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Difference between revisions of "Dillon Chrimes"
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He plays the [[vibrastar]] in a cosmos group. That makes him valuable personnel. “I’m unique, like a flow-sculpture,” he sometimes boasts. Actually there’s another vibrastar man in the building, but to be one out of merely two is still a decent accomplishment. There are only two cosmos groups in Urbmon 116; the building can’t really afford much redundancy in its entertainers. Dillon doesn’t think highly of the rival group, though his opinion is based more on prejudice than familiarity—he’s heard them three times, is all. There’s been talk of getting both groups together for an all-out headblaster of a joint concert, perhaps in Louisville, but no one takes such teasers seriously. Meanwhile they go their separately programed ways, moving up and down through the urbmon as the spiritual weather dictates. The usual gig is five nights in a city. That allows everybody in, say, Bombay, who stones on cosmos groups to see them the same week, thereby providing conversation fodder for the general sharing. Then they move along, and, counting nights off, they theoretically can make the circuit of the whole building every six months. But sometimes gigs are extended. Do the lower levels need excesses of bread and circuses? The group may be handed fourteen nights running in Warsaw, then. Do the upper levels need psychic deconstipation in a big way? A twelve-night run in Chicago, maybe. Or the group itself may go sour and have to get its filters reamed, necessitating a layoff of two weeks or more. | He plays the [[vibrastar]] in a cosmos group. That makes him valuable personnel. “I’m unique, like a flow-sculpture,” he sometimes boasts. Actually there’s another vibrastar man in the building, but to be one out of merely two is still a decent accomplishment. There are only two cosmos groups in Urbmon 116; the building can’t really afford much redundancy in its entertainers. Dillon doesn’t think highly of the rival group, though his opinion is based more on prejudice than familiarity—he’s heard them three times, is all. There’s been talk of getting both groups together for an all-out headblaster of a joint concert, perhaps in Louisville, but no one takes such teasers seriously. Meanwhile they go their separately programed ways, moving up and down through the urbmon as the spiritual weather dictates. The usual gig is five nights in a city. That allows everybody in, say, Bombay, who stones on cosmos groups to see them the same week, thereby providing conversation fodder for the general sharing. Then they move along, and, counting nights off, they theoretically can make the circuit of the whole building every six months. But sometimes gigs are extended. Do the lower levels need excesses of bread and circuses? The group may be handed fourteen nights running in Warsaw, then. Do the upper levels need psychic deconstipation in a big way? A twelve-night run in Chicago, maybe. Or the group itself may go sour and have to get its filters reamed, necessitating a layoff of two weeks or more. | ||
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| + | *https://glorioustrash.blogspot.com/2021/05/the-world-inside.html | ||
Revision as of 10:15, 2 May 2023
Vibrastar player for an unnamed "cosmos group" in the 1971 "fix-up" science fiction novel The World Inside by Robert Silverberg.
Dillon is seventeen. More than middle height, with silken blond hair to his shoulders. Traditional, the old Orpheus bit. Crystalline blue eyes.
He loves staring at them in a round of polymirrors, seeing the icy spheres intersect. Happily married, and three littles already, god bless! His wife’s name is Electra. She paints psychedelic tapestries. Sometimes she accompanies him when he’s touring with the group, but not often. Not now. He has met only one woman who lights him nearly as much. A Shanghai slicko, wife of some Louisville-bound headknocker. Mamelon Kluver, her name. The other girls of the urbmon are just so many slots, Dillon often thinks, but Mamelon connects. He has never told Electra about her. Jealousy sterilizes.
He plays the vibrastar in a cosmos group. That makes him valuable personnel. “I’m unique, like a flow-sculpture,” he sometimes boasts. Actually there’s another vibrastar man in the building, but to be one out of merely two is still a decent accomplishment. There are only two cosmos groups in Urbmon 116; the building can’t really afford much redundancy in its entertainers. Dillon doesn’t think highly of the rival group, though his opinion is based more on prejudice than familiarity—he’s heard them three times, is all. There’s been talk of getting both groups together for an all-out headblaster of a joint concert, perhaps in Louisville, but no one takes such teasers seriously. Meanwhile they go their separately programed ways, moving up and down through the urbmon as the spiritual weather dictates. The usual gig is five nights in a city. That allows everybody in, say, Bombay, who stones on cosmos groups to see them the same week, thereby providing conversation fodder for the general sharing. Then they move along, and, counting nights off, they theoretically can make the circuit of the whole building every six months. But sometimes gigs are extended. Do the lower levels need excesses of bread and circuses? The group may be handed fourteen nights running in Warsaw, then. Do the upper levels need psychic deconstipation in a big way? A twelve-night run in Chicago, maybe. Or the group itself may go sour and have to get its filters reamed, necessitating a layoff of two weeks or more.
