Part 23 (2/2)
Jara sat back and al owed herself a slight smile. The anonymous ancient Britons on the wal regarded her with approval from beneath their ridiculous epaulets and bra.s.s b.u.t.tons. She stared back at them, wondering who they were.
Only one more day until Margaret's funeral, Jara thought. After that, those drudges wil be gone, and Magan Kai Lee wil be here looking for answers.
This fiefcorp has got to be ready.
The purple bottle had finger-sized grooves that would have been more at home on the grip of a dartgun than on a commercial beverage sold at sporting events.
”Go ahead, squeeze it,” said Petrucio Patel with a mild grin.
Jara eyed the container skeptical y as if it might jump up and bite her. She squeezed, causing the bottle to give way under pressure and coagulate into the jagged lightning-bolt symbol of ChaiQuoke. The cloudy liquid inside bubbled like molten lava.
”Not just flexible gla.s.s,” said Petrucio. ”Ultra flexible gla.s.s. Final y cheap enough to ma.s.s produce. Pretty impressive, eh?”
Jara managed a half-smile. ”Sure, I guess.”
”I tel you, we could al learn a thing or two from those ChaiQuoke marketing people,”
said the programmer. He took the bottle from Jara's hand and began enthusiastical y molding it into a variety of obscure and occasional y obscene shapes. ”They real y know how to invigorate a brand ident.i.ty over there. Xi Xong got a look at their new spring campaign and it's just bril iant, bril iant.”
The a.n.a.lyst nodded, wondering how long she could keep up this pantomime of politeness before she grabbed the ChaiQuoke bottle and started bludgeoning Petrucio over the head with it. Here in this meeting s.p.a.ce within the bowels of the Kordez Tha.s.sel Complex, she couldn't distract herself with the surroundings either. The curved chrome wal s and semireflective table might have been designed by some government task force for unimaginative SeeNaRee. Jara found herself casting sympathetic side glances at the boorish Frederic Patel, who seemed just as exasperated with his brother's prattling but was nowhere near as proficient at hiding it.
”So I suppose you're wondering why we're sitting here,” said Jara final y, when Petrucio's shtick had lurched to a halt.
The Patel brothers gave each other opaque looks across the table. ”Of course,” said Petrucio. ”But I'm not sure I real y want to know, to tel the truth.”
”Funny you should mention truth,” said Jara, inhaling deeply. ”It's truth that brings me out here. Fairness. Justice.”
Petrucio rol ed his eyes. ”So I guess Natch told you that I pledged to Creed Objectivv,”
he said, seeming irritated but not particularly surprised. ”I didn't real y want everybody from here to Furtoid to know about it.”
Jara leaned forward and placed her hands on the table, palms down. ”The Defense and Wel ness Council is trying to destroy our business, 'Trucio.
They're going around intimidating our friends and business partners. We need to take a stand against this. We al doeveryone in the bio/logics industry.
We need to show Len Borda and Magan Kai Lee that they can't just get away with this.”
Frederic chewed his nails apathetical y. Petrucio's face had dissolved back into the normal vacant smile. ”And how dwe al ' do that?” said Petrucio.
”You can do your part,” said Jara, shoring up her foundering courage as best she could, ”by testifying to the Creeds Coalition on Merri's behalf. Help her get reinstated as an Objectivv and clear up this nonsense about her pledging under false pretenses. I don't know what lies the Blade has been spreading around, but-”
”Please, Jara. Please.” The elder Patel vented his frustration with a vigorous tug of his mustache. ”Stop mangling the creed philosophy. It's just painful.
You're almost as bad as him.” He indicated the portly Frederic with a hitch of his thumb, causing Frederic to erupt into a toothy grin. ”The Bodhisattva's definition of truth has nothing to do with fairness or justice. They're entirely different concepts. The Bodhisattva said that truth is as heavy as a club and as sharp as a knife. I pledged to tel the truth, but that doesn't mean I have to go around spreading peace and love. I'm under no obligation to spread truths that negatively impact my business.”
”But we're talking about another Objectivv devotee here,” protested Jara. ”It doesn't bother you that she's been suspended from the creed because of a lie?”
Petrucio shook his head. ”I don't care for Merri. She's too pious. It gets irritating after a while.”
Jara removed her hands from the table, sat back, and rubbed her haunches. Her raised eyebrows asked the question So what does that have to do with anything?
Frederic was thumping his fingers on the tabletop, a mad pianist practicing scales in a discordant key. ”Don't forget, there's two Patels in this fiefcorp,” he said. ”Maybe Merri's suspension from the creed works to our advantage.
Maybe we like seeing your company go under. Ever think of that?”
”In the short term, sure,” replied Jara without missing a beat. ”For the next few months, you'l have al the momentum. But come on, fol ow the logic, Frederic. You don't have to be clairvoyant to see what happens if the Surina/Natch MultiReal Fiefcorp goes under. Len Borda wil sic the Meme Cooperative on you too.”
”Doubt it,” grunted Frederic. ”We got plenty of protection from the Meme Cooperative.”
”But do you have protection against an army with white robes and dartguns?”
The younger Patel's protest withered and died on his lips.
Petrucio gave his bottle of ChaiQuoke a dexterous double-squeeze, causing it to form the shape of an arrow. He held it before him and aimed the tip at Jara's nose. ”So answer me one question,” he said slyly. ”What do you think Natch would do if the tables were turned?”
”For process' preservation,” snapped Jara, her patience a brittle vessel with deepening cracks. ”Do I even need to answer that? He wouldn't help you, not in a mil ion years.” She took a deep breath and decided to just take that perilous leap before she lost her nerve. ”But Natch isn't in charge of the fiefcorp anymore, 'Trucio. I am. Natch has left the company for good. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm not him.”
Neither Patel appeared particularly surprised at Jara's declaration. In fact, something about her statement struck Frederic as humorous. His nose emitted a shril whistle of amus.e.m.e.nt. ”I think I'm starting to like this woman,” he said.
”Good,” said Jara, turning to face the younger, fles.h.i.+er Patel. ”Because I have something to ask you too. I want you to stand up for Horvil in front of the Bio/Logic Engineering Board next week. I want your help clearing his name and getting his credentials restored.”
Frederic seemed much more amenable to this suggestion. ”Now what they did to Horvil, that's a real shame,” he said, chin balanced on one hand.
”Everyone knows Horvil does good work. He was framed, plain and simple. If he wasn't working for that a.s.shole-”
”He's not,” Jara retorted. ”Let me say this one more time. Horvil doesn't work for Natch.
He works for me.” She furrowed her brow and clasped her fingers together on the table, careful not to make it seem like a gesture of supplication.
She fired up Earnest Xpression 35 and dialed it to a low setting.
”Listen. Both of you. I'm not asking you to give up your business. Al I'm asking is that, as a personal favor to me, you go to Melbourne in person and make a couple of quick statements. Merri has integrity; I've never seen her lie, the charges against her are obviously untrue. Horvil's one of the best biol ogic engineers in the business; he was framed. It'l take you a few hours, and I'l pay for the hoverbird fare. We'l both get good publicity out of it.
”Come on, Frederic ... Petrucio ... I don't know what kind of arrangement you made with the Defense and Wel ness Council. But this is a brand-new world. Margaret's gone. Natch is out of the picture. I'm running the Surina/Natch MultiReal Fiefcorp now. It's just our two companies in the MultiReal s.p.a.ce, and we don't have to play by the old rules anymore. Sixty bil ion potential customers. We don't need to go at each other with guns blazing al the time.”
The Patels sat quietly for a few minutes, engaged in an urgent ConfidentialWhisper discussion. Frederic's finger pounding grew in intensity, while Petrucio gripped the ends of his mustache with great ferocity. Final y she could see the two come to some sort of consensus. Jara looked into Petrucio's eyes and tried to pa.r.s.e his thoughts. Was he gearing up to employ the patented pretzel logic of the Creed Objective truthtel er, twisting some minor fabrication until it resembled truth?
”I'm sorry, Jara,” the elder Patel said final y. ”We can't do it.” There was no artifice in his expression; he real y did look sorry, and Frederic did too to a lesser extent.
The a.n.a.lyst summoned her most desperate stare and concentrated on the ChaiQuoke bottle for a moment. ”You don't understand how badly we need this,”
she said.
”I understand,” said Petrucio. ”I'm sympathetic. I real y am. But we can't just do something like this as a personal favor.”
Jara ruminated on this for a minute, her legs twitching with irritation. ”What if I put something else on the table?”
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