The Peripheral

38

After Dominika phoned Lev to come upstairs, Netherton returned to the doorway, to watch the peripheral doing resistance exercises in the exoskeleton. The muscles of the peripheral’s bare arms and thighs were really very highly defined. He wondered if they’d been printed that way.

Ash was out of his line of sight, having an argument with Ossian, who must be elsewhere. He knew that because he could only hear her side of it, which was in whatever current faux-Slavic iteration of their mutual crypto-language. He went to the closed bar, tried pressing his thumb against the steel oval. Nothing happened.

But now Ash appeared, carrying a large white ceramic vase of flowers past the silently straining peripheral and up the gangway. “You shouldn’t have,” he said, as she reached the top.

“She deserves a welcome,” she said, the pallor of her face contrasting with the bright flowers. “You can’t offer her a drink.”

Netherton felt an unexpected pang of empathy for the not quite graspable construct of Flynne inhabiting the peripheral. She wouldn’t be offered a drink either.

“Water, within hourly limits,” Ash said, mistaking his expression for one of concern for the peripheral. “There’s a dehydration alarm. But no alcohol.” She pushed past him with her flowers.

“When do we expect her?”

“Two hours, now,” said Ash, behind him.

“Two hours?” He turned. Ash was trying the vase of flowers in different positions on his desk.

“Macon’s very good,” she said.

“Make who?”

“Macon. Her printer, in the stub. He’s fast.”

“What sort of name is that?”

“A city. In Georgia. The American Georgia.” She was rearranging the flowers in their vase, a flock of distant beasts stampeding across the back of her left hand. “I’ll be here with you.”

“You will?”

“How long since you’ve used a peripheral?”

“I was ten,” said Netherton. “A homunculi party, on Hampstead Heath. A schoolmate’s birthday.”

“Exactly,” said Ash, swinging to face him, hands on hips. She was in her sincerity suit again. He remembered the stance of the homunculus, on the dashboard of Lev’s car.

“That was you,” he said, “wasn’t it, driving, to and from the other house?”

“Of course. And what will you tell her, when she arrives?”

“About what?”

“What this is,” she said. “Where it is. When it is. Isn’t that what we pay you for?”

“No one’s paying me anything, thank you.”

“Discuss that with Lev,” she said.

“I don’t regard this as a job. I’m here to support Lev.”

“She’ll have no idea what any of this is about. She’s never experienced a peripheral. You scarcely have yourself. All the more reason for me to be here.”

“Lev didn’t tell me she’d be here in two hours.”

“He doesn’t know,” she said. “Ossian only just learned. Lev is upstairs with his lady wife. We’re forbidden to phone him while he’s with her. When we do tell him, he’ll inform Lowbeer. I imagine she’ll advise us then. In the meantime, we’d best decide what to tell her if Lowbeer hasn’t weighed in.”

“Do you know what he’s up to, with Lowbeer? He won’t tell me.”

“Then he isn’t a complete idiot. Yet.”

“But this was her idea, bringing Flynne here, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Why?”

“Whatever it is, she’s in a hurry.” She touched a section of veneer. It opened. She adjusted controls. Netherton felt a slight breeze. “Stuffy,” she said.

“The office is supposed to be in Colombia.”

“They’ve air con in their Colombia, surely. Lowbeer wanted a variety of outfits for both of you. Some of them definitely aren’t for sitting in here. She’ll be seeing London. So will you.”

“She ordered me clothing?”

“Not a bad idea. You’re looking less than professional.”

“When I first spoke with Flynne,” Netherton said, “she thought I might be just another part of the game she’d assumed the job to be.”

“We told her brother that it was a game.”

“It would be better to tell her the truth.”

Ash said nothing. Simply looked at him.

“What are you looking at?”

“I was wondering if you’ve ever said that before,” she said.

“Why try to mislead her? She’s bright. She’ll guess.”

“I’m not sure it would be best, strategically,” Ash said.

“Then give her more money,” he said. “You’ve all the money in their world, or you could have, and you can’t spend it on anything here. Tell her the truth and double the money. We’re her generous future.”

Ash glanced up, and to the left. Trilled something in a synthetic tongue that hadn’t existed a moment before. Looked at him. “Take a shower,” she said. “You look sticky. Your clothes are in the closet to the left, at the very back.”

“Did Lowbeer choose them?”

“I did, from her suggestions.”

Black, he guessed, unless Lowbeer had had something more festive in mind. “I’m starting to feel institutionalized,” he said.

“I know what I’d call that.”

“What?”

“Realism,” she said. “We’ll be needing you for the foreseeable future.”