Realms of Light

Chapter Six

I couldn’t believe my own brother had been thatstupid. “What the hell were you thinking, agreeing to that?” Idemanded.

“I was thinking the bonus would be almostenough for my fare off-planet,” he answered instantly.

“Almost enough,” I repeated.

“Yeah, almost,” he said, and I couldsee he was getting angry-partly with me, but partly with himself.“I knew they were keeping it just a little short of what I’d need.IRC isn’t a charity; they want me to stay here until everythingcooks. I figured it would help. I wasn’t going anywhere for awhileanyway, so I’d have time to find the rest somehow. I didn’t know mykid sister was going to show up with a magic carpet to whisk me offto Prometheus.”

“It’s a ship, not a magic carpet, and gettingyou and Dad out of here with it is part of my fee.”

“Your fee? What the hell, Carlie-who agreedto that? Whose ship is it? Since when do you take anything butcredits?”

“When I don’t want the job and the clientneeds to come up with a way to make me take it anyway,” I said. “Away I’m having second thoughts about the more I look at you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help!”

“Neither did Dad. I’m here anyway.”

“You can leave any time, then. I’m stuck hereuntil my contract is up. Come back for me when the sun’s up.”

“The offer isn’t good that long. The clientwants me now, and I wouldn’t work until he got you two outof here.”

“He’s willing to hack off IRC andSixth…Seventh… the dreamtankers to get you?”

“Yes, he is.”

“I hadn’t thought my little sister was asspecial as all that.”

I was getting annoyed, but ’Chan had alwaysbeen able to hack my code, and he was angry enough himself that hedidn’t mind doing it. “Now you know,” I said.

“I know it, fine, but who knows it whodoesn’t mind risking a stay on IRC’s blacklist? You never used tooperate at that level.”

“I told you, I’ve done all right onPrometheus.”

He looked at me, and I could almost see thescreen flash. “You said Sayuri Nakada’s friends and family-you’reworking for one of the Nakadas, aren’t you?”

“None of your business. I’m here to get youoff-planet, not tell you my life story.”

“That’s it, though, isn’t it? And I can guesswhat the case is, and why they aren’t hiring one of the bigfirms.”

That froze me up for half a second. Hecouldn’t possibly know about the rigged dream enhancer, so what didhe think was up? “What are you talking about?”

“Someone hired you to investigate YoshioNakada’s murder, didn’t they?”

I stared at him for a moment, then said, “SoGrandfather Nakada’s been murdered?”

“Of course. Don’t try to tell me you didn’tknow-it must have happened while you were still on Prometheus, andthere’s no way you could have missed it. The family tried to hushit up, but it’s all over the nets. And whoever hired you didn’t goto one of the big firms because they don’t trust them-they knowthose people will switch sides and back the highest bidder if themoney’s big enough, and the killer may be one of the big heirs.You, though-you’re old-fashioned. You stay bought.Especially when they’re paying you with me and Dad.”

“Lovely theory, ’Chan,” I said, but what Iwas thinking was that he’d come closer to the truth than I’dwanted.

And it was… interesting to know thateveryone on Epimetheus thought Grandfather Nakada was dead, thatthe assassination had been successful. I wasn’t sure whether it wasgoing to make my job easier or harder, but it definitely pulled upsome new menus.

One was the possibility that he reallywas dead, and that I’d been hired by an actor-I didn’t thinkit could be a simulation; sims aren’t that convincing. I couldsmell the old man when we spoke, and we shook hands when heleft me on his ship, it wasn’t just image and audio.

Maybe an actor with a good makeover…

But why would anyone bother? And how hadwhoever it was gotten me the run of the old man’s yacht?

No, I’d spoken to the real Yoshio Nakada, andhe’d still been alive when I left Prometheus.

“I notice you aren’t denying it,” hesaid.

“I’m not confirming it, either. I’m trying tofigure out how I’m going to get you out of here-you and Dadboth.”

“You can’t.”

“I’m not convinced.”

“Look, I’m going to have almost enough moneywhen my contract’s up-why don’t you just leave me here untilsunrise, then loan me the difference out of all the fat fees you’recollecting?”

“You know better than that. Once the sun isover the rim of the crater the fare off-planet is going to beeverything you can afford, no matter how much that is. It’ll leaveyou broke. If I try to contribute, it’ll leave mebroke.”

He tried to look as if he didn’t agree withme, but it didn’t work. He shifted aps.

“You can’t get me out, all right? Don’t worryabout it. Do your job. Get Dad out if you really want to, and ifyou can, then go back to your magic spaceship and fly back toAlderstadt. I’ll be fine. I may be broke when I land on Prometheus,but so what?”

“So I’d prefer you to not be.”

“If I break my contract with IRC, I’ll beworse than broke. Come back when it’s run out.”

“I can’t come back.”

“Why not? Make that part of your fee.”

I looked around, wondering just where thecams were, and what software would be processing this scene. Then Iturned back to my brother.

“Break your contract,” I said. “The fine’slimited to a million credits, and I can cover that.”

He stared at me as if I’d been pixelated.“How did you know that, and where would you get a millioncredits?”

“My client.”

“Well, your client must know that whateverthe official fine is, IRC isn’t going to be content with that.”

I couldn’t argue with that-unless ’Chan wasunder someone’s protection, someone like Grandfather Nakada, IRCwas likely to be vindictive. I knew that from first-handexperience.

“Why can’t you just wait for me? What’s therush?”

I wished I knew who or what would bereviewing the recordings of this conversation, but it seemed apretty safe bet that Yoshio Nakada wouldn’t be on the alert list;after all, if ’Chan was right, everyone in Nightside City thoughthe was dead, and the old man himself had said he had no reliablecommunication with anyone on Epimetheus.

“’Chan, I made a deal to get you out as mydown payment. I don’t start the investigation until you and Dad areon Prometheus. You think my client’s willing to wait untilsunrise?”

“So put it on hold! Go ahead and do your job,then come back for me.”

“You really think I’ll be able to findNakada’s killer?”

That stopped him dead.

“Oh,” he said. “I assumed… I mean, Ithought… I always thought you were pretty good at what youdo.”

“I’m not bad,” I said. “But think aboutit-someone went after Yoshio Nakada. You asked me when Istarted working for people who have their own ships, and I tried toclick past it, but you had a good point. I’m a widget. I’m going totry, I’m going to put in an honest effort, but I’m just an ordinarydetective. I can’t hack the universe’s code. Anyone who could getpast Nakada’s security can probably hide her tracks well enoughthat I’ll never find her. My client’s playing a long shot, hiringme. If that long shot comes in, if I find whoever’s behind it, thenwe’re smooth, I get paid and you get a free ride to Prometheus, but’Chan, what if it doesn’t pay off? I can’t ask for a fee I haven’tearned.”

“Well, you could ask,” he saidwryly.

“But I wouldn’t get it. But if I get you offEpimetheus now, that’s my deposit, I can keep that. Getit?”

“I get it,” he acknowledged. “And Iappreciate the try, Carlie, but it’s not going to work. I’m stuckhere. Find Dad, take him back to Prometheus with you, do your job,and if you pull it off you can come back for me, and if you can’t,hey, I’m no worse off than I was an hour ago.”

I sighed. I wasn’t ready to give up, but Ialso saw I wasn’t going to convince ’Chan of anything unless Icould bring something new to the conversation, something I hadn’tthought of yet. “Fine,” I said. “Can you help me find Dad?”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t evenremember the name of the company. I don’t know anything more thanyou.” He glanced at the wall display. “I need to get back towork.”

“When do you get off? In case we want totalk.”

“Midnight. But I’ll probably be too tired todo anything but sleep, and what is there to talk about?”

I grimaced. “Probably nothing,” I said, “butI’m keeping on open mind.”

“You do that, Carlie.” He headed for thedoor. “And see if you can find out who killed Yoshio Nakada. Dothat, and we’re all set.”

“Yeah. I’ll try. Good night, ’Chan.”

Then the door closed behind him and I wasalone in the break room.

I looked at the wall. The hype for SeventhHeaven was still displayed.

“Locate nearest human-operated office forSeventh Heaven,” I said. I thought I’d do better persuading a humanto cooperate than software.

The hype vanished, and a map appeared, withdirections. I snorted.

Seventh Heaven had an office directly underthe Ginza. Very handy for the gamblers whose luck ran out. All Ihad to do was go back up the service corridor and out into thelower level of the casino, then take an elevator down two storiesinto Trap Under and follow the signs. I trotted out the door andheaded for the casino.

When I reached the turn where I didn’t headfor the door I’d come in through, a voice said, “You are notauthorized beyond this point.”

“I’m heading to an office down on B3,” Isaid. “Seventh Heaven Neurosurgery. Nothing to do with IRC or theGinza.” I kept walking.

For an instant, it didn’t reply. Then itsaid, “If you diverge from your announced route, you will beescorted from the premises and risk trespassing charges.”

“I love you, too,” I said. “I won’tdiverge.”

And I wouldn’t. I wasn’t giving up on mybrother, but I wasn’t going to be able to fly him away as easily asI’d hoped. For now, I was going after Dad, and once I had him, Iwould worry about ’Chan.

I told myself I should also look into thisstory that Yoshio Nakada was dead. If I could trace it back to itssource, that might tell me something useful. I didn’t really thinkI could clean out the conspiracy; I’d told ’Chan the truth aboutthat. I was operating far beyond my specs, and I knew it.Grandfather Nakada must have known it, too, but hiring me hadn’tcost him anything he couldn’t easily spare, so why not? Play enoughlong shots, and eventually one of them will come in.

I wondered what other programs the old manwas running. Surely, I wasn’t the only one.

But whether I was the only one or not, I’dbeen hired to do a job, and I was going to do my best to do thatjob.

I wished I had my old office com, in myoffice out on Juarez. It had all the software I’d need to rootthrough half the data on Epimetheus. I’d brought a selection of mybest wares with me from Alderstadt, but that wasn’t the same ashaving the network I’d spent years building up here in NightsideCity.

I swung open the door and stepped out ontothe casino floor, where a flood of sound and color flashed over me.The slap of cards on felt, the buzz and clatter of a hundreddifferent randomizers, and the hum of voices filled the air. So didglittering visual come-ons of every sort, stardust swirls andimages of naked women and flashing holograms of personal cardsshowing million-credit balances, bouncing balls and playing cardsand tropical beaches.

It made me homesick. Oh, Alderstadt andAmerican City had their share of advertising, but it wasn’t thesame as the Trap-Alderstadt closed down at night, and American Cityseemed to do everything in pink and silver. Nightside City had itsown style. I’d had a glimpse of it during the cab ride from theport, but it hadn’t really sunk in the way this view did. Thecasino was like a miniature version of the view of Trap Over I’dhad from my old office.

But I wasn’t allowed to diverge from myroute, so I couldn’t stop and take it in. I couldn’t poke around. Ikept moving.

As I made my way toward the elevator Iwondered what had become of the place on Juarez after I left.

Then I told myself I was being an idiot. Iknew what happened to it-nothing. Juarez was in the burbs west ofthe Trap, and sunlight was already crawling down the western rim ofthe crater that sheltered the city. Most of the west end wasalready abandoned and empty. There was no way my old landlord hadfound another tenant.

I stopped in my tracks as a thought hitme.

There was no way my landlord had foundanother tenant. My old office would be standing empty. Had he evenbothered to change the codes, or clear out my old furniture? Thatcom system I had been missing might still be there. Oh, I’d shut itdown when I left, but I hadn’t taken the time to wipe it properly;there wasn’t much on it I’d cared about enough to make sure it waserased.

That was something I might want to check outwhile I was in town.

Right now, though, I was headed down intoTrap Under to find Seventh Heaven and my father’s still-breathingremains. I started walking again, ignoring the floaters that werestarting to cluster around me, offering free drinks, or a buy-inbonus for the tables, or discounted admission to the privateshows.

The elevator was feeling chatty when Istepped in, but I didn’t listen as it started telling me about allthe delights Nightside City had to offer. “Down,” I said. “LevelB3.”

The doors closed, and once it heard that Iwas headed lower the ads changed mood. “Rough night?” the elevatorasked. “We’ve got options-credit on easy terms, service contracts,a dozen ways to get back in the game.”

“I’m here on private business,” I said. “Shutup.”

“Yes, mis’.” Then it shut up. Some places theelevators would have kept talking, but the Ginza was a classoutfit.

The door opened on a quiet corridor carpetedin a restful shade of blue, with walls that shimmered gently. Adisplay hung in the air, directing me to the Ginza’s financialcenter and personnel offices, an organ broker or two, and SeventhHeaven Neurosurgery. I reached up and tapped that last one, and itturned orange. Orange arrows appeared in the carpet, as well.

I followed the arrows, and found my way to adoor that showed a scene out of some ancient fantasy, with men andwomen wearing wisps of pastel gauze as they cavorted amid whitemarble columns and red and gold tapestries. The name “SeventhHeaven Neurosurgery,” in golden letters, drifted through the skyvisible between the columns.

I walked up to it; the images faded away, andthe door slid open. I stepped through into a sunlit forest glade,and a gentle voice said, “An attendant will be with you shortly. Abench is available to your right.”

Ordinarily I don’t need to be told where theseats are, but the bench was half-hidden by the images, whichcovered every available surface. Knowing where to look saved me asecond or two. I took a seat.

Birds flitted through the trees, green andred and blue amid the golden sunlight and green leaves. It waspretty, but I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it.

“Seems to me it’s bad psychology, doing thewaiting room up like this,” I said to the room. “Doesn’t it remindcustomers that they can live in whatever setting they want withouthaving the whole thing fed straight into their brains?”

“Oh, no,” that soothing voice replied. “Theseare just images. You can’t touch them, or smell them, or tastethem, and your options are limited to what’s already in memory.They’re nowhere near as immersive as the dream experience we offer.A quick sample will demonstrate the difference; just five minutesand you’ll see just how unsatisfying these mere images of coloredlight really are. Shall I set a trial session up for you?”

I shuddered. “No. I’m here on familybusiness, I’m not a customer.”

“I see. Here’s Mis’ Wu to help you.”

A handsome young man appeared, stridingthrough the trees toward me, with a unicorn close on his heels. Hisdeep-gray worksuit looked incongruous in that fantasy setting, so Iwasn’t surprised, when the image skipped slightly as the real Mis’Wu stepped through the projection into the room, to see that he wasreally wearing exactly that suit.

That skip-you’d think they could avoid that,adjust the image on the fly so that it matched the real man. Maybethey just didn’t care about such details; after all, everyone whocame here knew perfectly well these trees weren’t real, thesunlight wasn’t real, the birds and unicorn didn’t exist.

In fact, I wondered whether they left thattiny flaw in there deliberately, just to remind you that thiswas a cheap illusion, and they could sell you a much betterone.

“May I help you?” Mis’ Wu asked, smiling.

I stood up. “I’m looking for Guohan Hsing,” Isaid.

“I’m afraid I don’t recognize the name.”

“Mis’ Hsing is a long-term customer,” theoffice voice said. “He has been with us almost twenty years.”

“Ah, that was before my time,” Mis’ Wusaid.

In most businesses, I’d expect a front-officetype like this to have the complete client specs somewhere in hisown head. For a dreamtank, though, what was the point? Generallyonce someone bought a permanent contract, the only people who hadto worry about her were the techs who maintained the tank and keptthe customer’s body alive. The salespeople didn’t need to know whowas stashed away in back.

At least, ordinarily they didn’t, but here Iwas, looking for my father.

“What’s your interest in Mis’ Hsing?” Wuasked.

“It’s a family matter,” I said. “I’m hisdaughter.”

Wu frowned.

“At the time of his contracting with us, Mis’Hsing had no children on record,” the office said.

I sighed. “He emancipated us,” I said.“Genetically, he has three children.”

“Legally, he has none.”

“This isn’t a legal matter; it’s a familyconcern.”

“Mis’ Wu?” the office said, indicating thatit had reached the limits of its programming.

“A family is a legal entity,” Wu said.

“A family is also a genetic network,”I said.

“What do you want with Guohan Hsing?”

“I want to be sure he’s all right. Certain…genetic issues have arisen.”

“Mis’ Hsing is in perfect health,” the officesaid. “His life chamber is functioning properly in every way.”

“I’m sure it is,” I said, smiling. “But as Isay, we have reasons to be concerned about his continued healththat have nothing to do with Seventh Heaven’s no doubt excellentservice.”

“Are you saying there’s some sort ofhereditary defect involved?” Wu asked.

“There might be, yes.”

“I believe we test our customers for suchthings,” Wu said.

“Indeed we do,” the office agreed.

This was not going as smoothly as I hadhoped. I thought for a moment, looking at Wu’s manly face, thendecided that it might be worth giving the truth a try.

“I’m also concerned,” I said, “about what’sgoing to happen to him once the sun’s above the crater wall, andNightside City gets bathed in hard ultraviolet.”

“Oh,” Wu said. “Well, as you can see, we’resafely below the surface here. We’ll continue our operationsuninterrupted.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Of course! We have contracts.”

“You won’t transfer your clients toPrometheus, or one of the mining colonies?”

“We have no plans to do so. The EtaCassiopeia division of Seventh Heaven is based right here inNightside City, in Trap Under, and we expect to stay.”

“Do you, personally, intend to stay?”I asked.

Wu looked uneasy. “I… haven’t decided,” hesaid.

“I don’t mean any offense, Mis’ Wu, but mybrother and sister and I would feel more comfortable if our fatherwas housed on Prometheus, rather than here in Nightside City. Wewould, of course, be happy to pay the cost of transferringhim.”

Wu’s uneasiness turned to misery. “I’msorry,” he said. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Under the terms of his contract, SeventhHeaven Neurosurgery is Mis’ Hsing’s legal guardian,” he said. “Weare obligated to ensure his safety. We cannot entrust it to anyoneelse.”

“Yes?”

“We’re only on Epimetheus. We can’t take himelsewhere.”

“You don’t have a branch on Prometheus? OrCass II, or out-system?”

“I regret to say we do not. All ourlife chambers are right here in Trap Under.”

Life chambers-who thought up thateuphemism for dreamtanks? “Can’t you transfer guardianship tous?”

“No, Mis’ Hsing, we can’t. Our contracts arevery firm about that; many of our clients are quite insistent onit. The idea of being passed from hand to hand-they find that verydisturbing. Our guardianship is non-transferrable.”

“But we’re his family!”

“Legally, you aren’t.”

“Can’t you wake him up and ask him ifwe can move him to Prometheus? I’m sure we can arrange matters witha company in Alderstadt, and do it in such a way that SeventhHeaven doesn’t lose any credits.”

“The potential liability in a situation likethat-no, we can’t. We can’t wake him without a court order, in anycase, and even if we did, he wouldn’t be legally competent. We havea contract and legal precedents that say as much.”

“I don’t believe this,” I said. “There mustbe some way he can be moved.”

“No, I don’t think there is.”

I stared at him for a moment, and thathandsome face of his seemed much less appealing than it had when hefirst entered.

“Fine,” I said at last. “I’m sure he’ll besafe here with you.”

“I’m sure he will, Mis’ Hsing. Honestly.”

“Could we at least get a tissue sample tocheck for genetic disorders?” I didn’t really have any use for one,so far as I knew, but I thought I might as well maintain my coverstory.

“I think we can do that. Give us forty-eighthours, and we can bring it to you. Where are you staying?”

I grimaced. “Never mind,” I said. “Thank youfor your time.” I turned to go.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t be more help,” hecalled after me as I stepped out of the glade and back into thecorridors of Level B3.

“So am I,” I said.

Because it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to getDad out. It just meant I wasn’t going to do it legally oreasily.