A Genuine Intrigue.
By James Roy.
- For Sarah -
From the void there’s a screaming sound scratching at the edge of a consciousness. It takes time but you realise it’s your consciousness, it’s screaming, so loud, what’s wrong? No, you’re conscious ‘of’ screaming. It’s you that can hear it, the repetitive bottomless screaming. There’s pressure on your back, you have a back, and arms and legs and eyes and you’ve been asleep. It’s the alarm clock, Jesus, and you dared to hope something was different. You roll over, smack the off button sit up pinch your eyes with both hands and wonder if one day you really will be screaming. You throw your legs over the edge of the bed as the world that had disappeared for six to eight hours floods back in; signal one, lights and sirens. Literally, there is siren’s in the rainy, chopstick neon street three floors down, you wish you were lashed to a mast and blind folded so the screaming wouldn’t drag you kicking into the rain, back on the job. You smile, you love the job! He loved the job too but where is he now?
You reach down grab your pants with the broad leather belt still threaded from last night. Slide a foot into each leg then stand up, quite proud of yourself because you’ve seen so many people stand up first and look like idiots bouncing around trying to get their feet through pants that won’t stay still. You are so smart. As you’re buckling the heavy belt it feels warm and snug against your hips and you get just a little tougher than you were before. You pull on the agency’s black T, head out the door and with boots in hand run down the three flights of stairs and onto Chop Street.
It’s cold on the wet road and there’s trash on the ground but it’s your game to dodge it. You yell “Hey” to Mrs Tao. She returns a big yellow grin, people that smile with their mouths and not their eyes give you the creeps. So for a laugh, while she turns around to weigh a big baby seal for a fat man with a hat, you dare to steal one of her apples then bristle your pace down the lane toward the office. “Hey lady” you hear from behind you, “You might regret that”. You shrug and dodge the tossed fish head screaming towards your face. “Thank you, I’ll pay ya tomorrow” you yell back, waving and taking a huge bite out of your ‘Tao apple’. It tastes good, but not for want of trying can you remember the last time you had an apple quite like this one.
You get to the office and grin with self satisfaction, there’s a gushing torrent of water between you and inevitability. You pull up your cargo legs and wade across, water rushing half way up your calves. Striding through the big wide open door you pass all the numpty’s taking off their wet shoes. They thought they could make the jump. “Nice one Rai” says Benny, looking at the boots in your hand and wringing out a sock. “How’d you know about the ditch?” “Saw the squaddies digging uproad last night, figured they’d make Chop street by morning”. You keep walking and notice the new guy making coffee, dry boots. Did he make the jump? He’s been around for a few months and you and he have been all eyes and gestures but not much talk. He keeps trying but you’ve always made sure he doesn’t get close. Last thing you need is a damn newb getting underfoot. You keep watching him as you walk past, has he seen you yet?
You flop down on the briefing bench, apple in your mouth freeing your hands to lace up your dry boots. Newguy walks over and puts one of two coffee mugs down next to you. “Hey mewguy” you reluctantly mumble through the apple. He nods with his chin, his mouth barely moves but his eyes smile. You stand up and there’s about a foot between you and him. He smells good, like a man, like earth, but clean and warm. You look him in the eye and when he’s about to say something you jam the apple in his mouth and walk away. You can’t put your finger on it but today you feel like you know him. Something is different. This New guy, you barely know at all but today you feel as if you do. And he knows you. You shake it off, “pull it together Rai” you say to yourself.
The new guy takes your seat on the bench and seems to disappear into eating that apple, as if there’s nothing else that matters. One job, eat thou apple. In three bites he’s nearly done. But he doesn’t stop, by the time you’ve a grabbed a pen and sat next to him he’s eaten the lot, core and all. He has a look on his face like he’s become one with something. Before you realise you don’t have it he passes over your notepad and the boss storms in. Benny and the rest of the team have assembled behind you and the room quietens down.
The boss is sloshing water from his feet and fumbles his way up to the lectern. “Right, shut up you lot, oh, you are, right, good then. Same as yesterday ok, and the day before, except for one thing” He flicks a button on the console and an image of ‘Markib’, masked as usual, resolves on screen. No one has seen his face but you have your ideas. He’s eluded you so many times before. Always seeming to second guess your every move and so easily outsmarting the Agency. The boss might have wet feet but he knows his tech. The lights come down simultaneously and a readout scrolls up the screen indicating last-knowns, AKA’s, strike-stats, causality shifts and cultural instabilities. “He’s still out there people, still working alone as far as we can tell and if the probability people know their shit he’s going to battle again soon. We don’t know where but here are three likely’s”.
A map superimposes itself over the image of Markib on the screen and three red circles appear at different locales around Neoredfern. “If he gets to one of these three battle zones, engages with another B-boy crew and wins like he always does. He’ll finally upset the delicate balance of power in Neoredfern. If that happens the dance battle fabric of space time will collapse and we’ll all be sucked into another season of ‘So you think you can dance.’ We barely got out alive last time people”. “Rai” he yells, looking at you. “You gonna partner-up today?”
Your mouth opens automatically to say no as it does every day. The boss has been asking for three months. Every day since ‘he’s’ been gone and every day you have the same answer, but today something’s different. The taste of Mrs Tao’s apple still lingers. ‘He’, “Fuck! His name is Agoytoh, say his damn name Rai” you chide yourself. Agz’s is gone, he left you, get on with it. You’re about to answer the boss like you do every day when he cuts you off and blurts out “You wanna work with Newguy?”
If you answer like you always do, then say “No boss, I’m staying solo” and go to index 2.
If you go with your gut that something’s different then say “Yeah boss, I’ll work with Newguy” and go to index 3.
**Index 2
What the hell is different about today, you wonder simultaneously trying to push the thoughts away. You walk out the front door through the ditch and with wet boots and follow the lane back down past Mrs Tao’s stall. You’re deep in thought and she cracks you in the face with a fish head. You fall backward into a pile of baby seals, break your leg and have to go to hospital. THE END.
**Index 3
Benny puts his hand reassuringly on your shoulder and says quietly, “Good choice Rai”. You give him a nod. “So, Newguy! Gotta name?” You ask, as you both get up from the briefing bench. Before he has a chance to answer, you indicate the other end of the bench, “Give me a hand with this”. He shakes the watch on his wrist, picks up the bench and walks backward toward the street, predicting you, again. You both carry the bench through and lever it over the ditch. It spans the moat perfectly, you leap up, he follows and you both cross, dry boots and all.
What the hell is different about today, you wonder. You walk out the front door and follow the lane down past Mrs Tao’s stall, you’re deep in thought and Newguy pulls you back suddenly. A fish head flies past your face and smacks a small rangha child in the back of the head. The kids ok so you yell “That’s twice Mrs Tao, when you gonna learn, we’re better than freakin Ninja’s at the Agency!” You turn and nod thanks to Newguy.
As you set off down Chop Street he says, “Vincent.”
“What?” You reply.
“Vincent, or Vinnie. You asked if I had a name. It’s Vincent.”
“Yeah, right. Like the painter?” you say, looking at him. He looks you in the eye and says “No, like Lingiari, from the song, From Little Things, Big Things Grow”. You get it; he’s talking about the lands activist from ‘75. “How’d you know I’d know what the hell you’re talking about el vague-o?” You joke. He laughs, shakes his watch up his wrist, then reaches out with the back of his finger and touches the pendant at your chest. Agz gave it to you before he disappeared three months ago. “It’s aboriginal right?” Vincent asks “I took a wild guess and figured you’d know about Whitlam and Lingiari and his people getting their land back.
“Lucky guess” you say quietly, thumbing the pendant. Agz had said that he would never just sit in patience like Lingiari did back in the day, he’d get it done himself and soon. You thought he meant lobby harder with the Network but now you’re not so sure.
You and “Vinnie” have spent the last few hours canvassing the locals around Udon square asking questions about Markib, no one knows anything, naturally. The great Network reality takeover eighty years ago saw to the fear that shuts people up. When currency lost it’s pull and it all became about pop-creds, the Network dissolved the governments and took total control. Jooz’d clothes, big make-up and freakin dances moves. Pop stood for popular of course but it also meant to pop, snap, freak, skank, tap, crump - dance moves. The more you had and the better you were the more pop-creds the network flung your way. If you could skank-it till your arse fell off, or pop till your polaroid picture developed then you might just make it on screen. That’s what the Network wanted, good screen time and they didn’t care who it hurt in the process.
People did get hurt. B-boys went from fringe dwelling troglodytes to big time power brokers. They already had all the moves so they monopolised and the Network loved them for it. They got rich and everyone else got poor, fat and hooked on screens. The B-boys weren’t all bad though. It didn’t take long until the pain and misery amongst non dancers, upstarts and amateurs moved the B-boy crews to a flimsy unity that brought moves, and therefore creds, to the masses. Now everyone danced and there was a relatively even distribution of wealth. The Network hated it and the reality shows started dropping off bringing people back outside.
Communities, coms as they’re known, were rebuilt and kids started playing in the street again. Health got better, people got happier. The B-boy crews ruled themselves with regular dance battles in specified zones, the power ebbed and flowed with the winners of each battle and the subsequent flow of pop-creds. The rule of economic averages meant that no one crew could hold onto power for long as individual dancers brought new and better moves to the battle zones. The crews imposed a sort of self rule and created the Agency to moderate the talent and keep out actual violence. Agents started off as B-boys, good ones and got appointed when they proved they cared more about the coms and less about creds or the next big move.
It was in the crews’ best interests to train more and more dancers so they could bring the best to each battle and take home the winnings for their district. Then, three months ago Markib showed up with his damn mask. He was good, real good. He was pulling moves no one had ever seen before. He never burned or fatigued, and no one could beat him. He rocked up at battles unannounced, blitzed the crews and took everyone’s pop-creds, as well as the ones dished out by the Network. The Network loved him. They’d started promo’s for a new season of SYTYCD, headlining him of course. That shit is like a drug it’ll suck the life out Neoredfern again. All that will matter is the screen and whatever the Network wants us to see on it. Whatever they want us to think we’ll think it. The B-boys have already started losing their pull with the Network. It’ll be Network hell, all over again.
Agz was a good B-boy and a great agent. He loved the coms and was the biggest agitator for change. Change that would see the network scrapped and B-boy rule become total and self governing. Did he push too hard and get axed? You’re worried about him but somehow know he’s not gone, you can feel... something. Whatever it is he can’t help you sort it out this time. You’re on your own, or are you? You look at Vincent fussing with the watch on his wrist.
If you decide to keep your thoughts to yourself and not trust Vincent go to index 4.
If you decide to tell Vincent your thoughts about Agz and Markib go to index 5.
**Index 4.
The radio crackles in your ear. It’s the boss broadcasting that zones one and two have been compromised by Pop-lockers. These are violent crews of adolescents that run interference during battles, taking creds they didn’t earn. Some say they’re broken, burnt out cheerleaders gone rogue. They’re the dirty underworld of the coms. Markib won’t show up there, he’s never ‘brought it’ with pop-lockers around. It’s not his MO. This means that you and Vincent and the last remaining battlezone are the only hope left for Neoredfern. The boss has said that there’s a battle brewing today and if Markib show’s up he’ll strip the balance of power from the B-boys and hand it squarely back to the Network. Another season of SYTYCD will be inevitable and the very fabric of the world as you and all those you love know it, will be torn apart.You and Vincent run down Chop St through the smells and sounds of Udon square heading for the battle zone you were assigned to.
As you’re sprinting through the soaked street, dodging dwarfs being hurled into holding pens by hipsters on fixies, thoughts of Agz fill your mind and your pace slows. Vinnie grabs your arm startling you from your distraction. You chide yourself and try to stay focussed. Vincent is on mission and you feel his energy flowing, your pace lightens and your lungs fill air and your heart fills with renewed purpose. You keep pace easily enough now and arrive at the battle zone to witness an ever swelling throng of onlookers. Though, they’re more than that, they are com citizens and each one of them has everything to lose if the masked face of the Network’s puppet show’s up today. Two of the biggest B-boy crews in Neoredfern are facing off, getting ready to step up! You tell Vincent to go left and keep his eyes peeled for Markib, you go right and say you’ll meet him on the other side of the crowded b-zone.
You make your way around and through the thickest part of the crowd pushing to the inner edge to get a better view of the chaffing crews. Without realizing it you’ve defaulted to your agency training and placed yourself right between them both. Look left you can see the grimacing faces of one crew, look right and it’s the posturing faces of the other. As you're panning past the centre of the zone a figure abruptly fills your view. He has a blue bandana on his forehead, his grey hoody is pulled up and he’s wearing a mask! You reach out to grab him, attempting a grapple move but he’s moved out of your reach before you’ve even thought about arresting him. How does he move so fast? It’s not human. He just seems to blur from one place to the next without effort.
“Sup, Rai! You back for another one a those block rockin beats?” You’ve never been this close before and it’s the first time he has used your name. He starts walking slowly backward into the b-zone right between the crews. He’s looking you right in the eyes and laughing like a crooked Network junky.
This is not good, he’s out in the middle now, the crews have seen him and they know the game. You can’t arrest him even if you wanted to. With this many B-boys and so much pride at stake the place could erupt into a bloodbath. Battles run the world, dance is life. It’s been that way as long as anyone can remember. Dance keeps out the violence, keeps out the knifes and the guns and the zumbas! The crews and the coms made a choice, they chose peace. They saw their own instincts their own reflexive reactions and rose above them, they fought the fight response and took flight in dance. It’s such a delicate balance, it would be so easy to slip back into the fight response but the coms and the B-boys have worked hard. They’ve dedicated themselves to a better way and haven’t had a murder since the day Michael Flatley was assassinated by drunken Morrissey dancers.
“We have to beat him at his own game Kimosabe”.
“Vincent!” You throw your arms around his neck, you can’t believe how happy you are to see him. “You’re supposed to be around the other side.” You yell over the crowd.
“I knew something was up, so I came looking”. You point over his shoulder at Markib posturing and taunting the crews daring them to battle him, pushing up the pop-cred stakes. “I know” he says without turning or looking.
“How do you suppose we beat him” you ask.
“Pop-lockers!”
If you think the newb has lost his shit, call in backup and hope you and the agency can make an arrest before it’s too late... go to index 7.
If Vincent’s idea might just work go to index 8 and maybe save the universe.
**Index 5.
“Hey Vinny, lets get some chow man, I’m hungry”.
“Sure thing Kimosabe” he chimes back.
“You’d better believe it Tonto. I ‘am’ the lone ranger and you are definitely the token indian. Kimosabe my arse!”
“I guess that’s why it was me that saved ‘your arse’ from that fish head this morning.”
“What evs. You like baby seal?”
“Sure.”
You both take a seat at the bar of a street cart and order up. Food only comes one way in Udon square, stewed. Slow cooked for three days and delicious.
While you’re waiting for two serves of chilli seal pup you steal a glance at Vinnie. It’s raining and cold and you’ve both had to huddle in under the awning. He guided you both to the stove end of the cart, it’s warmer there. You’re glad he’s around today. He doesn’t say much but by the furrow of his brow he’s always thinking about something important, alert, scanning for trouble. Or is he just easily confused and not very bright? “Rai.” He says all of a sudden. “Yeah, what’s up Tonto?” You both look at each other as a grin spreads across both your faces. “What do you think happened to Agoytoh? Do think he got jacked by the Network?” Get the hell out of my head you think, but you say what’s been on your mind. “I don’t know, maybe. He was getting himself in pretty deep with the Network. He’s been trying to undermine their operation ever since I’ve known him. It’s what drew me to him in the first place.”
Why the hell are you opening up about this now? You haven’t spoken about Agz to anyone before today. Somehow being around Vinnie is a comfort, he just seems the same as you. Your people, like being with yourself. You don’t feel the need to explain but you want him to know. Maybe he can see all this from another angle. “Agz is so driven. I didn’t care that he barely had time for me, or us at first. His devotion to his cause was admirable. Of course none of what he was doing was endorsed by the Agency and if the B-boys found out they’d bring it! He got more and more obsessed Vinnie. To the point that at the end I barely knew him. Not long before he disappeared he’d come home spaced out, unresponsive and paranoid. He was changing, pulling away from me, from the agency, from reality. He started spraying Network dogma at everyone. I mean, ‘get to know your enemy to better defeat him’, yeah, but this was different, Vinnie.” Your words were getting urgent now, a little pleading. You were staring at Vincent with widening eyes. “What do you mean” he said, affecting a gentle calmness, which seemed to flow into you. You felt your thoughts slow a little and the urgency went out of your voice. “He told me, Vinnie” you spoke in hushed tones, looking left and right. “That he wanted to win SYTYCD!”
Vincent held your gaze and leaned in slightly, genuinely concerned. For Agz? For Neoredfern? No, for you. He reaches out a hand, shakes his watch, and puts his palm softly on your cheek. Your eyes close slowly and you let the weight of your head fall into his hand. It feels warm and reassuring, for a moment you feel the world drop away. Your only aware of a single consciousness, a soothing void of patient calm comes over you and normal linear time swells out into an infinite sphere. Then, “Pups up!” the cook barks.
Your order is ready and slammed down on the bar. The noise and smells of Udon square flood back in. You open your eyes and see Vinnie smiling back through strong gentle features. You grin a little and reach up taking his hand in both of yours moving it gently away. Without looking from his face you quickly and deftly steal the watch from his wrist. “Oi!” he starts. “This watch must be annoying the hell out of you”, you reply. You lie the watch on the bar sideways and tell him to hold it there. You pull out your utility tool and take off one of your earrings. Using the point of the sleeper on the joint of the watch band you bang out the pin and the band falls in two. You do the same for another link and then join the two parts together banging the pin into the joint again, shortening the band. This time the earring slips and you stab your finger. But the pin went in. You slip the watch back on Vincent’s wrist and do up the clasp. “There.” You say. “Thanks, Kimosabe” as he cleans a drop of blood from your finger. You both turn and eat in contented silence, you, feeling very pleased with yourself.
There’s a chance Agz is Markib! The thought blasts it’s way into your brain like a thunder bolt. Christ, the timing is right, his fascination with the Network makes sense. How did they turn him? Why is he determined to win SYTYCD and destroy life as we know it?
If you think that there is no way Agz could have changed, block out all those crazy thoughts and go to index 4.
If it’s possible the Network has turned Agz into a double agent get Vinnie on board and go to index 6.
**Index 6.
You reach over with your chopsticks and steal a piece of Vinnies pup. Then ask through a mouthful “You think the Network can change a person so they’d turn on their own kind?”
“I’ve heard they can screen time a person into doing whatever they want. Give them the right angle and the right demograph rendering and you’d be bum dragging on the carpet like a dog with worms if they wanted you to.”
“And why in the hell would they want to do that?”
“Just for laughs. Wouldn’t you, if you could? No seriously, There’s two types of people in the world, those from the Network and those from the coms. The best thing about us as humans is we get to choose who we want to be. An oracle from years ago, Bill Hicks, put it perfectly when he said;
‘The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it's very brightly colored, and it's very loud, and it's fun for a while. Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, "Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?" And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, "Hey, don't worry; don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride." And we … kill those people. "Shut him up! I've got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real." It's just a ride. But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn't matter, because it's just a ride. And we can change it anytime we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one. Here's what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money we spend on [SYTYCD] and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.’
“The point is Rai, we have a choice, the Network only gets away with it because we let them, they can’t force us. We choose to let their dem rendering work, we choose to want what they want us to want.” You steal another piece of his seal, he doesn’t even flinch. What’s he trying to say here, that Agz wanted to be turned? It’s hard to swallow but if Hicks was right and it’s about choice then Agoytoh really could be Markib. If that’s the case then can you get him back? Do you want him back if he made that choice willingly? The choice to damn the coms just for the glory and power of the Network.
… go to index 4.
**Index 7
You shake your head at Vincent and get the boss on the radio. You report what’s going on and request an all agent response to the b-zone. Vincent is trying to convince you of his idea, the crowd has got much louder now and the B-boys are starting to crump out. The noise of the crowd drowns out Vincent’s pleas and you ignore him and start moving the crowd out of the way. Benny and the other agents will be here shortly and they are going to need access. You’ve barely got a tunnel through the crowd and you see Benny heading a group of agents your way. They push between you and Vincent, you see his face in the crowd and think that maybe you owed him a chance, after all, he’s become more than the new guy. There’s no time for that now though and you quickly brief Benny and the others. They move into action and disperse themselves into the crowd spreading out evenly around the crews trying to to go unnoticed. “Rai”, Vincent yells, “Markib is going to be all over this. If he’s Agz, like I know you think he is, he’ll be ready for this it’s textbook.” If he’s Agz... Vincent’s in my head again, he’s put two and two together. A feeling of betrayal comes over you. You feel like you’ve let Agz down but you know in your heart that you’re right. That Agoytoh is Markib and his betrayal, not only to you and the coms but to the cause, to what it right, is unforgivable.
The agents are in place and over the radio Benny gives the order and they move in. Before Benny has even said the last word Markib whirls from his place in the centre. He moves to the B-boy bosses and says something inaudible. The bosses signal to their crews and they face out and close ranks. The agents are blocked they can’t get to Markib at all. You run in looking wildly for Vincent, you can’t see him anywhere. You’re about to scream some order to Markib to stand down when he faces off with both bosses! He challenged them to a sync battle. He’s going to take them both on at once. He’s played on the B-boy pride and tricked them into thinking they can win.
They pop and crump and he crumps and pops. Then he skanks the Flatley out of a move that’s never been skanked before, it’s like a whirlwind without gravity. He’s got them both, it was that easy. There’s no coming back from that. He’s won and the B-boy bosses hand over all their creds. Markib walks over to you and by the way he’s staring at your pendant with not even a drop of remorse you can tell you’ve lost Agz forever. He looks you in the eye one more time then disappears into the crowd just as a giant blimp with a screen on the side floats over Neoredfern screaming out a brand new promo for, So You Think You Can Dance. THE END.
**Index 8
“Pop lockers! Are you out of your mind? I’m trying to avoid a riot not start one” you yell back over the growing noise of the crowd. There’s so many com chants starting up you’re having trouble making sense of any of it. “Listen to me” he says. “What’s the one place we’ve never seen Markib?” You stare at Vincent, waiting. “Any zone where there’s been pop lockers. Why is that? Because they don’t play by the rules. He can’t predict them, he can’t out mode them and I don’t think he can beat them.”
“So what, Vinnie. What can we do about that now?” there’s a little desperation caught in the back of your throat.
“I used to be a pop locker, Rai” he says with a mixture of pride and sadness. How the hell did he get into the Agency you wonder. If the boys knew they’d have boxed him by now. You look back at him with barely restrained contempt. Are you willing to give him the benefit of the doubt? Confusion starts to trickle in, after all, you’ve been so close to this guy all day. You’ve trusted him like you trust yourself and that was just on instinct. He hasn’t even proven himself yet. Your instincts have never let you down before, it’s always been you and your gut and your gut says this guy, this bleeding-heart Tonto, has something to offer.
“Go on” you say. There’s a palpable sigh of relief in the air between you both.
“They're everywhere, Rai, the pop lockers. Always on the game. Especially near a zone. I’ve kept up my connections with the undergrounds. They know me and if there’s cred involved I think I can get them to help us bounce Markib”.
“Ok, sort it. What do you need?”
“Time. As much as you can get me”.
With that Vinnie walks off into the crowd and you send in a sitrep to the Boss. You turn toward Markib and made your way to the centre of the battle zone. The zone is in the middle of a huge slabbed concrete yard. There must be tens of thousands of people all jostling for a view. The word had got out that Markib was testing the crews. People know the score.They know that if Markib succeeds life as they know it will end and still they watch. They want to be entertained, the higher the odds the better the entertainment. Was Vincent right? Was Hicks right? Are there more than two types of people in the world? There are people on the ride, people who know they’re on the ride and people watching, totally passive, totally unaware, totally malleable. They could go either way and it all depends on who is building the rides. They want to be guided and whether the world is a good or horrible place depends on those with the courage to lead the way.
Markib turns toward you. As you get closer, his eyes dart left and right. He didn’t quite expect this and you wonder if you’ve blown Vincent’s chance by alarming Markib. You walk straight up to Markib and say “Hello Agoytoh!” He takes a step back suspicion and surprise in his eyes. He looks unsettled, for the first time he’s a little unsure of his destiny. He quickly composes himself and says “Took you this long to figure it out did it? I expected better from you darling, care for a battle?” he says as he takes off the mask. But you know you’ve got him, he’s committed to a battle now. There’s no way you can beat him but if he beats you he won’t get much, you’re just a credless agent and you’ve given Vinnie time.
“Why the Mask Agz? Didn’t have the balls to fuck the planet with your own face?”
“What do imagine you can do to stop me, Rai. The Network is right they can bring true peace...”
“Peace!” You cut him off. “You mean docility, they want us to be like cows Agz, herded and milked, homogenized and controlled!”
“And if no one gets hurt then all the better no? And who cares anyway, they don’t as long they get there little ‘tainment hit alls good in moo-town”.
“Oh, Agz” you reach out for him this time with compassion. “What have they done to you” He swats your hand away “Don’t touch me Agent!” He spits, “they’ve shown me the way, the truth. They’ve shown me there’s no way out. It’s in our nature to be controlled, this side, that side, on the fence we’re all being controlled by something or someone. It’s all a delusion Rai, there’s no choice to be free only a choice of who or what controls you. I chose the Network, should I have chosen the cows, the coms, the B-boys? It’s all a mess. The Network, they can make it work Rai. Give it a chance. Give SYTYCD a chance!"
You both look up from Markibs diatribe. You hadn’t noticed the crowd had gone silent the crews were standing still near the edges of the yard and surrounding you and Markib in a perfect circle were thirty odd pop-lockers. You couldn’t miss a pop-locker; leather, spikes, metal, tattoos, weapons and their out of context and ambiguous emotional expressions. They were all staring at Markib no mercy on their faces. Instead each face was quite confusing really, some are angry, surprised, sad, recalcitrant, despondent, perplexed, curious, giggly, crying even. Did they do this on purpose? What the hell was wrong with these people. Needless to say they were here to help, themselves if not you and the coms. A big pop-locker with pure twitching dread on his face stepped forward and said calmly but loudly “So, Agent Rai. You want us to save your culture ‘n shit?”
You look around for Vincent, he’s there, about a metre from the the big pop-locker. You catch his eye, he seems confident and prepared. “Yeah that’d be great” you say perplexed, having no idea what will happen next. The pop-lockers move in, they form into a cheer pyramid. Markib tries to turn and run but there’s more pop-lockers behind him threatening with homemade blades. The hanging truce since Flatley has meant that the fight instinct might have been suppressed but with a spurned cheerleader it’s not worth finding out and Markib know’s it. He turns and has to face off with the Pyramid he has never had to face so much height before he hasn’t trained for this... he... doesn’t have the moves! But in order to keep Markib from running the pop lockers are down in numbers, they can build the Pyramid but they haven’t got a jumper or a spotter.
Before this thought has finished forming in your mind Vincent has grabbed you by the elbow, he grabs your arm a lot this guy, “C’mon Rai, it’s all you, you can do this! I’m too heavy, I’ll spot you”. Markib can’t run so he has to battle but he still has to lose that battle. You climb up the base lockers using the ones above to get there. You stand on the shoulders of the pinacle with your back to Markib he’s looking skittish, his flight mechanism is in overdrive. You free your mind and your hands at the same time, you’re balancing easily on the lockers shoulders. The pyramid sways and leans but you compensate without thought. Your mind goes to the void, the emptiness the one that Vincent showed you, the space you’ve always known. And then, just when you’re about to touch infinity you bend knees and flip backwards, rotating your whole body in two dimensions, you seem suspended in time and space in perfect harmony. You bring your knees up as you see the ground below you and extend again for a perfect landing, feet astride, defiant. You pause for barely a second turn sideways look Markib in the eye and moon walk the shit out of his dignity. You’re already transitioning into the perfect running man and Vinnie is right there beside you in perfect sync. Bam! You win. You turn to Vincent and he’s smiling so far through his teeth you think he’ll split his face in half. You both jump in the air for the double high-five then fall into a gargantuan hug. “Yeah!” you both yell then you say to him, “they might have been bunk moves at the end but there’s no way he can pull off a start like that on his own”. You turn and say “Where’s your precious network now Agz?” Vincent puts his hand on your shoulder and your anger and indignation fade to compassion for the man that you once loved.
Benny and the other agents have arrived and take the defeated and unmasked Agoytoh into custody. With the network defeated and the coms and B-boys safe again, you take Vinnies hand and lead him out of the crowd. “Hey Tonto?” “Yeah, Kimosabe?” “how bout we go get ourselves a little something-something?” THE END.
