Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse

THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH

XXXI

Mortimer had not known what to expect when Lars had ordered a sky chariot. He’d stood for a moment, openly curious, when he’d heard a whoosh and the creak of gears and pulleys. He’d looked up, seen the hot-pink gondola fly overhead, suspended from a thick cable. It had probably been looted from some nearby amusement park. It angled down and landed at a port forty feet away. They crowded in. Lars joined them, explaining first-time Platinum visitors were escorted personally for better service. The open-air gondola (sky bucket, Lars called it informally) was just big enough for the four of them.

So they floated, music wafting up to them, lights playing across the sky. Mortimer began to laugh, deep and throaty, holding his belly. Sheila smiled too, but looked at him curiously.

Bill raised an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

“I don’t know.” Mortimer kept laughing.

Lars smiled knowingly. “You’ve had a hard journey to get here?”

Mortimer wiped his eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Lars said, “First-time visitors often feel a distinct and sudden euphoria that manifests itself sometimes in an uncontrolled burst of laughter. Upon realizing you have miraculously come through certain death and horror, the relief stimulates an endorphin release in the brain, which facilitates the process. Typical after prolonged exposure to stress and trauma.”

“Whoa,” Bill said. “Were you a psychologist or something?”

“Tax auditor for the IRS.”

Mortimer leaned out of the sky bucket for a better look. They passed over a well-lit section of ground, roughly the size of a football field. Rows and rows of men pedaled stationary bicycles. They all wore black shorts and pink T-shirts, and a thick, steamy heat rose from the area.

The sight of the slave riders put a minor dent in Mortimer’s endorphin production, and his euphoria deflated. Mortimer wasn’t any kind of a historian, but he could think of no era in which the haves hadn’t benefited from the labor of the have-nots. Was there something about the fall of civilization that nudged a man toward socialism? Or were the concepts of “fair” and “unfair” simply less abstract when one observed hundreds of bike-pedaling slaves from the safety and comfort of a soaring sky bucket?

Still, and Mortimer hated admitting it to himself, a small part of him thought, Better them than me.

“We can take you directly into the club for seating,” Lars said. “But if I might make a suggestion, you and your party might like to check in to the hotel and clean up first.”

“Sounds good.”

Sheila said, “I won’t need a room. I’m here to sign on as a Joey Girl.”

The slightest possible twitch of anxiety passed across Lars’s face, but he hid it immediately, smiling instead. “Of course, madam. I’d be happy to drive you back to Human Resources.”

“I don’t have any money,” Mortimer said. “I was given membership in Spring City and was hoping to talk to somebody about credit. I probably need some new clothes.”

“I can attend to every detail,” Lars said.

Lars turned out to be a whirlwind of service and efficiency. He met Mortimer and Bill in their hotel suite after the two had showered, bringing with him Armageddon dollars from Mortimer’s account and fresh suits of clothing for both men.

“Lars, you’ve done a hell of a job,” Mortimer said. “Is tipping still in vogue this day and age?”

“Of course, sir. We’re civilized people here after all.”

Mortimer counted out twenty of the coins and dropped them into Lars’s palm. Lars tried to keep his face neutral, but it was clear he was having some kind of interior argument with himself.

“I feel it’s my duty to inform you, sir, that this amount is, in fact, equal to a month’s salary. And I’m considered senior staff.”

Mortimer tossed back a glass of wine, considered. “I appreciate your telling me the truth. I’ve been out of touch, and I still haven’t got the hang of the new economy. Let’s just say you keep that. And if there are any special favors we need but are too stupid to ask for, you can help us out, okay?”

Lars bowed slightly, had already slipped the coins into his jacket pocket. “It is my utmost delight to make your stay here at Joey Armageddon’s as comfortable as possible, and I assure you that your needs will be in my every thought.”

“Great. Now, if possible, my friend and I would like to see naked girls and get shit-faced.”

“Absolutely, sir. And may I say it will be our pleasure to clean up your vomit should you overindulge.”