I could get used to this.
Chapter Thirty
Dory, Hong Kong
“Okay, how did I miss this?” I asked, after Louis-Cesare helped me out of the limo.
It looked like there was already stratification taking place in the new, floating city. The rusted-out buses we’d passed earlier were nowhere to be seen, nor were there any tire buffer zones. Instead, the limo pulled smoothly into a berth beside what reminded me of a dockside village, only there was no water. It floated on air instead, high above the ruined cityscape, like a manmade island complete with greenery and a central fountain.
The buildings were wood, I guessed because it was lighter and quicker to build, but they weren’t houses. The ones I could see from the outskirts looked like nightclubs, bars and restaurants, with a few shops littered in between. There was a movie theatre, a couple of dueling karaoke bars blasting waves of sound back and forth, and even a miniature night market down the center.
It was a floating entertainment complex, I realized, and appeared to have a large clientele.
The limo was secured by a little gate in back of the berth, and we exited straight onto one of the wooden sidewalks that connected the buildings. They were broad and a little bouncy, but perfectly walkable. On either side, there were shrubs in pots and squares of grass in planters, on what, now that I looked at it more closely, did seem to be a base of old tires. But they were covered by the sidewalks and greenery and thus almost invisible.
“How do you keep from floating off?” I asked our guide, whose name—I shit you not—was Elvis.
“Engines underneath. Enough to move us about, when we need to.”
“Why would you need to do that?”
“Hot spots,” he said, which didn’t tell me anything, and he strode away toward a large building before I could ask.
It was nothing special on the outside, not that any of the buildings were. There hadn’t been a lot of time for decoration, I guessed, or even painting. The bare wood had mostly been left the way it was, except for a few signs and some ads rippling across the surface of the boards.
In this case, the ads had gotten an upgrade, with the two scantily clad, cartoon cuties who hedged the door encased in large gold frames with solid backgrounds, giving them the look of paintings. Except that these paintings moved: dancing, gyrating and blowing kisses, I guess to entice visitors. Fun, I thought—right before one spotted Louis-Cesare.
A 2-D leg immediately emerged from the wall, stepping down onto the sidewalk in a six-inch, bright red, platform heel. A wiggle and a grunt later, and the rest of the body followed, clad in a red, floral pattered cheongsam, which barely managed to contain the unlikely curves within. The body was still 2-D for a second, but then she
shivered all over and fluffed out to full size.
And full-size was no joke, because she was wasn’t Chinese, but rather a svelte blonde Valkyrie type who latched onto Louis-Cesare’s arm with a hand tipped in two-inch long, bright red nails.
“Back on the wall, Svetlana,” Elvis said, sounding annoyed.
Svetlana ignored him. “Aren’t you a handsome one?” she purred at my hubby. “And so tall. I love a tall man—”
“Did I stutter?” Elvis demanded.
She pouted at him. “I’m bored! All I ever get to do out here is wave at people. I want to go back inside—”
“You can go back inside when it’s your turn.”
“Hey, cutie.” A pair of jet-black nails latched onto Louis-Cesare’s other arm. “Well, aren’t you the one?”
I did a double take, both because the voice was low and husky enough to be a man’s, and because—
“Shit!” I said, stepping back a pace. The newbie was a Betty Boop clone, which was not fun in person. Not at all.
She’d looked kind of adorable on the wall, where I’d have assumed, if I’d had time to assume anything, that she was advertising some sort of cosplay. But no. The head was hugely oversized, and the eyes were massive and glassy and staring. The body was tiny by comparison, ludicrously so, and completely black and white except for a little gray shading here and there.
“You can ask for me at the desk,” she told Louis-Cesare huskily, who was just standing there, appearing vaguely stunned. “They put me out here, but if you ask—”
“Back on the wall!” Elvis said, sounding pissed.
And then he said something else, but I didn’t hear him.
“Auuuggghhhh!” I screamed, when something jumped down from the roof and knocked me to the ground. I was back on my feet in a second, and pulling a gun—