Death Dealers by N P Martin

Author:N P Martin [Martin, N P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-19T23:00:00+00:00

13

A while later, I was inside Artemis and Pan Demic’s penthouse as I stood staring down into the living room in mild disbelief at the makeshift stage erected there.

A stage that was occupied by three young Japanese girls dressed in black and red outfits. Each of the girls had a microphone in their hands and were pretending to sing as they danced energetically along to the music blaring out of the speakers in every corner of the room.

To the side of the stage stood a burly security guy in a dark suit, who watched on impassively as the girls did their thing.

The music coming out of the speakers sounded like metal—all heavy guitar riffs and frantic drumming, underpinned by breakneck synths—but the singing over the top of the music wasn’t exactly metal in style. The vocals were female and sung in a cutesy Japanese voice. It was a strange combination, but somehow it worked.

“Babymetal!” Artemis shouted over the music as he and Pan Demic stood down near the stage, off their heads on coke as usual as they head-banged and pogoed around to the frantic beats.

“What?” I shouted back to Artemis as I stood behind the bank of computer screens on the level above. “Come up here, will ya!”

Artemis practically ran up the steps to where I was standing and then began to pogo around me as a particularly heavy guitar riff blasted from the speakers. “Babymetal!” he shouted again. “They’re a Japanese band.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I said as I looked down at the frantically dancing girls on stage, who looked like they were barely over eighteen.

“Not them,” Artemis said as he finally came to a stop and grabbed a half-full bottle of beer off his desk. “Those cute little things are just a tribute act. They aren’t even singing; they’re just miming. But still, they look awesome, don’t they?”

“They look like jailbait.”

“That’s why the security guy is here.”

“Thank god.”

Drawing back in mock offense, Artemis said, “Drakester…whatta you take us for?”

“A couple o’ pervs.”

Artemis smiled, his dark eyes like saucers. “You’re totally right, we are. What do you think of the music then? Babymetal are our latest obsession. Pan Demic and me go to every show they play here. We’ve seen them dozens of times. Their guitarist died last year, though. Fell off an observation deck while stargazing with his wife. You believe that? And then Yuimetal left the band, which was so sad, and a massive shock to us all.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“She’s sorely missed by everyone,” he went on as his lower jaw rotated, seemingly of its own accord thanks to the drugs he was on. “Poor Moametal had to take up the slack for a while there. It was sad seeing her on stage behind Su-metal. She looked like a spare part. Luckily, the band found a replacement for Yuimetal, but me personally, I don’t think anyone will ever replace Yuimetal.”

“I have no idea what the fuck you are rambling on about,” I said. “You said you had information for me.

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