Girl gave Ten a look. Cocky as a street kid. But wary it was too. Not of him,
although he was already getting up. Not that she could sustain like. Battery
was running low now. Was already when she first set down her cue. And boy
was pissed indeed. But that look, boys and girls, that look was wary not of him
at all. But of herself like.
Ten was on his feet now, screaming. The plot was lost, boys and girls. The
plot was gone. Cut himself on the broken glass. Like paint splats on to the
wooden floor. Lunged at Kendra, backing away, hands up, but still with that
look. And boy was big. Intent on serious damage, yelling and not hearing his
cell bleep first warning then second. Like I said, the plot was gone. Way past
its expiry date.
Then predictable; defuser kicked in. Higher voltage than necessary like, but
bartender was pissed. Ten jerked epileptic. Some wasters I know set off their
own phone’s defuser, on low settings like for those dark an hectic beats. Even
rhythm can be induced, boys and girls. But it’s not maklik. Have to hack
SAPcom to sms the trigger signal to your phone. Worse now since the cops
privatised, upgraded the firewalls. That or tweak the hardware and then the
shocks could come random. Crisp you KFC.
Me, I defused my defuser. ‘Lectric and lethe don’t mix. Girlfriend in Sea
Point pulled the plug one time. Simunye. Cost ten kilos of sugar so’s it don’t
come cheap an if the tec don’t know what they’re doing, ha, crisp you KFC. Or
worse, Disconnect. Off the networks. Solitary confinement like. Not worth the
risk, boys and girls, unless you know the tec is razor.
So, Ten, jerking to imaginary beats. Bartender hit endcall finally and boy
collapsed to floor, panting. Jasmine knelt next to him. Ten’s phone still
crackling. VIMbots scuttling to clean up blood an glass and spilled liquor.
Other patrons were turning away now. Game over. Please infra another coin.
Kendra stood watching a second, then also turned away, walked up to the bar
where I was sitting.