Rainbows End (38 page)

“We want our floor space!”
“We want our library!”
“And most of all, we want our REAL books!”

The advance was a combination of beauty, surprise, and physical intimidation. The Hacek forces fell back and Huynh’s chirps and salsipueds hustled forward to claim new ground. But Katie Rosenbaum’s critters still outnumbered them and were far more agile. The spider bots raced backwards, keeping a battle zone between the contending human forces.

Smale — > Night Crew: Keep after them!

As Huynh walked forward behind his forklift Mind Sum, he was also looking down from above and tracking the reviews. There were more than a hundred million people watching what the two belief circles had created. Not quite a game, not quite a work of art, this was a contest where you won with imagination and calculation and impudence. So far, the world thought that the two sides were matched as to imagination, but the Scoochis were way ahead on calculation and impudence. They had created real physical destruction — all around and among real humans!

Yard by yard, the battle moved round the library. The Scoochis now occupied parts of the south esplanade, the principal axis of the campus. On the roads around campus, cars were bringing people from all over town, the physical counterpart of the far more numerous virtuals. Forty percent of the backbone routers were saturated. The audience had surged past two hundred million. Hundreds of thousands were players, tricked out with new imagery from the depths of Hacek and Scoochi design. The participants, real and virtual, spread out around the central hub that was the university library. Seen from journalist viewpoints a thousand feet up, the conflict looked like a strange spiral galaxy, its arms glowing the brightest where the battle was the fiercest.

There were others present, invisible but for the reporting of the entertainment-trade journalists: the movie and game people, maybe a hundred thousand professionals. Some watched the watchers, sampling and polling. Others were down in the bottish battles, collecting designs. He could see the spoor of SpielbergRowling, GameHappenings, Rio Magic, and the big Bollywood studios.

Tim Huynh could see more. After all, he was running GenGen equipment. He could see nets that merged with the background, collecting and collecting — then subtly affecting. Those must belong to the Fantasists Guild, the richest artists’ cooperative in the world. (Their motto: “We don’t need no stinking middlemen!”)

And of course the police were here, a half-dozen jurisdictions from campus cops up to the FBI. Greater Scooch-a-mout — > Lesser Scooch-a-mout: Hey, my man! We have ten minutes to win belief and decision. Then they’re going to start shutting us down.

Alfred watched it all from under Pilchner Hall. Rabbit’s riot had emptied the bio labs. The Indo-European inspection equipment was in place, and already sending back results (faked results, but that was Alfred’s doing). The stooges who had installed that equipment were now well away from the GenGen area, off where their eventual arrest would provoke diversionary suspicions. But —

“We need at least fifteen minutes more,” said Alfred. The faked data stream from the investigation would complete sooner than that, but cleaning up and getting out would take additional time.

Rabbit shrugged. “Don’t worry, old fellow. I told Huynh ten minutes just to keep him on his toes. Even after the campus police crack down, you’ll have another half hour before the GenGen crew begins to trickle back underground.”

Mitsuri — > Braun, Vaz: I think Rabbit is right about the timing. His library operation is a masterpiece. We couldn’t have organized a distraction like this without pressing every red button in the Americans’ security apparatus.

Braun — > Mitsuri, Vaz: The riot has grown too large. The traffic still blocked their mobiles. Without sufficient mechs on-site, they hadn’t been able to fully control Pilchner Hall — and two unwelcome children had created the first real problem of the evening. Now one of those children lay unconscious by the caisson, right where Alfred had brought him down.

Vaz glanced at where Rabbit sat on the edge of the pit, its furry feet dangling into the dark. “What about the girl, Rabbit? Right now she is running around in the tunnels, out of control.”

Rabbit smiled broadly. “So call me the lord god of unintended consequences. When things get complicated, there are side effects, and Miri Gu is just one of them.
You’re
the Local Honcho. Why don’t you go after her?”

Braun — > Mitsuri, Vaz: No. That would put you well outside of our contingency plans.

In fact, Alfred was tempted. Instead, he had sent down just one mobile to track the girl. It might be enough to distract her. And if she caught up with the stooges, why then they had another option available, something that should surprise Rabbit. Out loud, Vaz said, “I don’t think so. Do you have any other suggestions?”

“The obvious, old fellow: Be flexible, like me. Who knows what opportunities may develop? You can’t locate Miri Gu, but big deal. That must mean she’s nowhere that interests you and your friends, right?” He waggled his ears inquisitively.

Braun — > Mitsuri, Vaz: I want Mr. Rabbit out of there. He is trying to coopt
us
, and all the time distracting us with his impudence.

And that could be very distracting. Rabbit had started on another carrot. The creature grinned around large incisors as it chomped away, as if to say “Don’t mind me; sming all you please!”

From far beyond the walls, Alfred could hear the sounds of Rabbit’s diversionary riot. Counterforce analysts reported that Homeland Security was watching UCSD with intense interest, but was otherwise calm. Günberk and Keiko took that as good news.
But does that mean Alice Gong is still functioning
? For Alfred, that was the question of the moment, far more important than his run-in with the two children.

In any case, it was time to get the inquisitive rabbit out of here. It had to be done without making Günberk and Keiko suspicious. Fortunately, Günberk was already pushing in the right direction. Braun floated a needs-and-goals matrix into view. The colors were shaded to reflect probability, but it was strikingly pure: for the library riot, Rabbit-critical items glowed bright red, a hundred tasks that only he could do if the diversion were to proceed. For the underground labs, there were a dozen Rabbit-critical items, mainly involving getting the stooges underground, guiding them around, and getting them out of the operational area. And every one of those was some shade of green.

Vaz — > Braun, Mitsuri: Good point, Günberk.

 

Mitsuri — > Braun, Vaz: Okay. Cut Rabbit loose, but gently. I suggest you blame this move on your obnoxious remote colleagues .

Alfred gave Rabbit a smile. “You are right, Mr. Rabbit. Some of us are sadly inflexible.” “Hey, no problem.” Rabbit waved magnanimously.

“In fact, you have made things so safe for us down here, my bosses want you to concentrate on topside operations.”

“What are you doing — Hey!”
Vaz reached down and undipped the fiber-optic line from its scamful bridge.

For a moment the image of the Rabbit was frozen, like some dumb graphic that had lost its remote source. Of course, Rabbit still had its Internet link to here; this pause was a moment of simple astonishment. When it passed, the creature hopped to its feet. “Why did you do that?” Its voice and facial expression were almost without affect. Apparently, Rabbit had never conceived the possibility of having to confront
real
surprise and embarrassment.

The fiber-optic plug dangled loose in Alfred’s hand. It took an effort of will not to flash a gloating smile at the creature. He slipped the line into a transceiver on his belt. What went in and out the fiber would now go through his private milnet.

Braun — > Mitsuri, Vaz: Bravo, Alfred!
Mitsuri -> Braun, Vaz: Be nice! We still need him for the riot.

Rabbit paced along the edge of the hole, its paws waving in a blur that might have been fists. “You are breaking our agreement.” The voice was still flat.

Alfred put on his kindliest expression and spoke without a hint of triumph. “Please, Mr. Rabbit, look at our agreement. We both need the other to profit — and we are each best in our own domain. The equipment is now inserted in the labs. If you will maintain the riot environment for a few more minutes, you will have everything we promised you.”

The Rabbit stared expressionlessly. “You need me down in the labs. Surely…”
He isn’t all-knowing
! “Conceivably. I’ll keep you apprised of our situation. What do you say?”

There was a sudden cascade of expression across Rabbit’s face: anger, then a knowing smile quickly covered up as though the operator had not wanted it seen, then an elaborate, overly patient sigh. Yes, the long-suffering Rabbit. “Ah, paranoia triumphant. Very well, I will bow to your wishes — ” which it did elaborately, dancing on the edge of the pit ” — and retreat to keeping you safe from surface threats.” A flash of unherbivorous teeth: “But I do expect all the agreed payoffs. You know my capabilities.”

“I do. And I realize there may still be complications,”
and attempts by you to create complications
. “One of our people will run liaison with you and your surface ops.”

Vaz — > Braun, Mitsuri: Keiko? Mitsuri — > Braun, Vaz: I’m on it.

Rabbit gave a last flippant wave, and suddenly the little room with the plastic walls and the concrete floor was free of all taint of Rabbit. Alfred shut down the remaining Internet links. Now there was just the pile of old clothes, the handcart, the hole in the middle of the floor… and their one human casualty.

The comforting sounds of mayhem continued to waft down the hill from the library.

Vaz — > Braun: How does the lab data look? The inspection equipment had been transmitting for some minutes now. Were the lies being believed? Could Günberk give up his precious theories?

Braun — > Vaz: They’re seventy percent complete. We have a lot of post-analysis to do, but at first glance these labs look innocent.

 

Yes!

 

Greater Scooch-a-mout — > Lesser Scooch-a-mout: Forward, now, my man! The Hacek bastards are giving way!

And Hacekeans were falling back, at least in the area ahead of Timothy Huynh. He walked his forklift into the gap, crushing what spider bots got in the way. The arc of contention had shifted round till he was almost due south of the library’s main entrance. Here the enemy was in retreat. The Scoochis had more real people on the ground and that meant more backup for the visual effects. But the Hacekeans had perhaps two hundred thousand folk from afar compared with half that many virtual Scoochis. On the far side of the library, on the hill by the loading dock, there was no room for a real human mob. Over there, Hacek — the worldwide belief — was in ascendance. Dangerous Knowledge hung out there, more spectacular than ever, orchestrating a sky show that boomed over the north-side valley. His reinforcements swarmed downward on lances of light.

Tim did his best to follow the big picture, though just now he was very busy stomping on every spider bot that he could lay a foot-platter on. He had seen marvels on both sides tonight, things that their belief circles could feast on for at least the next year. And yet there was still room for a clear win. Tonight Scooch-a-mout could transcend what had been a fringe market and reach the same worldwide big time as the Hacek and the Pratchett and the Bollywood empires. They needed something awesome, something that would put clear sky between them and the Hacekeans. He marched his Mind Sum, his being of mist and steel, back and forth across the front, crushing all that remained of the spider bots. He could think of nothing more spectacular to do.
Damn
.

But there was a world of Scoochis out there, and cleverness to match. Greater Scooch-a-mout — > Lesser Scooch-a-mout: Release the overrides on my forklift. Huynh did so.

The figure of the Greater Scooch-a-mout was motionless for a moment, but in his technician’s view, Huynh could see its power cells charging capacitors well into the burnout range.

And then the Greater Scooch-a-mout sprinted forward like a human athlete and… by God
broad-jumped
thirty feet, to the lawn by the Snake Path. It looked over the north-side valley and shouted down at Dangerous Knowledge in a voice that was both virtual and real. And the real was noise unto pain.

“Hey there! Little Bitty Knowledge! We’re equally matched, don’t you think?” From the valley by the loading dock, Dangerous Knowledge shook his fist at the teetering forklift. “Too equally matched!”

 

“But one of us should clearly win, don’t you think?”

 

“Of course! And that would be meself, as all the world knows.” Dangerous Knowledge waved at its virtual — millions! (But a big part of that count was faked images, Tim could tell.)

“Maybe.” The Greater Scooch-a-mout jumped again, this time to the edge of the drop-off over the loading dock. There was something awesome in the maneuver, knowing the tons of real machine behind it. “But what is this whole conflict about?” It waved its arms, a cheerleader god, and Scoochis screamed with all the amplification they could muster:

“We want our floor space!”
“We want our library!”
“And most of all, we want our REAL books!”

“YES!” said the Scooch-a-mout. “It’s the Library we’re all fighting about. It’s the Library that should decide!”

And with that all the Scoochi sound effects chopped to nothing. An uncertain silence spread across the Scoochis. Sometimes the belief thing got caught in its own metaphors and wound up spouting nonsense. Huynh looked back and forth, gauging the reaction the Greater Scooch had provoked. It sounded good to enlist the library itself, but what did that
mean
?

Down in the north-side valley, there was a flare of laughter. The enemy had come to the same conclusion.
We are screwed
, thought Huynh. But then he noticed that Dangerous Knowledge was not laughing. The creature came partway up the hill, confronted the Greater Scooch-a-mout eye-to-eye. And now there was eerie silence on all sides.