Manifestations (40 page)

‘Thank you, Bobby. I can see you’ll be a great help to us,’ Sal said.

‘Doctor, can you tell me what it is like here?’

‘Things aren’t so different as in the union. The only thing to remember here, is that there are far fewer people with any influence. Otherwise things run the same.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Freya said.

‘You’ll pick it up quick.’

‘And what about the rebellion? Will there be a war?’ Bobby asked.

‘We are hoping not to start one. At the moment the groups are sticking together. The Philly group has claimed that area for kinetics. That’s Bendertown if you hear anyone say it.’

‘That’s where Desh went?’

‘Yes.’

‘Will my husband have to go as well?’ she asked.

‘Chiggy may insist.’

‘Will Desh be ... you know, okay?’

‘I can’t say.’

‘You’ve been there, then? Chiggy’s Arena?’ Bobby asked.

‘Yes ...’

‘Please, Doctor Salvator ...’ She touched his arm. Freya saw all she needed to see of Bendertown. The doctor’s strongest memory was of the cheering crowd of benders and norms. The rising roar as he stepped into the stadium. He had gone there to bargain for help, to save her family ...

Freya pulled her hand away. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.’

‘I’m getting used to it,’ he mumbled.

‘No, really, I should have asked. Tell me what I can do to help.’

Salvator turned to her. ‘We expect more runners will come. We weren’t ready for your family, but if you could help us prepare for more arrivals that would be extremely useful.’

‘You mean, this building?’ Sal nodded. ‘Just us?’

‘We can spare you some children with abilities. Everyone else has duties assigned.’

‘I can play nanny as well? That’s great.’

‘Mum, stop it. Of course we will help, Doctor,’ Bobby said.
We’re here now, Mum. We have to make it work.

‘Thank you, Bobby,’ the doctor said. ‘Now, I’ll go. I’ll come by tomorrow to see how you’re getting on.’

~ * ~

As the floors seemed less sound the higher they went, they chose the first floor to live in. It was no surprise to find the penthouse had no roof and was a garden of weeds growing in a compost of guano and bird droppings.

There were still boards on the windows when they’d been shown in. Ben removed them and fashioned a coffee table.

There was less tech here than where they had come from. There wasn’t running water or electricity and there certainly wasn’t any sort of Weave to connect to.

Why did we ever leave the bots behind?
Freya asked herself. They had never had to clean back in West. There was nothing to eat here and the water came in plastic casks that she had to carry upstairs herself because the kinetics were off helping Tamsin Grey.

Freya really didn’t like the way the rebel leader had commandeered her husband. ‘You’re an engineer,’ she’d said. Ben nodded because he was. ‘Come with me.’ Ben had gone. Spellbound.

And she, Bobby and Molly had been left in a filthy building — with no light, nowhere to sit, full of decrepit old junk, with no food or water — until nightfall when Ben had finally made it home, exhausted.

Bobby spent a lot of his time out. He didn’t seem to mind it as much as her. He accompanied Tamsin Grey and Okonta as they made tours of the city on the lookout for psis and norms who would agree to help them.

Every day she tried to clear out one room. By the end of the first week Freya had piled the rubbish out on the pavement and was on her hands and knees with a brush and rags, trying to use as little water as possible to clean the floors and walls.

Some children arrived, four including Piri, and she had to create games and rewards around rubbish removal or collecting water to keep them from underfoot — but she was the only one on all fours trying to get the muck off the floors, wasn’t she?

None of them were kinetics, only Molly helped by pushing the heavy water casks up the stairs to where they needed them.

Freya watched Molly screw up her face and give it her all. The cask scraped forward another centimetre while Piri, Tamsin Grey’s adopted daughter, sat atop shaking her two dolls in excitement.

She saw Sal every day. When they met they said hello and he held out his hand for her to touch, letting her access his mind for what had happened since the day before and if there was anything he needed her to do.

When he found out they had begun clearing the ground floor he arranged deliveries to be made and the room was quickly filled with boxes of goods.

He gave her a handscreen and asked her to catalogue what was delivered and what was taken away.

‘Quartermaster and nanny? Lucky me,’ she said.

‘Just until there is somebody else.’ He shrugged. ‘But look,’ he said, pointing at the screen. ‘We have a network set up. Only three poles, but it’s a start.’

This was exciting news. Now she could contact Ben and know where he was. A small taste of civilisation.

Freya didn’t argue. Not in front of Bobby. She didn’t want him to tell her again that it was all for the cause. In West she had been a meme editor, on her way to becoming a mogul.

She missed her job. She missed her friends. She missed her clothes. She even missed the ugly old ziggurats they lived in. Ben insisted they were a fabulously efficient design and she knew he was thinking of building them in Atlantic.

Each day Ben came home filthy. He didn’t need to tell her about his day, he just stared into her eyes as she lightly touched his arm. He’d been underground since dawn, coordinating the foundations and surveying the area to see how to get everything to connect up.

Like Bobby, he was caught up in the rebel cause and he’d already been telling Salvator how they could refurbish the zone and get it up to WU standard.

Molly slowly pushed full casks of water along the corridor.

After two weeks there was still no word from Desh. ‘I’m getting worried, Ben.’

‘Me too, Frey.’

‘What should we do? Surely someone knows something.’

‘I’ve asked,’ he said angrily. Ben didn’t know what to do. He was trying not to think about it and picked up his handscreen to go through his queue. He had over a thousand tasks in his list.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m just coping, okay.’

‘We all are, Frey.’

‘I know, it’s just ...’ She bit her lip. ‘If you love me at all, please, please fix the toilets.’

~ * ~

Suspicion crept through Geof like a wet creature. Desperate, icy claws prying into every crack of his mind. Everything he knew became doubted. His stomach felt empty and ill, scratched raw with misgivings and questions. Too much was happening at once.

‘You need to eat, Geof,’ Egon said. ‘It’s been a long week.’

He nodded.
Yes,
he agreed to himself.
A long week of failures.

‘You’re probably right.’ He acceded and ordered five trays sent to his room. Geof ate distractedly and flicked through the data he’d amassed, then lay back into the chaise and immersed. ‘I’ll be better in a minute.’

But he wasn’t. The crawling suspicion prowled through him until it took root behind his eyes. Was it trying to tell him something? Was it a subconscious reaction? Was it telling him there was something that he had seen but hadn’t registered? Was that what it wanted?

The attack on the Busan Kronos was a disaster. Compounded by the seed — or egg, as Egon called it — that washed up in Hokkaido, and the botched collection of Risom Cawthorne, and the ever-present thought that the Kronoses were all inching towards him, Geof felt a dread in himself that he was unfamiliar with.

He flimmed through the Weave coverage of the incidents. He had seen something that was important, Geof just couldn’t put his finger on the answer. The convocation was still roiling and Services was holding over any major actions until the hierarchy had stabilised. Ryu’s status was quickly diminishing, benefitting two factions directly: Charlotte Betts and Colonel Pinter.

Pinter was on record opposing the attack on Kronos. This fact alone began tipping the scales. Confidence in the Prime was shaken by these recent failures in his strategy.

Geof sat in his room watching the indicators rise and fall. He vicariously patrolled the perimeter of the Cape and Busan in his last cycle. But he hadn’t moved his body in all that time.

His retrospection became tiring and he went to the exercise level of the building to run some circuits and take a swim in the tepid pool. He put in his vote for the water to be colder, but for now had to settle with a cooling shower. He ordered a couple more trays to his room; he needed something sweet.

Egon was still at work when he returned. Kronos had absorbed him in a different way.

‘At least they didn’t kill it,’ Egon Shelley said.

‘What?’

‘Kronos. I’m relieved that Services didn’t succeed in destroying it.’

‘You think that it is alive then?’

‘In a sense.’

‘It was convincing when I spoke with it,’ Geof said. ‘It can communicate. It has desires like we do.’

‘You spoke with a program.’

‘Kronos has a distinct body and mind. That it is synthetic and man-made makes it no less sentient than ourselves.’

‘It is good to see the dream of AI alive and well in you, Geof. But it doesn’t change that its desires, as you call them, are in conflict with our own. We still have to find a way to stop it.’

‘I don’t think all the weapons in the world can stop them now. The Mexica Kronos is ten times the size of Busan.’

‘I disagree,’ Egon said. He straightened up from the scopes and rolled his arms and neck around. ‘When you spoke with it in the subnet, I realised that the main communication problem seemed to be that it didn’t understand the nature of its own existence.’

‘And?’ Geof asked.

‘Kronos doesn’t have walls like we do. It doesn’t understand limitations.’

‘I think we have all noticed that.’

‘Ah yes, but think it through. If Kronos doesn’t understand limitations, it might not even know it is expanding; on the Weave or in the physical world. It is entropic in this way.’

‘But what do we do about it?’ Geof asked.

‘Reprogram.’

‘Change its core behaviour? You can’t do that once a symbiot is made.’

‘Why not?’

‘It just hasn’t been done before.’

Egon clapped and smiled with delight. ‘Those words are music to my ears.’

Geof smiled too. ‘Why do you want to save it so badly?’ he asked him.

‘That’s easy. If it is a new life-form, then it is a miracle, but if it is also holding the minds of the people it has consumed ... then it is something else again.’

‘All we have to do is stop it expanding and then convince the world to leave it alone.’

‘That’s all.’

Geof fell silent.

Egon surreptitiously returned to his work. Geof put the feed of the scopes into his overlay and sat staring at the sample, a black leech attacking the nose of the scope.

‘Doctor Shelley —’

‘Egon is fine now, don’t you think, Geof?’

‘Okay. Egon, do you know if Shen Li and Morritz Kay had much contact?’

Egon laughed and bumped his face on the multiscope. ‘Not since the interview, I’m sure.’

‘What interview?’

‘You haven’t seen it? It’s most amusing, especially when you know both the parties. Here.’ Egon opened a link that replayed a recording of a panel discussion in 2115. Shen Li and Morritz Kay were being questioned about their respective inventions and Morritz was getting angrier and angrier until he took off his moccasins and began beating the other man with them. The film crew were too stunned to stop it.

Geof found it somewhat amusing. He hadn’t known his sensei before he retired from public life.

‘Morritz is a ... difficult man, isn’t he?’

‘Oh yes. As much as any other. Once you wait out his initial hostility he becomes nearly normal.’

‘Why does he seem to hate Shen so much?’ Geof asked.

‘Morritz doesn’t like symbiots,’ Egon said offhandedly.

‘And that’s enough. What’s his reasoning?’

‘I’m not sure he has one. It’s either an instinct or he hates them for making his charm-tech seem like it was from pre-rec. Shen did make his research obsolete overnight.’ Egon laughed. ‘He’s a good scientist though.’

‘So it’s unlikely they worked together?’ Geof asked.

‘Extremely. Very extremely highly unlikely. Why?’

‘I don’t want to say yet.’ In the background Geof set the chaise to search for any other records, visual or otherwise, of the bauble he had seen Shen making and Morritz Kay wearing.

‘As you wish.’

~ * ~

While he mopped up the last of the sauce, Geof was double-pinged from two anonymous addresses. For weavers this was like a knock on the door.

Geof ducked into immersion and traced the connections as they fell short, fading away like water in the sun. Pointing anywhere and nowhere.