Robert
heard the boat before he saw it. He thought it must be some small fishing boat
with an outboard motor, but then, as the high pitched whine increased, a
flat-bottomed launch surged out of the mist. The captain of the vessel,
standing at the back holding the tiller, cut the engine and the Sound of Mura drifted up to the jetty.
Three women stood up in the boat and lurched to the side to clamber up on the
jetty, assisted by the captain. When they were on the jetty, the captain looked
at his watch.
“Eleven o’clock
then. That’s when the boat leaves. If you’re not here I go without you.”
“Excuse me,”
said Robert. “I thought the boat left at ten o’clock. That’s what it says on
the notice.”
“That was
last winter. We changed it to fit better with the ferry over from the mainland.”
The boatman busied himself securing the vessel to the jetty.
“Is there
anywhere to shelter – get a cup of coffee maybe?” asked Robert.
“You might
as well come with us,” said one of the long haired girls. Robert was used to
looking down slightly when he talked to women, but it was not necessary in this
case. All three were taller than him. “We’re going to the hotel for our daily
fix.” Robert looked puzzled. He’d not expected to encounter drug addicts in
such a remote spot.
“Don’t look
so worried. They do really good coffee. And more important, there’s a cigarette
machine. I’m Georgina, by the way. And this is Joni. And Greta: she’s from
Poland. We do assignments for the same agency.”
Ten minutes
brisk walking with the long-striding women and Robert was back at the hotel in
Blackwaterside. The man behind the bar was obviously expecting the women.
“The usual?”
“Yes
please,” said Georgina, “but put in an extra shot all round. Coffee for this
gentleman, too.”
The waiter
nodded at Robert. “I thought you were a wee bit early for the boat. It’s not a
day for sight-seeing.” Robert nodded back. He knew in theory that Scotland was
a mountainous country but in three visits he had only ever had the merest
glimpse of hillside through rain or mist.
Robert
joined the women in the smoking shelter whilst the coffee was prepared. He
asked them how long they had been at Dunlaggin Castle.
“Nearly
three weeks,” said Joni. “Twenty eight days is the preferred stay – you have to
go though one complete lunar cycle. It’s my second visit. It’s great because I
lose loads of weight which is so hard in London.”
“I didn’t
know Regina ran a weight loss programme,” said Robert.
“No, she
doesn’t. It’s just that the food is simple. There’s no alcohol – except once a
month at full moon. We drink loads of herbal tea and the pounds just fall off,
which is handy in our line of work.” Of course, thought Robert, models.
“So you’re
not interested in Regina’s animist philosophy?”
“I am,” said
Joni, directing a plume of smoke away from Robert. “I’m not sure about those
two. They seem more interested in practice than theory.” They all three
giggled. They moved back into the warmth of the hotel to drink their coffee and
spent the next twenty minutes establishing that Robert’s social circle and
their own did not overlap at any point.
“Is that a
watch?” asked Robert. “Only I’m worried about missing the boat.”
“This?” said
Georgina, waving an electronic bracelet on her right wrist. “No, it’s not a
watch. You have to wear it if you’re following the programme. You explain it,
Greta. I get embarrassed.”
Greta shuffled
up close to Robert and pulled back her sleeve.
“This is an
Orgatron. It measures the female sexual response. It’s an aid to women
following the programme because some women aren’t so sure if they’ve had an
orgasm or not, and others have them at the drop of a hat. See the red area on
the dial? That lights up if I have an orgasm and it sends a signal to Regina’s
computer. And the yellow, that’s the zone we have to stay in until the full
moon. It starts to flash if you get close to orgasm, it helps you learn
control. Regina will explain it much better. It’s a means to an end. The idea
is to connect with the spirit through the power of the female orgasm.”
http://steamereads.com.au/
Didn't Aldous HUxley have something like this in Chrome Yellow? Nothing new under the sun..or in the lab.
ReplyDeleteSo true, nothing new under the sun. But the sun didn't shine much on the Island of Mura.
ReplyDelete