaining
'You - you sent me that email, saying you couldn't pick me up from school, remember? And when I checked my inbox again there was a notice from the police saying you'd been - you'd been killed in a-'
'-A freak accident?' Delilah nodded. She could't quite trust herself not to burst into tears again if she spoke.
'Oh Delilah... I'm so sorry, my darling. There was no way to tell you...' She thought for a while, then explained 'Look, pretty much everyone down here was either killed in some sort of accident, or was murdered by 'rebels', or just plain disappeared. They make up an excuse for everyone.'
'But why didn't you ever try to contact me?'
'I couldn't. Don't you see? I had to disappear. Oh, I wanted to - but if I had, I probably would be dead by now, or as good as.' Suddenly she smiled and laughed, as if she'd just realised that she'd done something remarkably silly. 'You know what?' she said cheerily.
'What?' Delilah asked, confused at this sudden change of mood.
'You've grown.'
'The girl would serve as an excellent example of how even the most ordinary kid can be tricked and dragged into the underworld almost irretrievably if we get her back.' Ajax tried to keep his agitation to a minimum. The propaganda division had to give him the funding to find Delilah. They had to.
'We appreciate the value of your proposition, Inspector, but there are some points we need to establish...'
If you even think of refusing me, cunt, I'll pull your plug so fast you won't even have time to say goodbye. the hologramme in front of him continued.
'What, for instance, are our chances of success? An operation of this scale is expensive to mount, as you know well, inspector.'
'Of course it will succeed! I will not stop until I have the bitchgirl!' Ajax said, a little too quickly. 'And...' he continued, attemping to cover his tracks. His minor emotional outburst had not gone unnoticed, though.
'I'm sure that your dedication to the task in hand will play well on the public.' the hologramme interrupted cooly.
'She has an ID and locator chip. Now that the electrical storms have dissipated, my officers can continue to search the last area she was recorded in-'
'But by your own admission, inspector, you do not know where the girl is.' A file was called up on Ajax's monitor, one line of the report highlighted. 'As your human officer reported-' there was the slightest hint of disdain on the mention of the minion's race '- and I quote, 'She simply disappeared into the ground'.'
'I will find her.' Ajax replied grimly. She will be mine.
'So what have you been doing all this time? Have you really been here for three years? How do you survive?'
'One question at a time, sweetie!'
'I haven't seen you since I was fourteen, loads of stuff's happened and you've changed so much...' Delilah prattled happily at her mother in a way she hadn't done since she was about nine or ten as the small party took her down to the main body of the Heartbreak. Seal didn't particularly listen. This was it. This was what she had been waiting for. Her little girl had come home at last, and that was all that mattered.
'So anyway, after listening to it for the last 17 and a half years, I thought "Hey, it can't be THAT hard, I'll try it myself", and it sort of blew up in my face and I guess that's what got me here so it turned out for the best really...' Delilah was so caught up in recounting her story to the small group(not particularly noticing, or caring, whether or not they were listening) that she didn't notice the underwear guy pulling her mother to one side, or that he was speaking to her in very hushed tones.
'Seal, baby, you know I hate to piss on your parade, but we have to make sure the chick's safe.'
'Of course she's safe! Paul, this is my daughter we're talking about-'
'We can't be sure of that just yet. We don't know how far they've come.'
'You don't understand, I'm her mother - I would know if it wasn't her.'
'I know that, I know that, but - well - she could have been sent here.' Seal stopped and turned to him.
'You can't really think that, can you?'
'Any new arrival is a potential threat, you know that. Even her.' The thought had, in fact, occurred to her, but she'd repressed it and hoped that the small fact would go unnoticed by everyone else.
'We have to check her out.' She looked deflated, suddenly needing to lean against the wall for support.
'She can't be.' her voice went very quiet. 'Oh Paul, I just don't think I could take it if my little girl was a spy.'
'Hey, babe, it'll be alright.' Big Macca wrapped his arms around her shoulders comfortingly, as he tried to think of something to say to go with the gesture. 'Chances of her being who she says she is... well, they're pretty high, aren't they? I mean, what with you having had all these visions and stuff.'
'Dreams, Big Macca. Just dreams, but they came true.'
'Well, the commissioner's got back to me, and he agrees with your choice of figurehead for the adolescant re-claim programme.' Ajax's relief was practically tangible. 'Off the record, I sincerely hope that you don't screw this up.'
'That's a very sentient attitude, 3335/98752.' the hologramme shrugged.
'Merely self-preserving. If you destroy yourself, you have the means and motivation to do the same to me.'
'Logical. How much have I got to find her?'
'Whatever you need.' he replied drily. 'He's looked her up, and is very taken with her. Almost as much as you, I would say.'
'I have absolutely no idea what you could possibly be talking about.' Ajax said blandly. 'I am interested purely in the bitchgirl's welfare.'
'I had no intention of implying anything otherwise.' The cool response threw Ajax off-guard. They sat there, staring at each other for a few moments before the hologramme spoke again.
'Unless you have any further questions, that will be all, Inspector. Please do not hesistate to come to us with any queries that may arise.'
Down in the Heartbreak Hotel, the Bohemians weren't through with their security checks.
'She's chipped.'
'Where?'
'Back of the neck, just about there.' Seal demonstrated on Big Macca.
'Anything else?'
'No, I don't think so.'
'WristWAP.' Britney added helpfully. 'They all had them last time I went up.'
'Yes, of course.'
'We'll have to take that off her.'
Delilah, perched on a hand rail, watched the small huddle with interest. It was an odd concept to her, the idea of people talking about something and not only not wanting it to be overheard, but actively trying to prevent it as well.
'What are they talking about?' she asked the woman who had been left to guard her. She was learning to distinguish individual Bohemians by their clothes, at first glance. This also was new, to a girl who was used to uniform, identikit teenagers who strove to be as similar as possible. This one was wearing mostly red, red trousers, red fishnet top and red bra, breaking the trend with the remains of a grey tail-coat on top. She also - and this would prove very useful for identification later, when she changed - had a pair of what Delilah would later discover were drumsticks, shoved into one pocket. The woman shrugged.
'You, I guess.'
'Oh. Right.' Now that was more understandable. Not talking to people when you were talking about them was perfectly normal. 'Why?'
'Gotta check you're not an android or a hologramme or a spy or anything like that. Can't have you destroying the Heartbreak.' Delilah couldn't quite tell whether or not she was serious. Subtlety was not something she was at all used to.
'The what?' The woman looked at her with a calculating half-smile.
'The Heartbreak.'
'What's that?' Delilah asked, still as puzzled.
'You're in it. The Heartbreak Hotel.'
'Oh, right!' Delilah got it. 'So that's what you call this place. Why would I want to destroy it?'
'You don't know much, do you kid?' This time she spoke with a genuine smile. If only this girl was for real, there was potential here for a great Bohemian. This time Delilah shrugged.
'I'm willing to learn.'
'We're illegal. Everything about us - the way we live, the way we dress, the way we think. Especially the way we think. And our music. It's pretty crude at the moment, but when we find the rhapsody we'll have the power to turn every GaGa kid on the planet away from Globalsoft. That scares them, so they try to eliminate us.'
'But why would they send me? Why not a normal policeman?'
'Delilah babes, do you have any idea how long we've been evading them?' Delilah shook her head. 'Since, like, forever. Since the first formation of Globalsoft, there have been Bohemians. They get more and more desperate to destroy us every time they try, and they've tried a lot. They've sent spies, they've sent hologrammes, they've scoured the wildernesses to find us. They hardly ever find us. And when they do -' she stopped short, considering whether or not it would be wise to tell this girl what happened to spies. It might cause her to bolt, and that would certainly not be good.
'And when they do...?' Delilah prompted her. Madonna sighed at her own thoughtlessness, and continued.
'Let's just say they never get to report back.' The words she embellished with a sharp cutting motion across her throat with one hand. Delilah swallowed and turned visibly paler. She looked over at the group, still discussing her, and picked out her mother. She wouldn't let them kill her, would she? No, of course not. She had come here for their protection, they wouldn't hurt her. All she had to do was prove who she was and she'd be fine.
The circle opened up. Delilah felt apprehension rise in her throat and hoped that they wouldn't ask her to speak. She couldn't.
'K, Delilah, I'm sure you understand that we've got to careful about, like, who we let join us here at the Heartbreak, right?' Big Macca started. She nodded mutely. 'Good, good. Well, thing is, I hope you accept my apologies in advance, right, cos what we're gonna have to do - to ensure our own safety, and yours too, of course, you understand - well, some of it might be a bit painful, and we're gonna have to take away your wristWAP, hope you don't mind, but it's trackable, y'see so it's an unfortunate thing but we can't afford to have it here as it's a danger to our, like, security.' Delilah nodded again, this time managing a quiet spoken affirmation. 'Right. Well, the worst part is that your mother here tells me that you're chipped, and we're gonna have to - well - remove it.'
'Wh-what do you mean?' Her voice returned to her gradually, as it grew clearer that despatching her wasn't on top of their collective agenda. Her mother came forward, gently explaining -
'Darling, you have an ID chip. It's in the back of your skull, just under the skin, and it wouldn't be a problem except that it's a locator chip too - well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. All my friends were doing it.' Delilah nodded in understanding. That made sense.
'So take it out.' she shrugged.
'Ah.' All eyes went to Big Macca, from whom the noise had emitted.
'Ah?'
'Well, y'see, problem is that we kinda... well, we're sort of lacking in the anaesthetic department.' Delilah looked blank.
'We don't have any pain killers.' Madonna translated. 'It's gonna hurt.'
Ajax hummed the latest boyband's hit happily under his breath as he sat down at his console to run a search for his runaway. Disappeared into the ground... he mused. Could he have meant... no, that's not possible. He opened the chip tracking programme, gave it her code and watched as it's graphics displayed something similar to a 20th century radar on his screen. It started picking something up, sifting through the numbers, refining the search. Ajax got up to get himself a cup of coffee while it worked. It beeped. He grinned - it had found her signal. Now all that had to happen was for it to be located... it beeped again, but this time it was more of a 'bleuurgh' than a 'beep'. He sat down to see what had happened, snarled, kicked the computer and hurled his coffee across the room.
The chip had been deactivated.
'So this has been instide my neck all my life?' Delilah cautiously fingered the - rather flatter than it used to be, thanks to Madonna's heel - ID chip that had just been expertly, if rather painfully, removed from under her skin.
'Pretty much, yep. Broadcasting your whereabouts to the police the whole time.'
Delilah examined it a bit closer. 'Why did they bother to put LEDs in it?'
'God knows.' They inspected the chip a bit closer, in thoughtful silence. Big Macca took the opportunity to bring the conversation back round onto topic.
'Yeah, well, this is all very great an' all, but we've got to get on with, y'know, clearing the girl for, like, entry.'
'True, true.' Aretha said gently.
'Right! Well. Ok then. First test, Brit, if you would be so kind...'
'Jumping Jack Flash, it's just a...' Britney started.
There was silence.
There was some more silence.
There was some silence that wasn't strictly silence, as it included some restless shifting and clearing of impatient throats.
Finally, there was something that wasn't silence. Aware that all eyes were on her and that they were waiting for a response, Delilah tried gave the only one that came to her mind.
'Err... pardon?'
Madonna tried to hold in a giggle, but it came out as a snort.
'Well, she ain't the dreamer.'
'Nope.'
'Indeed.'
'The what?'
'Ah. Right.' Big Macca began, slightly uncomfortably. The Dreamer monologue was halfway through his normal speech, and it referred to stuff he'd have said before, and he'd have to say it differently this time, and it was all a bit awkard and he'd have to make it up as he went along and he really wished she'd started at the beginning. 'Well, what we do is try to, like, dig up the past of music and make it play again. Cos, right, once we've got the music again, we'll have the Rhapsody, then -'
'What's this Rhapsody?'
'Oh. Right. Erm. Well, it's basically, like, the effect you get from real live rock, it's this really powerful state of being-'
'Like ecstacy?'
'Well, yeah, but without any kind of drug or anything. Just the music. Right. The Dreamer. Yes. Well, we're doing our best to create this music to bring the Rhapsody on, but we can't do it alone. We believe that, in time, there will arise a man who carries the past within him - a man who can remember. And once he - or she, it could always be a woman, we don't discriminate - comes to us, we will rock. And then Globalsoft won't stand a chance, and we'll all be free again to be ourselves, to have our lives, to make our own music - real music, with real musical instruments.'
'Oh. I see.' This wasn't the awe he was expecting, but he put that down to the fact that she hadn't enjoyed the full benefit of his speech.
'But, yeah, the point is that the Dreamer would, like, recognise what Brit just sung and would respond to it.' She nodded. 'Right. So, on with the tests. Have you ever been to the Heartbreak before?' She shook her head. 'Ok, read the holy texts?'
'The what?'
'Good, good. Know what a Bohemian is?' she shook her head again. 'Ever heard of us before?' she nodded. 'Ok, when?' Delilah cleared her throat.
'My dad told me to find you, after he'd grassed me up to the Secret Police.'
'Oh. Umm, that could be a problem.'
'Nah, we took the chip out.' Madonna reminded him.
'Yeah, true. Right, have you been into hospital recently, Delilah?' she shook her head again. 'Right! Well, that's that then. Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel.'
'Is -' she yawned, and was suddenly aware of quite how long it had been since she had last slept properly. '- that it?'
'Yup, you're cleared.' Madonna said, cheerfully slapping her on the back. Unfortunately, this had the effect of her collapsing in a heap on the floor. 'Bloody hell, when did you last eat?' she asked, hauling her back up to her feet.
'Dunno... yesterday? Last night? Not sure...' Brit came forwards, offering her an arm to lean on that she gladly accepted.
'Bugger that, she needs to sleep.' her mother said authoritively.
'My bed's closest...' Madonna offered.
'Yeah. Come on.'
Delilah was in a daze as they took her down into the main body of the Heartbreak. Here and there she was aware of inquiring faces on fantastic, bizarre bodies, and of the occaisional brief explanation of who she was and what she was doing there. The stairs seemed almost endless to her tired legs, and the sight of Madonna's sleeping bag and various other items of bedding was one of the most welcoming she'd ever seen.
'There now, you just crash there.' Madonna smiled as she heard a muffled 'thanks' from the girl Brit and Seal were depositing on her bed.
'Sleep well, darling.' Seal murmered. 'You're safe now.'
*Big Macca is not really prone to recieving many of these. Fortunately, most of the other Bohemians are, and find subtle ways to introduce them to him that generally result in fairly good leadership.back