Part 8 (2/2)

”Look!” Blossom cried out, and pointed up at them, swallowing. Her face was round and pink again, and saliva dripped from her glistening lips. ”Look who's here!”

A sudden shadow crossed Abigail's face, as though she were both embarra.s.sed and about to cry, and Lola noticed an ugly bruise on her forehead. Oliver grinned. ”Oh, so you've given up, have you?” he called to them. ”We knew you would.”

Peter couldn't help it. ”How ... how did you get it?” he stammered. ”Where did it come from?”

”From the machine!” Blossom cried triumphantly. ”From the machine! It works without you now, just like I said it would. We don't need you anymore. Go ahead and starve!”

Lola was holding herself stiffly, her mouth clamped shut. ”But ...,” said Peter. ”But how ...?”

”Don't know how, Pete,” Oliver sang out, chuckling. But his voice was strained and too loud, and the chuckle was more like a cough. ”Don't know how or why. But it works. Want to come back? You can if you want to, you know.” He shook his head mock-seriously, clucking his teeth. There were black s.p.a.ces where several were now missing. ”You both look kind of thin and pale. Not taking good care of yourselves. You need some fattening up. We'll let them come back, won't we?”

”Well, I don't know about Lola ...,” Blossom said.

”Oh, sure,” Oliver said genially. ”Let 'em both come back, even though we don't need them. We can afford to be generous. On one condition, that is.” He paused for a moment, and his eyes were suspicious and hard. ”On one condition. We don't want anybody interfering with the machine. If you want to come back, you'll have to follow the rules, like we do.”

”Oh, cut the ...,” Lola began, and then her voice trailed off. She was staring down at the slot in the landing. Peter could hardly believe it. Was she thinking of giving in?

Blossom's mouth curled up; Oliver's grin widened. Peter couldn't bear to see her humiliated in front of them. And at any moment the light and the voices might start, and then they would be helpless. There was only one thing to do, and he grabbed Lola and spun her around.

As they stumbled together up the steps, Blossom's voice floated harshly up to them. ”You were right, Lola, you were right about what it wants us to do, you knew all along. But it doesn't care who we do it to, you know. And we're running out of things to do to each other. It won't do any good to starve yourselves, it won't make any difference now.” Her voice grew fainter behind them. ”All it means is you'll be hungrier and weaker when we come. And we'll be coming soon. Very soon....”

Chapter 18.

For Blossom, Abigail, and Oliver, the hunger hadn't lasted very long at all. Their successful new pattern had begun, in fact, just after Blossom had returned from her visit to Peter and Lola.

Oliver and Abigail, sitting on different stairways, had been waiting for her rather hopelessly. After all, if they had failed, then certainly Blossom wouldn't be able to do any good. Oliver had decided that their next move would be to go up there all together and just drag them down. It was three against two, and he was stronger than either of them. It would have been easier if they had ropes to tie them with, but however they did it, sitting on them or tying their feet together with his pants or whatever, they would just have to keep them down on the landing until the light and the voices began.

Oliver was sure that if that happened, they wouldn't be able to keep from dancing. The three of them, even though they knew it wouldn't do any good, had been dancing frantically every time the signals went on; it was as inevitable as if they were puppets being pulled by strings, and they were helpless against it. If they could only get Peter and Lola down there, and keep them from running away, then they would be just as helpless, and they would dance, and there would be food.

Blossom was about thirty feet away when the lights and voices began. It was amazing, Oliver noticed as he began to dance, how fast someone as fat as she was could move; she practically flowed down the stairs and was into her little path around the hole by the middle of the first repet.i.tion. And at the end of the second, a pellet rolled out.

They were too well trained by this time to be able to stop and grab for it, though each of them longed to; for mixed with their relief was the anxiety that this fortunate fluke of the machine would not last. They needn't have worried. The pellets rolled out for a good long time, and when they did stop there was enough, not to satisfy them, of course, for that it never did, but enough at least so that all three of them could alleviate in part the physical pain, and feel warmth in their stomachs once again.

”But why?” Oliver asked, swallowing his last piece. ”We've got to figure out why it happened, so we can make it happen again.”

”I don't understand,” said Blossom, who was hungrily eyeing the five pellets still in Abigail's lap. Blossom always finished first, and Abigail had the annoying habit of eating very slowly, so that she usually still had food when everyone else was through.

”Maybe it was something you did,” Oliver said. ”What did you do up there, what did you say to them?”

Blossom gazed upward in thought, letting her fingers play with her lips. ”Well ... first I just asked them to come down, I practically begged begged them.” Her eyes slid over to Oliver for a moment, then away. ”But no, they were too stupid and stubborn to pay any attention. So then I got mad, and I said we would get the machine to work.... Oh, isn't it wonderful! Oh, it feels so good to eat! Do you think it will work again?” them.” Her eyes slid over to Oliver for a moment, then away. ”But no, they were too stupid and stubborn to pay any attention. So then I got mad, and I said we would get the machine to work.... Oh, isn't it wonderful! Oh, it feels so good to eat! Do you think it will work again?”

”That's what I'm trying to find out. Go on, what else did you say?”

”Well, I said we would get the machine to work, without them, and that we would let them starve. And now we can!” She clapped her hands together in spontaneous, excited antic.i.p.ation. ”And you know Lola thinks the machine wants us to hurt each other, so I said we'd do mean things to them them to make the machine give us food.” to make the machine give us food.”

”Good girl, Blossom!” said Oliver, beaming, and he stepped over to her and grasped her shoulder affectionately. ”Good girl.”

”What do you mean?” Abigail asked, looking rather frightened. ”I don't know what you mean.”

”It's very simple,” Oliver said in a patronizing voice, returning to his place beside her. ”Very simple.” How wonderful it felt to be the smart one, the one with the ideas, the one in command! How wonderful to be rid of Lola and that horrible inadequate feeling she always gave him. He even felt strong enough now to be able to say, ”Because Lola was was right, in her dumb hysterical way. The machine right, in her dumb hysterical way. The machine does does want us to hurt each other. For the last four times it's only worked when somebody made someone else feel rotten. It wants us to do that so much that it's even letting us get away with doing the dance without them. At last we really understand. Now we know what to do, and we don't have to worry about being hungry ever again.” want us to hurt each other. For the last four times it's only worked when somebody made someone else feel rotten. It wants us to do that so much that it's even letting us get away with doing the dance without them. At last we really understand. Now we know what to do, and we don't have to worry about being hungry ever again.”

Abigail clutched his arm. ”But ... but how can you be so calm, and so ... so happy about it? Doesn't it scare you? What's going to happen, what kind of things are we going to have to do?”

”You'll find out soon enough,” said Oliver, winking at Blossom. ”Blossom's already good at it, and I can learn quick.” Suddenly his voice was very serious. ”And you will too, Abigail; you will too.”

That was when it had begun, and there were so many possibilities just among the three of them that Peter and Lola were practically forgotten. Oliver, eager to test his ability to satisfy the machine, got off to a good start by taking Abigail right upstairs and kissing her. As soon as she really seemed to be getting lost in it, he stepped suddenly away from her and told her exactly how he felt. ”I always hate you after I've kissed you. All I want is to get away from you, because you disgust me. The only time I can stand you is when I want to do it again. And if there was any other halfway bearable girl around I'd probably be with her instead of you.”

The light and voices hadn't started immediately, as they had the last four times, but Oliver hadn't worried, because he knew it wasn't the machine's way to let them tell it when to work. Those last times it had only been teaching them; and now that they had learned, it would continue to perform as randomly as ever, as long as they kept on doing what it wanted. He understood perfectly. Not until several hours after his episode with Abigail did the lights and the voices come on; but the food, even with just the three of them dancing, was more plentiful than ever.

Blossom tried next, and again Abigail was the victim. It was just after they had been fed and, as usual, Blossom had finished while Abigail still had quite a substantial pile. Suddenly realizing that the machine would actually like like it if she did what she was so desperately longing to do, Blossom stood up, pretended briefly that she was simply wandering around, and then suddenly pounced on Abigail, scooped up everything she had left, and stuffed it into her mouth. it if she did what she was so desperately longing to do, Blossom stood up, pretended briefly that she was simply wandering around, and then suddenly pounced on Abigail, scooped up everything she had left, and stuffed it into her mouth.

”But you can't do that!” cried Abigail, leaping up. ”Give them back! You can't do that!”

Blossom backed away, mumbling something unintelligible through her bulging cheeks, and Oliver grabbed Abigail's wrist sharply and pulled her back to the step. ”Now, now,” Oliver said, squeezing her wrist and smiling at her. ”Temper, temper, Abigail. It's your own fault for eating so slow.”

And it was not long before Abigail, inevitably, began doing her fair share. She felt so hungry and wretched that it had been a real blow when Blossom had taken away her food, and for the first time in her life she began holding a grudge. All day the resentment and anger grew inside her. All she could think about was how to get back at Blossom, and at last an idea came to her. When the others had fallen asleep, she got up and moved very quietly over to where Blossom lay on her stairway, her mouth open, snoring slightly. Abigail bent over and as gently as possible began tearing off the bottom ruffle of her skirt.

She had reached the third ruffle when Blossom s.h.i.+fted, wiped her nose vaguely, grunted, and sat up. Then she shrieked. ”Hey! What are you doing doing?” she wailed. ”My dress, what have you done to my dress, you ...?” In an instant she was on her feet, her hands around Abigail's neck, shaking her.

Abigail tried to push her away, but Blossom was surprisingly strong. ”Oliver!” Abigail gasped. ”Oliver, help me!”

But all Oliver did was rock back and forth on his step and laugh. Indeed, Blossom was quite a ludicrous sight, her face red and puffy, her teeth clenched, and her skirt hanging in loops and tatters from her hips, exposing her huge, jellylike thighs.

Of course Blossom did not soon forget Abigail's act. And Abigail soon learned to be extra careful at meals. There was no longer any orderly dividing up of the food. They would grab what they could get at the end of each dance, guarding it closely and keeping their eyes on the others as they ate.

They also explored the exciting possibilities of two against one. It was no longer very easy for one of them to grab another's food, for they were all guarding it so carefully now; but when both Blossom and Oliver attacked Abigail together, for example, each could get a substantially larger quant.i.ty than when trying it alone. Oliver and Abigail could then attack Blossom immediately afterwards; Oliver would get even more and Abigail could get back part of her share.

And as time went on they became interested in more elaborate plotting. Oliver began it by arranging with Blossom that she would hide herself above a particular landing at a certain time, pretending to Abigail that she was going to the toilet. He then very tenderly brought Abigail up to the landing, taking back what he had said before and telling her he really did care for her after all. And Abigail, though hardly dumb enough to believe him, nevertheless could not resist the chance for even a tiny morsel of affection, though she knew it would probably result in pain. And it did. Tender at first, he quickly became just as nasty as before; and while he was berating her, Blossom, who had been looking on the whole time, appeared, giggling as she watched Abigail's humiliation.

”She'll believe anything I tell her,” Oliver said, beginning to laugh along with Blossom as Abigail hid her face in shame. ”She'll believe anything. Whenever I want her I just give her some romantic c.r.a.p and she falls for it every time.” Blossom was laughing so hard by now that tears were rolling down her cheeks.

But Abigail was growing tougher, there was no alternative, and as soon as she had gotten over her embarra.s.sment, she began her own arrangement with Blossom. She did not wait until they were alone, but began whispering and giggling with Blossom in front of Oliver, and when he demanded to know what they were saying she merely blushed and looked down. She kept it up for quite awhile, Oliver stiffly pretending to ignore them whenever he was able to control himself, and futilely resorting to violence when he was not.

Blossom went along with it gleefully, both of them watching him out of the corners of their eyes as they snickered together. Finally Oliver, in a rage, ran up to the toilet, and when he returned they were crouching above the landing, on a stairway from which they could see him clearly but were hidden from below. He looked around for awhile, obviously confused, calling their names. Abigail waited for a few minutes, doing her best to keep herself and Blossom from giving themselves away by laughing; and then, at a moment when Oliver's back was turned, simply dropped her shoe down onto the landing.

His reaction was even better than they had expected: With a terrified squeal he leaped into the air and was halfway up a stairway before he noticed their shrieks of laughter and turned around to see the harmless shoe lying there. He raced back and heaved the shoe out into the void, cursing; but it was well worth it to Abigail because from that point on she could drive him instantly into a rage simply by glancing over at Blossom, smiling, and making a remark like, ”Remember how high he jumped? Lola must have been right about him after all.”

That little trick of hiding above and dropping something on an unwary person, or persons, below, worked a few more times, in various combinations. Oliver once threw his his shoe with all the force he could manage down at Abigail, making a bruise on her forehead that lasted for many days; and another time he urinated down on both of them, to their intense disgust. But soon this particular device lost its savor, for they all became conscious of it, and looked above them frequently whenever anyone was missing, too wary to be surprised. shoe with all the force he could manage down at Abigail, making a bruise on her forehead that lasted for many days; and another time he urinated down on both of them, to their intense disgust. But soon this particular device lost its savor, for they all became conscious of it, and looked above them frequently whenever anyone was missing, too wary to be surprised.

And gradually something much deeper than just a tendency to trick and humiliate began to develop in all three of them. It was a total mistrust, an incessant wariness, like the constant expectation of a blow. They would flinch, both physically and mentally, whenever anyone approached, instantly planning a defense. When alone, they would be extrasensitive to even the slightest sound or movement, prepared to s.h.i.+eld themselves. But it was not simply being afraid, for aggression was just as important as self-protection, and they learned to detect quickly whenever anyone was in a vulnerable position, and then strike accordingly; to seek out and make use of any weak points. They no longer saw one another as people, but only as things to make use of. And, though there were many brief alliances due to the effectiveness of two against one, they nevertheless became more and more distant from one another. Any sign of closeness or affection, after all, only led inevitably to rejection and betrayal, and it was necessary to keep oneself as invulnerable as possible, to avoid exposing any soft spots. They regarded one another constantly with hard, glittering eyes, their faces expressionless, their movements sudden and furtive. And the more careful they became, the more difficult it became to find ways of hurting each other.

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