Daylight on Iron Mountain (16 page)

And maybe that was the best reason for not accepting the job.

Why, after all, had she called her son Jake? That wasn’t the father’s name. At least, as far as he could work out, it wasn’t. And that comment she’d made about having her heart broken twice. That had to refer to their days together.

That said, she had made it quite explicit that any relationship they’d have would be strictly business. But Jake knew women. They didn’t always mean what they said. And what Alison
meant
to do might not work out in practice. Not if they had to work closely together.

Yes, and what would Mary think of that? Of him working with his ex? The woman he’d almost married.

Against which was the excitement of working for GenSyn. It was genuinely a job to die for, just to be there, once more, at the cutting edge.

He spoke to the air. ‘Hui?’

She answered him immediately. ‘Yes,
Shih
Reed?’

‘Have you a film? Something from the old days. Something by Drew Judd, maybe? The TV version of
Ubik
?’

There was the briefest of delays – a brevity that made Jake ask whether
Hui was quite as human as she claimed – and then she answered.

‘I’m afraid there’s nothing listed under either of those names.’

He sighed.
Nice try, anyway
…

‘Then how about John Wu’s
Red Cliff
…? The uncut version if you have it.’

Something to take my mind off the problem
, he thought.
And what better than Wu’s epic tale
?

A big Chinese historical. Something they couldn’t possibly complain about him watching.

And that, perhaps, was another reason for joining GenSyn. Because today he had seen just how important they were to Tsao Ch’un. How, by being an employee, he might avoid all the constant watching, the constant censorship. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he understood why Alison had been so relaxed. She knew that she wasn’t being watched. It was why she’d been able to refer back to things that had gone. Forbidden things. Like the wine she’d chosen to serve him. At this level one was trusted. And why not? At this level it didn’t matter if you made the odd slip now and then. No one was going to pick you up on it. Because at this level one was sewn tightly into the fabric of Tsao Ch’un’s new world,
owned
by it, body and soul.
Complicit
.

At this level one could look down from giddy heights. As once before.

But did he
want
all of that back, even if he could get it?

‘
Shih
Reed… I am afraid we can only trace the abridged version of the film…’

‘That’s okay. That’ll be fine…’

So only the two-hour version, not the five
…

The room lights dimmed. Up on the screen the ancient city of Ch’ang-an came into view, its watchtowers towering above its mighty walls. Jake smiled and settled back. He would decide in the morning.

A
re you all right in there, Jake?’

Jake looked back at the Chief Tech and nodded. Or tried to. Only the suit wasn’t responding.

‘I’m fine, Kurt, it’s just…’

And then the suit
did
nod.

The whole thing needed fine-tuning. They all knew that. Only the problem was a lot bigger than they had anticipated. Jake knew that was partly to do with him. He was almost fifty now and his brain didn’t function the way it had when he was twenty-six. It had lost a lot of its sharpness. As for his senses, they were a
lot
duller than they’d been.

Which wasn’t to say that it was a
complete
waste of time, only that they might have to lower their expectations. That was, until he could train up a few young bloods and pass on what he knew to someone who could really use that knowledge.

Three months had brought him this far. He had lost over thirty pounds in weight and was fitter than he’d been in over twenty years. Mentally, too, he had worked hard, pushing his brain to the limit to try and get back the edge he’d lost. All in all he had done well. Very well. Only it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t turn back time.

Jake tried to turn his head to see what was going on. He sensed that someone was fiddling with his suit, checking the connections. Only he knew now that that wasn’t the problem. No. He could feel what the problem was. There
was a signal delay. A time lag which meant that he lost immediacy, and immediacy was
everything
inside the datscape. Without it he couldn’t lose himself, couldn’t step between states and tap into his
instinctive
self – adopting that thoughtless, purely reactive state where he had done all his best work.

For a man his age his reactions were pretty damn good. He had surprised himself at how good they were. Only they weren’t good enough.

‘Kurt?’

The Chief Tech looked up. ‘Yes?’

‘Let’s go in. Maybe it’ll improve with use.’

‘Okay.’

They didn’t argue with him. He was the expert, after all. The one who knew about all this stuff. And the team respected that. Only he knew, for all their trust in him, that this wasn’t going to work. Not the way GenSyn wanted it to work. But he was going to try.

Besides, the thought of doing this again made his pulse race. That was what none of them understood. This had always been a high. The biggest fix a man’s senses could take and still be alive afterwards.

Kurt stopped fiddling. He stepped back, letting his two assistants take over.

‘All right… let’s get Jake out on the rail. We linked in at the desk?’

‘Linked and ready!’

‘You ready, Jake?’

Ready as I’ll ever be
. Aloud he just said, ‘Ready!’

‘Okay… start the feed.’

Jake braced himself. This was always the point where the rush hit him; where the whole thing exploded on his skin. Only this time it didn’t. All he felt was a kind of disjuncture; a sharp jolt as his surroundings vanished and the datscape appeared all around him.

What the…?

He tried to look about him, tried to turn full circle and take it all in, only the data lapse was worse here inside than it had been outside. Instead of the smooth, even flow of movement, he found himself moving slowly, jerkily, like he was some poorly realized avatar on a damaged disc. And when he spoke…

‘K-k-urhh-t-t…’

‘What’s up, Jake? You don’t look happy.’

No. And he didn’t feel happy, either. This wasn’t good.

He kept still, studying the slice of virtual reality that lay directly ahead of him.

Christ! Look at this stuff
…

He knew what was wrong instantly. It lacked depth, lacked the power of the original datscape. The datscape he remembered had been information rich. Its sheer detail had bombarded the senses. This, on the other hand…

It’s a first attempt
, he reminded himself.
No one knows yet how to use it. How to replicate it. Give them time and it’ll be a lot better.

Maybe so. But he was disappointed. He had expected much better than this. GenSyn weren’t second rate after all…

He spoke again, this time clearly, no stutter or echo in the words.

‘Kurt… It’s not working… the datscape…’

‘What about it?’

‘How many spinners have we got feeding in?’

He could hear Kurt consult. Then, ‘A dozen. And another dozen or so channels on auto-feed.’

No wonder
…

Jake tried to make a step, counted a full five before the suit responded.

Worse in here than outside. Now why’s that?

‘Kurt?’

‘Yes?’

‘Have we got no one who worked on the original? Technicians, I mean…’

‘Not a single one. You’re it, Jake. The last vestige of this old technology.’

Then we’re fucked, because I only know how to use it, not how to get it up and running.

‘You know what I think?’

‘What’s that?’

‘I think we need more spinners. At least ten times as many. And this suit… It’s getting slower and slower.’

And for once that isn’t me
…

‘Well, we’ve followed all the manuals… it
ought
to be working…’

Maybe. But it isn’t.

He turned to his left and waited. A moment later – a four count this time – the suit turned with him.

‘I don’t understand this,’ he said. ‘There’s no reason why it should be so slow. A fraction of a second maybe… and even that would be critical, but four, five seconds? Something’s not connected.’

‘Everything’s connected, Jake. Exactly as it was in the manuals.’

‘Then maybe the manuals are wrong. Where did you get them?’

Again there was the sound of distant voices as they consulted, then Kurt’s voice filled his head. ‘We’re looking into that.’ Kurt sighed. ‘You want to come out or stay in a bit longer?’

Jake considered that. Was there any point in staying in? If they’d set the datscape up wrongly…

It wasn’t the colour or the shape of things, he realized suddenly. It was the smell. This virtual landscape had no smell to it, whereas the original…

‘This isn’t right,’ he said. ‘Where’s the olfactory feed?’

Kurt answered him at once. ‘There isn’t one. We didn’t think it necessary. Gustav wanted to simplify, so—’

‘
Gustav?
’

‘Yes, he didn’t think—’

‘You don’t think chemical reactions
smell
?’

‘Well, maybe, only—’

‘Only what?’ Jake was getting angry now. He had begun the day afraid that he was going to fuck up. ‘Gods, Kurt, is there no real understanding of what this is? This isn’t just a toy, a computer simulation. It’s an RR, a reality replicant. Everything has to be there in the mix, whether it seems pertinent or not. Because, if you’re going to work these simulations properly, then you can’t leave any factors out. Stripping down isn’t the answer. It doesn’t make things more efficient. Not one tiny bit. What it does is falsify things. Look, if we’re going to use this technology, we need it to be perfectly mapped – one-to-one. And this fucking suit! For fuck’s sake… ! Have we
no one
in the company who can do something about it?’

There was a moment’s embarrassed silence at what he’d said, and then Kurt chuckled. ‘Okay, Jake… we hear you… loud and clear…’

‘Good. Because I’m done here for now. Get Alison on the line, will you? I need to speak to her, right away.’

‘Whatever you say, Jake. Whatever you say.’

*

Mary found her stepson, Peter, out on the patio, drinking
ch’a
and watching the news on the big screen that hung from the end rail.

‘What’s this, another victory?’

Peter turned to her and smiled. ‘Yeah… It broke late last night. I’d have woken you, only…’

Mary smiled. Tom was teething and she wasn’t getting much sleep, so they were all under orders not to wake her unless for something urgent.

She went across and sat, taking in the scene on the screen. ‘So where’s this?’

‘Richmond… it’s the surrender ceremony. Look, there’s Marshal Jiang.’

Jiang Lei stood there, tall and regal, resplendent in his marshal’s uniform, at the top of the steps of the world-famous Jefferson Hotel. He had made it his campaign quarters.

‘And those others, with the bared heads?’

‘They’re the conquered generals. He took eighty-six of them this time. Surrounded them at Greenville, just outside of Dallas, and made them kneel to him. Right now they’re surrendering their colours.’

Mary nodded, then put her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. She had been following the campaign only vaguely.

‘So it’s the Kingdom of Texas who’ve surrendered?’

‘And the Little Rock Enclave. They’d joined forces at the end. Both capitulated at the same time.’

‘Ah…’

The camera closed in on Marshal Jiang, as the first of the Americans’ colours began to be carried up the steps to be laid before him. As ever, he seemed to epitomize all that was admirable about the Han. Looking at him, one saw how, in his singular person, he was the very image of Chung Kuo: the archetypal Confucian scholar-warrior. The light to Tsao Ch’un’s dark. Though that would never be said aloud.

‘It’s strange, isn’t it?’

‘What’s that, Ma?’

‘Seeing that man. Who would have thought…?’

It was true. Marshal Jiang had become the second most famous man on the planet, and not for his poetry, though sales of that were in their millions now.

The camera focused on his face, so calm and dignified. It had become
a familiar sight on their screens these past three months as kingdom after kingdom had fallen to him. Disregarding today’s victories, he had conquered all of the land between the Eastern Seaboard and the Mississippi River. All, that was, apart from Washington.

Mary looked down. That made no sense to her. Why couldn’t they just go in and end the siege? That’s what they did elsewhere, so why not Washington? She’d heard the arguments, of course – that the rebel armies would not have joined with them had he made his headquarters in Washington. How, by basing himself in Richmond, he had touched upon old enmities and won himself a dozen banners from the old Confederate states. She was sure that was so, only why maintain the pretence that Washington was holding out of its own accord? What purpose did it serve?