Chapter 10: 09: VENOM

"It's new shit."

"New shit?"

"Yeah. Purple Dot. It's like Pink but better. As strong as powder if you take a lot of it."

"I don't like powder. Hurts my...nose."

"I remember."

"Candy's my favorite."

"This is better than candy. You’ll love it. Goes down easy, just like you will."

Talitha glanced around the quiet service hallway behind the pilot kiosk of the landing garage at La Maria Theater, the historic landmark facility where Arbiter Pendergast was holding the fundraiser that night. She gathered the skirts of her shimmering gown and shifted closer to Ivan, peering at the vial in his palm. Smoky, light red venom swirled around inside, an ethereal mist that flowed like a fluid liquid.

"It'll go right in the cartridge?" she said.

"If it's unlocked you're good. Otherwise the sensors will clog and fail. You know the drill."

"Right."

She chewed her lip before nodding, glancing at her COM band. The fundraiser wasn't just another high society party but also provided publicity for her volunteer work at Capitol City’s lavish Temple Altiria as well as serving as a favor for Adam's mother and the Pender-Pal foundation. Talitha would represent those entities to the press that night and the process would prove exhausting in its endless media questions and close surveillance of her every move, as usual. A hit of something good before she took the proverbial stage would make things so much better. More bearable against the tedium.

"How much?" she asked.

"Zip,” replied Ivan. “Free."

"I have money, Rodinsky. I can pay for it. Don’t do that."

"Relax, Morai. It's a sample. Supposed to be free and that’s not a fucking insult. You’re too fucking touchy and it’s annoying. Fucking relax."

He handed it to her. She hesitated before accepting.

"Thanks," she said. “Sorry. I am a little sensitive sometimes, I guess.”

"Whatever. We’ve all got an issue or another.”

“Yeah.”

“Back to what’s important—that stuff’s real strong. All you need is a taste." He winked at her as she examined the vial. "You'll be flying in your own little world and having a ball at the ball. Everything will be extra-extra."

"That's what I'm looking for. I'll take a hit in a bit." She grinned at him, smoothing her styled hair. "Flare. You’re all right when you want to be. Do that more often."

"Don’t get too used to my fuzzy side. I’m here to give you stellar shit, nothing more."

"Right."

Aromatic filters whirred to life when Talitha entered La Maria's restroom and fresh floral scents welcomed her as she shut herself inside a private stall. Practiced fingers removed the vial and sedasig hidden in the heart-shaped bosom of her gown and she loaded a tiny dose of the illicit Dot into the cartridge, like she'd done so many times before.

Talitha planted both palms against the sink and gave her reflection a hard stare with the sedasig tucked between her fingers. The cremes and smoky colors the stylists sprayed and painted on her face to enhance her looks did a professional job of making her appear a lot older than seventeen atomic years—and also like someone else entirely. She studied herself for a short moment, making faces and grins that distorted the colors on her features, before bringing the sedasig to her lips and inhaling slow.

Euphoria bloomed as parasite toxin, the kind that seeped into a person’s bloodstream during an actual bite, swelled inside of her from her brain down to her toes. She stumbled, struck by a sudden invisible psychedelic force, and a high giggle escaped her at the rush. She quieted the involuntary noise by pressing her hand over her mouth, snickering against her fingers. Everything was all right. Always right and always would be right.

Her back hit the wall of the restroom and she used that to guide herself to crouch to the floor, sitting there for a short while as her senses drifted in and out of the native poison's spell. The initial rush faded and she leveled, a response that the natives of Ipir advised was the byproduct of her mind shifting to a interdimensional mental state they called limbo. Full of sudden energy from the drug, Talitha spoke a command to her COM.

"COM, direct link to PK. Go. Come on, you useless thing. Hurry up or…whatever."

COM asserted her command with a subtle ping to the jeweled bud pierced into her tragus. To her delight the young priestess and future Queen of Bhet answered within two tones, as if Talitha’s contact had been expected. Kalum's voice greeted her from the other end with a song, vocalizing a few warmup lines from the upcoming hymn.

"Hey Kala," said Talitha.

"Li,” replied Kalum, pausing her singing. “Something wrong?"

"No. just wanted to see your face."

Kalum flushed at Talitha’s words and adjusted the elaborate stage dress she wore, cascades of long hair falling from the lunar loops on her head—an extravagant style that towered another head in height above her and trailed down over her form. She beamed, pleased by Talitha’s compliment.

"Sure you did."

"It's true. Look at you.” Talitha sighed, a smile curling over her lips as well. “Wow. You're the one who's hot. I can’t stop looking at you. So pretty. Gorgeous. And you’re mine. You make me want to…ah, you know. With you.”

"Oh, be quiet,” scoffed Kalum. “You’re so stupid and I can't see your stupid face over this link, only hear your stupid words. I get a blinking dot." The pinging sound of a return request resonated in Talitha's ear. "Turn on your optics. Let me see what the stylists did to you. It’s my turn to look you over, you brat."

Talitha commanded COM to stream her visual to Kalum's device. She brought her wrist to eye level and rested her arm on her knee, meeting Kalum's dark gaze through the projection. "Better?"

“Aye.” The priestess studied Talitha’s face and hair. "Wow. You look different. I’d almost think that wasn’t you if it wasn’t for your hair."

"It's the paint—this is the most they’ve ever put on me. I feel different and I don’t know why they did that."

"Probably because it’s an anniversary. They want you to look special. It’s eye-catching. I’ve seen the look done on Trendster so you’re in style.”

“I guess so.”

“Well, I see something else—your pupils are huge. That's not the stylist’s fault. You took a hit, didn't you?"

"Hm. Maybe."

"You’re not hiding it well at all,” chided Kalum. “Please get yourself together before you go back out there. I can't wait for you to finally quit the stuff. You can get addicted and you know it can happen fast. Just look at Spencer…he’s always on venom and he’s a mess."

"Ritual extract's not much different, Your Holiness. The lot of you in Altiria are always huffing it. I think you get pretty high on it and just call it intensive prayer."

"Yes, but ritual extract actually is different, so don’t call it huffing. It's ceremonial and controlled and purified and—ah, we're not discussing this again. Fighting over dumb definitions. You won’t make me sour tonight." Kalum laughed. "Li. You look so different. Like...a dangerous woman."

Talitha pulled at a pin and a tendril of hair fell over her face. "Dangerous. Sure. I want to take it off already. No offense to your mom and I appreciate her help in getting me ready for this event but...it's too much for me."

"I also want you to take it off."

Talitha paused and her smile returned.

"You what?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh,” she said. “Is that right?"

"Aye."

"Okay. Maybe I should stop by your dressing room. Let you say that to my face. See what happens."

"Can't. Not for that. Mama's in and out with the attendants. Can you imagine if they caught us—? Dala. I’m ruined."

"Whatever."

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"I told you we'll meet later. No rush. There’s a lot that’ll happen to your face. I promise you’ll see."

"Whatever."

Kalum laughed before disconnecting, leaving Talitha with a blinking dot of her own. Her lids drooped as she reveled in the mental twists and turns of the contraband. Checking the hour once more, she found that time was moving much faster than she’d expected, a mental effect that was likely due to the Dot. She braced against the polished wall behind her and pulled herself back up to her feet, another sharp giggle escaping her chest. She caught sight of her reflection and covered her mouth at her appearance. Not a good look, a bit disheveled—and she'd have to wait until the giggles passed.

"Oh…fuck. What have you done?" She tottered toward the sink, smoothing her hair. "Nice job, Li. Professional. Miss Miss Mag, above the scroll for sure."

She couldn't remember if this was the restroom that stored eye clearing drops in the cabinets or if it was the other. Hopefully it was this one, because she couldn’t imagine traveling to the other the way she felt now. She pressed her palm against the cabinet's control panel and scanned the items within, knocking over a small bottle with a lazy hand. She chided herself as she bent over to pick it up.

"Get it together, ace," she grumbled.

There were no clearing drops within the space so she splashed herself with cold water instead, waving her hand over the faucet to activate the flow. She caught cupfuls in her palms and closed her eyes, a rush from the Dot pumping through her blood. She nodded at her reflection, ready for whatever the night would bring, and waited for the worst of the contraband rush to pass.

☼ ☼ ☼

Sparkling water spiked with a generous shot of something strong was the agreed-upon cocktail the bartender on La Maria's balcony served Adam in exchange for illicit coin. In four months Adam would be eighteen, old enough to order any drink he wanted properly, but until then a spritz for a bribe was the best he could obtain. He grimaced as he drained the glass of clear liquid fire mixed with something bubbly, squinting down the length of the bar.

A crowd of people stood gathered few meters away, a mixture of important types that had already trapped Adam in long conversations regarding his mother or his future or a number of other similar topics throughout the night. The heavyweights were prominent politicians from Peace Party as well as affluent Union business executives and they accepted drinks from servers as they mingled on the floor, full of enthusiasm after Ovadia’s address to her invited guests. She’d thanked them all for their generosity to both her campaign and to Pender-Pal before introducing the notable close to the evening, the special memorial tribute as performed by Priestess Kalum Khelot.

Adam shifted position, trying to appear as uninteresting as possible to avoid a return to the repetitive banter, and the din of the twelve hundred people and staff present at La Maria helped to mask his attempts to hide. He signaled for another drink and glanced at the telescreen projection above the bar as the bartender removed his empty glass. Media-owned NAV bugs, their tiny recording bots, hovered over the stage broadcasting visuals of Kalum’s preparations to an array of nightly news feeds. He watched her during his attempt at stark intoxication, hoping the drinks would jolt his nerves and push him to act. Events had lined up in his life that implored him to make some kind of a move.

Talitha was there, alone. No Spencer—finally. That underground show was less than two days away and an Altirian priestess was about to sing a solemn hymn in dedication to his father as well as for lives lost in the war with Ipir's native infection, a battle that Adam’s family had fought since the dawn of Ipirian Year 0. Adam's chances for rejection would never be lower than they were at that moment. The time was now.

His thoughts were disrupted and he jumped in his seat when a hard grip shook him from behind with force. A loud voice blared in his ear and he flinched at the volume.

"You're fucking pathetic!"

Ivan’s voice. Adam turned to see two figures dressed in sharp evening suits approaching to join him at the bar, both signaling for the bartender to return to serve them drinks as well. They moved their conversation to COM and Adam eyed them both as they dropped onto the seats beside him.

"Thanks," he muttered back.

Jonah looked over at Adam gravely and snatched the glass of bubbling drink away, sniffing it with a crinkled nose. "Shit," he choked. "That’s Clear Dot. You're desperate."

"Just enough to take the edge off" Adam shrugged. "Don't want to blow it. Once I tell her there’s no going back but I guess if this ruins everything then...I don't know."

"So you’re going for it.” Jonah nodded. “Good. She's down there."

"Going for it. Yeah. Something like that. I’ll talk to her, at least."

"Listen mate, even if you fuck it up she's still going to that show. Spencer's out and nobody thought that would ever end, what with that storybook shit they had going on between them. It's not over. I don't see her with anyone else yet and I'm sure she's gotten offers already. She's attractive and no bites so far."

"I know. Time’s now. Just hope she takes me seriously after—"

"Your track record?" Ivan said, glancing aside as the bartender approached. "She'll probably think you're trying to make her another of your notches. She stuck with Spencer for years and that’s not her style. You have to put in a lot of work for that one. Fucking pain."

"Whatever."

"Just telling you the deal."

"Got it. Maybe that’s what I like about her, anyway. That she wants more. I respect that. I should want more too. Maybe that’s what my problem’s been." Adam met the bartender's eye. "Listen, mate, I'll order a round for these men—"

"I'll take care of it," Ivan interrupted.

“Huh?”

“Hold on.”

Ivan reached forward and shook the bartender's hand. The bartender nodded in return. Something exchanged between them and the young server walked away. Adam nudged his head in the direction of the retreating figure.

"What’s that about?" he said.

"What’s what about?" replied Ivan nonchalantly, running a hand over his scalp and settling back on his stool.

"You passed him something."

"Yeah. New shit."

"What new shit?"

"Purple Dot," said Jonah. He leaned closer and lowered his voice, pulling out a small vial of Dot to pass it to Adam. "Different kind of venom."

Adam examined the compact casing for a moment before handing it back to Jonah. "Let me guess,” he said. “Newest, latest, strongest?"

Ivan chuckled as the bartender returned with drinks for all of them, exchanging Adam's for something new. "You got it. Extracted from Stage Seven fangs. It’s synthesized to turn you into a raving fucking lunatic. Not right away, though. A few drops and you’ll be off to a whole new world, no interstellar craft needed."

Adam took a swig from the new glass in front of him and grimaced at the taste. Much stronger than what he'd started off with, the concoction already punched him in the face and made him dumber than before. "I don't want any part of it," he said, waving off the drug. "I regret you even showing it to me. Looks awful."

"Pussy. Li took a hit before she came here, I gave her a vial before the party started. Look how big her eyes are when the telescreen's on her. Those aren't wide eyes of wonder at tonight's festivities."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Well, anyway." Ivan scoffed. "You're loads of fun. Now I've got to get back to the garage. Spence's giving out samples and I had a few of your mom's guests ask without really asking if we were carrying."

"Shocking."

“Yet they’ll be the first to cage you if they catch you with it. Funny shit.” Ivan paused to drain his glass in a few seconds, slamming it back down when he was done. "Ah. That's the ticket." He gestured at the bartender. "You're good for another two of those tonight, mate. Just ask. He'll know."

"Stellar." Adam glanced at Jonah, who was halfway through his drink as well. "You and your poison. Next you'll be saying you'd rather deal venom than practice legitimate medicine."

"Are you out of your mind?" Jonah scoffed. "Can you even imagine what sort of confidential goodies I'll find in the PHS secret stockroom? We’re talking S-level and beyond. This is only the beginning."

"That's...not the point of the job."

"It's a perk, at least, after I'm done saving countless lives."

"Only if no one knows what you consider a perk. Anyway." Adam rose from his seat. "I'm off to the dance floor. Can't be seen around a pair of losers like you for too long. Shit rubs off on you. Affects your reputation."

Jonah nodded. "Agreed. Get lost. People might think we're friends or something.”

“Terrible.”

“Yeah. Also—good luck, Pen. We're rooting for you. Just don't embarrass us more than you already have."

"It'll go fine."

"It will."

"Thanks."

Adam guzzled down his drink, bracing against the burn in his throat and ears, and paused, the strength knocking his senses about immediately. Glass clinked against the bar as he slammed the tumbler down, empty, and wiped his mouth with the back of his jacket sleeve. He eased through the mingling crowd off of the balcony and headed down towards the ballroom to find Talitha.

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