“Of course I am, sweetheart. Man, I want the whole fucking story, too. Look, we’ll just be shooting the sex scenes first, get them fuckers out of the way. Then we can concentrate on all the other stuff, we’ll do it big style on location, where it actually happened. Okay?”
“What utter crap!”
“You don’t like Joseph? Fine. No fucking problem. I’ll get reprofiled to look like your boyfriend, and pump you myself.”
“Oh, Jesus wept!” She went for the door.
Jaycee’s hand came down on her shoulder and spun her around. His face was flushed and angry, hot blotches showing where too much cheap cellular reprofiling had been done to him down the decades. “Stop being such a fucking bitch-kitty princess. You signed that fucking contract, and you fucking knew what was in it. You’re even wetwired specially for this gig, for fuck’s sake. If you’ve started shitting it because this is your first time, then boo fucking hoo. I can slip you a dose of coolant that can take care of that for you, no fucking problem. You’ll be chill for the whole gig. But don’t fucking come marching in here and fucking tell me this isn’t what you wanted.”
“It’s not what I was told was going to happen. I had those OCtattoos because all actresses know we have to do that. Making love is an integral part of life. So love scenes contribute to the drama’s narrative structure. But they’re only a part of it. You just want to do that and nothing else.”
“Actress? Fuck me. If that’s what you want to fucking call yourself, then go right ahead. But I paid for those OCtattoos because you’re a fantasy fuck, princess hardass. You’re the real fucking deal; you’re the kind of trim that those sad little fucks out there in access land can only ever envy all the rich bastards for having. Your kind doesn’t ever fucking put out for a guy unless he’s got a hundred mil in his bank. Now I get to give them what you really taste like. And they’re going to love us for it.”
“No. I’m not doing it.”
“Did you see any multiple fucking choice boxes to check off when you came in here, you stupid bitch? I fucking paid for you and I’m gonna fucking collect. Our contract says you spread your legs when I tell you to and let us record every fucking feeling in your tight-ass body when my dol goes to work inside you. And stop giving me all this shit about it, else I’ll see to it that you wind up in the suspension chamber next to your killer boyfriend. We’ve got a legal contract.”
Jaycee was staring triumphantly right into her eyes, eager to catch the first signs of submission.
Mellanie was fast. Years of that relentless, tedious training with the squad had given her the kind of strength and reflexes that modern athletes normally had to have wetwired and retrosequenced into their bodies. Her knee came up, with powerful leg muscles trying to lift it all the way to Jaycee’s chin. His scrotum was the first thing to get in the way.
She watched his mouth drop open soundlessly. His eyes widened, flooding with tears. He slid to one side, making a quiet, agonized choking sound, and crumpled to the floor.
“I’m going to call my agent now,” she told him dispassionately. “But when you’re out of the hospital, we really must do lunch.”
The taxi dropped Mellanie off by the lakeside in the Glyfada district. She sat on a long wooden bench just above the water, watching the sailing yachts making their way out of the marina in Shilling Harbor to catch the first of the morning winds. The bars and restaurants behind her were just starting to open for the day, with delivery trucks parked outside several of them, cargobots unloading fresh food. They weren’t actually serving yet. It was too early for that. Her brand-new media career had lasted all of forty-five minutes.
The shakes began as she finally allowed herself to think about Jaycee, and what she’d done actually hit home. An incredulous half laugh burst from her lips, more relief than anything else. No one at Wayside Productions had tried to stop her as she left. They all just stared at her as she walked past the sets, as if she were some mad serial killer—except for Tiger Pansy who’d winked.
I can’t believe I did that.
Which triggered a terrible thought. If that ability was to be found in the core of every human mind, then could Morton actually have…
She stopped that line of reasoning straightaway.
But it felt good. I actually stood up for myself.
In the heat of the moment. And no doubt Jaycee would file charges as soon as he could walk and talk again. And she’d signed the contract. It had seemed so wonderful at the time, the perfect solution to her situation. Dear old Hoshe’s suggestion of waitressing or college were nonstarters. He didn’t understand, she simply couldn’t do things like that. Not after the life she’d been shown. That cut her options down considerably.
