I was more than usually giddy when I woke up. I felt light-headed when I yawned, as though I was exhaling a dark thundercloud, purging away my chequered career at the University of Truth and Justice. Lying there with my arms behind my head, smiling into the darkness, I felt exhilarated, rejuvenated with every fresh breath. I was young, penniless, and in Berlin. I was ready for new adventures. I started by exploring my friend Lulu's apartment.
I found Lulu in a large room at the other end of the corridor, sitting at a desk covered with papers, the floor around her strewn with thick books. Her hair shone like a streak of molten gold in the cone of yellow light shed by the heavy desk lamp. Hearing my footsteps, she turned and scowled at me. "Since when have you been grinding your teeth in your sleep?" Lulu asked sternly. "I hit you but you just kept sleeping."
"When did you wake up?"
"Ages ago. You slept all day. At first I thought that the noise was a death rattle but it went on too long so I finally figured out that you were just grinding your teeth."
"All the stress I've been under."
"Sugarplum, stress is no excuse. Teeth are crucial. I bet Flossie still brushes thrice a day."
"Always," I confirmed. "Even when she's drunk. But what does Floss have to do with my teeth?"
Lulu gasped and put a hand to her lovely mouth. "You haven't heard?"
"What?"
"Flossie's been missing in weeks. She's being held hostage by these Sikh separatists whom she was interviewing. They're threatening to pull out all her teeth, one by one, week after week, until Punjab is liberated."
"Floss does have a lot of teeth," I said with outward nonchalance although my head was spinning like a top.
"It was on the news every night until some Amerikan dentist got kidnapped in Burma."
"Copycats?"
"Well, it makes sense," Lulu replied reasonably. "Amerikans are so obsessed with perfect teeth. The guerrilla groups finally realized how to get attention. It had to happen some time."
"What is the Amerikan government doing about it?"
"Dental diplomacy. They're offering the guerrillas free toothpaste for every man, woman, and child. And a million dollars in ransom money."
"So there is a tooth fairy after all."
"Aren't you worried?" Lulu said reproachfully. "Flossie is your best friend in the world."
"She can always get dentures." So that was why Flossie had not responded to my last letter asking her how she had heard of the Fund for Peace and Love, which had given her money for her research on Sikh militants, and which, as I had later discovered, was one of Xox's clandestine conduits for passing on covert funds to revolutionary groups around the world. "Lulu, may I make a quick phone call to Prague?"
"Go right ahead, darling," Lulu replied cheerfully. "The next tenant will take care of it."
I picked up the telephone and called the office of my former boss, the rector of the University of Truth and Justice, Professor Otto Hell. To my relief, Hell picked up the phone himself, grumpily.
"Otto?" I asked anxiously. "I'm calling from Berlin. I need a favour."
"What is it?" Hell responded crossly. "I'm playing chess right now."
"With whom?" I asked jealously.
"Your friend Immanuel. Want a blow-by-blow description?"
"I'm sorry to bother you. Otto, but my best friend has been kidnapped by Sikh separatists in India. Would you mind speaking to Xox about it?"
There was a long silence. "Sorry," Otto said finally. "Immanuel just moved. Why do you think Xox could help?"
"He finances the Sikhs, doesn't he?"
The sound of wrapping paper crumpling. Hell was laughing. "Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. Why should he use his influence to free your friend?"
"As a favor to you?"
Hell sighed. "I'll speak to him about it tomorrow."
"I don't know how to thank you," I said, sincerely.
"I'll think of something," Hell growled. "What are you doing in Berlin?"
"Visiting a friend," I replied cheerfully. "I'll send you a postcard."
"Do that," Hell answered. "Stay in touch."
"Good luck with the game." I put down the phone and slumped to the floor in relief.
Lulu stared wide-eyed at me. "What was that all about, sweetie?"
"Hell will tell Xox to tell the Sikhs to free Flossie," I explained concisely. "Isn't that nice?"
"It's lovely," Lulu replied. "Are they going to do it just out of the goodness of their little hearts?"
"Everyone owes someone something."
"So what does Hell owe you?"
"Nothing. But now I owe him a favor."
"You are so sentimental." Lulu shook her head. "I can't wait to tell Floss about this. Go take a shower, angel. We don't have much time and I want you to tell me what to wear."
"Where are we going?"
"Nasty called me. She said that Stash wants to have a drink with me." Lulu looked pleased with herself.
"Who are Nasty and Stash?"
"Oh, just people I met," Lulu said vaguely. "You'll like them."
"Do you like them?"
"Well..." To my amazement Lulu blushed. It was very becoming. I told her so. She grinned and stuck out her tongue provocatively at me. I kissed her. "Oh, go brush your teeth, sweetie," Lulu said, freeing herself. "Your mouth tastes terrible." She examined my appearance and shook her head. "You look like a wreck. What have you been doing to yourself? No, don't tell me now, just go and get ready. And hurry!"
I squatted in a rusty bathtub that had seen better days and cut myself in three places while shaving with soap and a dribble of freezing water. Bleeding onto my shirt, I emerged from the bathroom and collided into Lulu, naked, stripped for action, carrying a heap of dresses over her arm into the bedroom.
"I'm getting horribly fat," Lulu said, throwing the dresses onto the floor. She peevishly pinched a tiny fold of flesh at her wasp waist. "And my breasts are sagging."
"They are not," I said hotly. "They're just fine. Cute and perky as ever. I've never seen you worry about your looks."
"Honey, stop bleeding all over the place," Lulu said querulously, pulling on sheer black stockings. I admired the view. "It's really hard to get bloodstains out of parquet. I don't know whether to sleep with Stash. What should I wear?"
"The severe black jersey if you want to sleep with him. The flowery print if you don't," I advised. "Weren't you telling me just last night that you were giving up sex?"
Lulu pulled the black knit dress over her head. "He seems special," she said, her voice muffled by the cloth. She extricated her lovely head from the dress and smoothed its folds over her shapely body. "He's got charisma."
"How can you tell?" I asked, intrigued.
"You'll see. He's so cool. I don't even know if he wants to sleep with me. Sugar, will you please signal if you think I should seduce him?"
"Should I wink at you? Kick you under the table? Puff out my cheeks and blow?"
Lulu considered the options. "If you think I should, say `Midas', okay?"
"Why `Midas'?"
The doorbell rang loudly. "I'll tell you later," Lulu said mysteriously, lacing up her shiny black boots. "Go open the door, cherub."
I opened the door. A slim woman stood leaning languidly against the doorway. She looked up and smiled slowly at me. A mass of copper curls glowed dimly around the green flames that were her eyes. She was wearing a dress of black netting and nothing underneath. I noticed irrelevantly the small pink freckles that dotted her very pale heart-shaped face. "You're bleeding," she said huskily. I couldn't place her accent. "Do you mind?" She leaned forward, put her hands on my shoulders, and licked my cuts with quick feline flicks of her hot tongue. I shivered. "I love the taste of blood. My name is Anastasia. My friends call me Nasty. They are right."
From the frying pan right into the inferno, I sighed to myself, my face buried in the smoky red cloud of Anastasia's hair: I was a burnt child who dreaded passion's flames, yet I seemed destined to play with fire and get burnt once again.
