Chapter 88

Brian informs me that I have $400 trillion in my account now and the grunts on the starships can't get enough of our product. The miners on Avir are on double shifts to supply us. They are picked because they have a gene deficiency that makes them immune to the effects of the dust. The quacks have the means to implant the missing gene, but they prefer the money to getting high. It takes all sorts. Brian says we are helping the economy of the outer planets of Sirus 6, and to feel good about our enterprise. I still feel guilty and that I am soon to have my collar felt by the MIRS and the Narc squad. Avir Moon Dust in it's raw form is a potent narcotic, hence a banned substance in our solar system, but it can be synthesized into legal drugs that can cure a lot of disease’s, a great boon to mankind.

Enough of this, I need a gig to keep my sanity. I vid the agency, who say I they have been trying to contact me for weeks but Brian has told them that I didn't need the work as I have come into money, but as it happens there is a gig on the Ice Planet on Sax. No piano work. I am itching to play music and feel the vibe so I accept.

***************

The Quartet: Charlie Parker (as), Hank Jones (p), Teddy Kotick (b) and Max Roach (d).

As Recorded in New York City, on December 30, 1952. 


I am prossed up as Charlie Parker.

Charles "Charlie" Parker, Jr. (August 29, 1920 – March 12, 1955), also known as "Yardbird" and "Bird", was an American saxophonist and composer.

Parker was a highly influential jazz soloist and a leading figure in the development of bebop a form of jazz characterized by fast tempos, virtuosic technique, and improvisation. Some say it got it's name from an ipro. phrase ending in reebop. Parker introduced revolutionary harmonic ideas, including rapid passing chords, new variants of altered chords, and chord substitutions. His tone ranged from clean and penetrating to sweet and somber. Many Parker recordings demonstrate his virtuoso playing style and complex melodic lines.Many of his numbers had a latin influence.

Parker acquired the nickname "Yardbird" early in his career and the shortened form, "Bird", which continued to be used for the rest of his life, inspired the titles of a number of Parker compositions, such as Yardbird suit, Ornithology, "Bird gets the worm, and "Bird of Paradise."

Parker was an icon for the hipster subculture and later the, Beat Generation personifying the jazz musician as an uncompromising artist and intellectual, rather than an entertainer.

We Start with

THE SONG IS YOU
LAIRD BAIRD

KIM
& COSMIC RAYS

It's great to be playing again. I've been prossed up as Hank Jones on several occasions and now as Parker I get to play with him. Teddy Kotick on bass is also a joy to play with, he is with me on all the chord changes and sometimes leads me into territory that is challenging even with a Parker chip in my neck. As for Max Roach the best bee bop drummer ever, he keeps us all in check.

We finish the set with a stonking version of “All the things you are.” The ice packers go wild, the combo is hot enough to melt the whole planet. Back in the Green Room we all turn down our prosser controllers to a shimmer and talk jazz. Artie and me have swopped roles it seems as he reveals himself as Hank Jones, he is usually the saxo, to my key man. Artie seems a little disorientated and disappears into the Jon only to reappear refreshed. He has to be on something. He sees my quizzical look and offers me a wrap.
“Whats this?”
“Moon dust. Man it's so cheap now. The world's awash with it.”
I decline, but make a mental note to have words with Brian on my return to Mars. Somehow with Brian's input or not the Dust is getting back to Mars. I will have to put a stop to this before the Narcs lock me up and have me reprogrammed to enjoy road sweeping. You get a groovy ride on hover sweeper and a cool all in one, but it is still road sweeping.
******************

Brian was contrite, after I pointed out that he was on the verge of an overdose of sinning against mankind, and against ciber law, so the enterprise is stopped and all the drug money has been given to the Salvation Army space vagrants.
I visit Veronica. The view from her balcony is now of London in the 23rd century. The Thames sparkles as it snakes through the fields of blue around the old City walls. The smell of lavender wafts up on a warm breeze. She is on a lounger just inside the room. I sit at the white Bechstein doodling show tunes.
“Convalescing is the nearest I ever get to a holiday. Saving the Universe takes up a lot of time.” She takes a grape from the bunch on her side table and peels it using her nails to remove the skin.
“But I am being discharged tomorrow, then it's back to work.”
“With Doil, and Smith?”
“And Fats.”
“Another bullet another day.” She ignores my sarcasm.
“The fateful day is nearing and we must solve the puzzle.”
I want to ask her about the conspirators within the IGBI, but walls have ears.
“The IGBI's comps have been recalculating the timing of the butterfly moment and it may be that we have the year wrong even if we are out by a millisec the universe will go bang.”
“Maybe Fats is wrong as well, as much as I like being him, it always ends in a punch up at a Fish Fry, with him at the piano.”
“Fats is the only constant, we know it is him, but the timing is paramount.”
“And you getting a bullet.”
She waves her hand in a circular motion.
“Maybe.”