Infoquake (33 page)

Serr Vigal settled back into his chaise longue, mumbling something
about how creaky his joints got in erratic gravity and how glad he was
to be back from his latest visit to Patronell for memecorp funding. But
Natch was distracted, not listening. "Tomorrow will be a momentous
day," said the neural programmer, in an effort to catch his protege's
attention.

"Tomorrow, I finally get to find out what this Phoenix Project is,"
said Natch. "It had better be worth all the trouble."

"Margaret still won't tell you?"

"No. I haven't heard a word from her in days. She's totally prived
herself to the world. I can't even get her to sit down with me to iron
out the details of this contract addendum." Natch shook his head
glumly. "I just hope Len Borda gives her the chance to explain herself."

"Why, has he been making more threats?"

The entrepreneur swiveled around and gave his mentor a puzzled
expression. "Threats? Haven't you been paying attention to the news?
Borda's got several legions of Council troops heading for Andra
Pradesh right now. That's not a threat. It's a bloody declaration of war."

A cloud of hoverbirds darkened the sky over Andra Pradesh late
Tuesday afternoon. The troops disembarked in the fields west of the
city instead of at the commercial hoverbird facility, and before long an
army of white was marching towards the Surina compound. Several
thousand Defense and Wellness Council officers moved with perfect
synchronization through the streets of Andra Pradesh. A few curious
vendors hung around to gawk, but most quickly packed up their wares
and fled before the advancing army. The soldiers in white trudged on.
There would be no looting on High Executive Borda's watch.

The Surina security forces stood their ground at the base of the
mountain, looking scared, outgunned and hopelessly outnumbered.
The chief of security positioned himself directly in front of the compound gates, trying to present a model of dignity to the green-andblue troops behind him. The Council had not made such a display of
force in several years, at least not in a connectible city. One would have
to look back to the Melbourne riots during the Economic Plunge to
find an incident of actual large-scale combat.

The Defense and Wellness Council troops reached the base of the
mountain and came to a halt. Their ranks were neatly bisected by the
shadow of the Revelation Spire. Is there any force in the solar system capable
of opposing them? the security chief asked himself.

The legion's commanding officer stepped out from her formation
and strode calmly up to the chief of Surina security. The chief took
stock of the woman's white robe and yellow star, the smock she wore
over her shoulders as a mark of office, the gray boots which seemed
impervious to the monsoon season's mud. Holstered at her right side
was a two-handed dartgun. The Surina security chief wondered what
bio/logic code sat on the tips of those darts, waiting for a fresh blood stream to infiltrate.

The chief's own darts were programmed to kill. With Margaret
Surina's explicit authorization.

"Towards Perfection," announced the Defense and Wellness
Council officer as she flashed a quick hologram of her public profile.
Commander Tanis, it read, 242nd Brigade. Volunteering directory profiles was one of the few meaningless gestures Borda had made to public
relations over the years. "I have been ordered by High Executive Len
Borda to secure the Surina compound and the city of Andra Pradesh."
Her tone of voice indicated that the occupation was a foregone conclusion.

The security chief stayed put. "Please convey our thanks to the
high executive, but Her Eminence the Bodhisattva of Creed Surina
needs no additional protection."

"Nevertheless," replied Tanis icily, "the Council has been charged
by the Creeds Coalition to protect its interests here, and protect them
we will."

This was a new development. The Surina official scratched his bald
pate in puzzlement. "You're here to protect the Creeds Coalition's interests? From what? We are a creed."

Commander Tanis did not hesitate a heartbeat. "Large public gatherings bring a high risk of damage and destruction." Tanis held out her
hand, palm up, and displayed a holographic message in the air. "Bodhisattvas of several major creeds have asked the high executive to protect the common cultural heritage of the creeds here at the Surina compound." The security chief examined the letter, confirmed that it
stated precisely what the Council woman said, and noted dejectedly
that it did indeed bear an authentic signature from the secretary of the
Creeds Coalition. But he nearly erupted with laughter when he saw
what "common cultural heritage" Borda presumed to be protecting.

A representation of Isaac Newton, on permanent loan from Creed
Elan ... A bronzed effigy of Tobi Jae Witt, owned jointly by Creeds Bushido and Dao ... A sculpture of Albert Einstein that Creed Conscientious had lent to the Surinas while their new administrative
facility was under construction.

The scientist statues in the Surina Center for Historic Appreciation.

This couldn't really be happening, could it? Len Borda couldn't be
so brazen as to march into the Surina compound with such a minuscule figleaf of an excuse, could he? The security chief gazed past Tanis
at the row upon row of motionless Council officers, and saw not a
single smile or good-natured smirk. Politics, thought the security chief
bitterly. How many times have I complained to Margaret that she isn't keeping
up good relations with the other creeds? And what did the Council offer those
other bodhisattvas to make them roll over so easily?

The security chief cast a sidelong glance at the inadequate forces
under his command. Inexperienced boys and girls, really. The teeth of
the green-and-blue soldier beside him were chattering uncontrollably.

"Stand down," said the commander of the Surina security forces
with a sigh.

Tanis nodded and signaled her officers to enter the gates. The security chief watched gloomily as the white armada sailed through the
gates and up the path towards the courtyard. None of them, he
noticed, were headed for the Center for Historic Appreciation.

Natch thought he was still enveloped in the haze of multivoid when
his field of vision turned white. Then he realized that his transmission
to Andra Pradesh had gone through after all, and the white glare was
the sun's reflection off a Council officer's steely dartgun.

The main courtyard was crawling with figures in white robes
where Natch had expected blue and green. The few Surina employees
in view were milling about aimlessly, trying to maintain the facade that they were still in charge. Yet the Council troops showed no sign
of interfering. Their only agenda at this point, it appeared, was to
stand with dart-rifles drawn and act menacing. If they intended to stop
people from watching Margaret's presentation, they could do little
from the courtyard; even the thickest Council thug had to know that
standard crowd control procedures for an event like this would confine
all multi projections to inside the auditorium.

Natch scooted quickly along the fence, hoping to make it unnoticed to the Center for Historic Appreciation. But he was not destined
for such luck. Two officers immediately zeroed in and corralled him
into a corner. As they scrutinized him, Natch waited for the officers to
say something-didn't the Council troops in the dramas always say
your identification, please or state your name and business?-but they kept
eerily silent. He supposed they could gather all the information they
needed by feeding his image through the jaws of their vast intelligence
databases. Speech was superfluous.

"There you are," growled a voice. "Leave this one alone. He's with
me."

Two arms brusquely made a path between the Council officers, into
which stepped Margaret's mysterious Islander. His scruffy tunic and
wild ponytail stood out like a scar in a courtyard full of crisp white
uniforms. Natch didn't know whether to feel scared or comforted when
the man put an arm across Natch's chest, like a parent claiming a wayward child.

The larger of the two Council officers eyed the Islander's copper
collar with disdain. "So this is Margaret's Islander," he said, elbowing
his cohort in the side. "Remember the one with the ponytail that came
at us down in Manila? Looked just like this one."

His fellow officer let out a malicious chuckle. "I remember," she
said. "Shot him full of darts. Bastard just kept coming."

"Finally had to crack his skull, right?"

The Islander maintained his composure and did not take the bait. "I'll bet he had a stack of Council officers' corpses lying next to him
when you finally took him down, too."

"Better watch your manners, unconnectible," sneered the Council
man, clearly irritated at the Islander's demeanor. "You're not in the
Pacific anymore. Without this, we could have you begging for mercy
in two minutes." Then he fearlessly reached one hand up and flicked
his finger against the collar.

Before the ping of the vibrating metal had faded away, the Islander
was in motion.

Natch had never seen anyone move so fast. One second, the
Islander was standing at rest; the next, he had zipped around and
placed the offending officer in a chokehold. The second guard reached
for her dartgun in a panic, but it was too late. The Islander had already
lifted her comrade's weapon from its sheath and aimed it squarely at
her forehead. "Ah," he hissed savagely, "but which one of you is going
to take it away from me?"

Within seconds, officers all over the courtyard were scrambling
towards them with weapons drawn. Natch had never actually faced the
barrel of a Defense and Wellness Council dartgun before; now he found
himself facing at least thirty of them. The fact that he was present only
as a multi projection was slight comfort. It became less comforting
still when Natch realized that several of the dartguns pointed at him
were actually multi disruptors.

The Islander shook off the tension with a dismissive snort. He
released the officer from the crook of his arm and shoved him roughly
towards his companions, tossing the dartgun on the ground as an afterthought. Then he flipped his ponytail over one shoulder and parted
another path in the crowd as if nothing had happened. "Well?" he
called to Natch. "Are you coming or not?" The entrepreneur forced his
knocking knees to follow. Scores of Council eyeballs watched in silence
as the two walked briskly through the courtyard and into the Center
for Historic Appreciation. Natch let out a loud breath of relief as soon as the doors closed behind them.

The atrium was empty of visitors, except for two Council guards
standing idly against the wall discussing baseball. Neither gave Natch
or the Islander so much as a glance as they threaded their way between
the scientist statues and headed down one of the corridors.

"Bloody tracking devices," muttered the Islander. "Do they think
we actually want to wear these fucking things?" He reached up with
one hand and tugged at the collar as if about to fling it boomerangstyle down the hallway. Natch noticed for the first time that the collar
was not actually suspended in air, but balanced on the man's neck over
a fine latticework of metallic thread. The contraption looked hideously
uncomfortable.

"Did you say that thing is a tracking device?" asked Natch, struggling to keep up with the Islander's giant strides.

"Of course it's a tracking device. Why else would they make them
so fucking conspicuous? You can see an Islander with a collar from a
kilometer away."

Natch was usually not interested in cross-border politics. But he
had to keep this strange man talking, if only so he might figure out his
relation to Margaret and the Phoenix Project. "But you need those outside the Islands," he said. "How else you going to survive out here
without OCHREs?"

Halfway up a flight of stairs, the Islander stopped dead in his
tracks. "You've got a lot to learn about your governments, boy." He
reached into his pocket with a scowl and dug out a small disc the size
of an ancient coin. "See this little device? You can pin it to your collar,
or wear it on a string around your neck. Made from spare parts, and
you can see multi projections with it, interact with bio/logic code.
Explain that to me."