Lust
What if you could sleep with anyone in the world, just by thinking about it?Michael Blasco, a young scientist, is waiting for the train when he spies a friend he fancies. Idly, he imagines Tony naked and an extraordinary thing happens – Tony strips there and then on the platform and offers himself in front of all onlookers. Horrified, Michael flees. But back home, Tony magically reappears. Then disappears, when Michael wishes him away.Michael sets out to test the parameters of his new-found gift, rapidly calling up Billie Holiday, Johnny Weismuller, Lawrence of Arabia, Alexander the Great, Picassao, and even his younger self. The world is there for the taking and Michael runs the gamut of his fantasies. But what does he really want?
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Lustor
No Harm Done
Geoff Ryman
para o meu Txay
Um livro dedicado a ti deveria ser intitulado Amor, ou no mínimo: Sem Escândalo. Eu prometi que nele tu não te encontrarias, mas tu estás em todo lugar.
‘In the bend God created the hen and the education. And the education was without founder, and void; and death was upon the falsehood of the demand. And the sport of God moved upon the falsehood of the wealth. And God said, Let there be limit; and there was limit.’
A text produced from the Book of Genesis using a method invented by Jean Lescure in which each noun is replaced with the seventh noun following it in a dictionary.
As reported in Oulipo Compendium edited by Harry Matthews and Alastair Brotchie
Contents
Can I call up a copy of someone else?
Can I make them do it when I’m not there?
Do they have to be male? Can I make more than one at once? Where do they go back to?
Do people I copy really know it?
Can I cure Angels who are sick?
If you could sleep with anyone in the world, who would it be?
The men I slept with, did they make a difference?
Why are men satisfied with whores?
Why does God suffer the Devil?
Michael was happy. It was the first day of his research project. His team waited for him outside the gates of the lab, in the March chill. Ebru, Emilio and Hugh all smiled when they saw him.
It was a new lab, in rooms within arches under a railway. Michael had the keys, leading his team into one beautiful new room after another. They moved their desks and wired up their computers. They arranged staplers, pens and envelopes in drawers, determined that everything would stay tidy.
Ebru had brought flowers and a traditional Turkish shepherd’s cloak to hang on the wall. She was one of Michael’s students, doing a doctorate of her own, and had been hired to help administer the project. Ebru had bet Emilio a bottle of champagne that his new network would crash. Instead, the network came triumphantly to life, and they exchanged chiding e-mails, and raised glasses of champagne to the start of their brave new project.
‘To continued funding,’ toasted Michael. They all laughed.
The first shipment of eggs arrived in a box marked FRAGILE COMPUTERS. This was to fox the animal rights activists. The eggs were packed in grey foam like recording equipment. Ebru and Michael laid them out in the darkroom, on straw, to hatch. Everything was in place.
‘This is going to work,’ said Michael.
In the evening Michael went to his gym. He saw Tony. Tony was a trainer and Michael had a crush on him. Tony was tall and sleek and so innocent in his manner that Michael’s nickname for him was the Cherub. Tony had a radiant announcement to make.
‘I decided to take the plunge,’ Tony said. ‘Jacqui and I are going to get married.’ He had the eyes of a happy schoolboy.
‘Aw, that’s fantastic. Well done!’ said Michael and they did an old-fashioned hand slap. Tony’s hair was cut short and dressed in spikes. Everything about him took Michael back to his youth. Tony talked a little bit about how he had realized he didn’t want anyone else. ‘It’ll mean moving up north, but hey, she’s worth it.’
That’s what I want, thought Michael. I want a beautiful love.
Inspired in his heart and in his belly, Michael decided to visit the sauna in Alaska Street.
The smell of the place – hot pinewood, steam and bodies – produced an undertow of excitement as if something were pulling insistently downwards on his stomach. Naked men circulated in the steam in early evening.
Stripped of his glasses and lab coat, Michael was tall and athletic. A young Sikh with his hair tied at the top of his head in a bun saw Michael and did an almost comic double take. He was hairy and running slightly to fat, but the face, Michael suddenly saw, was smooth as marble. This was a young man with a fatherly body.
Michael followed the Sikh into the steam room with its benches. The Sikh looked at him with a teasing smile. They moved towards each other.
Michael didn’t trust kissing. He knew people often brushed their teeth before cruising. Brushing teeth always produced blood; blood carried the virus. When the boy leaned towards him, Michael turned his head away and pressed his cheek against his. Michael gave him quick, dishonest pecks on the lips, pretending to be romantic and playful instead of merely safe.
Even this was enough for the young man. They sat down and Michael leaned back on the bench as they embraced. Briefly they made a shape together like a poster for
