Idoru

31. The Way Things Work

See how things work, Laney? ‘What goes around, comes around’? ‘You can run, but you can’t hide’? Know those expressions, Laney? How some things get to be clichés because they touch on certain truths, Laney? Talk to me, Laney.”

Laney lowered himself into one of the miniature armchairs, hugging his ribs.

“You look like shit, Laney. Where have you been?”

“The Western World,” he said. He didn’t like watching himself do those things on the screen, but he found he couldn’t look away. He knew that wasn’t him, there. They’d mapped his face onto someone else. But it was his face. He remembered hearing something someone had said about mirrors, a long time ago, that they were somehow unnatural and dangerous.

“So you’re trying your hand at the Orient now?”

She hadn’t understood, he thought, which meant she didn’t know where he’d been, earlier. Which meant they hadn’t been watching him here. “That’s that guy,” he said, “that Hillman. From the day I met you. My job interview. He was a porno extra.”

“Don’t you think he’s being awfully rough with her?”

“Who is she, Kathy?”

“Think back. If you can remember Clinton Hillman, Laney…”

Laney shook his head.

“Think actor, Laney. Think Alison Shires…”

“His daughter,” Laney said, no doubt at all.

“I definitely think that’s too rough. That borders on rape, Laney. Assault. I think we could make a case for assault.”

“Why would she do that? How could you get her to do that?” Turning from the screen to Kathy. “I mean, unless it really is rape.”

“Let’s hear the soundtrack, Laney. See what you’re saying, there. Cast some light on motive.”

“Don’t,” he said. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“You’re talking about her father the whole time, Laney. I mean, obsession is one thing, but just droning on about him that way, right through a white-knuckle skull-fuck—”

He almost fell, coming up out of the chair. He couldn’t find the manual controls. Wires back there. He pulled out the first three he found. Third did it.

“Put it on the Lo/Rez tab, Laney? Rock and roll lifestyle? Aren’t you supposed to throw them out the window, though?”

“What’s it about, Kathy? You want to just tell me now?”

She smiled at him. Exactly the smile he remembered from his job interview. “May I call you Colin?”

“Kathy: fuck you.”

She laughed. “We may have come full circle, Laney.”

“How’s that?”

“Think of this as a job interview.”

“I’ve got a job.”

“We’re offering you another, Laney. You can moonlight.”

Laney made it back to the chair. Lowered himself in as slowly as possible. The pain made him gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ribs. Hurt.” He found a way to settle back that seemed to help.

“Were you in a fight? Is that blood?”

“I went to a club.”

“This is Tokyo, Laney. They don’t have fights in clubs.”

“That was really her, the daughter?”

“It certainly is. And she’ll be more than happy to talk about it on Slitscan, Laney. Seduced into sadistic sex games by a stalker obsessed with her famous, her loving dad. Who has come around, by the way. Who is one of ours now.”

“Why? Why would she do that? Because he told her to?”

“Because,” Kathy said, looking at him as though she were concerned that he might have sustained brain damage as well, “she’s an aspiring actress in her own right, Laney.” She looked at him hopefully, as though he might suddenly start to process. “The big break.”

“Thatis going to be her big break?”

“A break,” Kathy Torrance said, “is a break. And you know something? I’m trying, I’m trying really hard, to give youone instead. Right now. And it wouldn’t be the first, would it?”

The phone began to ring. “You’d better take this,” she said, passing him the white slab of cedar.

“Yes?”

“The fan-activity data-base.” It was Yamazaki. “You must access it now.”

“Where are you?”

“In hotel garage. With van.”

“Look, I’m in kind of rough shape, here. Can it wait?”

“Wait?” Yamazaki sounded horrified.

Laney looked at Kathy Torrance. She was wearing something black and not quite short enough to show her tattoo. Her hair was shorter now. “I’ll be down when I can. Keep it open for me.” He hung up before Yamazaki could reply.

“What was that about?”

“Shiatsu.”

“You’re lying.”

“What do you want, Kathy? What’s the deal?”

“Him, I want him. I want a way in. I want to know what he’s doing. I want to know what he thinks he’s doing, trying to screw a piece of Japanese software.”

“Marry,” Laney said.

Her smile vanished. “You don’t correct me, Laney.”

“You want me to spy on him.”

“Research.”

“Balls.”

“You wish.”

“If I got anything you could use, you’d want me to set him up.”

The smile returned. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“And I get?”

“A life. A life in which you haven’t been branded an obsessive stalker who preyed on the attractive daughter of the object of your obsession. A life in which it isn’t public knowledge that a series of disastrous pharmaceutical trials permanently and hideously rewired you. Fair enough?”

“What about her? The daughter. She do all that with the Hillman guy for nothing?”

“Your call, Laney. Work for us, get me what I need, she’s shit out of luck.”

“That easy? She’d go along with that? After what she had to do?”

“If she wants even the remotest hope of having a career eventually—yes.”

Laney looked at her. “That isn’t me. It’s a morph. If I could prove it was a morph, I could sue you.”

“Really? You could afford that, could you? It takes years. And even then, you might not win. We’ve got a lot of money and talent to throw at problems like that, Laney. We do it all the time.” The door chimed. “That’ll be mine,” she said. She got up, went to the door, touched the security screen. Laney glimpsed part of a man’s face. She opened the door. It was Rice Daniels, minus his trademark sunglasses. “Rice is with us now, Laney,” she said. “He’s been a terrific help with your backgrounder.”

“Out of Control didn’t work out?” Laney asked Daniels.

Daniels showed Laney a lot of very white teeth. “I’m sure we could work together, Laney. I hope you don’t have any issues around what happened.”

“Issues,” Laney said.

Kathy walked back, handed Laney a blank white card with a pencilled number. “Call me. Before nine tomorrow. Leave a message. Yes or no.”

“You’re giving me a choice?”

“It’s more fun that way. I want you to thinkabout it.” She reached down and flicked the collar of Laney’s shirt. “Stitch-count,” she said. Turned and walked out, Daniels pulling the door shut behind them.

Laney sat there, staring at the closed door, until the phone began to ring.

It was Yamazaki.