Part 9 (1/2)
”Sorry,” said the Islander to Natch under his breath. ”I know you want answers. But I don't have them.”
Natch shrugged. ”I believe you.” He lifted his right hand up, waving the glinting programming rings under Quel 's nose. ”Mind if I keep these for a while?
The Islander rubbed his chin for a moment, and Natch could see he was trying to decide if he should ask why. Final y he nodded. ”Go ahead. I've got another set back at Andra Pradesh.” He reached into the pocket of his breeches and withdrew a smal black felt bag, which he handed to Natch. Natch deposited the rings one by one in the bag and then cinched its drawstring closed.
”Listen, Natch, I need to make something clear,” continued Quel , lowering his voice.
”Everyone in this fiefcorp seems to think I understand everything about MultiReal. But I don't. Of course, I know a lot more than you do ... but even sixteen years ago, MultiReal was already bigger than any piece of bio/logic programming on the market. Some of the pieces of that program are over a hundred years old, Natch. I've seen routines in there dating back to Prengal Surina. I wouldn't be surprised to find s.h.i.+t written by Sheldon Surina. The Surinas, they invented bio/logic programming. One family, unlimited resources, three hundred sixty years. Does anyone real y know what they're capable of?”
Quel shook his head, angry at everything and nothing at once. The taunting of the Council officer across the street caught his eye once again. The Islander hefted an imaginary dart-rifle to his shoulder and fired off a single round, with a click of his tongue as sound effect. His white-robed adversary rattled his very real dart-rifle in the air and shouted something insulting, unintel igible at this distance.
”You have to understand, Natch,” continued Quel with more than a little bitterness in his voice. ”Those Surinas, they don't let you in. Not even me, not even after twenty years.”
Natch frowned. He knew the feeling al too wel . Sometimes it seemed like the entire world was nothing but a vast edifice designed to keep him out.
He caught a quick glimpse of Horvil and Vigal out of his peripheral vision, stil deep in conversation.
”Listen, Quel ,” said Natch. ”I need answers soon. This can't wait. The MultiReal exposition's a week from today, and I've stil got Magan Kai Lee breathing down my neck.” He made an angry gesture at the squads of Council officers below.
”So what are you going to do?” asked Quel .
”You're going to Andra Pradesh to see Margaret?”
The Islander nodded.
”Then I'm coming with you. No, don't say it-I've already tried to multi there half a dozen times. Her idiotic security force won't even let me in the compound. But if I show up there in person, with you, they'l let me in. Then you're going to take me to the top of the Revelation Spire, and I'm going to get some answers from Margaret.”
”What if Margaret stil refuses to see you?”
”Oh, she'l see me,” replied Natch, his voice venom. ”She'l see me, or I'l tear that whole b.l.o.o.d.y compound down brick by brick.”
12.
Jara strode through the crooked hal ways of the Kordez Tha.s.sel Complex cursing the chil . The Tha.s.selians did this on purpose, she thought bitterly, wondering if some fiefcorp with a warmth-generating program had thrown the creed a few credits to lower the thermostat. I don't care if it is January in the Twin Cities-there's no excuse.
The a.n.a.lyst closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind. Fiefcorp greed was a fruit that ripened in al seasons and could be found by the bushel anywhere you looked. She needed to stay focused on the subject at hand: the Patel Brothers.
Jara couldn't figure out what kind of playbook Frederic and Petrucio were working from.
Obviously they had s.h.i.+fted tactics since their first MultiReal demo, which even the most Natchophobic of drudges cal ed an overproduced, underimagined failure. Today's demo was an industry-only event. No creed officials or L-PRACG bureaucrats or curious onlookers would be on hand to provide distractions; not even the drudges were invited, unless they specifical y covered the bio/logic programming beat.
What mischief were the Patels up to now? Were they real y in league with the Defense and Wel ness Council, as Margaret suspected?
Jara fol owed Robby Robby's beacon, which led her from the Tha.s.sel Complex's gateway zone through a drunken loop of frigid hal ways and final y to a smal clump of people outside the auditorium entrance. She hung back for a moment, checking Data Sea profiles. You never knew who was on the Council's payrol , and after her London encounter with Magan Kai Lee, there was no level of paranoia to which Jara would not sink.
The slick, square-jawed individual blathering away in the group's epicenter was, of course, Robby Robby. He had abandoned his cubed hairdo at some point this past week for a frizzy style that would have looked at home on a clown or a cultist. Next to Robby stood Phranco-liape, one of the Data Sea's most respected channelers, his distinguished white beard making a vibrant contrast with his rich African skin. Three quick pings to the public directory tagged the youths standing in Phrancoliape's shadow as his junior apprentices.
So far, so good. Then Jara spotted the last member of the group and nearly bolted for the exit. Xi Xong, the Patel Brothers' dowager channeler extraordinaire.
Jara hadn't quite decided what to do when Robby Robby spotted her. ”Watch out, Twin Cities!” bel owed the channeler in a voice loud enough to warp time and s.p.a.ce. ”The official Surina/Natch delegation is now a.s.sembled!”
Her cover blown, Jara walked up and gave a polite bow to the group. ”Keep it down, Robby. I'm not supposed to be here, remember?”
”Eh, don't worry your pretty little head,” replied Robby. ”'Trucio knows you're here, and he doesn't care. Right, Xi?”
Xi Xong's face was painted as heavily as a Kabuki mask. ”Of course, darling,” she said in that faux high-society accent of hers. ”The Patels always keep things aboveboard and out in the open. Not like Jara's boss.” She turned toward the a.n.a.lyst with a vicious smile that revealed too many teeth.
”Speaking of which ... tel me, how is Lucas Sentinel these days?”
Jara could feel the blood flowing to her face unbidden. ”I-I work for Natch now, Xi,” she stuttered. ”I haven't had anything to do with Lucas for, what, almost five years.” And you know it, too.
The Patels' channeler emitted a whooping crane laugh. ”I'm sorry, dear, you're right. I always get those two confused. Natch, Lucas. They're so much alike, don't you think?” Robby bobbed his head idiotical y, always on the lookout for a stray opinion to agree with. One of Phrancoliape's apprentices chuckled. ”Wel , duty cal s,” said Xong. ”Perfection to you al .” And then she whirled around on one k.n.o.bbed stalk of leg and disappeared into the auditorium.
Jara bristled. How long were people going to browbeat her about her a.s.sociation with Lucas Sentinel? And what did she have to be ashamed about anyway? Lucas had been the one who demolished their working relations.h.i.+p with his fumbling attempts at seduction. Al Jara had done was spurn his advances. So why did it stil feel like a moral failure on her part?
Trying to regain her equilibrium, she turned to Phrancoliape. ”So who're you s.h.i.+l ing for these days, Phranc?”
”Oh, Pierre Loget, same as always,” replied the channeler in a warm baritone. He either did not notice the tangled barbs on Xi's words or was purposeful y ignoring them. ”Now that you and the Patels have stopped worrying about Primo's, somebody has to keep Lucas and Bol iwar out of the top spot.” The latter referring to Bol iwar Tuban, whose reputation for nastiness was on par with Natch's.
”So where is Pierre these days?” said Jara. ”I read something about him on the drudge circuit the other day. John Ridglee says he's missing.”
”Yeah, what do the drudges know?” one of Phranc's apprentices blurted out, a little too quickly.
The channeler himself let out a good-natured laugh. ”Your boss has a tendency to disappear for weeks at a time too,” he told Jara, waving his hand in dismissal. ”Pierre likes his privacy, but the instant Sentinel gets within spitting distance of number one, he'l be back. Trust me.”
And at that moment, a delicate bong echoed throughout the atrium of the Kordez Tha.s.sel auditorium, signaling the imminent start of the Patel Brothers' presentation. Phranc bowed to Jara and gave Robby Robby a comradely clap on the shoulder. Then he vanished along with his understudies.
Jara turned to Robby, who seemed blissful y ignorant of the entire concept of subtext.
”You ready?”
Robby lit up like a sparkler. ”As I'l ever be, Queen Jara!” he crackled.
Standard procedure at an event like this dictated that al multi projections should materialize inside the auditorium and stay there. But this crowd was evidently too smal to bother with such rules. Jara turned to walk through the double doors and was a.s.saulted by a garish bil board advertis.e.m.e.nt across the way.
CHILL GOTYOU DOWN?.
Try Woo/Coat 95 by the Bol iwarTuban Fiefcorp She scowled, and resigned herself to the cold.
Robby and Jara hustled through the crowd and found seats in the upper reaches of the auditorium, where they would be safely anonymous. Fearing another outburst from Robby, Jara covertly masked her lips with one palm in the manner of someone engaged in a ConfidentialWhisper. The channeler left her alone.
So the a.n.a.lyst sat and watched the audience file in. The carnival atmosphere that had plagued the first two MultiReal demos was distinctly absent today. This was an exclusive and drearily dressed gathering of bio/logic professionals: thirteen thousand of them, to be precise, crammed into a s.p.a.ce that could have seated perhaps ten thousand live bodies. The crazies and the zealots were nowhere to be foundunless you counted the devotees of Creed Tha.s.sel, whose members were undoubtedly here under their cloak of secrecy.
And what about the officers of the Defense and Wel ness Council, standing grim and barren of emotion? Jara didn't recognize any of the faces of the officers near her, but that didn't mean she wasn't being watched. After al , the Surina/Natch MultiReal Fiefcorp's big exposition was in seven days. When would Magan Kai Lee make his move? What was he waiting for?
After a few minutes, the lights dimmed and a hush settled on the crowd.