Capacity (18 page)

“Judy. I wouldn’t have believed that you would turn up here in exactly the same outfit. Are you always to be the black-and-white woman? You haven’t grown at all, have you? Do you remember me?”

“Of course I do, Ella,” Judy replied calmly. “And do you feel that you have grown since our meeting? I see Ruby still follows you everywhere.”

Helen looked at the second figure now, hiding behind the first. She might once have been a chocolate woman, but now she was nothing more than a formless lump.

“She can’t speak,” said Ella. “Her mouth was licked away.”

Zinman’s body was reshaping again.

“You know each other?” he said, looking eagerly at the two women as he became normal size.

“Oh, yes,” Ella said. “Judy tried to ‘cure’ me. She didn’t like my promiscuity.”

Zinman laughed. “Really, Judy?”

Judy ignored him. She spoke directly to the chocolate woman. “You’re emotionally stunted, Ella. You see sex as the only form of validation.”

Ella laughed. “What would you know about sex, Judy? You’re a virgin.”

Ella turned to Helen, melting her own chocolate lips as she licked them with a delicious chocolate tongue. “Do you think she thinks that way about you, too?”

Zinman leaned close to Helen. Green eyes on one side, the smell of chocolate on the other.

“Would you like to be a chocolate woman, Helen?” Zinman whispered. “Feel yourself melt inside?”

Helen looked to Judy for support. All she got was that impassive stare.

“But maybe not chocolate,” Zinman said, touching her forehead with fingers that were soft and warm. They tingled ever so slightly. “I like your hair,” he said. “I like the roses. So dark and bloody. And the thorns—so cruel. But why are they so restrained? Here, allow me.”

Helen gave a start as she felt the roses in her hair come to life, the thorns gently scratching her head as they shifted and stirred like the claws of an animal. Then they were reaching down amid a shower of falling rose petals, brushing her shoulders, rubbing against her breasts, encircling her waist. She gave a gasp and then slowly relaxed as she realized what Zinman had done.

“What a good idea,” she said. A reverse viewing field opened up before her, allowing her to see herself wrapped in a corset of rose thorns that grew down from her hair.

“And the last touch…” Zinman said, and Helen’s white shift disappeared. “Do you like it?” he asked.

“I do,” Helen said.

“Mmmm. This is your first visit to Penumbra, isn’t it?”

“Yes, this place didn’t exist in my time.”

“Ah! You’re an antique PC? I thought as much.” Zinman nodded wisely at Judy. “That explains the way she looks at you.”

They both looked at Judy, who continued to gaze patiently at Zinman. He reached out and gently adjusted one of the thorns that hung over Helen’s eyes.

“You’re how long—seventy years—out of time to her?”

Helen nodded, surprised at the accuracy of his guess. He gave a modest shrug of his elongated body, black hair flopping over his eyes. “Nothing is more embarrassing than the attitudes of the past. It’s as if Judy has met her grandmother in a young woman’s body. The way you dress, the way you act; you’re an anachronism. You’re both the same age, yet you’re separated by seventy years.”

Helen didn’t need to ask Judy; she knew what Zinman was saying was the truth. Zinman knew it, too. He pushed home his point.

“You lived before the time of the Transition, Helen. People back then were more open to new ideas. They weren’t locked into that slavish devotion to Social Care that typifies Judy’s generation.”

Helen turned to Judy, waiting for her to say something. Ella came forward, smiling. “Why don’t we do something for you now, Judy?” she asked

Zinman and the two chocolate women surrounded her. Judy placed her hands on her knees and bent her head to concentrate. Zinman gave a laugh.

“Oh, Judy! You’re such a bore! Your pills don’t work in here; no emotion belongs to one person. Everything is shared, even that body of yours.”

He brushed the dark hair from his lurid green eyes. “Come, be like Helen. Join in. Tell me, how should we dress you? I know…in ice. Yes. Ella, Ruby, would you like to lend a hand…”

He laughed and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened.

“Don’t try your tricks with me, Zinman,” Judy said. Zinman wore a puzzled expression as he snapped his fingers again. “That doesn’t work. Now stop wasting my time. Tell me about Kevin.”

“Kevin? That poseur?” Zinman sounded thoughtful. “No, I don’t think I will. You see, although you have a hold on your form, I still control the context.”

There was a rippling and all of the pieces of litter in the courtyard folded over on themselves, folded over to become golden hands. They took hold of Ruby and Ella.

“Oh, Judy,” said Zinman, “your problem is that you live in a world of order, of right and wrong. Here the boundaries are blurred, if they even exist at all.”

“No one’s body is their own here,” Ella said, looking at Ruby, who was melting in the grip of those golden hands. “Do you understand what that means?”

“I think I do,” Helen breathed. The blank windows that surrounded the square stared down at her. Helen had the impression of them being filled by silent watchers.

“I
knew
you would understand,” Zinman said. “Seventy years from the past and yet you understand the future. The EA claims that possessions will be abolished. A lie! How can it say that when, in the end, everyone belongs to the EA? Well, here nothing belongs to anyone.” He raised his eyebrows, and Helen felt something slip up between her legs, something slip deep inside her. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Helen admitted.

“I could take your virtual body and mold it into something wonderful. Anyone could. Nothing in this world is immutable. Do you want to hear the big secret? The one
she
doesn’t want you to know?”

They both looked to Judy, gripped in golden hands.

“There is no reason why the atomic world should not be just as mutable as Penumbra. If the EA wanted to, it could arrange it. Harness the VNMs, set them free to convert all matter in the universe to nanotechs. Wipe out the gross form of the human body and let personality constructs roam free in the foam of a nanotech sea. Just like this.”

The buildings surrounding the courtyard melted away, leaving nothing but golden hands.

“This is the future, Helen,” Zinman said, and now he vanished. The thorn cage that encased Helen’s body became warm; it began to move, to enfold her completely. A voice spoke in her ear. “Imagine that, Helen. Your body there for anyone in this world to use?”

“You’re not paying attention to her, Zinman. That’s not Helen’s fantasy.”

The sound of Judy’s voice broke Helen’s trance. She looked around and saw the dark shape of her friend almost submerged by gripping hands.

“Judy?” Helen said. “I feel…”

Zinman was angry. “What do you know, Judy? What does a virgin know of the pleasure of sharing their body with another? You have divided the universe into yourself and everything else. Even your PC is inviolate.”

Helen frowned. That last sentence was meant for her to hear. Zinman had glanced across at her as he said it.

“Your PC is inviolate? What does that mean, Judy?”

“It means it can’t be copied again, Helen,” snorted Zinman. “Didn’t she tell you? There can only ever be twelve digital Judys? It’s hard-coded into her personality construct.”

“Is that true?”

“Of course,” Judy said calmly. “It is standard practice for all SC operatives in my position. Security.”

Helen felt as if she had been terribly betrayed.

“All that understanding, all those lectures about not hating Peter Onethirteen for what he did to me! I almost believed it. Easy for you to say it when it can’t happen to you, when no one is going to make a copy of you and drop you in a private processing space.”

Zinman had a hand on her shoulder now. “But that’s right. You must have realized, Helen. All Judy ever does is watch.”

“Yes!” Helen shouted. “He’s right, isn’t he, Judy? You never did tell me—why are you a virgin?”

“Pure arrogance,” Zinman scoffed. “To put yourself above everyone else. That’s what Social Care do, isn’t it, Helen? They think they know best.”

The thorns were tighter. They caught Helen’s breasts in an exquisite cage of pinpoints.

Zinman was almost pleading with Helen to understand him. “Hah! How
can
they say what is best for us? They’re simply doing the will of the Watcher, shaping human minds to its own ends. Making us believe in this heaven; this ideal path to the future that it is laying down, but the Watcher’s heaven is a sterile, soulless thing. What is reality for humans, Helen? Is it following the wishes of machines, or doing what we think is best?”

Helen looked from Zinman to Judy. “Doing what we think is best,” she said.

Zinman smiled widely. “I
knew
you’d understand. You lived your life pre-Transition. Your thought patterns haven’t been set out for you. You know, Helen, you don’t have to go back with Judy. You could stay here. Would you like to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Helen said, glancing at Ruby. There was nothing now but chocolate smeared across the golden palms.

“It’s okay,” Ella said. “She can come back anytime she likes. Look.”

And now a body reformed amongst the hands: midnight black and beautiful. A young woman smiled up from the golden grasp.

“Hello, Helen,” she said.

“Is there anything else to this world apart from sex?”

It took them a moment to realize that Judy had spoken, her voice was so muffled by the golden hands.

Zinman laughed. “Oh, yes! It’s just that sex is all you see when you are a virgin. Helen, do you want to see something more? Do you like music?”

“Not really…”

The world swirled.

“Distance is such an outdated concept,” said Zinman.

The world reformed as a golden tapestry of color. Golden cloth surrounded them, clothing them in brocade and tapestries in jeweled patterns of yellow and black and red.

“Klimt,” Ruby said, thrusting her head back and closing her eyes as she knelt down. Zinman placed a hand on her cheek, the other in her hair, and made as if to kiss her.

“Ah!
The Kiss
,” said Ella.

“Mahler,” Zinman said as music surrounded them.
“Veni creator spiritus.”
He gave a smile. “That’s me. Though I prefer the second movement.”

“
Veni creator spiritus.
What does that mean?” asked Helen.

“Any fool could ask their console for a translation. Better that your feelings give meaning to the words. Can you feel it, Helen?”

“I feel something.” Helen smiled.

The music changed. A chorus of voices sang out all around. Zinman joined in.

Alles Vergängliche
Ist nur ein Gleichnis;
Das Unzulängliche,
Hier wird’s Ereignis;
Das Unbeschreibliche,
Hier ist’s getan

“That’s beautiful,” Helen said.

“It is our creed,” Zinman explained, then he turned to Judy, still being held in the grip of golden hands. He gave a nod and they released her. The black-and-white woman stood up calmly, hands sliding into the sleeves of her kimono.

“Good-bye, Judy. You can go now. Helen will be staying here, I think.”

Judy made a show of regaining her customary stillness in the middle of the ever-changing scene. Once she was sure she had made her point, she spoke in her calmest voice: “Very well, Zinman. I’ve just got one question, though, before I leave.”

“Go on then, Judy. Whatever you want.”

Judy stood very straight, her face at its most impassive.

“Actually, it’s more a question for Ella and Ruby. I just wondered, how often does Zinman go underneath?”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Ella said dismissively.

“I’m sorry, I never really understood this sex talk. What I mean is: I’ve seen that Zinman has turned you to chocolate, that he conducts an invisible choir, and that he controls the golden hands. What I wanted to know was, how often does he take his turn in the submissive role?”

“He doesn’t,” Ruby said.

“See,” Zinman said to Helen. “She really doesn’t understand what’s going on here, does she?”

Helen gave a little moan of pleasure.

“I don’t think I do,” Judy said. “I thought that in this world all PCs have a handle on each other. No one of them is more privileged than another. You’ve argued quite eloquently that this is how things should be. I’m trying to square that with the same Zinman who used to rape women in the Private Network.”

Helen blinked once…twice. She seemed to be trying to remember something. Judy remained perfectly still.

“You raped several of Helen’s PCs, for example. You’re a persuasive man. I notice you’re already imposing your will on her, and Helen is a strong personality. I’m impressed.”

Helen shook her head. “Are you doing something to my mind, Zinman?” she murmured, but Judy just continued speaking, softly, remorselessly.

“You see, Zinman, I don’t think you’re strong enough to handle a relationship of equals. You couldn’t hack it in the regular worlds, so you retreated here where you could live out your power games.”

Zinman laughed, but it had a brittle sound this time. “Just because I choose to live my life my own way, and you can’t understand it…”

“Oh, I can understand it, Zinman. I just don’t think very much of it.”

“He raped me, didn’t he?” said Helen. “Or one of me. He’s one of those bastards who—”

Judy ignored her. “So you come to this place and link up with the likes of Ella, who still hasn’t learned any self-worth despite my best efforts, and with Ruby, who—”

Helen didn’t waste time with words; she simply flung herself at Zinman. He vanished.

“Where did he go?” Helen shouted angrily, looking around.

“Right out of Penumbra,” Judy said. “He can’t sustain the fantasy here anymore.”

For the first time since she had come to Penumbra, Judy showed some expression as her face split in a harsh grin.
“Das Ewig-Weibliche ziecht uns hinan.”