Millennium Hamlet

Draft 19

June 07

Millennium Hamlet

I AM THAT I AM, I AM WHO?

It is the tragedy of a man who could not make up his mind

Lawrence Oliver introducing his film of Hamlet

Titus Adam

98 Glenarm Rd,

London E5 0na

07733003524

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

First Day

March 15th 2002

Where are you?

O gawd.

Toe beee…

To be…

That voice

Where are you?

Again.

Feel like shit.

Who are you?

Don’t listen.

Write.

To be?

Or not.

Read

Turn over the page.

I AM THAT I AM…at the beginning

Am I ?

And the End..

And I took my stand on the seashore

Then I saw a beast emerge from the sea: it had seven

heads and ten horns, with a coronet on each of its ten

horns, and its heads were marked with blasphemous

titles….

Is it?

Oh Gawd more bollocks, the man sighed. More copying. The window rattled again; a harsh wind outside buffeted the little house on the cliff. Trying to work it out…

Toby? To be? Toe Bee? Where are you? Was it from outside or inside his head? Toby had got used to hearing these voices in and around him, the choir to his Condition he called it, a product of the pressure on his brain; that brain,

3 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 did it hold the core, the essence, or was it in his heart and what was that exactly? You can think with your heart, same cells Tina’s Professor had said, but did that make any difference? And which one was the truth?

..There is a deep hole in your being like an abyss. You will

never succeed in filling that hole, because your needs are inexhaustible. You have to work around it so that gradually

the abyss closes…

Another book, another gay priest, another gap longing to be filled. Did his brain, or heart, hold anything original? The

Gap, he knew all about that now but it had taken him a lifetime to find out?

To be or not to be he mouthed, that is the question, to be or not to be and he listened for an answer. More wind, waves and the low murmuring of a song, muffled, as if coming through a wall beyond his own... I love you I love you with all my heart I love you... No, he didn’t, but why couldn’t he? …The minds battle to deceive itself with all its insidious tricks and strategies can be fully appreciated only by… More self help, Addiction and Grace spread on top of his own script Millennium Hamlet draft42, … those who play out, on an extreme scale, a drama that all human beings

4 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 experience more subtly and more covertly...scraps of quotes beneath 'For there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so'… O Gawd, did he have to, more self searching, couldn’t he just live?

Toe beeeee toobee toby where are you another voice buffeting around the cove hitting the cliff then coming back again towards her Whark Whark Whark.. the gulls urgent calling mixed with a womans cracked voice, Toe beeeee toobee black scarf flaying around her head, a silhouetted noose tightening her screams out to sea… toe bee…toe beee. Then she stopped, suddenly, turned back to the caves and started to call again tooe bee too into their gaping echoing mouths Where are you Toby? I am here

Where are you?

that is the…..? He was sick of the question, sick of the copying, his head a tinnitus vice continually squeezing and it felt like nothing was going to shift, it’s whine and he’d have to endure it forever? …tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune the quote didn’t help or take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. To die...To die. What did it mean, to die,

Whark Whark, Whark Whark… On the sheds corrugated roof gulls stood at the edge, a pair almost touching he wrote, it must be love he thought, his head cradled in his hand as he continued to scrawl Impossibility of Love. Living lie. Truth.

No history. Leave or not to? End of? He crossed that out and then pushing so hard on the pen it broke the foolscap.

It is as it is. Is not it. I am who is. I am that. I am who am, Who am I?... ‘Oh God’, and he screwed it up and threw it away onto the rest discarded.

Beyond the shed was the cliff and then the drop, foam and waves rushing back and forth over the rocks. A drop into the darkness, into the Abyss they might have called it when the house was built. God that was a shit movie; Dark Abyss

2 the last part he’d auditioned for before it had all gone tits up, couldn’t even get the cameo of the Evil Pissed Brit...

‘the Guys a loser’ ‘emotional problems you know’, ‘Forget it

Maggie he’s a lush..’ The memory blew a vacuum into his lower bowel and he felt them loosen. No, not now, hold On.

No, don’t. Not now, let it go, the memory, the past. No, hold on. Oh Shit. God.

A red streak high up on the horizon and a bundle on the walkers back, a baby perhaps. Where was his and he stared out across the cove. A flock of black birds was flying from promontory to promontory around the bay, jackdaws wheeling between caves like homeless bats trying to get a bearing. The rockface was laced with the white dots of birds nesting or beginning to, others gliding in helixes and one breaking away flapping frantically as if coming to land, losing all elegance in not quite making it, then swooping down again toward the charging changing sea? Why did the gulls sitting on the cliff make an almost perfect circle? He felt he was watching some secret mystery unfold ancient rituals ending Winter, a riddle the answer to which was almost within his grasp, the birds forming patterns predetermined by arrangements to each other and to the land and elements they were within, precise and exact, somehow vital in allowing the beginning of Spring.

Yes, no, he’d get this role right for sure though, end of. It would be perfect and he saw the body splayed there,

7 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 another made-for-TV movie quick and easily done. No, it wasn’t enough, he wanted no remnant of himself left, nothing, Empty Trash, then DELETE, all gone. It was impossible he knew now. ‘You can’t’, some IT geek had told him inside of Infinity, before the redundancy and collapse,

‘The hard disk retains the imprint of all information it has ever had’, he’d said, ‘always, forever, unless you had the right tool and special knowledge’ the Nerd had grinned,

‘that’s how we catch the peados and the cheats and believe me that’s how they’ll nail you at the finale’.

He didn’t want to think about it, the past, he had bigger things to think out. To be? to live at all, in fact that was the question, his life one big question mark now. One loss after another, a waste, the suicide would simply be a confirmation of that, the fact that his life had been already lost, Keep it simple they said. Surrender, that’s what they’d told him in the Crypt at the start of his so called Recovery, but he’d never known what they’d meant. Hand it over. Let go, Let God. But when he did want to, finally, he didn’t know how to, his mind just couldn’t, had to cling onto, instinctual. Thy will be done not mind, but all he’ d ended up with was no will at all, deep down inside him, to live.

Grace, they said, would come, like that time and his little bit of Peace, but he couldn’t keep hold of it and he couldn’t see how he could in this World. The World the Flesh and the

Devil they said and he thought he knew what the Devil was at least the voice on his shoulder that whine telling him that he didn’t deserve to, go on you piece of shit go on and he just couldn’t hear the other one he knew was there, Go well, the Advocate that was supposedly telling him that everything was going to be alright and in fact, he was totally loved. No, fuck it he was damned, it was too late and anyway this would be a real surrender anyway, the ultimate one, wouldn’t it?

..for who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressors wrong, the pangs of deprized love...Exactly and in fact, it was funny in the end, the Samaritans was what had done him in, the rejection of those wide-eyed people making him completely inarticulate, making him feel doomed to be bad. ‘Sorry we don’t feel it’s for you. Perhaps fundraising, use your celebrity past’. Bitch. ‘Tell me your worst emotional pain’ the smokers rasp of the little woman had insisted and he’d felt cheated that, after he had told her about Tina and all his dead babies, she was telling him

9 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 they didn’t want his help, he wasn’t even good enough to listen to the fuck ups of other people. ‘OK Nevermind’ he had grunted, ‘C’est la Vie’ he’d said leaving the ash tray room walls laden with self help. ‘Good Luck’ the smoking midget had chirruped, patting him hard on the back. Cunt.

..to sweat and grunt under a weary life but that the dread of something after death... Yeah, good luck, he thought, staring down at the waves flinging themselves against the breakwater. One step at a time they said, and it was, one step just stepping over with nothing to step onto, then down, down, a brief moment of flight almost into, and then..What?…the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns... Perhaps he’d see his life go before him first, perhaps that was what he was frightened of, those dreams, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil…there’s the rub, the full horror of it his life unlived, the calamity replayed, of waste imploding and then just before the final darkness…what then? Would he see the light behind the grey as her mother had hoped for before she’d gone? Doubt it.… and makes us rather bears those ills we know than fly to others we know not of… No, and Yes, No.

But how had it happened? He couldn’t make up his mind,

10 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 he needed to walk, to work it out, to ask, to pray? That’s what they’d’ said you should do, pray but how do you? The life, his life, all that promise was so heavy now, a weight that at last was going to pull him over, finally, to be or not…

Who gives a fuck?

All gone.

Trash.

Delete.

The rest is silence.

So there.

PART ONE

The Virtual Nightclub

1994-1998

But to worship our false selves is to worship nothing.

And the worship of nothing is hell.

Thomas Merton

15/3/94

Celebrity is a mask that eats the face..

John Updike

TICKLE AND TANIA, THE NEW RICH AND LIZ?

Compellingly real as Young Hitler in Shame

EXCITEMENT OVER NEW BRIT TALENT

The Man in the shiny Mac was remembering his old credits as he moved through the shadows avoiding the crowd looking at his reflection in the plate glass window of the art house cinema just off Leicester Square. It was getting dark and Soho was filling up with night people, draining itself of the visitors from the day. Pavements and stairwells were busy with characters trading roles and the air was full of purpose, relief and doubt.

THE NEW BURTON

Toby Tickle, Evening Standard Newcomer of the Year1984

for his electrifying portrayal of Hamlet, the most thrilling

debut since Richard Burtons…

To be or not to be...whether to be an actor twat or a salesman prat selling the suckers shite? ‘Excuse me’. Toby, lost in his muttering, had bumped into someone coming up the stairs. A full head of hair, fair and bright blues eyes smiling fresh out of LAMDA, the younger man asked politely

‘Sorry is this the way to the casting’? ‘Next floor mate’ snarled Toby. ‘Thanks a lot’ and the would-be star bounded upstairs. ‘Fucking actor’ snapped the balding has-been in his variegated Mac, ‘little lamb brought to the slaughter’ he added fumbling for his fags. He felt sick again.

SHAME..Tickle makes Young Adolf horribly attractive

The Indie Brit Flick a hit and then Hollywood, then the coke and the drinking, acting the headlines rather than the script, being the new Richard and Liz and he just couldn’t keep, or get it, up anymore and Tania had gone crazy, pregnant and mad

TnT- ANOTHER EXPLOSION

ABORTION RUMOURS

And it had got really scary…

PRO LIFE CHRISTIANS PICKETT PREMIERE

Ill, fucked, unable relegated to the Enquirer...

ANOTHER BABY ANOTHER TANTRUM

HAS TOBY LOST IT COMPLETELY?

Tickle who? Oh yeah, that guy. Gotta pass, he’s blown it, a goddam loser, gethiminrehabfast and the great new star,

Toby Tickle, burnt out before shining. Seven years ago, since the last part. Six months and you’re forgotten, even the booze ads had dried up, as he had, or tried to, thrice.

Toby couldn’t avoid catching a glimmer of his pallid face in one of the photographs going up to Spotlight, the Casting place, Alec Guinness, the young Alec Guinness so confident, self assured in his talent, Tobys face flabby against the great actors sharp black and white features. O Gawd he needed to get back to it, that sense of wholeness he once had, of being OK just there, alive, energy open ended: IAM

Nothing, Your Are everything I am you, so I am everything.. It was so clear back then, Rajnessh India and the 70s nothing foreign and the sadhus showing him how to clean himself , three dips in Benares and he didn’t even get

I’ve got to get it, it again.

Fuck Hamlet, fuck acting, he needed a proper job now, a real job, ‘Actor me? No longer, I’m saved’ he’d been saying since the last visit to the Crypt, but secretly he knew he didn’t have a choice. Like Adam, once the apple is bitten, once the applause leaves you wanting more, once an actor always an actor for there is no original self left to go back to, the innocence is shot and everything’s an act and that’s how it is, was, and forever shall be. O Gawd but what was he going to pretend to do next? He had Millennium Hamlet his biop, do a book if not the film, but did the World really need another rush rehab rehash and probably need a ghost to do it, maybe he should ask Dad. Oh Gawd, that fucker

Frederick, why did he cheat him and Mum too, the loan for the Costa development, the affair, the crashing of post

India ideal, no wonder the Old man drank himself to death and the son had tried to too..

‘Fuck that, writings a mugs game.Need something with some spondoolies attached something to get you ahead of the game, Tina kidz and all that shit’ grinned the bloke with

Mate, what with your top notch Bullshit talent, acting and that, selling and Ent' mixed, perfect’ Mr. Recruiter continued, ‘Virtual Reality, its the latest hippest cutting edge piece of arty motherfucker shit you’ve ever seen, it’ll blow your mind away – I’m telling you this fucker is the killer app’ and he ran out of breath, grinning and leant back into his chair to let the significant pause rest.

‘Any money yet?’ Toby had to ask, even though it made him look a bit desperate, ‘ I’ve got a number of investments still on the west coast’ he’d explained earlier although the only investment he actually had now was in Tina and she was beginning to get panicky Tickle having worked through to the limit of her American Express ‘Yeah heaps, loads of...

This is the big Millennium play innit it, the earlier you get in the bigger the pot at the end. Right? Simple really. All you’ve got to do is allow yourself to dream and believe it,

Faith mate that’s what’s is about, end of the rainbow and all that crap’ said Saul, slowing down and then adding, his voice an octave lower, ‘It’s a massive opportunity and I’m offering it to you, exclusively now.’ Another pause. ‘If you

17 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 got the cohonies of course.’ the bossman concluded, ‘The bollocks?’, putting his hands behind his head, newly dyed incisors shining brightly. ‘Look, if you cant make up your mind mate come in for a trial, two or three weeks and here mate, in the meantime take her some of this,’ Saul said, pressing something into Toby’s grip ‘Should make things cushty between you and the bird for now right anyhow, I know Tinas partial to a bit of spliff’ and Toby saw he was holding a little chunk of black hash. I shouldn’t he thought, it’d be a relapse technically, not very on the programme, and besides it’ll make me obliged to this dodgy flash git.

He’d told Gwen, his 12 step counselor at the rehab, that he’d keep away from temptation after the Crypt; clean house, clean environment, clean mind, but fuck it, it was for Tina anyhow. Either way Toby felt uneasy, don’t pick up the first fix and this guy was really pushy and Toby wondered what time the NA meeting at the Notre Dame next door was at?

‘For fucks sake’, a skinny skinhead poked round the door snarling, do you want to look at this thing or what?’ ‘Yeah sure Jase. Look, here’s the great Tickle you know, Toby.

What was it called? Spit, no Shame that was it wasn’t it?

Old Adolf, I mean when he was young, just a little shaven headed git with a chip on his shoulder if I recall it, not that

I’m making any comparison that is Jase’. The man at the door looked more like a concentration victim rather than dictator, accept for the unblinking self belief in his glaring eyes. ‘Either come and see it now or not’ Jason snapped, making it clear that everyone else was wasting his time, he being the only one who actually knew how any of this shit worked.

‘The idea’, said Jason a few minutes later, sat in the dark his head a huge silhouette on top of his tiny body in front of the PC Screen, ‘the idea is to create a space where you can interact. Look’ he commanded his spiky hands clicking on the mouse. It was an abstract of brightly coloured Dogs set in a 3d gallery. ‘Look now’ and the cursor clicked again and it changed into a little white hand as it went over one of the dogs, click, which then turned into a rabbit. Jasons snarl melded into a maniac smile as he dragged the rabbit onto one of the other dogs and then click, ‘Look now, quick’, the animal had started copulating like a see saw up and down and then there were twenty little dogs cum rabbits, mutants squirming, yapping and copulating simultaneously,

Jason almost frothing, ‘The end game is to fill up all the blank space. Who fills up the blank spaces fastest with the fucking wins but the Rule is that Dogs can only fuck one

Rabbit at a time fuckyfuckyfuck heh’ said the little man eyes brights with excitement ‘Who let the dogs out heh?’ folding up into a spitting sniggering again.

‘Why?’ asked Toby. ‘It’s a game innit’ said Jason suddenly loosing patience, like the Nazi with the retarded child in

Shame, ‘because its fucking FUN isn’t it’. ‘Oh. Is that it then? Interacting?’ ‘What?’ ‘The fucking, or the dragging, or both?’ tried Tickle. ‘Look, you cunt, it’s a game, that’s the point’ snapped Jason, ‘What about people?’ asked Tickle

‘What do you mean, People? snarled Jason as if insulted.

‘Oh you mean users?’ ‘Eer yeah Users’. User; the word was a bit brutal, Toby’d never heard it used like that before.

Thatcher had turned everyone into clients or customers or consumers but here with Jason the word Users somehow seemed to fit. ‘Well we’ll put them in later of course’ sighed

Jason, as if resigned to the irritating need for the replication of humans, which the technology hadn’t quite cracked, yet.

‘So Tickle,’ Jason went into interrogation mode, fed up with

20 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 having to talk to this guy who didn’t even know anything about video games, ‘Why are you here? What’s your role, what do you actually do?’ Jason insisted, wondering if the shister Saul was trying to shaft him somehow, ‘What is the added value you are bringing to the project?’ ‘Errr... this and that’ replied Toby ‘Err... I’d better go and catch Saul before he goes, err... Thanks, see you later’. Toby didn’t like talking about his career, or lack of it, particularly with the likes of Jason, obviously one of the Driven, on his

Highway to Stardom career clear, while Toby was down some slip road vaguely lost.

‘Oh Gawd… What the fuck did he do?’ he thought stuck there in the corridor ‘Failed actor. It was the worst label, the one he was desperately avoiding being stuck to, like being a nothing of a nothing in a nothing, nought, nil. Oh

Gawd, he really needed to be something, someone definite now, a proper person as Tina called it, something real not fantasy. ‘Eat Tickle for fucks sake, eat, get grounded’ Tina’d said when they’d first met, him pissed having not eaten for a year. ‘We gotta eat’ she’d said a year later, ‘go 9 to 5, get into business’ she had said, ‘not dodgy, straight, real, a jobjob PAYE a foundation so we can sort out where to go to

21 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 next’. Yes, the comeback plan, Millennium Hamlet the screenplay in development, a story about a celebritys triumph over addiction depression and disgrace, Toby

Tickle, writer, director, star and.. ‘Yeah right Toby but we gotta eat, a place for the Baby’ ‘OK’, he’d promised

‘Something real, solid, believe me I will’ and looking down he saw his shoes were fucked again, the sole breaking away beneath, leaving two of his toes almost exposed.

Through the window 8000 feet up, 8000 miles Westward, a

Hawk was moving in a slow circle high in the blue lightening as the sun began to break the horizons dark. A jet stream sliced open the sky, its vapour trail becoming a high cloud smudging pink behind it. A rattlesnake stirred in the undergrowth of the mountain scrub barely visible against the stone. A Colorado Shrew scurried about between holes moving as fast as a blur. High up the eagle saw it, a flick of red in the green, but before it could dive the little rodent had disappeared, swallowed by the snake in a single strike of its neck. No scuffle, no cry came from behind the dark tinted window, the only sound being the faint whirr of the

Intel hard drive and a click of a Mouse nosing through the

‘Twenty five years from now, when you look out of the window, what you see may be 5000 miles and six time- zones away’ It was April 1st 1994 and two weeks later Toby was reading a draft of some US professors take on Being

Digital. Research he called it, although it felt like being in limbo, at least it got Tina off his back and he had a nice big offices with the London skyline spread before him which made him feel he’d arrived in the real world, new executive developing Virtual Reality at the cutting edge at the forefront, the Millennium blah blah or whatever Saul his sort of boss kept saying...

‘Hello there, Saul said to give you this’, a chirrupy voice said. It was a short big bosomed women all neat smiling with a brunette bob coming up really close to him so he couldn’t help looking into the darkening of crevice in her chest. ‘I’m Janice, by the way Saul’s PA and general dogsbody you know. Just let me know if you need anything eh. Bye for now’ and Toby nodded not wanting to feel as shy as he did, as it didn’t fit the part of the super confident

23 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 multimedia exec. It felt good really, the suite, the secretary, the research, but he wasn’t sure whether to take the job or not as it meant putting Millennium Hamlet on hold, his comeback but at least Tina would be happy which meant she’d keep him sweet, you know fuckyfuck, the final fix he knew he had to keep. He must decide very soon, a week before end of trial period, and no money. To be a businessman or not to be a.. ? He resumed what he thought was a senior media guru like pose and made the important decision to have another cigarette, or maybe even a spliff. No, just …

‘You were in Scratch weren’t you, I mean Shame,’ Janice blushing head was inside the door again, ‘it was you wasn’t it? My friend Denise loved that. Really fancied you she did.

Don’t know if she’s got a thing about Nazis but she’s sure living with one now. I liked it too, bit scary though’ and then she added coyly ‘Sorry to hear about the problems.

Read it in The Screws but we all know most of its all made up.’ she said consoling, and then, after a breath she asked directly ‘ So why did you stop then, acting I mean?’ O Gawd

Toby felt angry, too resentful that his cover had been blown here to answer and Janice, seeing his discomfort, quickly

24 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 backed off. ‘Don’t worry; it will sort itself out’ she said with a real chirpy smile which despite himself, cheered Toby up a little bit. ‘Doesn’t matter in the end does it? Cheery byeee...ooh I almost forget’ said Janice laughing ‘Saul told me to give you this Tar Tar’

MORTON THOMAS VENTURE DEVELOPMENT –

Interactive Media Next Generation Entertainment

Medium.

The dossier had the title stamped on each page with a

HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL below in a box, in faint red caps. It made Toby feel quite important strangely, a real live bank document the secret plan from another, more real world and Toby stroked its mock velvet cover. Wall St, leaning casually against one of the Corinthian columns for

CNNWORLD BIZ TV ‘Yah I’ve moved into production, very avant-garde, no more film,, create entire immersive realities -now instead’ Ahh, America, Money, Empire; maybe with the big banks behind it like MT, this Virtual

Nightclub thing wasn’t dodgy at all despite Saul and these crisp white papers still hot from the photocopier were going to be his green card to solvency back to the high table of

AA credit rating, redeemed at last, back from the abyss of debt and being poor? Ha-ha, that’s right Debbie VR is the

One business cycle is defined as a period of economic decline or a contraction followed by a

longer expansionary period.

These cycles occur at regular intervals in a market economy as the rate of real economic growth exceeds the growth in the potential of the economy to produce goods and services. Recessions may also occur or be prolonged as consumers and producers become more pessimistic about future economic events. This pessimism may lead to a decline in both consumption and investment spending resulting in an increase in inventory levels.

Some economists believe that business cycles are combinations of 50 year "long waves" of economic activity and 7 year short waves occurring from short-term over expansion as defined above. These long waves or Kondratieff waves occur due to the presence and eventual saturation of broad investment opportunities.

The fifty to fifty-four year cycle of catastrophe and renewal had been known and observed by the Mayans of Central America and independently by the ancient Israelites. Kondratieff's observations represent the modern expression of this cycle, which postulates that capitalist countries tend to follow the long rhythmic pattern of approximately half a century.

And it made him feel good, yes he was coming out of his trough expanding moving again towards a peak... Ha-ha, that’s right Debbie, we are definitely in the Kondratieff expansionary stage...

TICKLE THE COMEBACK KING

PIONEERING ENTREPRENEUR INVENTOR OF NEW REALITY

TOBY REDEEMED AGAIN

Toby turned away from his imaginary interview and looked out the window at the London Skyline. The Post Office, no it was the BT Tower now and lots of big cranes to the right, the City expanding over in the East. The Big Bang had happened and now it was the time for the Millennium Play.

The Americans had come and more were on their way, no more jolly good chap but fast-mouthed dealers from New

Jersey aped by the Essex Gang and here he was in his own huge office watching over them, getting ready to play the

Big Boys game. It felt good, like the beginning of getting a new part in the old days. ‘…we expect that the uptake of the new digital platform to be explosive, growing exponentially…’ Tickle mouthed the words from the Morton

Thomas report his new script, patrician, confident, assured.

IT, information technology, (Toby had always wondered what it meant) has an installed base of PCs beyond 50% per capita in developed economies and now the mission, the bank told him, is to make the key application to stimulate uptake of the new multimedia interactive entertainment platform on a mass scale, as the talkies did for movies and movies did for TV, the catalyst for mass market penetration, the so called Killer Application, the

Killer App…‘the fucker was what Saul called it and like Users it didn’t sound very nice, what it was going to do to the

Users, the people and Toby suddenly became aware of a jet roaring above him closer it seemed than it should be and he felt all cold, shivering and oddly alone.

Fly Higher with BarAir… the smoke melded with the apricot grey of the Soho sunset as a few minutes later Toby looked out from the office balcony at the huge airship floating above the City. Shit he shouldn’t have, but it was only a little spliff. The red balloon was Barry Reddots, the superhero businessman, Bartones CEO the great salesman of the cheesy grin. Selling, even the idea of it made Tickle feel queasy. Was this it then? the real world, the real deal, the real Real, the place of jobjobs and PAYE. It felt weird.

Odd, but it must be real he told himself, because Money said so and for the first time for long time he sensed he was becoming part of something much larger than himself, the Money was deadly serious and this Virtual Reality must be real because the Money said so and it felt that the

Money beginning to talk directly to him.

Honesty is Key to recovery Gwen always said so, and selling was not too good for that, but fuck, he needed the money quick in order to nail Tina down with a Baby and a house and then with enough in the bank he could get back on with

Millennium Hamlet and his great Comeback Plan. Yeah, maybe the Killer App would do it for him. ‘… the interactive media market is projected to be worth 3 trillion dollars by the year 2000’. Kondriefff said it was all Up and Down, like his whole life really, a roller coaster and he needed something to get him back on top, he needed to follow the

Money then get out ahead, he needed to buy some time to get better again and Toby took another a big drag of his

Spliff and stared down into Lisle Street as the sky turned red as if the Bartone Balloon had smudged onto the gathering grey. Above the restaurants right along the street

29 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 on the top floors he could see Mahjong games going on, like silent movies, men making violent gestures but none of their screeches could be heard and Tickle almost smelt the sweat and old frying fat as they played all intent focused on the gambling blocks before them. Just get a proper job a job, job, 9 to 5 that’s what’s a family needs, Tinas nagging voice was ricocheting above the traffic prodding him to say

No to Saul, or was it Yes? He needed to decide but he couldn’t, he didn’t trust himself one way or the other.

A belly floating in a hot sea, a white dot in the deep purple a gentle sloshing of waters amid suspicions of a shark... Did he fall? Was he pushed? Or did he just launch himself into waters, free at last? ‘Remember my lads, you only loose your confidence once’, Tickle couldn’t get it out of his head

Maxwells edict heard 30 years ago on that Seventies School

Speech day. Everyone had been kept waiting in the blustery wind particularly chill for May and then the helicopter arriving, thick pin stripes bluff and beery, ‘Remember my lads; you only loose your confidence once’. Was it true?

Toby was terrified it was. He hadn’t got his back despite the

Rehab, No, he hadn’t really ‘recovered’ he just felt ashamed; the spiritual shit of the Programme Be true to

30 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 thine self just made him feel frightened, let go and let god, that’s all very well but you try it when you’ve got fuck all to fall back on. No, he needed some fucking Money first, get his defenses in place before exposing himself, he needed to get on back into the Game, the hustle and the bustle of doing something more defined, a target to aim at, a goal to get to and suddenly certain, or forcing himself to be so,

Gwens honesty suspended Toby took another big lungful of

Hash. Fuck Recovery, fuck God and fuck it, Ill sign up to this shit, he whispered to himself, get into this Virtual

Reality, be a pioneer, believe the dream, have the bollocks and make a new life. Yeah, it was time for a real change, a really new act, the Big Bang Big Man businessman, anything was possible he told himself, it was the beginning of a new era a new film a new life and trying to look cool a al Michael Douglas he flicked back his hair he didn’t have and flicked away the butt end of the spliff spiraling down like a sycamore seed, narrowly missing a Chinese schoolgirl hurrying home before it hit the ground. Yeah that’s it- here we go, this is it, it in IT,

TOBY TICKLE – BACK FROM THE DEAD

The Virtual Reality King

I hold this to the highest task of a bond between two

people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of

the other

Rilke

‘Come little Jacko, where are you’ the rabbit had got out and Tina was looking under the sofa a piece of lettuce in her hand. ‘Come on Jacko’, she was worried the cat would have a go at him. ‘The poor thing was frightened, that’s why it bit you,’ she’d told Toby that morning, ‘it’s scared, it’s in an alien place, it just needs you to be gentle’, but

Tickle was always horrible to it, ‘I want to strangle the little fucker,’ and Tina wondered if it was because he didn’t want anything around that deflected attention away from himself.

Tossing actors, so self centred obsessed with themselves, no room for any other unless on a high from loosing themselves in somebody else; it had taken her an age to suss that, but where did that leave her choice to have a baby with him, the Prat.

It filled her will fear, the Baby because already in her mind it was loss. The abortion, then the miscarriage with Lee her first one had left her stranded for years, so circumspect about even going near it again. She hadn’t wanted to get one of the first one, but he’d insisted, we haven’t got the dash, and he’d sad the same the second but she’d said fuck him and then what. O gawd it still made her feel sick, the loss the nothingness even though it was only after a month, the expectation and the hope... And now Toby, she’d almost interviewed him about it, for the job yeah yeah sure he’d said, but can we go to bed and practice all charm and bravado, but did he really, and since sober he wondered if the guy had a screw loose anyway saying he wanted a baby just not to loose her and face up to himself alone. He was a big baby himself, couldn’t face up to his feeling s and the inadequacies his addictions had left him with that he spent most of his time getting away from it in his own head.

Projection, just after Perversion, her new book, A-Z to

Counseling had told her that’s what it was - ‘a psychological defense mechanism whereby one "projects" one's own undesirable thoughts, motivations, desires, feelings—onto someone else’. He said he wanted one, a baby, but perhaps

33 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 it was the idea of it rather than the actual thing, he couldn’t even take responsibility for himself, spoilt brat. Wanker, thats what he was, always creating his own drama even if it strangled himself, like that silly MP had done yesterday on the News. A sexual partner may or may not be involved in the act, however, if one is excluded the practice can be referred to as autoerotic asphyxiation or scarfing the book had said. For Toby it seemed work, mortgage, bills everything was an inconvenience for him, rather than the point of living-it was life for fucks sake, as she kept on telling him until her voice was sore.

Tina felt herself stiffen. She could do it, Life, by herself, both the career and the Baby and she didn’t need a fucking bloke. Thatcher had taught her that and Mum doing it all single-handed thirty years previously after Dad had fucked off, in the end self reliance was the only way, without sloppy Dads about. But no, Tina was damned if she was going to put her child through that, all that she had lacked.

No, she was going to have a proper Sunday Supplement nuclear family whatever happens, Day in the Life of,

Breakfast lunch and tea she was going to make sure it was a loving environment for the Baby to grow up in, even if it killed her and Tickle too. ‘Jacko Come Darling’ the rabbits

34 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 wide eye darted between the bush and the pen; if only she could get around behind him, she could then get a hand underneath and slide it under the net. But it was exhausting her, all this pushing and the pulling the ambivalence inside her no answer to it the big question, to have one or not to have one, with Toby or not with Tickle, and Tina sighed. Most of her just wanted to let go, become a placid cow, get pregnant, have Baby; but the other, the single woman who’d spent ten years battling up the TV world, jaw taut with the smiling being nice to needy men, always having to overachieve to be taken seriously, made it difficult for her to let go, to relax. It was too scary, particularly with a nutter like Toby as the person you had to trust in order to do so. O Gawd.

Why did she go for him in the first place? Because he was like Dad? Mad. Or was it because she could control him, he was so messed up when they’d met pissed, just out of

Rehab? Or was she, as Depression for Beginners told her, striving to reproduce the atmosphere of her childhood anxiety, the atmosphere of anger and mistrust: Dad late with the rent again, Mum doing overtime at the hospital,

Dad missing another visit. Women who love too much,

Louise Hay, A Road Less Traveled, all those tossing therapy words were doing her head in, it was far easier with

TheThe, a cuppa tea and a spliff. Shit, she just wanted a fag now, fuck this fucking getting pregnant lark and she found herself wishing you could go and buy one at a shop,

Tescos Premium, paying extra to have it drained of any fuckedup Daddy genes.

Where the fuck was he anyway Toby? Git, the food was getting dry. And where was Jacko? Sweet little thing, it hadn’t done any harm to anyone and it was so scared because it couldn’t find anywhere to hide. ‘Jacko, come on,

Jacko come on darling come to Mu…’ … but she stopped herself saying the M word, it might be bad luck to try/

Where the fuck is the … she said instead.

Toby was wedged on the No 38 bus heaving itself around

Old Street roundabout reading his new script. IT revenues will rise exponentially year on year at a 34.3% rate within which the Multimedia sector will represents the fastest growing sector from 13-24% over the 5 year projectile….; the MT Bank Document made Toby feel better, richer even though he hadn’t even agreed with Saul how much he was

36 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 going to get. Orange in the mouth MP latest. Suicide ruled out his neighbours Evening Standard headline hid his worried face from himself in the bus window; he was late and Tina would be angry, again, inadequate she just made him feel bad. Two huge metal structures, a pair of giant white horns, were being hauled into place either side of a giant Poster Screen suspended in the middle, some new sort of advertising thing. Toby turned back to the report the

Multimedia sector represents the fastest growing IT sector exponentially expanding 13-24% over the 5 year projectile

.. It sounded like being violently sick but Toby knew it meant Big Money and he found himself repeating the phrases to himself as if to make them happen.

Irritatingly large laughter was coming from the front of the bus, two blokes joshing with each other, one a big blond, a broken nose and square set jaw, slapping down into the palm of his big hand one point after another, his shoulders jiggling as if limbering up for a fight; the other, smaller and darker, listening intently as his big friend went jabbering on. ‘Music for grannies that’s what Si said and sure fire no image damage Ray, that’s what Simon says’ ‘Oh wow yeah fer granniz leek ficking greet if Simon sees’ the other

37 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 furiously nodding his head. ‘Fucking actors’ snarled Toby as they jumped off by Centrepoint, like addicts he could always tell them, actors, apart in a crowd; perhaps it was the uncertain look in their unblinking eyes but these two made Tickle sick, they were so fucking sure of themselves, full of it, Confidence, the Maxwell Ring of ... ding…It made him feel weak, longing for a fag and he tightened his grip on the bank document, as if it was some sort of weapon from the secret police.

‘So how was that?’ she said, looking at him half an hour later with a slight tightness around the mouth, not wanting to tick him off for being late. ‘Oh OK’ said Toby, immediately stiffening, feeling anyway he was under attack.

‘Sorry the rain made the bus late’, ‘So how was it?’ she repeated, ‘No cash for 3 months remember’ said Tina flatly.

‘Looks a good opportunity, Virtual Reality’ Toby said putting on a businessman voice, ‘It’s the future isn’t it?’ trying to imitate the boys ding ring of, confidently smiling. ‘What about the fucking money?’ Tina now demanded ‘It’s not going to be another bullshit thing is it, like the Di's

Magazine bollocks is it?’ she pointedly asked.

Fuck her, Toby thought, she always trying to undercut me, why couldn’t she just trust me a little more, then he’d be more confident. And why did she have to bring up the Di crap again? After the second Rehab, Sammy Solace, who’d been in for an eating disorder, had persuaded him to sell ads in her upmarket Mag Di’s Finest. She was an Exigenesis clone, very 80s with confidence of steel and had got him into ad sales for Dianas Finest: for those who deserve the best and one of Her Royal Highness’s people recommended we get in touch with you… It was just lying though, grabbing quids, conning gullible marketing people that Di had actually endorsed it with the 10,000 copies supposedly going to the smartest people being actually 100 going to

Samanthas smarmy PR friends. Toby had got soon addicted to the selling and the lying, at it around the clock around the globe spouting the same sales script. ‘You have been specially selected, Her Royal High.. .’ Went tits up in the ‘91 recession and he’d ended up back on the C and H unable even to pick up a phone. No more selling he’d told himself, he was sold out he told himself and here he was fours years later about to do the same thing again. Yeah,

Fuck her Toby thought, she always tried to undercut him, why couldn’t she just trust him a little more, then he’d be more confident and again the blame began to flare up

Millennium Hamlet, make a real fresh start of it, get a new agent and …Oh Gawd, he didn’t want another fight, it might kick off another one of his alcoholic fits… Oh Gawd, Toby could sense his blood was beginning to heat up, a brewing he called it, an oncoming rage, uncertain if it was a ritual catharsis for the ex actor, as the sun went down, or the old habits of the roaring drunk screaming in blackout, emotions totally out of control.

Shit, he shouldn’t let her see him at the dope again, but she could smoke of course, even if she did Bitch still, it was

OK for her and being stuck in between made him feel like a trapped Ape. Bitch, it was Tina who was the one who got him in the end, videoing him in one of his fits frothing at the mouth screaming at her in blackout like some sort of trapped psycho, even he had to admit that he’d lost himself to the drink then and so had gone back inside the Crypt.

Did he hate her so much now sometimes because she was the one who’d finally made him stop, the one who’d taken away his denial and the last chance for oblivion? Bitch, or just because she was always on his case? ‘Get real Toby

Easy does it. One step at a time. Feel the breath cold in the nostrils coming in and warming then going out…Toby tried to breathe deeply and sat down on the back doorstep looking out to the scrubby bit of lawn. The rabbit, the fucking baby replacement, was sat there nibbling. Shit, he’d lifted the netting this morning so the thing might piss off.

The rabbit really was a nasty little fucker; looked all nice and fluffly on the outside, an Australian Dwarf so sweet in the shop, but all sinew and bone when you touched it and it bit. He felt all tense and wanted a drink, but he knew he couldn’t and took a huge lungful of spliff, knowing that to avoid the anger he’d better try and get some sex tonight, to take away the edge. Yeah fuck it, he had better do this interactive thing, the Virtual Nightclub, just to get her off his back and without joy he looked up into the dusty dark of the London sky, tinged with the orange of electricity and sighed, Oh Gawd. Why?

Mountain peaks rolled across the horizon, all the mist had lifted from the valleys bottoms and the sun was rising high towards. He owned all this, and the valley beyond but it was the peaks, the mountains themselves, that he yearned for and Molane felt his lower stomach twitch. That acquisition was beyond even him they said, ‘It’s the Rockies for Christ sake John’, but that’s what the other people always said; they had said it about G T &T, the WorldTel deal and US TV, all of his big acquisitions for Freedom

Corporation Inc. Oh they of little faith. What you believe happens. It has been so decreed. It’s all in the Plan, his

Plan and his 3.5 billion dollar net worth Forbes estimate confirmed it worked. OK only 4th in the league but hey he knew he was more liquid than both Queen Liz and Bill combined, which was the Gods honest proof that what he said was the truth.

Yes for sure, she was, the bird was smiling back at his reflection from the other side of the carriage? Yes, she was, a blond with glasses and a pencil skirt and it was a right come on. Nice. Money, he must be beginning to smell of it again, he knew that was what it was about. Saul was smiling at his oily reflection in the carriage window of the

7.56 to Blackheath asking himself if the scraggly mop of black hair was a bit too shiny wondering if it was from the rain, grease, or simply a trick of the light. Should he get it cut shorter? He was wanting to combine the business look, the neat organized facial hair, with the De la Soul happening hip. Shakara just didn’t get it, his sort of ex- wife, the look, and had scarpered soon after the profile in the Sunday Times Magazine, Life in the Day of the New

Blacks Special Issue, him and her standing before the bay window overlooking the Heath. For some reason which was beyond him for Shak it had been the final straw ‘I’m not your property arsehole’ and she’d left. Sauls stomach tightened. She’d left with the kid and the family was broken; it was the one thing he didn’t want, to end up being like his Dad, alone and guilty, the ex and the kid in the council flat and him with three empty bedrooms making love to himself in front of his new MUD satellite TV box. But yeah , the blond was definitely on the pull and Saul couldn’t believe his luck. It was coming together, his Plan, the

Package was almost all in place, now it was about getting the Brands behind the Nightclub and the rest would follow.

That was the Way, you’ve just to push on continually aspiring to the Vision that’s what Garthside had said at the

Seminar, be ready for the opportunities, Awaken the Giant

Within and yes she definitely was giving him the eye, the come on, wasn’t she? I’ll show her my giant without and

Saul got up and followed the pinstripe blonde through the automatic sliding door into the corridor and the empty toilet.

The mountains were National Park registered fixed in the

Federal law but so, these things are there to be changed,

America was still being invented and America was inventing the world according to its own Plan too and he had people in Washington beginning to work on Project Elysium

Business Plan 324b. Molane breathed deeply taking in the purity of the Colorado Mountain air, additionally filtered through the Freedom carbonated aircon system, Purer than the Pure he liked to say, although very rarely was there anybody to say it to, here his eerie, even the PAs weren’t allowed inside. Here he sat and saw the seasons change, the days turn from pink to blue to red, and here he knew that he had dominion over all he surveyed, almost. DC would be his first call of the Day he decided and John turned back to one of the helpful testimonies to his prophecy that he’d had one of his banks, Morton Thomas

Int, chronicle and so explain to everybody else what was the Real to be.

------

Technology is best defined as the production of the

superfluous

Ortega y Gasset

‘...music, mags, TV, slam dunk, DJs, art and culture, scenes, retro futuristic, events, happenings Soho Virtual....

Club space, each room a different music a different time,

Headspace, interacting with a million new ideas and

Freespace showcase for new talent open 24/7 365 you can get it anywhere anytime, like Martini and interacting between each other the users becoming creators creating their own content subverting the socio industrial constructs the media conglomerates that control our world our minds

Freespace breaking down boundaries and limitations it’s truly democratic, its the medium for a new millennium a new age, Man, Aquarius isn’t it? ’ Computers are stupid.

They have only answers that’s what Picasso said wasn’t it,

April Fools Day again, a year later in 1995 and Tickle was wondering if anything had happened at all just dreaming, remember soixante huit, the French clown teacher ten years previous mon dieu wake up shaking him by the shoulders and now stoned again lying on the carpet

46 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 listening to one of his new mates blather on. Exema, button nose and bulging black eyes made Guy look like a baboon foraging for all that was out there in the new boundless growth of yoof culture. ‘Terence McKenna doing readings

Laps of the Gods at Zen, that mushrooms stuff, we could put that in maybe sample it with the Doors, Dr Suckowski’s really good at that, does it every Thursday at the Rat

Pack... I'll call him...’ ‘Who’s he, Suck er..?’ ‘Well, Dr

Jonathan Smith actually but Dr S that’s his DJ handle, he’s a friend’ Tickle took another drag on the spliff and lay back again trying to get his brain to rest. Easy listening, Pop art, sixties relics, 70s electronica, Guys hide above the meat packers in Berwick market was stuffed with culture, recorded, printed, stamped, videoed sampled or neatly arranged as typed spines prominently displayed on the shelved walls. It was the last 30 years worth they were trying to transmute it all into the digital future of the Virtual

Nightclub and it made Toby feel sick, most of his life being squeezed into the ones and zeros of binary code making it all really, digitally, just the same. Remember soixante huit what did the frog clown mean?

‘Yeah we can get Timothy Leary, says he was going to die live on the Internet, he says Interactive is the new LSD’ enthused Guy ‘What’s the Internet’ asked Tickle sort of rhetorically thinking he should have known where it was at.

‘It’s the path to Freedom Man’ Guy said suddenly serious,

‘It’s the means Man, it’s the means by which to unite to subvert the monoliths of power, create and communicate together uninterrupted…’ ‘Err yeah but’ backtracked Toby,

‘I mean how’s it fit with the Club? The Money?’,

‘Democracy and Creativity mixed, that’s the point of

Freespace, and Headspace really, ’ said Guys eyes widening, ‘you see all the Heads are talking to each other, interacting on line generating even more ideas, ideas and dreams’ ‘Like the phone and TV together?’ said Toby timidly and the whites of Guy eyes became even redder ‘No, yes, it’s the whole mind man, the whole mind of Man, in the machine, the mirror being technology, face to face man,

Mano a mano, eh? Yeah?’ the baboon said trailing off unexplaining.

‘Anyone want some tea?’ it was Me, Guys girlfriend. She smiled sweetly, curving her body against the doorframe slightly fluttering with her eyes. ‘Yeah thanks’ said Toby,

48 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 who always got grumpy when sexy girls came too close. It had been going on all day. Guy didn’t seem to mind. Her sharp features, close cropped hair and the way she used her sex spelt Ambition and Toby could see she was under the delusion that he, ex–celeb and the Executive Content and Drama Producer VNC, (Toby had recently promoted himself with a new title though they was no salary to talk about), could somehow help her get to where she was trying to get to a little bit faster. Out of the corner of his eye now he saw Guy and Me, Thatchers babies whispering like hyenas and Tickle decided he’d had enough and needed to go before the dope and its paranoia really kicked in deep. He broke out of the darkness into Berwick Street

Market, lawless airs billowing about in the breeze. It was

March, wasn’t it? No. April? Time had started to disappear; he was spending so much of his in front of shining screens he was beginning to lose touch with the seasons. A Spring day anyway wasn’t it and he stuck his head down into his shoulders pivotal, ready for the crowd.

Virtual Reality, the Internet, Interactivity, it was just another space to be in wasn’t it, to try to be what you wanted to be and he rushed past D-construction, the hip

80’s fashion shop where downstairs Lee, Tina’s old boyfriend, had had his salon before going off to Spain. It always gave him the heeby jeebies, reminding him of the failure of his being hip, the beginning of the drink and sloppy shame his life became swallowed up in. It was ten years ago, a decade Lee and Tina Prince and Princess of

80’s Soho; the Blitz, Punk, New Romantics while Toby was some Shakespeare ponce then in LA getting wasted. Lee was an old friend of Sauls, another Sarf London boy, that was the connection; maybe it was a set up Toby suddenly thought, the whole job thing, taken for a ride first by Tina as cover for the continued affair with Lee, who’d got him acting the knobby estate agent when he’d sold his salon to

Toni and Guy, that evening of the poll tax riot, fires in

Golden Square and Sam, Lees mate from Happy Tuesdays, throwing a dustbin into the shop window with a fuck the capitalist pigs scream, then Lee doing a runner to Barca, with posh girlfriend and a suitcase of cash, nice, result, and forgot to the Ponce the commission and now Toby had been passed onto Saul, the godfather of the Soho’s pisstake, ‘lets take the sucker for another ride’, I need a posh talker to front the VR scam. Yeah, Tobys fear now working itself into a frenzy, he was just a clone, for Tina, a second best after

Lee, being used to get her own back and have a baby like

Lee had just had? Were they still one or did she have her true loves sperm stored? Tooe bee toe bee toby where are you? Shit, Toby told himself, paranoia he’d be getting panic attack if he didn’t watch out. Hey ho, joys of recovery - he really shouldn’t have smoked that second spliff.

‘Come on, little bit of fucky fucky eh ducky, come on inside for a little lovin’ darling’ grimaced a peroxide blonde, dark rings around her eyes stuffed tight into a pink plastic mini, wrapped around her hips and Toby veered over to the other side everything fizzing. ‘Yo Tickle. Toe bee Tickle Toby’ Oh

God, not the voices again. No, t was Sheffield, Tinas sisters

Clyts boyfriend. ‘You alright?’ he grinned leaning against the doorway of his shop. There was a big A with a circle around it sprayed into the window, ‘Cool init like’. Tickle was always disorientated by Sheffields voice, cockney stirred in with broad Yorkshire, stretched by West End patter over thick Moroccan throat. ‘Here look’ Sheffield brought out the shoe, a sort of cross between a trainer and a baseball boot the little A stamped onto the toes.

‘Anesthetic, its going to be bigger than Zeus, I tell you’ he said half joking ‘We’re going to get it pushed into the Face and they want to do a spread in Identity. I’m going to see

51 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the buyer for Boy later on’ he said, sucking deeply on the fizzing Marlboro Red. ‘But I tell you Nathan, my fuckin partner, he’s getting on my tits. It was my idea this whole brand A thing and he’s going off spouting that the whole idea was his and all he’s done is put some money in,

Fuckin’ Cunt’ . Toby nodded and although he hadn’t really got a clue about fashion, he sensed street cred and asked

Sheffield if he wanted to put the shop into the Virtual

Nightclub. That was Tobys job; getting in trendy ‘yoof’ things, street culture and advertising on top of it, big brands trading off the hip happeningness of the little ones,

Coke on Snapple, Zeus on Anesthetic, the drama bit of his title would have to come later, the Money was Key before all else ‘get the spondoolies in or we’re fucked’ had said

Saul, ‘We haven’t had any for 2 years, how are we going to eat?’. ‘Yeah sure’ for Sheffield it seemed the promise of publicity was like another adrenalin drug. ‘Come round later and see Clyt, we’ll do some stuff, we know you like a bit of how’s yer father’ and Sheffield winked ‘We haven’t forgot the Bun, 20 lines and 5 prozzies Another Night Naughty for

Tickle, Clyts got it blown up on the wall’, but Toby was already retreating laughing ‘Maybe, but that was 10 years ago now’ he waved back, rolling down the alley towards the

Toby gulped for air as he rushed into Old Compton overly stoned. It was early evening and the place was a jittery mix of worn-out workers making for home, first night meets, the bouncers, croupiers and pimps commuting to their posts. Everything was in slow motion, out of joint, nothing quite jelling, like the jerky video he’d seen in the Virtual

Nightclub the next game after the fucking rabbits and dogs.

Toby felt like he was the POV star in his own Cyberspace road movie, Tron in Soho, Necroponce, Hash Crash.. Was this going to be the extent of the Toby Tickle’s comeback gig? What had happened to Millennium Hamlet? He hadn’t touched it for months, a year? Where had his time gone?

…No, oh no not me. For what is a man, what has he got?...

Musak filled the Mondo 2000 café, one of the new West

Coast Lounges all sofas and armchairs. If not himself, then he has naught… It was Frank Sinatra, crooning..

…To say the things he truly feels…

There were a few couples slouched about and a boy in the

corner tapping into a PC.

…And not the words of one who kneels.

The record shows I took the blows

And did it my way!...

Hi, my names Longleat, how are you?’. Longleat looked like a black panda, wrapped in a white sheepskin coat, a bit

Hey big spender Shirley Bassey style. ‘Yeah Strike said you were doing the Virtual Nightclub, helping with the advertising.’ Tickle felt his throat tightening, ‘Content and

Drama Consultant I mean Executive Producer actually’.

.. Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew. When I bit

off more than I could chew..

Toby’s mouth was bitter thick coated now and he was desperate for something to wash away the old smoke. ‘Two cappuccinos please, and Ill have a carrot cake as well’

‘AHHRM, could I have a chocolate gateaux, Should I? I’m not sure if I should, AHHRM OK’. Longleat was a bit chubby but very attractive, his voice almost a soprano going up and down, asexual but loving at the same time. ‘So are you getting involved in the Club?’ Tickle asked wanting to get whatever the bloke had off him quick and then leave. ‘Look,

Tickle, the thing is,’ Longleat said huffily irritated the man before him wasn’t more awed, ‘something you should know

54 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 straightaway is that this club thing for me is just a sideshow, I’m going to be the worlds first truly digital Artist, clubs labels, films, fashion I can create all this on my own,

I’m going to be the 21st century Warhol but for the betterment of the world as a whole and I need someone to help and…’ He paused as if he was going to say something very important. ‘I’m looking for a producer to look after my business affairs, you know like Warhols bloke, my very own

Frederick K Hughes’.

…But through it all, when there was doubt I ate it up

and spat it out I faced it all and I stood tall And did it

my way…

Tickle nodded. Oh gawd he thought, another fucking genius, they were coming through his door all day long, wannabees and wantoos, pitching to get into Freespace. ‘I want someone commercial but glamourous, someone who can market my work to the World’ and Longleat went on

‘Lots of people are asking me to do stuff right now and I’m looking to do things on a bigger scale now, laying the foundation to be the next Disney but seeking to revitalize the World in the new spirit'...Tobys mind clouded, another

Warhol, another Disney another fucking spliff. He’d had enough, he wanted to go. ‘Yeah. Lets meet up soon’ he said

And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing.

To think I did all that; And may I say - not in a shy

way,

No, oh no not me, I did it my way.

Toby was more interested in surviving the present; it had been almost a year now at Predator with Saul and still no money and Electrobux, the media conglomerate who was going to be the backer, still hadn’t come through with the

Money despite what Saul said every week and had said every week for a year,’ Its alright mate, todays the day, believe me the dosh is on its way’. In fact he needed to get back and talk to Saul seriously about money again. Tina was going to go apeshit and that meant he, despite the regular supply of spliff, he was getting seriously worried about not getting enough of the Other from Tina either, which made him more susceptible to getting fucked, back into relapse and all that...O Gawd

Toby took a sharp left into the Soho Brasserie; he needed a cold drink and somewhere to hide. He ordered a lemon

56 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 presse, a bit of a pick me up, non alcoholic. There were mirrors all around the bar 80’s staring blaring back memories from before: Maggie, Money, Madness,

Agamemnon, coke in the back room, Jake legless, champagne cocktails, another TinTin song blaring out. I just want to go home. Ooh yeh with you tonight... Another

London binge gone wrong, another detox drying out, relapsing again being hauled off the Limelight floor where he’d passed out, Jake and Agamemnon like Paramedics, the horrible picture appearing in the Bun, the Sun the next day then the fully expose in the News of the World two days later, tongue out, bile and drool..

TICKTOCK - IS TOBYS TIME UP?

Seven years ago and now Tickle was staring into the yellow milk with ice noticing his knuckles were totally white. Was he just a dry drunk? He asked his reflection through gritted teeth... ‘Hi my names Tickle and I’m a…’ Fucking AA, fucking meetings not letting you forget and life in your new persona and Eastenders seemed always came on once he’d decided to go to a meeting wanting Tina to come on to him and sooth his fear and now Gwen says he was becoming a sex addict and co-dependent, whatever that is, the woman now the drink and Tina his higher power, the Baby to be his

57 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 own DIY resurrection, the ‘Normal’ family picture postcard to serve the purpose as proof of his ‘Recovery’ without AA or the sodding Crypt, but the secret reason for everything he did instead of the drink was sex now wasn’t it now?...

Fuck shit bollocks..Oh Gawd

‘Toe beee too bee too bye’. Stop it, it’s a fucking nightmare,

‘Toe beee too bee tow bye’, there were voices shouting across the street, another panic attack, anxious urgent calls amid the loudness and the laughing, ‘Toby Toby here this way Toby’, a film premiere or paparazzi on a beach, but no, no-one wanted him now, it was just self consciousness, the self centeredness Tina was always on about, Narcissism, but now it had become a disease. He needed to hide and crossing Shaftsbury Avenue on the run Toby rushed back towards the office hoping to get his head together, to focus on something else. His Brain hurt. Throbbing. Another spliff that’s what he needed, said that little old voice at the back of his head.

Click Beep click, the new digital Pentax snapped the has- been actor and almost star was framed. The man smiled and moved out of the doorway. A shiny mac, a hat but just

Canary would probably pay a few quid for it though, for some reason the Editor really had it in for Rehab victims even though he drank like a fish. C'est la Vie, who was he to complain, the Pap chuckled, they were the fish to his rod, err net…so to speak…and maybe with a bit more trawling he could double his money if he got a perve angle going on Tickle the Twat. It was the new way to make a few quid as it got everyone all riled up apparently although it seems only natural really, but where there shit there’s brass as his mum always said.

‘Shizer fuck goddam’, the picture was taking an age to download and the T1 line was still flacky. The idiots, why wasn’t broadband installed, it was hindering the collection of material that he had been directed to acquire mail

AScpQ. Strike breathed deeply, decompressing himself back into his own totally controllable world deep inside Predator, an alien within the Beast, windows covered, four Screens, multiple hard drive and a new data connection to the

National Spine. Strike used to be called Sven but changed his name when he was in the Valley, Silicon that is, in order

59 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 to fit in, all part of the front he had constructed to get into the Industry. Strike was loosing the specs and had let his hair get all messy; that’s what he had been told to do, ‘get more US, look like Chandler in Friends’, and he didn’t need to question why, Fit in and wait for the call, that’s what he’d been told. He was totally programmable because he knew the Source was Right or believed it to be so.

Yah, it iz ze vay of ze future, we will all be programmed at some stage and singularity was the Key, when the Power of

Computer matches the Power of the Human Brain, then we would, as the Greek guy said Come to Know Ourselves fully, we will be all fully realized like Buddha, Jesus and the rest. It would happen, no doubt, thought Strike, Mr Moore says so, it was the New Law, Computer Power doubles every year and halfs in price, so not long now before the code of the Mind is cracked. Duplication of the Genome, the digitization of the brain memory copied and stored, and then we could program new bodies with our old brains, resynthesized DNA, the guarantee of immortality and the

Destruction of Time as Dr Karl pronounced and yes, he was going to make sure he was there when it did, right in the centre, it was just about being there where it, the Power,

60 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 is. Shizer, now he had to show some guy his 3D world, Saul the fool had told him to, and although he found it wearing talking to these little people who knew nothing of IT, he had to in order to get more resources for the New World

Order he was helping to construct, he needed more resources, more RAM more memory and a place to wait from which to be activated via the Web.

‘So my friend’ the super brainy 3D programmer for the

Virtual Nightclub said to Toby a few minutes later, ‘I am going to show you zee real club’ his clipped weighted

English filed down with American which reminded Tickle of

Margot, his Eva Braun in Shame. She was Austrian rather than German Arab American but they shared the systematic precision in both their tongue and fingers. ‘That’s a big one’ said Tickle, impressed by the size of Strikes computer box under the desk. ‘Yeah, SGI Indigo R4, is that more than the PowerMac Jason’s got?’. Strike sniggered ‘Yeah, his is a little popgun compared to…Look here, now’ he ordered, sitting like a concert pianist behind a very big monitor, the Screen lights glinting off his glasses, his straight back and heavy set brow all at concrete angles set and the New World emerged from the screen, a landscape

61 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 of wide curves and rich colours, over a vast desert, a light shining in the distance on the horizon. ‘It iz a salt lake’. The desert was a void, ambient music playing, a Villam Cosmos track the place eerily empty except for the golden dunes and lakes of shining metal and Tickle felt himself being drawn into the vast virtual emptiness as the sun rose over a brow a City on a hill, a temple rising into a building of huge domes and cantilever structures- Metropolis, Bauhaus and getting darker almost Gotham like the dark thumping

Techno accompanying a sirens whine. Toby found himself immersed and it was a shock when the scene suddenly evaporated around him back to a rectangle and a single blue pyramid in slow motion being bounced around the computer Screen walls, the Screensaver for SGI.

‘What about the people?’ enquired Toby ‘People? Ze Users or ze Avatars’ asked the Scientist direct, ‘I will show you ze tests’. As a maestro moving into another piece, he entered a new code and another square opened up. There was a long alley way, crisscrossed with walkways a beam of light shooting through it alternating and speeding along, you opened a door and it was the Club, a dance floor, multiple lights, stroking through a gold and purple interior and there

62 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 a figure emerging from the shadows, scratchy edges, a beautiful blond woman, hair done up high, a Primavera in a transparent dress no underwear, wide hips holding out a golden apple as if inviting the watching boys to play. ‘It is still a bit clunky’ said Strike his glasses glinting from the goddess golden glow, ‘needs more processing, more rendering’ and he breathed deeply stretching out his arms

‘and for that I am needing more power’ the function of the alien beside him becoming clear again, ‘and for that, dear friend, I need Money, Fundink, yah’ grinning tightly. ‘Yeah no prob but …’ Toby agreed excited. He was seeing a possibility here, Millennium Hamlet, his comeback, in 3D the Fathers ghost the dreaded sight extravagant spirit done as animation, like Lawrence Olivier in Time, all virtual no need for real actors in the film. Didn’t Kenneth Tynan say it would happen, a new form of drama for the 21st century, everyone animated, no more dealing with the unpredictability of fucking acting types. ‘Could you program the people, I mean the avatars to communicate with people’ Toby asked the Programmer ‘the users, you know, drama, maybe projected live’ and he could see it now…

THE COMEBACK OF TOBY TICKLE

THE BEST HAMLET SINCE BURTON

CREATOR OF THE NEW DRAMATIC FORM

but the door was already closed, his audience with Strike was over and he knew he’d have to come back with something more real than an arty idea. Fundick, Adverting, shit, o gawd.

‘Watcha Cock, got any money yet?’, Sauls silhouette like a

James Bond cardboard cut out at the end of the dim corridor broad smiling. ‘No, well we’d better do the document? then’ ‘OK’ said Tickle, ‘but its getting a bit late, isn’t it’ he ventured, Tina had expected him back an hour ago. ‘Late, mate, what have we got to go home for if we’re sitting around worrying about the Money’, it seemed totally logical to Saul. ‘Come on, let’s unwind and finish this off.

We’ve got the big boys, Electrobux, tomorrow. Remember, we’ve got to get out weapons primed.’ He said tapping his head, ‘Here have some of this’ passing Tickle another spliff.

‘But didn’t you see Electrolux last week, they’d agreed that’s what you said, you said the money was coming through....’... ‘err yeah sure ….but that was a concall,

States, we’ve got to get ratification from the bod in blighty’ he moved in close to Tickle. ‘Look mate, if we do a good job

64 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 tomorrow, we’re on the road, OK we’ll be sorted ‘ and he very near to his face ‘Tina'll be happy, wont she, if she’s got money, you’ll get a bit of the other right, mate? Here mate, take her some of this, should make things cushty’ and Saul pressed another little chunk of hash into Tobys white knuckled fist. ‘OK, let start’ agreed Toby tired. ‘How much are we after’ ‘300K’ said Saul flatly, licking his finger to apply spit along the joint edge, ‘that should get us started, with a target in excess of one mill production 5% royalties’

Tickle suddenly sounded more awake ‘and my cut?’ ‘10% didn’t we say’ said Saul ‘You said 15?’, ‘But did we agree net?’ the Bossman added quickly. Toby didn’t know what he was on about but he was seeing the Money already, 10% of

3000 was 30000 quid and he felt it now like a warm blanket enveloping him and shit he needed it, he had been waiting for so long and this was it so near, he wanted to believe it, it was just about to come, the carrot, the escape, the light shining in the distance, redemption, free again, he could see it almost within reach the carrot there, dangling.

‘Alright let’s get going. Document, proposal, our own little bit of software hey mate? Powerpoint to the Point eh? Fuck the nerds down the corridor, the artistes’, Saul said,

65 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 scratching his show dog Rasta head ‘dosh before wank I always say’. ‘And in the beginning’ said Toby, a burst of energy buoying him up booting up Word, a blank template.

‘Right’ said Saul, let’s keep it clean. I’ll port it into

Powerpoint later. Summary. The Virtual Nightclub is the cutting edge..’ ‘What about bleeding edge?’ asked Tickle

‘State of the Art?’ ‘21st century?’ ‘Too early, the

Millennium’s too far off for fucks sake we want money now’ grinned Saul ‘Leading edge?’ ‘Ok let’s go with that’

‘Application?’ ‘Is it an Application or Software?’ ‘ Program?

Entertainment? Entertainment Program?’ ‘Killer app? - fucking killer app, the fucker’ enthused Saul getting excited, slapping Tickle on the back of the neck.

It took 20 minutes to get the first line down “The Virtual

Nightclub is the cutting edge interactive media entertainment program presenting the latest contemporary music, fashion, art in London today, the killer app of the first interactive generation…” ‘It’s a bit long-winded’ said

Tickle ‘Um Yeah: let’s have a spliff so we can brainstorm some more’ said Saul, going back into his pouch of Shag, being creative with a capital C. ‘Yeah that’s right, everyone wants to be an fucking artist ‘he said Freespace offers an

‘Yeah, then we can publish them and screw the fuckers later on’ said Saul giggling, hot with business and desire,

‘We can take on the big boys and fuck them up the arse.

Revenge’ and he grinned at the prospect and Toby could see having one over on the Mega execs for all that arselicking for the last 20 years, candidates and clients, was a major motivation for Saul. ‘Hey up here’s one of the real artistes’ said Saul nudging Tickle. ‘Hello gentlemen’ the white face of Jason emerged in the doorway. The nightshift; a night owl thought Tickle, but too reptilian for a bird.

‘How’s its going, Producers,’ little Jason snarled ‘got any money yet?’ ‘Yeah its coming on alright thanks Mr Creative’

Saul said, changing posture, tightening up. ‘So anyway where is the fucking money Mr Bossman?’ little Jason said now sternly staring at Saul, ‘Alright Jason, hold your horses we’re doing the best we can’ said Saul trying to be light, smiling obviously defensive ‘ Well its not very good is it’ said Jason, ‘ Well, mate, you’re not doing too badly are you with free offices’ said Saul. ‘Anyway when the fuck is the prototype going to be finished?’ ‘Tonight’, said Jason, a poker face not rising to it at all, a flicker of a smirk, seeing

Saul getting all hot and red again. ‘Great, at least you’re starting work early eh, it’s 8 fucking 30 you lazy sod’.

Jason, with a flex of snail back said nothing. The little office was silent for a moment, just the hum and secret clicking of the computer hard drives both egos in stasis, on Stand By, as neither was going to Shut Down.

‘Hyiya solly, come so early, need keys now.’ It was a highpitched voice coming from behind Jason. Butterfly clips in her hair a Japanese schoolgirl, doll like, a mini skirt, white socks and a big smile but looking like she didn’t sleep very much, ‘ Oh sully’ she said covering her mouth, ‘I not see you here’, her spiky head with a splash of blue nodding.

‘No worries, Kari San’ said Jason, talking the same way as

Toby would to their Pet Rabbit on a good day ‘Here are the keys, see yooz later’ and it looked like the little woman might jump up and take them in her mouth, but she quickly grabbed them and scurried off. ‘At toe Kurry may sonny sum yah’ said Jason and she laughed out loud. Saul looked at Tickle, both suspecting the laugh was on them. ‘Alright you two, here’s something to sell.’ Jason commanded seemingly satisfied he’d won the ego battle with Saul as he was the one with the sexy chick on hand. ‘Look at this’ he said opening one of Apples new laptops, Powerbooks they were called and the little magician clicked on a little icon of

68 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 an oriental schoolgirl set in the deep blue Screen and a box opened inside another box inside another box and there were a whole load of Japanese schoolgirls tied up, massive tentacles, vicious dicks, sucking then sodomising them, two three four together mass servicing by the gangsters slavering at the mouth like dogs. Jason flicked quickly on the keyboard with long white fingers, no nails. ‘Porno, that’s where the Money is’ Toby didn’t like himself the way the violent scenes were tickling his midriff; they were children after all the schoolgirls really. ‘Yeah’ said Saul, ‘So what it’s a fucking peep show; but don’t exhaust yourself with research mate if you know what I mean’ ‘Urg’ shrugged Jason and clicked the corner of the box and it closed in on itself. He had expended enough time on these ignorant would be Users and needed to get back to his big

Screen, tablet pen and fiddly Macromedia Director code.

‘Little wanker’ whispered Saul when Jason was gone. ‘A few t shirts Big in Japan, OK in the 80’s, before his company went belly up’, explained Saul ‘He reckons this is the ticket back there, dirty little sod’ he said grinning. ‘OK come on, let’s finish this off’. ‘Do auto format’ Saul urged but then it went all wrong with new headings and fonts coming in, then

69 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 arrows appearing from nowhere, Toby having to bodge it by typing in a word, then erasing it so things would line up properly. ‘Do Spellcheck’: flavor for flavour, color for colour, show-case for showcase, it made Toby feel he was even more redundant than usual, his mind superceded by the computers imperialistic US brain. But it was the fight over ideas that really fucked him off; Saul seemed to be claiming them as his own, when Toby had come up with them first what the fuck had he been doing here for the last 18 months. He felt all tense and humiliated, he just wanted to go home and get some sense of self back by having a shag with T. ‘Good typing Toby, you articulated my ideas and my vision quite well’ said Saul standing up and slapping Tickle on his wincing shoulders, which felt sore perhaps he thought, because of the wires coming out of each blade, feeling them trailing behind him as he made his way to the

No 38 bus.

------

At the heart of information one finds history haunted by its

own disappearance

Pataphysics of the Year 2000 Jean Baudrillard

Late again. Git. Why couldn’t he just get a job, a proper job, PAYE and not some new fangled possibility of a massive jackpot, just over the horizon, just out of grasp, in something no one understood. Twat, just because it sounded good at trendy parties. Just like Dad. Why couldn’t he….? But she stopped herself and took another drag on the spliff, just one a day, (she’d found a fertility book said that was better than stress) and another slurp of wine, (medically proven to be good for the heart). Anything but the Conflict she told herself, Tina couldn’t stand another row; like a volcano on the ocean floor her anger bubbled as she stared at the black and white tiles around the fireplace, old memories burbled up inside of her, the horrors in the linoed kitchen on those cold nights of 1963, bitter sex and fucked up relations she was still trying to shrug off.

Another drag, holding it in, as she flicked the roach into the fire and watched it disappear, the dope spreading out inside her, smothering the fears and letting her hopes rise again;

Peace, Love, Baby, Family, Togetherness…. There was so much Tina wanted to say, but even with a spliff she just couldn’t quite articulate it, all the words, the lines had become tangled up during the day, sitting and trying not to smoke and not to be carried away in her fears. The anxieties loitered in her belly like waves lapping against a submarines door. She’d always had them, the tears held in; another Sunday afternoon becoming dark behind the windowpane and Dad hadn’t come again, as he said he would, sounding so loving on the telephone, another woman somewhere, her father living in another life apart from her. Where was her life now? Another man, Toby, was holding it and the uncertainty swirling around in and around him just wouldn’t let her rest.

Tina was sat there with the cat before the fire, wearing her torn silk dressing down, very still. She heard him come through the door. Don’t move she told herself, but she smiled broadly making a space for him by the fire. The dope was working, he thought, the stuff Saul had given in

72 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 lieu of dough,’ just wait another week, there’s a concall tonight’ and it looked like things might turn out OK. He came and sat down beside her, arm around her shoulders.’

You OK?’ Be gentle he told himself, just watch the end of the program with her, be still. It was another soppy drama she enjoyed so much crappy lives making ones own seem less so. An over concerned Dad, the good guy who was Dr

Who now a teacher in a run down comprehensive school struggling to keep his principles intact,’ I’m too poor to have morals ,’ the man said to his wife after he told her if he didn’t lie about the results he’d loose his job and yes he too was too poor to worry about being right, thought Tickle, if this bullshit media was the right thing to do, all he knew was he was doing shit work and to keep himself from disappearing into his own self hate he needed a shag soon.

He needed a Restart, a reboot really and as he moved through to the sitting room he was opening up a new

Software Application, his Killer App geared to getting his

End away.

Toby pushing in a red-hot coal with the bamboo stick that served as their poker trying to get it lit. ‘Everything OK?’

‘Yes, fine’. They both stared at the fire for it seemed a long

Tickle, yes maybe, but you know I’d like to talk first. Give me a hug and then we’ll see.’ Toby hugged Tina taking her round body up against his, her head resting on his chest.

His groin hardened and he was pleased his blood at least was moving again, heated by her warm musk. He shifted his leg away from hers, trying to hide his hardness and then, as if someone else had plugged in a floppy disc, a flood of images began to cascade behind his eyes, schoolgirls tied to an iron bed wide mouths screaming a giant penis pushed against teeth, a pert bottom spread cheeks, a slit eyed babe bent forward claws grasping the next monster giant tongue dripping white. ‘Stop it’, he told himself, this is here, this is now, she is beautiful and I need her and he sought out her eyes, large, brown and giving

‘You alright my beauty’ he said trying to make himself feel gentle ‘Not really’ she said her eyes flickering ‘ A bit lonely’

‘I’m sorry’ ‘ Feeling useless, nothing happening down there yet,. Maybe I can’t have babies and then what?’ ‘Don’t worry it will’ he said trying to cover up the relief’ ‘Maybe its time for IVF’ she said, ‘ Expensive’ he said, ‘ I know sorry, it will be OK’ she said. ‘I’m just worried- remembering the first time with Lee. Maybe I’m not right, it will happen

74 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 again- loose it and... ’ but Toby felt himself setting like concrete ‘Better get something to eat and moved away a wave of nausea grabbing his gut ‘it’s been a busy day’ he said. ‘Oh dear, what have you been doing? Any closer to the Electrobux deal?’ she asked not wanting to sound too demanding which sometimes set him off ‘Lets talk about it later; I just want to relax for a while’ he winced, playing up his fatigue to maximum value. He couldn’t face listening to her honest fears again, then he’d have to open up to those inside him, the fears about no money, the shit work and the lack of a room for the Baby. It wasn’t so much her knowing, it was him having to look at himself, as if she still had her video camera trained on him, waiting for him, constantly on

Stand By. Here at home he was meant to be King, at least be able to kid himself he was; at work he knew he was a small prick amongst many. He had been programmed to be strong or at least to appear so, a mans gotta do whatta a man goota do a mans …John Wayne and True Grit and that meant not thinking about it too much so stop the fear.

Strength was all and weakness was best kept a secret and the software program or perhaps even operating system to to enable him do so was called Denial.

So the 30 something couple sat in front of the fire, a break in their silent negotiations, watching TV having another joint, their fears flickering between them silently, like sparks accompanying the flames, as out there the World continued to collapse around them, orchestrated by Jeremy on Newsnight, no one else seeming to care.

…thousands died, many more suffered fatal injuries and

disablement caused since the explosion at the chemical

factory 10 years ago at Bhopal in India, and after years of

fighting in the International Courts still the American

Corporation who owns the complex is denying all liability

preventing any sort of compen...

Slumped stoned in front of the Screen, the pictures were going too fast for Toby to register anything other than label them by name: a crying peasant women wailing; the bloodshot eyes of dazed men; a twisted malformed child looking out knarled stunted limbs, no ears, looking out, a still stare at the lens and Toby began remembering the trudging through the moonlit plains of Bihar 20 years earlier, a woman with a sack of corn, babies on both back and hip shouting at him the stupid fat western youth, to get out of her way. It was there then, sitting in shit, after months of staring out of windows, increasingly unhappy and

76 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 lonely, thin and depleted moving through the self hating introspection of his young small life, back through those baby failures and little recriminations that he’d finally felt an emptiness from them an emptiness of being, alone in his aloneness, travelling into a place beyond the pain of being lonely, and, on the third night of no sleep, something had happened …. And it felt like peace, it felt he was part of, complete.You are nothing so you are everything the man had said at the Ashram and it was it, IT, the answer, it felt so at the time and now it felt it had been the last time he had some sort of certainty, somewhere something had told him that perhaps he was OK, he didn’t need anything else but IT.

‘Fucking Yanks’ he was really angry surprising himself as he prided himself in not getting involved, ‘they should clear up the mess they have left. Bastards’. “With interests rates dropping the housing market is emerging from its recent prolonged slump’’. ‘ About fucking time’ said Toby. Their one bed Hackney flat flat had been bought at the height of the boom and it had now turned into a black lump of debt called Negative Equity, growing like a cyst in Tobys head. O shit, he’d made himself forget it but the boil was being

77 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 continually prodded by letters from American Express, urgently pressing to be paid; I am writing on behalf of my clients the American Express Financial Corporation incorporated in Delaware ...Fuck, he hadn’t told Tina about the second demand that had arrived on Tuesday, Denial wouldn’t allow and it might make her too afraid for the

Baby, and even more frightening, take away any chance for palliative sex.

Why did he let it go? he asked the Screenshots of disaster after disaster now, that was the News. It, the big it, the sense of being vital, being part of something bigger and important was he was doing had kept him going for a few years, Glorious Hamlet, Young Adolf, Brit at Cannes but in a twinkling in an eye it seemed to all fall apart from him as his own internal drama became everything, watching himself becoming trapped inside his own clownish

Hollywood white suit, smeared with spilt drink and Toby

Tickle saw himself now performing those bad tricks of his alcoholic nightmare trying to grab hold onto something, someone anything before going down the hole, his aloneness, the drugs and Tania, the guilt’s and the fears, pushing him apart from himself, flooding his world with

UK STAR SON OF SATAN the National Enquirer going mad,

BRIT TICK IS A LOUSE

Tania’s abortion making the fundamentalists crazy picketing

Abyss, boycotting the video of Shame

‘Pro- Life against Anti Life Star’ and the studio had had to back down, Texas oil money, his

Comeback picture T’Smithereens binned, that great redemptive role playing a guy coming out of rehab ending up with some psycho going crazy on a road trip with a band of female wrestlers that was end of Hollywood for him, the end of being able to, the termination of his career. End of.

Rock Bottom they called it in the Crypt too, the death throws of his Denial, well at least around the drink. Tania had gone then, fucked off, it was too much for her whose role model was Zelda, there are no second acts in American lifes, gone thrown herself off a bridge in San Fran and he’d checked into the Crypt a second time just to get away from the Press who were feasting on his Demise.

‘Fuckers’ Tickle shouted now at Jeremy ‘Politicians know jack shit’ ‘Well’ said the Newscaster with one of his smug smiles, ‘it looks like the Tories are finally imploding upon themselves. After the Matrix Churchill and Arms to Iraq scandal, combined with the series of the sexual mishaps of their senior politicians, it may be time , at last, for Labour or shall I say New Labour to come through... ‘THINGS CAN

ONLY GET BETTER as their recently announced motto declares, and it looks like their promise of honesty and transparency in all things governmental, as their newly elected leader Tony Blair recently declared, might pull the voters towards them..‘Wankers’ Toby said, all politicians were liars, there was no point to vote, ‘being Economical with the truth’ bollocks, it’s called Lying and it seemed to be the New Way, with Saul and Business, the Press, the Cats were out of their bags and the Dogs were running wild.

Bastards. Everything was run by Money now anyhow.

‘Cunts’ ...the package killed Gilbert B. Murray, of California

Forestry Association the timber lobbying group's president.

Another story; grainy shots. This is the Unabomber second killing as many months, and the authorities are still trying to discover who the terrorist organization FC are and what they want…Finally, Jocelyn Wicks, looks at the emergence of a new phenomenon of the brave new world of IT,

Information Technology, and the phenomenon known as the Internet’. ‘Isn’t that something you’re doing’ said Tina,

‘Its Shite’, the last thing Tickle wanted was more of the computer stuff; with her he could at least sustain a bit of his old identity, she was the only other person who knew he was writing Millennium Hamlet part of the comeback into his truer finer self.. ‘Come on let’s go to bed’, he said, ‘we need to.. you know..?’ Toby trailed off. He didn’t want to push it too hard, it would spoil his chances for getting it, the it that he needed so badly now. 'Come on, lets go, I’ve got to get up early’ Toby said, now desperate for some relief from all the crap going on in his head

‘OK. You go I’ll have one last fag’ said Tina hoping Toby’d go and fall asleep. For Tina it was a thing totally internal; she knew when it was right or not, her body told her and she knew when it wasn’t now. Of course she sometimes relented when she didn’t feel like it, just in order to contain him and the anger she knew was lurking underneath. Lately though, it was more functional, it was something that needed to be done, to engender reproduction and bonding between mates, but still she wondered if really for Tickle it was just a replacement for the act, the performance, a

81 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 ritual catharsis of emotion unsorted, in and out, a raid on the Real focusing on his own perfection, all about getting it right. Music, lights, camera, action...

We must talk more, we must communicate, she was thinking ten minutes later, the plea almost rhythmically coordinated to the pushing and the pulling of Tickle on top of her. Let myself go, let yourself go, let myself go, put mind and self aside, let it happen, the Miracle, now. The

How to Avoid IVF book had told Tina to tell herself this, positive affirmations were key. Perhaps it was true, the moment of conception was the first bit of personhood and it was important to be as full of love, of hope, as possible.

Come on try she told herself, at the same time trying not to listen to the other voice telling her the truth. Pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling it was her whole life now and she couldn’t stop thinking about the Stuffed Hare she’d seen the Two Fat Ladies cook an hour previous on TV, the really fat one pulling the animal guts out on the bright white sideboard, ‘Lovelly Jubbelly, guts for garters as they said at my old school’.

Come on concentrate but although her body was there almost fully responding, it was a thing becoming separate, her body was now given over to waiting to be taken over completely by another and her life to totally change. She’d thought so much about it, over the years, since the fuck up with Lee, that second painful crevice in her life and then a

28-year-old chronically brooding she’d met Toby; Saturn

Returning” Ellen called it and now seven years later it was here at last again, she hoped, almost. Come on... Let myself go, let yourself go, let myself go, put mind and self aside, let it happen the miracle, be intimate, in love, for the childs sake. But she couldn’t deny it; within the pushing and pulling she was inside another body sitting there still and all tensed up, afraid and surrounded by fears. She needed to share them but Toby couldn’t wouldn’t listen and that was where her real intimacy dwelt, the intimacy her body was now acting out with him, virtually, split in doubt.

Pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling pushing and...

Toby Tickle ex celeb comeback king stretched his arms up and letting his breath expand fully. Fuckyfuckyfuckfuckfuc…

He caught himself in the mirror and, marveling at the shape of leg against thigh, he saw the bodies metamorphosing

83 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 into one redness, a raw blur in the glass feeling the strength of his gut and burgeoning power in his loin. Here he was at last, body in full, being total mind at one with the physical, together creating. He was on the stage again and the silent applause was washing away. Sauls put down,

Jasons snarl and Strikes smirk, they seemed far away reduced, absurd, immaterial as he girded himself for the final push deep down inside her, feeling the power rushing throughout him into her eyes closed lashes flickering, his chest hot necks high, her hands grasping his sides. Go, go on, go on hurry up let it be so I can let go go, go, please, yes now, there, come now go come in now go in now, at last yes... and Tinas body suddenly subsiding, then his.

He fell onto his back and he breathed deeply, replete at last. A wave of warmness brushed over him as she hooked her leg over his, that odd smell of honey and shit mixed her arm draped over his shoulder. Just a hug, she wanted, he knew and wanted to please her but he was unable, never that intimate afterwards, wanting to collect his breath and fix his contours and shed the part just played. It was a constant battle with boundaries, unable to stop himself giving all and with this the act it felt sometimes he’d be lost in her forever, he had to get back inside himself quick. It

84 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 had been so much easier when he was playing a part, the role somehow giving him a template, a definition to mirror, defining him which he couldn’t do in real life.

Go on, risk it and yes she really was a radiant angel, a marvel the way she could remove his pain and he locked his arms around her. He thought of the shoal of semen swimming in the hot lagoon, the coral blooming inside her, little fishes equipped with little else but desire. Would one hit tonight, inseminate, impregnating in an explosion of fireworks, the atoms splitting? and Tina saw the sun rising from a distant documentary, narrated by David

Attenborough’s God-like tones, orange over black burning to white, the new life awakening once more as Toby was sliding into warm water, dreaming fitfully, his head bobbing up to the top of his neck then dropping down to the garbage in slow motion rolling across the sea bed; there

Tina darting between caves above bottom feeders and diving shoals of quick spark fish, out of the darkness a squid eye suspicious, applause breaking with the waves, a shark, teeth claws foreboding, up near to him, his genitalia exposed, there waiting the gaping jaw, the bite….

Tickles eyes opened. 4.14. Mouth drying, stickly bits in his nose. Her; all over him. She was revolting really and she was taking over his life. Bitch. He couldn’t move. No sleep.

Two hours later, Tickle wasn’t sure if he had woken or not entirely

------

Technology is the name we have for stuff that doesn’t work

yet...

Daniel Hollis

‘Fuck Shit Cunt’. Jason bit his lip trying to push away the irritation that the Others were causing in his head.

‘Arseholes’ - was fucking difficult making sculptures out of gas. Fuck ‘em, he had the power and in the end they knew it. Jason was outlining the tentacles, the triffids to then insert into the girls, in Freehand so he could then capture them for the Stage in Director, before he wrote the Script to animate the Object. It was fiddly and he had 200 to do.

The Sequence might take him all night, then he had to lay down the Cosmos music track. He’d got this stuff from

Manga and he’d got the dogs from the US on Prodigy, but what about the girl; Sumi perhaps, she certainly was up for a bit of submission, that’s what he liked about the Japanese chicks. He’d go into Porn full on but it wasn’t so good for the street cred down at the Tube. Tongue + 32b xq equals

– bot32£…Jason typed rapidly with his long thin fingers, not realising his two front teeth stuck out like Bugs Bunny

87 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 when he was concentrating. It was the fourth night he’d been programming and the front of his head hurt, his eyes becoming detached from his skull. He knew that the ions in the air generated by the bank of hard drives made him a

Radiation Hotspot, but the fact was he felt closer to the machines than to Users, other people who didn’t know how it worked and, Jason suddenly thought, really he preferred jacking off to the porno and Sumis voice down the phone rather than her real, flesh and blood. Fuck, Shit, Cunt he’d hit Enter before he’d meant to, which had fucked up the

Sequence on the Stage and so he’d have to realign the whole thing and start again. Fuck. The cursor had frozen, have to reboot again, it always happened when he lost his temper. Shit, he needed more meg more power in his machine, he wished the Apple would just respond to what he thought instead of having to use his fingers, he needed some little intelligent microchip to insert behind the ear and his skin crawled now as if there were hundreds already there. The Screen went black and for a moment Jasons brain stalled.

Cunt. A snarl came first, then the thought that Saul was trying to shaft him; they were going to put Strike in charge,

Banshees no street, no nouce. Fuck ‘em, he was going to show them who was the key man they’d see. He didn’t need the money, not now he had this manga porn sideline in dev. He was meeting Simon Smith, the Electrobux suit next week, Len his mate the real techie had set it up. The next move was Zeak, the film guy with the script for

Tremor the interactive movie Virus 2 in development. No, fuck ‘em all, he was the one using Saul and Strike even though they thought it the other way round. Big guys, emotional, old hat. 5 ft, 7 stone speaking Japanese, he was the 21st century one, the Millennium Man for sure. Fuck

Shit Cunt where did he put those chinky school girl legs he’d cut out; it was going to be a tricky move to wrap them around the triffid monsters multiple heads and he had 200 to do before dawn.

Four hours later and Jason no longer felt his body. The tasks had become automatic, only the Screen, reflecting bright blue in each eye burning in the darkened office, seemed alive, non robotic. The Cosmos ambient came to the end almost exactly the same time as he pressed Enter

89 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 and there was birdsong, starlings mimicking blackbirds above Leicester Square just after dawn. It had been a good day really, last night. No fucker had disturbed him in the end. He’d finished the Manga Gangsta toy, scripted the

Virus Death trap and sketched out another Nightclub game.

Calls to LA, San Fran and Tokyo OK, emails and concalls, the Macromedia newsgroup on Prodigy, kept the paranoia at bay for another global day and, at 4.14, a bit of Telesex with Sumi. Go fetch goo gir, everything according to the

Plan, his Excel spreadsheet keeping to the Milestones of the

Jason Software Development Path.

And almost exultant the Programmer ran down the stairs and as if an alien making a break across No Nerds land but he bumped into the Saul, coming in early to work. ‘Hiya

Slave, another night at the face’ he said ‘I’m catching Tokyo before it closes up...surely you can relate mate, if you know what I mean’ he laughed at the little bloke with no hair.

‘This is the Day Matey. Todays the day, the day Electrobux bites and Boat with the big Bucks arrives’, then his smile flattened and the Bossman asked. ‘Finished Version 3.1 eh??’ ‘No, yes, enough look’ said Jason feeling everything was unraveling in the light of the too bright day. ‘Look why

90 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 don’t you fuck off and do your job and Ill do mine. Where’s the fucking money heh? How many fucking Electrobux meets do you need?’- the snarling nerd yapped into Saul broad faced grin. ‘No my little friend Today is indeed the day and the deal I will make’, Saul said the same mantra he been saying monthly for over a year, it was all part of his NLP Buddhist shit, you make the day don’t you. Yeah it felt right thought Saul and if today is today then we’ll see who’ll be telling who to fuck off mate.

Yeah, fuck 'em all Saul thought, four hours later Armani on, ego primed, beard trimmed, a mop of hair wet with something and ‘I’ll show the fuckers I will, I’ll show the fuckers I will, Ill show the fuckers I will I will I will’ he said in rhythm to the trains wheels. ‘I’ve been working on these guys for three years so don’t fuck it up will you’ he said suddenly to Tickle sitting opposite spaced out as usual, staring at the rain shower over Fleet. Flaky fucker, actor type, thought Saul, as soon as this dosh in Ill get in a real sales pro. Yeah it was Dog eat Dog mate and the recession was biting into Saul at every heel, mortgage, alimony, office overhead, the fast money of the 80s had now disappeared and everything was getting seriously squeezed

Greed to kick in again and the Millennium Game to commence and the beautiful bunce to begin again. Yeah what goes round comes around, he had seen it all before, in the 70s at Portland, before the Big Bang had banged. Ten fucking years flogging shit to suckers at Bezzlebinds company, now Sir Reg the Tory Minister for Defence, but then him, the Shatssis and their gang had all come up

Roses, once Maggies reign had began. A millionaire with his own business in his twenties, Sauls Life in a Day of in the

Sunday Times Magazine had confirmed he was one of them in his thirties and he was damned if at 40 is was all going to go tits up, him back flogging hairbrushes door to door in

Beckenham and the proto Ruler of the Universe set his jaw determined to nail the Fat Fuckers down at Electrobux today for some dosh.

Simon Smith Head of European Consumer Media Product

Marketing, Electrobux Media NV Toby was impressed by the title on the card but when the taxi deposited them half an hour later at the industrial estate in Farnborough it was a bit of a letdown. Red brick new blocks, mean windows and

Corsas and Mondeos being all new and a fat Mercedes S series burning in the corner, giving away the fact that someone from the Money was in residence today.

Smith, the big cheese executive was, in the flesh, a squat little man with a moustache, sort of Village People compressed and he didn’t look well, his skin all red and blotchy. Alison, his manager cum PA, Saul’s contact, had a fixed half smile, holding too many papers but still looking prim, tight assed Saul had called her Toby remembered as she led them into the meeting room. Tickle now wished that he’d sewed up the ripped pocket on his suit jacket as his turn to do the demo came round. ‘So here is the Gallery, and here are the copulating dogs which turn into rabbits in order to encourage interaction and gameplay’, and the two gnomic figures that were the Money sat inert staring wide eyed into the light of the projector. Getting concerned by their zombie like state Tickle accelerated through the club,

‘…and this is a bleeding application on the killer edge’ and his finger nervously uncertain, (he needed the fucking money soon) slipped on the mouse as if he was back tripping up in the Limelight with Agamemnon, utterly lost,

‘Only thing missing is beer and sawdust’ chirruped the fat little man Smith trying to join in. ‘So with the inherent dynamic publishing abilities of the multimedia CD format, new editions and future development of the information superhighway will facilitate multinational editions of the

Club incorporating FREESPACE, a conduit for new talent and self expression reflecting the true interactivity the medium can create…’ ‘Sorry gents we had better wind it up there.

Simon has a few things to do before the next meeting’ the secretary commanded. Tickle sagged, his performance cut off, feeling castrated coming to climax of his chant “killer app killer app killer app’ now beating at the back of his head feeling himself draining away as no applause came.

Saul had to spin a story back at the office. ‘That slob Smith wasn’t the decision maker; I got the name of the main guy, which was a result and I’m going to shoot off States next week. I’m telling you all, believe me I’m sure The day is almost here’. ‘Yeah yeah’ spat out little Jason, ‘Almost a result?’ he said ‘Fuck all- we’re not going to wait much longer’ the grin turning into his snarl and Toby was left to have another cigarette in his now tiny office, demoted by what Saul called downsizing , ‘necessary economies mate’

94 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 but Toby felt as humiliation and felt like dying as he stared at the pigeon desperately clawing to get a foothold on the drainpipe becoming blurred in the rain against the brick grey view.

It was 9.35pm and Tickle sat now fuming, too afraid to go home wondering how he was going to get some cash, anything smoking one fag after another fag defiantly at his desk putting off having another spliff. Believe me it will happen soon it’ll be OK for you to get pregnant had became an empty vow to Tina, but he knew he had to have a back up plan. All his great entrepreneurial vision could come up with was buying a ticket for the Lottery bollocks just launched It could be you, It could be you Toby couldn’t get the jingle for the Lottery out of his head, it was everywhere, radio, junk, milktop bottles, the billboards and that giant golden hand pointing at you on TV. It could be you, It could be you, Itcouldbeyou Itcouldbeyou

Itcouldbeyou too. Yeah it should be me it should be me

Toby felt a anger against his own desperate situation rise up in him, cunt, fucking cunts, they were all his ideas anywhere why was he always waiting for Bosses to make something of them, why was his stuck here like a lemon

95 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 shouldn’t he be a man, I gotta to do what a mans gotta do, fuck loyalty and all that shit, the you in the could be is all alone and its dog eat dog or rabbit isn’t it now. Yeah ,

FREESPACE Millennium Hamlet the first show, Toby as

Hamlet Virtual Larry as the Ghost, World Tour, accompanying exhibition with all the new virtual reality stuff, a World Centre for VR Drama production superceding

Film, opened by Dame Joan, Sir Larrys widow, and rolling out a Global Franchise of interconnected Freespace clubs he could steal the Nightclub demo and use it to market his

Plan as something separate, his own direct route to the

Money, in case Sauls plan didn’t come through, or maybe he could do it anyway, yeah Dog eat Dog as Saul did always said. Fuck him Fuck them all Toby muttered opening up Word, I am going to do it my way, the refrain whispering the edict in his tense head. It could be you it could be you it could be you Freespace perfect thing for the

Millennium Dome, hi tech, community, interactive, visionary, cross cultural high sponsorship potential- all the buzzwords were there. He could have a gyroscope like the

Lawnmower Man as the symbol, the icon, Thomasch his

Mutoid mate had a real one, he’d seen last week when he’d gone to get some dope, used it with Ketamine at Clubs. It all fitted. Yeah, it was all coming together, it was all there,

96 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 he felt it was meant. But he needed to get it all down on paper, make a Plan, he’d be really late tonight Tina would be fucked off but he had to keep the thing together in his own head the Plan It could be you it…and he fired up his

Word on his PC to port later into Powerpoint.

At 2.02 am Strike stuck his head around the door and Toby clicked on the corner of his Freespace Future

Entertainment, FFE mark 1.2 Proposal for Arts Panel

Funding Document hiding his secret plan, although Strike was already written into it as ‘Key Programmer’. The

ArabCrout looked wired, as if electrified by his continual rendering of his 3D worlds. ‘I am telling you Jason iz Judaz, he iz looking to the Electrobux for another project, Tremor,

Interactive movie and Virush shoot ‘em up, it vill jeopardize the Nightclub production. I’m giving you the info o for you to highlight to Saul’ 'Little shit’ ‘Yes exactly, I do not wanna to jeopardize the production’ ‘Right, yes I understand ‘ said

Toby seeing himself looking frightened in Shrikes tinted specs. ‘And are you involved?’ ‘Yes, of course I am needed for the SGi and C++. I am essential’, said Strike affronted, as if Tickles had wondered if the day could happen without the Sun. 'Yes of course’ said Tickle quickly, ‘You have been

Freespace if the Nightclub caved in. He needed to phone

Saul now before the rendering for his current fantasy caved in on itself.

‘Its really neat mate’ the top Exec pronounced on the 25th floor up the mirrored edifice of ElectrobuxTower on 5th

Avenue NYC, sharing sushi with the UK Club Guy opposite, the beacon lights of the Twin Towers blinking above them like Watchman guarding their consummation of the VNC

Deal. ‘It fits, your Plan into to ours, sweet’ and all was good and they both beamed, choirboys exultant. ‘We’ve already spent $1 billion on R&D on the MCD platform’ the

Electrobux guy declared smiling, ‘a little more might be found for the VNC I’m sure’ and they both beamed more.

Beep Beep The phone rang. ‘Yours mate’ ‘Ah One of Mar people back in Londrez', said Saul to the shining Exec in blackboss suit across the icy gloss of the desk. ‘What would these guys do without the guidance of management eh?’ and the Jesus looking guy in the black Versace beamed.

Back.

‘Saul Saul bad news that fucking cunt…..’ a whine came out of the receiver but Saul seemed unruffled by the news from Toby, full of the weighty assurance provided by the

Conglomerates HQ. ‘But when’s the sodding Money going to actually come’ Toby pleaded to Saul, ‘It’ll be with us soon enough, don’t worry mate everything’s cool’ the smooth dude said smiling, ‘It’s sorted we’re signing later today’.

Saul was playing with the little prick back home, infact he was going to enjoy playing with all of them, one by one and in particular with that shit Jason. ‘Well mate, perhaps you’ll be allowed to stay on in a minor capacity but don’t worry its under control, we’ll sort them out, “the Artistes”, they’ll come running soon enough but your role matey, is to go out and sell this shit to the suckers at the brands and if you want to keep the Mrs. Happy, do it and do it quick, go and sell it now’. ‘Right Yes sure’.

As Tickle put the phone down he felt a rupture inside him, a split. Was he really going to try and shaft Saul or be loyal, trust him and just do what he was told. What was Tina going to say, she never lied and he was going to cheat her old friend but she needed the Money and it was dog eat dog wasn’t it? O Gawd. Toby looked into the Night seeing the

‘Oh my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a long lonely time, Time goes by so slowly and time can do so

much.

Are you still mine?

The TV was still on when he got back to the flat after a nightmare on the night bus. 4.23am. Push some cheese into his mouth cutting the cheddar slab with a carving knife.

Have a spliff, then? Sex? And this would be a good time to murder the rabbit. He’d left the net up again that morning but this way would be definite wouldn’t it .

Time goes by so slowly and time can do so much. Are you still mine.

He pressed mute. Shit sugar of a song, Jackson and Ray, it was the two actors guys on top of the No 38 with an overdose of ding and now there they were, Number One, cunts, clean-cut boys for the grannies, enough to make you sick. Simon says so doesn’t he? Was that the guy, Simon, there now with his mute arms around the two supposedly nice boys, J&R picking up some sort of award all sparkling

100 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 stars, spots and silvery purple gloss. Toby moved to turn it up a little but he didn’t want to wake up Tina, he really couldn’t be bothered to be nice. Nice looking belly dancers at the back

‘Oh’. She came in her dressing down; looking furtive.

‘Where have you been?’ she said trying not to sound accusatory. ‘Trying to get some money’ Toby smiled sheepishly ‘See look’ and he pointed to the ad on the Telly:

It could be you; it could be you, a huge sparkly gold hand hovering above London and he suddenly he felt horny, seeing her all vulnerable there, catching his fear about the

Money before it got in the way. ‘Aren’t you going to give me a hug’ he said. Was she going to ask again where the fucking money was? ‘Lost the rabbit, just disappeared’ she said flatly, ‘Never mind’ he said, relieved the little fucker had gone. ‘ How are you feeling’ ‘A bit weird’ she said, the room flickering slightly as the Brit award fireworks exploded on the Telly ‘ I’m pregnant’ she said.

And suddenly the front door slammed closed which Tickle had forgotten to shut. ‘That’s it then’ a voice said to Tickle,

Moving over Fuji, racing against the racing sun inside his second Gulfstream, Molane finished is 20 minute nap and with a swig of his Colorado purified as he swallowed another three whites melatonin pills in order to the defeat his body internal submission to the changes between dark and light. Business never rests. He needed to make the call to Wayne at Mudrock ASAP . He already had Gary and his

Home Inc on board but he needed both their assurances of no entry into fibre optic; it would queer his pitch to City

Global and screw up the securitization of the future through the low fixed high yield bonds. It was in his Plan, they had to understand, The Digital Superhighway; his strategist had come up with the brand, which sounded cool, even though

Clinton and Bore had got ahold of it for the Presidential election campaign. 40 bill it was going to cost them to hitch on his ride and what did they know anyhow, just politicians

PR guys for Big Biz, it was Molane who was actually building it, and he was going to get Mudrock to do content and Gary

Miller the check-out till and the English guy, Frank Power, he’d be good for the PR Global. No, all was good and all

102 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 would come to pass, it was just a question of letting it be so, and President John lifted his slightly shaded spectacles to wipe the tension from his Tokyo eyes and wondered, for a moment, what his mountains would look like without the forest, just had it as continual snow. The Special Purchase

Bill hadn’t got through yet, that upstart Jefferson 111 was blocking it on the hill, but his lobbyists assured Molane that all was not lost yet even after a year and a half, six months behind the prescribed time. He might have been a bit irritated, if he ever allowed himself to entertain a single note of negativity in his mind.

Great liars are also great magicians"

-Adolf Hitler

Three months later Toby and Tina slept in an awkward geometrical shape a change now occurring in its outline around the womans pregnant belly. From high above the dot among a million of other dots slumbering, clusters of red around green, they slept at the edge of the city while in it’s centre in a another time zone separate but together two men were chatting on a concall transcontinental, Orange

Street to Orange Country, West End to West Coast, working out there strategy together, enjoying their secret idea of being puppetmasters to those who did not get up so early as them.

‘Great potential for seed capital, have you looked at the projection for growth, the Burnt and Young analysis forecasts tremendous upcurve?’ ‘Yes of course, lot of interest particularly after the Yahoo float, 800 mill plus

‘Queuing up over here’ Garthside said talking very fast and

104 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 posh like an Oxbridge bookie but he was interrupted by a much slower and more buttery voice as if it was pampering his nerdy friend. ‘Yes indeed old boy, I’ve a row of clients looking for an in, ISP particularly, whatever that is. In my day Initials used to be used for people not tech stuff, in fact business used to be only about people, who you knew, connecting was the key. Always connect, Forster and all that ’. The line went blank. At 5.53. Greenwich Meantime, it was way too early for KOKs literary illusions. ‘Users,

Subscribers, Numbers they are still the point, 2K a pop on the points, we need to focus on the investment strategy’

Garthside continued machine like, he knew KOK had allotted another 2 mins for the call. ‘Bloody VCs ad serving, co branding, Ecommerce, Search, Personalization bloody buzzwords, if only I knew what they all meant I might know what I’m fucking investing in’ and the other man laughed tightly at more senior executives joke. ‘Yes, if only’

Garthside agreed although he did know, it was his business,

IT, his company Pilgrimage Tech was one of the leading investment boutique in which KOK had a considerable slice even though he himself was now worth in six figures and he had to stop himself resenting the relaxation in KOKs voice, thinking again about KOK pretending it wasn’t about race, the seniority too, the white boy prerogative, Guards,

Unilever, Power Ads, path smoothly assured, slightly different from the mindset if you’re from Peckham with an unknown Dad.

‘Before we finish I’ve a couple of interesting other opportunities KOK as we’ve got Virtual Nightclub project on the road now, with approaches to Bartone and the like. Lost leader but intro for the Players, it is only door opening stage after all. Online is where we are going, no doubt about that. Molane, Mudrock and Miller they’ve already set it up, now I'm trying to get Sony and Electrobux on board.

I’ve got Saul in the States talking to a couple of VCs now about it’ ‘ Funny you should say that’ said KOK responding to the names being dropped ‘ I had Frank Power on the phone from LA last week ranting on as he does, about

Interactive this and Interactive that. He’d just had a drink with Gary Miller going big time into shopping on the

Internet and Frank wants me to set up a few plays going over here fast. I’ve got that funny chap Tickle going into

Power today’ ‘Great’ and Garthside was fingering his other phone now knowing a call was about to come ‘So this is the new rock and roll is it. Will it make me feel young again

Garth?’ ‘Well it might stop you going on about the Bloody

70’s Ring of and your other claims to fame. May we speak at close’ ‘OK Oh yes I forgot to mention I met this Money market chappy, Santa Moore, Gods knows where he’s from,

Barrow boy type, at the Angels do, kept going on about

‘gobbling up users’ but he seems to have the Kahonees to see it through, might be someone we could use’ ‘Yup those

City boys love it, a pure numbers game, spread bets and

Bartone is very keen too’ ‘What our Barry, the wild man of metal?’ ‘Well he’s more interested in Motors and Football now. Did you see he bought United again? He wants something for his son to do apparently and I suggested the

Web and of course the City wants him to get involved in the digital and I know he’s got Elizabeth on the case, he’d always happy to see his pension fund grow…..’

‘Its unstoppable now, its all going to change, everything as

Kevin Kelly says, You’ve seen the new mag Wired I hope,

‘netification, computerization and digitalization all increases choices...That’s about all technology gives but that is a very large thing’ as the guru says and yeah this is the next big thing and the Virtual Nightclub is the channel by which through which with which you can engage in this epoch shifting event’ Toby lines were getting more bloated but

Saul told him that it was about repeating the buzz words

107 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 over and over again underlining the fear, dangling the carrot and ‘TV was dead’, ‘Couch potatoes were heading for extinction’ ‘then drop the big names, that always gets them going particularly the boss men’, ‘Molane, Mudrock, and the even Gary Miller says so’, and three times Toby showed them the video of ME TV, Garys vision of 2000, where everyone had a widescreen Plasma PC/TV Screen, and on it a Personal Digital Assistant, a sort of sexy Virtual Reality secretary, Miss Wildchild coming out on the super size 3D

TV, ‘ You got email, sir, here you’re your appointments today sir’ and ‘ perhaps you would care to do some shopping Sir’ then a roll out of interactive ads presented by the Super Good Looking Bitch called Heidi, ‘for a personal fashion consultation based from a pre-selected range based on your previous online buying preferences,’ and the

Media guy at Power Media almost wet himself, ‘Excellent for

CRM. Intimate knowledge..Potential impact. Great’ jumping up and down on his seat.

Toby was up on the 26th floor of Canary Wharf running a demo of the Virtual Nightclub at the POWER Interactive

Advertising Conference at Power World Media, PWM. ‘You’ll meet some key brands’ was all KOK had said to him at their

108 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 lunch. ‘ Rep, your reputation that’s all you have got in the end is your rep, that and the Rolodex of course. Thou shalt not Blaspheme thy own name let alone anyone elses’. Tickle had hid a burp and said ‘whatever you say Kieran’ and for the last few weeks, with a huge PC in a laundry basket over his back like some sort of Hunchback of Leicester Square, he had been following the smooth operator through the smart offices of ad land. He felt a total twat but the onset of Tinas pregnancy had broken him, any thought about his own image, his values, be needed the Money and he needed it , it has bought him, at last to submission or was it the surrender they had gone on about in the Crypt. Just do whatever the Money demanded, he told himself sweating up another set of glossy adland stairs, there is no choice, I’m too poor to have any morals as some teacher had said on Telly and Tickle almost willed his humiliation in front of the Suits to be as horrible as possible, dogsbody failure to the Exec equating getting Money with pain, like

Love and shut up the continual gripe that he should be getting on with Millennium Hamlet his comeback, his Life

‘Ah all hail the mighty KOK, he the inventor of the greatest ad of all time... Ding Ring of... Ah..Welcome Sir’ and the

Rep very strong among the Partners, leaving Tickle to demo to Bus Dev sharp-suits and down-dressed YOOF brand snotty nosed just out of their teens Creatives, the VNC only exciting the Media people, the analysts all about numbers, demographics, reach and impacts and now Toby was in front of a half empty roomful of them after a whole day spouting the script KOK had written him called The Way of the Future: Interactivity for Brands. The sun was low, the mirrored Tower of No 1 Cabot Square now a burning flame and the room was sleepy and hot. ‘Molane, Mudrock, and the even Gary Miller says so….What the fuck was that’- a loud thud on from the window behind him, triple glazed against another IRA bomb. ‘Oh birds Sir’, said the baggy eyed security guard at the back of the room ‘it’s a bit like moths to light you know like'. He was walking up to the front where Tickle stood infront of his Powerpoint graphs.

‘Flocks fly into the side of the building, it’s a mirror isn’t it, reflects the other Towers so the birds get lost in the glass sky. Here look’ and it became his Presentation now as he pulled out a big red hanky with white spots. ‘May I’ he asked making space on the table and spread it out all the time licking his too dry lips the Librium recently imbibed, taken continually to keep his head straight. Inside there

110 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 was a row of sparrows and two purple starlings, all laid out as if asleep. ‘Look nice don’t they? Peaceful. Pity that they’re all fuckin dead. Like nails’. ‘Christ’, there was a little shriek at the back, a slam of a door as the others strained forward, a silence almost an awe with someone murmuring,

‘Corr, real Wild Life’ others with revolted URRGHHHs and then the Security Guard said to them, whispering conspiratorial, ‘ Bosses tells us to keep it shuffti' tapping the edge of his very red nose and Toby suddenly felt quite woozy. What the fuck was going on? Was he going mad?

And He felt he was going to cry?

Whark Whark Whark, the muffled calls of gulls came from behind the glass bought Tickle suddenly back to his senses.

‘Come on Money’ he said to himself, ‘Just focus on the dosh’. ‘So anyway’ he shouted out to the audience trying to get them back on his case, ‘The Virtual Nightclub and interactive advertising is the way of the future and we need your brand to put in 10K to reserve the premium spaces by the Nightclub door' hoping that the odd bit of intimacy around the birds, ‘real nature’, might now yield up some support for his cause. But most of the ad people had already drifted away and he sagged again turning off the

111 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 computer and started to roll a cigarette. He felt sick: the encroaching Baby was too real and the dynamo of Denial was running out of juice. The JobJob was a joke, a virtual livelihood because despite all the work there was no lively or hood in it at all. Nobody wanted to utilize ‘the CRM capabilities of the interactive media’: Power, Barzal Bow &

Bigarty, Shatsies, Pintas and Shelaley, all had said nice things but despite how many times Toby threw the buzzwords at them and exaggerated his lies they all said

NO, ‘thanks but we’ll pass this time’ and all Tickle was left with was a whole load of bullshit he’d just said, the exaggeration of half truths which not one wanted to believe. Yeah, his lying was getting exhausted and perhaps these guys sensed it, that’s why they didn’t buy. They sensed his lies weren’t going to hold up in the end, he’d crack, an amateur and he’d be the weakest link in the great chain of lying that they were all the key holders to. Saul had lied to him, who’d lied to himself, who’d lied to Kieran who’d lied to the Agencies, who’d lied to the Brand, who would lie to the Masses, each lie being a little steroid to keep the great cash machine pumping up going round, constantly creating the need to fill the emptiness where the real truth had been. He was the worst though, the core of

Lighting up a fag, Toby told himself that he just needed to get out before this massive multi-layered lie swallowed him completely. He inhaled deeply all tense and uncomfortable, his mind seizing up under the screw of the Con Trick his life had become. But where the fuck was he going to get some dosh for Tina and the Baby …I am powerless over of people, places and things they told him and he knew he had to give in, submit or was it surrender, this selling, this lying obsession or he’d be back on the piss, drinking, wanting only oblivion again. Yeah, he needed to resign, first things first, he needed to get back on the Program, go to a meeting, as Gwen said, get back in Recovery and back into his Story, his Life. He needed to do it now, ring Saul and then Tina and trust that it would be OK, he needed to…

‘Yah daz it gut, my friend Ian said I should go interactif’, it was Klaus, a bearded giant of a Man standing in the doorway, a grinning slim white shirt by his elbow, Ian the little Power Agency Man. Klaus was Von Braun and Von

Braun was the godhead, the Global Marketing Director of

Zeus Inc with a $500m annual spend and Toby Tickle, five

113 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 minutes later found himself saying as if on automatic ‘Yes sure we’ll put in a virtual football pitch, (a LIE) after all it’s a Nightclub inside a town, like Sim City (a LIE). Your stars can drink at the bar even’ (a LIE) ‘we can get a satellite link up to do commentary (a LIE) after the match interactively’ (a LIE) and he kept at it, lying, ‘paraphrasing’ the patients needs as Tina did with her counseling clients,

Toby repeating back to the Great Klaus whatever he wanted the Virtual Nightclub to do, each ‘Yah’ of the giant making Toby want to lie more, to get whatever was there, go in for more more greedy frightened that this first time might be the last time that the Money, there in the huge glass Tower the birds blood stain still hot on the pane other

Towers lighting up around them square by square as the sky deepened into a red orange and the great swirls of black starling’s started to scream circling the million multiplying lights, that the Money finally letting him, Tickle, inside itself, and Toby had, at last, struck his first big deal.

‘Gooooooooaaaaal Da da da daa dada dadadada Goal Goal

Goal A fucking result’ said Saul ‘Gooooooooaaaaal Da da da daa dada dadadada Goal Goal Goal It could be you, it could be you too Gooooooooaaaaal..Toby you’ve made it, you’ve

Office, finally the world’s defense had given way and finally he was inside the Money again, ‘A fucking result Well done

Mate’ laughed Saul loudly doing his jig around the corridors.

‘Yeah, at last’ said Toby feeling exhausted like a second time with Tina but inside he felt uneasy, deep down he knew that once he took it, the Money, it meant all of the lying would become real and so he too officially would a fraud, he would have really sold out completely, a full blown capitalist whore. ‘Oh bollocks, we’re all tarts mate, don’t be silly, you gotta eat son’ guffawed Saul, ‘Come on, enjoy, you’re a winner now, have a toke on this’ offered the

Boss in reply to Tobys self-incriminating muttering, on the balcony having a celebratory spliff. ‘You got to cut corners, it’s the way of the world mate, in Business its how Money works’ and Toby said Fuck it and inhaled a huge drag and looked up and saw, high up its tassle jiggling like a tail, a red balloon, not Bartones airship but a childrens party one, heading West and Tickle couldn’t stop himself giggling. Red balloons over London, it hadn’t been since before Maggie with Ken and his GLC free parties, that summer before the alcoholic nightmare had begun, the time when he still had a life and a belief that he too could become what he had wanted to be that Indian inkling he had and still held onto.

The little boy and the red balloon; wasn’t that a film he’d seen once or had he just imagined it? but yes, it was another sign. It wasnt wrong the lying, it was the way of the world innocence was still available and after all the bullshitting was with the best intentions, looking after the

Baby, Tina, getting back to his truth, it was just a slight deviation in order to get there a little bit quicker that was.

Things can only get better, a song sang in his head from somewhere, Things can only get better and yes, everything was going to be alright. All wells and all will be well as Saul

NLP chanting said and yes he would get well again, recover the confidence, his own Ding… Ring of…

And the Fat Man watched the last one disappear over the leafless poplars heading south towards the City, like a procession of cardinals tassels dangling in the breeze, the red balloons flew out over the Essex flatlands across the

M25 along the Thames Valley west towards town. Santa

Moore couldn't resist opening one more sackful even if the party wasn’t until tomorrow. Should be a good trick, the kids will love it, and so will his Boys. ‘Sorry sir, did you mean to say ten?’, ‘Yup’. ‘You do know how much ten will cost sir?’ ‘Yup’ and the white bearded Buyer had laughed to

116 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 himself. Ten of everything they used to call him in HK, in the Sushi restaurant he always used to order ten of everything for his darling Lads, the Traders, made it easier didn’t it, kept it simple and it made them all laugh. Never got to grips with the Nip language but the Chinks made sure they knew numbers everyfuckingwhichway for sure.

Santa sighed. He missed that, the straight forwardness of the life there out East. Work, money, eat, that was the way; more meant more of, everything. ‘Yeah, that’s it mate, Ten Van loads of balloons’, a bit much, but well, at least they’d know he was back. ‘Haven’t you heard of the law of abundance, mate’ ‘Err No Sir’ said the spotty sales guy and the fat man had laughed. Why bother telling them, the Others, the Spectators, more for the Players to take in the end. He had the Bouncy Castle, Hot tubs, Champers and the rest, fake snow, hot fans and fireworks and he was going as Father Christmas. Ok, it was a hot September but fuck it, it was his name after all and he was back and he wanted the Boys to know he was back and the same and that he had something Big in his swag bag. He had a New

Game for them to play with, the Internet and this one was going to be the Big One, make the Big Bang look like Childs

Doomsday and everyone was going to be part of it and for him and his Boyz it was going to be crème de la cream all round. Kev, Mike, John, Ian, all the lads who’d been with him in the 80s, good times in Aldgate, Tokyo and Hong

Kong, he’d tell them what the deal was, the ins and the outs, the vision and he knew that most, if not all, would come along with him. Some had wives still and others had succumbed to the coke and heartburn but they’d all move with him he knew, they were his Boyz, part of his gang.

Then he’d go and chat up, after they’d had a few, the Pepsi guy and the Barclays VP who lived down the road, (his street in Rollswood was like a fucking top Brand yellow pages), and they’d see his success and all knew what

Success breeds, more of and they’d come along too. He was, in Business the Business, full of Desire for More of and both Brands and Banks need in Business the Business to make the Money go round, yeah, where he went he knew they would follow too. And Santa looked up at the sheen blanket of sky. No, it was going to be easy, just get on the

Merry Go Round, the Big Dipper and see. ‘Did I get the

Stars Wars in’ he asked himself, he wanted the whole lot set up for the kids and for him of course, later, when everyone had fucked off home. Couldn’t get enough of

HKfuckufucky, always used.

‘Prick. Where’s the fuckin' money Saul? Where that’s hey?

So fuck you, if I said we’re doing Tremor Virus first, that’s it, we’re doing it first and Electrobux wants us to too, we want to and anyway Gameplay that’s where it’s at now, not

3D music mags VR immersive worlds and all that shit so fuck you’. Two months later Jasons teeth were bared and the animals without feed were turning on each other now.

‘You fucking cheat, cunt, after all I’ve done for you’ Saul whimpered ‘Forget it Saul my old mate, you’re going to have to wait your turn; its my team not yours, we’re the ones who actually make the stuff, serve you right for calling me a fucking nerd’ Jason snarled at his so called Bossman who, goggle eyed couldn’t believe that he’d been shafted by his Boys, his recruits revolting and royally screwed by

Electrobux, shafted him up the arse again. ‘Strike, what about you?’ Saul pleaded. ‘Ah gee. I’m sorry Saul,’ said

Strike looking all sheepish like Chandler in Friends, ‘I’m only a hired hand, I am not the producer’ Strike said matter of factly, ‘You’re going to have to put the club on hold’.

‘Hold?’ Toby was shaking ‘I’ve got a Baby coming’ ‘Shh’ said

Saul’ that’s not the point’ Toby couldn’t handle it, ‘What is the point? Why are we here, to make nothing out of nothing you fucking upstart wannabe would be producer Saul you cunt’ Toby wanted to say but he didn’t, hurrying out instead going for another spliff. It really was a fucking disaster, what would Tina say? What the fuck was he going to do?

‘Believe me, its par for the course old boy, just relax it will come back round’ said KOK on the phone, ‘But but but...’

Toby was totally out of his depth, his acting the businessman was breaking down, the role was falling apart now. Never get emotional with the Money he’d heard, family and friends it always ends in tears. But what about the Baby, what about Tina, what were they going to do about the house now for Christ sake? Believe me, Be

Positive, Just Trust me, It’ll be alright you’ll see, he’d been telling her for years and now her worry about things would only make matters worse. Oh No and No sex for Gods sake, how now could he relieve his stress, what was he going to use to fend off this ball-breaking fear? Tickle looked across into Lisle St and took a big lug of smoke hoping it would make what had just happened disappear. The Mahjong

120 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 players weren’t playing their game and the floors below were now ablaze with feverish feeding. What was he going to do? Dog eat dog but he didn’t really believe it then but, with Jason the terrier biting into Sauls hell, he did now.

Above, a small plane was blinking red and it looked as if it was heading towards the top of the BT Tower? It seemed to be heading straight for it? Toby held his breath. The plane went into the disk at the top of the building, then came out the side and Tickle breathed out. The Tower stood out above the skyline, like a pin holding the rest of the horizon up and Toby saw that without the Tower as the lynchpin the whole façade would fall, the whole City coming tumbling down around him like a set curtain or a broken stack of cards.

To be or not to be; some actor guy in Rehab had said it was Hamlets relapse speech, to jack up or not to jack up, perhaps even to OD. The up and down of it all, the deal fucked and now left no where with the Virtual Nightclub collapsed, it was all doing his head in, nothing ever stable the future always unclear. .and by a sleep to say we end the heartache tis a consummation devoutly to be wished… and he really needed oblivion now Toby told himself, he

Recovery, fuck the programme, fuck God, Fuck it all, at least when you are out of it you knew where you stood. He had tried To live life on life terms as that wet Gwen always told him, be a good boy and do a normal job, not drink, be

Honest blah blah blah de blah. He had tried the best he could, but it didn’t work, it hadn’t delivered, the World wasn’t like that, dogs eating dogs in a jungle of lies that was how it was. Fuck it, he needed to go somewhere else entirely, get out of it, the IT being somewhere which, although it had almost killed him before, seemed for Toby

Tickle still, compared to all the uncertainty around him, even now, somewhere entirely safe in which to hide.

Whose getting Europe?’ demanded Wayne Mudrock, high up above the centre London in his executive Jet. ‘Bert’,

‘Whose the Fucks he?’, ‘Mallach. He’s got Electrobux now’,

‘What’s it worth’, ‘5.4’ ‘And the telecom guy?’, ‘Bernies riding for a fall, he’s even invited frigging Liz One over his ranch and I know his numbers don’t add up beyond Q 2 next year’ ‘I’m in for VMK once they’ve taken over Bernies

Worldtel’, ‘Nice’, ‘OK the board’s on board OK ’,’ Where the signing’ ‘Hong Kong Wednesday’ ‘Where you flying into?’,

‘Sing sing, gotta sign on the Metro deal’, ‘ ‘How you finding it the new Gulfstream?’ ‘Expensive, shit on gas, does 22

Gallons to the mile’, ‘Yeah but the Emir cuts me a deal,

Jack set it up’, ‘Warry says he’d got a new company leasing jets on the Net’, ‘ Neat. Smart Guy Warry Top Dog. So see you at the Summit as well?’, ‘Don’t forget to pack your skis the snows nice and hard”, ‘Its not the snow I’m worried about getting hard, not at my age anyway mate’, and then the two men others might call old, happy to get to the meat of the matter, for the remaining three minutes their PAs had allowed for the Concall, discussed their various enquiries into Potency and Rejuvenation, Immortality and the cheating of time. ‘Its the manipulation of the pineal gland, governor of light and dark that the key stuff’ said

Molane, not giving away his secret investment in the Stem

Cell research at KurtWeil Labs with Dr K, while Mudrock

‘Nice, but have you looked a Libido transplant’ not disclosing what Can Hail Fok had promised the older man on that front, a sweetener for the acquisition of Comet TV.

Fuckers, said Wayne, as he put the phone down London below, for a moment his blood pressure rising, slightly woozy suddenly feeling lost, was it day or night, winter,

123 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 summer, north or south of the Equator, Asia or the States? recovering his customary balance only by focusing on when would be the optimum time to strike and muscle out Molane with the bid for Freedom and at the very same time on the ground. At the same time Molane was allowing himself a smirk, having got Mudrock to agree on Mallach coming on board, his old ally and knowing that with Miller onside too, if he’d get Connie R in Washington to OK it, his Plan would inevitably come to pass as his Plans usually did and MUD

International would be out and it’d be my Information not their running on my Superhighway, ‘so fuck you Outback

Asshole’ he said out loud again.

‘Fuckers.’ said Agman ‘Waste ‘em; around here it’ll only cost a few hundred quid’, it was a couple of hours later and

Agamemnon was driving Toby fast into East London to score some high. Agamemnon’s battered jacket and oily fingers made him look like a crim mechanic, though really he was just another would be actor, a Cypriots shipbuilders son who’d gone off the rails failing off the Stage and into being another drug dealer instead. Already Tickle felt better though; he was in a supersoft ride going sliding through the darkness, the loud music, worn leather and thick-aired

124 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 warmth soothed him as he sucked on the Valium his feet up on pressing against the window, heading East into more of the same. ‘Fuck it I need to get wasted…Fuck normal life it’s a sodding con…’ Tickle was ranting at Agman as they skidded around the Old Street roundabout, a GAP poster of

Jennifer from Friends, Rachel stuck between on the two giant white horns, still wearing cotton dresses even though it was Autumn, but somehow incongruously apt.

Toby and Agman were going to Smithys in Shoreditch, who was an old mate of Tommy the dealer who they’d all hung around with in the 80s doing coke. But along with the laughter of their twenties Tommy had faded too, dying of bowel cancer only a few months back, ‘Fucking IBS’ he’d called it, the pain, for years and at the end once he’d known it was something else, Agamemnon and Jake had taken him around Europe, one last trip, back home to

Cyprus, Tommy spending his last weeks furiously painting pictures in oil. He’d originally set out to be a painter, going to St Martins in the glorious sixties, but becoming sidetracked, briefly, forever, another one wasted somewhere along the way to somewhere good. He’d painted twenty canvases really fast at the end, as if to

125 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 make up the lost time and all had a white hare type figure in them. Toby remembered each being in a vain pose in front of a dirty dark backgrounds and he wondered if that’s how Tommy saw himself; the dodgy geezer always late or the rabbit in the headlights frozen with fear, the coward who’d run out of time?

‘Shakespeare Circle. Hah...Smithy buried 3 kilos of cocaine in that one’ said Agman, pointing to the park in the labyrinth of red brick council housing. ‘Couldn’t find the fucker, diff brain’d lost it, the Adams would have gone apeshit, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of that

Family, shitting our bricks we were, spent hours trying to find it, ended up digging up the whole place’ he said getting lost in maniac laughter. It was easy to get disorientated in the concentric curves of the same looking blocks; Keats

House, Wordsworths, Blakes, and Smithys flat was on

Coleridges curve two storeys up.

‘Hi. You alright?’ a fresh faced man, no lines but with a hangdog expression and a Beatle mop peered around the door, a chain cutting across his face like a moustache...

‘Hiya’ said Smithys girlfriend, very thin, with a batch of

Agman ‘Like a cup of tea or some ink?’ she asked sweetly,

‘Yeah fine. No sugar.’ In the sitting room was a black guy with dreads and a denim shirt. Kevin. ‘Alright’. He had a guitar. Strumming and humming. It sounded shit.

‘Alright’, ‘Alright’, ‘Yeah Alright’. Everyone was alright and waiting for something to happen, the Crack, to begin. An obese spliff was being passed round. When was the stuff going to arrive everyone was thinking, when?

‘What do you do?’ snarled Kevin. Agman pushed Toby; he was an unknown entity and needed to sooth the gathering paranoia in the room. So Toby started his shpeel on the

Virtual Nightclub again; ‘Couch potatoes were heading for extinction blah blah’, he’d said it so many times blabbling onto Brand execs it was almost automatic. ‘That sounds cool.. We could do a feature on this’ said Teri. It turned out she was an assistant editor at the Sunday Times Mag. ‘Do you think they could get me in the club ‘said Kevin ‘I’m mixing some tracks. Here listen’? and Kevin put on the tape. Toby, gaining bravado reassuming his producer pose said ‘Sure, give us a copy, Ill see what I can do’, ‘Right

Jolly good’ said Agman grabbing Tickle by the arm, ‘Lets get on with it’.

And soon they were passing around the pipe, the users were using, something else to get them out of their trees, the little rock of plastic coke bubbling sickly in the center.

The inky smoke sped through Tickles brain as if he’d been waiting for it for ages, for the hot air to blow into his marrow bone and evaporate the pain in his head.

Throughout the room the tension eased, soft smiles of contentment emerging. ‘I’m doing this photographic course next week’ suddenly said Smithy ‘get back in game, this time make it work’ ‘That’s right I’m going to be his agent’ said Teri tightly holding her dealer blokes arm. ‘Ill get you in the Sunday Times Magazine too if you want’ ‘For sure’ said Tickle, ‘And I’m driving the getaway car’ Agman said, oddly, to one side. They were all jabbering at the same time, wires drawing back the corners of all their mouths, teeth bared.

Then it was quiet, except for the twang of Kevins guitar and slightly moany voice on the tape. The pipe was finished and

‘Better go’ ‘Yeah we’d better split, ‘Yeah sick of the music, its shite’, said Toby surprised at his tone. Luckily Kevin hadn’t heard and Agman bundled him down the stairs manic feet echoing down the stairwell. ‘You fuckin’ cunt’ he said to Toby revving up the car but laughing, ‘that Kevin he’s a seriously heavy geezer, he’s just got out of

Belmarsh, Manslaughter, and there’s you slagging off his shit guitar- you could have come to serious grief there mate’, he said giggling, gunning the Citroen out of the Poet

Circles as they headed south of the river, the artificial highness making the damp night come alive again, lights bright burning in the dead City glare.

------

BLACKOUT

------

One's real life is often the life that one does not lead

Oscar Wilde

Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a

long lonely time. Time, goes by so slowly…

He didn’t know where he was. For a moment he saw himself, a shrunken wax figure lying prone all naked and white, slightly luminous at the bottom of a dark hole.

Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a

long lonely time. Time, goes by so slowly…

Staring up at the flat mirror disc of the overhanging light. It was day outside although the room was dark, low cloud rain almost. What had happened? Where had he been? His mind struggled to get back somewhere. Oh shit..Did he have a drink?

Don’t pick up the first drink. First things first. Think Think

Think, he reached out for the mantras that had kept him going away from the drink, out of that old pit for so long

Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a

long lonely time. Time, goes by so slowly…

No, come on, move. He tried to get up, but his body was a dead weight, the pressure of organs aching, in suspension, defying movement.

BLACKOUT

Still again. Where had he been? How long had he been asleep?

Today the Government outlined to EU leaders its long- awaited anti-BSE plan. It has already slaughtered 124,000 older dairy cattle and 150,000 more are destined for the country's overwhelmed incinerators. A deal in Brussels is far from sure, since the Continent remains deeply suspicious of British sincerity…

‘Going to do a fucking wedding. Someone has to get some money.. See you later Twat’.

Silence.

‘Tina?’

Door slamming.

She’d left on the radio.

News.

What day?

….today he testifies before a jury in the civil case for the first time. He denies killing Goldman or his former wife, but cannot explain the physical evidence against him. Six months ago OJ was acquitted in the most controversial celebrity trial for many years, acquitted of a murder many believed impossible to refute…

Our. Hour. Hours..

The window.

A rectangle of golden light fading to grey then black.

A Cows eye rearing out of darkness, wet snouts pressed against the glass, cow eating the brain of cow, black and white hide steaming, blood drenched, staggering about, hooves slipping, and then falling, as if drunk, dead

Two feet on a windscreen, ‘ You fucking twat You’ve made a fucking crack in the Screen’ Agman seething about the cars window then another two Valium, empty streets, the river

133 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 and the rain, Stockwell. A squat house, MLF music blaring, walls knocked through, massive sound, blacked out windows, white faces, jam packed rooms, FOR LOVE NOT

MONEY scrawled on the wall in neon lights, Kenny Tugsten burning fistfuls of 50 pounds notes on a big video Screen, the Wicker man, a fire in a croft tons of money, burning, fluttering notes edges alight floating into the night and here’s Kennys’ wife pregnant, studs and mini skirt pink shiny and was that Alisha, Tinas friend, in between the pillars there kissing Kenny and there was another bloke

Tina knew, Tim, always there hanging around the media edge, had he fucked her too? Was she here? Another one to join the IvefuckedTina queue and that fat bald bloke from

Eastenders, crap actor but with an I’ve made it so fuck you glare.

Heavy beat music shaking the doorframes, Agman pulling him down to the basement, silver foil, paper planes, ‘Bring us down mate’ burnt hair and tin tongues, ‘this is the business’, a brown pool of heroin dark desire running along the beaten metal gutter, a puff and hot wind blowing through the heart, happy for a moment, the tear drops burning out to a dirty dry stain, almost black. What then?

Nothing.

BLACKOUT

Again.

..clock news from the BBC .. the trial into the real estate scandal known as the Whitewater case ended badly for

President Clinton… As D Day Commemorations commence in France, Dutch peacekeepers are under attack for the desertion of Potcari cited in the UN report on the massacre of over 5000 Muslims at Srebrenica. .. our special correspondent Ora Giron reports….

Green Eyes.

Hurt.

‘Tickle you’re a liar a hopeless lying fool, a fraud and a cheat’ Tinas finger wagging.

What’s that? A Baby crying too?

Production suspended.

Obsession crippled.

Utterly, incomplete.

What could he do now?

Instinct damaged beyond repair.

Inaction.

Despair.

‘Death is Lifes Greatest event’ Mr Leary declared before the

Internet broadcast of his passing away last week in

California. ‘Time to enter the third eye’. One of the leading advocates of the use of Hallucgenic drugs critics point to his revealing of the names of the Weatherman as proof of his essential reactionary leaning. ‘I believe telling the truth is the best way to get out of jail’ he said in his defence…

What had happened?

The Virtual Nightclub, the Money. Nothing.

Nothing had happened.

But it was meant to be something real, something tangible, the concrete of technology, the jobjob the VNC, the boring bits of the paper, 9-5, 10-12 1zero1zero111zero zero11

136 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 and, puff. Now it was gone, the fantasy about the fantasy about the fantasy and he was wandering around no mans land shouting in the desert, the evangelist for a phantom ranting denial, mouthing about something that no longer existed or perhaps never really did so...

.…‘Lock him so far down that when he does die, he'll be closer to hell. That is where the devil belongs." Susan

Mosser wife of Thomas, PR man for Exxon Corp, killed in

1994 by the Unabomber said today after the verdict was delivered in court…

‘Shit. Still there arsehole...two days you know ... when you are going to get out of bed..’ ‘Tina no, Water please’.

‘Are you ill? Sod you, you can listen to this shit till you get up. Rise and shine Baby it time to start living again…Here listen to this shit again.’

Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a

long lonely time. Time, goes by so slowly…

‘It’s hurting. I’m going to check it out.. Coming? Fuck you’

Door, slamming, again.

I need your love,

God speed your love to me!

Ring, the telephone ringing. Fuck it. Ringing, telephone again. Fuck it. Ringing again, ringing ringing...a distant door closing shut, the call, ‘Come quick’, a trail of corridors, the disinfectant working into the nostril lining, stretched queues of people, posters and white coats scurrying along the lino and where was she? There she was so pale and despondent propped up on pillows there, the hemorrhaging had gone on for hours they said but they couldn’t get through to him in time and the Baby was now dead and she had almost died too.

‘I’m sorry I’m sorry’ I’m sorry I’m..’ was the first thing she said, ‘I didn’t mean to’, ‘I know’, ‘Sorry’ ‘Never mind, we can try again’, his mind switching to the mechanical the body not wanting MOT failing and he hugged her but felt his sinews go tight needing to escape, angry his flesh screaming; the reason, why?

He just wanted to go, he just couldn’t stand the waste. He just couldn’t accept it, the thing sliding off the wall like that, the Baby gone. ‘It couldn’t hold on to the womb lining. It was a boy you know’ and his stomach turned over inside out again and he left.

Gone, it was happening somewhere else, another life, not his, the child, his child, it had gone, sluiced out a dot down some plughole, washed out of her and with it all the possibilities, the great mound of life washed away and he had looked into her large broken eyes and wanted to cry but couldn’t, anger blocking up all the way. Anger at her for inflicting this on him, anger mutating into a blank ga-ga trying to be positive but unable; anger at the Baby wailing at them through the ward coming from somewhere else and anger at himself, the him and the you, the person who couldn’t get it together, somehow to blame, his lack, the lying, his shame, all part of it, the sliding away the waste, his life sliding to somewhere away from what he saw his life was meant to be, should be, gone.

And he broke out across the car park in front of the hospital, a frantic drumming on old Corsas and Mondeos, hot rain falling from a thick sky screaming out loud up towards it now…

‘You fucking cunt…Fuck You...Why did you let him die?’….

The production of too many useful things results in too

many useless people.”

Karl Marx

The eye shot out from under an almost white lid and if it wasn't for the little flecks of blood, the curled albino eyelash could have been called sweet. Then the huge sow turned back to the guts of the runt that had been gored by one of the barrow boars and Barry Reddot was sure he saw a hint of regret in the prize Gloucestershire Old Spots expression, as it nuzzled back into the red wet straw.

Your World’s Just Got Smaller , the new BarAir motto on his red balloon and yeah small and hard, sad but true, all is in the food chain and you end up where you are and again

Barry admired the curve of the sows midriff, the sheen of the pink and black flesh, the healthy sparkle in its fevered eye. Beatrice was another prizewinner for sure and it made

140 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 him almost glad. He loved his pigs, always had since his boyhood on the farm near Mold; the smell, the intelligent activity of the herd, the urgent hankering for sex and food, the rutting and the fucking, sweety piglets and the rest.

The PR people back at Bartone Plc didn’t like it though, the piggery; the footie and airlines were OK, formula 1 and ballooning were good for the Brand image, Bartone had even bought a basketball team last season, some deal to do with Zeus, but really, although Barry did all the glad handing and said the right words to the press, his real passion was now for pigs.

After all the years of business build and consolidation, 20 hours days, London, New York, Sydney, HK, buy sell, buy sell, buy, now he just wanted the solid and the tangible, the smell of something real. Shit; it stank rank but it was good and Barry breathed deeply. He looked out through the soft rain, over the long sweep of grass hillside across to the far valley, then another, then another, then over into the far off mist and intimations of sea. Madonna and Guy owned the next estate, then there was an industrialist and one banker either side, but it didn’t matter, each had their own kingdom and there were no gaps in between, they all

141 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 understood each other and this was it then, at last, complete privacy, ownership and control. He looked out and saw the oaks turning orange, the bright celebration of another year passing soon, all bountiful resplendent and he felt…. absolutely nothing. Shit.

Burying his habitual disappointment at the narrowness of his emotional range Barry turned back to Beatrice. Yes, shit, that was where it was at, at least it was real and Barry breathed in deeply again. Shit helped him remember who he was and what he had become, keeping a lid on that odd feeling that he was having, increasingly often, that he, purely by chance, had arrived on a totally alien Planet Zog.

A twitch at the back of his head meant he had to do something. Zog. Planet. Planet Hollywood, that was it. Was that 3.5 down the drain or what? Bob and Arn had twisted his arm, good for profile the PR had said, build the Bartone brand blah blah blah and he had a mad urge to grunt like

Beatrice, but didn’t, then he remembered Dirk, son no 2 of

No 1, who urgently needed sorting out and soon. Ziggy,

No1 was long gone, a Sadhu somewhere in Rajasthan. And it was Debbies anniversary soon. Two years dead. OD’d.

Dead. Poor girl. Oh Gawd but odd; he didn’t feel anything

142 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 about that much either. One left and the runt, Dirk, now needed a position, he couldn’t shovel shit here forever, he needed something in the Company, safely out of trouble but safely under control. That was the only way to protect him and perhaps ensure a living, if not actual inheritance, in these anti nepotistic times and, wanting to shift the irritation in his crotch another problem had brought, Barry threw Beatrice a cabbage as if her eating of it would relive his pain.

‘Multimedia has legs’, Garthside at Pilgrimage had told, KOK numbers guy and Barry had always trusted KOK. It was the

Way of the Future he’d said and it sounded good too; there was another rush on the way, boom time and the Going

Mad Greedy, everyone wanting more of, fuck the consequences so there. Once a decade it happened, it seemed, the cycle, perhaps after the memory of the previous recession had faded enough to allow the risk and greed to come back again. Boom and Bust, the Cycle goes on as sure as Beatrice becoming Ham. Shit happened Barry sighed, it was all too human I’m afraid. Anyroad, he had to get into it, a thing called Virtual Nightclub was up for grabs that’s what KOK had said, would fit well with a thing called

Cabby, Yellow pages for Internet whatever that meant and he could buy it cheap apparently via a proxy so no risk to

Rep, KOK had said. Cabby takes you where you want to go, was its motto, quite neat really.

Keith, his old mate, had said he was going to buy into it too with that music guy who did those talent shows, some idiot on Live TV Simon says, the sort of geezer Barry’d given an armful of singles to in the old days to hand out at the clubs, real piss shit dens then when he’d started out, selling bucket loads of metal out of the Transit down from Wales.

Good on you Keith, Barry muttered, sold up and you too had the dosh now. What was his thing called? Needles and?

Hadn’t the partner died suddenly? Pity and Barry signed again. Keith was sound though and Barry made a little note in his head to make the affirmative call the following day.

Zog, Dirk and Keith, that was enough for his own head to cope with, Patricia managed the rest of his toodoo and increasingly he just followed her instructions. Hey Ho, now it was about just letting it happen, glad handing and smelling out the ones trying to rip you off and fuck everything up. It was all about sorting good shit from bad.

He felt like a fucking moronic Icon sometimes, there to be

144 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 venerated as long as he didn’t move, actually do anything sudden. And he saw it again, that eye, shooting out from behind the shades, when Tony’d left him when Bartone had first gone public and Barry had sort of shafted him cutting him out the bigger deal. But, See you later alligator was all

Tony had said, waving in his happy carefree way, as if he knew something Barry didnt. Good luck mate, he’d said despite Barry being a shit, as though Tony knew he wasn’t going to be so rich but at least he’d be free to stay fully alive, free to live all those dreams they’d had in the first place when, as two fresh faced hippies, they’d started out belting down the M6 just built giggling gobbling mushroom swigging cider free love laughing and lugging spliff.

Irritated again Barry grunted, the pain of the loss made worst by him knowing that on this vast estate with all the

Worlds power at his disposal he should still feel so uneasy, unwell and he worried again where his fucking son Dirk was. It was time for feeding, one of Dirks chores and Barry wanted to tell his Plan for him, although he knew that it probably wouldn’t work, but he had to do something for his

Reps sake if nothing else. Oh Gawd. And as the sun set over the far horizon a pink sludge beyond the mist began to

145 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 fill up valley bottoms and no soul was there to hear the series of bellowing grunts, then a long low howl, half pig half stag excruciatingly mixed with a high pitched squeal.

I need your love I need your love. God speed your love, to

me.

Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a

long lonely time. Time, goes by so slowly…

It was on again but Tina didn’t hear it anymore. She was having yet another fag worrying about Toby, trying to bury the emptiness growing inside her. She was trying to believe that Virtual Reality was Real, the Virtual Nightclub was going to happen and it wasn’t a fabrication of Tickles insanely erratic mind. He was driving her mad. At first she had gone with her instinct, letting herself fall for him her

Prince Charming, even if she knew he was a pest, but it was a feeling she only had had once before, mad love as that fucker Freud called it and that was with Lee. ‘You’re lucky to feel it once let alone twice’ she’s always said and she didn’t want to go through another breakup, the wrenching pain of that split with Lee still sent shots through her midriff, made her feel sick the same as the fucking

Pregnancy but in another more frightening way. It felt like oblivion, lost in herself, a negative rather than a plus, a back hole, an abyss as Toby always went on about. No, she wanted Toby to stay, she wanted this one to be Real. She needed a Baby, something to make her whole and part of, for her Life to move on. But why couldn’t Toby just get sorted, cut out the doubt, get a job, a jobjob, be Normal, so she didn’t have to worry all the time if they could afford to get anything to eat.

DO AND CHARLES TO SEPARATE

Evening Standard Special Edition

QUEEN TO GIVE HER ASSENT

Another headline, another divorce, it always made her queasy, since being a child, the other kids thinking she must be weird without a Dad. Is that why she always hung on to the end, the bitterest? Last Sunday, down to their last fiver, her and Toby had done a car boot sale down at the Angel. It was freezing, a harsh wind blowing and only a few ugly stalls but Tina had taken all her glam 80s gear, the Jean Paul Gaultier, Comme des Garcons, and Boy stuff from the time when that Brand, she and Lee were the latest happening things.

INQUIRY LATEST

QUEEN DEEPLY DISTRESSED

MYSTERY WHITE CAR SEEN

Thousands mourning, the funeral only a month before, all the flowers in London had gone and with them the tears of millions shed for a far more innocent time. ‘Come on quick.

I’m starving’. Toby only had a few books to put on their stall and some guy had then come, a slimy dealer from

Notting Hill, ‘Vintage’ he’d said which was a bit sad in itself.

Was she so old now, was she destined to be always barren, alone? ‘Nice gear’ he’d said sneering, seeing she was desperate offering only a hundred quid for the whole lot when she knew it was worth much more and it felt as if he was taking the last bit of her, or at least her last bit of aspiration, even Hope. And although her and Toby did laugh a little afterwards, the first time since the shit-thing, the

Loss had happened, like kids giggling at themselves for being so happy they could afford to have a big breakfast, underneath it felt as if another bit of her had left, as if she been even more abandoned, not by Dad, Lee or Toby, but by herself, with the Baby, another one, another part of her leaving, irredeemably gone.

…..the chromosome content is incompatible with life and the pregnancy miscarries. It is important to stress that these errors occur randomly and are rarely a cause of recurrent miscarriage….in a small percentage of couples, between 3 and 5%, one partner possesses abnormal chromosomes which they repeatedly pass on to the fetus.

The most common condition is when the chromosomes, although being of the correct number, are arranged differently. This is called a balanced or reciprocal translocation and is a recognised cause of recurrent miscarriages…

The Clinic booklet didn’t reassure her. OK, it was only her second, they don’t even offer consultation till the third, but she sensed it was somehow terminal, deep down she felt that there was incompatibility between her and Toby and although she hated to admit it, she knew that he didn’t really think straight, ‘got a bit of a screw lose’ as her mum had always said. She’d thought the alcoholic would go once he’d stopped drinking, she didn’t know it was anything else, she didn’t want to know it was a mental illness, as Dr Karl the fancy lecturer at Uni had said, because that meant accepting that ‘being normal’ was just not available to them, which meant that she would now never find it for herself, the Normal that the other kids had.. Oh Gawd.

Should she leave him, stay or try again? And she again thought about Tickle, his uselessness, what a twat he sometimes was. At least her slagging of him kept her mind off it, the emptiness, and Tina sighed. She had one friend at least, one sure companion through the grief and strife, it had saved her Life. Thank God for Silk Cut.

‘Louder Higher More, ‘Mufferfucker’, Say it again, just mouth it’. It was Zeak fiddling with his stupid goatee beard, like some left bank student telling the failed actor what to do. ‘Try and exaggerate your movement,’ he said. Tickle had shades on and was holding a ruler like a gun, ‘That’s it, jump in and say Fuck you you motherfucker and fire’ Tickle felt a prat, a clown in a kids party, hovering between trying to and going through the motions. This was what he was reduced to, the greatest Hamlet since Burton now a fucking stand-in for a fucking cartoon.

Zeak didn’t know anything about acting or about drama and didn’t really care, but ‘real people’ gave Virus that filmic edge and Zeak, another one of the Driven, saw Virus only as a stepping stone to a Feature and soon they were going to be all the same thing, Digital and Interactive and fucking

Virtual Nightclub was since autumn parked in Lot 23x/35rd- vr2001 stored in the warehouse of good ideas that couldn’t get made and Virus Mind was now IT, it, rather than eye t, or maybe both, the real thing, the real killer app to be and

Tickle didn’t have a part in it. ‘We need someone thinner’

Zeak said, not even looking at Tickle in the eye, as the would be auteur moved to tick off the next thing on his

Apple Newton toodoo list Screen.

Another rejection. Oh Gawd Toby needed money soon.

After the betrayal, relapse and hospital shock the only people who wanted him were those seeking repayment of debt. Messrs Green and Green and Brown, South Mouton

Street, Strictly confidential. This morning Tickle had screwed up another one of the letters all saying the same thing: I am writing on behalf of my clients the American

Express Financial Corporation incorporated in Delaware. He had been hiding from them in the basement, surrounded by screwed up tissues and papers ‘vital research’, trying to stop his ego collapsing. ‘Wanking around in your bunker’

Tina shouted down at him and the fact was he was indeed fucked, emotionally, spiritually, financially, about to be

Arrangement to cope with the AMEX debt, the bankruptcy without the public shame, which had cost him his last 2K.

Last week he’d gone to a jaded little office in Pimlico to meet a man with a shiny suit and red tie dripping from his neck. Mr Valcon was going to talk to the Corporation and the rest of the debtors to persuade them to each take only a little piece of their debt, ‘20p in the pound we’re hoping for’ and the idea was then to lie and pump up the size of the debts of those who didn’t need paying back,’ feel free to be economical with the truth’ the man had said, so Tickle had included Jake, Agman, Tina, no she was too honest, anyone he could think of, ‘as long as they’ll stand up and back you up in court’. The terrifying process had turned out quite painless, apart from the humiliation, and now it seemed to Toby that rather than getting itself back the main thing Money wanted was control, because all company debt chasers he’d been fending off for the last eighteen months were now being really nice to him. ‘So sorry Mr.

Tickle sir, but I’m afraid a letter may have crossed over since the agreement was ratified.’’ But then again, given that he’d be tied into the agreement for the next 3 years, he was well and truly crucified, fucked, no credit, no cheques, everything over a certain amount paid to them,

Itcould be you.

Toby left Zeak and Predator and walked into Soho, feeling an alien in the busy City. Having turned his Life over to

Money it had been turned into a set of figures and the IVA confirmed his Life was a big minus now. He really did feel like topping himself. He couldn’t take drugs anymore, no more oblivion, the last nightmare show with Agman had told him that and the miscarriage felt like some sort of retribution and really he just wanted to disappear, do a runner like Agman who’d gone back to Cyprus to see a bloke called Razil…‘gotta really good scam in going on a thing called web someink...’. But for Tickle, Tina still at home imprisoned by her post non natal depression, the IVA and the VNC aborted, there seemed there was no escape.

Was this the real Rock Bottom, the emotional rock bottom the Crypt had always gone on about? Would he surrender now? He felt little fight, little life in him left.

To be to be Toe bee Toby Toby the voices called out again across Greek Street; Too bee or not Toby. Oh shit he didn’t know or care really now, Millennium Hamlet was dead and

153 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 it was in a dream of uselessness that Tickle was now walking around Soho pretending to Tina that all was going well, ‘Electrobux money is about to come through and

Believe me, we’re just about to hit the jackpot, and then we can get sorted and try again for Baby, get the house with a garden and everything.’ The lying made him feel he was entirely separate from himself, being followed by another him, the honest one upset that it was being slowly killed.

Toby needed to get out of it to feel in one piece, return to oblivion in the hope that he might come back rebuilt, whole. Sheffield might have something cooking too, he thought, he was working with Si Curry and Si was connected, son of the punk king and queen and Sheff said he was setting up a new fashion label, knickers to settees.

FC was the logo made up of fishnet legs and stilettos,

‘Stands fer Fucking Cunts but don’t tell’ Sheffield had joked earlier sounding slightly insane on the phone.

The door to Sheffs and Clyts flat was open, 20 lines and 5 prozzies A Night Naughty Tickles the Suns bloody 80’s headline on the walls, an ambient track stuck, a beat, going round and round and round and around and round and round. Sheffield was lying in the window seat asleep mouth

154 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 open, drooling. Toby moved through to the bedroom hoping there might be something else. A Mattress on the floor in her bedroom, Clyt not there but three little brown bottles by the pillows, Methadone phials lined up by the alarm clock trying to say Hello come on Toby come and play.

Should he or shouldn’t he? Bit heavy, he was hoping for some spliff. At least he’d be doing something? Anything to stop him sliding forever into the nothingness again. Just one, she wouldn’t know. ‘Hey what the fuck’ Sheffield at the door. Tickle apologizes and asks ‘What’s going on your end?’ ‘Sleeping, just fucking sleeping all’t time. Man, have been fer last six weeks, I’m fucking fucked right now’. Sheff had been asleep for six weeks. ‘… fucking crack, did my fucking head in. Crack is a cunt. and…Nathan, he shafted me, signed me out of the deal with Zeus, got fucking peanuts anyway and Clyt spunked it all on H. Bout to be chucked out of this gaff any time too’ he squinted one eye open. ‘Got a spliff mate, fag, owt?’. ‘Sorry’ said Toby and left quickly, scurrying away from the virtual Sid and Nancy show. Sheffield couldn’t keep his eyelids open passing out again; he was too much a mirror for how Toby felt and he scurried out..

Shaftsbury Avenue grinded forwards the traffic pushing towards Piccadilly like sludge. Toby turned looking East knowing he should go back to Tina really but unable to face the sadness that filled up their little home. Mooning out of unwashed windows wondering what could have been, Tina sat all day now empty and alone but for her pack of Silk

Cut, never getting out of her dressing down, filling up her longing with worries about his fucking finances and their diminishing Life. He had to go to a Meeting; a thought came strongly into his head, he had to admit he just didn’t know what to do now, but he did know that he hadn’t anywhere else to go.

‘But for the Grace of God’ said the woman down a side street off Bank, chubby and pink white hair streaked with rust. Toby had finally had got to the meet. ‘It’s not so bad now, I see my grandchildren, wee Alec and Jenny, and that’s a bonus, a God given boon, and I talk to ex now, amends have been made, even though he ran off with his secretary, he paid the price, but yes I’m not angry no more but grateful and most of all I thank me higher power that

I’m able to be here today, sober’. A few heads nodded

156 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 appreciatively, some sat with theirs bowed down, a carrot top was lying back in his chair twiddling his thumbs covering a yawn and at the back a bundle, all grease and anorak was swaying long hair brushing his knees a fist held out in front of him, expanding and contracting, ‘Fuck, shit, git, cunt’ exclamations gurgling from his throat.

‘Its been 12 years 10 months and 13 days since I put down the last drink, since, as the Big Book says, I surrendered and tried to be rigourously honest in all my affairs and it is true as they tell you for me at least the truth does indeed set you free. And as I said every day has been a bonus, a gift and yes I wish I was a bit thinner but you know, that will come,’ she said smiling, ‘but by the grace of god, each day at a time, it will come’. A few more smiles. ‘Thank you for listening’ and the old woman cleared something in her throat, ‘I couldn’t have done it without you ‘ and with water in her eyes she looked up directly at Toby who flinched, forcing a smile, who me? feeling an upstart intruder, but sensing that Yes she did mean him and she saw he needed help. ‘Thank you everybody’ she ended with a soft smile.

People shuffled about, a couple of coughs and a ‘fuck shitting bastard’ from the bundle at the back. A very clean man, sitting at the table facing them next to the woman, close cropped hair in an ironed pink shirt, waited a moment and then said ‘We’d like to thank Doreen for that very good chair and now, seeing time is short, Id like to open up the meeting and hope all of you will, if you need to, be able to share. Remember, listen to the similarities not the difficulties, you are in the right place’

‘My names Jimmy and I’m an alcoholic’ a craggy faced Scot with really thick glasses said near the front, ‘and Id like to thank Doreen for her honest chair, and Id like to say that

I’m having a difficult time, a low period as she described’, the mans voice faltered, ‘its been about four years or so since I gave up drinking, although I’ve not been going to meetings’ Tobys stomach began to empty, the man was saying what Tickle was thinking ‘and it doesn’t get any easier…um.. Doubts all the time, perpetual tension, nice phrase eh?’ I don’t know, in a prison, of me own making and not able to do one thing because of thinking of the opposite and vice versa, so I end up doing nothing, everything turns to shite. O Gawd. Its like double talk in the head and me moods changing all the time, unstable that’s

158 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 what they call it in the Psychiatric, its driving me fucking mad’. It didn’t make any sense but it did for Toby, it was as though the guy was reading Tickle’s mind ‘I try I try. I do, try.’ The man was addressing everyone now, like a jury, ‘I do fucking try’ but it was as if he was telling Tickles story for him making him want to hide. ‘I say the serenity prayer all the fucking time I try to be calm, but the anger, I cant control it...um I try not to shout but it just happens I can’t stop it. Fits. It’s like I’m drunk’ and his voice began to fail

‘I try so hard, so frightened but...it’s like the disease is inside me trying to bring me down like…’

…You fucking Bitch didn’t you? it was him wasn’t it? (Puce face) Lee, around you like a fly. I know, do you think I’m stupid? always at it I know you always having a go at me,

(frothing on the lips). how the fuck am meant to get a job if I cant get any fucking time to think and you are always fucking putting me down and yeah I’m the fucking one who has to do the do the do…fucking everything (a fist dissolved in his gut) when you ponce about doing fucking counseling cant even fucking understand your fucking self can’t even give upfucking smoking cant even have a fucking kid….

Tickle winced. The fits. Screaming at Tina. The same when he was blacked out and she took the video that got him in her eon the first place. He had them once a month now, always stuff brewing up, no money, the debt, perpetual tension like the man said, the blood getting hot needing a release, Tina tensing up there like a tortoise enduring the rage. It was all her fucking fault, if it wasn’t for her he could of…he could have been ... if only.., her lack of response heating up his blood further, sweating, wanting to kill her but wanting to love her too, wanting her to stop him, wanting to fuck her, the little neck crying out to be snapped.

‘You fucking cunt, all bastards, kill, no sense shit’ - it was the dosser drunk staggering out of the room, pushing over a vacant chair stumbling towards the door, a shaft of light, a shout of cold air, traffic groaning breaking into the intimacy of the Vestry then the door slammed shut, the AA sign left swaying its corner scraping against the brass handle like a scratching on the dry skin. He needed to do something. Tickle knew he needed help, he needed to tell them, he needed to share: ‘My name is…Toe..’ No he couldn’t. ‘be…’ ‘I am having difficulty …my work.. very

160 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 confused, Virtual Reality’ he thought he heard a snigger, they were meant to be listening, fucking cunts ‘.. without work I get all agitated, unstable and alcoholic behaviour starts agai..’ More sniggering, but he had try harder, push on, through the self-consciousness, share, spread the pain that’s what they said. ‘I feel the waste... I I... I’ve just lost a child, I feel doomed a, everything in my life turns to shit…. Er…my script, a sort of a Hamlet for today, I cant finish it…seems impossible… I finished one before but.. really drunk er…in Mexico waiting for a train, fell asleep and err…all my stuff nicked ..my writing gone… found it in a siding, the bag, some clothes torn up and…’ and Tickle breathed deeply ready to convey the enormous importance this event had in the despair of his lifes and, ‘the writing, bits of it covered in shit, all scrunched up and brown used as toilet paper…’

The youth burst out laughing and the Scots guy coughed in his nose, even the Secretary, the clean man with the crew cut turned away and Doreen too had turned pink, the beautific smile very strained... ‘it was all my life, just shit, blowing away down the railway lines…’ the rest of his self piteous drawl became lost in the laughter of the others

161 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 seeing it was all the same, a metaphor for the loss they’d all felt. Fuck 'em, he felt like he was going to disappear down the black hole. ‘Sorry… I can’t…bastards’

Toby rushed out of the room, away from the sniggering and the honesty that made him sound like a total prat. He needed to get out of it again, or back into it, the old place, the prison, at least he knew it was safe not feeling anything except shite… But why couldn’t he ask for help?

The full force of the outside, the sharp yellow light, polluted gusts and gritted wind knocked him down the pavement.

He could only do it his way, by himself, as always, that was just the way it was, he was different, he had to follow his own path,. Across the street, a man in a shiny Macintosh, suit and black mirror shoes held his Trilby hat down against the almost winter gusts.

…. the record shows I took the blows and did it my way…

The dirty wind blew awkwardly between the old buildings and the new buffeted tight together down the street to the

Bank.

… But through it all, when there was doubt… No, he had to deal with the gap himself, the hole my boys you only loose your confidence once…

Maxwell’d said and maybe it was the same for that, it, the big IT too, the higher power and all that. Loose it once then that’s it, dead, gone. Oh Gawd…

‘Hey Youse, hold up there’. It was the Scots guy, Jimmy.

‘Don’t leave before the miracle. Give it another go son.

Don’t worry about not being able to speak, give time time, it’s a killer illness you know. But, remember we all gotta laugh at ooselves in the drink, laugh and cry, laugh and cry, its life eh?’ And he laughed slapping Toby on the back ‘Keep coming back eh. Here take me number,’ the man said chuckling handing Toby a scrap, ‘Good Luck there son, mind how you go’ and he rushed back towards the blue sign swinging on the door handle. Toby was grateful, felt his warmth and the kindness but he still knew he’d blown it and the time for AA was past. He’d have to do it his way alone, again

.I faced it all and I stood tall; And did it my way.

Tickle stumbled, hurrying on towards nowhere. City suits marched purposely past him, armed with briefcases and

163 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 paper bundles, brows focused, shoes clean and Tickle weaved between them towards the underground keeping vaguely incognito in his variegated mac. He saw a crisp packet tumble over itself along the pavement edge and followed it to avoid looking at the marchers and then, as it lifted up in another gust, he saw by the brass statue of the

General on a Horse in front of the Mansion House, he saw

Father Christmas standing there looking at him square on.

It was a short fat man in pinstripes, his face pink and unlined under a shock of white hair pointy beard carrying a

Santa hat in his hand. He didn’t look much older than Tickle but seemed totally serene, a picture of contentment. As square as he was tall, the banker stood and looked upward at a low flying plane, cutting a line of white in the blue, as if the sky was bleeding cloud and then downwards and straight into Tickles face. He smiled and for a moment Toby felt good, somehow the smile filling the Gap his weakness giving him some hope like Doreen had too, but much more powerfully so. A herd of traders came towards him and he couldn’t see the Fat man anymore, lost in the crowd.

Deflated, after that little ray of light, Toby suddenly felt very poor again, a failure and following his feet went down into the Underground. It wasn’t a relief to be heading back

164 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 to Hackney though; after yesterdays row she might not be there and if she was she’d still be hurt; it seemed as if their thing was always about to end and he really didn’t want to go to the her friends Party tonight, what with all those successful media types, but he had to escape the City now, , it was another tribes place and the spectre of the

IVA, his debt, seemed to throb on his chest stuck on him like the yellow star of a Jew.

Santa Moore watched the plane disappear behind the Nat

West Tower, only reopened last month after the Mick bomb, and then followed its course over Mary le Bow toward St

Pauls. Ah London, his town, where he’d made his first Mint.

He stared up the mirrored ladder of the Tower; both monumental but secret, reflecting back any inquiry, a giant mirror to the sky. FLAP needs your support... He’d got the brochure this morning, the nighttime skyscraper on its front, something about companies putting up bunting around their buildings in order to stop birds flying into the glass; another scam no doubt and anyway what do they expect? It’s a jungle here, not a place for wildlife, Dog eat

Dog and anything else.

A brown plaque on the corner said the Tower was the site of the original Money Exchange where modern Money was invented; Certificate of Deposits, Commercial Paper,

Medium and Floating Rate Notes, Santa’d done them all, he’d played the markets and he’d won. $13 to $40 Oil when the first bomb landed on Baghdad in ‘91, what a beaut, there’s always opportunity in devastation Baby, as one of the smartass Yanks had said then. New York, London,

Sydney, Tokyo, HK Santa Moore was global and in his minds eye saw his new company Infinity International

Development Ltd spinning out across the world, all those users on his Golden ISP, millions being tied into the whole and in the center, like a big honeybee, sat himself smiling, the Buddha Santa dispensing largesse, ten of everything please.

He’d just been to the next stage presentation at Pilgrimage

IT, Garth whateverhisname, little techie Paki was outlining opportunities to the Angels, blokes like him with a bit of dosh. Weird stuff most of it, the Virtual Nightclub,

Redemption, Encounta, CRM, Adserving, Rich Media Engines and Simon says someone off the telly, a bright spark

166 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 seeking dosh who’d got a belly dancer into the presentation just for a laugh, get everyone attention for something called Cabby. UURRR.. Santa had stepped on something soft like shit, instinctively squirming into himself, interrupting his gliding gait. It was a small bird dead on the pavement, crushed, a glob of feather and blood he wasn’t the first the stand on it either, a total bloody mess and

Santa hurriedly bent down to wipe away the minor blemish on his barely scuffed Lobb City sole.

Oh Gawd. Coming back up his back tweaked a shot of pain above his right buttock, an unusual unease coming into his mind. Yes only once had he been shafted, royally by

Warlock, twice, the Wife, number 2. Warlock was a pillock, jacked in the Money Markets and had wanted to become a media bunny, after a Knighthood no doubt, the twat. ‘I don’t want to be a barrow boy for ever’ but it was just plain stingy not letting Santa buy the Trading Operation side out.

And Sheila, the Sheila, the wife, the bitch had got the house, the car, the kids the lot. Fuck ‘em, fuck her he’d got another one now, a new model, classier, knew when to keep her mouth shut, and open, which was nice. HK

Chinese, she knew the score and had done it before and

Santa beamed again. Fuck it, he was alright, coming up roses again as they’d said at his first ever interview, for flogging commodities quick, Look mate, if you perform as we want you too you’ll soon change from a low-income car, to a high-income motor, and then from a low-income bird to a high class bit. Right? Right. Too true. Yup, the new millennium, it was his time now, the Visionary redeemed, the Internet was all twenty first century and he was in at the beginning, he’d be the main Dealer to set the game up, shorten the odds and, at the end, triumphant he would smite the scumbags, reward the good and shaft that pillock

Warlock royally up his media bunny…

‘1.2 1.3 1.4… What are we fucking waiting for? Sorry what did you say Keefy?’ Simon was on the phone ‘Just counting me spondoolies as they procreate so to speak, fucky fucky :

Royalties, Voting Revenues, Merchandise, all the ancillaries breeding like rabbits they are me old matey, all from this shit old song’

I need your love I need your love. God speed your love, to

me.

‘For fucks sake turn the music down can you Simon can’t hear myself think’

Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch a long lonely time. Time, goes by so slowly…And next time

I’m going to get a decent percentage, own it all from broadcaster too merchandise… I’m going to…’

‘Yes yes right Simon; please it’s a business matter’

‘OOoo business, don’t be so serious. You weren’t that serious with Jeanine last night? I heard it got quite steamy in the Tropicana, more than sweating in the Sauna I heard and it wasn’t that sweet’

‘Right, yup thanks for that Simon’.

‘And the little geisha girl, Sumi? No Keith sari no kan do

Keithy’ ‘Simon listen, this is business’

‘I love your authorative tone Kari San More Kari San’

‘For fucks sake... Look I've just talked to Barry over at

Bartone’

‘Oh right, the great Barry, right. OK... shoot’

‘He’s up for it, Cabby and particularly the Nightclub if we can hold of it. That shyster Saul is ready to roll and it fits in well the Bartone multimedia strategy apparently, blah blah.

The down side is we might have to accommodate his son

Dirk. A head case apparently but he’s harmless enough so

Brutus says. You know Brute, Kelvins son, Business School

Bartone fast’

‘Yeah of course, you think I’m a Wally or something?’ shouted Simon a bit more loudly

‘Look we need to hurry you know how it is, we should strike when the irons hot’ aid Keith, wanting to keep a lid on it

‘He’s got a couple of others on board, Fastdrug lot and of course we’ve got Santa onside’

‘Oh great, him ten of everything and with the girls, Nordic through to Chink...Great. So it’s the mill we talked about?’

‘The mill we talked about, plus the rest’

‘Jolly Good Hunky Dory, Fantablioshous my son’

‘Right’

‘Right…Still a bit sore are we Keithy Baby?’

‘Simon…please’

’Ok. See you when the sun goes down darling. Cho’ and

Simon put the phone down and rolled over the black satin sheet to his mobile in order to give his kid brother Chris a call. The little git needed to get on and make the prototype and write the business plan pronto. Nice, should keep him up for a few nights, little spotty shit and Simon felt chuffed

170 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 that to all the various commodities he had already dealt in, hype, birds and sort of talent now he could add Reality albeit Virtual to the a la carte list.

------

Compassion, forgiveness, these are the real, ultimate

sources of power for peace and success in life.”

Tenzin Gyatso, The 14th Dalai Lamas

I just wanta to go home… Ooh yeh I wanna go home with you tonight Tin Tins Goodbye Hello Party was in the popstars compound, a converted lunatic asylum in

Camberwell, high fences and a watchman at the door, keeping the flies off the Stars. Alisha and Len had been big in the eighties, old New romantics ballads for the nice

Japan. Tickle had come here soon after he and Tina had met and he’d got totally fucked, coked and drunk almost throwing up in hostesses bed lunging out at Tinas legs across the dance floor, knocking people over as he crawled towards her and she grinning, pissed too invited him on.

Now, seven years later he was cold dry sober surrounded by successful people telling each other how busy they all were and he felt small, empty and very nervous. It was if he had become all Gap and now feeling useless inside it he was unable to stop himself thinking how only three hours before he had been on top of the No 38 bus coming back from an AA meeting scanning Just the Job, wondering if he could blag a job as an Assistant Sous Chef.

The party had huge arched windows, Victoriana supreme, but done up all minimalist, high wires highlighting the architectural frame. Big music was echoing around and the place was packed. A few old faces half-remembered emerged from the mêlée. ‘Hi Tina.. OH this is Toby... Tickle isn’t it. Heard about you..Look different from Shock, I mean.. Was it Shame? Ten years back… And what are you doing now?’ and he attempted his spheel halfhearted

172 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 knowing it was crap and sensed they were all more than a bit disappointed in him. ‘Hiya darlings’ and out of the forest of fashionable backs Alisha jumped peroxide hair piled high with extensions and thigh length biker stacks. ‘Hiya

Darlings how you doin’’. Toby pulled Tina close to him like a shield but then a huge black man in dreads waded through the crowd grabbing Tina and lifting her up in the air. ‘Tina

Baby, my big hearted darl’ making Toby violently contract.

Robby had been the drummer and Tina had ended up in his bed with him on the last TinTin tour. Apart from the obvious white man phobia, particularly on a bad night like tonight, the thing that had worried Toby most was the fact that she’d kept it a secret from Alisha and everyone else for 15 years. If she could do that with them what about him?

Yeah, maybe it was a lie that she couldn’t lie and yes it was true that she was cheating on him, with Lee or even now with the big black guy. What as it she was whispering in

Robbys ear? and no doubt everyone else at the party was in on the joke. Yeah he was just the Fall Guy to supply the semen for Tinas plan, or was that yogurt at the back of the fridge in fact Lees and Toby was just being used as a front and to pay for the house. No wonder he felt so pathetic as she treated him like a sort of fool and he had to end up actually being one and it was then that he resolved he had

173 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 to get away from her in order not to turn into a fool. Yeah he had to leave, without the oblivion he was just too weak, he just couldn’t handle being with someone else and his brain was now reduced to the size of a pea. He had to get away from her, soon, he couldn’t let her make him doubt himself so much any longer. Doubt was killing him. Yeah, he could tell her in the Cab back, when she was pissed, or just leave, tomorrow, like Lee had with his posh bird, ‘See you later alligator’, walk out of the party and her life mysteriously, finally winning back some sort of control. The thought of it and his 4th pint of Perrier made him desperately want to piss.

The bog was hidden behind a blind door and he almost wet himself trying to find the way in and get his shriveled dick out in time. He couldn’t find the light either but once inside the darkness and the mutedness of the thudding music, the space finally gave Toby a chance to breath. He noticed that it had been reduced almost entirely to foreskin and in negotiating the wrinkled skin the piss went all over the place even when it was pointed towards the right place. The spliff was making him hear everything very acutely I just wanta to go home tonight …and he did, oh yeah with you

174 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 tonight and he looked at his worried face in the mirror: at least it wasn’t totally fucked yet, he thought. ‘Remember we all gotta laugh at ooselves in the drink, laugh and cry, laugh and cry, its life eh?’ and oddly he felt better that he knew Jimmy was somewhere in the city, another nutter like him, yeah even this was better than being pissed on the floor again all fucked up. Surrender... rigorously honest

….acceptance, the meeting catchphrases now echoed around his head. He should, would, go back, but he couldn’t, not yet, he had to get some money in the bank otherwise he couldn’t relax, surrender, he knew once in there was no turning back. If he went in he’d have to leave

Tina, he told himself, he had to get some money in the bank first otherwise he’d become homeless and end up on the streets like how a proper alcy lived.

‘What?’

‘Say it louder?’

‘The Bacon Baby. Our boats come in. Bartone are in, want a slice of Cabby, Keith got the call just before’.

It was Simon up against one of the windows talking to a fatter and more conventionally dressed version of himself,

Chris, another Froth, his brother. Keith had his back to

Simon talking to Saul who was looking nervously pleased with himself, in a Hawaiian shirt puffing a supersize spliff.

Simon knew the TinTin PR guy and he knew the invite would impress Saul and soften him up in the deal. Simon was proud that after a lifetime of blagging, ligging and lying he could get in wherever he liked and he used it to the full.

‘Golly. Just like that?’ said Chris

‘Yup, Bartone said they’d put in 50 %, one point two, you know Liz the fat City chick and Keiths says Saul’s happy with cash on the side plus a cut, at 3% for a year or two.

Its amazing what Big Bro the magician can do heh; it’s all about having the front as Becky always said, UDARE

KANDOO eh?

‘The Froth mantra’ said the fatter version of Froth scratching another spot on the back of his bulbous neck.

‘Yeah that’s right bro, but we need a plan, Bizplan you know a Plan Plan and a bit of design work to make the

Virtual Nightclub look like ours. You know Cabby Mark 2, a sort of the new version, more advertising and we can cut all the culture shite out, Freespace my arse, more room for more brands and …

‘But we need at least a month’

‘You got a week Mate ’

‘We can’t do it I..’

‘FOR FUCKS SAKE YOU CUNT DO AS I FUCKIN SAY MY

NECKS ON THE FUCKIN LINE YOU KNOW AFTER ALL IVE

DONE FOR YOU YOU KA..’

Simon was bright red in the face his drink sloshing on the ground and behind him Keith shuffled along the wall pushing Saul away, who, seeing the fuss became a bit worried that this Money was so temperamental and he decided get it sharpish and fuck off quick.

Saul reassured himself that he had the Heads in his back pocket and it was a fucking result for sure Yeah All wells and all.. It had happened and everything was coming up…

Yeah, the 80’s again cheap money on its way, out of the

Bust into the Boom on the up and he knew now having just survived the recession of 92 that the game was all about getting hold of as much money as possible in boom and holding on for dear life in the bust. Yeah he’d done it and maybe he should change his new company name to

Phoenix, you know from the ashes, smart. Yeah, maybe he would put back some into Infinity Golden shares as

Garthside had suggested with a wink and a nudge. Yeah he really was a Player now as he had always wanted to be, the salesman from Beckenham could now buy whatever he wanted. Through the Money he was with the Money and now in the Money the replacement for Shak, Leslie, was already there, a classier higher income type of bird and all would be back how it was meant to be, Sunday Times

Magazine Day in the Life of... So wrapped up was he in his autobiography Saul hadn’t noticed that the crowd had rippled away from the wall where he and the bickering

Froths were stood, as if they had a bad smell but he did hear the commotion behind him now.

‘You cunt you cunt you fuckin cunt afterallIvedoneforyoucunt..’. Chris knew when to back off from psycho bro and now moved to placate his older brother before Simon puce red invective developed in the more serious thing. ‘Sure. ..You’re great Simon, Best dealer

I know, Whatever you say Si, no prob...Please yes Sorry’ he almost pleaded ‘You are truly brilliant Sim… Mum will be really pleased.’

And not knowing the next Chapter of his Life was being prepared by the distasteful group by the wall Toby, having taken a deep breath first, broke out of the toilet and bumped into Alisha, the very white face looking a bit irate, blue eyes wide open. ‘Alright Darlink?’ ‘Yeah’ ‘Come on, what’s the matter Toby? Lets party.. I’m leaving the fucking country tomorrow, this is the hottest date in town’ looking genuinely offended that Toby wasn’t playing his role in this the glorious film of the end of Act 2, or was it 3? of her life too. ‘I just need a fucking drink, something’ he said and suddenly the Woman became serious, ‘Look Darlink, don’t be silly, be good, you’re not the only one here. Every other person here is on a 12 step for Christ’s sake. NAs the best networking joint in town. Be positive for fucks sake. Don’t be an idjut, you make the world you’re in, don’t you right? she said, holding him by the shoulders. ‘And see how fuckin good it is, because this is it Darlink, there ain't no other Life so you better believe it and..’ with a little threat in her voice she tightened her grip making him look directly at her. ‘And for Gods sake don’t blame Tina, she is a god given gift so fucking look after her alright. Remember she’s the one who saved your ass, she loves you and right now she’s the best thing in your life’. Then she let him go and stroked his chest, smiling gently saying, ‘She’s a top mate OK, she’s

‘Yeah sure, of course’ said Toby suddenly felt all sheepish, adding ‘Thanks’ because he knew she was right. ‘That’s OK.

We’re all in it together right?’ she added doing a twirl obviously wanting to get back to the throng the Party celebrating her life. ‘Our Electrobux deal is done and so off we go to make our dream home in Ozzyland eh, see a bit of my other family at last’ and suddenly Alisha became more normal, less of a star, threatening and distant and more just another person, another exile wanting to get home, having proved herself now just wanting to be happy, wanting to find something real, the right thing for her, to feel part of and like him and perhaps everyone else, not really knowing exactly what that was.

Toby relaxed. The big wall of Eighties music he’d always felt bad about had faded and the threatening crowd had become just a load of people like him and Alisha muddling through, trying to be whatever they could be, not sure if it was quite right. Tina appeared at his side with that dreamy smiling face, wine and spliff having taken hold and she suddenly held him making him feel suddenly OK with himself as black clad PR types milled around them like

180 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 tadpoles, one bleached haired prat standing out, naying loudly ‘Simon says this, Simon says that and Simon says the fucking Internet is where its at. I tell you matees it’s the new rock and roll...’ ‘Twat’ Toby and Tina said almost simultaneously and for the first time in a long time they burst out laughing together loud. 'Let’s go’ Tina said squeezing him on the thigh. Toby was surprised; it was usually him wanting to go first not her. ‘Lets go and snuggle up eh’ and his legs melted beneath him. He couldn’t stop himself and he knew then he wasn’t going to leave her now or possibly ever. Was that Love or something else? And he felt something, in the heart not the groin, beyond the job, the debt and his unfinished script, something filling up the gap? It was a new thing…Was it hope?

He felt strangely happy, odd even, but driving back in the cab he became increasingly uneasy, an hour ago he was going to dump her, leave the woman snuggled up beside him and now he felt more in love with her than ever had before, he couldn’t make sense of it in his head.

Was it Love or something else?

…and it was announced last night by the US department of the Interior that the Colorado range of mountains from

Glacier Point to Summerland Park is to be renamed, after the benefactor of the recently delimitated National Reserve of High Special Interest, as the Molane Freedom Range. The

Reserve will be one of a handful in the US to be granted this special status which precludes all form of commercial activity on the area, including hiking, fishing and all other non residential activities...…

----

10.

Because the regime is captive to its own lies, it must falsify

everything. It falsifies the past. It falsifies the present, and

it falsifies the future…

Vaclav Havel Power of the Powerless

The postcard oblong shone through the carriage window,

the train traveling West to East, from Linz to Wein, Hitlers

Birthplace to the End to Empire and Toby was reading an

East European diatribe about Power written before the Wall

came down. .. the regime falsifies statistics. It pretends not

to possess an omnipotent and unprincipled police

apparatus. It pretends to respect human rights. It pretends

to prosecute no one.. He saw the mountains, snowcapped

still the denudation from green to brown, those wretched

patches of sick grey trees, acid rain they had called it in the

80’s, the Natures Revenge Alisha had gone on about

blemishing the pure Alpine scene… It pretends to fear

nothing. It pretends to pretend nothing…West to East, the

pivotal trains in his life; West to East in 1984 from Paris to

West Berlin before the Wall descended, there researching

for Young Hitler, Wolf, a friends parent looking like Father

Time as they stood looking at an empty No Mans land, a surreal sight like a mad gash running through the city centre bleeding menace, with the Old Man saying ‘Vich ist de verst, das ist zee question yah Toby, Capitalism or

Communism, both a lie in vich we are trapped in’. West to

East and five years later seeing the fear in Wolfs ex wifes face,1989, the Year the Wall broke, remembering the

Russians marching women rushing en mass to the Wansee

Lake choosing to drown rather than wait to be raped. Had it all changed then, the Wall collapsing, the Velvet

Revolution socialism dissolving accepting that we couldn’t be equal dog eat dog was part of the picture, had the world then irredeemably changed? It had for Toby, his Isolation over, Tina saying yes to his madcap proposal and traveling back, West to East, Finisterre to Barcelona staring out of another oblong window into the beauty of another summers evening, as now, mountains in the distance beyond the blurred trees refracting light and…what then? Blackout.

‘yeah lets go to the restaurant car’ and waking 12 hours later, a knife at her throat drunk in Barca Central wanting someone to kill him, to arrest the madness going on in his head.

‘Get a job, get a fucking Job a job job Get a fucking Job a job job Just get a fucking Job’ the flashing trees and low sunlight coming through the window now as the train wound its way through the mountain passes, melded into the memory of Tinas big eyes, hard edges and her lips thin urgently asking before he’d left London for his Freespace exhibition trip ‘…but where’s the fucking money, why are you going, its not a job’. It was a constant struggle now to contain her anxiety and anger. ‘It’s 10K for fucks sake and

I’m getting half, and the Freespace thing could really take off if they like it’ ‘Yeah yeah, Is this just another fantasy or what? Are you just a fucking liar Toby ?’ ‘It’s only for a few days, and I promise I’ll look for a proper job as soon as I get back’...

West to East he was traveling now, back from the Festival of Virtual Reality, Ars Electronica to the Airport and home again, in between things a time suspended, a virtual reality limbo between Millennium Hamlet and a scared wife. He had decided to go for a walk, die Weg, for a day and a half, to climb a mountain and try to reconnect again with himself, his body, his sight, back to being with Nature and himself combined, the IT of India of being him, not acting playing a part, an idiot technological he hoped.

Margot had got him at it, when he’d seen her, forced him to remember the time before, that time fresh and open- endedness, the high alpine walking, sex in the snow, Zehr

Lustig singing hot breath and ice, the heart opening up the last time to the full Joi of life. Youth. O Gawd. Yah. Das ist

Rictig…Yesterday in Wien and she hadn’t changed much, the same as in Shame, just a little more guarded. She was still statuesque, Eva Braun without the durnel, those large legs tapering up to an elvin face. The broad smile was there but the face was more stretched, not so full of blood those rosy cheeks he so well remembered on top of white sheets before she came.

‘The frulingkeit is almost here’ she had said in Vienna

Statzpark, pointing to the Linden trees coming into bud ‘Joy is here again yah’ she said almost insisting. Joi, she’d pronounced it as if it was an edict but Toby knew that underneath and perhaps now nearer to the surface, there was a deadly seriousness, so unEnglish the bit almost willing to be in touch with death, den Tot and with it the longing, versucht. It was good of her to have met him really; after all, the last time he’d been really drunk trying

‘You and computers, I don’t believe it’ she had said in the

Park, ‘It is evil, only through people can the Spirit become’

‘Yeah but it helps communication..’ ‘ Ar Gott but what of the

Naturlich, Tickle?’ she’d almost pleaded and Toby had retracted ‘Oh come on, lets face it darling, theatre’s hardly something for the masses, and there’s no money in it anyhow’ he’s said, surprising himself how much now he sounded like Saul. ‘Yes but computers are not Human, where is the breathe, where is the Soul?’; Margots mittel

European inflection allowing her to say Soul without sounding new age-ish, ‘Its twenty-first century drama innit, broadcasting ME.TV globally 24/7’ Toby had insisted knowing he didn’t quite believe it but not wanting to admit to Margot his doubt beneath, his shame at having left his first true love, for Hollywood and the Coke of Tania, celebrity melting any notion of the good. ‘Ah shiszer, TV is full of bad people, shlimy immoralisch.. Where is de Joi, the love for the good life?’ ‘In a remake of fucking Heidi darling’, Saul might have said and then, there, as the last light lifted from the trees, the dark deepening, Tickle suddenly realized he no longer knew what joy was. It was

187 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 just a word now. Dog eat Dog. Life was a bitch and then you…wasn’t that right’, a dull chase for status, security, sex, palliatives for the anxiety and the pain. Leben was what it fucking was darling, work, and he realized that really he no longer believed in the alternative, something else, somewhere free.

Oh Gawd but then, there, the Gap had reared up inside him again, a gaping hole, the bad breath of his cynicism making him feel sick. He looked at her wide eyed across the clean white cloth and realized he needed to fuck her, really badly, he wanted a taste of it again, her joi, her caring, her being part of, he wanted to go back to the time when he was part of too when belief was not outside him, a formula, a course a possession, but inside him, the body total, the sight, the Zehr Lustig being fully alive, he wanted himself back, whole complete again.

‘Get a job, get a fucking Job a job job, PAYE in eye T, Get a job, get a fucking Job the train wheels joining in as the mountain horizon of the Austrian Alps becoming black against the paling light. Another promise made and more time bought and in his remembering Toby looked down at

188 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 her, her dark hair coming over her forehead covering her face, as if the miscarriage, his unemployment, the pre millennial fear was smothering her life. Still so sad. It wasn’t even a Baby for fucks sake, just an image of one, the swirling grays of the scan, a Virtual Womb, the thing there just discernable in a cloud. The Baby was more an idea than a real thing. Fuck her, he said then to himself.

‘Come on, for old times sake, please, I need…I need…I need…’ he had pleaded to Margot the night before last, but she didn’t even come inside for a coffee, leaving him at the apartment door. ‘Remember technology is Man trying to play Gott’ she’d said again, walking away from him into the chilly night and Toby wanted to call out ‘I know I know but I have no choice, its ..’, but he didn’t and she was gone, her heels on cobbles fading in the descending darkness, leaving

Tickle trapped in the doorway and the perpetual tension of playing the Third Man, in-between things, lukewarm not one thing or another. A bit depressed Toby had tried to gee himself up by poking around the apartment. It was

Hienrichs, Margots brother, a failed Priest who was in the

Sanitarium again for Schizophrenia or something else. ‘He

Toby had a shower, trying to wash away the feeling shit, the rejection and the bad taste from the past. Looking in the round mirror at his tired face he’d decided to borrow

Heinrichs Bic razor, even though he knew he shouldn’t really, Aids and all that and as he was carefully shaving away the soap, he saw his sad drunk face from a Christmas past getting cut to shreds dotted with Kleenex a decade earlier, another one of his binges with Margot, Schnapps, smashing up a posh dinner with some of Margots Graf friends, another horrific episode unprocessed, forcing its way back ‘Shit, Fuck…’ Distracted Toby knicked his neck with the Bic, a little gash just below the ear and it had taken a long time to stop bleeding. It still felt sore now as the train west trundled out of another tunnel.

You are a Useless Wanker a Useless Wanker Useless

Wanker Useless Wanker Useless Wanker Useless Wanker …

190 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the breaking wheels ground into him, as the train slowed coming into the next station the track enclosed by high sides and trees overhanging. He wanted to move back into clear space, he wanted to get away from his own head, besieged by all the pieces of paper, the IVA, rejection letters, Freespace proposal, Arts Panel advance, AMEX bill and the rest, surrounding him like inverted jokes telling him he was indeed a failure and a mess. But he had to go on, get away from this, walk it off, walk through it, try and come out the other side away from the chimp on his shoulder constantly slagging him off away from all the mirrors and the PC Screens, constantly trying to drag him back into himself.

Wintergarten. He’d arrived. Come on, let go, it was indeed

Spring. A meadow by the station, a path winding through to birch trees at the bottom of the mountain looming up into the blueness the right side of the mountain shining in the late afternoon sun. Walking straight out from the station soon Toby was in the foothills of the mountains, all slime and uneven footing, the spring melt trickling down everywhere. De Weg, almost paths, big boards showing the pathways, numbered conveniently in English Italian and

Deutch. Zehr Systematisch.. So German, Alpine Verein was

191 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the name of the club he’d joined for a year in Linz. 40 marks, a little piece of paper, a new cotton sheet sewed up like a sleeping bag and he could stay in all the mountain huts for free.

In out in out in out. Look with your head up, think with your head down Toby had learnt to walk in India when he was

19, walking mountains was part of a quest for IT, always had been since that feeling first felt on a Scottish hillside at

15. Oceanic someone had called it, when everything seemed to fit in its place and he seemed part of everything but free at the same time. The drink had done that sometimes, a sort of lucid oblivion but before, in his youth, he didn’t need that, it was from inside not the outside, the freedom happy in body and quiet in his mind, all opposites reconciled connected to the outside, Peace in fact. In a way that was what he had yearned for since then, another apple bitten and once tasted however briefly, it had to be sought as it made everything else seem a little less than real, fake, to the point of its absence creating a sort of despair.

A harsh squawk came from inside the ranks of pine as Toby followed the still metalled road hugged by foresters. A

Capercaille wasn’t it, that big bad bird, black and vicious his

Scotch uncle had scared him about them eating babies when he was a child and here the same fear was felt deep in the forest. There were a lot in Osterreich he remembered hanging out with Margot before. Come on stop being wet, fear made the mind fuzzy, come on in and out, think, keep at it and Toby stuck his head down and continued trying to think it, his life through to some resolution about what do, what to be next.

O gawd it had been another humiliation, a charade of himself trying to cheat the Money into giving him some more for Freespace, a ‘Work in Progress’ at Ars Electronica the next big thing what’s happening in the UK. was sponsored, by Electrobux, acting the role of the Visionary with his own killer app, even convincing himself that this was indeed the Toby Tickle comeback, redeemed again. But the whole show was just to get hold of some more Arts

Panel grant, 80% of which had already gone in his back pocket, and in the end it hadn’t worked anyway, his big

Freespace, using Shrike Virtual Nightclub fly through, the

PC had broke and he had been left to bullshit and soon most of the techies and EU crats had drifted away only the

German Deputy Minister of Culture left in the front row

The city of Linz wasn’t very pretty, it felt heavy and dull.

The black mountains were there as the backdrop, the

Danube cutting through in a slow broad curve and in the exhibition hall there wasn’t much to see, just more possibility, the next great thing, Interactivity blah blah ..

ITMC, the International Transmedia Media Convention, a

Japanese man with a broken arm and a crap computer, a giant Screen with Virtual Berlin, a landscape of avenues and buildings but, as usual, no people so nothing was happening. The Telematics room a dark space with silhouettes projected from two angles making you meet yourself in the middle. Toby took video clips of all of the exhibits, playing a documentary maker, a producer

‘gathering assets to put into Freespace, but in both parts he had felt a fraud. ‘Yeah that’s right guys, as I said in my

VRV, available world wide via Harpers by the way, we are in the process of being wired into a global electronic media space, as Mcluhan prophesized’, loud Americana coming from the corner where a big man in a droopy moustache and Hawaiian shirt was droning on like only Californians can about all things IT. It was Ryan Heingold, the one

194 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 prophesying about the Way of the Future on ME.TV, set up as the great seer and author of VRV. Virtual Reality Visions was the main book, so his was the main man, now spotlit by the Japanese news crew filming him, and with the advent of these mass media reality networks in cyberspace, we are going to have a lot of serious fun eh?’ The Japanese nodding furiously ‘The Fun is going to be serious when you consider that the two largest blocks of users in this marketplace are going to be global finance and the entertainment industries. The experience VR presents potentially will not only affect the way we are, the way we interact with each other, but also the way we think… Gettit

OK Guys? How about a shot of the book and I trust you have the fee? Cash…Yes?’ All bollocks, crappy and Tickle had just grown more agitated looking at the bright sunshine outside.

‘Bollocks’ muttered into his boots as he made his way through the birch walking up the mountain, the road had finished and he was already sweating heavily, making his way through the mud and stone. The back of his boot was rubbing the ankle bone and he knew he’d get a blister but he welcomed the pain in a way. He knew he had become more disconnected than ever, after the acting, the celebrity

195 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 flashing of lights, the drinks drugs and the brain wash in rehab, the relapse and then the years of grasping for Tinas approval, layer after layer after layer of dishonesty had become glued into a big screen of illusion, he was living in a false history and now, as if in an inevitable conclusion, here he was stuck in a Virtual Virtual Reality, but like the drink had, it didn’t work anymore. Oh come on, shut up, find a way. The day before Toby had ended up spending the afternoon outside in the Spring sunshine; it had seemed silly all those Screens of false light on a lovely day. The river was canalized in Linz outside the Exhibition hall although it was still impressively wide. On the other side was a meadow, poplars flickering in the sun. A swan, high necked, arched brilliantly white leading a train of cygnets, ugly ducklings, was swimming against the current up past the Complex. Toby realized, although he felt stupid admitting it, that for him the natural scene had far more meaning, was far more exciting than all the artificial stuff inside on the screens. It was meant to be the future inside there, Interactive, Virtual the rest, but it was just Telly really, TV in a whole load of different guises and sitting there on the bank he had suddenly felt disembodied, not quite there in the scene, looking in on it, at it, the soft valley wind brushing anothers skin, not his, his eyes

Beyond the park a black train had hurtled over the bridge heading eastwards and Toby, for a moment, had seen steam rising through the iron girders. It was an optical trick played by the factory chimney behind but he’d seen then, for a moment black and white cattle trucks heading from

West to East winding between the dark valley sides full of the yellow stars heading to their death, zum Tot. Toby shook away the old Holocaust newsreels he’d watched for

Young Hitlers research, and then resolved to go walking,

SOS, just for a day he’d said without meaning to, in the

Alps, before home.

In the concert hall that evening before he headed for the

Mountain here, even Virtual Realitys inventor, fat Ray

Seerson, had seemed bored by the VR stuff, messing around with that 3D white glove projection that he must have shown a thousand times before, but now wanted to use the show to play weird Tibetan instruments instead

‘…and now for something a little more real’ the chubby

Californian had said before blowing a huge Buddhist horn for half an hour confusing all the Austrian Doktors staring up at him in hope of some sort of futuristic enlightenment.

The giant screen of an interactive Ping Pong game in the town square had been the only interesting thing at the

Festival, where the whole crowd played with computer wands they had to hold above their heads, making the white balls move across a massive Screen and then, after the big cheers when the Red Wands had won an old fashioned Son and Lumiere show had begun, the Beethoven finale bellowing out into the starry sky red and green lights on all the shop fronts as the big rumble of bass drums reverberated through the crowd, a little old woman grabbing Tobys elbow to say, ‘Ist ze time of the

Wehermacht again, tanks ver everywhere. Yah das ist rictig’ and Toby had shivered in the chill night breeze. Was this festival in some way recreating it, the technological advance gathering people together towards a new world?

Was the technology being used to erase the memory of the past? ‘Nature is Truth; Technology is just man playing

Gott’; Margots phrase kept ringing around Toby’s head.

Redemption. Cleaning. Purification, to see things clearly

‘Fuck it’, Toby didn’t want to sink back into the Adolf part.

It wasn’t good when he’d got into parts too much, he got quite difficult to live with and Margot hadn’t appreciated the weird things he’d tried out in bed. He, Hitler, hadn’t liked the light on apparently and the things he had like made

Margot think the Method could go too far even if her Eva part demanded that she swallow the things that Toby, Hitler did.

No fuck it, all parts gone now, no acting only the pursuit of the real he told himself walking up the mountain trying to find the first hut before night fell, no more De Nero, Brando or Pacino he just wanted to be himself, connect with the

Earth, the Original him and the undeniable Real of Nature, the dirt, the Shit he told himself as he climbed up through the fir. The path, unused all winter was now covered in fern and in order to maintain the course, Toby had to climb over the massive boulders by die Weg. A high pitched whistle came from a hawk above gliding, its breast bright gold in the late afternoon sun. Toby enjoyed the fact that he could

199 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 find the way following his nose, without detailed maps. The only thing he was worried about was the night, pitch black, getting too cold and disappearing down some deep hole. He pictured himself by a stream looking up at the stars waiting for dawn, but then thought of bears, and other things among the ferns and he didn’t fancy it. That was him right through, he suddenly thought, never going the whole hog, always wanting the backstop, the insurance, the compromise, the safety net. No wonder he couldn’t be himself, the half hearted man and Toby noted it. He should think more on that tomorrow. That’s what he liked about walks, it made things simple, bought the body and mind together, revealed the thoughts that were there, then gave a chance to order them, get things moving again in the natural rhythm, the walk. He must walk more often he told himself. He breathed deeply. Must breathe deeply more often he told himself. The body thinks, someone said, the body doesn’t lie. The front of the brain is used too much with computers someone else said, it distorts its so only half of you ends up being used. Must listen to my body,

Toby told himself, it made sense. Resolution after

Resolution he was making, and no more dope in front of the

PC, the mind getting all mixed up with circuits. To be clear now. Clarity that’s what he wanted. Not tense. Don’t try too

At last, his knees hurting, Toby came to the first hut, the first stars appearing high up in the darkening blue. He stood for a moment taking in the huge dome of sky. The comet was there somewhere, Hale Bopp the star with a smudged side, like a plane a luminous jet and he wondered if it meant anything, if it would make the entire World go slightly off beam. The Apocalyptic Millennium, he Druids were saying the Dawn of a New Age, part of the becoming we are all so frightened of Toby thought. Maybe we will all try to escape on the spaceship hiding behind the Comet ready to transport, like the Heavens Gates lot last year, the bunch of Californian nerds who’d topped themselves in San

Diego all wearing You KANDOO it shoes. Was that broadcast on the Internet as well as Leary? They had all worked in IT, the John Doe the cult didn’t they? Wasn’t their Higher Power called Ti, as in Tickle? Was it somehow related? Oh Gawd…

There was no one else there at the hut, only the elf like

Gebirgshüttemanager. All beard and blue eyes and with hardly any words the exhausted Toby felt closer to him than he had to anybody for years. They looked at each other, nodded, as they were, then, and Thomas gave Toby

201 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 some soup, a bunk bed and blanket and it seemed the first time for a long time, the body aching from the scramble up the wet path and the lungs cleared of smoke and computer fuzz, that everything was in fact alright that Toby slept deeply and undisturbed.

Zinging the next morning, Toby set off for the summit before dawn, upwards. By climbing the mountain at least he would have done something tangible at last he thought, the Reicshler, 3500 meters and then back to Wintergarten by teatime and the train to Wein but trudging up in the hot morning it was scree most of the way, and it seemed to go on forever. The sun rose and it became very hot and Tickle had to take off his shirt. The wound on his Neck from

Heinrichs razor began to throb. Someone had mentioned the Ozone Hole and as he climbed he remembered the Acid

Rain again, sick rust lines etching the mountainside. Now it all lay below him, mountain tops still white and the clearest blue above, occasional valleys opening below him revealing the toy towns beneath.

In and out, in and out, in and out he walked and breathed and thought what the fuck was he going to do? Feeling a

202 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 fraud, knowing he should face the shame and get back to what he was meant to be doing, redeeming his downfall, get back to Millennium Hamlet and the great comeback reprieve. To be or not to be? Whether it would be better to continue with this story, the Virtual Reality thing, knowing it was wrong for him, or to listen to the voice telling him it was bad and, like a fishing line tangle would only get worse.

In and out, breath but he knew it was trying to heal the inside from the outside, making it look good when inside was a mess. It was the inside first wasn’t it, inside to outside, but how do you do that? Should he give up,

Surrender, as Gwen called it, or blunder on fighting regardless, get the Money, the status and sex, so as not to admit he didn’t know why he was doing it no longer?

Change or die they’d said at the Crypt; should he follow that deep down yearning, the searching for the Freedom and the Peace? Seek the truth whatever it was rather than cover up his not knowing with more denial disguised as another fucking Plan. O Gawd what was he going to do? To be or not to be Wouldn’t it mean leaving Tina? But if she didn’t come then it was meant as she didn’t want to come his real self. Yes, but he’d have to cope by himself and…To be or not to be? Hot headed, sweating at the voice screaming in his skull, he longed for the mountain to give

203 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 him an answer and now he shouted out to the emptiness and… toebeee toe bee toe bee toe toe toe toe be be be be be, the echo receding into the haze, until the question had emptied itself and nothing came back.

The trouble was he’d spent so long hiding in the office and his windowless basement that the alpine scene around him seemed just another Screen, a mirage, as if he’d stumbled into another one of Shrikes Silicon Graphic creations. As he made the last few steps to the summit of the mountain he willed himself to become part of it, to get IT, that oceanic feeling back again.

But all he got, as he stood at the top, at noon by a cross, a kitsch Christ bright white wax, red bloodied wearing delicate metal thorns on his head, all he heard was You wanker, wanker wanker you. and he turned disgusted, the sky falling in on him like a collapsing tent and ran back down in the chattering of scree the voice chasing after him, you wanker, you wanker narcissist wanker, wanker, wanker, get a fucking job wanker ajob job you PAYE wanker fool suddenly slipping onto his back hitting his coccyx on a rock Fuck Shit Cunt, then sliding down on his backpack as

Shit. O gawd.

And an hour later as he was walking back bruised and sad through the ranks of shadows of the fir forest and he suddenly felt terribly afraid, exposed, thinking he was hearing animals again in the bushes. A panic, empty and he feel down again. It may be the freedom but it would destroy all he had, he thought, Tina, the Baby the carrot, his entire world, only the unknown left and the prospect suddenly filled him with dread, getting up again and running out to find the sky beyond the trees.

He broke out of the forest and the sun had thickened, a shining gold reflected off the little lake in the valley where the next hut stood. Sounds of children came up from beneath him; laughter, a scream, shouting, a game being played, dancing Heidi’s and durndals again. And, with a cloud abruptly passing away from the sun, he did, all of a sudden, feel lighter and he felt a laugh bubbling up into his throat, his chest tightening and for a moment standing there looking, he became part of the picture, the life before him no longer just a postcard scene, a Screen of one and naughts.

It was…

Real.

At last.

And Toby smiled as his ears finally popped like a window opening up on his life. Yes, this is the point, letting go of the complications, the need to make all answered for and finite, allowing himself to say I don’t know, allowing for the asking and for the search.

And the Sun went in behind a huge black cloud.

But..No, he couldn’t risk it. It would be too frightening for

Tina just to uproot and go. First he had to get himself out of the debt, get the Baby and the house.

A ripple of thunder came from behind the mountain.

No, he’d have keep it a secret, the fact that all the technology, money and status meant absolutely nothing to him but he had to get the money to make everything safe,

206 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 then he’d come back here. He’d go back home, train himself to fit in and take on the world, construct his escape vehicle, his own Millennium Spaceship made out of Money, rock solid dosh, rid himself finally of the failure and the sense of shame, make Tina, the Baby himself secure and then allow himself the space and time to come back and search for it again. And happy, sort of, in the comfort of his compromise, thinking he’d made a resolution, Toby got back on the bus and went back to Wein and the plane to

London.

Over the channel, white clouds above white horse Toby came to the end of the book by the Czech dissident he had been reading on the train happy that he’d finished it and somehow appropriated the title Living in the Truth, which the trip had convinced him was his long term aim although in fact he was going back to exactly the same place he’d come from only three days before, everything despite his interior journey was exactly the same.

…there are times when we must sink to the bottom of our misery to understand truth, just as we must descend to the bottom of a well to see the stars in broad daylight...the book finished with.

PART TWO

Cabby –

takes you where you want to go

1998-2000

The reason for this is that I am born in selfishness and therefore my natural efforts to make myself more real and

more myself, make me less real and less myself, because

they revolve around a lie

Thomas Merton

11.

History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce.

Karl Marx

Faaaaaarrrrckkkkk….He slipped. Again, Tickle lost his balance. After running up the steps outside the grand townhouse, then rushing through the lobby hall and across the black and white marble squares, the leather shoes he was unused to wearing had seemed to get a life of their own, carrying on without him then seeing himself skidding again as if down the scree you wankeryouwankeryou.. but trying to be all smiles I’m Mr. nice guy, beaming at the receptionist MTV playing behind her head as she watched him slightly bored, falling backwards his legs akimbo and it was with a sharp round pain that his coccyx hit the marble floor hard and, rubbing his still sore tail, he scrambled up trying hard to keep that Ding Ring of Confidence grin, as proof of the strength of this personality and at least he’d got her giggling with his silly Oh Dear me face, getting her to put her glossy book Ambition down and to actually recognize he was there in front of her needing help.

‘Are you alright?’ she said, the Afro Anorexic; she could have been sixteen or sixty but either way the faux bikini she was wearing was small enough to make Toby blush.

‘Sorry, I’ve got an interview, Tick...Arrm Mr Tickle T Tickle

Toby, with….um’, he said fumbling with his notes, ‘Keith

Dimmit and one of the Froth twins, Simon is it?’ ‘Sure,’ and the Receptionist, looking a bit more interested, eying him up from toe to head said ‘Scuse but have you been on

Telly?’ ,‘No I mean Yes, No err.. yes but not for a very long time I’m afraid’ replied Toby ‘You see…’ and he was going to explain but she’d already returned to autonoman doll mode, having found out his celebrity wasn’t actually live. ‘

‘Please go through Mr Tickle, Keefs waiting for you’ she smiled robotically, showing a bit of chewed toffee between her two front teeth, going back to her glossy read on the cover of which was a model with champagne bottle being pushed between two high-heeled spread legs.

‘Hi, Tickle is it?’ a head or rather a wig came out from the doorway, wiregrey sharp clipped in a gnomish suit with bright red tie. ‘Hi, Toby it is, isn’t it? Come through to the terrace, sorry to leave you stranded’ the suit said shaking his head, ‘At the mo a bit short crewed’. So this it, Toby

210 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 told himself, girding himself for the interview, the Big One, the Final Countdown to save himself, the Baby, his marriage. It’s the Final Countdown, dada God Tina’d been so excited that it was PAYE, he just had to get through this first. ‘Nice bit of weather were having though’ said Mr

Dimmit all charming, ‘Call me Keith and, please, take a seat.’ Toby, surprised by the courtesy after the snarls of

Predator, relaxed into the white chair under the brisk blue sky. Breathe deeply…May the Ist, MayDay. Spring was in the air and, despite himself, he couldn’t help himself being filled with a sense of expectation and what might have possibly even been called hope.

Breathe deeply. Relaxed physicality equates with confidence in ones professional ability the Mind Changes manual said.

Keith sifted Tickles papers on his lap ‘Errr...Got experience of the Virtual Nightclub of course, or the Cabbie Version 2 prototype as we all call it now eh? We concluded the sale last night, pretty late but the lawyers always like it that way don’t they heh?’ he said with almost a wink. ‘So you know the Product, ours, yours Cabbie, takes you where you want to go eh? Is the byline. Gettit? We’ve been promised a second round of funding from Bartone. Barry is an old

Infinity too. Did you see the article in the FT with Santa

Moore? A strategic partnership will be good for us once it floats on the Market some time soon.’ Toby nodded, trying to look like he knew what the little man was going on about. Shit, he should have bought the Pink Paper today, for the Interview. It would have looked good, sort of Suit plus. Toby had been reading trade mags, cramming in the

Mind Changes Interview Manual and practicing a range of faces in front of the mirror for a week, rehearsing his new

Executive Role. ‘I’m the lead investor here, the Angel they call me’ and he smiled,’ I’ve got another couple of Internet companies upstairs too, you see. Sport and well, you know,

Adult....’ but Kieth stopped himself as though he wanted a friend but he was saying too much. ‘Better see where

Simon’s got to’ and the little big man waddled off, to find the supposed boss.

Whark Whark Whark, two seagulls were wheeling around high up, scavengers eyeing the City dross below them.

Toby wanted a fag, but they might not like it so he didn’t and he needed to give up anyway. That’s what they said at

Mind Changes, Makes you more negative, Think Life not

Death. Think positive they said and Tickle whispered to himself I will get a job, I will get a house, I will get a Baby, must get a job, get a job, and get a job…his self resolutions mixing with the memory of Tinas nagging, Whark Whark

Whark get a job get a fucking proper job… Whark Whark

Whark, the seagulls were bickering above his head but Toby told himself again to breathe deeply, be calm. Desire, Ask,

Believe, Receive, that’s what Glen had instructed, the

Consultant who’d run the Mind Changes Course. Twat.

Tina’d got him to go. ‘Go on ,you might as well. Go on after the Ars Trip when you come back go on this...Nothing to lose, it’s only a month Please… for me you know.’ And rather blow off at the obvious total lack of faith she had in his plan he had agreed to and it felt like an almost fatal blow his is former self image, ‘It for fucking wankers isn’t it’, he moaned but when he pushed for some palliative sex he knew there wouldn’t be any if he didn’t go. Was he being manipulated? What other drug did he have? Who cares?

Fuck. OK. I will. Become an entrepreneur and make your own future the brochure had promised and given the IVA and the second letter threatening repossession on the flat,

Toby had finally agreed. The two weeks sitting with the smug suits had made him nauseous, as if he’d gone into a

213 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 new prison after the brief Parole on the Trip where was force-fed a false religion, in Business and he was getting all too aware that his redemption and Millennium Hamlet were now definitely on hold and his brain had shrunk to fit the flimsy Job Contract he was clutching in his hand. Get the

Money first, you cunt.

Tickle examined the back of the building; white stucco, black wrought iron work, another institution; perhaps it had been a school before or a home for dispossessed ladies. It was Victorian, high columns, formal, Upstairs Downstairs definitely, each floor for a different class, servants in the basement and attic. Toby looked into the darkness of the downstairs windows and suddenly saw faces there, pale shapes beyond the reflection on the glass and behind the black plastic blinds in-between the bar- like slats, was a girl on the verge of tears looking straight at him. A chill breeze swept around the exercise yard and it suddenly felt cold.

Was this going to be a mistake? He looked at the contract again, the ‘Heads’ as Keith had called it his employment; overall responsibility for Operations and IT it said on the front. 25 days holiday a year; shit that’s only 5 weeks, out of 52 weeks in the year, that leaves only 10% of his life for

214 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 himself and what’s this shit about bringing the company into disrepute? Who decided that? It seemed he had to give his whole life away to the Company just to be able to survive. His whole body tensed. He couldn’t bring himself quite to sign it, the whole thing felt a bit dodgy and where was the main guy anyway? Simon Froth – the Simon says guy- right name for a twit. Don’t forget your Bogroll,

Opportunity Knocks for Kiddies, CrapTV on 5 Live the man had no taste but he had made a lotta Money and that was all that mattered now and Toby better get close. ‘No stop it…’ a childs voice coming from the back of the house, a tiny hand grabbing hold of the edge of the small frosted window by the door the childs voice whining: ‘No stop it, no, not so hard,’ What the fuck was that? Then Keith’s voice, a rapping on a door, ‘Simon hurry up. He’s waiting, we can’t afford to….’ Tickle felt cold again. Yeah, definitely dodgy but he needed a job and Mind Changes had told him to make it happen Think IT, Be IT, Live POSITIVE- live as if it already had.

Whark Whark Whark Ahhhhaaaarr…a scream darted out into the yard, mixing with the bickering gulls and Toby sat up instinctively flicking away his fag he hadn’t quite lit.

Keith was coming back in a pick-up-a-penguin strut, clipboard in hand. ‘Froth’ll be down shortly’ he said sharply,

‘things are very tight at the moment you see. Time, resources I mean,’ he added sharply, ‘no worries with the

Money of course what with Bartone and the rest, so let’s carry on regardless heh and make a start’. Keith began rolling through the candidates CV; name, age, what he’d be doing. Toby hoped he wouldn’t ask in detail about all the technical stuff, C++ and that Strike shit, or dig too deeply into a couple of vague jobs he’d added covering up his time in Rehab, LA and NYC. He noticed Kieths hands were shaking slightly, and wondered if he had a problem too but

Keith’s face gave nothing away. ‘And you’re happy with the contract then, you read it yes?’, ‘Fine ...err’ Tickle said, then ventured ‘What about share options?’ thinking it would be good to show he believed in the Killer App IT dream even after the Virtual Nightclub, he wanted still to. ‘But its

Fantasy Think’ it should be avoided at all costs, ‘the real aim of sobriety is to meet Life on Lifes Terms’, Gwen had said on the phone last week from Santa Fe. But surely everyone needs the idea of a pot at the end of the rainbow don’t’ they? and the recent blaze of IPO’s, Yahoo, Netscape,

AOL and Amazon.com, its boss Bezor the geek now worth a cool 180mill, confirmed that these particular dotcom pots

216 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 weren’t just a dreams in a dream. ‘I know I know I know but really Gwen it could happen, you see’ feeling her disapproval down the line, ‘ it’s all about getting on the right train’. ‘It could be you, It could be you, It could be you’, said Keith now pointing a finger at Toby, ‘Hit the

Jackpot eh’, joking and then went flat faced again, ‘To go for it or not to go for it, that is the question eh? What do you think?’ Toby sat up trying to match the senior executives’ serious intent and decided to play his card, the one KOK had said he needed to play in order to play and get in with the share. ‘In the end my boy you’ve got to stake your claim, get them to believe you’ve got some added value and they’ll soon let you in the game to play’ and Tickle then outlined to Keith, acting the ultra-focused exec totally positive, about Freespace, his future high intensity self generated content channel, fed by ads, and how would develop that alongside the directory for when broadband would come on line but he needed a slice of the parent company, pre IPO , trying to play the big man but really he was just desperate for some crumbs for him off this little rich mans plate.

‘Ah Simon, you’re here, at last’ said Keith whispering quickly into Tickles ear ‘Just stick to your story, don’t mention Freespace yet and you’re on board.’ Suddenly he was looking like a man who needed all the support he could get. ‘Hi, Welcome, so good to meet you at last’ Simon Froth looked so young, thought Toby, in fact a bit of a flid.

Sweating, goofy teeth, curly hair, a spot hovering over his weak chin, the Boss sat and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his pink Jackson and Ray T-shirt. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, mate, much too busy making money you know,’ he shouted slapping Toby across his neck. Toby stiffened; he didn’t like over familiarity, he just wanted the job. Right.

Git.

‘So Toby Tickle is it?, A star to be reborn, again eh? the comeback kid. Snot wasn’t it, Oh yeah Spit, I knew one of the guys who put up the dosh...Did quite well didn’t it if I remember, shame it was so long ago eh..So it’s back to reality is it eh Mr. Ex actor. Failed Actor, I know not a nice handle’ And Simon looked at Tickle making him feel like an old piece of meat. ‘Don’t worry we’ll fix you up with a new life, a new part. So, this tickles your fancy does it?’ and he gave off a high pitched squeal of a laugh, ‘Hey, Keith,

218 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 gettit? Tickles your fancy does he eh?’ Keith smiled but wanted Simon to focus on getting this mid management geek signed up. They needed a Fall Guy in place ASAP, to blame in front of the Board if it goes tits up, and to do all the work Simon wasn’t doing and what Simon didn’t know about, for the mid-term plan that Keith had shaken on only last week at Big Bazs Bash, to get Cabby away from the

Froths by the end of the year and buy out the rest of the suckers out on the Cabby Board cheap.

‘Look Tickle, if you want to join us you’ve got to believe, right’ but Simon had got onto a roll,’ Look believe me,

Cabby is going to be the new AOL, a billion dollar company by fall, Believe me, Belief is all, anything is possible now

Believe me everything is possible. OK?’ and Simon stared intently at Tickle who was trying not to squirm. ‘Come on where your conviction. Didn’t you do the chanting the 80s thing? Bicky, Janet and Jeff did and look where they are now? Top of the Pile right? Buddhism isn’t it, the world is what you believe it is, right, OK?’ he insisted and Toby nodded a lot, terrified the job was slipping away because he wasn’t being enthusiastic. ‘Look Believe me Cabby is going to have a million users by year end and be worth a billion

Cabby takes you where you want to go, right and you’ve got to believe that’s going to be a whole new world’. ‘Yes, yes, of course, Great Vision’ nodded Tickle vigourously up and down ‘Wow wow wow a police car passed, oh, wow wow wow oh oh oh oh…Simon was sounding like Tony fucking Blair last summer with Things can only get better, at dawn over the Thames on Election night Things can only get better, Wow wow wow oh, wow wow wow oh oh oh oh…and Toby wondered if the goofy teeth bloke opposite had helped Mandy with New Labours PR …‘like the rising of a new age, he hopes’ had said Jeremy on Newsnight with his trademark skepticism leaking from his grin. ‘You do believe, don’t you Tickle? You do have the faith, are you ready together for such an adventure, are you ready to conquer the world?’ Simon asked boggle eyed. ‘Yeah sure’ said Toby to the hyped up entrepreneurs face, ‘of course.

Why else would I be here? And Ive bought with me my

Freespace Proejct Ive got the Plan in place, and the auxilliary team, Shrike knows and Longleat, is in the wings and it will double the Cabby value pre IPO I assure… .’ applying his own earnest look, killer determination brow combined with blue-eyed idealist stare, it was one of his

Simon, I believe, I believe we can conquer the world. In fact I know it will be so’ and Simon opened his arms and hugged him. Oh Gawd, Toby felt stupid and small thinking about the twats wet armpits and spluttering mouth, it was all so false this Bicky Tanks PR prodigy full of shite, a bad actor acting in his own shit film. ‘Tickle.. Sign here’, Keith suddenly said, pushing in his clipboard in front of Tobys face. ‘Sign for Gods sake sign’ shouted Simon at him like a preacher, ‘Go on Go on you kandoo it as Zeus says, sign and we’ll get Freespace in front of the board tomorrow’ and

Toby, wanting to believe and wanting stop the hot smell of

Simon coming even closer to him, suddenly signed on the dotted line. Fuck it what did he have to lose? And Simon hugged him again. ‘Welcome aboard’ then walked away, smirking at Keith who shook Tickles hand. ‘Tomorrow start

OK and get the stuff ready for the Board? It’s the big one tomorrow so we need to be on top form. Here Ill show you to the door. Go tell the good news to the wife heh’ as if he knew the harsh reality of Toby’s almost celibate life and he led Tickle out into the high hall with the black and white marble floor. ‘I’m glad you’re joining us, we need a safe pair of hands here. I’ll see you tomorrow OK. Take care’,

Stunned. Tickle felt like a toy solder, on parade in the backyard by himself. He had a job, a job job and Toby couldn’t believe it quite. A job. Thank god they hadn’t asked him anything technical as he didn’t have a clue on the IT side of things, but it seemed neither did they and they didn’t seem to care and suddenly now he had one, a job, a job job, PAYE and he wasn’t sure if he was meant to laugh or cry.Why didn’t he believe that Freespace wasnt going to happen and they werent taking him seriously. He should call Tina anyhow and let her know the supposed good news, well at least from the outside. ‘Yeah, PAYE, and Health.. .’ all the fear and nervousness were over and they could relax at last. Normal, the life was there now they had sort of agreed they both wanted, the outside all looking good, normal as it was meant to be, a Baby a house car and everything would get better now… But why did he feel so sad? Inside out?

Carefully walking back across the black and white marble tiles, Toby became aware of a whimpering coming from

222 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 above. It was the girl whose face Toby had seen in the window now sat alone crumpled on the stairs, a bag and coat at her feet as if she was going somewhere. She looked up conscious that Toby was staring at her, blond hair, round face and a dark line of mascara running down each cheek. She looked sweet but very sad, a victim of the street, another Bosnian teenager put into the slave trade all her innocence dead. Should he console her? He asked himself but Tickle instead turned sharply away and headed for the exit. He didn’t want to think about that, the possibility of tear, he was in it now, war and the Money and there was no turning back now and as he stretched out for the door he noticed his shoulder had a damp patch, and on the other one; Simon’s armpits must have left a sweat stain on each.

An hour later Tinas eyes widened and her warmth went through him top to toe. ‘Oh Tickle I’m so glad’ and it really did make her happy. He could feel her body slacken, that black load of the debt she’d been bearing on her shoulders finally dissipating, the IVA hounds of AMEX recalled, the waste and potential finality of the miscarriage lifting and yes they could now move on, make the life that they

223 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 thought they both wanted, it just meant that he would have to join in, be like all the others, Rightsizing as the people at the Crypt rehab had called it. Oh God did he have to, thought Toby, wouldn’t it mean that the Real Toby or at least the one that could be, the comeback, Millennium

Hamlet and all that would die. Shut up, Things can only get better, he told himself, he it could be you, Things can only get better, Tonys refrains kept going on and on in his head, as though he was making himself believe it too And once

Toby had a job she’d try for a Baby again, it was her own private deal. Job, Love, Baby and with her Fortieth looming over her she couldn’t wait any longer, Tobys employment melted her chastity belt and she pushed down the remaining little niggles of doubt as Tina said suddenly to

Toby, standing there all sheepish in the doorway, ‘Come on now, come on lets go to bed’.

Pushing and pulling Pushing and pulling, Pushing and pulling, five minutes later and Tobys stomach opened up as he pushed down into her again trying to get away from the growing unease that this job was a sell out, another nail in coffin of his real self, pulled by the tide of the woman’s wanting Pushing and pulling as if it was the sort of oblivion

224 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 that he still longed for, the sea of her warmth his life pushed back again, it would have to be lived later on once others goals had been achieved. Pushing and pulling but he just couldn’t resist it, he knew it, the impregnation of her was his crampon into the rock of life, the real Real and it seemed to be stuck in his mind now that it was the one thing that would give him some purchase on this Earth.

Baby, Her and the relief Pushing and pulling ,Work and

House, Money and Pushing and pulling, great liars are great magicians he remembered Young Hitler had said and even knowing that it would ultimately harm him, the sea he longed to engulf him, Toby said fuck it, smelling the honey and the shit now he dived down inside her again.

And that night he dreamt, of swimming with fishes, again.

------

12.

Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do

not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not

deserve to live."

Adolf Hitler

‘You know its good you’re here as well ?’ it was the same

Janice as the one at Predator welcoming Toby to the office the next day, which made him feel weird even if she was smiling all willing as usual, ‘Last of the survivors heh?’

She’d changed a bit, to fit the new role, now a peroxide blond and dressed smarter in an olive green trouser suit. It looked like she was determined to make a go of this

Company, after the debacle of Predator and the VNC. It turned out Keith was her old boss, her first boss at Needles and Vane where she’d gone after Grange Hill Comp. He had got her into Electrobux when he’d sold out, which she’d only left to go to because of the mess up with Craig. So when Keith had rung about Cabby it had been a bloody relief; like the first lover her first boss’s voice was all reassuring reminding of a more innocent time. OK, he was bit of a tight bastard but all bosses were and at least with

Keith you knew where you stood, at least with Keith there would be real money rather than ‘Just wait another month or so’ from Saul, ‘Oh. Did I say that last month?’ Keith was kosher and it gave Janice faith that Cabby would take her where she needed to go and that was somewhere safe.

‘You’ll be alright here Toby’ she assured him. ‘Said hello to

Strike yet? ‘ she asked ‘His royal genius is downstairs converting the Nightclub into a fucking Car’ she chortled ‘So we three are the package as Simon calls us. You gotta laugh haven’t you..’

‘Tickle is it? I’ve never met someone called Tickle. I’m

Derek, I’m the new marketing director, the boys next door just signed me up too’, the boisterous baldie who’d blustered into the office had interrupted Janice as if she wasn’t even there. He looked like everything that Toby was frightened of becoming: same build but with the beer pot, black suit and overloud shirt all cheery. Toby shriveled.

‘Dot-commery, don’t know what’s it about, Simon says you’re the one whose meant to fill me in on all that jargon like,’ he said in a sort of Midland accent. ‘I’ve been dealing with peanuts and beer for the last 5 years. Hear there’s some spondoolies in this though’ he chuckled and slapped

Tickles back. ‘We’re in for a right adventure aren’t we, and

I’m glad to have you to help me along’. Were the boys being clear? grumbled Toby to himself, he was meant to be

Number 2 to the Boys at the firm and now here’s this guy who says he was his boss, or was it some sort of executive joke him being set up as a middle management jerk?

‘Janice can you get the employment contracts pronto’ it was

Simon calling from inside the senior executive suite, ‘and be a little dear and go get me dry cleaning, that half-caste totty at reception’s got the ticket if she got enough brain to remember where she put it’ his booming voice echoing through the building. ‘Alright. Alright’ Janice called back ‘

Straightaway- I don’t know if I’m coming and going’ she laughed to Toby, rushing off. ‘Only joking baldies,’ the voice came back, ‘I’m no bigot, didn’t mean half caste totty - half caste titty, was what I meant’, the voice guffawed encouraging the others inside to laugh. ‘Come in me slapheads. Don’t worry we’ve got no interns here and cigars are definitely banned’ Simon squealed into giggles at the wittiness of his allusions to Presidents Clintons recent gaff.

When the five big men had all got round the table and shut the door, Simon now serious announced grandly, ‘We’ve decided that we need to do some restructuring’ he said,

‘The overhead has become too much of a burden and the online advertising has not matured as quickly as it had been previously forecast’, it sounded like Simon was already practicing lines for an Excuse in preparation for the

Board Meet the next day. ‘So the names? Let get at it’, it was a hunched up fat boyman in golfing gear, chewing his finger tips like a sow eating greens grunted in a snarl, I’ve got the list for the chop’ hitching his Dockers up over is flabby midriff. ‘This my Fat Bro Chris’ laughed Simon, ‘Head of Product supposedly’. Was this the dress down dotcommery everyone was on about wondered Tickle, but with someone so white and flabby the polo shirt just didn’t suit? Chris looked at Simon with mean little eyes ‘I want you to do these,’ he continued, his crocked lips curling into half a smile as he took one of the marker pens and started to go through the names that were written on the board.

‘Elise, snotty bitch’ and crossed her out, ‘Trevor?’, ‘I never liked his attitude’ piped up Simon joining in, enjoying it.

‘Sonia. Had her. Not much cop’, Chris went red and started to giggle, a sort of rasping whine, his lop sided shoulders going up and down robotically. Derek sought out Tickles

229 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 eyes opening his own in a slightly worried way. ‘Cross them off, all the advertising lot, they haven’t delivered, fuck ‘em’, demanded Keith, beaming, as if saying that’s my boys, now we’re going to be proper execs doing the Business, the true

Blue Business way. ‘OK, who’s going to do it? The actual act?’ said Simon rhetorically, as if in a pre rehearsed routine. All heads turned first to Tickle, and then slowly to

Derek, fixing on him.

The door opened. It was Janice slightly sweaty under a heap of Simons dry cleaning, ‘We’re just going through dismissal procedures Janice my darl’ said Simon, ‘We need your assistance as sweet as it is’ Janice’s face changed colour rapidly red to yellow to white; she knew immediately what it was. ‘Yeah, yeah yeah of course, let me just sort this lot out’ she said flustered, blurting out ‘They said they couldn’t get the stains out of the trousers’ and in the awkward beat that followed her out and Tickle said ‘Do you mind if I nip to the loo’ moving to catch up Janice away from the fetid exec conference crew.

A big cloud had come over out back, a shower brewing and the gulls had gone, moving inland. ‘They just can’t do this

230 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 to people, it’s not fair, they don’t know how to treat people’ the Silk Cut was shaking in Janices fingers. ‘I’ve already got the court case from Mary, the one Chris run over, its so much bloody paper work. Look, sorry, thanks, better get on’ and she stubbed out the half smoked fag and hurried down into the basement. ‘Oh yeah, and Strike says he needs to talk to you urgently’ she shouted out disappearing into the darkness ‘trouble downstairs he says’ and Toby realized he hadn’t gone into the basement yet, the boiler room as Keith had called it, where the actual work was done, although he’d be here almost two days, he’d been too busy upstairs watching his back. Although as Director of IT and Ops his place was downstairs, with the production team, but he sensed he needed to stay upstairs now to watch his back, there with so much sacking about, he might get caught up in the flak. It felt like this JobJob came with the Redundancy attached, its underbelly, and there in- between, for the employee, fear became a way of life.

It began at 2pm, the queue, Derek sitting there flushed going through the procedure his knew really going under the table, the staff members as Chris kept calling them in

231 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the same sort of way Jason had talked of Users at the VNC, with the same stupid grin-sneer and they came in first with a forced enthusiasm as if wanting to discuss progress, sales in the pipeline, but then, crumpling when they saw the envelopes neatly arranged on the table hangdog they listened to Dereks spheel, ‘Having looked at the figures, following a business review, and consultation with the

Board, it is with great regret that we are going to have to let you go’. It was another script, they must have concocted the lines together over sarnees and beer. Keith was happy, it made the nebulous nature of this software lark more real.

A sacking, a purge, a restructure to keep the Money sweet, it was par for the course, the form. Get in a New Manager, his ignorance of the situation reducing the pain for him and everyone else, designed to contain the emotion before it could be felt. Yeah keep it real, reasonable though Keith, we don’t want any feelings to upset the applecart, and again a twinge in his chest came as he thought of his old mate.

Derek definitely wasn’t used to the role, Toby saw that. His general act was all cheery bonhomie, alright matey, and now here he was playing the SBA, Senior Business Analyst,

232 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 all serious, delivering the outcome of the consultation period which seemed to have lasted less than a day. But in the end only one of them, the staff members, put up a fight. He was the main guy, Ringo, dressed like a Beatle in flower power days, the manager selling ads on Cabbys front end. ‘Look I’ve done my job, I’ve sold to all the key brands, but without reach what can we do, you didn’t market the product properly, we’re only getting 300 click thrus a week.’

He let a pause pass, cool man cool, but it was obvious he was very nervous open necked surrounded by suits. ‘ And you know that means there can’t be many more than 20 people actually using Cabby at the moment… and that’s not much use is it’ Ringo took a deep breath, and gulped; Ringo was bringing everything he had to bear to battle with the

Management, ‘And its not what you said to the Board, I know, or the Press.’

The room went very quiet for a moment; Derek froze, then looked at Tickle. ‘Users we’ve got 100,000 of the fuckers already’, Simon had boasted to Tickle and Derek before lunch and Toby had heard him that morning shouting down the phone to potential investors ‘ No mate, a million fucking eyeballs by Christmas, and in last months Times New Media

Special Chris had been quoted that over 50,000 people checked the News on Cabby every morning; this and the power of interaction made the impact for brand advertising much stronger … ‘That’s not true’, Simon blurted out at everyone, ‘It depends what metric you’re using’ beginning to go red. ‘I’ve got the print outs’ Ringo said quietly,

‘undeniable’, then looked at Keith who sat reptile still, ‘I have the documentation to prove it’. The lizard man blinked. ‘I hate to think they might fall into the wrong hands’. Then Keith got up slowly and walked over to the window to make a phone call, but Simon, bright red, couldn’t stop himself exploding, jumping up pointing at the guy trying to keep his cool... ‘You’re a fucking cunt, you haven’t delivered’, pointing his finger at Ringo, who sat there rigid ‘so you blame us but it’s you, its you, you you fucking cunt…’ he said but Chris pulled Simon aside purple and spitting, away to the corner where he got something out of the desk and gave it to his brother with a glass of coke.

Tickle and Derek were completely static and Janice had let her hair drop over her face. Keith then stepped back in, a thin-lipped smile coming out from underneath the iron grey

234 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 quiff, ‘I’ve had a word with Daniel upstairs at Footie.com and it looks like there may be an opening for you. You better get up there sharpish though. Janice papers please’ he snapped, ‘And Ringo, don’t forget the confidentiality agreement is still in place’ he said. ‘Err yeah, right Mr

Dimmitt, Sir, thanks’, taking the envelope in shaking hands and with the hint of a bow he quickly went.

The room hummed with the hint of violence left by the almost confrontation and all the blokes sighed when the next staff member, a petite woman/girl with a bob cut came in. ‘Hi, Sonia, you know what’s happening’ said Simon and, with hands glasped in front of her she sat down and almost immediately began to blub, rocking back and forth on her chair. The rank of men sat there and just looked.

Chris started to giggle and Janice pulled out a Kleenex box; she’d thought of everything giving her one and put an arm around Sonias shoulders. Keith suddenly looked really angry and marched out of the room and Simon was going red again, but not sure the response. It was Chris, smirking, who came over to the crying woman, his hunched up back almost creating a limp and stroked her hair, ‘Its alright there, Sonny, lets go outside, talk it through, I’m sure we can work something out,’ and almost lifting her out

235 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 of her seat he led her out of the room, turning to Simon as he left with his lips curled in that cross between a smirk and a snarl. ‘Concludes the business, gents I suppose’ he said and left.

‘I don’t know about you but I could do with a fucking pint’ said Derek and Simon slapped him on the back, ‘Well done chum’, it was though Derek had passed some test. ‘Yeah let’s have a drink before the bonding session tonight. Tickle you too’ Toby didn’t want to go, he really didn’t want to be management now, to qualify it seemed you needed to become a cunt. ‘Shut up and get near the Money’ he told himself again, ‘be a boss not sodding staff and be stuffed.

‘OK’ he smiled thinly ‘Ill be along in a minute’.

The room was then empty and Toby breathed in the quiet.

It had been mad busy since getting here, no time to think.

He looked out of the window into the high blueness and saw a jet, a silver streak trailing behind it and the yearning seeped into him again, versucht, a longing for a life without all these No–Win choices, choices he didn’t want to have to make. He had no desire to be a businessman, a player but he had to get near the Money and for that he had to learn

236 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 how to play Top Dog. He let out a long sigh, feeling exhausted in this having to pretend to be someone else again he didn’t want to be only in order to become someone else and he stood there, still for a moment, watching the planes vapour fade into the dying light of the day. Was he going to hell?

Just white, white under white cloud, a desert of ice and it sent a chill under his spine. The Snow cap, North Pole, and it made the Californian nervous thinking of how cold it was beneath him and he pushed up his wraparound shades.

What if they crashed? What was that movie, where they ended up eating each other, it’d made him want to give up

Steak. Shit, he wasn’t really into business trips and he was glad that he would be away for long, before he’d be back in

Blessed and not far from the surf. They’d been up for 4 hours another 4 to go and he’d better go floss soon. The heavily tanned man in Business with a black suit and polar neck was checking his teeth in the BarAir shiny tray. Did they have floss available in Europe, the Colonies as he’d joked with Si a few hours before and he could help feeling like Harrison after the treasure, even if the guy was a little course. The original was a cross between Frank Sinatra,

Jack and Sean Connelly in 007 days so Sky had always considered himself a third Brit. Ahh, he’d be there soon,

Ingerlandt and the pot of gold, one end at list according to the Book of Judy my first Sweet.

Operation Billion Dollar Company, second shrike, get the

Brit Board to shift over to the Valley and kick in with the fundraising round he’d already lined up for Cabby Mark 2 which, although nobody knew it he was already CEO and

Chairman designate confirmed IPO in Q3 1999 lined up and he had the PowerPoint and Business card printed to show it was true. Sky took another swig of his Diet coke to settle the little turbulence in his midriff. Ok, technically it was a felony but only for a week or even a day, if he could get the

Board to OK the Heads, he just needed that mail to come through from High, showing the Big One was Stateside and everything else would fall into place. You just gotta believe man, Standing on the Shoulders of Giant, he had his pitch lined up, and that was the key, BELIEVE IT REAL the way he’d became Regional Sales Champ1998 and the way he was to become a dotcom Billionaire before 2K.

Yeah relax he told himself and began to flick through TIME again as his teeth glinting in the darkened cabin as he did so. Wayne Mudrock at the Reception for Free Speech at the

US Embassy Beijing, John Malones campaign dinner for

Senator Klingon of Colarado courtesy Freedom Inc, Gary

Millers fourth wife, Izuzu, at home at their Kauai Retreat, and he could see his own cover now.. The phenomenal rise of Sky Reckitt, Ecommerce guru Entrepreneur

Extraordinary, from Xerox champion to Online King, yeah it flowed, he was going to show those motherfuckers down

San Jose, push their snide asides when he’d outlined his dream in the canteen back down their throats. Sky in Maui.

Sky and Bill, Sky and Larry, Sky and Mudrock at the World

Summit, Bush junior for Prez 2000 beaming. Sky with Imi his Japanese wife-cum-slave… Silver frames arranged on the Liberace Grand before the Ocean View and slipping his

Tods off, he lowered the seat down into he sleep position folding his feet over like it did in the ad, hands behind the head, Relaxation equals Confidence, the Leadership

Seminar had underlined and Sky almost laughed out loud as he saw his white cottoned toes wiggle thinking of Bugs

Bunny in his Roadrunner days.

‘Ahh Dopey and Grumpy our two baldies welcome. Come on down’, two hours later arms outstretched Simon greeted

Derek and Tickle into the Imperial Dreams, the sweat pools evident under each. The management bonding session was about to begin and you could smell the dread. Derek and

Tickle sat at one side of the table with Keith and Simon on the other. Chris hadn’t arrived yet and Keith was agitated; he’d instigated the TBS, the team bonding session as the

Mind Changes publication had put it and he needed to keep control, after all it was his Rep. ‘Let’s order anyway,’ he said ‘Chris’s is ringing the States’ said Simon ‘Sky wanted to go over the financials’ ‘Who’s Sky’ asked Derek suddenly weary; since the sackings he’d become sullen always looking slightly uptight. Keith looked at Simon, in a ‘need to know’ spot check sort of way. Simon obviously didn’t know who needed to know and taking a big slug of beer answered

‘Oh Sky, he’d a marketing guru we met on a fact finding tour in the States, he’d coming over for an consultation you’ll meet him soon’. Tickle felt Derek tense up beside him, nobody had told him either, ‘I… you … where... I presume this Sky is going to report to me yes’ Derek coughed out a prawn cracker ‘We need to go over things clearly’ he said gasping for air, Toby banging him on the back. ‘Yeah of course mate. We’ve got the meeting

Outside a little red sports car had pulled up with a shudder and a screech on the kerb. A young woman pushed herself out and she was furious, slamming the door then shouting back inside at the driver and then.... Was that a slap? It was Sonia, the tear merchant of the afternoon, clambering out coat flapping in the wind obviously not knowing where she was for a moment, then looking directly into the restaurant. ‘Don’t worry she can’t see in’ whispered Keith

‘its mirrored’, but she stuck up one finger anyway mouthing

Fuck You and rushed off North towards the tube. The Boys laughed as Chris came in, grinning, rubbing his chin in mock agony. ‘Sorry I’m late chaps. Little domestic difficulty, she didn’t like the redundancy terms it seems’. Keith grinned, Simon was salivating and Chris’s blummery body was shaking up and down. ‘Anyway that concludes the sucking, sorry I mean sacking, hey boys?’ and the execs burst out laughing as if Chris had won the prize for being the best bastard of them all and then, all-powerful, he looked flat faced at Derek and Tickle, as if they were kids who had been allowed to sit with the grown up this evening

After ordering Keith, as if following instructions from some how to bonding manual said ‘So let’s do a round robin. Let’s get to know each other. OK, err.. tell us about yourself

Tickle’ said Keith. ‘Toby, you go first’ ‘Oh..err..Hi my names

Toby and I’m an alcoholic….’ and after a quizzical look they all laughed Toby pretending his unintentional honesty was a joke. This wasn’t the place to display any vulnerability, so he continued his heavily edited story, the emphasis on dropping names and the early successes, the Evening

Standard Award, Hamlet, Shame and being Young Hitler and then the Hollywood episode sort of inferring that the fuck up and the Crypt, was because of some sort of a deeply personal tragedy, ‘You know Family’ and the Boys buried their heads into their laps, the possibility of emotions imminent, like mustard gas coming over the wire. So it was his choice, not failure, Toby explained, that he’d left acting and moved into production as he put it, self justifying furiously rather than admit that in fact he had just run out of himself, his confidence shot to pieces as even his best ideas hadn’t worked.

‘So Chris, you were about to say?’ said Keith keen to get away form the smell of fear Toby was giving off and trying to stick to his Plan as per the Mind Change recipe. ‘Speak

Up Bro’ nudged Simon. ‘Err.. After Art College I went to

Warners as a media executive, looking after video releases nationwide, then…’ ‘Fucking Rep’ whispered Derek slightly too loudly, eyes bloodshot on his third beer and again

Simons cold eye caught the sneer ‘and er I have been developing a number of media projects..’ Chris added little else as there wasn’t much else to add, yet. ‘Now Keith, me old mucker, your turn’ demanded Si and Keith grinned his

Daffy Duck smile. ‘Right’ he said ‘ Lets see- set up Needles, printing, music industry, covers and that, 25 years, sold out last year, did alright, invested in Cabby, and other ventures although I don’t know exactly what they do’ he smiled in a benevolent way. ‘They call me an Angel I believe’ he concluded bashful, ‘Innocent but all knowing, isn’t that the definition’ said Chris ‘Oh Yes, You’ve always been an Angel for me Keithy darling’ said Simon hugging him and Keith grinned more. Perhaps it was a gay thing thought Toby, it definitely looked like Simon tickled some fancy the way he made Keith blush, couldn’t the man see that he’s a total prat.

‘Right Derek, we know all about you don’t we, Marines, and selling boys, toys and peanuts, and getting beered up, professionally that is’ added Derek, making fun of Simons snide remark, ‘What about you Simon?, Simon says was a real hit wasn’t it even if only 5 people actually watched it on

Live TV’ he smirked and Simon smiled tightly. ‘Well, it was a pilot wasn’t it, something to liven up Kelvin’s blind darts and bunnies.’ Simon took a deep breath as if rewinding a tape. ‘You all probably have read my story but Ill tell you anyway. Life in the Day of, didn’t you see it in the Sunday

Times Mag a month back, a bit of Cabby puff, I know a fashion editor there’ with that it’s who you know smirk. ‘So, after Uni went into Bicky Tanks PR, one of the key executives you know, managing a number of key accounts,

Clairol, Sega, then decided to go it alone, setting up a management company for bands and…’ ‘Bros was it?’ laughed Derek, finishing his fourth Izazi. ‘No Eyore...the

Skids’ Simon said bluntly one eye closing; he didn’t like that and somewhere another little mark was knotched. ‘And looking for a new business opportunity’ Simon went on ‘I saw the Internet as a huge potential for mass entertainment, and that’s when I came up the idea for Cab

1 and from there…’ Keith took a big intake of breath, teeth

244 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 gritted with a silent O shit. ‘Who came up with the idea? I fucking came up with the idea’ blurted out Chris ‘the original concept’ he added. ‘Bollocks, it was my vision, it was all my…’ ‘ I came up with the first fucking idea, you wanted to do that virtual singer shit’ shouted back Chris but

Simon wouldn’t back down‘ Shut the fuck up’ he shouted, ‘

No you’ve got to admit it, it was agreed Id get the same credit, I’m the creative here the fucking artist here’ said

Chris, ‘I’m the one did the foundation at Tring,’ almost pleading, ‘ I wont fucking agree’ Simon slamming down the bottle on the table, spittle spotting the corners of his mouth, ‘You do what I say, and I can say what I fucking want’ and the beer bottle then shattered as he slammed it down again, the foreign business types and Chinese families turning to see a flock of black and white waitresses swooping down to clear up the fractured mess. ‘Just going for a piss’ said Toby making his escape.

Glad to be away from the testerone storm, Toby leaned against the basin edge, calm inside the large and empty toilet with mirrored walls. He looked down and saw his manhood shriveled all foreskin like a fish; he must be a twat to be in this whole stupid mess. ‘Liar wanker little Liar

245 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 wanker twat’ whispering amid the urinal jets spurts and in the row of his faces the multiple mirrors created he suddenly saw the all the half lies his life had become …the odd thing is that the silicon that makes the chip that is the core point to the computer is made out of the same stuff as the mirror that distorts the face and indeed counts the time that the computer seems also to manipulate – sand that is, and... Shut up, stop talking shit Toby told himself, get back to what Glen at Mind Changes had said, ‘Stick to your goals on the Personal Development Plan. Think Positive.’. The bank manager was happy to forward the loan on for the yacht refurbishment based on the existing collateral.. ‘Say it to yourself,’ the Time Management Consultant had urged

‘Say what you want to achieve, over and over again as if you’ve already achieved it. Positive Thinking, do it looking at your face in the mirror in the morning and in the end it will become true I assure you’, and muttering to himself

Toby left the fairground toilet, his internal voice still ricocheting around the mirrored walls.

Things had settled down at the table the Black and White waiters standing around them like a guard but there were no more smiles and Chris had sunk into his seat further, his

246 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 bosoms underneath his too tight golf shirt sitting on his belly, pig eyes caught in the frozen hate of his older brother, hating himself for still being a position to have to.

‘To Cab 1’ suddenly said Derek on his sixth Izazi obviously well far gone ‘May it take us to where we want to go’ he said raising his bottle ‘and I fooking hope so’ he said slipping into a broad Broomie type accent with Simon, miffed that he didn’t initiate the toast himself, slightly reluctantly joining in, ‘And all who sail in her. Go on Tickle have a sip,’ Toby flushed ‘ Ill stick to my water thanks’ He wanted to get out of here before it got really pissy and

Strike would be waiting for his ‘urgent’ call Janice had said and, he Toby desperately wanted to know what the urgency was all about, so he made his apologies and left. ‘A toast.

One up for Tickle’ and almost tripping again, Toby heard them laughing behind him and quickened his pace wondering if the joke had been on him. Liar wanker little liar wanker twat…

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13.

It contains a misleading impression, not a lie. It was being

economical with the truth.

Baron Armstrong of Ilminster GCB, CVO, Secretary of the

UK Cabinet under Margaret Thatcher.

“I never told anybody to lie, not a single time; never. These allegations are false. And I need to go back to work for the

American people. Now, I have to go back to work on my

State of the Union speech. And I worked on it until pretty late last night. But I want to say one thing to the American people. I want you to listen to me. I'm going to say this again. I did not have sexual relations with that woman,

Miss Lewinsky.’’

‘Ahh deed nawt have sexooel reelashons weeth that woman, Mizz Looweensky.’ Strike was practicing his

American as he’d been told to, mimicking the President on the Telly in the corner of the Dazed and Confused Bar, ‘This has gone on too long, cost too much and hurt too many innocent people. Now, this matter is between me, the two

God...’ Liar, thought Strike, Morally Bankrupt as is his fucked up country and the whole fucking civilization he heads. Capitalism without reference to the Other, Instinct without Limit, a return to the primitive and the hell it entails. And anyway why did the Dumkoph go for zeez crummy birds? ‘

Beep Beep… Strikes mobile went. It was the fall guy Tickle, loser, by now he should have been here. It was time to frighten the little man, panic the guy in order to get the additional resources that the Plan needed. ‘Hi Toby howyadooin..What's up Doc’ ‘ Err, Hi, Janice said you wanted to talk to me urgently ’ shouted Toby feeling slightly sick on the top of the juddering No 38 bus wanting Strike to tell him there was nothing so urgent as to make him feel as sick as he was. ‘Yeah there are some issues... .’ and without pause Strike began to list the problems at Cabby, the hardware, the software, the design, and most importantly the staff.. ‘They are all ready to walk. The company is fucked. The Froths are Monsters, capitalist mutants run riot they are monsters, they will gobble you and everybody else up’ Strike sounded exasperated, more

249 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 than even he wanted to admit to, but even a mathematics man, pure and the treatment of the code offended the very order of his Existence. ‘And now, they sack everybody, change strategy, Gott. Strategy my arse they haven’t got a strategy except the end of their Peenisses. I am ready to resign and the others will come with me. They are all ready to walk. Tomorrow if nothing is done. Kaput. Another one please Yah’ and Toby heard him slam down his glass. ‘Tell me what you need. Ill get it,’ Toby almost pleaded feeling his Baby, House and guaranteed palliative sex beginning to receed. ‘OK, I need’ started Shrike

‘1. proper network – servers, connection the lot

2. programming assistant x 3

3. structured methodology

4…..’

Toby listened intently making notes underlining the words he’d have to look up later. He needed to pick up this vocab quick, if he was to bullshit his way through the role, even if he didn’t know how they all fitted together and probably never would. And again he lied, assuring Strike that if he gave him a month, ok a week he’d get what he wanted, guaranteed... ‘Good luck’ Strike said suddenly sounding

‘Bite harder, yeah there, yes more Beth more’ He was almost there, the allusive point of non thought, the ecstasy that he knew really was the entire point of it all, everything, existence itself. Simon was on his third ejaculation over in the penthouse at the Gate and was already planning the next one even though he was beginning to get sore. But

Beths neck was aching and she noticed that Simons belly, which was very white, had developed odd pink spots around the belly button making her even more nauseous worrying that they might be infectious to her scalp. O gawd, why did she agree to move in? The Clinic had been adamant that it should be two years before she entered into a relationship but when Simon had picked her up from Crypt UK, there at the bottom of the leafy avenue in Surrey beaming from his open top XJS, ‘Ill help you back on your little feetykins’, despite the Programs mantras ringing in her head Be weary of dependence, Look only to the Higher Power she just couldn’t really be bothered to say no. ‘Bite harder, Teeth’ and looking up over the white expanse of his belly to the Mr

Tomato head Beth noticed a little ringlet of blood coming from Simons nostril, hovering on the horizontal above his lip. Oddly it turned her on somehow, the blood, made her finally excited and she made herself focus on finishing the job off.

Afterwards, they both stared at themselves in the ceiling mirroring smoking trying to look cool. Holding himself as if stroking a cat, Simon took another deep lug. ‘We are going to get it up, before Christmas, believe me Beth, up onto

Nasdaq soon after that I can see it, sense it, a billion dollars

I feel it now’. Simon took another deep drag. I bet he’s going to go on about giving up thought Beth, ‘Fifth today, I know I can crack it.’ Beth sighed, Simon going on and on again. ‘Just one more push one more blag. Hey Beth we got the Board tomorrow, and it almost certain, a move to the

States and $2.5 mill’ and suddenly Beths was all ears, ‘the

States move is on and then we’ll be flying, a billion dollar before the Millennium so saith our American Friend Sky’.

‘2.5 mil, nice,’ Beth repeated and she ran her bony little finger over his tummy suddenly feeling sexy again.’ My hero’ she said wondering if that gay thing, heart attack mid flow after taking the coke and Viagra cocktail, might happen to Mr little cock here. ‘Shall we do one more line

252 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 darl?' Si said propping himself up ‘You know I should set up site for these pills, the mix, yourpower.com, get up the nose of Frank gettit eh….Yeah KOK said Garthside had said the market valuation could be over 1.5 come IPO’ he said, rock solid for 3 hours and it was bigger than it usually was and it wasn’t the coke. Was he with tiny Beth just to make himself look big? ‘PDO’ Strike had whispered the other day and only now had he got it, at the time thinking it was a new Gaming platform. Fucking nerd, he’d get that fucker later, replace him as soon as they’d got the product out, then he’d settle his scores. ‘Its just like the Money, the bigger you blow the more you get, a billion dollars a billion dollars a billion dollars and who gives a shit about what’s actually being made, it’s all PR, darling, that’s what that fucking bitch Bicky always used to say, mouth and bollocks, that’s all you need make them believe it, its only real in your head. The mouth is the product in the end, how else could Jackson and Ray go gold and Simon exhaled, feeling the thing that had taken over his midriff push out the limits of his skin, but at the same time oddly nothing really to do with him and pressing the CD control becoming a Penile

Cyborg Simon as he pulled Beths head down towards him again.

‘She so sweet I got to have her,’ the 80s tune trotted across the front of his head ‘she so sweet the satchel and the cream’ ah the Skids, he’d put up the gold disc in the office for all to see, it was a pity it was only one record,

Cuckoo was good shag though and, thinking of the half caste 14 year old, Simon looked down at Beths blond mop going up and down. What the fuck were those spots on her head hope it isn’t anything odd; maybe it was time for a change of bird now, a new model, CEO level bimbo was needed, a billion dollar type of girl, he thought to himself again

As you know, in a deposition in January, I was asked questions about my relationship with Monica Lewinsky.

While my answers were legally accurate, I did not volunteer information. Indeed, I did have a relationship with Miss

Lewinsky that was not appropriate. In fact, it was wrong…

It was past midnight when Toby got home. The TV was still on and he collapsed in front seeking Standby mode i.e. Slob

Out. It didn’t work though, his brain a fizzing entity full of too much information busily processing itself without enough time to think things through and it just wouldn’t calm down whatever he had to do. He tried to picture it

254 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 now in his mind, with the calm center reflecting on the days happening. A frog at the centre of the pond the process was called and he tried going through the prioritized lists Glen had tried to show him at Mind Changes. ‘It’s all about taking control of time,’ Glen had said in the telecom follow- up but it was all such a jumble in Tobys head. He rewound the days events then fast forwarded, one day, the first day, it felt like a week, the fucked office, Janices nice smile, the toilet fucking or was that yesterday? It must have been.

The crying girls, the heaps of dry-cleaning, titty and totty, high planes making him feel suicidal, distorted mirrors, the terrible twins, pigeonholing and programming, Shrikes logic bomb everything exploding and feeling sick he decided he had to get up really early tomorrow so he could somehow get ahead of what was going on. "I know that my public comments and my silence about this matter gave a false impression….. I misled people, including even my wife. I deeply regret that..."…. Suddenly a pain bolted through his gut and he had to run to the bog. Shit. Weird, he never shat at night and now, despite the wanting to, desperately pushing, nothing came except more shots of grief.

He recovered lying in front of the TV, hungry but gut wrenched, tired but unable to rest. The Clinton stuff was going on in a loop, While my answers were legally accurate, I did not volunteer information but a new floozy from Arkansas was pictured, ugly despite the TV makeover.

Why did he, the most powerful man in the world, go for such crummy birds? ‘and there were rumours circulating in the White House, of which it’s too early to speculate’ The pictures, motels, and window lit office blocks made Toby depressed. Eyes closed now, he could smell the tacky odour of the States, drifting back to his time in Texas, air conditioning, gasoline, processed food and tense sweat, the smell of dollars grasped by fear-filled palms… $30,000, cash, used notes, Ralph’d said to him, hit her tomorrow

I’ve got the weapon, it’s clean, you’ll be in New York by sundown he said turning over the sizzling steak surrounded by the barbed wire hedge of the Evergreen Secure

Community 10 miles north of Houston Tequila was racing around Tobys bloodstream as he replied ‘Oh yeah’ to the weird looking guy who’d he’d hitched a ride with the pick up playing country and western Jesus hymn at full tilt. ‘Ralph,

Ill have it rare’ he said in the appropriate low hard voice of the drifter in the made for TV movie going to the gunshop then the lawyer Toby in the middle of the third divorce of

Jodie Foster Gang bang drunk, and pink nylon sheets pissed the next morning, running away from the psycho oilguy wanting to kill his wife running blind down the freeway into the early morning sun, running blind being sick and seeing the sign through the wet tears on the back of the truck heading East on route 68 Country blaring

GODS OWN PEOPLE

TEXAS USA

The END IS NYE

WE ARE THE CHOSEN

RAPTURE 2000AD

And writing on the back window:

And the Lord says the Kingdom of Heaven is nigh for his

chosen people….

BE SAVED BEFORE THE MILLENIUM END

The wife screaming four horseman riding out behind her white stallion splattered by the sick woman’s blood Terror,

Bewilderment, Frustration, Despair white chargers running from the horizons conflagration around him racing away,

And the TV shook as the missile flew by the hotel window cutting to Ora Giron reporting from a War at night. Toby bolted upwards soaked in sweat now sure the deal was real, the hit a decade ago in that road trip from hell running away from Mexico and Tanias botched abortion the end of their apocalyptic affair. He was sick. O gawd, please no more drinking dreams. Was he really offered Money to kill that oilman’s wife or was it two bit film part he’d played while drunk, now forgotten in that three year Stateside

Blackout. Like Reagan, movie and life collide. America. Shit.

America, everyone on the Money, everything by the dollar and they were coming over here now Tickle knew and it was as if they were after him again to make him Fall.

Yahoo, Amazon, Pets.com Real, the Americans and some guy called Sky the so called management consultant was about to land. Were the Americans were going to take over? This was it, IT, the real thing and they had invented the game Computers out of Desert Garages and the name dot-com and they were coming over now to show the hicks

258 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 in Europe how it was done. O gawd and Toby fell back again in the ruined leather of the flat sofa clutching abdomen the other on his head hoping both would rest

.. and there is the visionary, the seer, black and divine no one knows where he came from everyone is screaming at him the new media machine his eyes are lenses, his stomach a CPU and suddenly everyone wants to be inside him his fame spreading like a wildfire of Freedom Cable and soon 28 million people log on to him going to Sudan and seeing Osama Bin Laden …

And Tina looked at her so called partner lying their drooling onto his shirt, looking like an epileptic after a fit and suddenly felt the urge to shout at him, Wake Up, get to bed for fuck sake stay fit for purpose I need you now you fool.

But she couldn’t and instead she wanted to cry. She couldn’t help herself feel a pull towards him, the father of her dead child, his presence somehow pulling her back towards that loss again, the failure that had made life somehow suspended since.

It was as though she couldn’t, wouldn’t ever get away from it, the loss, being constantly reminded, a crack into which a life would always be scarred, the emptiness first

She wrapped her arms around herself now, as she felt it fill up her skin again the feeling, the wanting but not wanting at the same time, as if being horribly sacrificed to her need, the failure of it being met and the resulting shame. And here she was again, a man keeping her one step away from herself that feeling that made her smoke. She lit another

Silk Cut, relief feeling her like gas. Gas and Air, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t at the birth, but she hadn’t had a chance to show how strong she’d be. She should stop now, but fuck, she had to keep loving and the smoking smothered the anger and the pain, she had to or else. Fuck it she threw the fag away in the fire and extricating a packet from inside he dressing down she went outside to look at the moon and have a spliff. Past fullness, she thought without thinking, and a little voice reminded that it was her time of the month and she had missed again.

… and soon alls around the world join the Great Leader and the Cyborg totally connected with everyone declare a Great

Peace but Dark Suits plot against him and his Word instructing the Hackers to corrupt his inside and their Great

Lie is broadcast around the globe child porn found on the

Cyborgs hard disk downloaded from every home and black and divine man is infected, bombed and stoned his dying

260 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 broadcast live on TV and broadband PC the biggest deal since the World Cup and Live Aid and as the last beat the last amp lights the last beat of his digital clock he activates his coded DNA automatically transfusing his lifes media archive into a million clones worldwide arising around him to go proclaiming the One Way and even they the Dark

Suits cannot stop the Truth being told in these the Last

Days, Rapture, the End of Time and the Burning of the

Earth…

‘and the male of the family there, the great silverback, looks, see there, he senses we are here, but, if we remain calm, attack is highly unlikely David Attenborough crouched among the thick grass, is nervously checking behind his back. as the Gorilla is the gentlest animal of all it is Man the most aggressive who projects himself onto him and has almost hunted him to extinction …’ The great gorilla, dumb eyes munching, goes over to crouch behind a female who suckles a newborn babe and puts his arm around both.

‘Orr’, Janice couldn’t help herself cooing hugging Big Ted.

She felt all soppy, nice but strangely empty inside.

The Freedom Cable keyboard sat on her lap demanding to be fiddled with at 2 o’clock in the morning. It had arrived today and Janice couldn’t help but get excited with it, the

600 channels held all sorts of exotic locations, possibilities and opened up new vistas inside her otherwise predictable life. Was that why she was so restless? She couldn’t stop herself thinking knackered but unable to sleep. Was it because it, her life was becoming all too predictable, despite the Cabby madness sacking and funny computer stuff? Work, house, shopping, going out Saturday, shopping

Sunday, then work, house… She’d been doing it for 20 years now. 36. Oh Gawd. It was 2.16am and Janice could not sleep above the anxiety which would not go away and continued to grow. Where had it all gone? Her Life? The family, the kids, those pictures she’d been fed down the

Tube, had expected to happen and now, with the same happy family scenario available on another 200 different channels, it felt like the rest of the world had it except her.

She now banged on the keyboard to stop herself going into the gut wrench of disappointments and Wildebeest, thousands of them, drumming hooves, red dust rising, dumb faces full of intent racing across the plain, classical violins building up to a crescendo as the camera cut to a gulley, a precipice the mad herd were heading suicidally

African animals... but the soothing voice of Saint David sounded sad... ‘Orrr’ it was all too much and Janice made herself press the red button on the TV thingy, the Wand, as the instructions called it and the Screen went suddenly blank.

It was horribly quiet. Was it the new double-glazing or her road in Chigwell or just this, Life, without the Telly on?

Janice sensed her presence in the window, leading into the patio; £532.50 that glazing cost her, even at a discount from Trev, who was alright, if a bit too flirtly somehow. So what? a bit of flirting always helped she told herself, specially when it was about Money, 30% off, the haggling like, but the fact was she didn’t enjoy it as much now, it wasn’t as much fun, the froth and frolick had too much of an undertow of the past, disappointing affairs and the fear of a future, being alone. She shuddered a little as she poured the boiling water into the Spice Girl cup, (a Texaco promotion, FREE), and yes the mortgage was a bit steep

(£736.74 a month Capped at 3.99% with a 2 year redemption penalty) which was a bit of a freak out really

Black Widow, Strike had called her just before she’d left, at

9 this time the Bosses off getting pissed sorting the paperwork out, redundancy letters and P45s and the name, which despite the laugh, had underneath made her frightened, opened up that big hollow inside her, the one she kept feeling that even TV, biccies and more fags wouldn’t fill. Widow, Spinster more like and such a nasty word. She was alone, the widow who’d never married and there wasn’t anyone to help her and the idea of being stranded jobless was too much to think about now. Why did she leave Electrobux, the certainty of the Corporation had been a comfort, the weight of the huge organization behind her there like Dad, ‘his little Janny’ being hugged, before he’d gone away for the second time never to return.

Janice cuddled up in her pink flower duvet, (IKEA promotion

£9.99 complete set), and sucked in her last Silky Ultra Low,

(Duty Free from one of Uncle Johns trips), staring at the blank portable (Half Price with the Kitchen MFI), at the end of the bed and for a moment she saw Craig sitting beside her, his big body headless in the grey mirror of the TV with

Big Ted morphing into a baby on her lap. She wanted to cry. O Gawd. Why had Craig hit her? A13 back from

Southend clubbing, too much Coke too much hate, him just sacked from Eastenders and she couldn’t even remember what they were arguing about, her going on about Shel her sister in law having yet another baby, him shouting SHUT

UP and she hadn’t even mentioned her having one but then

I DON’T WANT A FUCKING BABY and WALLOP, she was bruised for a week.

‘Time heals’ Auntie Flo said as always ‘And nevermind, we’re going to Lakeside Saturday. Remember pet, its

SuperSaturday FEED THE ADDICTION and all that’ A line of white goods all along the side of the bus like Come on

Down, FEED THE ADDICTION the new poster ad for the Mall but Flo was mad for it anyhow, she didn’t need no persuading, it was an addiction and she reveled in it every week, bargains and discounts fiddling her cards, a few things tucked away ‘borrowed’ as she called it, even though

Uncle John was loaded it still gave Flo the buzz she needed.

Things can only get better, that’s what Flo liked to say even before this new lot had started at it and now Janice couldn’t get that bloody tune out of her head. Wow wow wow oh,

265 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 wow wow wow oh oh oh oh things can only get better…She hoped so anyway and although she didn’t know what it was but she knew she had to make it work. Cabby takes you where you want to go, Keith say with a wink; it had better anyway as she sensed her life sort of depended on it now, otherwise it was back with Itcouldbeyou only a billion to one chance of happiness like everyone else she knew and she turned into the White Line ( House of Fraser New Year

Sale) and tried to turn off her head… wet snouts snorting,

Simon and Chris shouting, a hundred hands coming out grabbing her in a grappling net drawing her into the darkness, the blood, clots, pains, a thousand discounts raining on her head,hurry hurry half price, free credit, 2 for

I 3 for 4, bargains galore, treat yourself FEED THE

ADDICTION, , cots and nappies, a double buggy £299.999 reduced to £199.99 Sale at Mothercare, MID SUMMER

MADNESS Special…FEED THE ADDICTION...Last Days of

Super Sale...Hurry Hurry… a baby crying panicking, she’d been left behind CCTV a speck abandoned alone in the crowd, baby crying home alone away, panicking under heaps of suits with stains that even the dry cleaning couldn’t shift…..Janice bolted up hot and sweaty, a cat cawling outside. ‘Fucking mogs’ she said, forgetting what she’d just dreamt, checking the clock, 3.15am ( Bluewater

£1.99), a vague pink glow outside, a pain in her gut. Bloody period, her time of the month again and they were getting worse she thought and she’d have to get the train soon.

Shit.

3.27am. Thursday. BOARD today. Yank. Her list… shut up.

End of the Month. Ooh Pay Day today, then TGIFF (thank god it’s fucking Friday) and Janice felt suddenly better, thinking of the relief it would give her depositing the money, safe and falling back she tried to snatch some rest before another office day broke.

------

14.

Greed is poignant because it is always haunted and emptied

by future possibility; it can never engage in the present"

Anam Cara, John O’Donohue

Toby woke up sweating again. 3.32 am. The dry cough of a fox. He hadn’t slept, just turned off for a while, StandyBy and obviously the worries had been still running on underneath; something was going to be lost, even if something else was to be gained. It was his big play today,

Freespace in front of the Board, he was ready for his performance, hi tech entrepreneur making a bid for ‘points on the action’, as KOK called it, ‘go on my boy, risk is what your rep is built on and Toby was glad KOK his businessman daddy would be there today. Jeremy had said the day was going to be the hottest of the year on

Newsnight, as hot as it’s ever been in May and Toby was presenting his Plan to the Board, FS version 3.2, he called it and he heard the chant begin like tinnitus at the back of his head..itcouldbeyouitcou… but it also meant sticking his neck

268 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 out, in this case for half a mill and he knew the Americans were coming, fearing he was going to get sacked before the big Money arrived, so then there would be no house and

Tina would be too frightened to have the Baby and wasn’t the Baby the reason for doing all this shit, confirming that he himself had a life in the first place.

She lay there now beside him, a black lump in the darkness, something primitive almost frightening, cooking, broiling, brewing, ripening, reproducing and Toby scanned the ticker tape of adverbs running across his frontal lobes, trying to describe and somehow contain the implications of the pregnant woman lying beside him. Baby was on his production line, another item in his Prioritizor as Glen had described his toodoo list typed into his weekly Mind

Changes time management sheet, just to the right of the

Software section below House, but he wasn’t sure what title to give Tina. Cohabiter, sounded stupid; Partner, in business wouldn’t stick, but “wife”, wasn’t quite right either- she’d said Yes first, then No, then Maybe. If. It had made him even more confused, the existence of any No draining the existence of whatever Yes, leaving him

Doubt.

One Flesh, wasn’t it meant to be wasn’t it? and the frantic grappling, the pushing and pulling in and out did seem to lessen the doubt he felt but only for a brief moment. Doubt.

Wouldn’t the Baby meant to kill that, forever? And it had happened sure enough though, first time impregnation, result, after’d he got the job, bing bang bong even though in a panic he’d tried to whip it out, as she called it before when the condom broke. It had happened first shot though, so it felt as if, he tried to persuade himself, it must be meant. O gawd.

She was getting heavier for sure, the king size bed now felt like a boat, lopsided, him about to be flung overboard, her full belly, she and the Baby, her life, outweighing his increasingly hi wire thin existence. He had hardly even seen her lately, getting back at 8 then 9 becoming 10, 11 o’clock and 12 since his evening had turned into a West Coast

1010010100101010110010100101001010010100

00100100100101000101010011 010000110011100100101

010101010101010… a huge software jelly just about to fall over, whatever that entailed. The list, too-doo tomorrow; like a mantra it had now developed a life of its own in his head:

Ring Lawyer/

Check server- Aziz

Get cheque - £2K for

Longleat- text in morning mustn’t be late

KOK advice JV

Estate Agents follow up

Make offer asap

Contract to Ingrid Coding

Insurance. Get More. Check.

Feeling frightened by the fragility the bits of his existence the list now evoked, he wondered if he could get anymore of her now but rolled over to snuggle up against the hot weight of Tina instead like a Silicon Alien grappling to get some sort of purchase on his own private globe. Oh god he sensed he had to get moving, get in to the office before anyone else, the American was arriving today, the mysterious Sky and he feared he’d arrive at work and everything would have changed, doors locked, lock down, hot zone contained.

3.50 am.

5 o’clock starts were executive norm, that’s what Glenn said look at Russ Thorax the founder, president and CEO of

International Business Systems Inc a role model for you and well known for scheduling his Time to the minute, structured but adaptable on a rolling KANDOO basis. Oh shit, more pain in his midriff, was it the big C the letter haunting him as he made ER contortions; shit, he needed a crap.

Cold Seat.

Pain in the midriff. Had he eaten today? Felt overhot.

Pushing. Was this like giving birth? Shitting Watermelons someone had said. God it hurts. Want to but can’t. Push.

Was it IBS, Irritable bowel? He’d read about it in last weeks

Sunday Times Mag, Life in the Day of, Razil Panir the

Eighties tycoon who’d been done for 500mil a few years back then run off to Cypress. Lots of fruit was the solution he’d said, stress wasn’t it, IBS. In the Head or the Ass it came out in his Therapist in Santa Monica had said. Did they all have it the dark suits, the transatlantic execs and politicians, always in a hurry rushing around the world supporting the latest PR puff. Push come on push. Arrrrghh

No… No nothing. Toby gave up and went back to bed. The sky was beginning to fade up to red. He heard birds beginning to sing. 4.13. Fuck it he had to get up in two hours and he knew his head, or his arse, wouldn’t let him sleep before then.

Back to front, front to back, was it dawn or dusk in this alien landscape, no downtown Towers but trees and a too narrow freeway that weirdly wasn’t straight. High up in the

Hilton Hyde Park spread out in a pink glow far beneath and

Sky, still on the West Coast time, with 12 hours having been added to his life, 4.30 back to front was now optimizing the use of that now by making a concall back to base. ‘These guys they already love it, I don’t see a

273 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 problem Clint’ he said in his Southern Californian fast-track drawl. ‘That’s great Sky, great you’re on top of your game man’ ‘The goal is clear, Mission Home come will be accomplished, operation relocate to the US, close down UK, then leverage the position on stock’. Sky for a moment, although the hotels smell of burnt plastic was familiar felt like Captain Kirk on USS Entrepreneurprize, hovering over an alien planet, Ingerlandt UK, they say there’s Users here ripe for exploitation Captain…

‘The deal is as we discussed at the last telecon Yes?’ a higher more anxious voice piped up in the blankness ‘Don, my man relax. Failure is not an option here buddy’. The telecom cavern, notionally located somewhere over the

Atlantic, echoed then went silent a faint hiss, waves shifting across unseen ocean below. Sky could allow the silence space as the WorldTel package was almost free but he couldn’t sustain it for more than a couple of beats.

‘Standing on the shoulder of Giants. Optimum initial take up. Reduce churn’ he flicked through his Xerox branded notebook reading the headlines in CAPS, ‘that’s the beauty of it, Donnie, this business model really does make sense’

‘Sky, I would not want to issue a negative statement on

274 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 this auspicious day, but armmm…’, ‘Come on Don’ (the guy was so frickin pedantic), ‘Well, are the current UK investors fully aware of the strategic direction we’re embarking on?

The sublimation Stateside? Are they fully supportative in the Plan?’ Oh shit, Don was getting all fundamentalist on him now wanting to play clean, Gods honest truth and all that and Sky hadn’t revealed anything to the Board of course but Jesus man if you’re a leader you gotta to imagine the possibility which other haven’t got the vision to comprehend, being a leader you gotta lead people into that higher realm come what may. ‘Jesus Don, believe me I’m telling you the Brits are completely committed to go into the US market, they are smart guys they understand the fluidity of capital flow, my Man at Bartone launched Heavy metal into the States for Christs Sake’. Sky hadn’t yet met

Barry but he felt like a buddy already, sort of equals, he too must have had the dream once … ‘Sky, please do not take the Lords name in vain’ ‘Sorry Don, I offer my apologies most sincerely’. Jesus H Christ what a fuck up, Sky ticked himself off severely. Don was Born Again, a fully paid up follower of Rapture 2000 .. the Kingdom of Heaven is nigh for his chosen people waiting for his Call upstairs and it was the cardinal rule never to contradict the CBS, Customer

Belief System, basic Corporation Sales Law, CSL key tenet

275 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 text. But, as Sky was the San Jose regions top photocopier salesman 1995 to 8, almost instinctually he immediately worked the mistake to his own advantage, using the diversion to augment the BSC (bond strength component) with Don and being a Master, bring in the close ….‘And

TAKE HEED to yourselves, lest at any time your hearts be overcharged with surfeiting, and drunkenness, …’ his voice rising slightly like a preacher.. and PRAY ALWAYS, that ye may be ACCOUNTED WORTHY to ESCAPE ALL THESE

THINGS that SHALL COME to pass, and to stand before the

Son of Man…. Rapture is soon apon us and this great time of wealth creation coming is part of getting ready to go, isn’t that right Donnie? The Millennium Boom, dotcom is for the chosen, right? And as we said before on 7/11 in LA,

HarpozoMall Inc. is committed to be an ethical Christian based organization right Don? And this mission statement right up front on the home page before the entrance to the online shops’ ‘Sure Sky, accepted. I forgive..’ Oh gee thanks you asshole Bush lovin’ fundamentalist jerk Sky thought but said ‘Don, you ready to sign the contract?’

‘Sure thing Sky’ ‘Great guys, lets go, lets go ride that wave eh, the surfs rising lets come in with the billion dollar tide’.

It was always good to end on an upbeat note, maintain the momentum, the play, exploit the day, let the vision have its

He suddenly felt empty. The constant sell suddenly without a source. A flicker terror trickled down his throat and he realized he had nothing to think about, staring at the shining mist outside the window; he might as well have been in BarAir Business class again. Come on jerk, us guys don’t fade and he popped another melatonin. Come on guy we’re supranational our time is our own, and we define the boundaries through which Capital can flow, that was our purpose really, to allow the energy, the Money, to extend itself ever further in its open-ended growth, it was almost spiritual really, ‘and its in this world sucker ’ Sky whispered to Donny without realising it. ‘Come in, Business’ and he went back to his screen to check where he was in his World now.

A syringe of Outlook Express filled with the contact that Sky needed and he felt him expand with desire and expectation.

Receiving 2-4-6 of 62 messages, and Sky felt his blood quicken. Broadcast.com. $33.45, he’d bought at 16, oh baby what a sweetie and the heat spread across his loins

Screen. It was better than catching a 10K at Waikiki, better than Cherise riding him high doing the thing with the ass he liked, and things were only going to getting better, he could feel it in his teeth. He backed off and licked the machismo sauce off the top of the cappuccino cream and there it was alleluia, a message from Highland Ross.

Eureka! This was it the one he’d be waiting for. He clicked quickly HYPERLINK "mailto:[email protected]" Sorry not to get back to you sooner, it’s as busy as hell. Happy to proceed with meet. Thanks for Investment inf, Harpozo interest tho will pass this round. Copiers do well. All best

High. Thank the Lord, he’d got it at last, this was the one.

The Big One, Starlink, the 3rd largest ISP in the US, was in the bag, almost anyway, enough to elaborate on and this mail would prove it, it’ll be his killer carrot for the Cabby

Board today, to OK the move to the States and Sky deleted meet then Thanks for, info , sounds interesting though will pass and finally Your copiers doing well and went to print his Killer Document, from the Screen still hot with his hard on at the prospect of the sell to come in 5 hours time.

Yeah, Sky told himself, staring at the little pile of copied email stacked on the smoked glass table, this demanded a celebration, of him and his success. What about a little pussy boy? Ross Thorax had whispered to him at the IBS awards ceremony where Sky had got his top supplier award and, courtesy of Ross and International Business Systems he’d also got a threesome as well as a bonus Airpass and

Buick. Thorax was a Great Guy, sighed Sky pity he’d got caught with the secretary and had to give half to his wife; then gee whizz he still had 1.3bil left. Whizz that’ll make a cool brand, whizz.com the fastest way to buy online and

Sky felt even more pleased with himself and got the card out Si had given him earlier, ‘a little treat from me and the lads’ scribbled on the back. Anything Goes - Yvonne, the

Streatham Domintrix it said. I wonder what Streatham is- sounds kinda whippy, thought Sky trying to translate the

Ingerleesh. It was 4.53 am but as Thorax had told him,

‘hey there’s nothing like a bit of ass before breakfast, my buddy Jack Kennedy always used to say’.

KANDOO TOODOO KANDOO TOODOO KANDOO TOODOO

MY NAME IS TICKLE ANF I AM A BIG MAN

I AM POWERFUL I AM RICH

BIG BALLS

ALL POWERFUL

Two hours later in the basement, Toby was whispering his

Mind Changes mantras while trying to get straight in his head the PowerPoint presentation for Freespace, his big play for redemption and a whole new life… C21st world created by C21st people to answer C21st needs- the initiative would combine the artificial intelligent techniques with rich media to produce deep profiling of individual members who they are within there virtual characters within the virtual reality which would not only facilitate global communication of like minded people but also subvert existing media structures by enabling the users to create there own content with built in 365 24/7 distribution thus to enable a new vision for the world to engage the millennium….He’d already sent the application for COMDEX, the Games and Electronics Festival in Vegas and he needed to get an OK soon for the Board if he didn’t want his lie to be found out there, and to maintain his believe in the possibility of change.

Janice came in at 8.15, all spick and span, new business suit, carrying the post. Her perfume hit Tobys nostrils, the quickstep clippetty clop of her heels on the marble lifting

Simon said you and Derek are going in on it after Sky the

Yank’s finished his whateveritis’ then she whispered. ‘I hope it doesn’t mean we’re getting the sack, I don’t fancy being a black widow again just yet. Better have a chat with the staff; they’re all shitting their bricks about redundancy’.

‘I’m pitching ferr Money today matey’ Derek then blew in all excited. ‘How much?’ ‘420 thou’, ‘Great’ said Tickle wondering what it was for since they hadn’t even got a fucking product to market yet. Fucker, Toby thought. This cunt might get the money for Freespace, the twat? Toby was meant to be number two, wasn’t he then this shithead barges in front of him in the queue. And where the fuck was

Longleat, the poncy git? He needed to get the guy primed so he doesn’t blow the whole deal. Shit he needed a fag too.

The staff was all there again down in the Well, a shaft in the exercise yard presumably to give the kitchen staff in the old days some where to breath even it also served as the main drain. Tickle always knew if his staff was working because he could see smoke rising form the hole when they

281 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 weren’t. ‘Alright?’ Toby asked them, the four blokes lining the wall, all matey ‘What’s happening?’ Strike demanded to know closing off Tickles exit at the doorway, ‘this Board meeting?’ ‘Going through the budget’ ‘More cuts?’ asked

Janice who’d come in behind him. ‘No, No’ urged Toby. ‘It’s about new Strategic direction doing something really good,

Freespace, ‘Oh Christ. Not another fucking direction, Tickle they wont do that the VNC thing, its way over their heads, where the money now’ said Strike. ‘What’s this American?’ asked Toby to Janice trying to change the subject, then regretted it because he wasn’t in the exec exec loop ‘Simon and Chris went the earlier in the year, an exploratory trip they called it... you should have seen the expenses, only 5 star for them there’ said Janice. ‘Could have paid for another two programmers for a year? said Strike ‘ But who’s Sky’ asked Toby again trying to shift away the subject from the twins, ‘Some so called guru they said, top

Net exec’, sniffed Strike, ‘From Blessed Vale, it’s a horrible place, but not far from San Cupertino, home of Netscape eh and Amazon’ ‘Oooh’ said Janice, voicing the awe the names bought to them all ‘All yanks are full of shit’ Toby said and they all laughed, but he wasn’t sure if they laughed as if agreeing or only because he was supposed to be their boss?

A noise came from above and they all looked up at the

Simons head came over the balustrade. ‘Alright there

Bosun?’ ‘Fine’ Tickle replied ‘Everything’s hunky dory’ but his neck hurt looking upwards, his shirt collar rubbing the sore Heinrich razor had made in Vienna, but he said all smiley, ‘Id better get to work sharp’.

At his desk Toby went through Strikes report which he’d agreed to reads to the board in return for Shrike supporting the Freespace plan,’ You cant build it in sand’ was all his key programmer had said about that. : Documentation,

Stabilize the product, Testing Product Release Cycle, the errors in the software were going to get worse, implode the report said said, if it wasn’t sorted first. ‘It’s like building a house, not making soup’ , you cant keep adding bits of code to make the thing work, patches the geek language called them, dotted like war zones across a map, trying to keep the software jelly upright, the original Plan intact. And it was no good throwing more resources at it the report said, if you read the Mythical Man Month once the Plan goes wrong it just goes wrong more, even more the more people you deploy, like fishing line tangled, better to cut it, give up

283 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 and start again. O Gawd, Tobys forehead tightened with the metaphors- the fact was he didn’t know what the fuck software was except something to do with 01 the secret code that ran everything.01, 11,01, what happened to the third.. the father, the son, and the holy ghost, it’s missing the 3rd thing, the Other that what Shrike had told him when they had talked about AI, ‘you’ll never have a human computer because they can’t think outside the box’.

‘All is one and one is me. Lovely day and I am lovely. The world is one I am one with the world’ Longleat was making his way down Malthorpe Street towards Cabbie Inc. He had his white suit on and catching a glimpse of himself in the health food shop window he thought there was a revelatory quality there, Little Richard in preacher mode, he only wished he could be a bit more lithe. ‘No, I am lovely it’s a lovely day’ he insisted ‘Let it pass, make a friend of the anger then say goodbye’, as Quok Shin Kak had said

‘become an empty vessel in balance with the world – mindfulness is not a notion but a path’. But fuck, Longleat squirmed, I wish the world would wake up to who I am soon, he was getting tired of waiting for the larger revelation to occur. It was difficult to be so isolated in ones

284 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 own brilliance, struggling with that higher vision seeing the future so clearly, lonely in having an understanding no one else grasped. Cabbie: takes you way you want to go, what a crap name, and even Freespace was a bit old hat, the visionary sighed. No, it was his magnanimity, sharing his vision with those of lesser understanding and in doing so he trusted he would get something back. It was his mission on earth, after all, he told himself. Now, beyond Disney,

Longleat was moving toward a new idea of himself. The time spent alone with his computer, struggling to keep up the multiple balls of his creative life, the music, the performance, art pieces and videogames, without any structure to work within, had resulted in Longleat turning away from his previous calling to create a multinational media conglomerate and towards the idea of being a

Cyborg, a one man media machine broadcasting 24/7 365, so his thoughts, talks, visions, his very mind was going to be spread across the world a new gospel of one unified religion the technology enabling him to do, to be so, in essence, entirely digital and this beyond death, for Flesh to be superceded by Spirit, then conveyed electronically for now and everywhere for all time, is and will be world without end. Longleat, was he knew know the first in the

New Being.

Suddenly exhausted by the weight of his own destiny,

Longleat decided to sit outside a café and leafed through the script for todays meeting with the Money people at

Cabby inc. Freespace powered by Longleat TV: a new

Entertainment Channel for the Digital Age, an orgasmic plethora of internet based individuals utilizing interactive technology to create a user based spiritualized world determined by a direct relation to the mental, emotional and spiritual states reincarnated in code, a vast web of psychic energy linking Amazonian Indians through to Monks on Mount Athos and all disciples in-between meeting in the one and only nexus the Cy…. He noticed how delicate his fingers were on the paper, the way they tapered rather than being blunt like most males and wondered if this was a sign of his manifold sexuality or a physical manifestation of being the first in the line of this higher human strain. He looked up into this world again his vision being drawn across the road down one of the slightly run down streets, odd shops beneath once posh homes and Longleat saw a fat man rush out from a doorway and stand briefly, rotund with a pointy beard black against the burning smog. The

286 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 silhouette looked almost Elf like, Father Christmas with a quaff; then, tucking in his shirt in, the gnomic apparition stepped into a limo sliding up to the kerb. That’s my car thought Longleat and again felt awkwardly aggrieved.

Inside the stretched Bentley, Santas hand thrust down inside the front of pinstripe trousers to tuck in the tails of his new Pink Egyptian cotton shirt. In his hurried dressing he had got all twisted up in braces and boxers shorts, a bit of a wedgie in fact and ‘Fuck’, he’d forgotten to get the receipt off the Anneshka bird. He’d have his secretary get it later. ESM: Executive stress management he’d call it, that’s how it would be accounted for in Expenses, he chortled to himself. Santa Moores big red face beamed as he looked through the tinted glass at the alcoholic wrapped in a sleeping bag, head bowed in a doorway and he knew his spirits at least would be on high today as he purred eastwards to the City and another triumph. ‘Tough shit matey’, he whispered as the casualty outside. Yep, another day, another deal. It was a big day, the end of the beginning with the listing of Golden Infinity on the Stock

Exchange well, APEX the smaller market, but it was a start, then the celebratory doo with Morton Thomas tonight ,a

Cabby later and to work on the Barry bloke about carrying it over into a stake in Infinity for the big NASDAQ LSE play, and yes, the road in front was shining ever brighter laid out for Santas ascendance, barrow boy to big swinging Dick.

What was it called, not Wall st, greed and all that, the one with Tom Hanks, but Santa had been in the movie before it was made he thought grinning to himself as he pushed his hand down again inside his trousers this time to check the slightly sore point just beneath his swollen tum tum belly.

-----

15.

…. Here, to repeat, the basic fact of the twenty first

century- a corporate system based on unrestrained self

interest.

John Kenneth Galbraith The Economics of Innocent Fraud

‘A billion dollar company and no less…and hey you guys if you look at Broadcast.com, and the 250% gain achieved on their first day trading that too was linked to an ISP deal,

Starlink also and this paper I hold now and….’ it was Sky in full preacher mode black polo-neck and slacks with a shiny alligator belt, holding up the print-out of the doctored email from Highland in front of the Cabby Board, 7 men, 1 woman and Kieran O Keirtly sending his apologies for his absence again traveling abroad. ‘…and this shows, subject to contract and appropriate due diligence, that given your approval of the Plan lying down before you today, that we too can indeed Stand On The Shoulders Of Giants and launch ourselves on this great wave of Millennium opportunity, ride out t’ward a billion dollar IPO and yes it could be you too making a many manifold return on your

289 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 original investment in Cabby Incorporated or should I say not too soon I hope, HarpozoMall Inc.’ he smiled and the hot days sunlight broke through the bars of the blinds and hit Skys bleached teeth with a twinkle, Ding, Ring of…And

Tickle was by the doorway outside straining to hear what was going on inside the boardroom, in the ensuing silence the dark suits waiting for what the Preacher was going to say next, having been barely able to make out the words in that high-pitched southern Californian whine . ‘Yup it’s going be a billion dollar company before next fall’ Sky pronounced, as if it was already ordained to the array of open faces below him open mouthed all wanting it so badly to be true. Behind him on the whiteboard were lines of red green and blue, the red one dotted, starting below the others then shooting upwards, exponential growth scribbled alongside the ascendant curve, tipped off with a big fat head in red. ‘I say again, with the current market flow trajectory and projection correct, a go to market could be, I mean will be, within the six quarters and through into the

Millennium with conditions enhanced’, and here he drew two Towers much higher than the other blocks on the bar chart, ‘in 2000 and 2001 the result will be at least a 500% uplift in stock price post 21st century and ten billion by 2007

Sky then let silence fall. A jet passed over, another coming soon behind, the dual engine thrusts breaking into the low rumble then a whine urgently straining, echoed and magnified as if it was about to crash. ‘Gentlemen, and

Lady’ he said with a flash of plated incisors at Lizzie, the big

Bartone chick, throwing in a wink at Brutus her skinny sidekick ‘it’s your stock we’re talking about and this is the

Day you can make it happen... Carpe Diem gentlemen,

Seize the Day today and approve the move to the States, approve the additional investment as outlined in the Plan, and my friends I strongly urge us to ride the surge and go with the Wave in a new universally munificent way’ And then he sat down, as if to savour the lingering heaviness of anonymous chemicals, sweet spreading in the hot and clammy air. Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep…A phone went off loudly, shattering the expectancy of the silence, Brutus quickly peeling off into the corner of the room to talk. Sky’s eyes followed him; that guy was going to be difficult, No 2 to Eliza at Bartone Corp Dev he’d obviously got his own agenda, other Internet investments and Sky better put him on amber alert watch. ‘It’s Chuck’

Brutus said to Eliza only ‘Hey, whenaa you guys coming over to do due diligence?’ the Seattle drawl came through on the phone as if it was next door. ‘Soon’ whispered

Brutus, ‘Soon, soon, look I’m in a meeting, can I call you back in 5’. ‘If you’re in a meeting turn the fucking thing off’ muttered Simon, sitting puce red with excitement, annoyed at being disturbed in his wallowing inside Beth with a new head and the picture Sky had painted, him pushing her hard against the jet stream of the Bel Air pools filter, her screams lost in the waters frothing, dollars floating everywhere in the air… ‘It’s going to be great- the Stateside move is essential’, Simon suddenly shouted out, urging the older faces around the table to focus on concluding the deal with Sky. ‘Great for the shareholders, great for the stock, we’ve got to approve it and we have got to approve it now’ he tried to look serious as his hand instinctively moved to hold his still sore cock.

‘Yeah , take the guy out, bury the fucker alive, and don’t forget to pull out his teeth out first’ Chris was playing a ranting Joe Pesci Goodfella reeling around in his head acting out what he’d like to do to that toffy nosed git Brutus but only snarling, slumped in the chair biting the ends of his

292 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 blunted fingertips. Motherfuckers, it was obvious America was the great hope, it was where it was at, the real Money, the Power and Chris had a heap of meets lined up in the

States, piled up from sleepless weeks of emailing through the night and it was the beginning of a billion dollar company with Chris Froth twenty first century global CEO at it head. Yeas, that was the real picture, then he’d tell that little fucker Brutus where he could shove his frikking phone.

‘Please Darling be gentle with me Please darling, they would love it they really would, the kids haven’t seen you for three weeks now’. Chris blushed as he remembered the pleading endearment he’d last night from Sandra, the

Bitch- Wife. Why did he put up with it? It was an arrangement about to end although the saggy titted Mum didn’t know it yet. Carlita his Brazilian bimbo was happy and if she wasn’t there was the Iti gagging for it in Tooting.

Marriage was too constraining for someone as fertile and creative as himself. OK he’d got kids for added gravitas to his CV but now it was time to move on. Force is the first

Management law. EXECUTION IS TOTAL and smiling now at

Skys PowerPoint he saw his Personal Development time sheet stuck up there on the wall in his Letchworth den. This little deal was just step 3 then there will be Omnifroth Inc founded under the red vertical, EXIT, Cabby sold on the

293 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 graph was a little green star for DIVORCE when he had the caboodle to make it painless economically speaking of course. Goodbye Letchworth, parochial backwater, hello

World going global; LA, San Fran, Frankfurt, New York, for the International Killer Exec, the universe was his home.

Come on. Come on, hurry you twats and with only a couple of hours sleep what with all his west coast calls Chris closed his eyes and couldn’t help himself sink back into his

FAVORITES as the Board waited for Brutus to finish his call.

Virgin, Ebony Magic, Hardcore, Amateur, Big Dicks Chris clicked, another window in his mind downloading, first the hair, then eyes all expectant, then the Mouth, the Tongue out and then Cock, big and black a 12in glory and Chris felt himself harden, projecting himself into the magnificent manhood and before him Patsy, his rod right up into her ass. Oh Yes he was there Beauty and the Beast remembering how he ha began to give himself relief as all top Execs needed to do, him Chris Froth President and CEO,

Homes in Boca Raton, Kensington and Telluride, Hobbies, gold, cinema, master, Chris Froth, New Media Leader the key visionary, the great seer, Chris Froth, Alexander of the

Net unstoppable, all powerful all conquering becoming bigger and bigger, expanding, a star, a comet across the brilliant capitalist sky, Chris Froth, pushing himself deeper

America here we come, he kandoo it he could, you kandoo it, yes I can do it, I can yes I can yes now. He felt his stretched foreskin twitch again the cotton twill and opening one pig eye Chris VP of Product development noticed a little stain begin to expand below his zip

‘I can yes I can yes now… Sure, Seattle in two weeks, We’ll get the legals together, Yeah yup Cho’ Brutus snapped the

Motorola shut and came back to the table. He gave

Elizabeth a meaningful look, ‘All fine. Sorry chaps , more

Bartone interests to take care off ‘ his Etonian supplanting the mockney ‘ Barry wants this wrapped up soon’ thus indicating to all at the meeting that it needed to remember that Cabby was just a marginal investment in the larger portfolio of Bartones wealth so they’d all better treat him and Eliza with the respect due. Yeah fuck You . Men carry on. He said and wanting to frighten them all with one of his

ArrrrUrrrr Ooohh AARRR the red Indian pastiche they used at the Men Warrior Group last week end Him walking naked by the camp fire as the other naked around him made themselves go Corr. It was a bit like going back to Public

School. Wild Tiger with big balls was his New Warrior title and My mission is to be rich and powerful, at the forefront of the digital media revolution reflecting my glory…er.. giving back value to the world’. He had tacked the last bit on at the Initiation Ceremony to keep in with the right on group of New Age men The New Warrior Training Adventure is a process of initiation and self-examination that is crucial to the development of a healthy and mature male self. It is the "hero's journey…In fact he’d got a bit of attitude off the

Organic types for even mentioning money but the ex

Marine American oil trader taking the workshop knew where he was at. OOArr yes he was bigger since he’d went he thought stroked the vein at the back of his dick.

Oh no, all of a sudden, seeing the vicious eyes of the Froths staring at him now, Brutus felt himself shrivel. It was true at least they had their own company, were at the edge being entrepreneurial at the front. Oh Gawd.. Had he sold out? A little apprentice to the big boss, lapdog for the

Duchess and at 30 he hadn’t even got ownership of anything, only a still to graduate Exec MBA, when he should have sold his first if not second business by now..

‘Numbers my boy, don’t forget the numbers’, that’s what

Grandpa Louis, always said. Louis Linkowski,

Shopowner, founder of the first discount store empire, how could Brutus prove himself to him. ‘How is your business going my boy? Numbers my boy, don’t forget the numbers’

‘Yes Grampy, my business is going great guns’ and Brutus had lied the last time they saw each other, just before the accident, the old man falling off the bed trying to copulate with the Australian nurse. 105 and still at it, wasn’t bad but then he went and left her the house and the pictures to the bitch, dirty old man, selfish git. Well, the lawyers will sort that out, Money always wins in the end at least Brutus knew that.

No he had his Plan, for Grampy, the Warrior with the Tiger

Balls was going to get Bartone to dump the Woman, Eliza, so he could build his business, on the shoulder of giants

Fanatics.com, do a massive IPO then reverse take over of whole Bartone company so there. Feeling better Brutus finally from his speculation here relaxed back into the chair re-arranging his boxers to allow some air preparing to enjoy himself in watching Eliza put these non- Men in their place First he picked up his Palm Pilot to insert some notes on is list. 1. Instigate Fan PR strat 2. Big Barry meet lunch re Lizzie. 3. Boys destroy ref Liz 4. Inseminate S Buy zinc.

His groin, as if responding to the heavy metal weight in his

‘Lovely Sky, absolutely terrific,’ said Elizabeth suddenly as if to jolt the boys out of their fantastical reverie. ‘It looks wonderful on paper, but perhaps we could, for a moment, address the operational side of things,’ she purred, ‘the now rather than the future’. She knew her voice was slightly flatter than normal, but she had to reinforce the fact that as the senior financier she was always looking at the bottom line, the worst case scenario, and, fucking hell she was getting really bored, sitting here on yet another Board of silly men getting so excited over Money, bored listening to pitches from sooped up second rate salesmen like Sky and bored of the glazed looks of these minor players thinking about the dosh, as if it was a mystery the answers to which would only be conjured up if they stared long enough at the pretty Powerpoint charts on the wall. Didn’t they, these little men, realise that all this had been sorted out some years before, up in the mirrored Towers and Gulfstreams; didn’t they realize that the City had already decided what was going to happen because the Street had already decided and really it was just a case of going through the

Accounts and Legals and the Press. Silly men and their balls to play with, and she had to look after six kids and a banker bloke.

Elizabeth winced; the Baby was doing something under her pashmina. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Barry her boss and certainly not this lot; they’d freeze up, the zigzagging of their frontal lobes unable to compute Nature happening here amongst them, live, this bunch of bemused monkeys in their M&S undies carrying mobile and Palms simply wouldn’t be able to cope. Cabby, takes you where you want to go, Surfing the wave, Simon says; I mean really, complete tosh.

‘Its all set up Lizzie’, smiled Sky, (God she hated been called Lizzie), ‘We’ve got the team in place, Clint and Don are arriving later today to do due diligence, to take over even, if you so wish’ Sky lowered his voice ‘Obviously the

Starlink contract is contingent on HQ being in the US of A... and I need to get back to High before close of play. We got office accommodation ready to go in Blessedvale, Clint’s gotta a top Valley technical team in place and Donnies all

Win Win Win situation for everyone, eh so lets Lock and

Load and get ready to Rock and Roll?’ said Sky ‘ Lets surf that wave guys’ flashing his sunshine smile, Simon and

Chris panting by his side. ‘Blessedvale you say’ Oh no, it was Garthside, the techie VC, KOKs hatchet man and everyone sighed. ‘We have another company there, they do semi conductor system diagnostics,’ he whined nasal and analytical. All heads dropped; he was going to talk about software, the stuff they were actually meant to be making but none of them knew what it was. ‘Their architecture has exceptional code density through a proprietary technique they’ve got for speeding up the Java language execution’

Garthside spluttered on and Simon let his tongue loll out of his mouth eyes rolling, a little joke to his mate Keith who, as usual lizard like, hadn’t said a word throughout the meet. Keith noticed that Simons tongue was very white but smiled his chirpy smirk anyway, focusing on keeping everything sweet. ‘You see, the ultra lean core allows

25,000 gates to be used,’ Garthside continued ‘a tiny memory comparatively, which, if we employed it with the

Cabby code could position it as a multi user device…’. The room had almost emptied of its previous excitement as the

300 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 moneyed egos retracted into their ignorance, fighting to appear engaged; after all they were meant to be experts in the hi-tech category, but they couldn’t help fidgeting, like dirty boys completely deaf to algebra in the doldrums of pre-lunch maths.

‘That’s great Garthside, your understanding of the underlying technical issues and potential roadmap ahead is invaluable,’ Sky stepped in before the place went flat and the deal was closed ‘Indeed’ said Garthside, ‘ the wireless factor should..’ but Sky cut him off sharp ‘Believe me, the guys I’ve got lined up, flying in as we speak, are going to accelerate the product development exponentially, and..’ looking up, seeing the relief spread around the table the boys gratefully rescued from Garthsides techno-babbling,

Sky spotted the opportunity to move in for the kill. ‘Which kinda neatly brings us to the next item, the key item on the agenda- Reallocation of Resources’, and the dark suits all sat up, reanimated, pens coming out poised as knives above their spreadsheet. ‘We gotta downsize the UK to facilitate the growth in the US’. This was something they could all understand and, secretly, always enjoyed.

Restructuring, sacking that is; it made them feel powerful, it made them feel they were doing something useful again.

‘So what is left in the UK?’ asked Garthside, half and hour later the Board having sacked three quarters of the staff

(half having gone in the purge 3 months before), ‘Couple of content guys, bookeeper and marketing coordinator, low overhead high coverage’ said Sky, exhausted now but beaming feeling the sun drying salt on his ginger-haired chest, the deal looked as if it was done, ‘The same with all our global properties outside the States’ ‘Get rid of Derek for starters’ blurted Simon with a venom that made the other surgeons turn their heads ‘He’s exceeded budget’ intoned Chris and everyone turned back to their pads, putting a tick or a cross by the name. ‘Tickle should join him’ said Chris, ‘Doubling up’ chipped in Sky, ‘Clint can handle operations in the States’ ‘But there should be a decent handover period to avoid prod dev interruption’ said

Garthside. ‘Don’t want any hiccups in the software’

‘Certainly’, the others agreed and Sky didn’t want to stop the flow ‘No worries, - lets bed it and then when surplus to requirement and European localization in place, we’ll let that guy go too’. ‘Strikes the key’ Sky insisted, ‘we need

302 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 him in California, from the word go’ Simon was obviously enjoying this, a sort of Simon says Extreme too vicious for broadcast or maybe not: he should talk to Jules at Terminal

TV once he’d got fucking Cabby off his back. Hey ho soon it will be the US of A, IPO, Exit and away from all this shit.

‘What about Janice?’ Chris said fancying something younger and female to abuse, ‘No we can’t have that; Janice stays put’, it was Keith clicking into action, surprisingly firm. He needed to keep tabs on the Money, and although he’d never tell them, he knew it was always the woman in the back office who actually ran the show even if she didn’t know it herself. ‘Fine that can wait’, Sky needed Keith onside, ‘and the others?’ ‘Who’s that then?’ said Keith,

‘Didn’t realise we had any others’, and they all laughed.

‘Sack ‘em all’ Brutus chipped as if to get going a Warrior type chant, ‘Sack ‘em all Sack ‘em all’ they said a couple of times then all laughed, partly at the ridiculousness of dismissing people so easily, their power at being able to so easily utterly change others lives and partly at the hidden relief that they were all feeling at being on the right side of the tracks. ‘ Sack ‘em all Sack ‘em al..l’

‘Yes yes jolly good but... .’ it Elizabeth piping up above the rabble of the boys again trying to get them to settle down again ‘What about valuation, we need to know about numbers, users and we need to know the product schedule- how soon can we get the thing out in the States? ’ Simon was in quick, ‘the system reads that we are up to 121000 registered users, which with reach is half a million’. Keith couldn’t stop himself gulping but Elizabeth’s piggy eyes didn’t blink, ‘In regard to product release?’ and Chris put on his deepest voice (the one he’d been practicing in front of the mirror in the car) ‘As you know Tickle is responsible for the production now but we’re looking at a September ‘98 release in order to catch the Christmas season for the online shopping take off, with launch date in the US no later than 5th Oct’. He plucked the dates out of the air and only a polygraph could monitor the slight hiccup in his voice.

Elizabeth soft features remained blank; she’d had been lied to by much bigger and better Liars than these two little shits. ‘Then get me this Tickle, the Production Man’ she suddenly said and Brutus sniggered, she’ll put the little fuckers in their place now and he gave Keith a sharp prod in his ribs. Keith went out to get Toby, slightly annoyed that they’d have to depend on somebody else which meant another person to be paid off later on. Toby hearing this

Outside Keith saw the cloud of smoke coming up from the

Well, like cartoon Indian signals and rather than having the additional stress of being forced to tick them off, he went downstairs and called for Tickle from the doorway by the broken toilet. A surprised black face suddenly loomed around the frame of the Wells doorway smiling. Keith was taken aback, stunned. For a moment he couldn’t compute.

It was a Lionel Ritchie look-alike, smiling and confident somehow threatening as he came waltzing over towards

Keith in a white suit. ‘Hi I’m Longleat, I believe Ill be presenting my report to the Board soon but the swine, so to speak, better be quick in order to catch my pearls because

I’m off to conduct a meditation retreat before lunch’. The guy was smiling all friendly, talking like a fucking nob, all posh and Keith was confused, feeling that tension in his chest again. Oh Gawd, where was Helen when he needed her. Your world is what you make it she’d have said and

Keith decided to just blank it , this ghoul but he couldn’t stop the tension in his voice as he shouted out ‘Tickle quick, you’re wanted now’.

Toby’s white face emerged behind Keith shoulder, looking very worried. Was it time for his sacking, more of the restructuring that he hadn’t quite heard redundancy even before he’d had a chance to play his Freespace card? Serve the fucker right thought Keith seeing Tickles weak face.

Who the fuck does he think he is commissioning supposed reports from Soul singer lookalikes? and Toby chased after the little man waddling into the boardroom, leaving

Longleat abandoned in the doorway, his suit cut in half by the Wells shaft of light.

As Keith and Tickle walked into the Boardroom Simon made for the door, ‘Need a Slash’ but as he was going out he whispered quickly into Tobys ear ‘500K users OK- that’s what’s we’ve got right- say it or we’re all fucked, including you, right’. Toby went all wobbly standing there taking in the scene very quickly; the graph, Sky worryingly omnipotent at the head of the table, shit no KOK his supporter only Elizabeth giving him a welcoming smile above the flat faces of the Suits. Why did he feel like a little boy, worried that he wasn’t wearing a tie? Why did he have butterflies in his stomach? Oh no, because he was, he was

306 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 doing someone else’s talking, it was time to lie. It was the same old choice he’d had from the start, to lie or not to lie, to tell the truth, to say what he thought, or to fudge, deviate, escape, procrastinate, accept the shit part that he hated…To be or not to be that is the question, whether tis nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and to take arms against a sea of trouble and by opposing end them...Shit…His integrity, the Freespace Plan, redemption; the Truth he couldn’t afford not to now and anyway he had forgotten what being honest was.

‘Ah Tickle’ said Elizabeth, they’d never been introduced ‘I enjoyed Scratch, no I mean Shame, that was it. Das ist richtig yah Zehr Goomurklick. A friend of mine had a percentage I believe he did rather well out of it’ she smiled

‘Yeah better than you did it appears’ sneered Brutus at

Toby. ‘Shhhh Bruty’ Eliza ticking her boy off ‘Right. Toby isn’t it? A couple of questions for you regarding usage’...

‘How many users do we currently have, for a start’

Elizabeth asked.

There was a silence, another plane going over, this time very close the window frames rattling; Chris, Simon and

Keith were staring at him intently.

Go on, Lie, go on lie and lie well.

Toby knew about he had to and he knew it was serious; the

Money was listening and the Money would make him accountable, strike back if hurt.

Go on, Lie, go on lie and lie well.

He had to or there would be no Freespace, no house, no

Baby, no wife, no life.

Go on, Lie, go on lie and lie well.

‘Errm, given churn and including reach, 487438, I believe is the latest stats, err..we are approaching the half million mark for sure’, he blurted out and he knew then that they all knew that he was lying and he knew they wouldn’t forget that he was.

A big sigh went around the room and they all seemed to relax, smiling. The story was corroborated and someone else had told the lie and Tickle was the one who was going to be accountable for it. He’d kept the story afloat and all

308 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 was well they were still in the game in these last days before the millennium in the game all the fantasy had become believable, the lies in fact had become the truth.

‘And the release date?’ said Brutus, now the only one around the table looking cross, ‘September, Christmas?’

‘Just in time for the shopping season hey Tickle’ prompted

Sky. Cunt, thought Toby he’s persuaded them to do the shopping thing. Shit. There goes Freespace and any idea of being anything vaguely interesting, entertaining, of value anything but an IT MONEY thing and him becoming an online shopping geek without a slice of the cake. ‘Yeah, we’ll be ready, at the till’ he said trying to crack a joke and sound enthusiastic. ‘OK’ said Chris, ‘that’ll be all, thank you’ the young Mel Gibson said dismissing the has-been sergeant. And Tickle made for the exit, back to his platoon, feeling a lot smaller and balder then when he had gone in five minutes ago.

Outside Toby thought he was going to faint; he took a deep breath. Whatever the software for the reconstruction of ego was, it was processing overtime now. He’d lied, set himself up as the fall guy, and lost put in his plan to get a bit of the

309 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 action. Shit, he had sold out, and for nought. He leant onto the wall and noticed he had sweat running down his spine, then the door opened from inside. It was Keith. ‘Well done mate’ he said winking, ‘You’re alright. We are back on track’ he said slapping Tickle on his wet back. ‘Look, can you just sign this it’s just a minute sheet of the meeting, what’s been said, a record like’ said Keith urgently ‘Quick, please,

I’ve got to go up to Totteridge, bit of a golf do, potential investors there, so be a good chap and sign it here now.

Verifying user numbers, stats, forecast etc, technical stuff we’ll need it for due diligence later on ’. Tickle signed and he knew. ‘Great well done’ said Keith almost paternal.

‘Don’t worry mate, its business, its all about being economical with the truth, innit,’ he said laughing, ‘it’s how the Business works. And look we’ll get Freespace on the

Agenda’ he said enthusiastically although Toby knew he was lying. ‘itcouldbeyou itcouldbeyou eh and Tickle,’ Keith’s hand squeezing his nape, ‘be a good chappy and loose the coon will you’ ‘Err…Sure’ said Toby suppressing the impulse to object and went to tell Longleat he’d better fuck off now or he wouldn’t get any of the report money at all and as he walked towards the stairs he heard a burst of laughter coming from behind him in the boardroom and again thought he heard his name being called. O gawd

16.

How fortunate for leaders that men do not think.

- Adolf Hitler

Oh my God Oh My God O my God have mercy on me have mercy on me have mercy on me’ the woman was rocking back and forward all twisted up crying into the ends of her scarf. Despite the hot thundery day inside the office it was cold; in the basement it never seemed to warm up and although it was crossing over the Client Counsellor boundaries prescribed, Tina couldn’t resist the urge to go over and give the poor woman a hug. ‘It’s alright. It’s alright It’s...Everything will be O.K Anneshka believe me.’

What else could she say? … What could she say? The womans Husband, Mother, Father, Aunt Uncle, Cousin

Cousin, Child all wiped up, just like that, yesterday, at a marriage, a celebration, now gone. They who had just been living, shopping, gardening, talking over the wall to a nieghbour, now gone, just like that, a wrong bomb from an

F14 its video game brain being maladjusted and here was

Anieshka sitting in front of her 1000 miles away from her

Lifes carnage, rocking back and forward unable to cope.

‘Oh my God Oh My God O my God have mercy on me have mercy on me have mercy on me’’ the Serbian women had been here for a year, with a PHD in Psychology from

Belgrade University but ending up massaging City blokes, and who could blame her having only got 4.50, a pittance for cleaning toilets and it was all for her family back home and now she was sitting here trying to get some help from

The North London Off Shoot Centre for Refugees.

Underfunded the Centre was an offshoot of another organization; Fresh Start for Single Mums which in turn was an off shoot of ADURA, Assured Delivery Urban

Regeneration Agency, set up for EU designated deprived inner city areas. Tina was working there one day a week for a counseling course placement, just listening to them, the trail of the underneath people who had no where else to go to. There was little she could do except listen; give them leaflets, point them in the right direction, but really it was just there, to just listen. Did anybody else? They were quite difficult to understand and there were some who could only express themselves in their own language and Tina just sat

But despite herself Anieshka had turned into a sort a friend and now with the death, even in an alien war, it made Tina frightened. She could feel herself shrivel up inside herself, wanting to protect the Baby there, away from the horrible aggressive, nasty world outside. It wasn’t fair. Why should it be like this? Tina asked, she always had, from the start, since she was a child, hating it, the fighting, the guns. Ban the fucking things. Fucking men. Why did they have to; it was either yes or no, don’t they see War doesn’t fucking work? 'Oh dear come on lets have a cup of tea’ said Tina and the woman’s white face, eyes red rimmed and wet with the endless crying made her feel drained. It was difficult enough keeping positive at home, there with Tobys mood changes, overworked, tired and angry, as if on jet lag all the time coming down severely at the end of the week, all those repressed feelings coming out, projection and transference as the book said, taking it out on her the fact that they kept mucking him around at the Office, treating him like a prat, leaving him constantly on edge not knowing if he was going to be sacked or not.

The grind of Camden high street was carrying on outside and Tina went over to close the window. The sky had become heavy dark with the threat of thunder and she couldn’t resist the urge to smoke. She shouldn’t but the sadness she felt, the heart ache, the growing fear about the

Baby made her want to melt. She lit up trying not to inhale.

Just a puff. Why couldn’t she share her worries with Toby?

He didn’t seem to hear her, anything anymore, just head down with the job. Was it really worth it? The Money. Did it have to be so extreme? Chasing the Windfall, going crazy running after the pot. It made her more afraid the more he became lost in it, which he seemed to be the more she retreated into herself. But there was no answer, no way out now with the Baby, or so it felt. The smoke of her Silk Cut,

(she only had one in an emergency like now and she didn’t inhale), mingled with the fumes and the humid hot smog and a seagull cried out somewhere above her as if it too was seeking help.

Did it have to be like this?

Real

Was this it?

The truth

Life?

‘Tickle, Toby, Tickle here is right behind the move and hey you guys, have you seen the extra extra ordinary values of the stock of Amazon, the Street, Broadcast.com the markets doubled in less than a week and’, back at the office two hours later Sky was preaching again a suitable thunder clap bursting out overhead, trying to enthuse the Cabby staff now gathered around him sullenly, only really wanting to find out of they’d been sacked. His proven sermon on wave surfing and the riches to come didn’t seem to be working ‘…and the States can witness to the explosive growth, as in the value of eBay, 241% climb on less than a week since IPO and you guys too can be part of that dream, you too can be part of this Millennium gold rush, if we work as one big team we can make Cabbie 3 the leader, the new

AOL, at the forefront of the ecommerce revolution in the US and in the UK and the whole globe known to civilized man’ and he looked around the room expecting a chorus of sunshine smiles, cheers, even a whoop and whistle high five style, but this Brit mob just looked grave, there was no

‘Hey you guys, Golden Infinity,’ Sky tried again, the co branding deal Si struck last week, their stock just has launched gone IPO and its expanded 5 fold today’ ‘Yeah, you lot the big wave has just started here’ chirped in Toby, feeling like Judas but trying to look similarly excited as Sky but the staff remained non-plussed, flat faced, only a few smirks and the odd snarl. OK, Tickle decided he had to lie to them again just to get rid of the gnawing feeling in his gut. ‘Look this office is going to be worldwide HQ for all territorities outside the States, all your jobs are safe, believe me you’ll be the last to go mates’ and a few faces became more open, chins lifted, Toby was OK wasn’t he, he smoked with us at least some thought.‘‘Believe me guys, the code has to be on the West coast,’ Sky came in ‘the investors expect it, but we’ll keep the production here.

Believe me you guys are secure, we need you and believe me when this thing kicks off we’re soon going to have to quadruple the staff numbers’ he proclaimed gaining confidence in his shpeel again ‘Yeah we’re going to see the great Barry of Bartone tonight, to it get all Oked.

Loadsofmoney right?’ Toby feeling like a warm up guy on some shit shows of Simon then reverting to the sure fire hit

‘but first lets be British and fuck the high fives and go to the pub eh, and all get pissed- the drinks are on me I mean the company’ and finally the mood lifted, the duped staff happy to deny their growing panic with the prospect of a free drink.

“Believe me,” thought Toby as he watched the staff hustle out the Boardroom door glad for the extra hour off paid.

‘“Believe Me”, I’m probably fucked’. “Believe Me”, it could be the could-be-you millennial catchphrase. “Believe Me”, and I am one of them, he thought walking over to the window, one of the Management bastards but not really and

Toby felt totally isolated unable to tell the staff it was all bollocks and most of them were in effect redundant now, O

Gawd. He had crossed the invisible line, become a pro, a paid liar, a whore for the dosh, his act as the capitalist pig now had become really real confirmed by the fact that he’d cheated on others and on himself. Be true to thine self,

Gwen always said, the Truth will set you free the old bird with the tobacco hair had said but Fuck it, I’m too poor to

317 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 have morals, as that guy on telly had said and Toby Tickle was doing for Tina and the Baby after all, surely that justifies it, the whitish lies, doesn’t it? O Gawd

‘Believe me, the opportunity is almost limitless, Sir’ Sky was next door in the Executive Management Room now shouting at the phone in the middle of the board table

Elizabeth and Brutus, Simon and Chris, Derek and Keith all looking at it as if there life depended on it. ‘We have a possibility here to convert your $ 3.25 million dollar investment into a billion dollar actuality, and that before Q3 next year’. And almost absurdly, Sky let that great if dubious fact rest on the gathered company hovering over the phone like some sort of angel, nothing coming back except if you listened very carefully a heavy steady breath rest. Then off he shot again in his cyber company rant, the stock, IPO, the user figures, actual and projected, values, ecommerce, etail, e this e that, just e, e, eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…... ‘There’s a lot of es in there mate’ a gravelly voice suddenly said, a genie coming from the big black phone; it was Barry making a joke and everyone, after quickly checking with each other, the boys looking at

Keith who grinned and they all dutifully laughed. Sky didn’t

318 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 get the Brit joke, so just grinned his Beach boy smile. ‘It all sounds marvelous’ said Barry gently so the others had to strain to hear, ‘the only thing I would say is…’ and the voice was very quiet now ‘Is this. I’ve listened to many

Americans over the years and I’ve always been impressed by how they could make up, tell, and sell a good story, even make them believe it themselves like the Wizard of Oz but I am not always so impressed by their delivery I have to say, they tend to rush in with a good idea masquerading as a plan, but with no follow through, then get bored if the return’s not good enough piss off and leave behind them a

God awful mess. So yes eeerrr… Sky isn’t it? Not too cloudy

I hope up there in Silicon doodah land? Yes anyway, it looks like Cabbie 3, 4 ,5 whatever number it is now, is going to drive out along Route 66, but, remember in the end delivery is all, beyond the gab there has to be something that people actually enjoy to use ’ and just before the American sales guy could get in with his

Climaxtatic affirmation as if sensed the dog straining on the leash Barry cut him off adding, ‘Don’t forget we can always reverse this motor, very easily just like that’ and there was a nervous laugh but the voices tone had flattened out further, ‘We can always pull the plug if things don’t go well’ and there was a click of his tongue, the phone focusing

‘Good luck, anyway, we’ll run with it for now, lob another mill in if required and you never know, as I said good luck we are right behind you’ the voice warmed and the assembled court subsiding into relief as the line dead after a simple ‘Ta Ta’. Barry leant back into his Motor and chuckled; he wasn’t even knew what he was backing. But he knew it was a deal and he knew he was paying and he knew it was always handy to issue a big threat wrapped in a little treat first. Barry had been burnt in the US before,

Bartone having to sell the music business to a US conglomerate, gobbled up, so you had to be careful when playing over there. But that was a long time ago and he was still here, so fuck ‘em, he’d kept the publishing and really this was peanuts anyway, Cabby just a punt on IT, part of the game the other Boys were playing so he, the

Chief, had to have a finger in, for his Rep, as KOK said even though he preferred the Footie and crap TV and secretly the pigs of course, but he had his entrepreneurial reputation to preserve, ‘All you’ve got is your rep in the end’, his old mate KOK, always used to say, who the real reason he was

320 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 taking the risk and investing and Keith of course. Bartone flies better, KOK’d done that for him; nice and simple, that’s how he liked it too like the old charmers Ding... Ring of…

Barry leaned back in the new Continental, riding into the gathering pink, beaming after another deal and a good lunch with KOK too good a lunch to then go glad-handing with the Cabby boyz that night, and, frankly he couldn’t be fucked But he always liked a good deal, new ventures kept it up the tempo upbeat too, fresh and antidotal against the tedium of the endless talking with the Lawyers and the

Bankers, the ongoing court cases about alimony and the worry about where his sick children were Dirk and the other one. Think positive Focus on the future, he told himself now and thought of Bicky again and they had chanted that

Buddhist thing together back then, followed by a bit of the other it was fee then and gawd how good was she at that

Tantric lark or what . Ahh the 70s, lunches all round, how him and KOK had laughed and as he turned into his long drive he persuaded himself that he really did good, that his blood was hot with the warmth of genuine bonhomie, no

Keith was still on the Motorway going north when Barry got home, there was flash flooding on the A1 outside

Stevenage the tail gates bright in the darkness of another thundercloud overhead and the tailback stretched out before him, like a neon snake on a chopping board. Keith caught himself in the mirror, the lines were now fixed, grooves on the forehead, his eyes besieged by the crisscross of worry. Be Happy, Relax. Smile, and Keith inserted his grin, Smiling makes you look younger, Helen the therapist had said. Six grand it cost him, all that malarkey, the pampering as she called it. Go on treat yourself, you deserve it she’d say, Love yourself; if you do then others will too and he felt again her hot breath on his neck now: Sweetness and light, breath in, sweetness and light, breath out shIT… The car suddenly stopped in the crawl in front of him and he slammed on the brakes.

‘Fucking cunt’, and two more lines, vertical fissures slashed down to the bridge of his nose. Tension Canyon my dear she’d called it pushing upward with her cool thumb. Come on Again. Breath in sweetness and light, breathe out

Yoga in his rear view mirror: What a dick. Sod that, the smile would do.

It was difficult this new life, putting all the bits together again, it was simpler when it was just head down, Work and House, no time no choice, working his bollocks off trying to make a buck. Work and House, that’s what it had been about, Needles and Vane and going up the property ladder, house after house, him and Doreen the Mrs, ten moves in as many years, just the Work and House, Geoff the partner and him driving each other on, goading each other in a sort of competition but close, real close. It was

25 years after all, almost like a marriage and more fucking productive than with the two bimbos he’d ended up with,

Doreen too drunk and then that Woman, the Young one,

Bitch. Oh Gawd, Geoff why did you have to go?

It had happened just like that, bing bang bong, ‘Keith’, he’d said, dropping his drink, palm flat against his chest ‘Help

Keith’, he’d said, dropping to his knees, ‘Not now’, his face white and wide open, eyes bulging ‘ Keith?’ falling flat

323 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 down. The police had said he’d broken his nose, so he must have been still alive when he’d hit the ground, he must have died lying there, as the bar cleared shrieks and strobe mixing into a muffled slow motion and Keith had just froze, staring as if he’d was died too. Oh Geoff, why did you go like that, leaving me holding the can, afraid, alone?

‘Come on. Think business. Don’t get caught up in all that shit again’ he told himself in the mirror now. Think business: the board meeting, Sky, Simon’s wobbly, him the

Angel the original investor, Bartone coming in, the others following, inevitable. It was all as it should be and already he’d turned his 50K into 500 in the last valuation and he hadn’t really tried. Keith sagged. But what did it matter? He had more than enough of the Money, it would look after itself now, but he hadn’t laughed since Geoff had gone, not properly and he saw that ridiculous grin Helen had told him to have, a happy heart is a healthy heart she kept on saying at him, over and over again.

‘Jesus fucking CHRIST’ Keith slammed on the breaks again.

It was his fault this time, just going off like that, it was his mind churning things over, the past over past over the

324 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 past, as if he didn’t have a present, stuck here in another brand new car, which made him feel better, for a short time, then not. Breath deeply Helen says, Think to the future, be positive, she had said as she lit another candle in the consulting room. California, America, and all that possibility, perhaps a whole new life could be had, leaving all the bad feeling and bullshit behind. Start afresh, leave

Geoff in his grave, Doreen the ex, Dad, the Bitch, in fact leave himself, his personal history as Helen called it, the printer from Dagenham made good and become again what he could have been if he hadn’t played safe. 70’s hipster, an explorer, an entrepreneur, Studio 54, entertainment tycoon, the little Big Man everyone looked up to. The

Yanks were straightforward, like him, they didn’t go in for the why and the what ifs, they just got on with the deal.

Forget history, that’s what they did, that’s what he’d do too, go to America and start a whole new life too.

The traffic started to move and Keith breathed deeply, Yes

Cabby takes you where you want to go, pushing down the peddle. America land of the free. Good torte this Isuzu he thought and he put on Titlesses Top Tips on the CD. ‘Just concentrate on the swing, focus on the ball, keep it simple.’

325 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the low American voice intoned, ‘that’s right, don’t complicate things....’ that’s right, don’t think, get on with the business at hand Keith told himself, gripping the wheel harder. Breath deeply. Helen Oh Helen and he saw her clear rosy face thick lipped among the curls saying she offered home phone support also and Keith smiled. I will ring her and ask. It suddenly became clear to him, after all

California was the center of alternative therapy as well as the Silicon Valley VCs. Her and him. She obviously liked him and... Keith smiled at last, an authentic grin. You know, it might be alright this after all, being Mr DotCom.

The Happening hi-tech Millionaire, in the Land of the Free and open ended possibility.

Back in town black suit brigade were drunk outside the

Hope and Anchor, silhouetted in the last of the low sun, bright orange the road shiny in the wetness and clear air left by the recent storm. The Cabby staff members were still hiding inside the pub, the one free drink finished, wondering how long they had to stay here to show requisite

‘team spirit’. The hot street had the sick sweet smell of a

City summer evening, the sun itself now hidden behind the

‘It’s a real pleasure for you to be in my team Tycul (as in

“Cycle”)’ Sky said ‘I’m really looking forward to working with you on this great project of ours.’ Tickle didn’t like the way the man put one hand on top of the other when he shook his, text book power manouevres- Mind Changes had gone through the whole gamut on the course. And one of his eyes was a different colour from the other, left brown right green, the lid on the green slightly drooped, so Toby wasn’t sure which one to look into. ‘Sky’s a surfer’ blurted out Simon all excited, the drink having removed any sign of age from his face. ‘Sky says we've all got to surf the Wave’ he said, trying to impersonate the crouched stance of the surfer, arms outstretched above his pot belly and black sweat pits. ‘Watch it Mate’ Simons drink had splashed on

Derek’s bald head, who jumping up switched into his

Marine stance ready for action, threatening to throw his pint back at Simon. But everyone laughed as if Derek was

Piggy in the playground, the top notch marketing guy before Sky turned up, was now the Fatboy in the

Playground and sitting back down again, he looked scared and very alone.

Toby saw that his right hand was shaking hard and Derek

‘Hey you guys, you see what’s happened to Amazon stock?’ said Sky coming off his Cell, ‘up 15 points yesterday, we got Gofetch.com IPO coming up and that should push the whole sector sky high’ ‘Hey lads, Skyhigh? Gettit? You know Sky and High’ laughed Simon ‘ Hey Sky baby Lets do that Hi 5 thing again’, and the two patently unathletic people went through their basketball routine, jumping up with a ‘UDARE KANDOO’ chant, surprising Toby that they managed to connect at all.

‘You better watch it mate,’ hissed Derek through gritted teeth into Tobys ear, ‘the fuckface yank is angling to take over the whole company, believe me obvious innit, fucking carpetbagger thinks he knows about marketing, couldn’t market his arse as far as I can see’ he said glaring at Sky as if he was about to kill him, ‘Do you think so, take-over?’ said Toby, suddenly worried again that despite his kow towing his job was about to disappear again. ‘Yeah it’s the whole lot over to America, You’ll see and it all end in grief.’

Muttered Derek, I’ve seen it in the Gulf before. Yanks have good bullshit, big Plans, but fuck it all up in the end, when

‘You alright you two, comparing hair loss treatments Are you? Grecian 2000 meant to be good’. It was Simon behind them, suspicious of the mid management whispering grinning like a fool. Let it wash over, Toby told himself, keep your head down and wait for the Money to come, and he moved away from drunk Derek to reduce Simon’s paranoia and get closer to the cash.

‘Hey you Guys’, it was Sky again with a look of an explorer noting the ways of the natives. ‘What about a toast? It’s what you do here right, me luds and ladees, Gentlemen right?’ Sky must have been watching Upstairs Downstairs on PBS in preparation for his trip out to the Colonies in the

East. ‘ Yeah that’s right Sky,’ ‘ Well, Guys I’ve just heard that Music Boulevard stock gone through 200 points, that a

389 % rise since IPO, strong validation of our new strategy,

Standing on the Shoulder of Giants- its time to shop shop shop online right guys?’ and they all raised their glasses.

‘Yeah here’s to the stock’, ‘Yeah here’s to the stock’ Tickle wanting to crawl under the table, ‘IPO 2000’ growled Derek,

‘Millennium float’ piped up Simon and they all raised their

329 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 glasses again, ‘‘Millennium float’, ‘Here’s to a billion dollar company’ pronounced Sky and after a brief pause through which an ambulance siren raced down Baker Street, they then all raised their glasses solemnly against the molten blaze of the sunset, the group of black suits like a wake attending a birth, ‘A billion dollar company A billion dollar company A billion dollar company’.

Deeply embarrassed Tickle furtively raised his glass of fizzy water too, again wanting to go to the loo and, seeing the bubble turning bloody under the red sky suddenly felt a tickle at the base of his stomach running into his groin. Yes, he did too, he couldn’t help himself, he was excited, desperately so in fact, he wanted it really badly, yes he did, he really wanted it to become a billion dollar company and, feeling sick he realized then that he too, deep down, was willing to do anything in order to get it. Ok, Freespace had failed, his bid for a bigger slice of cake, the being creative and being seen to do something approximating art, but was that the point. It was the Money that was the point and if the Money didn’t rate that so be it, if the Money demanded that the figures be fudged well he had to play by the

Moneys rules, he had to hang in there and hold his

330 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 integrity, whatever that was, his truth maybe, for a later date. You’ve got to survive first and as the man said only after Money comes Morals. The trouble was Toby sensed he’d lied to the point that he didn’t know where his Truth was and in order to become real again he had to become fully the lie, to realise the object of his obsession, the Great

Carrot, it had to be had now, in order to prove he was in fact still alive.

------

17.

At the heart of information one finds history haunted by its

own disappearance

Pataphysics of the Year 2000 Jean Baudrillard

‘Is it moving or not?’ ‘With my third I definitely felt less kicking’ ‘Fuck I could murder a cigarette’, moaned Tina, stopping her friend in mid flow, it was her first for fucks sake. ‘Like Toby and poor little Jacko, that damned rabbit?

I’m glad I didn’t let Toby baby sit my Jonnny’ sniggered

Ellen, tactfully hiding the tobacco under the pile of For Sale details of other hutches around Hackney. ‘Yeah. We’ll never know will we?’ Tina smiled affectionately. Only since this pregnancy had begun she realized she had accepted that

Toby wasn’t bad but it was his unpredictability that made her nervous about him being a Dad. The fact was she just didn’t get him really and now, at last she’d abandoned even trying to guess. ‘We’re on different planets’ she said serious again, ‘Yeah I know’ said Ellen. ‘It’s men isn’t it? ’ said Tina ‘Bloody, motherfucking dam men’ Ellen added,

332 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 still fuming about the court case with Jonnys father, and another ruined date, ‘Bloody, motherfucking dam men’ and they both started laughing, at each other, recognizing that they were both now old enough to know it.

Tina had been doing a practice therapy session, a cup of tea and a chat with Ellen who, having thrown out her husband a year back, was in a bit of a painful limbo menwise, her dating partly kyboshed by her young son and she had become prone to depression, not getting enough as she’d self diagnosed it, well not getting fucking none at all actually. Instead she’d fallen in love with a Popstar she’d never actually met, although her friend Felicity knew him and Ellen was now totally convinced that, ‘Its my sixth sense isn’t it’, the Popstar was head of heels in love with her too. Felicity was also the mother of Ellens exs love child so, given the confusion, perhaps it was no wonder she felt she was going slightly mad, positive that when the

Popstar was singing ‘its only people like you so la-di-da wanting to know what its like to be shite if you know I know who you are la di da..’ he was in fact singing about her, wanting her, calling her to come to his side.

Tourettes, Munchhausen was it? Tina couldn’t remember the name for it and made a note to look it up, Eros and all that. She felt sad for Ellen; she must be very lonely and an emptiness opened up inside Tina too just above where her baby was supposed to be, feeling again the same old longing for the Dad and the hurt of Lee, then the Baby last year, a bottomless a pain there, still. Now pregnant again, for some reason she couldn’t stop herself thinking that Toby was leaving now, as if all the longing, the fear and the loss she’d had previously had was all mixed up in him now and so he was certain to disappear too. It was life. It was just how it was, and is. Real. More and more it felt as if he had already left; always working, always angry, tense, stressed with lists and bad stomach IBS her called it, stress and it felt he was changing into someone else now, never talking, never listening and the emptiness bloomed again inside her and she couldn’t stop herself admitting that in fact she never felt close to him at all anymore.

Shit she really needed a fag. ‘Don’t worry darling, it will sought itself out’ she said now to Ellen, touching the others spreading palms burying her own pain and doubt in her friends. Tina concentrated on the person in front of her,

334 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 imagining her as a client, trying to communicate with the real self of the person opposite, the inner child, that truth inside under the laughter and the silly madness of her unrequited Popstar love. ‘It will be alright you’ll see, you’ll find someone else soon don’t worry’. It was her Counsellor role she was trying to acquire, to be the affirming mirror and Tina had seen the battered black and white photo in the corner of her friends lounge; Ellens Dad too had gone

AWOL, although later than Tinas, he’d gone off and died forever and it felt now they were both sitting in the same place. In absentia, Ellen called it, she worked part time in

Court; was that it, that windy place, the gap that the fathers had left and both were engaged in the same difficult task of trying to fill it up, the vacuum, with someone else. O

Gawd she thought, it was a constant struggle trying to fill the empty mould of the man that should have been there, but had left.

‘Being ill’ refers to the withdrawn disassociated state, which in other circumstances would be classed as a disturbance of the personality, but in the case of a mother is an indication of her complete attention to her foetus and her baby….’ Ellen read out loud from Tina counseling course

335 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 set text laughing, ‘What the fuck does that mean?’ ‘ Winni- fuckin-cott’ Tinas head tightened, worrying again if she was going to be a ‘good enough mother’, not doing a ‘flight into sanity’ but ignoring the child and…. What the fucks this? Repressed penis envy leaves but little room for primary maternal preoccupation’ ‘Why’s he put in that but there? Winnicott Wanker’, Tina muttered hating the clever mans fancy way of writing and anyway the last thing she wanted to think about was dicks, though no doubt Toby would try it on later, as he always did. ‘Relieves the stress doesn’t it’, he’d say trying to make her feel guilty and, really, she didn’t want to, hardly ever now, what with the wobbly feeling inside her and the doubt around Toby, but she probably would just to shut him up, stop him getting too uptight with the job, or worse, get angry and flipping his lid like before. She needed to keep him in Cabby though, in work order for her to feel safe, to take her where she wanted to go, whatever that stupid motto was. Calm, that was what was needed now. It’s the mother who affords the infant the opportunity for the illusion that her breast is part of the infant, by her extremely delicate adaption to the emotional needs of the infant in order to allow the baby this illusion…Oh Winnicott; Playing and Reality, it’s about doing

Push push push, everything spread, all muscles contracting, mental attention focused on the exegesis from the end. But it just wouldn’t come, some awful joke being played out on him, the witches cackling in the background getting their own back for the childbirth pain, the turnip in the arse as

Ellen called it, virtual veg in the case of Tobys own constipated IBS hell. Toby was still stuck on the bog pushing himself to evacuate with the urge so strong him to do so. Razil Panir Razil Panir, Razil Panir, nothing coming, nothing coming, nothing coming, the name seemed to keep time with the pushing and the pulling of the pain his gut not quite doing it when it felt like his colon wanted to escape. It just wouldn’t come, the fucking phantom turd but it made him feel like shit anyway. An irritating bowel, IBS, the syndrome, his life, Razil Panirs punishment for multimillions disappearing from Doly Dock and now Tickle couldn’t help but feel an affinity, another capitalist pig suffering from stress, which even with all their billions Smith Kline,

Welcome and Pfizer couldn’t assist.

‘its only people like you so la-di-da wanting to know what

its like to be shite if you know you know I know who you

are la di da…’

‘Fucking fantasist’ Toby grumbled on the bog, Mushs single being played back again and again to requite Ellens nuttiness. He could hear her going on now to Tinaabout the

Popstar, while he was sitting here failing to yield, reading the new mortgage offer from Ryan Poison the Financial

Advisor, trying to keep his mind off his sphincters hell.

4.75% Capped, Floating or should he go for Fixed?...Oh

Gawd.

‘its only people like you so la-di-da wanting to know what

its like to be shite if you know you know I know who you

are la di da…’

‘Dad… blah Toby blah Dad’, Tina going on about him again.

Was she trying to mould him into her Father, Toby becoming the dad she had wanted hers to be, normal, straight, 9-5, a marionette in her dream? Something broke off and hit the water. It wasn’t a reassuring plop, more an irritating dribble. OK, go before the need to come back, unrequited again and Tickle suddenly regretted having ever got hooked up with Tina in the first place. Did he really love her anyway? Didn’t he just transfer his addiction from drink

Lust or Love? Did he want the last but could only do the first? Or did he disguise the first as the last in order to pursue it with all his life? Had he lost himself in this virtual reality just to get his end away the only verification he had of being alive, the only hit left? Was the fantasy he had about sex really to support the fantasy of his life where, deprived of his own love, he couldn’t love himself or anyone else including his wife? O gawd. What had happened to his life, Millenium Hamlet and the rest.

…proclaim no shame...when the compulsive ardour gives the charge, Since frost itself as actively doth burn And reason panders will…

But he was full of it, Shame, it as a mistake too far to admit, messing up the sacred bit, Love, the very core, the centre, it was the point of it all wasn’t it? The ultimate truth, FAITH, HOPE, LOVE AND THE GREATEST OF THESE

IS…that’s what he had been told from year dot, and if that was fucked up what was the meaning of anything he did.

He was lost, doomed, wasn’t he? O gawd.

Shame forever or, perhaps did that make Shame the biggest addiction he had, having it before he even knew what it was? O gawd, and turning instinctively to look at the flushs result, Toby saw a strand of blood like a worm floating in the bowl, a couple of little streaks bobbling around and when he realized what it was, he gagged. O gawd.

‘Hiya Tick, all done?’ said Ellen with a smirk. Toby smiled, fibrillating his flat hand. ‘Alright? Um. Sorry, I’ve got to catch the Newsnight’. He really didn’t want to get into the female chit chat now, he didn’t want to have to push down three in a bed fantasy, the triple decker Simon has been crowing about today, Beth and Janice for a laugh, and he didn’t want to think of going with Ellen and having a totally different life. In fact, he wanted them both to go, it was all too mushy, the women blathering on. He had to keep his head straight, keep focused on the Plan and the News always gave him a sense of being still on it, the Business in hand.

He had to be up very early in the morning to resume the software battle before the Americans rang to have another offensive action, as Derek called it, attacking him for product download of Cabby 3.4 not being quick enough again. ‘Its still 3 meg we gotta to reduce it further, essential to get the download time down to 3 min optimum over a 28.8 modem…Recent research done by AOL shows

67.8 %,’ Blah blah fucking blah.. ‘Yeah that’s right Clint ..’

‘Sure Sky’ ‘You hear that Tickle? It’s absolutely essential in order to disseminate the product online at the speed required by the investors’ ‘Yah yeah fucking yeah, its 6 months of my life building it and you now want me to change the thing completely in order to squeeze it down the fucking world wide web which it wasn’t designed to do.. Be real for fucks sake… ’ but he didn’t say that, he knew where the power lay…‘Go boy we are all rooting for you, we know you can deliver’ they said him thinking Yakketty Yankety

Yack. Yank. TWAT.

‘the UN security council plans an emergency meeting on

Thursday to review two reported massacres of Ethnic

Albanians in Kosova, allegedly carried out by Serbian security forces, Robin Cook the Foreign Minister, reacted

341 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 early today” Jeremy looked particularly peeved tonight ‘ I am appalled by these reports indicating women and children at Gornje Obringe were slaughtered’ Toby saw the picture of dusty valleys and poor villages, bodies lying everywhere, hoping Tina wouldn’t come into see it as she’d probably start crying again about Anita or whatever that woman at the Centre was called. He turned the TV down; he needed to keep Tina in a good mood, he realized he really needed relief tonight. One more time, even though he knew it wasn’t right. He felt he’d be swallowed up in his own self hate if he didn’t at least get a false loving from her telling him he was in fact alright, redeemable still.

‘Eyewitnesses said the bodies, including small children were cut in the throat or were shot through the head at close range. Some of the bodies had been mutilated’ and Jeremy sighed, as did Tickle. ‘Over in America President Clinton woes continued, Kenneth Sun continues his investigation into the Whitewash affair...’

‘Hey up Clinty been up to his old tricks again’, Ellen and

Tina had come through and now Tina put her arms around

Tobys stiff neck’ ‘Following the decision to release the

Videotape of Mr. Clintons grand jury testimony in the

Monica Lewinsky affair’ ‘Yep he’s been dogging about again’ said Ellen, arranging herself on the floor elegantly and imagined herself doing something in the White House fiddling with the controls; ‘there’s always something satisfying in reducing the Ruler of the Universe to a mute’.

The bland over-red face of the most powerful man in the world was now there, looking very lonely, testifying into camera about the stain on that dress. He looked almost drowsy and it didn’t flicker, the face, didn’t give any sign that he was lying, just flat, bland, opaque, an out of shape

James Bond preparing for torture..‘I don’t know about the most powerful but he must be the best liar in the world’ said Ellen, dreamy and instinctive, she had her own affairs to worry about, forget this sodding TV world.

‘Shit what’s that?’ she suddenly exclaimed going towards the Screen, an explosion in the night, a cruise missile climbing twisting up into a black sky. ‘Some say it is a ploy to distract the media away from his trouble at home, but the fact is the continual threat of terrorism and tension in the Gulf and particularly Iraq remain constant and these measures…’ Jeremy urged them to listen but Ellen said

‘Fuck that, I’ve got to go’ and as Tina went to say goodbye to her friend at the door, Tickle couldn’t help but feel happy he had a clear shot at her now.

‘Yeah we should go to bed too’ he said when she came back, her immediately knowing by his tone what bed meant. The horrible collection of events on TV had made him even more tense and Toby really needed some relief from all the friction that had built up between the conflicting threesomes in his head: Mr Clinton, that dress and the Cruise; the Yanks, Cabby and the Carrot; Work,

House and Millennium Hamlet; the Lie, the Lie and the Lie; and here, with his sort of wife, the other woman and the child to be, he really needed Tina to give him her own brand of urgent therapy, now, despite the fact that the next

World War was breaking out on the Screen.

------

18.

‘ ..we could suppose that the acceleration of technology, events, and media –driven modernity, as well as the speed of other economic , political and sexual exchanges have set loose a tempo of liberation whereby we have become removed from the sphere of reference to the real, to history…

Pataphysics of the Year 2000 Jean Baudrillard

‘Come on come on come on faster baby faster that’s it that’s it nice, nice more more more faster faster, smoothly that’s it, come on quicker quicker quicker 15seconds, 30 seconds, a minute, oh shit faster come onnnnnooooooon,

Shit. No…Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck its fucking broken again. Ahh

Shit’ two months later and the download for the new version of Cabby 3.2 had crashed, again, the Screen frozen, the hourglass cursor there upturned standing time still.

Dead; the software development milestone 4.32 was missed, and with clawed hands Toby was pulling his dry skin down around his mouth. He felt dead also, without rest for too long, nine weeks after the American occupation had

345 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 begun still feeling the vacuous gibber in his stomach, rattling around after another fraught and frightening transatlantic grilling from the Whizz-team as they now liked to be called.

‘Hey Buddy, you gotta understand the investors will only commit as soon as we can get it below the 2min theshold’

Sky had been going on about the market demands, again

‘But it’s a totally different product for fucks say Sky’ ‘Its what the Market wants, there’s no choice’, ‘Yeah, we need to instigate an RAD system, introducing a NPP and correlate’ the Flintstone tones of Clint ‘Yeah right sure mate’ said Tickle. ‘Look Pale Rider on roller-skates you’re reading out of the fucking manual, you haven’t got a clue what’s going on you fuckingkaarrr…’, but Tickle didn’t say that to Skys techhead and Strike didn’t say anything at all, but was somewhere there in background and it was Ingrid the Kiwi programmer who told the boys how it was. ‘Guys, its not the right approach is it,’ she said ‘cack-handed we’d call it back home, but if that’s what you want, well...gee you’re paying and I'm taking 100 dollars an hour.’ And she shrugged somewhere in the ether, which made the men suspend for a moment their little battle over the Azores …

Click click click …Clinton is requested to provide samples for

DNA testing in the Monica Lewinsky case… Tickle was maneuvering his mouse through Cabbies 3D Newsroom into the MusicParlour and clicking on one of the neon lit shop fronts. Click… it opened up into an endless rack of CDs, and then he came out again so the shop door closed, then went straight back in again…Click…opening it back out, then in again Click open again, Click and again. Chris had told him to keep doing it, ‘Just fucking do it’ for hours, ‘get the numbers up, the click-thrus by Users’ so Chris could then persuade the so called Partners, the Giants whose

Shoulders Sky was determined to stand on, to have a link back to Cabby and therefore convince the Investors that

Cabby was indeed really hot, a highly popular Web destination, even if it was obvious, if anyone had taken the time to check, that all those clicks had come from the same machine which happened to be in the damp basement of the almost empty office of the Companys European and

Rest of the World HQ in London. It was fraud; if you wanting to be simple.

Click …But they didn’t check, the Investors, or the Partners, the Money didn’t want to know, there was no time now, everyone was all too busy building up their own story, with their own bits of fabrication, everyone sensing that the strength of their story depended on the others stories holding up too. As long as the story held together, nobody cared, and, for the Investors at least, it wasn’t real anyway it was the future that they were buying and the sooner it came the better. Click click …Each story each little lie was designed to cheat time a little, move it bit nearer quicker so more money would be made and that would in turn make more money, each a bet on the future before the last had become present. It was Time on steroids, each lie an injection to compact it, invert it, compress it into a little bit of instant history, pushing the future into the present, to make something worth something now when it didn’t really yet exist. It was a bit like borrowing on hope without having to go through the bad bits to get there thought Toby, skipping the business of life to get to Nirvana straightaway.

Click click click …Last weeks terrorist bombs in Kenya and

Tanzania point directly back to bin Laden and the world wide conspiracy… the Ticker tape of lopped news game

The office felt horribly empty now, without Strike the maker of the code and Aziz his assistant, the heart of the operation had been removed. Everyone had gone, only

Bez, the content guy, ‘retained for UK localization’, Ingrid,

Janice, Derek and Toby were left. Seven years Internet time equals one year Real time as Simon kept spurting off, no doubt borrowed wisdom from the latest West Coast guru he was mimicking and Toby had only been in the job for a four months but it felt like, well at least two years, which is a long time when you haven’t slept.

Click click click….the U.S. policy of seeking a peaceful transition to democracy in Cuba is unaffected by an August

25 indictment of seven Cuban-Americans on charges of conspiracy to murder Cuban President Fidel Castro… The place was beginning to feel second rate, doing the dogs body work for the US Corporation, shit pay in shit conditions. Chris was with Sky over in the Valley pitching to VCs, for the second time round and still with no money promised no doubt his lies were getting even bigger, along with their expense receipts. Janice was full of it, the piles of tabs, hotel checks, mobile bills, not sure whether to laugh

349 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 or cry; ‘spending it like water they are, them Americans are just taking the piss’ she’d say standing above the Wells drain smoking in the drizzle. ‘Well I don’t like it, none of it, it doesn’t add up’ she said simply.

Click click click …Stung by criticism in some press accounts that U.S. marines callously prevented "good Samaritan" volunteers from aiding Kenyan wounded and dying victims of the U.S. Embassy bombing here, an Embassy spokesman said such judgments were unfortunate….Click click click …In the UK, London town, it was raining, the soft continuum of late summer drizzle subduing the split company and Toby should have but didn’t want to go home to pregnant Tina.

His mind faded from the clicking, thinking briefly of her and her work and her sad colleague, the Serbian Refugee,

Annesh… Click click click….. something or other….American mistake tractor for tank… bus blown up…. F16s cited but not confirmed by the US military. Collateral Damage is to be expected the Prime Minister says and ……. it was if most of his work now was not so much about getting the product to function but about putting together the defense case before the inevitable fraud charges were bought, making sure that if potential investors checked you’d have enough

…the woman in tears all day and Tina had come home and cried too; it made all this seem so silly…Click click click

…Reports are coming in of possible attacks on prime western capitals by Islamic Jihad groups and possible gas attacks are also imminent. Since the Sarin attack on the

Tokyo metro system in 1995 experts have been predicting nerve gas as a potential…

A chorus of questions, four or five phones simultaneously erupted across the room of empty desks sounding like an alarm. ‘Hi there, it’s a fabulous morning here in LA thank the Lord and it’s a good day for making a heap load of dollars too’. It was that fucking Donnie again, oblivious to the fact it was a a shit evening in London and pissing with rain ‘ We need to load up AutomagicExpress.com Ill send over the links and client assets,’ Donnie sounded all Sunkist cheery ‘and Great News, they’re looking towards a branded

Cabby too. Isn’t that just sooper as you Brits say?’ ‘Cunt’

‘Sorry, Tycul, did you say can’t.’ ‘No mate I just coughed’

‘Oh good, I’m still not too good with the accent over there, and any way Tyky my friend, Can’t isn’t a word we

Failure is not an option here.’ ‘Sure Don’ ‘We need it for tomorrow, I trust that can be incorporated into your time stroke people skeduel’. ‘Sure Don’. Twat.

Upstairs Keith was at that moment vigourously shaking the

New Managers hand, with a mixture of excitement and relief. He was a real one, at last, a proper Bricks and Mortar

Manager who knew Business and was indeed the Business, top exec from a NASDAQ 500 firm. ‘Thank you, very good, that’ll do nicely. Welcome aboard. As I said, it could be quite a ride’. Keith had the 50K cheque in his hand, it was a result and he had on one of his twinkly very white teeth smiles almost genuine, Helen having recommended the bleach dip, though he wondered if it made them look like

Dads falsies. His smile was one of relief, at last he had some real professional help to get Cabby into Barrys broad embrace safely and he grinned wider, gripping the New

Managers hand.

Clive Griffin, the New Manager noticed his hand was actually still shaking after it handed over the Coutts cheque. That was it then. A new bank, the one he’d thought

Cabby Inc. CEO Global Designate, although he didn’t quite know what this Cabby thing did, dot-com and all that. All he did know that it was different, after doing twenty years of pretty much the same thing, flogging computer chips to corporates and yes it felt good, didn’t it? It was exciting, wasn’t it? Yes, he thought, but really he wasn’t sure what he thought or felt anymore.

That’s why he was here, wasn’t it? Ed, his Personal

Development Coach had suggested it; ‘Get some passion back in your life, buddy, you gotta have your own story to tell’. It was true, it had just happened, back in ’78, wanted to be an actor Dustin Hoffman type but once he started selling he couldn’t stop and now twenty years later he realised his whole adult life he had been selling someone else’s story, forced always to be upbeat, selling, always with a smile.

‘Could sell rice to the chinks’ they said about him at XZ, but he knew, despite his energetic shpeel that the stories were actually really boring, The Graduate had become The Grind, the thrilling tale of a band of PCs and their peripheries journey into Corporates and SMEs across the land for

Monthly; ‘FASTDRUG REVAMPS ENTERPRISE VIA CLIVE

TOBBINS XZ-tec UK’. Cabby would at least give him a

Millennium tale for the Kids, California and the Holy Grail of

IT, the killer app, Cabby, it takes you where you want to go, that was catchy, wasn’t it? Anything was better than the epitaph he’d been waking up to for the last few months since leaving the Corporation - Worked like shit, got rich, played golf and died. There must be something more than that.

It had happened fortuitously; ‘Serendipity’ Ed had called it.

Clive’s met Brutus at Cheryl’s and Daniels 20th anniversary,

(not bad given the succession of flings Danny boy had had).

‘Fancy being a hero Clive?’ had said Brutus, sidling up beside him ‘We’ve got a little dot com thing you might be interested in, keep you busy now you’ve retired so to speak’. Clive had just cashed in his options at XZ-Tec for

2.5mill ‘Its only 50K to play’ Brutus had winked and then, it seemed in a trice ‘ Internet time seven times faster’

Simon’d told him and he’d met Keith, Elizabeth and then the great Barry of Bartone plc. ‘Welcome aboard’ the big

Man had said. He knew Bartone because it produced Blokes and Trucks, which Clive really liked and then there was the possibility of America and the Valley sparkling before him, the cradle of all things IT, the Hi Tech womb of VC and this was the chance to prove himself again as the cutting edge entrepreneur he once was when he selling Sinclairs to City boys back in God knows when. Yes by golly he’d go for it,

Cabby takes you where you want to go and he might even turn into something interesting, in the News, even Telly and someone might even write a book about it, who knows.

‘We’ve got to get rid of him today,’ Keith said suddenly flat and serious after the second zip of Chandon, ‘clear out the last of the dross and the rest of the production crew.’ Clive knew immediately what Keith meant. A sacking, a purge; it was almost a prerequisite, Clive knew the form; a New

Manager in, his ignorance of the situation reducing the pain for him and everyone else concerned as he conducted the ritual restructure, designed to contain the emotion before it could be felt. ‘Derek Smalls? Ok. Might as well do it now eh?’ said Clive clicking into automan exec. ‘What’s his extension?’ he demanded, determined to demonstrate why he was worth 550K a year basic at XZ-tec Inc. he dialed down to the basement but other middle manager who he

Kandoo List, to check with Keith whether the bald bloke was to be a caretaker or a fall guy once the Bartone Plan had fallen into place. Apparently he was a bit of a weirdo, had been an actor once and Clive scribbled a note, kid gloves. ‘Not here’ Tickle answered ‘with Janice I think’ trying to be helpful. Clive was the new boss after all and he might stop the mid Atlantic confusion that was driving Toby insane. ‘Not to worry, we’ll find him ourselves’ interjected

Keith into the speaker phone, ‘Ill give Janice a call, she’ll sort it out’

‘So we were on leave in Kuwait City, Night leave they call it, back before Dawn and there were all these Yanks, Kids you know, from Ohio, Detroit and shitholes like that. You know

Mid West moronic like’. Derek was onto his fourth pint, not bad for a late lunch, but he’d need a shot or two to get him through the rest of the day and he was telling another Gulf story to Janice who he had almost begged to have drink with him as nobody else would. ‘Cor blimey’ said Janice, again, trying to be interested with another not quite boss

Derek there?’ said Keith ‘Well get the prat back here sharpish will you. We’re doing the deed today; you know what I mean, so we need you to do the paperwork quick and... .’

‘Where was I?’ said Derek flustered trying to put down his paranoid thoughts, ‘going over the top oh yeah’ , the flashbacks were more often, he sensed something was up, but he didn’t want to feel afraid. The tremors were terrible, drink was the only thing to hold ‘em down. No bollocks,

NCO Smalls said to himself, Gulf War Syndrome, fer pansies you know. Come on you kaaaarrrrk. He who dares Wins

‘Yeah same again mate. Did I tell you about the time with

Mars. Here, mate, make that a double, when we did that promotion for Alton Towers and the kid got mowed down by the truck we were using’ ‘No’ said Janice closing the phone and grinning tightly feeling herself coming on all black widowish and sick. ‘That was Keith, a bit of a celebration back at the office, you’re invited, Clives first day. Come on, might cheer you up’ she added feeling wretched, thinking of the upset another sacking would cause the remaining staff. Who was next after Derek? Bez, Tickle, her?

AAAOOOH… a twinge shot up the left hand side of her back, bringing in a tinge of nausea. OH Gawd hold on, just hold on. Believe me, it will be alright trust me, Toby always said when she asked if there was a mortgage offer on the table yet, ‘Believe me it’s on its way’, or whether Cabby was working, ‘Believe me, everythings hunky dory’. But she had really wanted to get into the new house before the Baby was born, two bedrooms at least and it didn’t look like it was going to happen in time, less than 6 months away now.

AAAOOOH …there, another wave of sickness, this time right up to the top of her throat. Something was rumbling and she felt unsure. Giddy, unwell. The swelling in Tinas stomach felt strangely detached and looking up at the mirror shade coming down from the centre of the ceiling, she felt encased in a condition slightly separate from herself. It was as if she was sliding towards a hole that had no ending and as she went further the more she lost control.

Where the fuck was Tickle? he said he’d be back by eight?

They’d agreed that this time they would try and be settled,

358 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 normal, take things really easy rather than the turmoil of the Virtual Nightclub. Cabby was meant to be a job job, it was PAYE, a normal job normal people had and although her life had been anything but normal Tina hung on to the notion that it existed, normal, and therefore calm, for her dear life. Now she wanted, she needed, to be certain about what was happening, pregnant enough at least to let go of the control, the self sufficiency her own career life demanded, and she needed to let go of the growing belief that hitching up with Toby had left her sort of stranded half way in between being with someone and alone.

AAAOOOH…shit. It was cock eyed, cack handed, back to front, their life, normal people get things in place first, before having a Baby not having the stress whiles its happening but now there just didn’t seem to be time…..the most common cause for a single miscarriage is a chromosomal abnormality … Errors in the transmission and the….the chromosome content is incompatible with life and the pregnancy miscarries…..stress that these errors occur randomly and are rarely a cause of recurrent mis….. Tina rolled over on her side. Why was she reading this stuff again? It was as if she already knew there would be problems? She put the paper aside, trying to stop herself thinking of a cigarette and lay back on the bed.

There she saw herself now, curled up, a little fetus in the circle of the mirror lampshade above her and she pulled the duvet cover right up to her chin. The world was so frightening. You had to rely on something, didn’t you, but all you could rely on, in the end was yourself, that’s what

Mum always said. Higher Power and all that bollocks Toby used go on about when he’d first got out of the Crypt, God,

Religion, that was all self hypnosis clap trap, that’s what her Mum said and she ought to know, being a war child and having been through so much herself. Opium for the masses said Lee, Dog eat Dog more like Saul had said and

Tina knew she had had to do everything in her power to stop it taking you over, the fear, once you saw that there was nobody, nothing else to help. Control, being on top of things that was the key, Life is a Battle and any relief can only come from those times where there is enough time have a bit of spliff, a drink and a laugh. Without these she sometimes let herself think, she was left anxious and that then made her more pissed off and angry with herself making her just want a toke.

Fucking Tickle, he couldn’t even look after a rabbit for fucks sake, selfish sod. Why? Fucking men, fucking..?. Why, why do women have to be put in this position, vulnerable, at the most important time of their life? Giving birth and having to rely on the most unreliable thing- men. O gawd. Ah well, at least there was always Mum.

Shit, she was going to go apeshit thought Tickle in his bunker at Work, he’d promised he’d always be back by 7 but you can’t be so certain when anytime you might loose your job. He sat there as if besieged by the dripping pipes outside just waiting to be sacked; had the ‘restructuring’ started already upstairs, was he going to be called in after

Derek? Was this it then, New Manager he knew meant a new set up, like with Derek only 4 months before but that was two years in Internet time. Shit. Had his number now been called? Toby was unsettled by the phone call from the new guy Clive and he sat sort of waiting, head in hands for something to happen, no longer welcome in Well with the rest smoking he felt very alone again. Was it all going to come to nought, the house, the Baby, Tina, himself?

‘Hey Toby’ whistled Bez, the cherry web guy who just smoked spliff all day and let the rest run over him, ‘Here mate, at last, a bit of content that might even be called funny on the fucking world wide web’ OK he needed something to cheer himself up and went down the corridor where the remaining staff were gathered around a screen, as if it was a way out of this the last stand before the force redundancy overpowered them again; a bit like Abyss 2.

‘Look, see there she is, going into the room’ panted Ingrid.

‘Where’s he gone?’ chuckled Bez, ‘He’s not going to do it, is he?’ Ingrid squealed mouth open wide, ‘Jesus H Christ’,

‘Go on girl, give him one’ encouraged Bez as a naked figure went up into what looked like an attic room, the split

Screen of four black and white pictures, fuzzy like fog, people moving like ghosts in cells but blurred in the clunky

Internet video feed. ‘It’s brutal, the Users vote out the ones they don’t like. It fucking 1984 innit’ said Bez and Toby thought of the audition for the film he’d had with John Hurt and Burton over a decade ago, both pissed out of their heads and it would have been an interesting anecdote to tell everybody except he couldn’t remember what happened

‘Yeah Grosse Bruder they call it, Dutch innit,’ sniggered Bez

‘all in an Amsterdam squat, fucking millions logged on, peeping toms just waiting there for the first shag’. ‘Is this what your Freespace is going to look like’? ribbed Ingrid to

Tickle about his would be grand project now abandoned, another miscarriage, lost too, ‘Very post modern ironic don’t you think mate’. A cough came from the doorway,

‘Tickle a moment please’. It was Keith, looking serious. Oh shit. Tobys stomach emptied. Oh shit, it was his turn.

Redundancy, it sounded like a disease, he’d been thinking it everyday for a month and in a way he’d be relieved now it had finally come.

Keith waited, let some time pass, enjoying the picture of the ponce shitting his bricks and he let another few moments go, enough time for the heavy dripping of the pipes to be joined by distant thunder claps outside. Then he told him. ‘You want the bad news or the … Fuck it..We’re letting Derek go today, so we need you to be on hand, for securitys sake, make sure he doesn’t nick anything

Tickle sagging with relief. ‘Oh yeah’ Keith turned in the doorway. ‘Tic.. I mean Toby mate, get your bags packed, if all goes smoothly tonight and we, or rather you manage to keep things on track, the Board wants you out in California to check on the Yanks the week after next... Bit of sunshine heh? By your colours it looks like it won’t do you any harm to go...’ said Keith grinning.

So was that the reward thought Toby, for another line crossed, this time cheating on the guy who was on the same level, dog eat dog, management on management, and he felt a bit like a hungry dog licking the little big mans bowl but oddly, because it did not fit the image of himself, he couldn’t stop himself feeling well pleased. It was the same thing, was he changing like Jekyll and Hyde the fact was he’d won, beat the Broomie pisshead in the battle of

Number 2’s which meant he was one step nearer the Money and out of this crap for good. Fuck you Derek, He who dares wins, so there.

‘Fucking Hell did you hear it, a terrorist attack all hells going to break loose, where the fuck Janice’ it was Simon bursting down the stairs and tumbling downstairs. No one had seen him for a week. ‘…its high alert, fuckin Muslims we’re next I know, the gas, the underground, Sarin for sure, it could be happening now, it’s the third world war out there every man for himself’. Simon was drooling, all red and wide eyed with Beth white-faced and reticent by his side. ‘I’m not fucking joking, Janice where’s fucking Janice, she’s got to get it now’. Janice came emerged soaking wet behind them ‘Oh Janice where the fuck have you been? I want you to go get two masks now, from that place, the

Spy shop on Portland, get it on expenses, two, quick, now, go, it’s a matter of life and death’. ‘But I’ve got some stuff to do for Keith , you know Derek..’ but Simons face turned from red to really red almost purple ‘I am still fucking MD

CEO of this fucking company so fucking do what I fucking well say you ka..’ ‘Alright alright I’m off’ said Janice quickly heading back up into the downpour outside.

Toby retreated back into his bunker, praying that the

Investors wouldn’t find out about Simon going mad before the second round was through. He closed the door hard

365 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 behind him trying to stop himself seeing how ridiculous it all was becoming, this mad show, including himself starting to sound like the arsehole Froths. Was he getting lost in this jobjob which was supposed to be real but was just a charade for a lie? He had to keep at it though, the act, keep pretending or he’d end up becoming the twat in the game rather than performing it, he had to hold something back.

He needed to know it, but deny it at the same time, it was a difficult balancing act. Knowing and denying, how weird, how mad, how bad this virtual reality show had become, lie on lie, a con with a con, in a con, through a con, making his part an act in an act, with an act through an act. O Gawd. .

A phone rang. He couldn’t face it. The Yanks again. But he would stay late again to answer the inevitable call, he had to keep at it, head down and wait for the Money to come. It wasn’t a question of being creative, being special it was about doing what the Money said and not step out of line, and that meant putting the Money first at the time.

‘18.25 Greenwich MeanTime’, Chris loved saying that

‘Where the fuck were the slackers. Too late to call HQ’ and it was probably pissing with rain. It was 10.25 Pacific Time where he was, the same day a clear Pacific blue sky and

Chris Froth, Global CEO to be, was getting ready for

Venture Capitalist brunch presentations down Silicon Valley.

‘Ben, have you finished the numbers? We got an hour and then the VCs in Cupertino. We need to conclude the proposition and the Powerpoint now’. Chris was, with chubby fingers, trying to select the colour for the new New

Cabbys version 5s front end. It looked superb, even if he said so himself. It was the online version for the new company, Omnifroth Inc as a working title, of which he was sole shareholder and founder, the undisputed king, emerging now to take him further on his journey. Maybe

Phoenix would have been better name he thought, ‘rising from the ashes’. No, it was too cultured, not everyone was as bright as him.

But Ben was a godsend, the techie who Chris had secretly fallen in love with, he could do anything technical and so compliant, even believed him when he suggested the 50/50 split, and he had even been to CERN where Tim Berners-

Lee, the supposed inventor of the World Wide Web had worked so in fact Ben had sat on the right hand of God.

Chris loved it; even the mention of the name CERN was enough to make the VCs almost wet themselves with

Campbell & Goldstein up the Valley at 6.30, to secure the

$1.3m seed funding then OmniFroth would be on its way.

Stuff Simon, fucking pay back for all those times being hit on the head over and over again with the pillow from the top bunk, Mummy ignoring his cries downstairs getting pissed with ‘Uncle’ Jerry. No now we’d show you mum who is the real No 1, 25mill they were going for, second round,

IPO before 2K. And if they scored he promised himself he'd get on that Rhonda bitch, the jeep lease girl and go for a ride; he loved the Yankish big hair, boobs and ass and he’d already tipped the wink to Mandy at Business 2.0 to get the profile section ready for himself, Chris Froth the first,

Founder and CEO, Hands on Visionary, Grand Navigator of the New Web.

‘Give me the fucking money. Just give me the fucking money. Cash, Now.’ Back in the UK, wet cold and now almost dark, Derek was crouched one foot forward arms out either side, bent double, desperately clinging onto his own self belief. ‘I’m not shifting until I’ve got the shittin’ cash in my hand’ he snarled at Clive standing there in front of him

368 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 holding out the P45, ‘You hear me?’ Derek added a bit of spittle on his lower lip. Was this the face of the Tommy in the sand, waiting for the Iraqis to come out of the desert night? thought Toby watching the confrontation from behind the reception desk, the TV blaring out MTV behind his head…oh, this is torture, this is pain, it feels like I'm gonna go insane, I hope you're coming back real soon,

'cause i don't know what to do…Or was he just terrified of going back to Hemel Hempstead to the wife and kid, pissed again, but this time empty handed, made redundant, out of it letting everyone down again…and the days go on and on and the nights just seem so long, Even food don't taste that good, drink ain't doing what it should things just feel so wrong, baby when you're gone…

‘I don’t know. Be reasonable, we haven’t exactly got 10,000 pounds sitting around in petty cash’ said Clive trying to retain his executive management cool, standing there one hand in his pocket but his face beginning to redden, hot with the emotion bubbling before him. ‘I’m not fucking shifting until I’ve got shittin’ cash... You work out the logistics for yourself’. It was an ego thing. Derek was protecting his one now for all he was worth, because he

369 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 knew, or sensed, that it was in fact all he was worth, it was the basis for all he did, selling, his core, the very engine of his life and they were trying to destroy it now. ‘Come on you Iraqis cunts, come on camel fuckers, let’s see what you’re made of, come on, give us what you’ve got.’

‘Go on Keith, go on my son, make her do it, make her bend over, ooh lovely what a lovely bum’ Next door to the stand off in the hallway Keith was grinning, frantically clicking the mouse on the hourglass figure of the buxom girl in shorts, standing there on the precipice of the gorge, crocodiles snapping in the water far below her. ‘Oh shit’ Keith said as she fell spiraling towards the water. ‘Same old thing eh?

Never been that lucky with the ladies have we Keithly’ said

Simon patting him on his grey quiff, ‘Ooh Kari San, me no find …’ ‘Its fucking brilliant isn’t it, best selling Videogame in the western hemisphere’ enthused Brutus, ‘movie deal on the table Charles said’, who’d popped in with some champagne to celebrate Clives first day and one step nearer to shafting the froth boys and getting Cabby in house, ‘and I’ve just bought the Company which created the interface, the designers are ready to go if you want them for Cabby’ he added, head swiveling round until it

‘Sorry to disturb you chaps’ said Clive, smiling. Ok, act nonchalant he told himself, irritated by the sweaty film forming above his lips, ‘We’ve got a bit of a problem with

Derek’. A meeting was quickly called and the executive management ascertained, after analysis and consultation, that there was a problem and it was then decided that the best solution, at this juncture, was to call Janice and ask her what was to be done.

‘…the silverback hierarchy is strict, and undue attention paid to the female brood can result in complete exclusion, the lesser males cajoled into being part of the defensive gang’ Sir David again, flicked his loose hair back above his nose smiling broadly into the camera. Tickle had switched the reception telly from MTV over to Planet Earth thinking it might keep the atmosphere a bit more calm. Derek was still smoldering sat vaguely psychotic, underneath the incongruous Screen, his Amber Alert now down to Brown, trying hard to persuade himself that everyone was running round him in a frenzy and without him the company was grinding to an inevitable halt. ..

371 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 and recent research by Dr David Cameron, a senior scientist at the Minnesota National Primate Research Center shows that female capuchins avoided eye contact with a strange monkey while also making friendly overtures. But in front of a mirror their behavior is different, as you can see they look often at their image, almost as if trying to flirt with it..’ ‘So what’s different eh? joked Tickle to Derek, trying to lighten the mood. The male capuchins, in contrast, were seriously bothered by their image Dr Cameron explained ‘Unlike Narcissus, they appeared confused and distraught by their reflections often trying to escape from the testing room.. Sir David frowned and then with a smile said directly into Camera. So what is going on in the monkeys' minds?

‘Fucking Result though eh?, if I get the cash eh?’ Derek said breaking the awkward silence in which he was feeling himself shrink ‘Probably bring the fucking company down’ he added grinning at Tickle ‘Yeh, perhaps’ said Toby, although he knew Derek was trying to get him to take his side.’ How’s the family going to feel?’ Tickle sneaked in, then regretting it. That was a cuntish like to day like Chris, the poor guy had a child, a new house on a high mortgage

372 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 in a garden suburb, almost perfect, but Toby knew things already stretched to breaking point. Wife would probably leave him, too angry to allow access to the child, and... No bollocks, fuck him, a tired voice reasserted itself inside

Tobys head, it was dog eat dog and he wasn’t getting 10K to fuck off, he had to sit around and do more of this shit before he could get out ahead, so fuck Derek and his crappy charade of a Life.

The front door opened, letting in the sound of the whooshing of buses and rain. It was Janice in a soaking black mac shaking herself and the brolly out like a wet Lab.

Her face was bright red already, so when she handed Derek the package, a brick of notes in a brown envelope, Toby could see all the emotion start to collect in the awkwardness of her mouth and the frog in her throat.

‘Here. Clive told me to give this to you and I've got the rest of your papers here’ she said handing over more envelopes.

Derek, buoyed up by Janice’s obvious upset, gave her a kiss. Janice tensed up but letting him anyway, the nun with the leper outside the quarantine zone and she scurried off inside, her eyes looking to the ceiling as Derek stood there rifling through the pink cash muttering to himself. ‘Don’t

Squaddie, just wanting to get this over and done with, ‘

Fuck it I want to go home’. ‘Alright mate, hold your horses’.

Derek was going to go with some dignity, he was determined to, but Tickle, having lost his, found himself now not really giving a toss. ‘Come on matey. We’ll see you later yeah, Good luck’ ‘Yep,’ said Derek trying to straighten himself out ‘Look Tickle it was great to work with you and all that. Ill look out for a role for you in my new company, something with a bit more security and a bit more dosh eh’

‘Yeah yeah Right sure Derek See you later’ ‘OK bye then’

‘Yeah ta ta’ and Tickle slammed the door shut. Twat.

Thank Gawd. The hall suddenly felt very empty the threat of violence removed and Toby felt distinctly odd, staring at the telly. If in doubt, the TV… ‘and the lone male without mate having been seen off is removed from the pack, recent research showing that the cells themselves may be programmed to self destruct if their value to the social unit is lost and indeed many such unfortunates, the weaker animals, are soon picked off by other predators or by disease, spending their remaining days moping around at the side of things looking on…’ It was as if he was detached

374 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 too, at a distance from himself, thought Toby watching himself perform a part, his real self having ceased to have a body. The Realness of it, this, the work, the thing, the time, was over now, he was just a clown in somebody else’s game, doing what ever the bosses said. House, Baby, Tina.

Well what did it matter, it was the dream wasn’t it?

Integrity, what’s that? Morals? He couldn’t afford them yet.

And what about Millennium Hamlet, redemption, being himself again or what he thought he once was, the comeback, what about that? It was as if there were two distinct lives one going off much faster than the other, the imagined and the actual and Toby had a foot in each doing the splits. Ouch...To be or not to be? Neutered and in- between he was now just an extra in somebody else’s play, waiting for the Money to arrive.

‘AAAOOOOORRRR WWWHHHYY IKKOOOOLL’ someone slapped him on his back. It was a gas mask, a fresh black rubber smell, and a dwarf version by its side, Simon and

Beth, two cyborg piglets heading out into the rain, ‘EYE

IKKOOOOLL SEEE OOO EEEN HEELWA’ and they disappeared into the dangerous night. Yeah, Tickle suddenly saw it clearly; in a new cold light. It was all mad, completely Potzo, but, seeing it clearly now he could, if he

Business and he knew then he could become a boss too and it was a bit of a shock, really, hearing himself say that, even to himself. Yes this was the time to do it, grab what was there, all he had to do was play the part, say the lines loudly and clearly and don’t knock over the furniture, stick to the role and a new voice told him now, that perhaps, given the company would be a bit shaky and needed to keep up the front, this was probably the optimum time to ask for a rise.

------

19.

No feature of the modern economy is more remarkable

than the volume of corporate and personal revenue that

comes from the marketing of the unknown… what is

predicted is what others wish to hear… what they wish to

profit or have some return from… hope or need covers reality...thus the financial markets celebrate, even welcome

essential error.

John Kenneth Galbraith. The Economics of Innocent Fraud

It had been just a tingling and a shift in gear, as it almost… and then, not. And then, not being sure if you had, almost, or not. The ceiling lamp of four bare bulbs in a circle didn’t tinkle but was remembered as a chandelier later and it felt like a sliding offwards the Titanic deep down again, heard, then perhaps not, only the memory of, a deep groaning…

It was dark and it was only a moment, 4.13am, just past noon UK time 11th Sept 1998 and that’s what he thought of, the time the date, a moment after the moment when he felt himself sliding off backwards thinking he’d been in a dream,

377 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 falling backwards into it his home again, although knowing it not to be so at the same time. It was if he was caught between the two moments, two lives, two continents, in two minds no balance caught on a big wave and then, there lying on Mrs. Robertson’s Guest House bed in Cod Pea Drive

San Francisco, soon to disappear he wandered down through the mangrove glades into the tectonic crack opening up below him, the unseen forces all around finally deeming that he too should be swallowed up forever in the infinite bottomlessness beneath.

EARTHQUAKE IN MARIN COUNTY Magnitude 4.3. Minimal

Damage but disruption expected, potentially a second quake on the way… Toby flicked through all the channels on

Freedom Cable, each with its own plastic presenter basically the same; white gleam teeth jabbering on about the incident at San Anselmo, the map and red circles emanating from the epicenter being revered as a matter of life and death. ‘It looks like the damage recorded to date is a smashed window at a restaurant in Millennium Mall…

Brent Cowton is at the location reporting’, torches flaring up the night, at another anonymous retail complex. Chows

Diner cordoned off with ticker tape, police officers like

378 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 extras in some made-for-TV movie, preening themselves in the background, then back to the studio to the experts one after the other talking about the possibility of the Big One, a pre-prepared sequence running behind their excitement and fear.

When will it be? The Big One? Toby wondered. More shots of the LA quake in ‘89, the Freeway twisted pasta legs gone, one lane crumpled on top of another. When will it be?

Little cars squashed like lentils between the grey lasagna slabs. When will it be The Big One? It was coming and everyone knew it, the fault would crack as the Earth shrugged its shoulders and all the busyness, the frantic pushing to become someone, somebody else, everyone pulling in dollars to stay afloat and get there, to the Future, the picture, the Vision of the great, desperate, American

Dream. When will it be, the Big One? The US of A finally wiped away, the prairies back to the shrub and crickets click click click clicking out Time in the white dust, mesquite statues and the rusting pedello creaking in the scene from which, through thousands of black and white movies not much more than a century ago, it had come.

And the forecasters continued, frantically charting past

Quakes, more maps, the big fat line of the San Andreas but none of them admitting, I don’t know, too busy qualifying their expensive forecasts and then the madness on

MUDNews 1. Hi the Big Story this morning... more loops and back to Brent outside in the drizzle in Marin County and the information cycle starting again without anything new, each time squeezing out a little more meaning from the 5 second event, the meaning of which the main ingredient, was well, fear. Oh Gawd. Tickle didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, all the fuss over a cracked window of mirrored glass at Chows Diner, the newscasts as tacky as their spoofs on Saturday Night Live, only the hysteria of the reportage making you frightened, rather than the facts of what actually happened there.

But at least it was, at last, for Toby something tangible, on this pretty pointless trip to California, the supposed reward for being the loyal servant to the Execs. VP of Global

Operations and Product Marketing and Development, was his new title and he couldn’t quite believe the 100K plus options Keith said he’d get once the funding round was in place would come but he was going to make damned sure

380 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 that he was going to cover up as many of the gaps in his new part that he could. It was the first time he’d been in a real earthquake and he felt happy that something actually real had happened, indisputable, in his Life although, now, with each new loop on the crap news channel it somehow was becoming less so. He wished it, the Quake, had been larger in a way, a proper disaster movie blowing the whole lot up, all the instability and indecision he had, the gap, his split mind, giving him a chance to start afresh, again.

He went onto the balcony to smoke a fag. A stream of headlights was being pulled across the vague presence of the Golden Gate, an anonymous mountain behind and then the Ocean, boundlessly out there. The Bridge was the top suicide spot in the world apparently; the US of A number one yet again. He remembered the lone dawn walk over a decade before, Tania having just gone and done it, the

National Enquirer at his door, wondering whether he could or should jump too but knowing really it was just another move imagined rather than filmed.

A chill in the air made him shiver now and he thought of

Tina and their future the new life about to arrive. She didn’t want him to come here, what with the Baby almost there, wanting him back home getting things prepared. It was almost biological, the family and all of a sudden he laughed, because, for the first time ever, it seemed his world had a centre, somewhere to go back to, somewhere where he, irrefutably, belonged. Without thinking he knew he wanted to be back there now and standing staring at the Bridge it was as if he was now shouting silently to them his sort of wife and baby to be from afar, willing the echo forward, onward and upward, willing the Happy Family picture postcard to become finally real.

Inhaling deeply the Lucky Strike and the damp air, he rewound his memory through the lost years of the Virtual

Nightclub, the Nothing happening in the Nothing, the rehab in the Crypt, the crazed travel show with Tania, Mexico,

Belize, Guatemala City, Honduras hell, the celluloid melting before the overheated bulb of his alky nightmare and earlier, in the supposed good years, the success, Hamlet

Evening Standard almost Hollywood, Brit Indie Best Foreign at the Golden Globe and that short, very short time when it

382 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 felt like he was doing what he was meant to, the critical voice briefly silent, when he seemed to be just enjoying being alive. Him. Life. Clear. And it suddenly occurred to

Tickle that the only other time he had any real sense of being in the right place at the right time, was when he had been pretending to be someone else on stage, the Actor, when he was inside it, the role, the person that didn’t really exist. That and total oblivion I suppose…

Whark Whoooeeeee whark whoooooeeeee whark whooooeeee, the gulls on Mrs. Robertson’s roof were competing with a cop car interweaving among the low houses near the sea front. Fuck it, America does your head in thought Tickle, so many crap movies, the thin grip on the giant land and the frantic need for more dollars made reality a question, a demand here. There was a fence around everything, even around the desert, the mesquite and pedallo in the wilderness, the crowd kidding itself it was fully in control and Tania out with another bloke for money

East Village Manhattan him coming off a heroin binge no keys, getting locked out again the emergency locksmith like

Brazils De Nero as if abseiling in, an ex marine on special ops, skeleton keys then knocking out the lock with a chisel

Shit happens Heh? and then, paid, he was gone…Did he go out the window then? It had only occurred to Toby now waking from his flashback, that none of the other tenement dwellers, as the sledgehammer was bashing down the door, had bothered even to come out and check what was going on. In America everyone was so afraid, so worried about their own security that it made it unsafe for all, everyone too afraid now to help each other out.

5.30. Another shiver. A crack of light breaking open the horizon. He had a breakfast meeting with Sky at Eight down in Blessed ‘in the Valley’; even the locals said the Valley self consciously, like the Alien which he was. He’d shower and walk a bit and try and get grounded, clear his head. Still too early and he quickly flicked through all the other channels on Freedom: Discovery, World, PBS, NBC, CNN,

Wolf, MUD 1, and with all the world to play with there was still nothing on. Buy Now on Home Choice, Buy one and get one free A pair of Gold Earrings for $22 only Buy Now on Buynow.com, the great Gary Millers shopping channel.

Some old bird selling Thai jewelry, the prices running below her like ticker tape. Buy Now Now Buy Now Shit for Suckers

Buy it Now. The ancient doll, moved gingerly in case her whole face unraveled, only kept together by paint and pins, smiling broadly with the enamel grin twinkling with steel.

Tickle told himself he should watch it, for research; ‘what happens in the States always happens to the UK next’ they always said.

In the mirror washing, Toby noticed the rash on his neck was getting red again, Hienrichs gash, it really was becoming horrible. 6 months old, that three and a half

Internet years, a long time to be a festering sore. Toby sighed checking it closer as he shaved; red purply bits beneath his ears on the neck. It was something happening, inside him, an alien sensation under the skin, the itch had become a bump, a spot and now a sore. Shit, he shouldn’t have used anothers razor, or was it from something else? It seemed to flare up when he was tired and stressed; like the

IBS, it seemed to be a barometer to his internal pain. Oh

Gawd, breakfast in BlessedVale with Sky and his team, another day of bollocks coming up. Cabby 5 had turned yellow now, he thought, wiping away the last soap.

‘Higher, Go on Higher.. That’s it my little sweety, push it through, think Janis, think Shirley, think Kate Bush, think of when the Big Man is inside you’ ‘ Stop it Simon, I’m trying really hard’ ‘ Sorry, go on. Again. You’re doing really well my baby’. Simon was in front of the mirror behind Beth in the massive marble bathroom of the Fairmont Hotel suite.

His eyes shone bright red against the harsh white enamel as he held the skinny girl by her shoulders listening to his own groin grow as she tried again to hit the highest notes.

‘Remember what Guiseppe said, the ladders in the throat, the bagpippo in the belly Si Senora? I know you can do it my little darl, I’m sure it will work’.

The singing lessons had been going on for weeks now but he had persuaded himself that with a little bit more work, he could make her a star. It’s amazing what you can do in the remix, the makeover girls his old mate Lee coming over to do something with Beths coke thinned hair and he wished she’d do the boob job, listen to him, its good PR darling’ the bigger they are. He just needed his little waifing to allow him carte blanche to transform her, the technology was available on all fronts, he wished she’d let him go the whole hog.

Virtual Sheilas, Cloning Celebs, Cyborg Stars, the projects in development Simon was pushing Stateside had a number of working titles and Beth was going to be his guinea pig in the first. How do guinea pigs mate anyhow? Fuck the acts, public loves novelty don’t they Bicky Tanks’d always said, dragging off another would-be star to bed. The point now was the Interactivity on TV, getting the public to vote, to gamble- it could be you, it could be her, it could be you, it could be him. It was a numbers game really, a racket like everything else. It was addictive and addiction was always, had always been good for the Money. Always guaranteed to get 2% of any audience to do whatever you want and even with 2% of say 5 mill x 50 cents 10 times a show, its

…urr... a lot. He just needed to persuade the shoe leather tans over at Wolf Studios that this was the Way of the

Future, before sealing it with a Way to go Dude as everyone was saying now, getting those High Fives going in honour of the Dotcom Millennium bonanza just about to come . And looking now at his next project in development he couldn’t stop himself speculating if Paulo his plastic surgeon could do anything about the skinniness of Beths tight but bony arse.

Excite, Engage, Epiphany, Tobys taxi on route 128 trundled past the posters for the giant babies of the dot com boom, mutant corporations that had ballooned so quickly into multi billion entities based only on speculation and a smart idea and, if Cabby was anything to go by, despite the nice branding and the offices around the globe, they were probably all also in fact a total mess, tentacles of the new economy spreading strife and stress like a virus throughout the world.

A light aircraft, a Cessna, was flying erratically in the morning haze, between hillocks to the side of the San

Fernando Freeway. It then turned towards Toby, did another bobble, swerved right and seemed to be heading directly for a hillside disappearing behind it out of view. The almost crash was an optical illusion really and through the tinted glass it was like Tobys own private TV show. In and out seen then unseen but knowing it was still there somewhere in the haze.

In fact, Strike, two hills away was tracking Azizs progress with a pair of binocs; he should be finished soon he thought

Pushtun could be contained, his excitement about his future glory didn’t make him crash, blinded by the vision of bathing in the hot blood of virgins somewhere nice. They just had to keep the cover a little longer, the Cabby front, and everything else was on track. Shrike’d been at DEFRA consulting for the last month, more systems for the

Operation EAGLE DIVE scenario, eavesdropping gear and Dr

Karl had him on RAD program at the KarlWeil Labs, IB project, Immortality for the Billionaires, which boded well but last night he had had to go out with that Bald exec

Tickle, to keep things sweet. It was a pain in the ass as it had interrupted finishing off the last bit of coding for the

Plan, but the Cabby façade had to be maintained even after the main event was done.

'Doomed mate. The whole thing, the system doesn’t work and will fall over, Cabbys fucked by the US. I’m telling you we’re all doomed my son’ he’d enjoyed telling Tickle practicing his new Scottish accent, practicing in front of

Dads Army on PBS and he was well pleased when Toby said he looked like Ewan Macgregor with his shaven head.

‘Sky’s just going to nick the company, isn’t he, take the

Wizmall. I mean Whatta Twat.’ Strike enjoyed seeing the little man across the table quake ‘Does he know what it means in the UK?’ had asked Tickle ‘Sky knows jack except how to surf and to sell, so he's well suited to this dot com shite; doesn’t even need drugs, he gets high just on the lying mate’. ‘Is it going to collapse before I can cash out?’ asked Tickle feeling sick and Strike couldn’t stop himself sighing at this little suckers small and selfish head, can’t he see that we were all pawns in someone elses game and come to think of it his head was the right shape for the subject they needed in the Stem Cell stuff; he should ring

Karl about a possible subject for P458x.

Tobys taxi was now passing Oracle, at San José then it was

Apple at Cupertino and the Intel at Summertown, the great global names that ran the show that ran everything else housed in more non-descript offices, industrial parklands with cost conscious low buildings, mirrored windows, stealing the bright blue from the desert sun. Blessedvale was a particularly grotty part of the Strip, or rather Valley.

It could have been anywhere on that Latitude: dry heat, the

390 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 smell of petrol and detritus, fast food joints past their sell by date and here a low slung bunker of a building that went on for two blocks. Global Division Inc, it said, so anonymous it looked it didn’t have a door; perhaps it was a sculpture just there to show who was the biggest boy in town. Glob Div.

The taxi wheeled into Tuxcedodema Apartments block, which looked half built; Short leases available. Handy if you want to make a quick exit thought Toby. Two Arabs in short sleeves and Rolexs strolled by holding hands, one laughed pointing upwards to the sky criss-crossed with jet streams from LA PAX and then suddenly spat just in front of Tickles foot and before Toby could respond, there was screaming, behind him a women in a pencil tight skirt, stilettos and shades with an enormous Dolly Parton pile of hair yelling at a window in the block. ‘Ill screw you with the lease

Muther….’ She then stuck out a single finger, jumped into the jeep and squealed off. She looked over dressed for the cloudless day and Tickle half expected someone to shout out ‘Cut’.

Everything was so impermanent here, Toby thought, instant, even places to live looked like motels. Everyone was passing through, prospectors on a gravy train trying to make a fast buck and anyway at any time it could all disappear down the Fault, the Gap, when the Big One finally came along. Oh Gawd and Toby suddenly felt a jolt of fear; they could pull the plug here on him anytime left defunct. Perhaps that’s why they got him to come here,

Keith and Brutus and Clive, so they could ‘restructure’ back home and he’d be the next mid-management death, redundancy and everything, himself, the House, the Baby,

Tina, all would disintegrate into nothing, sharp shards from a hot bulb blown.

Focus focus focus- the Object, the Vision, the Future Toby told himself; he was playing Little Boss from the UK and he had to get into role. This morning Sky was going to run through everything for Tickle, show him the US operations and outline the roll-out justifying himself and the US side in the Global Plan. But Toby felt exhausted already, jaded and sick from the jet lag, and it occurred to him that the world was in fact run by people feeling the same way, the middle aged men in dark suits always in a rush, hurry hurry hurry

----

20.

The Internet fills in all the silences of the World

Dijits

‘Hi’, ‘Hi’, ‘Hi’ ‘Hiya’, ‘Welcome Sir,’ ‘Hey Big Fella’, ‘Hail the chief’, ‘Cheers’. It was like being greeted by a bevy of paparazzi emerging from a tunnel of tinted glass, the bright smiles and steroid glares of positivity pushing the phlegm back into the bald UK exec, leaving no chance for his customary winge, a moan or acerbic remark before the business commenced; here, Toby was realizing, business was life.

‘OK my man, we’ve got it all lined up for you Tycul’, and

Sky did that irritating thing that Tickle knew he’d must have picked up from some management course (at Mind Changes they called it NVC, non verbal communication, Toby had done Executive Level 1 Advanced), coming up behind him, right up close so you couldn’t see his face but everyone else could, and then putting his hands on Tickles shoulders

Sharon Honey, can you outline the CSP of the QT in A E partnership campaign, Clients, Hits and Collateral Benefits accrued’. A Chinese American doll, two metre smile in a neat black suit, sort of Kandoo Plus, began to run through the presentation on the Powerpoint Screen, displaying click the shops, click the hotels, click the chains that had signed up to Cabby 5.2: click Pennys, Norstrom, Continental, Ziff, doing an odd thing of rubbing her purple tipped forefinger up and down with the thumb of her other hand. Soon,

Tickle, fading into an intercontinental blur, was transfixed and found himself counting the number of teeth she had above her so pink lower lip and the times she licked them with her tongue.

‘Thanks Sharon. Now Heidi’. It resembled a fashion show,

Gary Millers Me.TV morning parade back in 1994, You Got

Mail Sir, but this one was a bit bigger, a real flesh

Caucasian, short hair and bright blue eyes, the Nordic type and Tickle began to suspect that this was some sort of set up, each girl bit part actress possibly porno, having been rehearsed by Sky going through lines he’d supplied.

‘Thanks very much ladies, please be available later if Tycal

‘Now Clint, Prod Dev Review.’ A Fred Flintstone chin moved silhouetted in front of the shining terylene of the net curtain and a voice started speaking, slow and monotonously as if it was overcooked by too much sun ‘…and we are at

Milestone 8.3 … the PowerPoint chart here indicating a RAD schedule achieving 89% target alignment, which, according to the Palee Tunas model, is optimizing a return on investment of …’ the black head in front of the white sea roaring outside the darkness of the rum-hut the fisherman smiling Guatemaleese one good tooth going up and down in an unintelligible rant the surf turning to static and the curtain coming down as another blackout started, bright light then the next morning Tania, dragging him along a line of still wet blood signifying the journey of his broken head now being used as a superhighway by an army of little black ants, or maybe it was the other way round …..

‘..and SQL 7.2 has been considered as an alternative database option,’ How long had Clint been droning on for

Toby coming to didn’t know. ‘I’ve got a guy checking it out

Tycul,?’ Toby suddenly jolted up back from the Creole Sea.

‘Sure. Right of course sure carry on, Shoot yeah’ ‘Yes sir, as

I was saying we are currently running some models on the impact of option 2-7a on the RDP ...’, ‘What does that mean?’ Toby blurted out not understanding a word the boring fucker was saying but knowing it was his role to assert some sort of control ‘ RAD means Rapid

Development Program sir ’ ‘No Err Yeah of course I know that but.’ Toby sounding irritated covered himself quickly ‘I was talking in terms of the cost,’ putting on the deep slow voice again like Chris ‘ the researchers in the Valley, the engineer guy in San Jose, at what cost is this? You seem to be forgetting someone has to pay for all this you know?’

Pressure. Keep putting on the pressure. If in doubt put pressure on the others below… Management Mantra 2, exert pressure on the next level down, welcome the pressure from above, absorb it and so make yourself useful to your bosses, lightening their loads. ‘Guys, the UK hasn’t got an endless supply of Money, you know we don’t want waste and perhaps it might be construed by the Board back home that the money here is not being used for due

397 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 purpose…’ Sky jumped in with what sounded like a pre- prepared speech. ‘I assure you the economic activity and organization of Harpozo is conducted with utmost proprietary and is totally devoid of questionable activities.

Here in the US everything is transparent and democratic, we are the greatest democracy on earth enabling the capitalism system to worked at its most optimum state and this is supported by our belief in hardwork, honest dealing and decency, this current boom is proof that it works- it’s the American way I herewith verify’.. ‘But what about

Bhopal, Srebrenica, the carnage of the Baghdad highway from Kuwait eh? What was so fucking decent about that you dumbfuck surfing idiot?’ but Toby in fact didn’t say that, he didn’t even reply to Skys imperialistic tripe. Instead

Sky it was decided to have a break; Sky didn’t like things going ragged, the surf all syrupy stiff. ‘Where can I have a fag- I mean a cigarette?’ Toby asked generally. No one spoke. They just looked at him deeply concerned, as if he was sick, or an alien who hadn’t been properly debriefed and checked.

Toby went into the car park looking out for Strike; he was meant to be here and Toby could do with a bit of Brit

The haze made the scene feel unreal like a dream. Oh

Gawd Toby couldn’t wait for this to end so he could go home and get some sleep. To die, to Sleep, to Sleep perchance to dream, Ay there's the rub.. Millennium

Hamlet, where are you now? It was as if his old world, the person he thought he was hiding behind this act of being a dotcom guru, wasn’t there anymore, had fallen away leaving this , the shell and he remembered again, in the middle of the night the rumbles ,the earth slipping away beneath him. It was last night, wasn’t it? Right? He had to ask himself The Quake? Was it this morning or was the night before last? Shit he should have taken that

Melatonine Chris said would cheat Time and turn the night his body knew should there into the day and Toby suddenly felt woozy and had to lean back against the wall.

Toe bee, toe bee, toe bee Tycul Where are you Toe Bee?

Oh no those voices again, calling, echoing around the burning mirrors of the cars and again, for a moment among

399 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the richochette of voices, Tickle thought he was going to faint. Toe bee toe bee Tycul toe bee No, not this again, he thought, he hadn’t had a panic attack for almost 3 years, there hadn’t been time. But it was Sharon, the first blond running over to him breathlessly ‘Mr Tycul, Toe bee, Sir, the UK's on the phone Come quickly’, and Toby sensed then, that with even her smile having gone, there was in fact something genuinely wrong...

------

21.

..There is one thing worse than unrequited love and that’s

no love at all...

Stendhal on Love

OOOOO RRRRR… The spiders were climbing up the wall, pulling themselves up by ropes and feet that seemed to have magic traction, though one, a girl, her pony tail a wild bit jiggling off the skin tight lycra, suddenly seemed to loose her footing and slip down…Oh No…OOOOO RRRRR… but she regained her balance quickly, making it look like it was part of the act.

OOOOO RRRRR… the heads craned upwards, bobbling multicultural faces all looking at the blank wall on which the acrobats were doing their stuff, shouting into one another’s ears trying to be heard above the earsplitting MLF techno thrust. Only a few of the crowd, although they were almost all 20 somethings, were really going for it a couple of receptionists even attempting to dance, but most were

401 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 looking on one foot back, detached, spectators to spectators, as if they were only there to be accounted for by Mrs Wilcox from Human Resources, Extras in the story about a story they were starring in, Barrys Millennium

Christmas Party, another one of the Companys Reality TV shows in development; The Boss and the Girl form room 21 and in this one it was mandatory to have a good time, or else be voted out.

OOOOO RRRRR…the acrobat slipped again doing a backward somersault righting herself onto the white Screen as if it was a joke and again Tickles gut lurched. He wasn’t there at all but his neck hurt from the craning, his collar catching the little shingle sores. It too had slipped, he was thinking, slipped from the womb wall and with outstretched yearning unable to keep a hold, it had rolled, almost imperceptibly into itself and then down to the bottom of the

Well to die.

It was over a year now, the miscarriage in Blessedvale and it could have been a day or another thousand years more.

The Future had imploded, its picture melting as the horizon

402 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 had crumpled in on itself. A jumbo jet orange burning in the evening sun dragged a cold shadow over Toby as he lay curled up in Lot 21, Section C, Car Park Purple South side

San Fran Terminal B, crying as if it was his life that had rolled away, the point of it, real real eye T, the reason why he was there at all in the very first place. He saw it was wrong, all that promise loaded onto the Baby, the Child becoming the meaning of his Life and now in the hole remaining had flooded in the Fear. Fear for the emptiness of his own existence; Fear of the fraud to which he was now an accomplice, the false numbers and the self serving machinations with other peoples money; Fear that this

Tower of Illusions, his own and the worlds, would inevitably fall down in tears, leaving him nothing but this well of fear about his life with Tina, if it could go on now, without the

Future they had both imagined, the old picture postcard they had agreed they’d both wanted now shredded, leaving her in bits and him as just a shadow of what he thought himself could be. O Gawd. What would happen without the third one, the Other, the Baby, the Love they could share outside themselves? Could they now be together just him and her alone with nothing to cement them? It was now just them, Face to Face, no could be, will be, should be,

Toby’s throat was constricted and aching, shouting out in the chorus of approval, whistles, heckles and yahoos that the young hip media crowd judged to be the smart thing to do, but only one, Debbie from Book Finance heard it, the howl of anguish somewhere in the voices there, that man alone, ‘isn’t it the weirdo from IT guy?’, OOO RRRR

YYYYYYY…..his scream disguised as a cheer?

The spider performance was over and the hall was turning into a disco. Groups gathered around tables, others hugged in around the bars, the ultraviolet light making them look ghostly with teeth slashed bright. He should be excited too

Toby told himself; the Millennium around the corner, Cabby

6.3 finally coming out, having been sort of parked at

Bartone for almost a year broiling in the pre Millennium hype and he might, (although he was finding it increasingly hard to convince himself), happen, he’d get the carrot he’d dreamed of for the last 10 years. And what then? Was it worth it? He wasn’t sure what he’d find when all the

‘Neurotics build castles in the air and Psychopaths live in them’ Jonathan Miller had said on the radio last week.

Yeah, but what if what if he didn’t get it either, the money or the Baby what then? Left with nothing, flat. Would he become just another oddbod casualty of the dot com boom?

It had been in the News last week another tragi-comedy, journos jealous of the IT geeks quick riches, so liked and

Toby had imagined himself playing the part of the Day

Trader in the made-for-TV movie no doubt in development already, sitting there in his LA bunker basement, (or den as they called it over there, gambling his shares 24/7 365 ), then one day going too far, wipe out and blinking as he walked into the sunlight, in his Bermudas and Hawaiian shirt, feeling only hate as he pushed open the door of

Momentum Investments Inc, pulling out his 45 magnum and, without a thought, all dried up killing one by one, the whole office, then sticking the barrel in his Mouth. IT,

Dotcom, what fun.

Feeling queasy Toby found himself looking for her again, wondering where Tara was. He had sort of expected to bump into her, as if it was meant to be, that almost would be what if in his belly, that sensation he called the magic of lurve that been growing since his first moon at the New

Year drink after work. She worked in Bartones A&R and had a little dog. She wore funny hats and always looking like she’d just got out of bed. They’d meet in the lift and she’d always smiled at him. Toby had been fantasizing about her for almost a year, his unrequited love he called it and he knew it was dangerous; but fuck it, it was better than no love at all as someone famous had said. Nada at home.

Since the miscarriage a gulf that had opened up between him and Tina, and it was as if it left enough space for him to escape into, to dream in and it was as if his vagrant love was trying to find a home but, essentially virtual, it was fixed on an object slightly out of reach.

‘Two bottles of Mineral please. Please quick’ Tickle needed a piss; the trouble about teetotalling is endlessly wanting to piss. ‘Hiya, alright Tickle, Havin' a good time?’ Was it her?

No, only Janice. She was covered in glitter with a sparkly hair-band, furry bobbly things either side, the ultraviolet

‘Two Barcadi Breezers please and have one yourself darling’ she shouted at the Aussie Barman ‘Here Ticks, have you seen me piccies,’ all pissed and familiar ‘of the holiday like?

I got ‘em back this morn’ she said pushing up close to

Toby, squeezed in by the rush for drinks between songs.

Janice had just got back from Mexico, ‘ only 333.99 lastminute.com 20% off … Look that’s the bloke I pulled,

Dorton, like Donny, from Salt Lake City- very clean living if you know what I mean. Look there she is, Denise the old slapper, we were doing tequila slammers all night, got completely arse-holed I can tell you, though what happened next I can’t,’ she howled, 'cept Denise broke her ankle and we had to fly home two days early what a shit. Look there, that’s Dorton. He was alright,’, she said quieter, suddenly wistful, ‘we had a good time that night too, a right laugh, but then he disappeared the next day’ and she looked away turning her head up towards the darkness of the rafters above, the sparkling lights catching the fluid at the bottom of her eye. ‘It was great though. We got rat arsed for the best part of a week’ she turned back to Toby again smiling,

‘you gotta laugh haven’t you’.

‘I’m not sure, Elizabeth, he does seem to be rather over

407 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 familiar with the staff... .’ ‘I know Bruty my dear but really he only needs to say his lines, keep up the story and everything will be fine. He was an actor once for Gods sake’ she asserted. ‘Anyway, I’ve got Edgar at Workfinkel and

Wressel coming over tomorrow to go through the Numbers again. OOOOORRRR… Henry bloody hell…’ the baby was clawing at her teat with a claw like hand ‘Remember, Bruty, we pull off the Infinity deal and Eddy is sure the 25 mill won’t be a prob, for Fanatics and everything else. Gawd, the bloody baby needs another feed. Blast.’

Brutus couldn’t help himself but look longingly at the massive bosom as it came out to feed Henry, the big boy baby grumpily giving Mummys friend an ugly glare with one eye sidewards. Brutus was jealous; Eliza had three others and seemed to have the Board in her pocket and the City in her sway, he couldn’t even impregnate Sophie, (they had had to resort to IVF, she was in Barcelona now, fresher eggs apparently, another fucking 8K), and he felt even more just Elizas little lackey, her go-for-it boy, Gramps would have been bewildered how one of his.. blah Yiddish blah. Brutus had his Plan though and recently he had begun drip feeding doubts through to Barry and the other big boys, about it not being quite right having a woman,

408 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 especially with a new born and all those hormones flying about, at the top of a Footsie 150 company. After all she hadn’t even informed the board until well after 26 weeks, and it had been scientifically proven, the Molane Business

School in Denver having just published a closed circulation report about rational judgment being impaired by specific neurological movement in the female brain... After Eliza had secured the loan from the City for marketing Fanatics.com, equisemen.net, the horse breeding site and the rest, he’d move in hard for the kill, prick the balloon so to speak, the bitch who’d for the last 18 months had been treating him like a geek yeah he’d murder the sow and with

OOOOORRRR… to the baby Brutus, his thumb and forefinger like a beak, then winkled Henrys little pug nose stuck onto his snarling face.

The Executive Management Millennium Nativity scene was being played out in the corner of the huge round building, the candlelight showing Brutus’s intense expression in stasis as Elizabeth sat Empress-like wrapped up in a silk and cashmere pashmina, twinkling with diamonds in ears and banded across the top of her head. ‘Yes, a tiara my dear, nothing like a bit of bling as my friend Saul at

409 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 r&b.com says’ and she laughed out loud, making Henry splutter all over her massive breast. ‘ Do you think the buggers going to bite’ asked Brutus, ‘ Oh yes certainly,

Golden I mean Infinity, are determined to by Christmas Eve

– Santas been gagging to get in with Barry, our olde media company will make his new economy thingy look good, particular a Footsie 150 with a bit of a pedigree. Let’s face it, Moore needs all the cred he can get to keep his balloon blowing up’ and she leaned over in a whisper, as if she didn’t want the baby to hear. ‘Really, Bruttie my dear, the whole thing is one big global con don’t you know, my dear we just have to make sure we’re not rumbled before we get out ahead of the game; that’s why we are call the smart money for gawds sake, that is what the Game is really all about’. Brutus wilted before the grand city ladies superior knowledge and suddenly felt frightened if his plan was going to work with the Big Balls of the Great Tiger feeling as if the were suddenly over-exposed.

There was then a commotion at the door. Big Baz had arrived with a bevy of PAs and the top one, the Executive

Assistant, Patricia head to toe in leather and fur, then Des the FD who’d been with Barry since the start and couple of

410 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 board directors, KOK smiling smoothly buttoning up his double breasted in preparation for the event, Garthside sort of bent behind him and Sir Something Somebody, a lawyer who had access to No10, still supposedly Making Things

Better Wow o wow and there is Jeremy Glow, News

Presenter and media god with a face of polished leather and a china plate grin screwed in tight. A couple of flash bulbs exploded and then the entourage swept through, Barry glad-handing everyone who had the nerve to say Hello.

‘I’d better go and pay homage’ said Eliza, ‘Come on Bruty, remember what I said, Management Mantra No 3, always get in there and show your face’ and she chivvied her now rather chubby executive terrier along to canoodle the Boss.

The hot air was resounding with an excited wanting coming from the voices and the pumping fun of Gary Glitters inevitable Christmas anthem,

Come On Come On

come on in join the fun

it's Christmas time for everyone

No doubt the DJ leaving Slade and they only know its

Christmas till the very end.

Poor Gary, thought Barry, another old mucker hitting the dust, or shit more like. Last week Gary had been banged up inside for a month after pleading guilty to possessing

Internet porn on his PC. F**king Peado, String him Up was the tabloids line and people wanted to ban the song, but

Barry had said Fuck off, it had earnt Bartone millions. It was a pity Paul was drunk when he signed the original deal, for him at any rate and Barry had had to refuse the recent begging letter from his lawyers, Business is Business sorry mate, he’d even scribbled a personal note, but he was damned he was going to get prudish and ban the Anthem, after all Paul wasn’t the first rock star who’d gone off the rails, the Internet, little girls, booze drugs, all addictions for artists, same as the rest.

Tickle stood leaning against the corner of the bar sipping his 5th water watching the Great Man Barry, staring at his

Tribe inside the dome and wondered what was he thinking, whether they were same as us, the Bosses? Or were the

Money people actually different, biologically more developed, more equipped for the Jungle of a different genetic strain? Tickle had been into the Presidential Office

Bartone building. It was more like a museum really, or perhaps an altar, to Barrys life. All his toys were there including a full blown Harley, long black buckskin sofas, signed pictures of Barry with footballers, Muhammad Ali and also the Queen when he got his CBE and a Scaletrix racing track going around the edge of the suite. Above hovered a helicopter that apparently, at the beginning,

Barry had taken onto the roof and spent hours playing with it, after lunch everyday, for months and occupying one whole brick wall was a stuffed Condor its wings outstretched. Cabby was just another toy really, thought

Tickle, this thing that is actually killing me 18 hours day, apon which I am dependent for my House, Baby and Wife, my life in fact but is just there for a bit Rep massage and to help Barry keep an eye on son, Dirk, who again had gone

AWOL, last month, the third time in the last four months.

Someone had mentioned Marrakech. Death is the shadow of life, Dirk had whispered creepily to Tickle before he disappeared. Death is the shadow of life, coming up behind you and into his sore ear Death is the shadow of life was all he said, like a mantra, stoned as usual, wandering around the Bartone building all day, as if putting people off who

Toby’s head was now throbbing with the Bass Beat and he suddenly felt very alone and looked for Janice but she had gone off chasing Michael from Accounts and hadn’t come back. She’d already decided it was not going to happen with this one either but it was all good for a laugh in the dark.

‘And anyway he’d promised to introduce me to Hunglikea..’ she’d said excitedly before being sucked back into the drunken crowd which was now being drawn towards another flashbulb mob at the entrance as another sort of star arrived. Roddy was Bartones in-house TV celebrity although he was B list really, if not C in the larger world. At

Bartone he sometimes spilled into the Canteen looking exhausted hung over and hangdog, fagging on Red Top

Extra Strength, a gaggle of girls around him with clipboards and big felt pens.

Fucked aristo, a painter and decorator sort of, rumours of

Di, rehab and the Crypt, doing up big houses in Notting Hill for his smart media friends. Trinny, partner of Guy, an old friend from school, was a producer at Bartone TV and it

What not to do- DIY Hell because Tommy Rayn the oddjob cockney who did it usually, had just had a nervous breakdown over leaving his wife for his PA. As it turned out

Roddy had done brilliantly, still buzzing on the previous nights red wine and speedball being a right laugh a TV natural, they said, particularly in the wallpaper sequence joking with the giggling guest housewife about being hung like a horse. It was all over the tabloids the next day, getting everyone saying it, the workplace mantra for a week, hey mate check the horse, from brickies to barristers, the Mirror even setting up a hotline ‘What size is

Roddy? 50p a call although no one ever actually found out.

Soon Bartone was inundated with requests for more Roddy, brands like Whoppa Burgers and Magnum demanding more of him to put between their adverts and then there was the guest appearances, the Superstore car park openings and all of a sudden Roddy was driving to Hendon in a new V8 estate, gratis from Audi, two WAP mobiles beeping with more offers, a fresh Celeb being like Elixer, everyone wanting a bit of it before it went off. Suck it quick, get in while its clean and cheap, tie-in on tie-in, Bartone Books,

Video, Radio, TV and Brutus had even got him selling

Flashbulbs now lit up giant gesticulating shadows on the brick wall as the celebrity throng came around the edge of the huge round shed. The Honourable Rod with his possy of admin girls and awkward Dads trying to get in there to receive his autograph for the kids and the wife, wink wink.

Roddy stood, a head above most of them, smiling big- mouthed dispensing goodwill and success, a beacon amongst the ordinary people. He looked almost doll like, the trademark fuzzy blond hair so well-delineated, a TV caricature of himself but ‘Excellent for shifting product’ as

Brutus put it, instantly recognizable silhouette imprinted on the TV brain everyone thinking they knew him intimately, the Big Brand sneaking inn on the back of that friendship so they could get right up inside you close.

I know you’ve deceived me, now here’s a surprise

I know that you have cause there’s magic in my eyes

I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles

oh yeah

Who? Was that ye olde ancient, the Who? the track was blaring out memories of his happy teenage years but

Roddy, under the TV gloss was feeling very very tired, knackered in fact. His natural joie de vivre, having been replaced by his old mate Charlie was exhausted and he felt permanently as if he was on Autodrive. His witty and weird one-liners now had to be scripted, felt awkward and forced and Roddy being dyslexic, wasn’t that good at reading lines so the chat show, Horsetalk produced by Bartone for Live 5 was torture and everyone except the bosses knew it was going to be a total flop. Roddy the Red Nosed Reindeer was now his secret handle and the show was simply beyond him, it wasn’t as easy as it seemed on the Box.

The thing was, thought Brutus looking from the Boards table on the balcony down his own long nose at the throng, the thing was to get as much out of them, these minor

Celebs as soon as you can, before the inevitable decline when you bung ‘em on Freedom TV Channel 101, leaving space for even fresher Celebs to be forced on. It wouldn’t be long before they had tradeshow and markets for Celebs both Ready to go, Vintage or Used and what with Sheila, the Virtual Reality Pop up Girl Simon Fuckface was

417 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 supposedly making, you’d soon be able to order a Celeb bespoke online. Brutus sighed. Yeah it wasn’t a problem the talent, didn’t really need people anymore, the ‘art’ was easy, all programmable, it was the Users and getting them interacting that was the only art left. Numbers Numbers

Numbers Numbers that’s all that matter, as Gramps always said, pile 'em high and sell 'em cheap, make the fuckers reduce their World to the one on Screen then make 'em feel they'll loose it if they don’t use, interact, make ‘em they’ll be left with nothing if be they don’t pay up. Yeah, users, clients, consumers, befuddled by choice, hyped up by ads and jacked up with all too available credit as his

Exec MBA dissertation so succinctly said, the final piece of the jigsaw to make 21st century capitalism omnipotent is ecommerce informed by intimate knowledge of the user through ubiquitous access to the World Wide Web. Brutus smiled at last, feeling glad he’d abandoned that sculpture course and taken the other course, even though that was when the trouble had started with Sophie, but eh, grinning tightly at Elizabeth squeezed in too tightly beside him so he was almost pushed off the seat, the party is not over until the fat lady sings…

I know you’ve deceived me, now here’s a surprise

I know that you have cause there’s magic in my eyes

I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles

oh yeah

The sounds of more rock royalty, another old mate Pete, made Barry smile, as he heard the Money going clink clink clink into the bank. More royalties each time it was played; royalty on royalty, so to speak, point on point as the smartass say. Fuck you Electrobux he still had the publishing, so there and if you had the artist it didn’t matter how it got out to the folk, even through this net stuff he didn’t really get. ‘The Internet will be replaced by Religion,

Man’ old Pete was quoted in the Pink One last week; just because he was 60 and still with us Pete was now seen as some sort of guru rather than the fucked up narcissist he and all the other artistes was. ‘The Internet will be replaced by Religion’- what the fuck did that mean anyway?

There was a general move to the dance floor happening and

Barry knew that he was now obliged to go on it and flap around. That was the point of the Christmas party really, a few hours with the shutters down, sort of, the ordinary

419 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 people let out of their compartments for a moment to be who they were the hierarchies discarded till dawn, and then, come morning, regrets and alka zelter putting the lid back on, screwed tight with targets and accounts for another 12 months. ‘Come on, Baz’s on the floor’ Tickle heard one of the Receptionists say ‘Be a laugh seeing the

Fat Cunt dance’.

Oh my lovely darling

I’ve hungered for your touch a long

Lonely time. Time goes by so slowly..

A whooping came up from the crowd at the start of the instant vampire classic, marketed as a piece of nostalgia already after only a year, Jackson & Ray, courtesy of Simon says when he was A&R at Bartone began billowing out between the drapes. It was the snog song, where traditionally there was going to be interdepartmental throng of happenings and mishaps, as the stars whirled around above the darkened dance floor, where not so long ago there were human spiders climbing up the wall.

Was Simon here? worried Tickle, Janice said he had been seen lurching around Bartone TV trying to sell Virtual Pop

Stars Live to the Bartone execs. ‘It’s the Way of the future,

420 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the way of the future, the way of the…’ he kept on saying to them, over and over again, going on and on and on until they’d finally said Yes to the Pilot, just to get him to fuck off out of their face. Toby needed another piss, after ten

Bartone Minerals he was bursting. ‘Are you alright mate?’ said the Aussie barman as Tickle stood stock rigid and uptight. And again suddenly, as if in another time zone, he felt very alone, cold stone sober as the party moved to its drunken climax and the pre requisite disarray. Where is she? Tara? He needed to latch on to, even the fantasy.

Perhaps tonight was the night? On the dance floor, in the drapes, corners and against the back wall, the frenchies were in full flow, couples rolling around the curtains out of the dance floor than back in again, groping each other in uncomfortable postures, always one with an eye open over the shoulder, scanning the observers who were going to spread the story the next day, feeding the office gossip for another year minus a day. Shit, he thought, as if being affected by the sexual gases issuing from the desirous mass, he could really do with a fuck.

Toby and Tina were not really at it much now, the shame and pain around the Miscarriage making it, the act, carry

421 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 too much weight; it was if the body had become the scene of the crime which made them both guilty. O gawd, would they ever have another try? Or another baby? For them they had become inextricably mixed. They’d lie there, at discordant angles either side of the big bed, each at their own edge looking outward at their own particularly sea, groping for some hope, some new horizon, an unseen future somehow made discernable in the darkness there.

Ashamed as he was he’d begun, secretly, to wait till Tina was asleep and then get into his own adventure with Tina, his erection like a toy soldier let out on parade, exercising in those old times of passionate lovings the pushing and the pulling swimming with the fishes and then increasingly Tara had been replacing the fact of his sort of wife, there as just the Other, open, forgiving, all giving without the history and recriminating whispers disturbing the fantasy perfect pictures beautiful, fulsome and all involving the loving like a dance in a trance finally becoming One.

It was a relief, but it was a swindle really; relieving the pain, getting the pleasure but without the Other, others, it was the baseline addiction, a sick self love. Little wanker the voice said again, Shedding the seed gives the power

422 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 away the Hindus had said and they didn’t even screw but, for Toby, it felt more a defeat that all that energy wasn’t being used to build the real thing, a love, a baby, a life.

Bollocks, it wasn’t meant to be like this, why was it Love, so difficult and why wouldn’t they stop the fucking doubts, in him and her, the doubts about the house, the job job and at base about them, about this act of just being normal, ignoring the real inside, the suspicion that somehow even if he did get the money it wouldn’t work out. He kept pushing them down, as she did, the doubts that he was living the entirely wrong life, she was living with the wrong man but the effort was getting harder like keeping a lid on an

Earthquake and he was becoming increasingly convinced that something would get him, the heart, the stroke, the cancer that would hit him if he didn’t work it, the doubt, out soon enough.

O gawd, a Catch22 wasn’t it? Tobys gut tightened. And it must be frightening for Tina to be with someone who was so unsure of themselves, when there wasn’t much trust in her in the first place. And staring out at the sea of heads bobbling under the multicolored lights Toby sighed into him self.

But feeling awkward Toby tried to defend him by deciding

Tinas lack of trust was in fact the real reason for his doubt her doubt the real reason for his. All those years waiting behind the net curtain for Dad not to turn up again and not, the Man, all men, becoming in her Life her Psyche always unreliable, unsafe, bad. Fuck it, he then decided, trying to off load his shame, in fact whatever he did, wouldn’t make her and anything else change.

------

22.

I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot: I

would thou wert cold or hot.

So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor

hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.

Revelation 3: 15-16

Twang the elastic snapped as Buzz Lightening shot off the side table and flew up over the sofa shouting Infinity and beyond and then round past the fire and down Dugga

Dugga Dugga Dugga, spittle flying out of the little boys face going red intently focused on the coming combat as the

Bombardier Superman circled up high again around the pirate ship and, as if to get a better view hovering for a moment, a flicker of the Devil in little Johnny’s eye taking a big gulp of air and then down down down again Dugga

Dugga Dugga Dugga his high voice getting louder and louder as the plane did a Kamikaze smash right into the side of the plastic pirate ship t’smithereens, t’smithereens,’

Johnny shouting and the little boy with the wide face and curly hair looking like Jamie Oliver going amok, kicking apart stamping the plastic ship bits flying everywhere

425 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 stomping on Captain Hook and his crew Johnny getting redder and redder, Dugga Dugga Dugga Dugga, t smithereens screaming high-pitched beginning to hyperventilate raging at his imaginary pain being multiplied by News 24 on the TV behind him the Toy Story video having ended and again in a white desert the women and children crying out, scarved faces imploring with open hands, the camera lingering on the smoldering ruins of their bombed out houses behind, ‘allied commanders apologized today for the collateral damage of the Spring bombing campaign as hundreds of Kosovans have to deal not only with injury and low supplies but some of the worst snows in living memory’’…

‘Oh Johnny Johnny how could you? What’s going on? Come on Johnny what did I say about other peoples houses. OH

GAWD have you been drinking that Bartone Mineral shit?

Johnny What’s going on?…’ Ellen huffing and puffing busied herself getting all the debris together again, another skirmish in the constant battle to contain the unruly boy.

‘Bloody boy Come on Johnny, quieten down and come next door, come and sit with me, Tina and Alisha ’; ‘No I don’t want to’ ‘ No, yes, no come on we need to clean up, now

Johnny all this shouting, just like bloody dad. A bull in a china shop Come on Darling’ ‘NO I don’t want to” ‘Come on, calm down...Stop acting out’. It wasn’t clear if she was talking to herself or her five year old boy. Ellen was frazzled and more than a little confused having been next door smoking spliff and drinking wine with Tina in a sort of pre

Christmas party, Alisha back from Australia and it was a bit of a Hen doo really, all in their way putting the world to rights. ‘Oh come on Johnny don’t be a spoilt sport’ ‘No I want to stay here, I’m not coming’ ‘Oh yes you are” ‘Oh no

I’m not...’ ‘Oh yes you are…’

The pair of old rock chicks in the kitchen next door couldn’t hear the homegrown panto, as Tina and Alisha were busy talking about themselves in a forest fire of cheap Hackney skunk. Alisha was in full spout, loud and Aussie direct ‘and there was this fucking farmer in Canada, Saska

Shash..Sasasha’, her tongue getting caught up in the S’ss

‘Fuck it, Canada, and fuckin Monsanto in the next farm patented this apple it took over his field and then they said they owned the fuckin crop and there was nothing he could do about it, poor sod, farming there for 30 fuckin years his lovely apples gone, the shits there was nothing he could do’

427 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 and Alisha was really angry about it but, then, she suddenly stopped and said, quietly matter of fact, ‘Nature will fuck us all up though in the end, you’ll see. We’ll mutate, all die and Nature will take over again and regenerate’ and sighing she added ‘It’s Natures Revenge you know, the Ozone hole over NZ..’. ‘Yeah, Gawd’ said Tina realising something serious had been said ‘The fuckers’ Alisha screamed again,

‘they’re even trying to get hold of the core DNA for wheat…

Soon the Conglomerates will own all the Worlds fucking bread’.

‘That’s shit. Bastards’ agreed Tina, although she couldn’t quite get her head round Alisha’s new anti GM thing.

Narcissism and Intimacy her head was full of, her latest counseling course set text. Isolation and Alienation that was what it was all about really, those caused people to be shits and Tina assured herself that her own mission was to sort out the world but one to one not many, she’d leave the political campaigning to Alisha. Change happens in the little things not the large her Mum always said.

Last night Tina’d been doing the Samaritans, Midnight to four, the shift she really liked, when the real fuck ups came out of the woodwork and it made her feel good, the happiest since the miscarriage, being part of the great unhappiness out there far bigger than her and by helping, it made her feel she belonged, fully alive in the Big Hell.

Paul had rung again; Peado Paul the women had joked in their tea break. It was almost every night now and she and him has got to first names terms although you weren’t really meant to. ‘You know what I’d like to do Tina, don’t you, swivel 'em so small and cuddly, around on me twizzle stick like, how about you? Would you like a go hey Tina?

How tall are you anyway, would you like to dress up in little girls clothes would you, eh darling?’ Another one of the sad

– they all had gone wrong, perverted before they knew it, early childhood or even before Tina was now sure of that.

Poor things she now thought of her would be babies, and the fraught nature with Toby hearing herself wonder if they weren’t even meant to have been born. ‘Yes Paul we’ve been here before haven’t we?” she said trying to keep a calm moderated tone; the aim was not be threatening, get them to come out of themselves. ‘Now Paul, why are you calling, How are you feeling?’ Unconditional listening, get them to own their feeling that was the point, not to judge-

429 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 we are all looking for love after all. The lust for children is the crying out for the dead child inside, the despair acting out…the book said and then, suddenly, Tina felt like crying again, herself, about hers, and she did suddenly collapsing into herself.

‘Oh Tina Darling don’t worry” said Alisha, wrapping her arm around her sobbing friend. It always happened unexpectedly, just feeling empty, inside, awfully sad. ‘It’s alright. Come on, come here’. Tina just wanted to be held by anyone really, but most of all by Toby the other half of the loss. But he didn’t, he couldn’t, he never hugged her anymore, not once since it had happened. It seemed he was still so angry; about it, the death, not her she knew that, almost, and she knew he was working very hard trying to make it right again, get the money for her to feel safe again, secure enough to try again for another baby.

But she couldn’t kid herself- she no longer felt safe with him, of that she was now sure and he was never here anyway, just working, always, around the clock working, coming home tired and stressed and although he said the carrot was for her she sensed he was drifting away into a different world all together which the carrot would just

430 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 confirm. No, she sobbed, they hadn’t grieved together at all, it seemed they were in it separately, the loss and their individual griefs taking them each in a different direction, each to a totally different place. O gawd.

'Mummy, Mummy why is Tina crying Mummy?’ Johnny was very concerned and went to hold onto Ellens leg, his Mum standing there looking at the two women holding each other up. Order order in the quiet a distant Radio could be heard. Yesterday in Parliament…..Cunts Alisha mouthed but there was no laughing. It was 11.30. Ellen needed to get back and Tina broke from Alisha and turned round again to hold her arms out to Johnny, hands open, only worried that he was worried. ‘Goodbye darling dear’ she said hugging him, tears now streaming down both of them, face to face.

‘Fucking cunt’ he said to himself, he felt like shit, so uncomfortable in himself he wanted to scream; he just had to get out, change his life. Toby was moving slowly through the drunken throng thinking of Tina but trying to find Tara again. She looked a bit like Tina but smaller, lighter and she had, being single, a happy go lucky sort of air so attractive as an anecdote to Tinas heavy despair. In fact

Tara was a composite of all the opposites to all Tinas faults; a holiday from his life and every time he saw her, across the canteen, coming out of a lift, his heart jumped and then she’d smile he felt like he’d been blessed. Yes, there was another life out there away from the torture of his shame, the guilt over the damaged mate, the gap left by the missing child and it seemed to be the natural remedy to the relationship with Tina now corrupted by all that garbage the

Anger and Sadness still unsaid and unshared. Lots of people did it, wasn’t it par for the course, move on from the grief and start again? It kept you going as well, Tara something to focus on another life, another future, a place apart where increasingly Tickle imagined he wanted to and in fact was meant to be living in.

Wish you were Here, he’d already constructed it, the life, it took him about a day from that moment when his stomach had leapt, the colour of the sheets, the two girls, the house in the country, a little pad in town, laughter and intimacy both not drinking, both loving the countryside, both trusting the other, basically everything obverse to Tina and the Life he already had. It was beautiful, the fantasy film was almost complete and there was a bit of him that began to

432 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 dread actually meeting Tara at all, afraid to disturb the picture postcard he had already painted, to find out it wasn’t really real and it would never ever happen, ad to have to wait and see what actually did. Toby wondered then if he actually preferred living with the sweet and sour feeling in his gut, the pangs of deprized love, an unrequited longing, the almost becoming but not quite, the virtual reality of an imagined life, not living it just hoping to have it, the life, later on. To be or not to be…Is that what his gravestone epitaph would be?..It’s just a rehearsal isn’t it? .

Shit he had to get out, home, anyway but here.

Twenty first century here we come

Good Luck for the Next Millennium

from Barry and all the board at Bartone plc

The large banner was hanging from the rafters, across the entrance or exit, depended which way you were going. The

Millennium three weeks away and enforced expectation filled the air, people thinking they should be excited but not really sure why really snarled Tickle to himself, except there would be a New Year party a bit bigger than there was last year? We’re gonna really push the boat out this time the wankers would say, and of course all were expected to be

433 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 good to their neighbour for at least another day. But underneath he knew, under the party urge all pissed lingered an insipid fear of the Year 2000, the Millennium

Bug, the nightmare of everything stopping and planes dropping out of the sky. Total System Breakdown, the experts had christened it in the States. Strike had told him it was in fact just another corporate con, hidden inside the bigger one, to get people to buy more IT gear, and couldn’t stop himself thinking if in fact his life was about to breakdown not the PC, perhaps the fear was in fact more personal, individual but multiplied into a mass market wave, each person having to face up to Time, their own, of what hadn’t been, what will, and what in the end Time meant. End of. Death. It was the same as at every New

Year, perhaps that’s why everyone got so drunk; but this year it was the Millennium, the Big One, the date so nailed into everyone head that it filled each with a panic, that New

Year feeling increased two thousand fold to the point that now it couldn’t be suppressed, oblivion was beyond us all now it seemed. This time Time cried out for Change, too loud to be ignored. Death is a shadow Dirk had said, over and over again and Toby now began to think he knew what he meant.

Barff, Barff, Barff; someone was throwing up in the corner of the bog, the acrid tinge making Tobys nostrils tickle and twinge. The floor was awash with sodden fags, wet toilet paper crushed beer cans and Toby breathed out long and slowly as he let go of the bladder again. It wasn’t so bad, he could hold out at the party for a little longer, he didn’t want to be seen to skulk away. He just had to hold on a little bit longer. Janice had said there were rumours that the Cabby was getting sold to Santa Moores Golden and then they’d all get some bunce, enough to get out of this shit, he just had to hold on a little longer, make everything tidy, cover up the cracks so they could flog it before the all the code collapsed.

Toby looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was very pale in under the harsh light of the toilet, camouflaged almost not there against the white tiles behind. Bleached skin unholidayed for fours years now, 28 Internet time, black purple bags around his eyes and all those hours on the Screen exacerbated no doubt by the IBS. The eyes were washed out, the look he hated in others, sort of anonymous, bloated too. Heinrichs sore had crept above his hairline on his neck, red and scabby, which even the polar neck wouldn’t cover; maybe it was the cost of being

435 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 executive management, thinking back to Simon Jones pockmarked skin. Tickle was Managing Director Designate now though the salary was still a promise and he felt half triumphant and half exposed as everyone else had left, all paid off now to keep their mouths shut and be an ally rather than a foe.

Had Cabby taken them all to where they wanted to go?

Keith and Helen or so Janice had said, were setting up a beauty clinic in Palm Springs, home of ole’ blue eyes and lots of other almost dead people playing golf. Harpozo Inc had been sold to Sky for a quid but was in stasis, not doing anything except being constantly puffed up by Sky, still walking around Silicon with his Starlink ‘contract’, hoping to hitch a ride on the shoulder of a giants IPO. Strike, or so

Janice said, had even sold off the old computer equipment and gone off with Aziz to Saudi on holiday. ‘You know, check out Armageddon before it blows’ he’d said mysteriously in an email to Bez. ‘Security not ecomm matey, that the next big thing for you for sure. I’m into stem cells, memory and immortality’s my gig now, so see you in Hell’. The Froths, Pinky and Perky has Janice called them, had been officially resigned ‘to pursue other

436 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 interests’, sacked really but still with shares paid to keep out of the way, although Chris too had been seen lurking around the edges of Bartone and was into Mobile apparently. ‘It’s the Way of the future, Download music on phones’ and Janice’d said that Garthside had told her that

Mobile Users were being valued at 8K a head, Net ones at only 4K. It was how all companies were being valued now, no one seemed to know why, but it made Strike invention of Cloned Users for Cabby 6.9 very useful indeed. It was in everyone’s interest to inflate their numbers, it was what was required and everyone was doing it right up and down the Money Chain, everyone was now implicated in the not quite innocent worldwide web of dot con fraud. The game, it seemed, was to now get what you could get away with before the big balloon burst. Everyone knew it had become insane but no one wanted to say so, no one wanting to be a party pooper so it had to wait until after the big 2K. The

Millennium. What did it really matter anyway? Its only

Money. 800million fucking quid the Dome had lost, 800 million quid the Queens bank had burnt and that was just one little bloke in Sing sing, and 800million quid half was what Yahoo had raised in a day. Fucking hell….what’s a few million here and there eh? And all Toby had wanted was a few crumbs off the Rich Mans table so he could have time

437 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 to try and get his life back again, to get back to his true self, make it work with Tina, the Baby and the House and now although he didn’t want to admit it he was too ashamed to go back there, feeling he’d sold out, and only through getting what he’d sold out to could he be redeemed.

Yes he was lost to it now, he might as well just admit it, just be Toby Tickle MD Global fuck it and IT, the comeback, salvation, he was now one of them and Millennium Hamlet was buried forever in some deep down drawer. He was now the Executive Management, another little Big Man. Forget conscience, the worry about the lies and being found out, accept the dog eat dog the fraud, in Business that’s how it was, just accept Life is like that, a bitch and then you die and fuck it you might as well enjoy it while you can, albeit at the bottom of the rung. ‘You’ve made it my son, MD Foot

150 subsidiary, it was all going to be alright’ had said Keith before he’d left, with one of his cheeky chappy bleached smiles.

And now at the Bartone Millennium Christmas Party, as the

Countdown began everyone faking it as there was almost a

438 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 month to go, Tickle followed the media crowd to see the fireworks coming off the roof. 10,9,8, 7…. midnight they all chanted and the Tribe of Barry were all whooping and wailing and Toby was staring up at the sky and, despite his recent resolution to be part of the crowd, his self suspended in an acceptance of his fate, suddenly felt he had to cry.

The exploding stars were so full of themselves then so quickly gone, leaving only the wanting of more and exhausted it felt like the beginning as well as the end and full of loss for the child he hadn’t had again and the one dying inside him Toby turned his face up to the heavens and screamed again, O gawd, you fucking cunt…

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PART THREE

Infinity and beyond

2000-2002

A tormenting thought: as of a certain point, history was no

longer real. Without noticing it, all mankind suddenly left

reality; everything happening since then was supposedly

not true; but we supposedly didn’t notice. Our task would

now be to find that point, and as long as we didn’t have it,

we would be forced to abide in our present destruction.

Elias Canneti (1978: 69)

23.

Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do

not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not

deserve to live."

Adolf Hitler

Infinity and Beyond…Whoopee, whistle whistle wallop wallop way hay Hurray, the cheers went round the open- plan office, a Mexican wave of white shirts and ties going up and down along the ranks of cubicles and PCs, some clapping others just beaming, bodies over brimming with excitement, all the energy being funneled into each executives index finger caressing the touchpad of their IBS

500 to check again with a little tap, the live feed of the price of the Infinity stock; 62 pounds 52 someone hollered…Whoopee Whistle Wallop Hurray, the shouts zigzagged across the room, the mist of testosterone and exhilaration thickening the air as the collective wealth of the two score and ten predominantly middle aged white men on April Fools Day 2000 AD almost miraculously, reproduced and multiplied again threefold.

The Big One, it had come at last the one that the men had all been waiting for holding on tight, the Promise of the

Riches was now being harvested as it had already had been in the US of A, the Dotcom Tsunami having rolled over here at last and there in the corner, the beaming red face of

Father Christmas again out of season this time in Spring,

Santa Moore the Happy Reaper, holding a bottle of champagne which he ceremoniously opened with a Pop, the cork ricocheting off the high beams into the large propeller blades of the hanging fan shredding it into little pieces now floating down into the oblivious throng, with only a few noticing the dirty cork in the spent froth of their Cava, bobbling around in their cheap polystyrene cups.

‘Speech Speech’ someone shouted, ‘Speech Speech’ others went on ‘Alright maties, what do you think I’m standing here for’ Santa grunting amiably, ‘Wallies’ he said clearing his throat. ‘Well,’ he pronounced ‘My fellow believers’ now in an altogether different voice, deeper more sonorous almost public school, only a hint of the alien twang lurking; it was Maxwell reincarnated as a super sized super confident Elf. Ding...Ring of…

‘So it looks like we’ve done it, doesn’t it maties, the Vishcon deal has certainly excited the market and it looks like we’ve caught the market wave at just the right time in it’s increasingly upward curve riding the crest so to speak…’.

‘Whoa there Silver’ a voice came from the back and a few people laughed; ‘Way to go Dude’. It was that fucker

Benny, his supposed partner and Chairman, ‘How the fuck was he going to get him out of the picture’ Santa couldn’t help thinking but made himself smile benignly instead.

‘Thanks Your Lorship. Who’d have thought heh Benny when you and I first set out into the Internet business five years ago with the acquisition of WebTel Ltd, working out of that shoebox on Fenchurch, who’d have thought that our little bulb so to speak would propagate so quickly now yielding so great a harvest now. What a truly wonderful world we do indeed live in’ he beamed, feeling goodness spreading all around inside him and out ‘ From WebTel to Golden ISP the market had served us, the acquisition of Mobme, Cabby and now Infinity Global IT Investments plc flowering before our eyes in its glorious multiplicity… ’. Pop, another champagne bottle went off and Janice, blushing in the middle of a bevy of squealing women, admin and PAs behind Santa, giggling

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to do that’ and Santa couldn’t resist

443 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 seizing the moment and giving her a big one right smack on the kisser, getting everyone cheering him on. After all what the point of this malarkey, he grinned wiping his goatee, if it isn’t being able to get it on and if you’re lucky, up.

‘Cunts, what’s the point of this shit, the point is to get the

Money and fuck off’ muttered Tickle calculating the size of his options, hidden in his cubicle at the opposite end of the

Office, away from the party using a pile of loose change to figure it out. Standing on the Shoulder of Giants; it was written around the edge of the £2 coin he noticed now for the first time, it seemed even real money was implicated in the game. Money Rules OK so fuck you but that’s what he did understand, the prime management rule and that’s what he now accepted. He did the options sums again:

6000 shares in Infinity granted at a nominal pound sell at

60 equals Three hundred and sixty thousand fucking quid

Toby told himself again, what a fucking result he said again, he shouldn’t sell them all though and again he whispered ‘What a result mate, trying to persuade himself it was a real. The carrot had been got at last. Now was it the

Time, Carpe Deum Seize the Day, as Sky said, now he could become the Man he said he ought to be; the house in

Millennium Hamlet, fuck it he could pay for the movie pilot himself now and, if Tina couldn’t deliver, he could always buy the fucking kids online –in Russia they said they were cheap. His dream, his Vision it was all available to him now and he could make the picture postcard come to life at last.

He just had to go and sell the share after this stupid party and then he’d be rich, and free, (well after his 2 year contract lock in had expired) finally. But why did he feel so empty inside?

Infinity and Beyond…Whoopee, whistle whistle wallop wallop way hay Hurray, more cheers, more champagne, someone was playing Football anthems on their PC and a new Mexican wave was starting to roll around the open plan office again two blocks away from the Old Street roundabout and the divine Jennifer Aniston, Rachel from

Friends was advertising GAP SPRING on the giant Screen locked in between the two huge white horns. So looked so happy- she was getting married to Brad Pitt in July the headline in Tina’s Heat had pronounced. NO GODS NO

MASTERS and FREEDOM is A the graffiti said on the odd metal sculpture in the patch of park outside the office, but

Millennium VISHON AND D-Tel Christmas Eve 1999 was when it had happened, the whole madness kicking off and everyone had suddenly wanted in on the Game, a head of head honchos charging: Santa, Elizabeth, Brutus and even

Barry had suddenly wanted to be part of the party, urgent to get it sorted by Christmas, PCs rather than Pigs, Bartone selling Cabby to Infinity then taking a slice and stuck in the lawyers office there amid handshakes and champagne Toby was almost sick looking out of the 31st floor window of the

Nat West Tower, all mirrors and the lights of the City going into a blur, shimmering like sparkles in the madness and

Toby had sensed another seismic shift somewhere beneath him, everything in his World becoming wobbly again.

Cabby 7 sold for 50mill, New Media Age 3rd page, ‘Peanuts eh’ had said Chris Froth, who’d crept into the lawyers like a lizard dressed in black, ‘Amazon’s just been valued at

37billion’ he’d sneered before sliding away smiling having signed away his shares, rich and fat receding back into the

City Lagoon night. And walking away from the Tower towards the Millennium through the frenzied last minute

Christmas shopping crowds, Toby had wanted to shout out, it worked Ma I’m on top of the world MA, 50mill, at last he had 300K, my carrot, I’m a winner now, but he didn’t. He told himself he was a winner he was, insisting, feeling robotic in the new black suit and tie Eliza had insisted he’d buy for the signing but he felt ugly and awkward all too aware that he too had just been sold too, part of the package defined and small compared the Money in the bank

Towers along Broadgate. Rich? He had no time, no freedom, just part of the prezzie tied up nicely for another

Rich Man to play with. O gawd.

Everything you need for Life’ the big red balloon said, Toby read looking out of the window as Santas party reached its crescendo behind him, Whoopee Way Hay Wallop…The

Bartone Airship, this time promoting Bartone Online, looked vaguely lost floating over East London and seemed dangerously close to the Canary Wharf winking in the distance, the Towers apex light flashing in the low damp cloud. He wondered whether it would hit the top of Number

One Canada Square, like another those poor disorientated birds, the sparrows at the VNC demo at Power over a

The champagne was over and the white shirts were getting ready to depart. Toby had never been in a place like

Infinity where everyone, from the Cleaner through to Big

Cheeses, talked so much about Money: how the share price was doing, how others stock was doing, when to cash out or buy in, reallocation of assets, pensions, buy to let, gold, silver, endowments, annuities, offshore onshore, premium bonds, sales and insider info, even the Lottery was the main topic of conversation outside of the Business, like leisure ItcouldbeyouItcouldbeyouItcouldbeyoutoo

Nobody seemed to bother where the Money came from, whether anything was being made and all Toby could think of was the fact that his Money he knew was based on a lie, a con trick he was part of, users inventing for an invention that didn’t work. It was fraud. Cabby was broken and there were no Users and it had been bought for 50 mill on the basis that it was the next AOL and there were 1.2 million users already and now, the Money dome he was the only one left at the scene of the lie. He couldn’t sleep at night anymore, now next door from Tina unable to rest after

448 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 three years solid stress, twenty one in Internet time, body mind or soul. Odd really, he suddenly realized, the situation, because sleeping with Tina was one of the main reasons he’d done this shit, and lied, in the first place. And he couldn’t even get pissed.

The night before Toby had gone upstairs by himself while

Tina communed stoned with Jeremy on Newsnight; she did every night now since the last miscarriage, and without planning to he had put on her knickers and some stockings and hooked her stilettos over his toes; it felt odd but it made him oddly happy and he wasn’t sure why. He’d been looking at a porn site in the basement, his new addiction, trying to drum up some interest in himself for trying it later on with her or by himself. It was worrying him that he was finding it harder and harder to get a hard on, despite concocting particularly complicated films in his head. Self abuse, the Oxford Dictionary defined Masturbation, which seemed old fashioned though he did always feel a bit soiled, less than afterwards. Of course, it was always better acting out the preconceived pictures with someone else live. ‘What do you think I am, some cardboard cut out on which to project your fucked up fantasies’ had scolded Tina last time

449 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 she’d said, No. ‘Piss Off, go and buy a blow up doll’, she’d snarled when he’d last asked, going back to her half empty bed to carry on reading fucking Trauma and Recovery, or

Narcissism and Intimacy when she was really annoyed. Oh

Gawd. OK he had the Money but where was his fucking Life.

Santa and Benny now were coming through the crowd of white shirts on their way home. It was 17.30 and Santa didn’t change his routine for anyone; it was the 17.54 back to Chelmsford everyday as it had been for the last 20 years and Benny, well, he wasn’t in the office much anyway. ‘At the races with investors watching the geegees’ his PA Tracy had say, ‘Off with the girls going fuckyfuck more like’,

Bradley her big fat son had whispered, followed by a wink and a Monty Python nudge. But now the CEO and Chairman were shaking everyone’s hands, people coming up almost fawning with gratitude. It was getting quite emotional as the two Dot com pioneers who, having saved most of the white shirts from terminal redundancy and then lead them into the unknown of Dotcom had actually delivered to them to the promised land of share options, salaried employment and there was a sense that they had all been being redeemed. Both Santa and Benny had red faces and

450 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 white beards oozing goodwill and largesse, eyes twinkling and it was Bradley again who whispered loudly what everyone else was perhaps thinking, certainly Tickle, ‘ Well you know I think I’d be really fucking nice if I had 500 mill’.

‘Unfit to stand trial’ or that’s what the Morton Thomas’s executive had pleaded at his fraud trial where he’d turned up dressed as a woman in court. The Judge couldn’t handle it and let the guy/woman off the half a billion that’d disappeared, rather than have that awful thing back in his court, a turncoat capitalist who’d then exposed the sick fantasy beneath. But Toby Tickle, the best Hamlet since

Burton, would have had to push his talent to get away that and the other anti fraud trick already played, Alzheimer’s and not remembering anything, the other stock in trade for caught con men in the City, seemingly guaranteeing another mis-trial. Fraud, Toby tried to reassure himself, was too slippery for the Law, was always allowed to wriggle away. The Money could buy itself enough Time to delay, in order for the righteous outrage to fade, so Tickle decided now that he needed to sell his shares fast before the Game was up, he needed to make sure he had the carrot banked before they lifted up the page to see what was underneath his words and he’d have to hire lawyers too. And as if to

451 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 boost his confidence before taking the giant step towards the Big Sell he checked his Inbox one more time, seeking that feeling of being connected to a power far greater to himself, the World Wide Web and his ego being soothed specifically by the injection of Getting 1 of 143 messages now… downloading into him as the bar of Outlook filled, like a syringe drawing blood before the hit.

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How did they know? How did they know his frailties, hang up and needs? Where the computers checking his pail, his porno surfing at home, was the Serious Fraud office already onto him now, the Lie. He had to cash in and get out now.

17.34. 20 minutes before the Morton trading desk closed.

He’d better hurry in order to sell and he half hoped that

Time would prevent him doing so, because he knew also, although he didn’t want to admit it, that it would mean monetizing his Time spent to date and tell him exactly what his life was worth and he knew, once the heartache and hours was added up it wasn’t going to be very much. He wanted to avoid the impending sense of loss. To sell or not to sell? Reality now or further speculation? Split, wobbly and sick, although he didn’t know it, the Truth was what

Toby really was allergic to.

Tickle followed the other white shirts into the centre of the

City, most going to Liverpool Street to be distributed into the East. He stopped in Broadgate Circus, walls of high

453 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 windows crisscrossed with girders around the ice rink surrounded by neat little coffee kiosks. BUSH 2000; a flag fluttered out of 10 floor window. In each corner a mirror

Tower of an American Bank above the Ice rink that was now thawed he felt cozy inside the Citadel, finally accepted into the Moneys heart. Toby stood behind a massive marble pillar to make the call to the broker, acting nonchalant as if he did it everyday, like a cut price Gordon Gecko, dialing his Guy at Morton Thomas whose direct number the MT

Gold Card Santa had given him had on it like a credit card.

‘Hello MT Gold Trading Desk’, ‘Sell entire holding at 70 or over’ ‘What’s that 6000?’ ‘Yep ASAP. Err no, 4000’ ‘Oh OK

... Difficult letting go heh…’ ‘What?’ ‘Sorry...Right Ho, see what I can do- Ill call you back shortly’. Err, is that it?

Toby stood back under the huge golden letters of the

Morton Thomas Logo, pretending he’d just flown in from

NYC and smoked another fag. Should be a Havana rather than a roll-up of Old Holborn, but he breathed it as deep as he could. He wanted to blow up like Santa, to make his chest swell wanting so much to feel part of it, the Money, finally connected to that he had most fear of, Money, known before only as debt sickening for years behind the

Yellow Star of the IVA and now it was opening a door to let him inside itself, to the place where itself was made.

Beep beep, mobile ringing. ‘Good News. Two trades. 2-5 at

70 and 1-5 at 72.60 Congratulations’ the Dealer announced sounding a bit too casual…Didn’t the fucker realize out much this money had cost him? Could the guy tell Tickle was an amateur let in for the Millennium play? Toby tried to sound unfazed, ‘OK fine.’ ‘Are the Funds to be allocated to Infinitys off-shore account Infinity has registered with you?’ ‘Err..’ Toby didn’t know he had one ‘Err... OK er.. half…’ ‘Anything else?’ and Toby wanted to go through a raft of other shares, sales and buys, but that was it, it was the only stock he had and he’d sold it so that was it. He said ‘No’.

It was over then, gone and Toby felt really let down. He needed to get another shot of this somehow; the thrill was so brief then lost just leaving him agitated and empty, like smoking crack with Agman at the last fuck up he had had back in the 20th century playing an almost totally different role.

He looked up into the Ice Rink amphitheatre that seemed suddenly empty and cold. A sad looking immigrant was pushing a big brush around the Circus perimeter. He was moving very slowly, as if in a totally different world from the purposeful dark suits striding back the other way to the

Exec homes and there, among the cans, cups, fag ends and pieces of pink newspaper Toby noticed that there were four more small birds, sparrows, large grey eyelids tightly closed as if trying to sleep, so stiff and ragged they were almost indistinguishable from the rest of the trash and dust.

----

24.

Full Fist Grip , Thumb-Forefinger , The Mushroom ,

Campfire Method , Headless Jerking , Poking out of the

Pulpit , , Interlocking Grip , Upward Squeeze , Downward

Squeeze, Too Full Hand's Full , , Palm, Belly, and Penis

Sandwich, What? Packing Tape! , Table Hump, Butt Resting

on Heels , Pole Straddle (tight rope) , Pelvis Momentum

Explosion , One Topped One Bottomed , Oral Lip Imitation

Method , Pelvic Thruster Tease , Thumb Concentration on

Glans , Backhand Circular , Intercourse Style with Couch ,

Deep Scrotum & Testicle Massage , Maximum Head

Stimulation , Tease the Tip , Pillow Humping Hands-Free ,

Backhand Pelvic Thrust

35 Sexual Intercourse Imitation..

‘Oh for Gawds sake…what a twat.’ Tina got sick of it and banged the mouse down. www Advancedmastrubation.com, how pathetic, what was happening to him, the Fool. Prat.

She stomped back upstairs from the Basement, the bunker the twat called it, ‘Research my arse’, and angrily resumed

She had suspected as much for awhile and her snoop around his Desktop confirmed it, the Flake was now addicted to Internet Porn. …Sexual Grounding Therapy offers a reframing of sexual impulses through a 5 fold evolutionary cycle of sexuality.….Innocence, Curiosity,

Excitement, which involves Regulation, and is grounded in

Relationship. Relationship, Tickle hasn’t a clue and how the fuck is a PC going to help she fumed. The internets obsession with pornography can be understood as the wide scale unmet natural genital curiosity, but fuelled by years of taboo, spoiled innocence and shame. The resulting over excitement masquerading as freedom and is out of control…

Yeah, a fucking teenager; Jesus, were there any grown up men left? Such a sexuality has no basis in relationship and is dangerous for it excites the most difficult aspects of the immature male imagination- the tendency to relate people as objects and serves only to continue the exploitation of women’s bodies… Why does he think she says no, his beady eyes revolt her, looking at her like a freak. Fuck it, another

458 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 little boy wanking away, it was a real turn off. She felt a bit nauseous. It had been 18 months since the last miscarriage although it felt like a decade but approaching the big 40 she had almost run out of time. Should she try again? …. 3 strikes and you’re out…that’s what the Americans said when they put another Black reject in jail. And Toby? OK there was love there somewhere she knew but what about trust?

Can you trust a teenager still trying to work out how to make love? Can you be a good mum when you are married to a child? Oh Gawd…

Tina rolled over and lit up another fag hoping the reading of the trade mag and professionalism it made her feel would calm her down further... Sexual Grounding Therapy, which began in the Netherlands, revisits Freuds idea of sexuality as a life force (libido) charting its developmental story throughout a persons life, and , following Wilhelm Reich’s, investigates its potential for stuckness.. Why is always old men writing, do they know the best? Oh God but yes stuckness, yes, no, yes she was stuck now. Should she try or not? She inhaled deeply and knew she didn’t know.

…and it is no surprise that Internet Pornography is unregulated..the article concluded. Men, it was about

459 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 forgiving them, in the end, wasn’t it, otherwise how has any ever reproduced in the first place. They had to be allowed to fight their wars in order to discover who they were and it was no good telling them not to, Tina reminded herself, they’d run away becoming frightened you’d turn into their

Mother and swallow them up for good.

It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t e fucking nough. Volvo Estate diesel V70 34K, the Saville Row pin-stripe two grand, the terrace of Georgian houses down Queenstown road at least

250,000 each and he could buy all of them on a buy to let basis. Out of the Black Cab home Toby saw nothing except multiples and divisions of the value he now was defined by his Big Sell in Broadgate, the carrot that had just been grated, the End of the Game. Gooooooooaaaaal Da da da daa dada dadadada, a fucking result as Saul would have said but he couldn’t stop himself feeling bitter knowing it should be somehow much more than it was. He didn’t want to go back home, really, even with this sort of good news to tell. This was meant to be the end of the beginning, the beginning of a new life with Tina free of stress, where they

But nothing would have changed, he told himself, it would be the same old life, the same old feelings, loss and indecision, to go or not to go, to be or…whether to stay or not. OK, Tina now had some sort of security at last, she should be happier perhaps, more sex even, they really should celebrate together but he knew she didn’t really care about money at heart. ‘People are what matters’ she always said, and he surprised himself again by actually thinking now, resentfully, about her new ability to take off at least half of it from him in a Divorce. Ted Turner was up for losing 40 mill to Jane Fonda, including a ranch Heat said and maybe Toby and Tina should get a pre nuptial, even if she didn’t want to get married, ‘What’s the point, its only to get divorced’. Maybe he should go and see Tara instead, like Sir James Whatshisface, start acquiring mistresses buying them each a huge house each fluttering his flag dotted around the globe to keep his jet lag at bay, between continents, the deals and the Gulfstream flights.

The prick wouldn’t move despite all the fantasy he was prodding it with. Toby felt himself retreat into the corner of the taxi, huddled up feeling cold and overcome with Dread.

He was nothing now, the carrot had gone as he’d already got it and without the chasing he had no excuse but to be who he really was, to be or not, and the trouble was he didn’t like who he was. He now had a free choice to be happy and it felt like a threat. Toby had been separated from himself so long now he didn’t want to go back home because he sensed he had no choice now but to push on.

You only lose your confidence once Fat Max had said and

Toby was terrified that this was his last chance he’d have to recover his before the abyss opened up. Get another carrot, more options, more deals; without capital purpose he didn’t know who he was anymore and having sold all his own

Stock, he was devoid of what Tina called Self Worth, not the Money, he was too afraid of finding out what the other stuff was.

‘Balls Pond Road and fast’ Toby barked at the Cabby, who whispered up front ‘Cunt’. Tara lived over the African Video

Store, the sound of noisy musical and violent porn coming through into her flat. He’d dropped her off once just before

462 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the move to Infinity and there’d been a sort of fizz in the air, briefly, as he drank some tea and they’d talked about the Bartone party, but he’d soon retreated and left. He knew he couldn’t afford to get involved then, work was too full on and anyway he was a nothing man, a would-be with an unhappy wife and a too large credit card debt. Now he could ring her though, tell her about his fortune, Bingo, I can do anything Fancy a…? It would be a bit of drama at least and he had to get out himself somehow; coke, heroin, champagne the mad multiple mix, none of it was available to him now and it was for oblivion he was craving, a sense of living life to the full, almost to death because this life, now just didn’t seem enough, he wanted more.

------

25.

“Philosophy is to the real world as masturbation is to sex”

Karl Marx

Where am I?

5.30 am; a chill, dry, pubic hair at the back of the throat.

Where is she? Dick hard against a leg. 12inches, at least, make her cry heh something rotten - www.bigmen.net and speculative juices seeping into the gut. Come on come on come on move you git. Imagine- 12 by 12, giving her one getting the whole head into it.

Who?

Crying?

Alive then.

See the picture and make it happen.

Run the movie and make it real.

Make reality and the Vision One.

The One.

Hard on.

That is the one thing to hold onto, the Big One, the next Big

One, the really big on the sell out to Vishcon, his stake

$24.5 mill at current market value, the next tranche of

Infinity Options still waiting to be cashed in, 18 months since he’d done the last lot and even though the stock was going down, now only 1.3billion going down since the

Millennium heights too quickly but it will go up again, wont it, everything does, doesn’t it? But down down each day down it was going only 40 pounds a share having been 80 four months back but still, 25 mill was still the fuck off money for his options, only six months to go to the end of the contract lock in, then buy that private island top level security for the two baby boys, heirs apparent, another high income bird full on, at it all the time and not having to do this a shit jobjob PAY fucking E ever again.

The bed was clammy with the nights wrestling as Toby emerged out of an only just remembered dream….a black hole again, a loving woman again: Tina? Tara?

Mother?...disappearing over the crest of a hill and me stuck

465 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 on the slope sinking waist deep into the concrete wet now setting rapidly from the bag of dry cement broken over his shoulders as she is disappearing over the hill again leaving me all alone...Toby felt sore Get up you cunt ..and not only the dick. The licking of the blue tablets from www.yourpower.com had to end, the three times without stopping never ever fully relieving, only leaving straps of aching across the back, a searing pain into the gut, wrists and neck wrenched, muscularly distractions to the heeby jeebies of fear lurking there inside him threatening to erupt.

Fuck it, the ex marine leading the last MindChanges- New

Warrior Joint Workshop had said, the body is a god given tool for the fulfillment of commands issued from the head…

So ten, Fucking Move, you Dick. For some reason Toby thought of Nasty Nick, he couldn’t get him out of his head, evicted from last years Big Brother house, the rerun on recently, for pretending his wife had died in a crash. He had a column in the Sun now. He was a very good liar though, made you proud to be British it did, so he’d made a bit of dosh since then, another minor celeb. This year it was

Dean who was playing the cunt and Tickle looked at the swell in the bed ingrained into the darkness. Tara? It was

Tina, wasn’t it? His brain kept doing it, mixing up people places things; was it Heinrichs sore thing, now on the back of his head, Herpes or whatever it was, or maybe he did have Alzheimer’s after all, psychosomatically preparing for the trial to come.

And he wanted to have her again, Tara I mean Tina, whoever, there, inert, a plaything for his urgent imagination, the battlefield for his angst, busy persuading that it would ease the fear circling around his Bodys edge.

She, Tina had, it seemed, decided to spend close down for the summer and spend it in the Big Brother house, stoned, glued most of the time to the TV and, after the coke and brandy he’d plied her with to get what he wanted she wouldn’t be getting up for awhile, like them. ‘Come on. you only live once he’d said while he was doing it for the third time last night; she’d been so passive he’d had to work through all the female housemates instead, Helen, Narinda and Amma, to keep him going to the end, a triple decker just like on www.cappuccino.com, At least it, the fucking, took away the tension and the sense that everything, his life, was just about to go snap. It could happen, he sensed in that gap, there in between every moment, with a

Lists, he didn’t write them anymore, to be done no need, his head had turned into a white board full of Too Doos.

Eighteen months at Infinity, now almost September, it’d gone in a flash he’d been at it full on, first as no2 then 3 or then 4 as the other new execs came in one`after the other as Infinity had expanded; Den, Gordon, Ernie; was he being edged out or what? Had they found out he wasn’t really up to the job? Was he the one designated to take the shit for the companys sales, or lack of? Fall Guy. Twat. Did they see him as the weakest link? Had they noticed the spread of the cold sore up onto his head and the increasing darkening around his stressed out IBS eyes? Every morning now Tickle wondered if was going to be the last day, everything was traveling so fast around him, now just reacting rather than having any control; the whole dotcom thing had begun to feel so silly, spinning off axis, a law unto itself everything permissible as long as the story stood the test of PR. It wouldn’t have surprised him if he had already been sacked but, everyone caught up in the wheeling and dealing, lying and shpealing, he and nobody

else had realised it yet; maybe they all had Alzheimer’s,

one of the corporate side effects of fraud.

The heap in the bed now started snoring dopily from the

back of the throat and Tickle felt angry again. Tina, it was

all her fault anyway, she wasn’t an executive wife. Behind

every great man is…, she wasn’t pushing him onto greater

heights as she should be, sorting out the accounts, she was

just complaining he wasn’t here enough, always stressed

and that he wasn’t nice but the fact was he wouldn’t even

be doing this shit if it wasn’t for her her demands for a

house and her longing for a security that didn’t really exist.

Yeah, that woman was a real selfish Ka... And she was still

drunk and smoked when he couldn’t- no wonder he was so

uptight.

Tickle turned up Today louder on the radio so he didn’t have to listen to himself; ‘the National Commission on Federal

Election Reform led by Jimmy Carter has brought up questions regarding the American democratic system itself following the closest presidential race for many elections… his second quadruple expresso to go with his third fag. 6.12: he’d committed to being at the office by 6.30 goaded on by

Den, Santas mate, the new exec chief and he wanted to get in before that cunt Gordon to show he was made of a higher caliber of executive stuff. Dennis always got in by 5.30, habitual after 30 years on the Money Market, where he was

Santas boss at MMI, working for Warlock in the 80’s. MMI had just lost 1.2 million in the compensation case, for forcing a Jewish broker to dress up as Hitler, because he hadn’t hit his targets. Kurt Fankle, MMIs CEO and an old mate of

Santas, hadn’t shown any remorse at the tribunal though,

‘it’s a barrack room atmosphere sir, dog eat dog, its big business we’re in, we’re talking high risk and our executives need relief’.…

….and if that wasn’t enough the latest scandal is George W

Bushs past relationship with alcohol..John the presenter

was sounding weary…..it’s all part of the free for all known

as the world greatest Democracy, the United States. Let’s

talk to our correspondent in Washington, Nat Wry and find

out the impact the latest allegations are likely to have...’

Fucking shit he needed another shot of expresso and

another trip to the bog; fucking IBS, it was better not to eat

at all, or just oranges like Razi….. it was Laura who finally

forced him to stop, ‘it’s me or the Jim Beam’ she is meant

God’…always the same, thought Tickle, the implication that it was weakness not being able to handle the drink. It’s a disease, they said in the Crypt. Oh shit, the pain shot up again into his midriff- stress. Really he should go to AA again, at least take his mind off the business, stop him feeling so…No, he wasn’t strong enough yet, needed more money in the bank before going back to all that self- analytical wank. Recovery, fuck that, George and him can do it their own way - Dry Drunks Rules OK. ‘aaaand hundreds of residents took to the streets of an estate in

Portsmouth last night to protest against a suspected paedophile living in the area, former singer.... in the News of World naming and shaming of paedophiles campaign... todays tribunal Father Vincent Connery, called for forgiveness. "This idea of excluding people, it's almost like treating them like lepers," he said. "I know what forgiveness demands of people… But Toby wasn’t listening, trying to take his mind off the far more important ongoing conflict in his gut by focusing on what he had toodoo on his list in his head…

6.30 – 6.45 Den, (Buddy chat, tell him worried about sales-

BLAME GORDON)

6.45– 7.30 – check emails (will it hit 300 this today?) finish the monthly sales report (oh shit another month with nothing to show for it) start the presentation for the conference (fuck another PowerPoint)

7.30 – 8.30- meeting with Den, Gordon, and Ernie FD,

Budget and the sackings. (BLAME GORDON).

8.30 – 9.00. Drive to Vishcon- ring Karl about the IPR issue. Ring RITZU about the dodgy feeds (don’t sound ignorant)

9.00-10.30 VishconMeet- (BLAME RITZU- GORDON FALL

GUY).

1130. Board meet with Multimall in SW1. (MONEY TODAY)

12.30 -Lunch with Karl Sort rights.

2.00-400 – Glob Airlines in about travel portal. (Keep mouth shut - smart guys)

4.15 – Hoover guy. Barclays guy, (shit double booked).

6.00 – Company meet in Bar. (Look good, Cover arse- fuck off asap)..

730- Agamemnon (NO DOPE 2K MAX)

9.30. Home- Fuck Tina x 2/3 arse

Toby was exhausted just running through the list. The

Heinrich sore on the back of the head was throbbing and he had a vague feeling that he had written, and even done almost all the items on the list before. Even, yesterday for some. Shit, Groundhog Day; more like Groundhog Year,

2000 2001 doing the same things but a bit faster, same

News different names, same play different caricatures, everyone an object going round and round he felt like he was hanging onto his Life, the Time and he was about to spin off its wheel.

It’s Six o’clock on Wednesday 29th August 2001... This is

Today Good Morning this John…… the News today on the

Radio, went relentlessly on making the Day a nervous place to be in, even before it had begun… and in the Hague today

Lieutenant Colonel Dragon Jokis pleaded not guilty to charges relating to the Srebrenica massacre at the War

Crimes trial in the Hague…’ but only about 7% was registered as real in Tickles head.

Tina lay smoking another Silk Cut as if celebrating the door slam below her. He’d gone, thank gawd. Lovely Silky now, at least they didn’t let her down. She should stop really, but fuck it it didn’t matter anymore. She was done, the body no

Day, another drag, breathing it deep down, and another little burial of the anger and the fear and the shame. What was there to do, what purpose? The reason for the future had been stolen from her again. She should really finish

Trauma and Recovery and the notes on Narcissism and

Intimacy too, her dissertation was overdue, but fuck it she felt too tired and again as on auto she drifted into the Telly room to see what the Big Brother Housemates were up to, now that prat Stuart had gone booted out the night before.

It had been a whole year since Nasty Nick had been thrown out, it seemed like yesterday and here she was again, the same place, the same anger stuck in her stuckness as the book said. She couldn’t help herself thinking that Nick reminded her of Toby, a pompous executive git shouting, lying, just doing everything he wanted then wanting more sex. Brian was cute though, bet he was going to win this year; Gay of course, he was more of the type of bloke she wanted to hang out with now, gentle, caring, a laugh. Soon the young people were drifting into the kitchen one by one but she didn’t fancy waiting, maybe she should make a

474 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 change and watch a rerun of ER? The new Freedom Cable allowed her to watch stuff out of synch, sort of pre recorded and although she preferred the old terrestrial channels dictating how she spent her time, hospital dramas always made her pain seem less, watching the broken flesh and screams.. Oh George if only… and she wrapped the

Dressing gown tighter around her as if Clooney was the silk, all warm and reassuring holding her now lessening her internal pain.

But no, she was stuck with Tickle and she shivered thinking of his smell. As usual he’d just stormed out this morning, not a word, just angry, as usual slamming the door. Git, didn’t think what she was going through; it was as if he was the one who had had to endure the pain. But she knew now, the books told her what she’d always suspected: he was just projecting his own self hate onto her. And she knew what the book didn’t tell her, that now she wouldn’t be able to forgive him anymore, not completely he’d gone too far this time, the coming into the hospital then just swearing and storming out, not even a hug. But should she leave him? She wasn’t sure. Abulia was what the book called it, indecision caused by depression, post traumatic, in

475 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 bereavement, loss, and miscarriages too. Procrastination is what Mum called it, make any decision, it’s better than none, that’s what making you depressed she said. Oh

Gawd, for fucks sake. Keep buggering on.

She’d always told herself that she wouldn’t be abandoned like Mum and whatever, she’d stick it out for the long run.

Twenty years pah, its nothing, far too early my dear to know what love is, that’s what Geeta her Hindu neighbour had said laughing. KBO, keep buggering on, was Mums other adage, Churchills mantra, a War Child after all. But fuck it, she was 80, I didn’t have to be a victim thought

Tina, a woman who loves too much. No, she’d learnt her lesson then, no, she’d endure but not suffer, hang on in there have the family she’d decided on but not take any crap and, not wanting to think about any other alternative and the possibility of change, she turned back into the TV making herself imagine holding George wrist steady again, him smiling at her at the same time looking both strong and caring, as he went into the little childs abdomen with the knife.

-----

26.

There's nothing more subservient than an arrogant man when his arrogance has once been broken in some particular

instance.

Chance by Conrad, Joseph

6. Talk to accountant about tax avoidance

7. Check Tony lawyer re hiding assets, divorce

8. Get Janice to bump out sales/accounts for board meeting

Tickle ran through the TooDoo list in his head again, chewing another paracetamol driving the car too fast towards Infinity, Today still ranting on in the background.

All News is good News, or is it bad, the other way round?

Tickle head was thick and confused. He didn’t really have any time to listen to it now anyhow, what was going on, even in the car he was usually on the phone.

…Vojislav Kostunica is determined to set up a truth commission in Serbia, examining the responsibilities for the crimes committed in the conflicts in former Yugoslavia….

Shit, a bolt of lightning, fuck, the speed camera flashed him again on Shoreditch, another 60 quid. Sod it; he was on two grand a week so who fucking cares. Come on you cunt get out of the way. Oh no, he’d be on time if it wasn’t for the fucking R-TIC on Commercial Road, was the twat lost or what? It was only a few more minutes until he was meant to be there but Minutes are Money or so Den sometimes screamed. ‘Size matters heh you cunt?’ Toby sneered at the lorry. ‘Lets see?’ and he swerved out to take it over a lorry coming the other way down Great Eastern, a huge front end of another R-Tic rearing up before him claxon blaring, brakes, shit the car twisting on itself burning rubber almost stopping a taxi now blaring a horn right up behind him.

‘You fackin twat’, a pug-nose against the windscreen and juddering into a wrong gear, Toby got to the side of the road and the whole thing stalled.

…a reward offer of up to $5 million for bin Laden the terrorist leader….

Fucking traffic, fucking lorry, why do I have to go so fast?

…. their hunt has been expanded…If I hadn’t had that spliff and double viagra last night, fucking Tina, its not fair me having to do everything …the reports revelation that

Clintons attack on Sudan targets in 1999 were misdirected

Islamic worlds… Tobys hands were shaking white and flimsy in front of the black leather wheel of his new 3.5 litre

Cosmos estate and for a moment the pain came back into him, all his getting on and getting it together now unraveling, Hienrichs neck now head the IBS gut, all imploding, expanding at the same time. Oh no not here, shit. Not here, Shit. Toby suddenly felt incontinent. Keep it in control man for Gawds sake…

..... and Mr bin Laden has renewed his threat to wage a holy war against the US .And before we go to the markets to see what’s happening in the Dot com Gold rush, we are following up on the story of the Canary Island volcano which apparently is going to make a Tsunami that will devastate the whole of the Eastern Seaboard of the United

States, Oh dear’ said John with his lets be humourous at the end of the bulletin voice… as if the new President,

George W hasn’t enough on his plate..

‘Watcha Cock’ Dennis jumped up from behind a pot plant five minutes later and held Tickle across the back of his shoulders steering him into the desk next to his. ‘Hope we’ve got some juicy sales to report Tickers. Santas getting

479 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 edgy with the investors on his back- the stock‘s down another 4 points and we need goods news to turn it round, remember Operation Countdown is in play now’ and with that the white shirt and tie went into a weird dervish like spin, ‘It’s the final countdown, oh yeah it’s the final countdown’ turning up the real track on his CD ‘OK don’t here’s lots in the pipeline ’ Toby tried to assure him and get him to slow down and turn the volume down.‘ But You said that last month’ ‘But I put a whole load of potentials on

Gordons desk’ Deflect, deflect, deflect, Tickles management mantra no 4, Always blame someone else. ‘To tell you the truth Den, I’m a little concerned about Gordon, the conversion rate, I can’t take the blame for that’. ‘ It’s the final countdown’ Dennis looked at him out of the corner of his face wry smiling as he turned the volume down, ‘Sure

Tickle but we’re all in the same boat, sink or swim, swim or sink together, remember that mate. The bosses don’t give a toss where the Money comes from, the only concern is fulfillment of the Plan, the Numbers, the numbers my boy, the numbers that’s all that counts... It’s the Infinity Plan, if we don’t do ‘em we’re all goners. Fucked.’

The Infinity Plan was the supposed Truth in which everyone was now implicated. It had been invented almost a year ago a Millennium story no less; each exec had been asked to put down a figure a target, their number to achieve, for which they were accountable and now it was the Infinity

Future, numbered, delineated, milestoned and accountable, a reality as it should be into which the Money had bought, on which it had bet, the Infinity Prospectus for IPO last

Christmas, having been touted around the Big Boy Banks before in the Benny and Santa Investment show. ‘We’re looking at the value going up to 2 if not 3 billion by second quarter ‘05’ they’d both told MT, ‘Conservative mate’, they’d said to Tickle when he’d given them his forecast ‘

Treble it’ ‘ Make that ten times eh Santa’. ‘Makes your options look rosy heh’ they encouraged, ‘ and you never know by the end of the year we could get sold out’, they’d both said to Tickle geeing him on; ‘Remember you’re part of a Billion dollar company now’, but since then, after the

50million raised at the IPO, the first year Infinity’s results had been way off mark the target not hit even nearly and

Money was grumbling; the Plan was loosing its power to convince, as it was still dependent enough on the real truth to sustain the belief in itself.

‘Failure is not an option’ aping the Apollo 13 Controller’

Dennis pronounced to the empty office in general and Toby in particular ‘ its Operation Countdown Mark2, signed off by

Santa and the Board, you have to hit the numbers, the Plan is there and it will be fulfilled come what may. It’s the Big day today; Vishcon, Shopkwik and Globair, so don’t fuck it up. Carry on Sergeant; Ill see you for the culling when

Gordon gets in eh.’.

Toby felt drained already; he needed to plug in, receive the power of the system, renew his desire again. Receiving 36 of 262 messages… the bars syringe filling up the depleted sense of Tobys self worth.

From Denis McMahon Sent Tues 11/09/01 0520 am

Here we go gents Agenda for Management meet attached

(Get knives ready)

Den

There was a mail from Janice who had been working from home last night,

‘ Hiya Toby here the spreadsheet with revenue projected for the coming month Janice xxxx

PS did what you wanted looks good.’

Then a clutch of mails from American sales agents blitzing

UK firms while they slept, no doubt their worms, the new bit of codes which went into company databases to hoover up names and addresses in order to spam to, worming into the profiles of Infinity’s identities too.

‘Its shit, get your p45 and get out of there quick’

Oh God Mad Dr Karl from ME2U2 Development Ltd, the

Cabby software company who Tickle’d asked to check out the new Infinity Portal Santa was getting built by Titan they were flogging to Glob, Multimall and Vish. It made Tickle feel sick. State of the Art, 21st century, Next generation,

MOP (Mobile Omni platform Personalization), and the trouble was the thing didn’t fucking work, even after six million quid. ‘Empathy, Epiphany, Engage, Salvation and

Exclaim…putting different bits of software together is like trying to make people the same, they’re built on different fundamentals, it’ll never work..’ and Dr Karl’s sounded really offended, it went against the logos schematicus, the rational order of things to which his atheistic mind subscribed.

Oh Gawd…it made him feel so nervous and Tickle now needed relief quickly from the unease flowing through his

Ruskibabes.ru; even the name reactivated his dick quickly which, although sore sent a spark across the gut dulling the fear in his head, chemical trickling down and the images magically connected by the secret current zipping between the two and he felt himself begin to swell, verifying that he was indeed still alive and he clicked again on a thumbnail of

Russian Circus Mistress and Black Bear …

‘Morning’. It was Gordon striding in at 7.15, exactly, looking cross. ‘Dickhead’ muttered Tickle and with a click click and hey presto, he was back in the room staring at his Hi Tech portfolio of stock. He hated having to share his office with this nerd Gordon, half his space gone. Synergy and co- operation Den’d called it, sitting next door going through the FT with a big felt pen. Competition and Desparation more like, each execs presence only reminding the other that one of them was going to get the sack. Gordon was fresh in from RITZU, the giant system integrator who worked with Footsie 500 corporations and an investor in

Infinity and Gordon had been there, at IT, since he was 16.

Persistent and insidious with a facility for sales, he looked like he hadn’t been outside much since then, with his wire

484 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 spectacles, white blond hair and teeth that slightly stuck out. Drafted in by Santa for Operation Countdown Mark 1 to help the share price up at Infinity, he’d been going on about ‘Big Ticket sales’ and ‘5 mills minimum’ but he hadn’t done one fucking deal yet. ‘Too many media bunnies’

Gordon had started blaming other, snarling to Den ‘the overheads for Cabby are too high, the ROI’s shit , Janice had heard him say the day before, trying to blame Tickle for the trouble. Media people versus the Techies, Normal versus the Unclean the stage had been set and Toby sensed he might be cast as Russell Crowe which was alright apart form the end. ‘Cunt. Two can play at that game’, he had muttered determined to pile the shit on the nerd, knowing also one of them was probably going to also get the blame for the big Fraud beneath and then crucified on the road to

Rome.

‘See the News’ it was Ernie, the chief Bookkeeper, fat and wheezing at the door who’d seen this and everything else before. ‘The Game’s up. NASDAQ has tumbled and I reckon we’re going to take a 20% hit today’ he said all calm smiling, except for his fingers fiddling with an unlit fag.

‘Market Correction’ smiled Den, ‘The biggest dog still wins.

We’d better shift into gear and get some PR out by close of play. They can’t ignore a tripartitie deal, Vish, Glob and MM the hype plus should keep the Price up’ ‘What like Viagra’ chortled Ernie going into a cough. ‘Hey mate we don’t all need that’ snapped back Den ‘Ready for the culling eh Ern?’

‘As I said before and Ill say again’ Ernie chortled, ‘I’m not worried, at the end of the day’ the Receivers always need someone to turn off the lights’, then going into one of his awful spleen ripping coughs that he did when he was trying to laugh.

‘She’s the one with the big tits, lets keep her’ said Den goading everyone to laugh a few minutes later in the boardroom. ‘The support team is fairly overloaded’ said

Ernie. ‘Yeah but you need something to ogle at just to keep you sane’ came in Gordon his nerdy leer looking more suited to doing nasty things with skin and teeth. ‘And what about the coons downstairs’ he continued, beginning to giggle his teeth sticking out more ‘we’re haven’t got the luxury anymore for community work have we?’ ‘Excuse me’ said Tickle, trying not to sound upset. ‘Jacob and

Evangeline work on the Cabby database, and are very good, even though they’re on the Jobstart thing’ pleaded

Tickle feeling his power draining away. ‘They are absolutely essential for maintaining the strength of Infinitys ecommerce offering’, he asserted. ‘But are they bringing in any fucking Money?’ snapped Gordon, ‘It’s not their fucking job, that’s yours isn’t it twat’ Tickle snapped back and then he knew he’d gone too far.

Den and Ernie both looked at him flat-faced, Gordon grinning pleased he had got a rise out of the supposed cool media guy. Executives stick together, that was

Management Mantra No 1 plus, the maintenance of a common front was all, they can stab each other in the back later but it was imperative to keep a semblance of peace, even though the game was to keep the general tempo at a near panic pace. The Executives held the Money for the

Money and any obvious unrest could quickly lead to Money losing Trust. ‘Right Gents, lets keep a grip’ said Den, not smiling but making a note in his head against Tickle name marked, watch out. ‘Be serious; we need to reduce the overhead by 30%. First round the workers on the floor, we all know the form, after that we’ll begin to look upstairs’ he said looking hard at Toby with a thin smirk.

And for a moment the talking stopped, quiet and in the distant rumble of a plane coming in behind the cloud they all recognized that the dotcom bubble had been blown to its fullest and the air had just started to escape. It, the whole

Infinity thing wasn’t working and secretly around the table everyone knew it was now too late, it was all about managing the decline now without loosing too much face.

‘OK lets to it. Operation Countdown Mark 2, Downsizing

Troops’ said Den who seemed to get strength from any

Military allusions which seemed to imply some sort of structure even logic to this otherwise messy affair.

‘Smith K’ ‘Gone’ (said Tickle)

‘Summers A – is that little Alice?’ said Den

‘Yep, gone afraid so’ said Tickle, having to make a few more concessions than intended.

‘Knew sommut was up, at least most of us are safe,’ said

Janice half an later, sucking a fag outside with Tickle after the Cull. ‘Makes me sick thinking about it, back to them

Black Widow days with Pinky and Perky eh?’ she laughed looking worried. ‘I’m telling you Tickle watch your back, don’t like the look of that Gordon, he wants to stuff you right up the arse’ ‘Hope not’ said Tickle, ‘not my type’ but

488 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 his gut was emptying all the time. He knew Janice was usually right, and he knew his 18 month empire and six figure salary was now threatened. But more worrying still, he knew someone was going to get the blame; it had to be him didn’t it, the Fall Guy, because he was the one out of place, the rest had all been with a Corporation, he’d just been let in for this Mad Game. O gawd.

8.14 Shit had to go. ‘Got to run. Got Vish, then the

Shopkwick shit then fucking Glob’ said Toby flicking away his cigarette spitting out the brands. He needed to stop thinking, get in the car, head west and get on into the rest of his toodoo list. Don’t think, KBO, as his Dad had always said. Come on you cunt lets go.

…it was the Italian place, running through corridors, laughter somewhere else, was it the Shining , no axe at least but the big Jack smile that Toby used to have twinkling eyes and yes come on come on come on some open window the sea breeze coming in, Italy, Viva La, yes open arms and the soft fresh linen, that hotel American

Express wont mind he’d said and even the marble was smooth on the back then a sickness sliding around the

489 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 room, Titanic but no Leonardo, falling small on the bath tiles Stop it Toby laughing not there then around and around and around through the window the river slow and brown the Thames going around around around stop stop the new Millennium Wheel faster faster screaming stop stop and Tickle laughing somewhere there running away leaving her stranded up in the air the wheel falling setting Tsunami across the City and.. Dad Dad …Where are you? Mum?

Where ?

Tina awoke on the Sofa, sweating, some housemates now bleary eyed sipping tea knowing she was going to be sick again. The Doctor had said it was psychosomatic; miscarriage shouldn’t affect the digestive tract particularly after all this time. Shit, Toby’s madness even got her in the sleep. Not there. Never there. Always on the run. She didn’t want the money she just wanted to hold him while she cried but...‘Leave the fucker’ Alicia had said, Ellen too,

‘he doesn’t care about anybody but himself, he’d sold out.

Its all about the Money not you’. But Tina wasn’t sure what was real again and she really didn’t want to go back to that loneliness. Oh Gawd...

Perhaps they should try Relate. No, stop it, she’d go back to sleep now, better than dope; wait till there was something she felt worth getting up for. She had to make a decision soon, to try again or to leave him, that was it, a decision, but the prospect of making it just made her more sick.

Love, object, covering the gap, its all mourning, Trauma and Recovery said, turning the feeling into some sort of game, but she saw it now, the hole and Toby there, the boy sulking under the street lamp in the rain, the wounded child within there wanting, waiting for her to come back and her suddenly so urgent not to add to his hurt, his abandonment in case it bought her back. His hurt or hers. Joined at the

Wound, Dr Karl the Lecturer had sneered and she knew now it was her choice to love him, not some magical thing.

Toby or not Toby, in the end her choice, whether to let him back inside or not. The trouble was she didn’t want to get lost in it again, his madness the longing and the mush of projection and pain again, perhaps that’s why she was so attracted to Dr Karls clinical almost harsh approach, at least it was cut and dry. Clear. O Gawd. Perhaps the answer will come in the sleep, the one place she knew what she was doing and felt entirely safe.

27.

"Fear is not in the habit of speaking truth; when perfect

sincerity is expected, perfect freedom must be allowed; nor

has anyone who is apt to be angry when he hears the truth

any cause to wonder that he does not hear it."

Tacitus

‘You facking cunt’ Tickle slammed the brakes feeling his throat contracting a sharp pain in his temple. The Man in the Audi snarled back, sticking one finger up mouthing behind the tinted glass ‘VARRR KKKKK OOOO ARRRR”

…Toby knew what he was saying bared teeth snarling back, pushing into the M4 a toothpaste of congestion squirting out of the City from Hammersmith Broadway; it was 8.38 and he only had 40 minutes to get to Brackberry and the meeting with RITZU and Vishcon O shit… Beep Beep Beep

Beep. CU hq 9.20, for qk debrief rfta vish b4 glob.. Fucking

Gordon’s text squealing out from inside the WAP mobiles heavy metal case; same as usual, busting a gut and someone always wants more, a little bit more of you… Cunt.

‘Arse hole’… 8.54 on the M4. a BMW black tank with mirrored glass moved sharply into the outside lane in front of Tickle and he had to brake fast- Toby had been deleting

Gordons text when it happened and for some reason he’d looked up just in time and he was back in it, the Anger screaming ‘Kill the Twat’ eyes popping the knife again plunging into the BMW accountant’s neck, Raymond Lye

M25 style, again and again.. Bastard take that, do you know who I am…Lye had just been knicked in Cyprus, a

Millennium result for the coppers; maybe that was the Ray

Agman had been going on about. But why did he do it? Do him, the little mechanic, stabbing just for carving him up at the Bluewater junction, ‘Ill show you what carving is you cunt’… Why did he do it? A millionaire businessman, freemason, sorted both sides of the law? Just lost his rag did he, said Fuck it and plunged the knife into the little electrician head and again and in again and in again again…Take that you cunt and that and that... Was it

Scarface on coke? Had he seen it or just that he’d snapped unable to take it anymore the double dealing, like Michael

Douglas in Falling Down, the lying and deceit, always running, the fraud and the keeping of the deadpan face yet again as they hauled him into the Yard for more chit chat

493 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 about the bullion haul, although everyone knew it was him in the first place. ‘Got a lot of bottle’ they’d always said about him, in admiration, even the Rozzers, but maybe, the M25 pushing him over the edge, he had finally snapped needing to break that bottle and push it into someone else’s head.

Beep Beep… Agamemnon, o shit. U r cumin 2 nite mergcy

Agar yr old mate. Again; the nutter’d been trying to get through for a week Beep Beep in dip shit, need 2 cu, m8t,

Ags, bit o biz l PS IM str8t’ Toby had been avoiding him, fearing his old and new worlds colliding and ending up in the middle a mess out of control; he had to keep focused on saving his own arse. But he’d have to respond eventually, otherwise Agman would just crash into his life; addicts just don’t, can’t leave it, move on, give up Tickle knew. What’s the difference between a Rottwieler and an addict? The rottweiler knows when to let go. Besides, his old mate was getting heavier, a bit too heavy, the bigger his habit grew.

The motorway had straightened out and cutting through the

Berkshire Hills, Tickle was in the countryside now and he

494 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 hadn’t even noticed. Trees, fields, it seemed an age since he’d been out of town and he’d forgotten this oldy worldy still existed. Sun shining white through the mist there above the cut corn, white above white and everything seemed very dry baked. The hottest summer ever recorded they said, the global warming Alishas was now going on about, natures revenge she’d called it ‘the fuckers have really done this time they have’…But it was all virtual to

Tickle, moving from one Screen to the next, PC to windscreen this picture of stubble fields, a yellow desert and up above a latticework of airplanes smudged and in the high blue. What had happened to it, he suddenly thought, a balloon of sad fear inside him, the whole picture, the being part of, India, the searching for it, the real it? O gawd. Summer was coming to an end and he hadn’t even seen Spring, only glimpsed briefly out of windows, like a spy. No holiday just one dirty weekend at a flash hotel 3K all in, spent answering emails and pushing Tina about for not letting him get at her after breakfast, and dinner and tea. ‘I just want a decent talk’ she’d said but both ending up being sick on Sunday overdoing the oysters, knowing that the sex wasn’t working anymore and something had to give. Fuck her, Tickle muttered, she just weakened him in the battle he had to fight now, the Final Countdown to get

495 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the Money so he could be rich and free. Shit, he should trade her in as soon as possible for a more suitable model, a high income type, who wanted him to succeed. ‘You’re so strong Toby- Do it again Toby Oh Toby I love… Whatever he now needed all the support he could get.

Beep Beep.. Gordon. Twat. ‘Hello there Tickle’ ‘Yup Fine, in car, shoot’ He was going 105 miles an hour on the mobile and smoking a fag at the same time, he didn’t want to be late and rock the boat in anyway as he sensed that the whole Infinity fraud could unravel at any time and he had to cash in his options again and get out before it collapse, which might be today. But he’d been thinking the same way for almost a year, each day and his brain was locked into it, it was weird. ‘The ShopKwik meet today, we need the demo urgent, close the deal to’. Oh shit, Tickle had forgot.

‘Yeah Santa's adamant. ShopKwik at lunch then GlobAir this aft, those deals done announced today will stop the Stock sliding below £30 or we’ll loose the billion dollar tag. Den says its Save the Company time.’ Gordon sniggered ‘He’s totally lost it, he has He’d been playing the Final Countdown since all over the office since you left. Here listen..’

… It's the final countdown

The final countdown’

.no one to blame

We're leaving the ground

Will things ever be the same again

It's the final countdown

The final countdown’

‘OK Gordon , Right sure, I Geddit it. No Prob Ill have for you by One’ said Tickle firmly and ended the call. But the demo didn’t exist. ‘The Personal Shopper, that’s the killer app’ Toby’d had told Gordon showing off in front of Den only two days before. ‘Can come in 32 different looks, from

Caucasian through to Chino, choose the eyes, legs, hair the whole caboodle and of course multilingual,’ he said and putting an elbow into the older man ribs adding ‘Although not publicized we could always develop a soft porn plug-in for the luxury version’. Yes, it was fantastic, but Toby was making it up as he was going along, embellishing even Gary

Millers ME.TV dream, after all it was all bollocks anyway wasn’t it? Most of the stuff out there didn’t actually exist yet but it didn’t seem to matter; look at the billions Vishcon and the rest had just spent on 3G. Vision had replaced Fact

497 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 and at last, Toby thought, his talent for fantasy could come fully into play. But this time he’d over stepped the mark and he was about to get trapped in his lie. He only had two hours and a half to redeem the shit he was in.

Blah blah blahblah light years to go and things to be found

Blah blah blah we'll all miss her so

It's the final countdown

The final countdown

The trouble was Time always catches up with you, the future reversing into Now and Toby had to find an antidote for his fib. ‘‘Hi Bez Yeah OK, We’ve got a bit of a problem’ and Tickle, speaking very quickly to his Tech head, explained the urgent requirement with little leaps in between falsehoods, so it wasn’t clear to Bez how the situation had come about. Make sure you are the only one who knows the whole picture Management Mantra No5. and

Tickles only solution to his deceit was to lie again, and to

Steal.

‘So Bez Get Martini Yeah MRT.com ‘anywhere anytime’ out of Cupertino. Tell them I am going to buy their software, yeah 5 mill but only if they send their demo now, I mean now pronto. Then Rebrand it Shopkwick Mall Assist, no

498 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 better be Shopkwick Cabby powered by Infinity’. Toby didn’t want the fuckers trying to dupe him and take the kudos for the flash new product even if it wasn’t real.

Presume everyone is as dishonest as yourself Management

Mantra No 6. ‘and Bez if you get this done by 12 you’ll be in for the rise on the next review. OK?’ and Tickle lied again...

‘Nice one boss’, although it decided this morning to slash the wages and offer Bez unpaid redundancy. A bit slimy

Toby knew but it was business, it was how Business worked. ‘In business it will be OK’ Den always said about the little economies with the truth the execs had to employ from time to time. ‘In Business the truth is suspended, and the skill is judging the degree of the lie, not to give away too much’. ‘In Business’ it was OK to play with people lives under cover of blatant lies, in Business it was OK to spend other peoples money in an unaccountable way, in Business everyone in it knew that’s what was happening and on balance more Money was made for the Big Boys because ‘in

Business’ the main thing was to keep Money moving, because those who had it, the Banks and the VCs, and those who moved it , lawyers and accountants, all got more the more it moved about, in Business, Busyness was the primary aim.

Shit. Slow down. Hold tight, fuck, the car was skidding, a sign, a hedge, brake for fucks sake and the 3.5 turbo then stalled, stuttering to standstill, by the edge of the asphalt front wheels over a dyke. ‘Oh shit’, Twice today; three strikes and you’re out, isn’t that what they say in the

States, before they throw the keys away. A sweat bead was making its way down Tobys right temple going cold by the time it hit his cheek, the back of his neck was tingly sore the redness now right up to the ridge at the back of his head and the scabs were throbbing, his insides shaking and he thought he was going to be sick. 8.57. Three minutes he gave himself and lay back on the leather seat.

Breathe deeply. Think of the Sea. Think of the Waves. He needed a pee. He opened his eyes and in front of him was white corn, grass, sedge and, almost invisible in the mist of a hollow before a horizon of oaks, was a horse, white in the whiteness, a vague presence, head down grazing then lifting it and looking straight at him, toe bee toe bee too be, straight on, asking slowly chewing and then, turning, it faded away into the whiteness again. Behind the darkening tint of the car windscreen, the scene was framed by an overriding arch where the clean glass, recently wiped, met

500 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the dirt. No one had told him it was going to be misty and thinking of it now, Tickle knew that the inside and the outside world were becoming increasingly disengaged. He was moving away from it to somewhere opposite in front.

He decided to turn on Today again, the News, in an effort to establish some sort of a link back between them again.

…its my Job to create the Truth” Meddlesome said in describing his role as Head of Communication strategy to the Prime Minister, but I know John, the Prime Minister has let it be known through close associates that he considers the financial affairs between Meddlestone and the Secretary of State for Industry shows an extraordinary lack of judgment...

New cars fled past him, Corsas, Mondeos, a lot of Mercs; this was bunce country, cars tied to the bonus and the job and Toby let go of the hand brake of his and rolled down towards the motorway, once again to join their fray.

Whark Whark whark... the sound of seagulls mixing in with the violins high strings filtered through the smoky interior…and now Desert Island Discs with Sue Lawley, with her guest this week ……… Today had moved into yesterday and Toby without knowing was glad of the change… Hello,

Brackberry, the giant logos of PROPHET, ENTEL and YDN came out of the mist like dinosaurs above in the Hinterland bog. RITZU was a big cement box, a hard drive without a

Screen. Toby decided to sit in the car park for another moments rest. Mournful music seeped out of the radio, mixing in with the thick smoke of Tickles final fag.

…Beautiful don’t you think? I play it for my first wife Sonia, who died of Cancer when young’ said Sir Richard,

‘Chaconne it’s called, and within it there is a second piece where Bach buried a requiem to his dead wife. You have to listen carefully but it is the real piece going on, if you listen, in the gap- it makes me always feel very sad but also full of hope…’ ‘Yes Yes Sir Richard how moving but said Sue, there must have been some sunshine in your two marriages… she went on grumbling around for tidbits.

Tickle switched it off. Gossip, that’s all she wants. ‘Come on you twat’ he ordered his dead body and the Senior Vice

President Etailing, Content, Information Services UK and

Europe, headed into the glass skyscraper to present Cabby to another Brand with Money held by the Suits.

PRESENTATION INTRO>

INFINITY PORTAL SYSTEM>

VISHCON CABBY>

PERSONAL SHOPPER FOR LIFE>

PERSONALISATION>

DEEP PROFILE = HIGHLY TARGETING SELLING=MULTI-

PRODUCT

ENTIRE LIFE LIFESTYLE COMPANION>

MULTI PLATFORM>

ANYTIME ANY PLACE>

WIN WIN WIN SOLUTION>

FUTURE DEVELOPMENT>

SCHEDULE>

COST>>

Blah blah de blah and more PowerPoint shite.‘Why the fuck did they go on so long?’ Tickle came out of the glassbox cursing. Fucking Vishcon techies asking that crap, and

Gordon bullshitting on the concall telling them they knew less than him. Tickle had made his excuses, making himself out to be more important than the rest as he had to get back and he was relieved that the demo hadn’t been done infront of the marketing guy as it might have affected the possible sale; then again the Vishcon suits were too busy stabbing each other in the back to notice much.

It was 10.33 and he’d told Den that he’d probably be back

11.30. Only 55 minutes to get back to Central London, Oh shit. Why can’t things just run according to his Plan? He should have been stronger with RITZU in the meeting, he could have said ‘Delivery mates, that is the name of the game; but he didn’t Claim leadership and they will follow he told himself, Management Mantra 7. Shit Fuck Shit Fuck,

10.37, Tickle shouted kicking his tyre, angry against himself for being so frantic when he knew really there wasn’t any point. As Ernie had said this morning, the Game was up, it was just waiting for the end and inside the Hysterical

Executive was a sad Boy who knew the Truth but didn’t want to tell.

Toby looked up and saw a dove rise high upwards then, clapping its wings behind its back, suddenly change direction, a full 45 degrees. Odd. Beep Beep... Tina Tina

Tina Tina Tina.. like a heartbeat the name flashing up repeatedly on the Screen of the mobile calling him…Silent.

She was wanting to talk. Fuck her, he didn’t have any time and in the end it was all her fault, this and his fried brain.

He felt like he was on the very edge of existence today and he had to concentrate just to survive. Focus. Don’t dissipate the energy Don’t take on board someone else’s pain, and

Tickle watched Tina Tina Tina turn into Diverted call

Diverted call Diverted call and then, after a beat into a 121

121 121 like a pleading…

Who let the dogs out (woof, woof, woof, woof?)

…the summer hit on full blast, fuck it he had to go on and screeching in reversal out of the car park

Who let the dogs out (woof, woof, woof, woof?)

Say, a doggy is nuttin' if he don't have a bone

10.43 and Tickle was stuck in hot traffic under the M25 interchange as if floating his insides felt like the interior of a drain, his head bobbling in the cistern, Heathrow planes coming into land but only the sound of the music and eyes closing a low rumbling beneath inside the cars hot leather and tobacco smelling like a dozy summer afternoon pub...Heineken refreshes parts others cannot reach... adverts for beer, Freedom cable in the Helsinki Hilton,

Tickle was sinking again, back into his business trip to

Finland the month before..Euro sport Blokes with Tractors,

CNN Business, Pay per View, thinking of girls, oblivion and bars, the endless loop of MudNews and a soap opera of global proportions, Death and Money, Entertainment for

America…Tossing and Turning or trying not too. Don’t be a wanker you. No sleep, reading Magz, Newsweek, Time,

Sights of Suomi, no go and it was then 3.12 fighting to avoid the TVs porn, laughter in the half light the all night half day of the Nordic Summer exhausted, grabbing the

Gideon the only thing left to read, ghoulishly lurking in the bedside drawer…

… ‘water reflects the face back to face,

so one human heart reflects another’..

Oh Gawd..

…’like a wave, double minded and unstable…

he without God will have nothing’

… it was true, he had known then, the voice calling him amid the echoing choir of drunken youth outside in the perpetual light endlessly dawning... Why? So lonely. Oh

God Why? and not wanting to hear retreating to the shame and sub standard dirt on Channel 38, Randy riding

Cherise... Oh God.. don’t let me stay awake long enough to know who I AM… ’

‘OOOOO KARRRRRRTTTT’ Beeping the road was cleared ahead. SHIT’. Flashing Lights zooming towards him into...

‘FOR FUCKS SAKE’ and Tickle slamming down his feet, fuck, just stopping before the other cars bumper in front that had suddenly braked. He slapped himself hard on each cheek; the native hue of resolution sickled o’er with the pale cast of thought’ Shakesshit suddenly coming into his head. Shut the fuck up. Hamlets the name of a cigar isn’t it? Think and look straight. Come on fuckface, do you want to live or what? To wear a tie or not to wear a tie? Now that is the real question.

It was very square at Multi Mall International plc, property, concrete, shoppers, real things rather than the vague bollocks of cyberspace. But why was he so nervous? Pre stage the great actor, 15 years ago 5000 people would have been a piece of piss and now more than two was becoming a trial. Back then he could loose himself in the part, inviting the audience to share in that suspension of belief, confident that fantasy was King… Ring a ding… but here, it was making the lie real what he was pretending to be, living a lie, not make-belief but making reality wrong, the audience the witness ratifying the falsehood, so in effect, rather than giving birth creating another persona, the acting, by lying, was in fact killing himself. O Gawd.

Calling T…Calling …Calling T… Note: active incoming calls divert. Your call is being forwarded…. … She turned off the phone, pressing the red button hard to restore her sense of control. Goodbye and the Viscon logo of a purple snake swallowing its tail fading to blank. ‘Wanker’ Tina whispered;

Toby was chasing his own tail even if he was getting lots of dough.

She felt very sad. He never took her calls anymore and never answered the mobile. Sorry he’s in a meeting. Bloody secretary. Sorry he can’t be disturbed. Sorry… Poor little wifey they’d be saying, the Office People in their fucking condescending tones, walls between her and Toby, the deadness of business. God how she hated being Her indoors, all that shit. Oh Hiya, you alright? Yeah, he’s working hard, run ragged he is. Janice would say I hope you’re feeling alright? Janice was OK, ‘Look, Ill bully him into calling you..’ Janice was the only who could get anything done there, but even when Tina did get through to

Toby he was always in a hurry, dry and cold in his tone and all she wanted was someone to talk to, close, someone she knew to be there for her, to listen without anything else involved.

Tina coughed and reached for another cigarette infront of the Telly. Reruns. It was disappointing, this BigBrother2,

Paul and Brian were being stupid and the girls were getting on her tits, all these boob jobs, it looked like they didn’t even need them, the young bodies arranged around the garden like spent statues, collapsed onto themselves in the hot rooms of the Big Brother house, made Tina feel even

509 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 more lethargic, but the little feuds and romancings of the young house mates soothed her a bit with a sense of the carefree, transporting her back to being a schoolgirl herself, red balloons and jelly, Dad calling her name. Simple really.

It was all she wanted now really; chit chat and tea and fags and the occasional spliff. No conflict, that’s the basic reason for life, isn’t it? Human company, to love and be loved back, that’s why we’re here isn’t it? Other people, being with and helping each other, get through this sodding life.

But she was alone now. Toby never here, her feeling too useless to call anyone else, again alone. I hate him, the thought suddenly came into Tinas head. There is no love.

Another thought unintended and she felt giddy, shocked as if something dangerous had got inside her when she let down her guard and she quickly lit up a cigarette, even though she already had another one on the go.

---

28.

Definition of Belief: a vague idea in which some confidence is placed

wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn

‘It’s the devils work’ the little bald man in the black three piece said. ‘That’s a bit strong JC’ replied Gerry ‘But there’s no human contact. What’s the point? ‘Click on the icon’, what do you mean by that exactly? Sounds vaguely Russian to me', the bald man continued but before Tickle could answer the younger man Gerrard Rush-Colman, new CEO of

Multimall plc turned to the older man, JC who was his No 2.

‘Look the Internet is a must, it’s the Way of the Future and we’re only making the investment of 2.5 mill which is 0.2 of out of this years Marketing budget. We see it as a test, don’t we, we agreed Jon didn’t we?’ drawled Gerry, ‘We don’t want Euroland or any other of the property bods to take the lead now do we gents? You know what young

Simon’s at Tallergands like’ and Jonny and the rest of the

Multi Mall board reluctantly concurred. There were five of them, all in dark suits, sat around the long shiny table and again they all leaned forward to try and understand what this IT chappy called Toby Tickle was going on about.

PRESENTATION INTRO>

INFINITY PORTAL SYSTEM>

SHOPKWICK CABBY>

PERSONAL SHOPPER FOR LIFE>

PERSONALISATION>

DEEP PROFILE = HIGHLY TARGETING SELLING=MULTI-

PRODUCT

ENTIRE LIFE LIFESTYLE COMPANION>

MULTI PLATFORM>

ANYTIME ANY PLACE>

WIN WIN WIN SOLUTION>

FUTURE DEVELOPMENT>

SCHEDULE>

COST>

Blah blah de blah and more PowerPoint shite and Tickle, like a preacher of a new gospel spent the next hour trying to convert the old brethren to online shopping as a New

Way of Life that he didn’t quite believe in himself.

No Connection. Network Bus…that wasn’t right, thought

Tina, looking at her phone. When would the network be so busy that you couldn’t get through? The Millennium, the big

Party, Midnight 2000 was the only time before, everyone wanting to find their loved ones, everyone wanting to talk to each other, to connect at the same time or did it happen at Dis death too, everyone moping into the phone together competing with each other who had the most tears, crying as much for themselves as her. No Connection...Network

Busy… fuck. Maybe there had been some Disaster she hadn’t yet heard about. What would it have been like in a big war, mobiles beeping all the time during the night on the Western Front? But there hadn’t been one big enough since the mobile were invented, except in the War with

Toby; perhaps simply it was their bad vibe that had made the technology go all wrong. She knew now, she had had to admit to herself at last, that there was no connection with

Toby anymore, no good one at least, their love had been run ragged by the disappointment each had had to endure, the babies, the work, the losses they shared but separately on the other side of and it was as if the other was there only to double the opposites pain. Shit why couldn’t they talk? It was good to talk, wasn’t it? They were always being told that by the British Telecom ads. Oh Gawd and

‘It’s not fucking sustainable; the whole concepts flawed’.

12.43 and Dr Karl Smythe was shouting at Tickle, a piece of pink prawn caught between his teeth, again deeply insulted by the Infinity Portal and his current rant just made Tickle sick. ‘The whole thing’s going to fall over, the Software’s riddled with bugs and the Integration of incompatible components is bound to fail, it always does …None of the

Directors or Investors know the difference between Cabby,

Fanatics, Empathy, Epiphany, Engage, or Rush, it’s all technie gobbledygook to them, just numbers on a spreadsheet, actual things, working entitities, are sort of an irritant, spoiling the elegance of their financial models, business plans and stupidly fantastic projections, I tell you it’s bloody maddening, it makes me want to get out of this silly dot com game and go back to the Maudsley full time,

Neuroscience and the simplicity of stem cells research with

Weil. At least there the rational is honoured, the Truth is seen, the insanity of the consequences official. Here.. pah..idoicy totale’ and he took another mouth of the prawn

‘Don’t you see Tickle?’ he went on, ‘ It’s not the point anymore, things. The world of Money carrys on without them. Things. Money makes the world go round and things, it exists in a different dimension, separate from all that and us. Money now can replicate itself, makes more out of itself, than through thing, through double bluff, lying, manipulation and well, pure magic really. If you control the

Universe you can do that and America does. Money begets

Money and that is the Truth the Bible never told’. Dr Karls taut brow and sleepless eyes were questioning Tickle sharply, but it was all beyond Toby, he didn’t understand, he’d never got inside Money, got an understanding to how it worked, he just needed to get as much money as possible to survive now, before the whole thing went weird. ‘The stupid are certain, the intelligent full of doubts - that’s what our friend Alfred said’ Karl continued now spouting,

‘Einstein that is, the fucking fundamentalists are taking over the world trying to control the outcome, make all certain enough to die... Look at Bush…Boyhood cruelty to animals, obsessive behavior, easy to offend, holding

515 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 grievances, I tell you he’s a paranoid megalomaniac and the world is going to go caput, his disease is it, this Dot com madness shows the markets are already infected, addictions are rife wherever you care to look.. Talking of which how’s yours?’ Dr Karl sneered; this subject really was apt for research defects so evident and his mate’s is malleable too. Tina, his little student was his for the taking if he wanted to, sitting there mooning at him in the front row, loving him for his minds clarity and Get to know the weakness of the ally because they may become an adversary soon, Management Mantra No 8. ‘Yeah I heard it on the Radio; the President blowing up chickens as a child and ..,’ said Tobys strained fingers tearing apart his cheese and pickle bap without eating it ignoring Karls aside. ‘It annoys me’ went on Karl ‘the ignorant man who sees Born

Again Christianity as some form of intellectual life. Fuck it, the world is now run by a gimp’.

Beep Beep – Tobys. ‘Hi Janice, Alright? Yeah. Quick What?

Fuck. Yeah. Shit- What? Shit.’ Tickles face crumpled up into itself ‘Cabby had crashed, one server down, frigging RITZU’ swore Toby, thinking maybe its Strike with his threatened virus attack, the Logic Bomb he’d joked of planting finally

516 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 going off. Oh Shit. Tickle needed Cabby for the Demo this afternoon with GlobAir, the Big One, it had to work, Santa would be there, Mission Impossible, Save the Company all

Dens shit…, It's the final countdown The final countdown and Tickle needed to get back and cover his tracks fast.

‘Gotta go Doctor, trouble at the ranch’ ‘OK’ shouted Karl after him, prawn flesh still flailing about in between his razor teeth. ‘Don’t forget what I said: if they don’t address the structural weakness inherent in the integration the whole fucking Infinity thing is going to come tumbling down to the ground kersplatt’.

1.11. Tickle felt like he was actually hobbling behind his own tortuous frame, separate but chasing it, as it rushed across the road to get the car and get back to the office.

Glob was at 2.15. Beep Beep… ‘Yeah Tickle here’ No one.

Beep Beep… A Suzuki heading straight for him. ‘Get out the way you cunt’ and the police bike almost hit him. Where the fuck did he put his car? Shit. Beep Beep… ‘Hello, Hello,

Toby are you there Tickle are you?’, Oh God he was going mad again, voices in the crowd. It was his mobile, the call was open, it was Tina. Oh God. What the fuck did she want? ‘Yeah… Quick, Anything urgent?’ ‘ No I was just ringing for a chat really, hardly seen you, at all really,

517 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 lately, you got back so late gone before I woke up, I thought you might, you know, want to talk, lunch break you know’…..Tickle suddenly felt very angry, his grip tightening around the throbbing phone. ‘Lunchbreak? Im not sitting around with cups of tea and chit chats like you you know’.

Tickle pictured her with a Silk Cut in her fingers, sniggering with Ellen or some little student counsellor laughing at the silly businessman stressing himself out. It was all her fault this, wasn’t it, his predicament, he wouldn’t have even been doing this fackin job if it wasn’t for her. ‘I haven’t got time now Tina,’ he shouted over the traffic ‘Go and play with the cat while I earn the money, for you and the house, and for that bloody Baby that doesn’t seem able to be born….’ He’d gone too far. ‘Oh Shit , Sorry I didn’t…’ he didn’t mean to say that and for a moment he felt the hurt streaming back down the phone, through the air now suddenly desperate to make a connection with her, the little bit of him for too long he had not allowed himself to hear at all. ‘Look I'm sorry Tina I didn’t mean to, it would be good to talk, I feel terrible I feel..’ but and feeling awkwardly open the profit and loss machine mode came clicking back in Tickle telling himself, Be nice… need sex.

‘Got to go now, Sorry, I’d like to talk but.. Let’s go out tonight, a nice meal, talk yeah’, he knew he was getting

518 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 close to his own boiling point so it would be worth it, the dosh and the hassle, for the sex that was the only solution he knew to trying to make the peace. ‘Its good to talk but it’s better to fuck eh’ maybe BT should have pointed out.

He made another note on his Current List. Ring Janice and get her to buy scent or some shit for Tina. ‘OK Tina darling?’ but the line had gone dead. Click.

Odd. That click. Was someone listening? thought Tickle.

He’d read about KORALE Incorporated, the Corporate

Intelligence guys and Den had had the office debugged by them a few weeks back but were they onto him now, whoever they were, had they somehow accessed his head, the hard drive of self serving machinations and card stack of lies. Den, or a competitor, Glob Div, or the Fraud squad, whoever the cunts were they were out to get me he was sure it was all going wrong, he sensed it was all about to topple over with Tina just being a witness perhaps better out the way. Server down, bugs everywhere, riddled, RITZU shirty, Cabby fucked, the whole system was cracking up and the Infinity shares were sliding down. It’s her fault,

Tina is dragging me under Toby told himself and my fucking herpes on the back of my head is beginning to

519 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 explode…‘Mummy, Mummy where are you?’ Toby heard that little bit of him again, crying out inside, ‘We all have a fear of being dropped don’t we?’ she’d said not long before she’d died too long ago, ‘I mean, the way we treat our babies. Not like the Indian ladies, all safe and sound with their swaddling cloths’ and now she was going too, Mums replacement, the one who had held him, had always been there, the only one he had ever trusted, dropped now to

Gawd knows where? …that undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveler returns…

Dead.

Oh God

And what about him?

Tobys skins began to tingle from the nape to the scalp the fags-and-coffee gut wrenching and chest sore. His mouth was very dry. Water, he needed water but he was standing in the middle of the hot road now blinking in the thick fumes and there wasn’t a break in the traffic at all. In front of him a black-glassed building squat and ugly, turning left were the Yard, the glass towers of police HQ, and turning

520 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 right a glimpse of a path towards the spires of the Abbey shimmering in the heat. Oh shit he was stuck, waiting for the dip in the traffic so he could get across the road. Keep it up Keep it up Come on you prick. He stepped forward, a black cab there coming right at him screeching to a halt a faceless shape gesticulating behind the glass. ‘You Kar…’

Oh Shit, Where did he put the car? There. Oh No. Yellow metal. Fuck, he’d been clamped, Oh Gawd and Fear sloshed in his midriff melting. He was fucked, three counts and you are ..atishyou atishyou all fall down. There was a leaflet stuffed in the Screen. Exec rescue Ultra Rapid Declamping service £500... 30 mins max… Ring Now. He did. Fuck it, the Money was only a couple of hours work, but it was odd how it got taken off you so fast as quickly as it came, the quick money and he really needed Sex tonight definitely now or he felt he was going to disappear, everything drained away from him now.

Beep Beep ‘We got cut off..It wasn’t you was it’ It was Tina

‘Just listen to me, just talk’ that plea in the open endedness of her voice, the asking to be held made him all of a sudden screw up, horrid inside, hating himself the bit she was trying to reach terrified it would vanish and he just started

The line went dead again. He didn’t mean to, just did.

Too afraid to admit the need for love and too afraid to receive it when offered... Who said that? Gwen? That little bit of him again. Why was he always pushing her away?

‘STOP VIOLENCE AGAINST WOMEN’, the leaflet had come through the door yesterday and he’d taken it as a message or a threat, although it was just a subscription to Amnesty.

But he knew he couldn’t go on like this, they couldn’t and they had now become you instead.

1.20 Shit, he was going to be late for Glob waiting for the declamper. Time to kill; time for a walk. Keep it going, head to the grindstone and Tickle set off down the canyon of other glass Towers, the Ministry buildings for the

Environment, Work and Trade, head down among the squares of paving, Come on you cunt, head down, Keep it going, head to the grindstone feet following the vertical lines between the paving slabs and all of a sudden something soft underfoot, it was another dead bird, another sparrow, its wings outspread as if crucified in the gaps

Tickle felt something, inside. Was it sorrow?

Fuck it. Keep your head down, to the grindstone and in his head Tickle was frenetically shuffling the deck of Picture

Postcards to keep him going, the farm, Tara and the hideaway ranch in Tivuli, www.myperfectlife.tv, the happy woman, dogs, ducks and a gaggle of kids, the Picture

Postcard of how it should be Wishyouwerehere…and to finish John has some interesting News from down under..

Toby Tickle the finest Hamlet since Burton has been rediscovered after 10 years as a Virtual Recluse, living on his own island bought from a fortune made in the dotcom boom, he has just finished a gripping new movie Millennium

Hamlet hailed as the Citizen Kane for our times, written produced directed by Tickle who i being called the New

Howard Hughes…But it would have to be 21st Century

Hamlet now and Toby knew it was already out of date, a fraud, a lie, a joke, it was just part of giant con trick to try and believe there was something other than this, the awful reality he was now part of which was, ultimately his. He

523 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 needed another story to star in, something other than himself and it seemed everyone around him did also, all being in the con trick that now no one knew how to halt.

Keep it going, head to the grindstone. He’d been walking, he realized, not knowing where he was going, trying to look purposeful, automaton, running away from the split cement bag emptying out over his back. There was gap in the wall, back from the glass battlements of Victoria Street, oddly, an almost Italian Piazza, a red brick edifice rising up inlaid with colored stone into the Campanali; the word came from somewhere to describe the Tower or was it a mosque? A

Cathedral. He’d never known it was there. Without thinking he took a deep breath and went inside.

Quiet. Almost Empty. The interior opened up like the sea; so much bigger than the outside it seemed, the Nave receding into a darkness at the end. A giant Christ dangled from the ceiling: body, legs, nails, head disproportionately large, all adding up to something monumental but sad.

Toby sat and felt his sores bite into the back of his collar as he looked up, but he felt strangely reassured by the pain; at least it verified he was still alive.

Almost silence.

He heard his own breath, it seemed for the first time for a long time, in the huge quiet just the shuffling of feet, old women praying and strange looking men dotted about the chairs. A choir was practicing somewhere hidden, a gaggle of children walking down a separate nave. He didn’t think, he sat listening, looking blankly up at the altar in front of the darkness and all he saw was his own emptiness and the exhausted longing that lay behind. He was just another head now, among the ranks of wooden chairs in the vast hall as people came back went one by one around him; each seemed intent on something, being something, as if waiting there, listening but in a way knowing it would not come.

Toby sat with his panic, quiet, his emptiness big but subsiding in his gut, and he sat and sort of prayed, talking not quite to himself hoping the pain would go away. And very slowly he began to cry. He cried for Tina, he cried for the dead babies and the life he hadn’t had. He cried for the

525 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 person he was before he’d lost it, them, her and it, he cried for his life the hope abandoned and he cried for the loss of that faith he’d once had, in love, in art and in the indisputable Other, whatever IT was, the thing that made him feel everything would be alright, in the end.

…like a wave, double minded and unstable… without God you will have nothing… voices washed in from the Helsinki darkness, the words echoing around the perpetual half-light inside his heart. It was him and he was all washed up on the beach. Ride the wave Man the sewage green eye still saying like a snake. The great surf was an illusion, it was over now leaving him without a life, the life that had breathed briefly then ceased clinging to the wombwell, then, ceasing to be, loosing grip and falling away to nothingness…the undiscovered country…the lines he’d learnt by heart but only now coming to know their meaning.

Tickle closed his eyes and a sort of gentleness was holding him, a cool hand and he saw the lights, shapes of light and dark inside his lids changing circles, clouds and in the middle as a centre a bright blot of light.

And opening his eyes he was in a new place. He felt more rested than he had for a long time.

Something had happened.

The choir had stopped. A stream of people was making their way down the length of the Nave, passing tables of candles placed along the corridor of chapels to the side.

Light a candle for…? The dead babies? Toby realized he hadn’t grieved for the babies, his miscarriages, for his life, ever really. Anger was all he had felt and Lust as the palliative to the lack it left, living mostly in the just about bearable soup in between. What would be there without them?

Just him. Now, here in the huge quiet, he just felt sad and it was surprising to him, that it didn’t after all feel that bad.

10p for candles. Just night lights. There was a small display of pictures around one chapel, Remember 1984; the original Big Brother and it was the year he’d started drinking, the tabloid humiliation, the disappearance, the

527 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 year he’d lost his way. Remember BHOPAL Was it an anagram? On Dec 3rd shortly after midnight, poison gas leaked from a factory in Bhopal killing… and there were pictures of women, dirty scarves draped over screaming heads open hands stretched out pleading. 16 years without retribution the International Campaign for Justice in Bhopal needs your help. Crying women, bloodshot eyes of dazed men and a twisted child looking out knarled stunted limbs no ears looking out, a still stare at the lens. In this huge howl of pain Tobys knew his own grief was just a sigh, a whisper inside this the giant ‘Why?’ that he now knew somehow that he was part of. And the knowledge seemed to make the pain OK.

A door closed somewhere and a gust of cool wind moved between the pillars almost blowing out the candles, their flames being pulled after it then coming back to themselves, struggling back to centre. Toby wondered if he should pray. What for? And it came again, from deeper down this time as if the panic like a cloud, had crumpled in on itself and it had begun to rain. Tears splattered onto the marble and his whole body shook from a space in his back a little bit before he didn’t know was there. Stop it for fucks

Tickle tightened his grip and gritted his teeth trying not to grab hold of the breath. It felt his neck was trying to burst open at last, the sore trying to rid itself of whatever was inside burning like a brand and then a cool hand was resting on his shoulders, a peace unseen and Toby came back into himself and turning a person was there, a bald man, clear face with still eyes, a small smile.

‘Don’t Worry. Be still. It is as it is. All will be well. Think to whom this is happening. It’s not all of you. Remember it’s not all of you. Don’t worry my son. It is as it is.’ The Man said, ‘Go well’.

The stillness in the monks eyes caught something and Toby turned away a speechlessness taking hold of him. Which

Me? I AM you mean, AM I? and turning back to ask, the monk had already gone.

29.

"It is always more difficult to fight against faith than against

knowledge."

Adolf Hitler

The day had brightened coming out of the church, or perhaps it was in contrast to the dark insides. Stepping away from the strange catechism interior and the visitation from the monk- Was he a monk, or was he imagining it?

What was that? Toby felt like it was something like a gift but thinner than air.

Back into the piazza, something had dropped away also and

Tickle had lost, it seemed for the first time in an eternity, the compulsion to rush. A woman was standing staring at a collection of pigeons eagerly eating breadcrumbs, leftovers from her sandwiches, each constantly fluttering in fear that they’d miss out on the food, all in the bustle maneuvering to get something. The women looked up seeing Tickle standing and smiled. They had been in the same place for a moment and to Tickle it was as if a bucket of water had been thrown on him. It seemed a long time since he had seen anyone properly; always in opposition, on edge, in

A blur streamed along the post lunch pavement, the Palm

Pilot diaries being fulfilled as the ranks of office workers made their way back to their cubicles. Tickle moved into them and let himself be carried along towards Parliament

Square. The car will have been sorted out and he’d be back in time, or, if he wasn’t, well, he finally admitted, there was nothing he could do about it and it didn’t really matter anyway. Did he really care? Anyway even he couldn’t control the traffic.

OSAMA THE TARGET – US CONSIDERS ASSAULT More headlines shouted out revenge, PEADO HUNG BY CRAZED

MOB, WAR CRIMES LATEST, CLINTON CIGAR GIRL ON

TOUR, BECK POSH BABY… and images streamed into

Tickles head, a strobe of shit: Havanas and Cruise Missiles,

Black on White and a Newsnight cocktail, a virtual reality game being played out, the global drama a soap opera on

MONDO TV and then the mutant child from Bhopal reappeared, as if pushing through a shouting crowd and held Tickle there for a moment again in its defiant gaze; a

531 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 mother holding in her tears and inside Toby felt a link between his own loss and their pain multiplied a million times, the dead sailor floating in a foreign sea, his girlfriends crying the women in the ruins, the farmer in the stolen corn, the endless horizons weeping, the World filling up with fear and somehow his pain struggling to connect together with theirs the Others through the bludgeoned senses saturated with the massed ranks of Images shouting out the Worlds Denial.

‘The Markets will sustain us, it the fittest will survive and we believe at Infinity that our Portal solution is State of the

Art and with partners as yourself we can ride through the shakeout intact..’ It was 14.36 and the meeting had already started; Den introducing the Show. It was his Final

Countdown and this, the meet with Glob, was the Big One, the key to the company turnaround, a deal bolstering the share price then sell up and get out clean. The exec management had been preparing for it for weeks, ‘Come on

Lads we’re going over the top here’ Den had been chanting,

‘so gird your loin and remember England expects or I fucking do at least’. Santa had been back for a week and even Benny had left the gee-gees and the other rides alone

532 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 for a while. Global Airways was the Big Boy on the block, the favourite of Thatcher, a model of ruthless efficiency, market capitalization of 32 bill, Footsie 10 and Infinity was trying to get a purchase into its hide desperately seeking blood.

GlobAir its turn had finally decided it was going Online and being Glob it was going to be the best. Money was no object, Infinity was a trendy little dot-com but its worth had hit a billion, that magic number so it was OK to play with and this was the Mega Corporations little amble on the wild side. Hey let's go crazy guys and loosen our ties and in an open neck double cuff shirt blazing the Company blue

Shane Dogitz was sat there, neat little beard, fiddling with one of those brand new flip-top Erikssons, 8in of shiny black, very good for the new WAP. MD Commercial at only

32, 400k, car, pension, health, mortgage allowance and, of course, an unlimited number of Air Miles he obviously was adept at reading the signs and he saw now as the Other lesser executive entered late that, Tickle Fall Guy designate, was toast.

‘Sorry, Traffic’ said Toby and he felt the cascade of demoting glares putting him in his place; Gordon’s snarl,

Dens plastic smile and Santa didn’t even look up from his papers. ‘Nice of you to join us, fighting fires at the front line

I suspect.’ Den struggled not to sound too pissed off.

‘Tickle, this is Shane’. The man didn’t get up... ‘and this is

Tariq, Globs IT guy and our lovely lady friend is called

Pauline. PR’, another clipped goatee and a tiny mouthed women in a black Armani looking very stern, her little eyes staring straight through Tickle, intent on the real power behind. ‘Long lunch hey? Not back to our old tricks are we

Ticks?’ said Gordon ‘Anybody here remember Shame, our little Hitler here, No? Right, neither do I to be frank, went straight to video didn’t it’? he added sniggling. ‘Yes, very good, but we need to proceed’ Shane said in deep Scottish tones, ‘I have to leave in 43 minutes latest so we’d better get on’, he spoke very slowly indeed, like Sean Connery, making a very clear statement, that he, who had the most money and the least Time available, was the most important person here, so everyone else better hurry up.

‘So taking Glob airmiles credit card scheme allocating flight points for redemption, and correlating them to the credit

534 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 and purchasing history of individuals, this data combined with the click thru journey via the Infinity Portals rich inventory of choices-, advertising, content or e-commerce will give a very clear idea who the users, your potential clients, are… ten minutes later Tickle was half way into his set speech sensing, and unable to help it, the belief in his executive character draining rapidly away….the Infinity

Portal will provide the most advanced personalization engine available, across all medium, Web, Mobile and TV, he droned on sounding like a robot and later at participating supermarkets and high street stores recording all individualized activity, be that click thru or browsing or online purchasing of the user, so an extremely comprehensive profile of the User will be accrued in the

Glob customer database, powered by the Infinity portal its engine in turn powered by Cabby Version 5 which is almost complete… This role had gone on too long, the play felt like a rerun in an endless loop, and in the future other database, car, health, insurance with be included providing the richest profile ever developed….and he knew that he could not do this anymore...to enable brands to service your Users to the optimum level and for your customer , a means by which a rich range of highly defined choices will be offered, catalogued according to a weighted taxonomy

Tickle suddenly interrupted his schpeel, the urgency of the sales patter evaporating from his face. ‘Of course we don’t want the great Glob being accused of predatory behaviour, being exposed as the highly efficient and essentially heartless organism which it is, whose very life force is shaped entirely to the purpose of exploiting their customers for every fucking penny they’ve got, do we now? We don’t want that, do we lads?’ and there was a classroom of disturbed boys fiddling with their mobiles and Pauline shifting uncomfortably in her too tight skirt with Gordon suppressing a nervous giggle. ‘I’m not sure if this is going against the Maggie creed or not, but it’s not very nice is it, trying to control the consumer in such a way, is it? Really peeping into their lives without permission, tracking what they are doing by camera or buying card in order to get as much the Money off them as you can, it isn’t very good is it? Then badgering them to borrow more, so they can buy more, in a perpetual merry-go-round, going around faster and faster buying and borrowing buying and borrowing until twisted up in debt and overwork, driving too fast then

536 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 doing them by the speed camera so more money and more worry increase until totally stressed out, they all spins off their own top and crash. Its not very good is it, eh fucking everyone up just for more dosh?’

Toby took a deep breathe, surprising himself how happy he felt; it was as if he was about to float away, the audience there hovering in a suspension of disbelief, but Toby knew it would turn to anger if he couldn’t stop himself going on,

‘There’s enough pressures on them, on us, without this, aren’t there? We need as much time as we can get, a place to be ourselves, to find out who were are, to just be, and with other people, fully, not not to be but to be, fully, with the others and that’s more important isn’t it than anything else, isn’t it? Integrity, Friendship, Love? Isnt it? Far more important than money isn’t it? More than fucking shopping anyway. To be ourselves, helping each other to be who they are, that’s the point isn’t it? To be human, not reduced to being just a User, a shopping basket that’s there just to be continually filled?’

Silence.

This guy had obviously gone mad. And he had even taken

Her name in vain and the room became ice cold. Santa was noiselessly blowing up, his face now puce red smudging his beards edge pink. ‘What had happened to Tickle?’ he asked himself ‘And to think of the benefits I’ve given him coming in here a spineless celeb, the little cunt’. Den was already assessing the security implication for getting the twat out of the door without a fuss, Was he armed, another Dotcom psycho like the Momentum Guy? and Gordon was trying to stop himself peeing himself he was so excited about the prospect Tickles removal would create for himself. And Toby just continued looking at them, sitting there fingering their mobiles little anxious pricks and he felt at last as though he was back in himself, shed of some mouldy old coat he didn’t know he had been wearing and now at last he could again stand up straight.

And he laughed out loud, he couldn’t help himself, as he saw that this, his whole Infinity story he’d been clinging onto, was now rapidly fading away and he was finding himself being able to breathe fully again. The business, this

‘Sorry times up, you’ve got the general idea anyway,’ he announced to the stunned office, ‘Good luck but I’m off to try and make up with my wife..’

And she rolled over again and saw there was nothing but a shadow of himself he had dressed her in.

Three hours later Santa was sat fiddling with his fat Cross pen slumped on the Executive Suite Toilet, his lineless face hung there motionless, a seagull hovering against the wind behind him through the triple glazed window. The CEO Dot com pioneer, entrepreneur extremis and net guru without a technical clue was listening to Den outside the cloakroom door, recounting another Sunningdale golf chat. ‘…I was talking to Gerrers at the 13th about the TexElec takeover, you know a bit of a nudge and a wink and he says the US

Energy guy would be interested in some sort of share swap.

Look at Enron Santa, its going sky high’ and the consummate deal maker began to register the existence of

539 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 another potential play, numbers automatically beginning to flicker behind his eyelids, currents zipping between the plus and minus of generative possibility- that company to that company, 1+1 = 2 + 1. You had to have an affinity for it in the end, not just learnt, a feel for it and he’d been living deals since he was 10. O Gawd, come on, push and puce red he suddenly realized that nothing really, since then, had gone seriously wrong; everything had progressed, smoothly in the ever burgeoning confidence of his positive self regard. Until now that is, Glob gone, the share price beginning to plummet and the Billion Dollar tag disappearing fast. O gawd, I B fucking S. A war was beginning to develop in his midriff, a violent ruction happening just above his gut, a seismic groan asking for something in a language he couldn’t quite grasp. Was it the insanity of that twat Tickle marching out of the Glob meet with his ‘ sorry I’ve got to go and be nice to my wife shit’ ?

O gawd …Whatever this was it was an alien sensation happening inside Santa and, although he didn’t know it, it was part of an amalgam of feeling called Unease. ‘OK Den, send through the Heads. Now Piss Off. I’ve got to try and have this crap’.

Who let the dogs out (woof, woof, woof, woof)

OOOOAAARRR a coon car passed outside blaring. Fuck it, it was almost over and he made himself calm down. This discomfort could develop into the potentially fatal condition of Doubt sensed Santa, and he knew Indifference was the source of the Power, not to be ruffled by anything, to be cold, rational, that’s how Money liked it in their Execs to whom they gave it, the Money to play with.

He’d been in the dotcom from the beginning, seen the game develop but even he, Child of the Big Bang, was surprised by how big it had got the bubble, including the half a billion dollars he was now worth. He couldn’t cash in any for 2 years; in the Directors agreements to make the

Company sound more solidly long term for the less gambly investors, the old biddies and gamblers in the sticks, but the Money obviously knew he’d stashed away few mill in

Jersey on trust which, thanks to Raz, had reincarnated itself magically in Nicosia, impregnable the ultimate get out

541 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 clause. No, they weren’t going to get it off him this time and he’d finally, feeling his bowels loosen at last, after twenty years hard graft, managed to get ahead of the game.

OOAARR. Santa pushed again but nothing came out. Fuck, pain wasn’t on the agenda. Ignore it and it will go away.

No, it wasn’t the money really, it was the fact he’d proved his point to Warlock and all the other fuckers who had tried to trip him up in the story of his ascent. The point was he’d got through the rite of passage now, from Minion to Boss, from the Fucked to the Fucker, it was done. OOAARR the question now was how he was going to get out without too much mess. Saving Face the Japs called it. He still saw it, the Vision of Infinity of course and he still believed because you had to in order to sell growing exponentially encrustating in blue chip. Yeah it could have been Ten of everything all over again, but in his gut Santa knew it wasn’t going to go on much longer, the balloon had a hole in it and he couldn’t help think that twat Tickle had ended up being the Pin. Cunt. OOAARR No, the whole thing, he knew really, had grown too fast, the Land Grab, the Big

Boys in the City as always pushing for more, the Millennium

Money needed. But now the party was definitely over, the madness had subsided the Smart Boys had fucked off and banked their dosh and now the Money was looking at actual revenue rather than the virtual future of the could be and well, it was finding there wasn’t actually any there.

Fucking Users, the suckers that they were selling this shit to, hadn’t caught up with what they were supposed to do according to the PLAN, the time had been scheduled and if they didn’t play ball soon the shit was really going to hit the fan and then everyone had better duck down fast. Shit he had to get out soon. OOAARR Santa puffed out, his white shirt becoming dark in patches, like the Polar expanse beginning to melt under the Ozone hole. The whole system was now on steroids and stretched so tight by the Boys trying to hit their fantastic targets always set just beyond the achievable, that the growth demanded was too much for the system to sustain and in the end the vital organs would inevitably fail. OOAARR And another jolt happened above the deep plate of the pelvis on his left hand side, a ripple of mysterious fluid spreading through the vessels worryingly making its way right up to the heart, its

543 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 gravitational force opening up a hole beneath it, a sensation developing that was almost frightening, like an open ended questioning – Was it to be him, the Fall Guy? the City Boys would choose soon. OOAARR, Fear, that had come along as well as Doubt.

Fuck this – he had to do something, fast. Action, anything was better than inaction, to stop Dealing was Death. End of. Santa rubbed his chest again. His heart, the tissue wrapped as a fist, had always been driven on by the what might be, the Carrot and in stopping now and looking at what is, it could be highly dangerous. Fuck this, he needed to set up a Fall Guy fast. Gordon was too young, Ernie too old, Den too sharp, Bennie too close and of course, it was that fucking Tickle, obviously he wasn’t one of us and the

Fucker had obviously gone doolally anyhow. OOAARR Fuck him, a little bit of paperwork, a PC hack here and there- maybe he’d give that Nerd, what was his name, Strike, a call. Yeah, a bit of Identity tinkering was all that was needed to turn that Cunt, the spent Celeb, into a Twat.

OOAARR and there, PLOP, something landed in the water beneath him and Santa felt a slight release, the great CEO

544 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 feeling restored. Ah yes, a sacking that was what was needed, restructuring usually did the trick. Yeah, a clear out now we’re talking, but let’s not sack the Twat just yet. No, let’s wait awhile, make it hurt and get the optimum blame value out of him first. Always Optimize your Assets. First off, let’s get the little fucker to sack some of his staff, make him squirm. PLOP. Yeah, there’s nothing like a sacking, purges the system and makes you feel better, particularly witnessing the discomfort in the would-be bosses, and for the rest it makes them more controllable, more afraid.

Refreshed, calm, expunged now and Santa decided on pink, ripping off the cellophane from the new Lingwort shirt. More

Virgin investors were coming in this aft and he just had to keep the Money moving that was the key, then the company slap up tonight Champers and a bit of tucker and then a bit of… yeah Tickles PA what was she called, yeah that Janice is nice. Perhaps he’d offer her the job of being his Executive PA instead, part of the ritual humiliation without telling him straight and yeah that bitch, simple but loyal, nice, big knockers fat arse, something to get yours hands on, yeah nice, then Thank God it Fucking Friday and off on Raz’s Gulfstream Jet for a bit of a laugh with Ray and

545 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the Boyz. Poor Ray, got himself fucked, couldn’t help himself going to knock off that bird in Spain. Errr, well not now, but nevermind Tel and the rest would be there. Wasn’t it Linseed and Kiwi that Raz had recommended for the dodgy arse, yeah and Goats Yogurt that always did the trick for him?

This is BT 1571 There is no one available to take your call please leave a message…she wasn’t in. Toby was hiding behind the odd metal sculpture outside the Infinity Office,

No Gods No Masters, trying to get through to his sort of almost no more wife. Tina, his darling Tina, its all over he wanted to tell her, he couldn’t take it anymore, the strain of playing the exec, always being away from her, apart from himself, and he was so sorry for being such a shit head, treating her like an object, only for sex, and he could change, he would change, he wanted to be with her and he knew how now he had to be with her, with everyone, someone who looked at people as people, rather than making everyone cartoon cutouts, caricatures in a crap play; Saul the plastic gangster, Simon the cartoon shyster,

Benny the Perv, and Strike the James Bond Nerd, Toby realized he saw them all as objects rather than real people,

Calling T…Calling …Calling T… Note: active incoming calls divert. Your call is being forwarded This is the Vishcon messaging service for 07773004523 Please leave a message after the tone… Oh Tina where the fuck was she?

She didn’t say where she was going? Was she having an affair? He thought of Tara. Had she already packed up and left for home? O gawd why had he used her as his escape, and his shame, and anyway what did he really feel? And

Tickle suddenly realized that he hadn’t talked to his wife properly, face to face, for over a year, two since the loss of the second baby in fact and … All he’d done since then was sulk and shout, secretly blaming her for the end of the possibility for their postcard Life… Oh God, where was she now? Oh God he wanted to tell her about the Bhopal Child or at least the effect, the knowledge that he now needed to stop running stop grabbing, to listen, be still, receive and, somehow, to give. It is what it is. And he wanted to tell her that he just wanted to hold her, not fuck her, just be with her, go back to zero rather than argue, get away from the

547 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 judgement and condemnation, the argument over who had made the largest sacrifice and who was to blame for each of their disappointments, we just wanted to...

Calling T…Calling …Calling T Note: active incoming calls divert. Your call is being forwarded... Fuck she didn’t pick up, the rejection beginning to open a pit in his gut…Oh shit it made him sick this, it made feel him so weak, exposed and it felt like he could only hold the window open for a short time, this asking for help, the waiting for her, the vulnerability and the willingness to be other than he had been, keep open the gap in himself through which he was reaching out to the something unknown a question but to keep open to keep saying Yes. If he didn’t get a hold of her now, tell her how he so feared sinking back into himself demoted and debased, an in-between thing, lukewarm neither hot or cold, stuck in his aloneness, forever with nowhere else to go. To be or not to be? Neither. Effectively

Dead.

……’like a wave, double minded and unstable…

he without God will have nothing’…

T calling T calling T calling…and Tina pressed REJECT a third time. She was at the miscarriage clinic in Paddington lying like a slab of meat on the cold leather of the consulting room feeling uptight. She’d been loath to go but Toby had been going on about it for a year and she couldn’t deal with sitting on her fear around it again. She had to show willing; she didn’t want others to say she hadn’t tried. But why should she do what he said? Who’s fucking body was it anyway? It was her pregnancy and she knew it was all about how you felt, inside. The rest, a mystery, wasn’t it?

‘Well we’ve had back a number of the tests and as we said it all seems as it should be: Cervix OK, Ovarian function, sufficient number of good quality oocytges, no sign of chromosomal anomaly, or embryo abnormalym,’ the male voice made her sound like a car, ‘and the primary

Antiphospholipid Syndrome tests were negative no lupus anticoagulant- and Mrs, er Ms, er Miss.. We did use the dilute Russels viper venom time which is very sensitive...

So, perhaps it’s the antibodies.’ The Consultant took off his glasses and stared morosely at the papers before him.

‘Anti bodies..there is new research up in Leeds.. Hopkinton,

549 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 clever man.. Some success… It’s been proven that in some rare cases, the antibodies of the man and the woman are actually incompatible, each rejects the other, the foetus had been too weak, effectively each half destroys the other...so Hopkinson, the Leeds treatment attacks that problem, altering the structure of the particular antibody, or something like that…’ The seemingly exhausted man tailed off not really wanting to show his ignorance further. ‘The treatment is quite arduous, I understand, and expensive and at this early stage far from guaranteed to work’; and he looked up as if for the first time registering that there was another human being in the room. ‘And er, Mrs,

Ms..I’m not sure how much you actually want to go on…?’

‘I’m not sure how much you want to go on…?’ the question echoed outside at the bus stop in Praed Street; Tina felt flummoxed. Toby and Tina, Him and her, her and him, pushing and pulling, pulling and pushing but they were not together, really, Toby was hardly ever there now, she could never get through to him and his world seemed to be about everything and nothing and certainly not about her. She’d been prodded and pricked and her mind just didn’t feel strong enough to cope with counseling anymore; the course

550 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 was still on the introduction level and getting paid seemed an age away. She felt like some sort of white good, a fridge, microwave, an oven gone defective, a domestic hiccup that couldn’t burp and it was all wrong. Why the fuck should she feel so bad about herself?

Fuck it, fuck him, she was tired of her life being dictated by the Baby, the Body and Him her other half, or so they’d always said. One flesh. Bollocks Fuck that, it was old hat now in the 21st century, who could you trust it was too frightening you had to look after yourself. She was her own person, more than just a reproductive ball and, to prove it, she turned on her half heel and walked into Paddington

Station behind her and got onto the Seven o’clock to

Penzance.

30.

Thoughtcrime does not entail death: thoughtcrime is

death."

- George Orwell, 1984,

18.52. Tickle felt sick. It had been a long day. A living hell all afternoon. The sacking of Bez, Jacob and Evangeline was not nice and Janice had almost gone too but for Santa then not signing it off. Tobys brave confidence in the Boardroom with Globair, was now weakened by the disappearance of

Tina was feeling a fraud stuck in an old life, sensing he was about to be crucified, sat in the Company slap up,

Quarterly Review and Bonding Session no one talking to him. Even Janice wasn’t speaking to him anymore, giving him the pig eye too. He was the one who had fucked it, had put the first crack in the glass the illusion that was Infinity, throwing the stone at the windscreen that was now driving too fast towards an unknown ending and he was the one that had been chosen to blame for the inevitable crash.

GlobAir was stuffed and Operation Final Countdown was fucked and they had to find someone else now to bail them out and fast.

Sacking..sacking?..Who? Where? What? Whisperings around the large bar in the Shoreditch Warehouse,

‘Sacking, did you hear? Who. Redundancy? Your turn next’

‘No’ ‘yes’ ‘No’ A dark murmurings from the 250 employees clustered in groups around them in the corners and the

Board standing in the spotlight, like marionettes silhouetted in front of the projector blank whiteness on the Wall. In the fragile organism made up of weak product and insecure people that was Infinity, the dotcom baby that had grown too quickly for the central organs to sustain, the anxiety had increased to unbearable levels. ‘Everything Right on track’ the palliative, another Powerpoint, the New Infinity

Plan, was now being projected up on the Screen. Nice looking charts, bar graphs like City Skyline, obviously going up and up, a couple at the end the same height, two

Towers the ones Sky had been going on about three years before, and the New Manager called Ralph, the

Troubleshooter, a Northern Manufacturing type who’d been jetted in as Benny and Santa had jetted out, to the

Bahamas to meet more Investors they said and Ralph was going on mechanically with a pot belly in a Brass Tacks accent, ‘that is our aim, its what the City and our investors want, steady growth stabilizing after our tremendous spree..’ But, beyond the numbers, the truth was the staff

Future had just gone on for too long. Faith in Infinity had retreated inside itself and as soon as the Money found out that would be it. End of.

‘…as you can see by this here the year on year growth is evident.’ ‘Yeah and growth in your fucking salaries more like’ grumbled Bradley to his mates not far from Tickle.

‘Don’t know their arses from their elbows.’ No, Toby had to go before they started on the Prizes, Employee of the

Month and all that motivational shit, bought in by the New

Manager fresh from BG Garr, the Hangover Drink makers, in order to get things straight, or at least to look like they were. ‘Cunt’ someone whispered as Tickle maneuvered to the exit through the mob, a gritted smile stuck on his sallow face. He felt condemned. He knew it was over. He felt it in his gut, a string had broken, SNAP.

SNAP… T404 XDU> another photo, the spider searching the database retrieved the file behind the fourth firewall of Hector Inc. the HMG supplier of the 2.3 million CCTV cameras in the capital,

554 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 according to Strikes coded instruction and then allocated it to the string being developed along ID TT007 as he’d called it, Tickle, as he sat in the Azores now attending to something much more important in his own private but global joke using a new radio frequency…3…4…5..2..9.. and numbers as that was the only means of communication now left that was vaguely secure. Got him, nice..

‘The whole thing is just nonsense on stilts’ said Mrs.

Rambledon after she and her husband, the former

Conservative MP Andrew Rambeldon, were released

'pending further investigations' following five hours of questioning at Barking police station…Toby screeched off from outside the warehouse bar into the Tonight Program on Radio 4 heading West fast as if he was in a get-away scene. He’d said he see Agamemnon one last time just to stop him hounding him and ringing him up all the time, worried he’d interfere in the reconciliation with Tina to which Tobys hope was hanging onto as much as Agman the other addict was clinging onto the idea that Tickle owed him his life…The Rambledons' solicitor, Ned Roston, said they had been questioned over accusations regarding indecent acts on a woman including rape in Plaistow in June. The

555 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 case continues… In our next item the technology sector comes under the spotlight. Roy Sponge is at the CIS electronic Show in LA, Hi Ray, and despite the spectacular share price falls in the States I understand there’s still plenty of excitement being generated by new ideas… Yes?

Crap. It was everywhere, this crap, News, Business, the

World, always the next big thing. Did he have to go back there, to Infinity, couldn’t he just continue driving away from all of it, the corruption, lies and the greed. But what about Tina? For so many years acting his part not wanting to rock the boat, the job or pretend one avoiding unemployment and the breaking of the illusion of security that would make her too frightened to have a Baby and endanger their Picture Postcard fiction not becoming life.

Fuck the postcard, he’d have to trust it will be OK whatever happened and Tina would have to trust it and him too. It was the only way, either both their bids for self sufficiency would then to them being apart, or they had to share their fear, by their love to live despite it. It was new for both of them and with trust then perhaps, in theory, it will turn out at least as it is meant to be. Truth. Not it, is. It is as it is.

He knew that now.

...the Co-creator of Shelia Delight, Simon Froth, the entertainment impresario said the concept had been based on the success of his character Suckme Yamohoto, prototyped in Tokyo in the Fall, "Our ultimate objective here is to let the markets know that our stable of virtual

Celebrities are available for work like any other individual in the world of entertainment," Two of the firm’s other creations, Beth Butt and Me Mouth, have already appeared in a campaign for Big Mac and Roddy Mckewan has just been signed up to HORSEPLAY erotica series, his online avatar called DIY Stallion coming out on Playstation and the broadband convergent Net. ‘The future is here again’ declared Simon, ‘it’s the ultimate talent management tool and makes the flesh and blood celebrities of today to a large extent redundant. The company is hoping...Simon says Blah Blah Fackin Blah…Tickle made himself change the channel. What a twat.

Who let the dogs out

(woof, woof, woof, woof)

I'm figurin' that's why they call me faithful

'Cause I'm the man of the land

When they see me they doah-ooooo (howl)

Who let the dogs out

(woof, woof, woof, woof)

The sixties villa in the Cul de Sac behind Bayswater didn’t answer. No light came from any of the windows and relieved, Toby began to reverse back out of the street. ‘You

Cunt’. It was the snarling face of Agman suddenly at the side of the car. He only had a pair of Boxers on, a piece of green snot coming down from one nostril, as if from a leakage caused by all the screaming he’d done down the phone. ‘Me old mucker’ Agman declared, sloppy nasal voice, kissing Toby on both cheeks, ‘Me old mate,’ as if reading out of a phrasebook for Friendship ‘come inside for a coffee’ but then came the pig eye aside ‘We’ll discuss the deal later, Alright’ What deal? No, Not that. Just say No,

Toby told himself again no dope.

The place was a wreck, as if there had been a burglary a moment before. ‘How’s the habit’, asked Toby in a businessman sort of way to assert he didn’t have one now.

‘Yeah, I’ve conquered the fucker, haven’t jacked scag for

Tickle a spliff ‘No thanks. Don’t mix with computers’. ‘Doing me own treatment with me old matey Dr Kindness, Harley

St Specialismo,’ Agaman droned on trying to sound convincing ‘giving me the script and this fucker here too’.

Agamemnon wretched open his shirt and nipped the skin on his fatless stomach, the outline of a little tube protruding.

‘That’s my babe the inbox feeding me internally 24/7’ he said, ‘Once a month go a bit crazy when you do your own detox’ and Toby saw Agman there in the darkness, a mad dervish spinning, screaming, throwing everything about searching for something not there any longer, smashing pictures, another spoilt boy raging against the world not getting what I want I want I want ….Mummy Mummy

Where are you?

‘Where’s the Folks?’ asked Tickle trying to avoid having to say no to Agmans scam. ‘Fucked off. Gone to live with big

Sis in the States, the great DotCon Attorney from on high in

San Jose, California, Jemison and fucking Yidshit’ growled

Agman with a snarl ‘ Left really early one morning, keys and two grand in cash’ said Agman suddenly was looking like a sad boy ‘We feel its best that we don’t talk for a

559 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 while. Your mother is not well. Blah de Blah de fucking Blah’ suddenly laughing Agamemnon put on his shades and got out his palm pilot. ‘PortAll.com Geddit, Portal Port All.

‘Yeah that’s it. Yachts online. Know these guys in Cypress, shifting boats around the Med, the scam is for moving about last thing, late booking and you know, Eggprezz

Kargo, as my esteemed colleague out there Razil likes to call it ’ Agamemnon winked, ‘and I said to him, look mate, one of my associates in Londinium happens to have invented the fucking World Wide Web, anyway that’s what I told him. So here we are then. Here you go me old mucker’ and he slammed down a little cup of Espresso on the table in front of Tickle, coffee splattering on a Red Letter On Her

Majesty’s Service warning Unpaid Tax.

‘Smithy, you know, him and Teri the Sunday Times mag girl, do photographic and Stelios a Greek guy I went to school with, said he’d put the yacht guys, the rich fuckers, our way, except I cant get hold of him for the last couple of months, Jet set heh? Cant you just see it, Nicosia, Istanbul,

New York London, the IPO Billions and Heh I read the pink paper too you know,’ he said going even more nasal, ‘I know my stuff and I’m on the straight and narrow again

Everything coming up roses that’ll show me fucking Mum and Dad…..’

Toby managed to get away two hours later only 3K down, payment for a supposed debt from a cracked windscreen apparently damaged by Tickles feet almost 10 years ago, on the way back from MLFs party it was and 3K seemed a lot more than it would be worth. But Toby needed to see

Tina now, free of the last toodoo on his list except her. ‘At least I’m free of the addiction’, thought Toby desperate to have sex with his mate, gunning the motor down Oxford

Street past No Entry signs ‘By the Grace God ... , that’s what the women in the meeting said, ‘Grace. What does it mean? It is as…’

A bolt of lightning. Again. Speed Cam. Fuck, the cameras.

Nevermind it had been a long long day. The Nightmare,

Tina or Tara, The Motorway, the Accident, The Fuckup, Karl,

Clamping, The Church, the Child, the Monk, and what was that about? A dream? No, it’s not true he knew now. Yes, it was true, yes, to be, not not to be. Hope? Life was a gift and Toby laughed as another bolt of lightning went off

SNAP

T404 XDU>

SNAP>

Vehicle Registration Centre>

Passport Office>

Criminal Records>

NHS records>

Council Tax>

Credit Rating>

Credit Card>

Loyalty Card>

Buying Preferences>

Browsing Preferences>

PC>

Hard disk>

Memory>

‘Lovelly Jumbly’ said Gordon in Stevenage to the shaven headed Programmer 3000 miles away on a mid Atlantic

Island, who was rapidly tapping the keyboard in front of the

Screen of multiple files ‘Now we’ll find out what aftershave he wears and how long it is before he dies’ he sniggered.

‘Go on, don’t be churlish go on, access his fucking hard drive and put all those nice little cutie pies in there quick’

Calling T…Calling T …Calling T… Note: active incoming calls divert. Your call is being forwarded …Please hold…We are transferring you… hunched up in the basement back at home Tickle felt as if his insides were being drawn out by the wait. It was almost 3. He’d tried everybody. It was embarrassing. I’ve lost my er… my..err.. wife.. He had spent all the previous evening ringing around trying to find her, ‘Sorry I know its late’. Finally he tracked her down to

Ellens new place in Cornwall. ‘She’s gone to bed..’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Look, leave it to the morning, she’d very tired, very sad. Just leave it’ Ellen had said. ‘OK’

But he couldn’t leave it. He couldn’t be stuck in no mans land. For Love or Money, but to be stuck in the middle with neither. Who was she with? Jealousy spread. Ellen had

563 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 followed a session player down there, who’d played once for her true love Popstar and she was totally infatuated again, to the point of even letting little Johnny stay most of the time with his dad and Toby sat on the bed rocking back and forth imagining Tina doing the same thing in the cottage on the Moor near Falmouth, feeling a cross between

Millennium Hamlet, Macbeth and a Pimp. He couldn’t stop himself and rung again. No reply. He left another message.

His tenth. ‘Look I’m really sorry. I’ve jacked the job in. It’s all going to be alright Believe me, for real this time. I’m really sorry..We need to talk I am…’ Beep Beep Beep.. The awnser machine had run out. Or was Tinas finger on the button, were they, Ellen and all her Rockabillies all there sniggering behind the phone a load of pissed musos laughing at the uptight geek back in town. White mist began to fill up the morning outside his Hackney window… and by a sleep to say to end the thousand shock that flesh is heir to…A roar began; undulating reverberations coming closer but never quite arriving.. is a consummation devoutly to be wished… a wave unfinishing just fading away then a little before it did there, another roaring above tailgate winking as it passed into a smudged presence behind the cloud.

You, you, you there, yeah you…the muted woman was mouthing gesticulations in the corner of the Laptop Screen on his bedroom desk, plastic features and a permanent smile; Sheila the C21st slave babe was totally irremovable, he’d tried everything. ‘Fucking Simon’. Delete, Remove program, Anti virus, Norton, Scandisk…but nothing would shift it. Shit, permanently stuck he’d have to totally reformat the machine, start again, which would mean loosing all his so called work backed up. Files of Infinity,

Projects in Progress, Contacts, Cabby stuff Versions 1-5, plans for 6 and the archives, the Virtual Nightclub,

Freespace 1,2,3 and even the third draft of Millennium

Hamlet would go, deleted, the whole lot; he must make a copy of it all, his hard disk otherwise he was vunerable to losing all his info and what then.…but the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from where no traveler returned, makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to those we know not of..

So what? And anyway Millennium Hamlet needed to be updated, it was past its sell by date by at least a year; 21st century Fraud more like now. Toby had been in the bunker basement all night writing furiously, about yesterday, the

Monk and the Change, as if to nail it down, the whatever it was, the glimmer of something that might have been Hope?

He wanted the new life he now sensed happening not to be a dream, so if he wrote it down hoping it wouldn’t evaporate or turn out to be just another role in another film and he wanted to be firm and steady in this, the New State when Tina returned, that is if she ever did? Oh God would she? Don’t Worry. All will be well the monk had said Don’t

Worry. All will be well he heard the new found honest voice, listening to it desperately.

But he was so very tired. And the pain in his head began to badly throb. There weren’t any scabs left, the Heinrich sores had dived under his skin, become internal, a constant dull ache sometimes acute at the top of his head and further downwards too towards that point at the top of the spine where, with too much sitting infront of the PC Screen the tension always collected, the vulnerable place between the two lines of neck tendon, stiff.

‘Hiya you’ve got mail sir’, the insincere haveaniceday smile.

Fucking Sheila, the laptop dancer, waking him after another shit bit of sleep. The Me.tv digital PA ten years later had

Santa and Barry having invested in Simons next shit hit.

The avatars real role he knew was collecting information about him, ‘the User’, that’s why she, it was designed to be irremovable. Inside the Machine, that’s where they wanted him, everyone, to be controlled, identified, delineated, categorized, collated into the ones and zeroes of the mysterious Binary code and being known, then told what to buy and through that wanting, what to do. Was it better than the bottle? he wondered and the solution for the addiction being the same?

Receiving 21 of 38 messages practically all spam. He used to get 300 mails a day but now he had diminished according to the currency of that World. Did they know it out there? had Sheila told them about his searching for jobs, the rehabilitation courses, the alternative lifestyle?

Was he now designated a loser on a worldwide scale?

Start to gain confidence. 7 days to change

A new way of life

A new road to success….

Dear Mr Tickle I am writing to you regarding an urgent matter. I have recently deposited 3.2 million dollars in a

Swiss bank account and I am seeking assistance in recovery for highly generosities in return….

WORRIED ABOUT HAIRLOSS….

WONDER PENIS ENLARGEMENT TREATMENT.

Tickle pulled his foreskin. It wasn’t that relevant anymore.

Now he was just another digit 007 in the millions spamming from some server in Latvia, working on the old proven formula that there will always be at least 2% uptake of anything from the mass of Losers out there, buying it, whatever, just happy for their existence to be registered at all.

Somebody loves you… the message header revealed itself and at this Toby grabbed:

An Invitation…… friend has invited you to join

The Creative Lovers network….come and find your

Valentine… It’s Free… Creativeloving.com

‘To the World you might be one person but to one person

Who could it be?

Tara sending him a coded message, replying to all those he’d imagined but had not sent her before. No, don’t be silly it was spam and as far as she was concerned he was a spent ham no longer worth it and Toby suddenly felt very alone again…

Oh God…What’s worse than unrequited love? No love at all.

Where is she?

Tara?

Would he ever have any intimacy with Tina again?

To Old Buddy from Foursome H. Anticlimax

Glad to meet you old buddy

Madeeline was coooking whhen a dooor belll rang. Shhe deecideed thatheer boy-friennd came and oppened thhe dooor withhout asking who wasthere. Terhe men in masks wree trehe. They captured girl. They took the Madeline and brutally unrdeessd her. Thhen thhey put heer on bed and f#cked her forcefu1ly. She had enough helos for all of

A tug on the foreskin, a nibble on the line, telling him it was the quickest way to get rid of this pain of feeling alone. No stick with it. It’s you, it is.

No, wanker, stop it and the thought suddenly occurred to

Toby that there were no friends in his Inbox. Just spam, no people he knew just Work and House, the Workhouse that’s where he’d been for the last seven years, it wasn’t surprising his social life was nil. Should he order a Penis

Enlargement Kit? just to get something through the post establishing some sort of connection, verify he was still alive. Shit, don’t be a wanker. Maybe that was the basis for

ME.TV and Gary Millers 21st century life in the dream of home shopping online. Just lonely people sending themselves presents all the time. Interest free Credit

Anytime. It would probably mean he’d now be on some

Universal Data Profile list in the category marked UK DICK.

Another mail from TheStreet.com making him queasy with

Fear.

CITY HEADLINES

Enron panic selling continues. Suspicion of hedging against own stock

Infinity shares hits 7 down 12%. Dot com Baby heading towards rock bottom..

Mudrock instigates poison pill defence against Freedom Inc. and Molane rebutting with denial… MORE…….and there are rumours at the moment that the Department of Trade and

Industry is looking at a number of high flyers in the hi tech arena allegations of sdhare manipulation and false accounting including Poo, Rebound.com and Infinity Int.

More news in the Bulletin …

Old Allies at War

….. The Mudrock poison pill defense gives…

The dotcom market was now collapsing the ballon well and truly burst and he hoped he wouldn’t get caught up in

Infinitys death throws now being charted on www.yourfuckedcompany.com, along with Webvan, Petz,

Shopesafe and Poo, each queuing up to join the 534 companies busted in the last 6 months.

Was his downfall part of a larger fate? What had happened to all the Money? What’s this about Enron and WorldTel,

Was everything going, fragile tents loosing hold in the chilly new 21st century wind?

…existing shareholders the right to double their holdings at half the current share price if anyone takes control of 15% of the company's shares, thus massively diluting Freedoms holding. Mudrock is too wily a fox to be caught out by what he considers a highly disloyal move by Molane. There is talk of Gary Millers Shop Online Corporation is joining forces with MUD to prevent Freedom takeover…

More mist. More fog. Staring out of the bedroom window, pictures separate from the Screen. In a crack high up in the

Sky, the lightest blue beyond the furthest cloud where the new sun was brightest, a vapour trail was becoming a dark pink.

Dawn.

A seagull, black winged, chasing a crow. Why? Something to do with summers end?

Dying, he felt like. He’d had no sleep. Again. In the bunker

Toby had been moving around his imaginary world, on

He knew he had to leave his old world to follow that he’d felt in the gust of wind through the opening door. But what about her? Where was she? You You you, yeah you there..

Oh Fuck off Sheila and her big boob smile. Oh God, I said fuck off and Toby slammed the laptop shut, thinking he saw the avatar looking slightly peeved as he picked the box up and threw it out of the window and, a second later, heard a smash then a silence followed by a dung tick dung tock, almost a bell, knelling the PCs knoll, the death throes of the hard drive ruined below. Oh Shit he’d gone and done it now…dung tick dung tock dung tick dung tock… no going back. Now what? Without a PC or the Data what the fuck was he going to do? The Internet fills in all the silences someone had said and the idea of being without it filled him with dread.

Without thinking he got onto his knees shut his eyes, clasping hands together. Oh God. Why have you forsaken…? Another Mel Gibson film he hadn’t been in.

What next? Christ even His Name taken over by the

Politicans and the Living Dead in Rapture, willing to be taken away at the End, willing for IT to come sooner even if it meant forcing the Apocalypse, the Millennium Bug which was meant to have happened over a year ago.. Oh

God………’like a wave, double minded and unstable… he without God will have nothing’…but as he prayed Toby felt the prison around him, trapped inside his box, the world reduced to a tiny cube of mirrors repeatedly playing fear and confusion, back and forth back and forth and over again, and back again in a loop the palliatives, the fame, drink, drugs, sex, work, anger, blame, and his knees increasingly hurting he felt it all draining away leaving him only low and dry a man now suspended, blocked in his own ending.

Was this the end of his own private reality TV?

Oh God Why?

Quick.

Be still, silent.

And his pleading melded with the roar behind the clouds, the sea beyond the reef and he was still there when it faded

‘Lovely Jubbly, that should do for Santa. But earlier you said it’d gone dead, his PC. ’ ‘Yup, but it’s all backed up here; if you loose the CD, and the hard disk stays intact.

Check his trash’ hissed Strike in the Concall, now somewhere in the Gulf. ‘You got my account number- the no 4 Zurich’ ‘Sure, thanks Mate’ said Gordon, feeling all powerful with the Top Geek on his side. ‘I’m not your mate, mate, and its business, that’s how it is, even if it’s not very nice’ Shrike hissed back. Tickle was alright, just totally out of his depth of course, poor sod’. Gordon sighed and rubbed his already red eyes, reptilian his skin now the same colour as the mist outside. ‘Sorry Strike Thanks. Job Done. I can tell them Tickles now in the Wonderland with the rest of the fucking Peados, Gary and the rest, and you got the Laos contact sheet onto his hard disk?’ ‘Yup, piece of piss’

Gordon giggled ‘You’ve filled his home PC up with under- age tit heh?’ ‘Gordon, you cunt, you don’t need to sound so chirpy about it’ and Gordon heard Shrike take a menacing big lug on his cigarette. ‘And I can always put your real name back in if you want? Gordon you should know by now

575 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 aliases don’t work. The identities are always held in the machine, the hits in between also, everything traceable now you know. Everything can be remembered now, we are all in it together now, one body, transparent, so you’d better behave. Remember, the hard disk retains the imprint of all information it has ever had, always, forever and ever will be…’ and Gordon felt suddenly very sick, the brief time he thought himself a ruler of the Universe shrinking to another little worry spot on his chin. ‘Ok Strike...how much Money do you want to eradicate it all, me naughty, from the memory, mine, theirs and yours?’

31.

we don't change our course

we will end where we are heading.

- Chinese saying www.quotedb.comv

Beep Beep.

…Dear Toby, I am on my way back with Ellen. Hope to have another go. Glad job gone. Going? Love you. Tina…

Beep Beep the text had woken Toby up like a fist followed by a kiss and then a great wave of something more akin to relief, a new sensation, anew life, it must be Hope? He hoped, and he was almost sure now. It felt odd still though.

Three weeks she’d been away and he couldn’t remember what had happened. His sick leave, as Den had called it, was over today and he had to go into the Office even though he knew it was over, there was another story happening, another life was about to begin, and, annoyingly

577 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 he couldn’t help but feel afraid. The window was now surprisingly bright, a clearing after the fog, the high sky criss crossed by a lattice of cloud lines, plane-made , the older ones fading flattening, the fresh ones gleaming like white rope, invisible sails ready to fly. A good day to get sacked, Toby told himself seeing a jet very high up like a comet burning in the sunlight, suddenly lighting up , a frail plume of white gold 300 people being hurled hopefully to some other part of the globe, a shining light in the distance, then suddenly gone. It must be a sign and Toby smiled, a new smile, very wide as if for the first time, in a long time.

Yeah it was good day to get sacked, he thought as he sat at lunchtime among the workers six hours later, picnicking under the sol y sombre sky in the middle of the City, in the graveyard by the Quakers Meeting House. He lay on a tomb smoking another cigarette and noticed for the first time that the big leaves of the Plane trees above the graves were already turning red. Rich and dark, like blood. How many Autumns had he missed?

He closed his eyes. Peace. Please, let the Fear fade he asked the light creating circles behind his lids. Then a dog

578 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 bark, a harsh black suddenly washing back to engulf him again, frightened his eyes opening to see a roar of a jet before him, low, slow and looking too big above the roofs to stay airborne and he had to have another cigarette. Where was he to go? Why didn’t he and Tina just go off and get on with the important stuff. Loving. Living. What was he waiting for, staying here in the Big Smoke?

Beep Beep a message from Janice. ‘Chimp wants you back in office pronto Not looking good’.

It felt clear now; for Tina walking by the sea about to leave and head back to the City and her Life. It was as if their stories were coming together again, as if she knew inside her the change of Toby by his call, a new gentleness felt and now coming over her as she walked by the waves, a healing watching their crests fold over in different places, as they joined, turning into a roll pushing themselves in sacrifice up onto the beach. Each wave another stoke of grief subsiding inside her as it slid back leaving the space for anothers coming and the sadness seemed to allow access to her larger, deeper love again. They’d been through so much and now she found herself laughing into

579 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 the froth being blown off the reach by the fresh gusts of the oncoming tide, resolving to go back again to the irresolution of their marriage but wide smiling, somehow confident, facing into the broad arc of Falmouth Bay.

DON’T TELL ME WHAT I DON’T WANT TO KNOW, the mantra hanging from the wooden ape shouted, as it sat hands to its ears, squat on the New Manager desk and emerging from behind the pink paper its alter ego, Mr.

Troubleshooter said ‘Yes, I like a bit of humour in the

Office, it lightens the mood don’t you think’ then grinning dead eyed, trying to seem cheerful. ‘We mustn’t take all this too seriously’ he added, carefully folding the paper and then sighed. ‘You probably know what I’m going to say.

It’s been on’t cards for sometime now’ he pronounced matter of factly and Tickle sagged knowing he had to sit through the ritual to get somesort of pay off at the end, but really wanting to ignore the fat man and talk to the ape.

‘Oh no not you too’ said Janice outside ten minutes later, the last of his Cabby crew smoking under the now cloudy sky threatening rain. ‘You’d better go and get your Black

Widow garb on’ he half joked but she soon hurried off home

580 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 holding in her tears ‘ Me Mums had another turn I better scarper before it turns into an attack. But..’ she said quietly, dewy eyed, ‘ Look, please come round later, have a cuppa tea and biccies and we can have a chat’. And Toby felt for her, now again having to find a new Boss again in order to feel secure. ‘C'est la Vie, Mate Join the Club' said

Bez, ‘Let me out of here, I’m a non- entity’ he laughed,

‘Speaking personally I just want to go back to Harpenden and breed Coi’. The Office door then suddenly slammed, as if the hot moist air of the Money inside was already defending itself against the gathering chill of the thunder prone day outside

And then something happened.

Beep Beep. A text on Tobys. Tina? No. Message from

Vishcon Alive. New Alert Click Here to Connect. There was the little globe going round and round on the WAP mobile

Screen and round and round again as he tried to log on, then, trawling upwards thumb on the wheel- button of the

Nokia all of a sudden the text: Plane Hit World Trade

Centre. Blimey, did you hear that? And as if on automatic navigation, all the Office workers went back into the office

581 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 under the darkening thunderclouds, to make more sales calls in Operation SOS as the Troubleshooter had dubbed it, and Toby too in order to pack away his desk, went in trying not to take on what the word redundancy meant.

Beep Beep.. Another text, 15 and half minutes later.. 2nd

Plane into 2nd Tower, Terrorism suspected, and from behind the glass wall of his corner office Toby saw the sales floor almost immediately jack up a gear increasing in its feverish, as if the final bit of Money had to be got in before the dotcom story reached its climax, and the World reached its End.

‘This is Johnny from Infinity’

‘Do you remember?

‘Do you know when he’d be back?’

‘Hi this is Nadir from Infinity’,

‘Yeah Regarding the contract, when’s he going to be back?’

‘Remember me, we talked in the summer?’

All the sales staff were really at it, pulses speeding people simultaneously checking their little video windows in the corner of the Screens becoming increasingly worried about

‘Surely you remember’

‘Yeah that’s right at Hall Place’

‘Yeah believe me there isn’t a better deal available’

‘Ok for you we’ll do it a 60% ..’

‘Lovely but we need the fax back by 5’

‘Blimey’

‘Fuckaduck’

‘Shit’.

Broadband pictures courtesy of MUD online, the building falling, people running in the sky, reality TV aping cartoons, but the staff not stopping selling ridiculously busy,

Operation Save Our Souls everyone busily denying the fact of the collapsing around them and before them there on the

Screen but chattering getting louder and louder people moving about in circles their little windows playing demolition derby next to their secret online video game.

The 2nd Tower Crash. 1, 2, and again 1,2. ‘It’s the end of the world’ Fat Bradley bellowed out laughing, ‘Anyone for a drink, before Hell arrives?’. It was half past five, clocking

Everyone walking quickly past the sculpture now washed clean of graffiti ,NO GODS NO MASTERS and FREEDOM is A faint below the blue and a lightening flash lit up the black sky and Jennifers smile flashed bright now in GAP WINTER pinned between the two white horns and everyone started running fast including Toby who, turning to look back at

Infinity for the last time, thought he saw the face of the

New Manager gorilla-like perched on the ledge, the

Troubleshooter glum but grinning from behind the tinted glass as if just about to jump.

‘It was like Princess Di again’. Ellen and Tina watching the

Tower just crumpled in on itself, millions of mirrors, as if it had given up wanting to get the inevitable over with as soon as ASAP and down it went again and they showed it again, and again, the little blue fly making a beeline like a robot bird into the Tower, silver shining in the blueness then Blam suddenly the 3D model of the Towers reduced, again, then again, down, and again the air thick with smoke, the events played and replayed, somehow hoping that the reality behind them would fade, as the masses

ANGER, HATE, the plated enamel NEWS smiles busily trying to find the right angle.

‘Poor people’ said Tina, ‘Arabs Cunts’ said Ellen stiffly, as

Tina began to sob again. I’d better be off, leave you two to make peace eh.. I mean… ’ said Ellen, then, bending closer she whispered into Tobys ear, ‘Welcome back to the real world again’. And at last he held her tightly, ‘Don’t worry

Redundancy not the end of the world’ she said, giving Toby a deep warm hug, her face shining pregnant with the second bottle of red. ‘Its good news isn’t it. At least you’re alive eh’ she added, ‘better than them poor sods’. And almost immediately as soon as she had gone Tina and Toby made love, without speaking, there on the kitchen floor, then in bed, and afterwards, at last, they held each other tightly, without anything between them happy now to be alive and safe, as the old world collapsed around them, together for the first time since the last time they done it since their last little death.

‘They say we might be next’ three hours later Tina suddenly bolting up in the middle of the night ‘We’re still on high alert’ and Toby kissed her on his head. ‘Don’t worry’ he said holding her to his chest until she went back to sleep.

Unable to himself, an hour later he went and sat smoking for a while in the garden of the wobbly house, naked under a big old coat. ‘You could now get your finger into the crack at the front’ Ellen had pointed out, the subsidence had been confirmed last week and he wondered what was going to happen to it and him and her, to them, was it collapsing too now with no work and everything about to change, everything under threat. And he smiled; they were alive and that was a gift in itself and he knew there was another place now, out there, calling him to come, ‘Go Well’, a voice telling him everything was going to be alright. ‘It is as it is’.

‘Welcome back to the real world’ had said Ellen before leaving, and Toby didn’t know that a few weeks later he would be standing on the cliff top lost to what she had meant.

---

32.

"Until you do what you believe in,

how do you know whether you believe in it or not?"

LeoTolstoy

Another roar undulating, reverberations coming closer but never quite arriving, a wave unfinishing just fading away then a little before it had completed, another, suddenly roaring above, then, like a memory or a dream almost grasped, the winking tailgate passes into a smudged presence behind the cloud. All the planes had been diverted from the centre of town since it had happened, a month ago, going on a long circle over the poorer boroughs away from Canary Wharf, the City and the Money.

In order to become myself I must cease to be what I always thought I wanted to be, and in order to find myself I must go out of myself, and in order to live I have to die, more Monk talk, trying to hold on to that moment with his and Toby rolled over hoping just to die for a hour, to sleep…aye their the rub, what dreams may come when we have shuffled off our mortal coil must give us pause…

A black bird whistling in the darkness. Another night without sleep. He still hadn’t ‘landed’, as Tina put it, since the redundancy, and he wondered if he ever would. For so long now he had been spinning in his own Virtual Reality and when it had happened, 9/11 and his old world disintegrating as if those Towers had been the lynch pins to the whole show and removed now, the horizon too collapsing and it felt he and everyone else were going to be flung out into God knows where, with even the Virtual

Reality becoming Virtual, Nothing was becoming Nothing.

Was that the equation now: Virtual plus Virtual equals =

???

God knows what…

Another roar, another plane, another oil fire burning a thousand litres a second, now fading over the river, until it could be heard as if from another place, the breaking waves of an ocean beyond the reef. Fear of flying was now total: the trust was dented, perhaps forever gone.

Toby saw a heron coming in from the Marshes being hounded by two crows. Why was that? He spent most of his time down on the Marshes now, reading trying to fathom in the quiet what it was he was, what could he hope for, what could he be. He seemed happy just to hear and see everything clearly at last, to follow the flight of birds, laugh at the flash of the kingfishers wing, find solace in the sound of a pigeon swoop, and listening to the sad seas in the autumn leaves, he felt as if he was back where he had wanted to be for so long, since before the first darkness had begun a child again. But he felt odd too, sensing at the same time it was all so fragile it could disappear in a twinkling of a eye, and then what?. …but the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from where no traveler returned, makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to those we know not of..

And no wonder Tina was so scared, he didn’t know what to do. He did feel lost, redundant away from the busyness and at times he felt almost abandoned. But he knew he had himself back, that Identity, Integrity, Soul, were there available to him now, there was some clarity, but he didn’t know what to do with them, and then couldn’t stop himself

He’d gone back to the church again. Sat in the same place, over and over again, tried to find the Monk and tried again and again to find that... Whatever it was and an answer what to do next, but it just wouldn’t come. Deep down there was an urging to go away to leave this life, to leave

Tina and to find out whatever it was somewhere else. The

Wilderness? Where the fuck was that? There wasn’t any left now, it had all been done now on Planet Earth. He had to go he knew, but the thought of going when Tina so wanted him to stay, was still so hurt and afraid; 'do consultancy, send your CV, be a bus driver whatever, just bring something in so we know what we are going to be able to eat' she had pleaded, despite the pay off fearing the return to the Angel on cold November selling the old clothes she no longer had and Dad not coming on Sunday again.

He couldn’t leave could he, he loved her, and if he followed the voice without any sense of where he was going when he came back maybe she’d be gone. What then? No centre.

Nothing. No Life. O God.

It was damp the dawning, the side of the extension drenched in the red creeper curling into itself, the bindweed leaf had turned yellow and the evergreen Eucalyptus, tree arms outstretched upward, had outbreaks of orange amber leaves now, like tears, fibrillating in the chill wind. For Toby, it seemed as if he was looking out of his back window for the first time. The bones of the trees were now being revealed, the lost flesh exposed in the hidden recesses within the bushes. A V-line of cormorants flying low over the gables, up from the River, a pair of seagulls drifting in from the storms, their delicate wings dissolving in and out of the white grey cloud behind them, all watched by a lone crow perched on the gable, beadily eying the decaying scene below.

And Toby felt afraid again, afraid of his own calling, fearful of that new voice, the journey it was demanding, bringing fear for his love of Tina, being responsible for leading her to the unknown, unsafe, and, in the end fear of the sense of being loved, fear of where that confidence came from and its demand for change in him, and, in the end, fearing the

Other which was, ultimately. the Fear of Himself. I AM

THAT I AM the man said.

Ahh Way HAY ON U no a Fa in Ca NNN… the alcoholic in the opposite garden was, despite the autumnal cold, staggering about without a shirt on, still drinking with his invisible mates through a third night and morning, no doubt voices inside him shouting at each other, starting a fight with himself banging wood on the corrugated iron shed. Ahh

Way HAY ON U no a Fa in Ca NNN… Toby winced; it made his brain hurt, the tinnitus throb in his head. Hienrichs sore had got worse since he’d found his new peace. It was red, and the felt it had borrowed now under his skull. Ahh Way

HAY…’Please shut up’ Toby shouted despairing. How far had he actually traveled? From the Crypt in Orange County to a wet garden in Hackney, from drink to a drunk Millennium

Hamlet eh? …to be or not to be? Did he have a choice but to be always with his addictive self? Doomed. Doubt.

Change? He had to.

…the Belief must be honest, even if mistaken but not necessarily reasonable, it’s the ancient justification for the use of force in self defence in Common Law… Today was

592 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 still on the Radio coming up from the Kitchen going on about Human Rights, War coming soon after on the agenda…‘Carpet bombing of Taliban position commenced two days ago, a million tons of TNT in 48 hours.’ And Toby thought of The Shepard standing there with his dumb son, looking up at the B52 a mile up, leaving a pink plume behind it at dawn. What did he think it was? ‘We’re going to hunt him down and smoke him out’ said the President of the United States in a speech to the Senate yesterday.

‘We’ll be discussing this morning if the medieval regimes in other countries in the region are in fact the Administrations real target…’

Revenge: America showing the world who’s Boss. It stank, and left a bitter taste in his mouth. A shiver of fear went up

Tobys spine. Revenge: picking on the weakest to make you feel strong. Was he next? The Fall Guy Infinity spinning off its top, shares sliding, the market collapse since he’d left, the stock going down and down and then down again, £7,

£5.8 £3, £1.50 75p a share, trading suspended. And was he going to be the one to blame?

The Fall Guy. It was not so much about losing the billions of quid invested, or the billions of quid promised to others, that was the fear of the execs and bankers, lawyers and the rest of the players who’d set up the dotcom game; it was about looking stupid and loosing face. ‘You have only your rep my boy’, KOK had always said. Now they’d be looking for someone to pin the whole fraud onto, someone to blame? The Fall Guy. Tickle secretly hoped Strike had planted that Logic bomb Virus in the Infinity server to destroy all the records, the evidence of what had occurred in the fraud. Please instigate Armageddon Option he’d joked in his last message. Oh Shit, he shouldn’t send mails like that anymore; the CIO and the spooks at Cheltenham will be probably be scanning mails for any terrorist vocab and he’d be on the suspect list automatically if he went on using words like that.

DON’T TELL ME WHAT I DON’T WANT TO KNOW the

Wooden Ape had said and Toby had to admit it, he was stuck like the monkey in his stuckness and didn’t want to hear what he had to do either. It was just the Tinnitus in his head the throbbing turning into a pounding and the increasing conviction that his squelched up eyes had been blown from too much Viagra and emails from the last 20

Fantasy, his tent of Screens had melted and he knew wherever, whatever, he’d still be left with the I, Me, Toby

Tickle and me and me and me me me me meme me me meme me me and pounding becoming pneumatic as the picture became all blurred the lamp on the ceiling revolving around and around swooping down in a sliding offwards deep down and again hearing but perhaps not, just a memory of, that deep groaning, and his feet came up and he was on the rough matt floor, sisal brown and hairy, the scrub desert, mesquite statues and a hammer on a pedalo banging into his tinnitus ridden head and he was on his knees holding his skull, blood in his palms asking him What for?..Again... God why have you forsaken me?

He was bleeding. Stigmatic? Was it something more serious than he thought? The sores, the scabs blooming again on his neck, the unresolved tension continually stopping him becoming who he is.

Blackout.

Toe bee… too beee….toby…toby…Tobys eyes opened; he was stretched out on the floor all aching. Telly. The TV was playing by his head. To be or not to be…If in doubt the TV.

‘Talk to the camera, that’s it. So what’s it like being an addict sniffing glue all day, don’t you want to give up?’ ’ It was Longleats DVD. He’d dropped around yesterday, 'I hope twill help Tickle get back to himself, restore his dignity, show him the need to love others' he’d told

Tina...... from the seer of a new age comes a virtual memorial sculpture, a pilgrimage through the Spirit of Our

Times the Age of Memory Erased, Time transmuted via the worlds first digital being, Longleat an avatar of an avatar of an…

‘Dunno, its what I do’ the white spotty face of the Scottish gluehead said from under her hood, crooked eyes bloodshot separate from a shallow grin and he, no it was a she, held up a collection of red plastic bags, blown up like balloons, full of adhesive gas strapped around her wrists. ‘Hey mate, gotta fag?’ she whined at the camera ‘Yeah sure’ and a soft black hand came from behind the TV Screen.

It was Longleat, Disney once then Warhol now the NDB,

New Digital Being, the man with a camera on his head, computer strapped to his heart, monitors registering its beat and his brainwaves. Longlife TV to be transcoded through especially scripted software to convert to music combined with eye captured images and streamed onto the

World wide web Broadcast Live worldwide, a virtual memory to be cloned to the NDB disciples via encrypted

DNA using new Stem cell research findings courtesy Dr

Karl Smythe of KurtWeil Labs… Was it all connected, the

Longlife system, did it all work yet? Were the pictures live or pre-recorded? Was it reality or an act? Or was the whole thing an illusion, a charade, a one man reality TV show broadcasting only in Longleats mind and in those who wanted to believe it. Did it matter? Wasn’t that enough?

The Belief is enough is’nt it. Faith. And Toby saw now, that’s what Longleat gave them, the lost, he gave them

Faith in him, the Future and then faith in themselves.

Believers are happy. Longleat had given them a sense of a new Way, restored a hope that they too could be part of instead of apart from, perpetually rejected they were now all part of Longlife TV, the channel through which the whole world can be seen, Longleat making those on the very margins of the Real feel alive again.

‘Here dear, have some food, Longleat encouraged the glue addict, on the DVD, ‘You know you’re beautiful’ and she smiled into the camera, suddenly a 9 year old again, a child. There were now hundreds, thousands Longleat was helping on the streets, portraits on the DVD flashing infront of Tobys eyes like a strobe, crack heads, addicts whores, down and outs, he was helping them all become themselves again, the desire to be, they all wanted to be part of his

Life, the Screen life that was now Life itself, the Life they were all sharing, some already had their own channel on

Longlife TV and soon, he prophesized, all would.

Tickle rolled over and turned off the PC; it went on for hours. MUD TV flicked back onto the Screen, and there, as it always was, the NEWS, all the time 365/24/7… Daisy

Cutters target Osama in Tora Bora, the most powerful non nuclear weapon in the US arsenal is to be used by the military to bust open the terrorists cave... Observers say

Iraq is now in the sightline of the administration in the allies

War against Terror….

It seemed along time ago now, pre War, pre Millennium,

20th century, 1998, almost 25 years Internet time, when on that sunny June day, Toby, Longleat and the crew had stood smoking in the Well, almost innocent, the seagulls whark whark wharking above them in the oblong of blue, waiting to present their grand Plan for Freespace to the

Board. It was still here, the Plan, Freespace, everyone becoming a TV and talking to each other, everyone a star in the new Life they shared, it was in Tobys drawer but stillborn, another miscarriage another life, not lived but imagined. All those Plans, Visions, Ideas of the Future, his one among many, making the World fit to the Dream, surf boards for sharks to ride on, now deep down back in the waters again.

‘The down market is always a time of great opportunity for us’ Molane CEO and President of Freedom Inc had recently announced in a Pink Paper ‘Yeah, we’ve just purchased another three interactive companies complementary and going cheap’, Miller had proclaimed, ‘not sure how they complement each other but I got a gut feeling they will’ he said laughing on CNN Bizline 2, and Mudrock had won the bidding for China Digital Network Mark 2. Here Santa was

Founder and CEO is moving onto new projects, we wish to..’, another game, ‘bricks and mortar this one mate’, another gamble, rumored to be something to do with

Genetic Profiling in the US. Bartone plc was busily getting out of all things dotcom before the News sought out the

Fools in the collapse, his PR machine was trumpeting his sons Dirk running Barspace Ltd, preselling trips to the Moon on BartoneAir, while the Big Man was frazzled preparing for the West Wilts country fair having to get a counselor in to help with unexplained weight loss of Elizabeth 1. Brutus had gone to the States inevitably, ‘where they know how to do business properly’, his Fanatics thing turning into a Sport

Bar chain, via MBO buyback and Eliza, of course, was conveniently tucked away from the gathering storm of

Dotcom recrimination, giving birth to triplets, ‘Lets see who’s the real Superwoman now heh?’. Helen and Keith apparently had set up another Santa Fe health Spa and

Keith had one day found himself smiling without having to try, while Simon was in New York trying to push an OJ

Simpson multiplatform Special on the Art of the Lie, fat bro

Chris had sneaked back to Disney, President of the East of

England Division and down in Blackheath Sauls new wife,

Jeanine from his Primary school days, had persuaded him

600 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 to get out of Lapdancing and into helping get ex Yardies reemployed in Peckham and, without a trace, Strike had totally disappeared someone said near Amman.

Toby lying on his sisal carpet head throbbing, watching a bluebottle buzz maddening around the ceiling light, suddenly realized that almost everyone Infinity and Cabby had now bailed out of the Dotcom Wave except Longleat, who was actually continuing to live the digital dream, he was the only one who had told the Truth, done what he said he would, had maintained the Vision, his belief the Freedom of the New Faith, the Electronic Prophet sitting there late into every night editing the almost continual reel of his digitized life, his Second Life. In fact Longleat was the Real hero of this Virtual story, perhaps because having sacrificed himself entirely to his Vision, the New Medium he had chosen to be in, he had chosen to be, entirely, true to himself, his Virtual Reality so pure that he was in fact the

Truth, there was no gap in his belief.

‘the thing is Dave, that’s not the way the world really works anymore,’ The President was on the TV News explaining patiently to one of the ordinary People, ‘Believe me, we’re

601 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you’re studying that reality- judiciously as you will- we’ll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that’s how things will sort out. The thing is Dave, we’re historys actors.. and you, all of you will be left to just study what we do..’

Toby switched off the Gimp who was supposedly running the world and rolled over. He was very tired again. He needed something to hang onto, a raft in an unknown sea, now without work, carrot or even a picture postcard..

Millennium Hamlet perhaps. Rewrite it from scratch? A clean sheet. Whatever he needed to break out, become something new. Maybe he should confess all, write about it then become the lead character in the made for TV Drama,

C21st Long Firm Fraud.

He sensed he had and everything else had changed, but his life was still the same. It was as if he was rattling around an old stage set when the play had finished. Shall he go back 20 years, start again, abandon himself entirely to the new voice and see where it led. But what about Tina, should he leave her the last lynch pin holding up the old

602 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 picture of his Life? To leave or not to leave? To be or not to be? Oh God. He needed to go away somewhere first, to think, to the sea, make up his mind, edit the script or try a completely new draft, do something dramatic, go somewhere wild, a place to find another Reality, the

Reality, and live in it, the is not the it, no longer in a rehearsal, the Virtual, a perpetual performance of Hamlet going around and around again, he had to find what was his

Life.

Life. What had happened to it? Toby asked again. Seven years of busyness, nearly five decades of World Wide Web time. Where had his life gone to in-between? Up in lies.

Mostly fraud. A Marionette in anothers game. Not quite living. Life Lite. No truth no feeling, only Lust and Anger, palliatives to prevent the pain, the double sided self centeredness squeezing the real in between. Where had his life gone to?

He didn’t know anymore, all his answers had run out.

Seven years trying his damnest, searching for his redemption; drink, drugs, women, work, baby, money, it seemed to him that he had in fact run out of himself. He

What?

What was the child asking of him?

To be or not to be?

Yes or No?

But he didn’t know how to answer and he knew he had to now. He had to either answer or ask for help or..

He had to change or die.

The rest is silence.

Toby? To be? Toe Bee?

Where are you now?

WESTERN MAIL FEB 3rd 2002

Does this man sound familiar? By David Sheepsted

The identity of a man found wandering on a beach who will not talk but expertly recites Shakespeare for hours in several different languages is still baffling police. The six-foot tall man, very thin with a long beard is believed to be in his 30s or 40s, has been dubbed the 'Hamlet Man' since being found on a beach near Port Issac, North Cornwall, five weeks ago.

Suffering from hypothermia and a severely burnt face making him almost unrecognisable the man is now in a psychiatric unit at Truro Hospital. He will not enter into conversation but, when left a pen and paper, he drew a Danish flag and the word Bodkin scrawled beneath. Detectives are focusing on the Bodmin Moor region for clues and consulting with Danish counterparts.

When staff took him to hospital chapel, he went to the pulpit and expertly recited soliloquies from Shakespeare for two hours, however, despite his picture being posted on the website of the National Missing Persons Helpline, nobody has identified him yet, though people have come forward to say that they believe they have seen him on TV and some claiming anonymously to have seen him in porn films.

"We have had a lot of calls from members of the public telling us they have seen him performing in various parts of Europe," said Vish Renkiah, manager of the psychiatric unit. "When he performs, all his anxiety disappears. Away from the stage, he starts to breathe very quickly and nervously shies away from people."

The plight of the man has echoes in the story of David Helfgott, the Australian pianist, who overcame a nervous breakdown to return to performing. His experience formed the basis of the 1996 film Shine starring Geoffrey Rush.

Anyone who recognizes the "Hamlet" is asked to contact the National Missing Persons Helpline on 01287 692 450

End Piece

The funny thing about insane people is that it is a kind of

the opposite of being a celebrity. Nobody envies you…’

Robert Pirsig… Author, Zen and the Art of Motorcycling

FIVE YEARS LATER

Spring 2007

The Sunday Times A Life in the Day of.. 15th March

2007

This week: Tina Well

Counsellor and Founder of AWOL, the charity for those

suffering for amnesia related brain disorders. Tina, 39,

lives with her partner Toby Tickle and their eighteen month

daughter Roshun in Stoke Newington, London. Tickle, the

former actor and dot com pioneer, suffers from a rare

disease, ASP, a combination of amnesia, schizophrenia and

psychosis. Their life together was the subject of Living in No

Mans Land, a reality TV series recently broadcast on MUD 1.

My day starts when the others day start, either Roshun or

Tickle, calling me around six. I treat them as a pair really,

and when Tickles medication is being effective, the system

works fine. Roshun is breast-fed and I take her up into

Tickles garret for tea. It’s a totally glass room because his

condition demands constant light. Tickle makes bunting out

of balloons and milk bottle tops to stop the birds flying into

the mirrored glass; he is an honorary vice president of FLAP

but he doesn’t know that. Roshun and him feed the birds

and play about with bricks on the floor while I tidy up a bit.

We all have oats and fruit for breakfast and I give Tickle his first lot of medication.

Generally he is very happy nowadays. The total lack of memory can be frustrating, but he remembers me and he remembers that we are married. He can only live moment to moment because his hippocampus, the area of the brain where time lays down memory, has been completely destroyed. It’s the reason I think, that he is always genuinely pleased and surprised to see me, and generally glad to be alive, at all, all the time.

My book is based on the diary he kept when he was trying to recover his mental functions after his fall. A typical entry reads: 4.23. Awake. Fully alive, now. 5.34. Eyes flicker open. No more Death, alive. NOW. 6.43 Fully fully wake.

All senses working. 7.18 Eye Open. All open. NOW, Here.

Life. Lovely. Brilliant. It is infectious the excitement he has and Roshun loves being with him; at the moment they are counting all the new buds on the plane trees outside, making a dot on the wall for each one seen, 360 degrees.

But he tires her sometimes out he’s so excited and me too.

Generally though we get along fine and as a family the

At 9am one of the nurses from the Unit comes in to look after Tickle. He always greets her as if she is the first person he’s ever seen and always assumes that she must be very important, the Queen, the Prime Minister or Pope.

The nurses make sure his medication is OK. He has 22 different tablets throughout the day in order to keep him stable, and they conduct an ongoing series of neuron psychological tests set by Tickles consultant, Professor Karl

Smythe. He’s very supportive and now a good friend, having been there since the beginning and sometimes he stays over to observe. At 10 our child minder comes in,

Elena, a lovely Polish woman who lives next door and has known us for a long time. I go then into the cupboard of an office by the kitchen to make calls and deal with correspondence for AWOL.

I have no staff, except family of ASP sufferers who help on campaigns, so my work covers alot of areas. Membership of

AWOL is growing exponentially, as our Bookeeper Ernie calls it, and more and more people are coming forward with a whole range unexplained mental and emotional disorders

609 All rights reserved Titus Forbes Adam 2007 beyond ASP, where memory loss and other symptoms create indecision and a childlike dependence which prevent sufferers leading normal lives. I spend a lot of time arguing with medical professionals who see ASP as just another form of yuppie flu for skivers. But they also took a long time recognize ME, and others compare the condition to the

Gulf War syndrome, with the trauma being normal 21st century life.

Professor Karl is working on developing an alternative to the hippocampus, using Stem Cells and complicated software with his company KurtWeil Labs based in Silicon

Valley and also here at the UCL. The work is focused on

Tobys pineal gland, where melatonin’s made and apparently they have developed a new algorithm, simulated the hormonal process, which is all a bit beyond me but I know its bought in a lot of new investment from the States.

I go into town two or three times a week for lunch and PR events. I don’t like being away from Tickle and Roshun too long. AWOL has had a lot of support from Media organizations, as many in them are affected. Lord Bartone is our President and Simon Froth is the leading light in the

Land, which has helped raise the profile of the disease to international level and the spin off quiz series he has devised, Memory Lane for MUD worldwide, will benefit

AWOL enormously as it’s interactive with potential for a lot of voting revenue Simon says. Ironically, part of the condition of ASP sufferers is that they are allergic to any form of tele visual input, no screens PC or TV, so Tickle has no idea that he is a star in the US where the show has a cult following on the Freedom Cable Network, FNC.

In fact, since the illness Toby performs all the time, bursting into spontaneous monologues and routines. He will suddenly recite old parts, Hamlets his fav, ‘to be or not to be, or he does acts that he’s devised like Double minded and Unstable, a really funny story about a clown who goes mad not being able to decide what to do. Confabulation is the neurological term for it but my Mum, though she’s not religious, calls it speaking in tongues. Tickle is wonderfully entertaining but unfortunately can never remember what he’s said or perform to order, so we can’t make any money out of it. Waiting for the Wave he calls it, the feeling before the words come. It’s made No Mans Land a hit though.

Things were pretty tough for us at the beginning, Tobys illness, then the Infinity Fraud trial which seemed to go on for an age, the loss of the house and everything after.

Being blamed for the collapse of Infinity was totally unfair, they’d kept his name on the old documents and it turned out they’d falsified his ID for a whole load more, hacking into his hard disk to put incriminating evidence there. When it hit the headlines he was in Cornwall finishing his old screenplay Twenty First Century Fraud and it was such a shock, the porn claim especially, silly and proven to be so but I think that’s what pushed him over the edge and the

Fall. Stress, it’s a killer, although no one, even now, doesn’t really know what it is and the effects it has on the whole person. It was lucky he was still alive when they found him lying on the beach, he may have forgotten to get up before the tide came in.

Tickles disease had been in him for years Karl says, the herpes simplex 1 virus instead of becoming a cold sore attacking his brain through the spinal column causing encephalitis or inflammation of the brain. After the Fall he was given 20% chance of survival, slept for three months

In the afternoon from 3-5 I do my regular counseling clients, in a room off Old Compton Street. There are now hundreds of enquiries from people who think they have

ASP, many work in advertising but they are usually just suffering from neurotic rather than neurological problems. I get much more out of working with my Refugee clients, who having suffered genuine trauma, although Offshoot is a bit chaotic and needs a lot more support.

But it’s hard work at AWOL especially by oneself. Toby fought so hard to recover, to find his memory again but the day came when I found him sobbing totally distraught and all he could say was Forgive me. The memory of his courage and the hope of him getting better keeps me going. He seems to accept it now, Just for the Day he always says.

After his moods were stabilised and Id been through a bit of a wobble when I went out with someone else, moving to

California and tried to build a separate life, I realized that I couldn’t leave Tickle. We married and then had Roshun, which was abit of a miracle after trying so hard for year almost having given up on having one but everything now feels it’s worked out OK.

I try and get back by seven, let Silkie the cat out and read a good night story to Roshun. I prepare a light supper, soup and homemade bread and a special diet brown rice and

Omega 3 Flax oil for Tickle because of his condition. Then I go to the Tower as we call it, it’s good for looking at stars.

He is always so pleased to see me. I love you I love, I love you with all my heart he says as though he hasn’t seen me for a lifetime, which in a way he hasn’t. For me it’s been a process of accepting who he is now, his limitations and accepting that this is what our life is, and will be, forever.

I had always wanted just a regular life really, normal, but it may be odd but I realize now that there is something precious in the way Toby sees me, new all the time, some wives would die for that. Although people say he is not

Toby anymore, his identity has gone, he’s been de-souled they say, it feels like he is more of who he is at essence,

In the evening we sit in his room and hold hands look at the stars and watch old films again, the same ones over and over again, odd foreign films like Stalker and more recently Downfall, he really likes that for some reason, although I usually doze off well before the end.

We go to bed about 10. We don’t sleep in the same room because he is always up and down through the night. I sometimes work on my book about about our life together and how it’s changed; Memory and Oblivion, was the working title of my book, Mnemosyne and Lethe Professor

Karl calls it, but now its called I AM THAT I AM, I AM WHO? and it’s coming out next week. Its what Toby always says, I am that I am staring out of the window, I’m not sure who to. Its from the Bible, Moses asking God what his Name was, Karl says and the correct translation he says is I WILL

BE WHO I WILL BE from the Hebrew Ehyeh asher ehyeh not the Greek, but its all Double Dutch to me. The book is for a general audience, people who’ve experienced Loss and

Change, as well as the therapeutic community. Sometimes

I read before sleeping, usually half a page of Trauma and

Recovery, my favourite before drifting off and its then I often hear Tickle singing in his Frank Sinatra sort of way, I love you I love you I love you with all my heart softly, through the wall, almost like a dream.

------

Tina Walls book I AM WHO AM I AM WHO? is published by

MUD PRESS next week. www.AWOL.org.uk give advice to other ASP sufferers and families and there is a FREEPHONE Number 0870454587.

Tina will be online at ww.sundaytimes.com/health/forum between 4-6pm today.

----

Your pain is the concrete way in which you participate in

the pain of humanity…Paradoxically, therefore, healing

means moving from your pain to the pain

The Inner Voice of Love. Henri. N. J. Nouwen

617