Speculative sullivan the.., p.80
Speculative Sullivan: The Collected Short Fiction, page 80
“Yes, I guessed you must be a projection when you didn’t shake my hand. But how do you know I didn’t come to steal?”
“I don’t, but I know your identity, I know you’re unarmed, and I assume you’re probably smart enough to know you’d never make it down to the ground floor if you took something.”
“Can I assume that the real you is talking to me?”
“You can.”
“And you are interested in what I have to sell?”
“I might be.”
“So this is business as usual for you.”
“Not exactly.”
“Nobody’s ever offered you a Nambu egg before?”
“No.”
“You know what it’s worth?”
“I have a rough idea.”
“Then you don’t really need to know anything except that I’m selling it.”
“Are you stating conditions for the sale?”
“No, I just want to unload it as fast as I can.”
“That’s understandable. Possession of something as rare as a Nambu egg is risky.”
“Then we can make a deal?”
“Yes, I think we can.” Genzler smiled, showing even, white teeth.
“There’s no nonsense with you, is there?” Naraya said. “I’m beginning to understand how you made your fortune.”
“My fortune, as you call it, is of secondary importance, at best.”
“And what is of primary importance, Mr. Genzler?”
Genzler stared at him without speaking.
“I mean, you’ve amassed a huge amount of wealth,” Naraya persisted, gesturing at his surroundings, “for a man who doesn’t consider money all that important.”
“Mr. Naraya,” Genzler said, “we’re straying from the point.”
“Are we?”
Another cool stare, but this time Genzler asked a question. “I wonder if you have more on your mind than a business transaction?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“And what is that, if I may ask?”
“Research.”
“What are you researching?”
“Two crimes.”
Genzler gave away nothing, not even the slightest twitch. “For what purpose?”
“I’m compiling a case history.”
“A case history?”
“Do you want to know what it’s about?”
“I’m listening.”
“One of the crimes was embezzlement, but that’s the lesser offense.”
“Indeed?” He had Genzler’s full attention. “Embezzlement is quite serious.”
“It’s nothing compared to the other crime, which resulted from it.”
“And that crime is?”
“I’d call it murder.”
Genzler leaned back in his chair. “What does this have to do with the Nambu egg?”
“You’ll see.”
“You intrigue me, Mr. Naraya,” Genzler said. “I have a feeling that you’ll want to complete our transaction in person. Am I right?”
“That’s up to you.” Naraya was careful not to appear too eager. “I can tell you where the egg is, but not before I get what I came for.”
Naraya knew immediately that he shouldn’t have put it in those words.
“And what did you come for?” Genzler asked.
“Money, of course.”
“Well, if you really have a Nambu egg to sell, you’ll acquire a great deal of it.”
Naraya looked at the projection’s eyes, wondering what Genzler was thinking. Was the plan working? He would just have to keep going and see what happened.
“How do you propose we manage the transaction?” Genzler asked.
“Simple. You get me the cash, and I give you the egg.”
“What assurance do I have that there really is an egg?”
“I just came from the only place where they’re produced, didn’t I?”
“And you think that’s enough to convince me?”
“Yes, because I know you’ve been waiting a long time for an opportunity like this.”
“Let’s suppose you are right about that,” Genzler said. “What’s to stop me from having you interrogated to find out where the egg is?”
“It won’t do you any good.”
“And why not?”
“I’ve had a block installed.”
“But that must have been before you re-assimulated.”
“It won’t matter,” Naraya said, trying to sound more confident than he really was. “The block was reintegrated when my nervous system was reconstructed.”
“I could have you worked over thoroughly, just to make sure.”
“Go ahead, then, if it’ll make you feel better.”
“The search might delay your trip back.”
“Delay it? How?”
“It might take you some time to recover.”
Naraya knew how to handle threats. “Cet Four will still be there.”
“Yes, I suppose it will,” Genzler said, switching to another tack. “What made you go to Cet in the first place, if I may ask?”
“I didn’t have much luck here.”
“Why not?”
“Poverty.”
“Poverty can be overcome.”
“Can it?”
“If I may be immodest, let me say that I managed it.”
“Not everyone has your drive.”
“You flatter me.”
“Not really. You couldn’t have made it this big without intense focus and ambition.”
“Has my ambition been satisfied, in your estimation?”
“How would I know?” But Naraya was certain that Genzler’s ambition could never be satisfied.
“Well, then, unless you feel compelled to offer further analysis, shall we get down to business?”
“Sounds good.”
“If I find your requested amount reasonable, I’ll have the money sent to the credit exchange on Cet, so that it will arrive before you.”
“Before?”
“You’ll be required to stay here until I’ve had the egg evaluated. If it is genuine, you will re-assimulate back to Cet and the money will be waiting for you.”
“How can I be sure of that?”
“You may observe the entire operation on this end.”
“And how do you prevent me from getting the money if you’re not happy?”
“Not happy? You mean if you trick me somehow? Not likely.”
“But what happens in that event?”
“There will be a hold on the receiving end. I can have payment stopped.”
“Slick.”
“A normal precaution, I assure you.”
“How do I know you won’t put a stop on it even if I keep my part of the bargain?”
“Name your witness.”
“Witness? Everyone I know is either long dead or living on Cet Four.”
“I understand, but these days there are agencies that hire out certified representatives to witness such transactions.”
“I don’t have time to research it.”
“It won’t take you any time at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m quite certain the TA has given you the information already.”
The voice couldn’t comment, but he knew that Genzler wasn’t lying to him. He could tell by the vaguely realized facts drifting through his mind. If he concentrated on them, they bobbed to the surface. He would have his witness if he wanted one, just as Genzler claimed. It wouldn’t affect the plan one way or the other.
“Witness agencies are bonded,” Genzler added. “I have no influence over them. It’s required by law that re-assimulants be given the tools needed to survive.”
“For two weeks.”
“That’s the law.”
“All right, I’ll get a witness and we’ll make sure you send the money to the credit exchange on Cet Four.”
“And then?”
“And then I’ll tell you where the egg is and I’ll be on my way.”
“Not before I have it in my hands.”
“So to speak.”
“Very well, then. Do you have any more questions?”
“Not right now.”
“Shall we dance?”
“You lead.”
“Take that door to your right,” Genzler said.
Naraya rose, stretched, and walked to the door. It opened to admit him and he went through. There was a corridor on the other side, and lights blinked on serially to guide him as he walked its length, turned a corner to his left, and made his way along another corridor. Naraya couldn’t help imagining that he was on his way to an execution.
At the end of the corridor a door opened for him and he stepped into a luxurious office. Its air was pleasantly scented. Hamid Genzler sat behind a desk. High windows revealed the crumbling city in all its splendid misery.
“This is the real you?” Naraya asked.
“The real me, all by myself.”
“But help is close at hand?” Such as Genzler’s brain linked to his security system.
“Of course, and I assure you my security is swift and deadly.”
“Neuro-security is usually the most potent.”
“Usually.”
“Quite an office.”
“Thank you,” Genzler said. “This is the hub of my operations, Mr. Naraya.”
“You can reach any place on Earth from here?”
“More than that, anywhere in the solar system.” Genzler snapped his fingers. “Even out to Cet, given time.”
“That’s real power.”
“I thought you’d appreciate it,” Genzler said. “Please have a seat.”
Naraya sat looking up at Genzler, whose desk was on a riser. With the windows behind him, it was as if Genzler floated above the world.
“You’ve got people working for you just about everywhere, eh, Mr. Genzler?”
“Yes.”
“And arrangements with local officials to smooth things over?”
Genzler gazed at him without speaking.
“I lead a much simpler life,” Naraya said.
“I often wish that I did.”
“Hard to believe.”
Genzler sighed. “Mr. Naraya, at times it appears that you have come here to prod me rather than to do business.”
“That’s fair to say.”
“Why?”
“I’m naturally curious.”
“It’s in your nature to pry?”
“I prefer to think of it as studying character.”
“Ah, yes. Your case history.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t see how you can gather much information by staying on Earth for just a few hours.”
“I think I’ll learn all I need to know.”
“The crimes you spoke of . . . did they happen very long ago?”
“Quite some time ago, yeah.”
“When you lived here on your home planet?”
“Let’s get something straight, Mr. Genzler,” Naraya said. “My home planet isn’t Earth anymore, it’s Cet Four.”
“Your life on Earth was that bad?”
“I left, didn’t I?”
“I empathize. My early life was difficult, too.”
“Was it?”
“I thought of fleeing to Cet when I was a much younger man.”
“Fleeing?”
“Does that word offend you, Mr. Naraya?”
“Lighting out for the territory is how most of us look at it.”
“Yes, of course you would,” Genzler said. “You’re all pioneers.”
“Why did you stay?” Naraya asked, ignoring the sarcasm.
“A windfall made it possible for me to keep going.”
“Without that windfall, your life would have been different?”
“No doubt.”
“You were lucky.”
“I persevered.”
Naraya found that amusing. “Life on Cet takes a lot more perseverance, you know.”
“Heavier gravity, I understand.”
“Slightly.”
“It makes people strong.”
“If they can take it.”
“Harsh conditions are apparently good for people,” Genzler said. “You look very healthy and powerful, Mr. Naraya.”
“I survived.”
“What sort of work do you do?”
“I’m a civil servant.”
“Well, that should make it easy for you to collect your money from the credit exchange.”
“It should.”
“Do you have family?”
“No.”
“Perhaps you can start one when you get back, with your newly acquired wealth . . . should we come to an agreement.”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Aren’t families subsidized on Cet, in an effort to increase the population?”
“Yes, they are.”
“How are those indigenous creatures reacting to the flood of humans?”
“Competition with the natives is discouraging to some, but we’re making steady progress. In fact, some of them are working with us.”
“From what I’ve heard, they are very different from humans.”
“Yeah, they look pretty messy to us.”
“Do they really grow temporary limbs?”
“Yeah.”
“That must be disconcerting—that and their notorious odor.”
“Once you get used to the smell, it’s okay. They have skills we don’t have.”
“Even with communications so spotty, we do hear good things about Cet,” Genzler said.
“But not from those who re-assimulate.”
“People who come back to stay, you mean?”
“Yes, people who survived on Cet Four but still couldn’t make it,” Naraya said. “It’s why some colonists give up and return for good.”
“I deal only with those who have something to sell.”
“There aren’t very many re-assimulants who fit that description,” Naraya said. “Most of them don’t have anything.”
“Very sad.”
Naraya doubted that Genzler gave a damn about people who came back and tumbled into Earth’s sewers after guaranteed assistance ran out. They couldn’t give him what he wanted.
“You said you don’t plan to spend much time here, Mr. Naraya?” Genzler said with a hint of impatience.
“Yes, I did.”
“Then perhaps we should get on with it?”
“You want to close the deal now?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Too bad. I was enjoying our chat.”
“Very stimulating, but I have things to do, so it’s best if we don’t drag this out.”
“Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”
“To produce the egg?”
“That’s right.”
Genzler licked his lips.
“You’ll be surprised when you hear how close it is.”
“It doesn’t matter to me where it is as long as I get it.”
“Soon.”
Genzler frowned. He didn’t like being put off, but he had no choice except to humor Naraya if he wanted the egg. And Naraya had a pretty good idea how much Genzler wanted it.
“May I ask what you intend to do with a Nambu egg?” Naraya asked.
“Like you, I want to conduct some research.”
“You’ll have a lab built and hire scientists?”
“Yes, and I’ll pay them well.”
“How do you know if it’ll ever be profitable?”
“I don’t, but physicists claim that the egg has unprecedented potential.”
“Practical application could be a long way off.”
“Indeed, but I think it’s worth the investment, if the price is reasonable.”
“Is that why you’ll see anyone who comes in from Cet Four?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve seen a bunch of re-assimulants,” Naraya said. “Is it because you’ve been looking for an egg?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“Some people can only assimulate once,” Naraya said.
“I don’t see—”
“Sure you do.”
“Please come to the point, Mr. Naraya.”
“My point is that it’s a one-way trip for a certain class of citizens.”
“And who are they?”
“Convicts.”
“Oh, I see.”
“They’re sent out to be slave labor in Cet Four’s muck, clearing the swamps, building compounds for the incoming settlers, doing the scut work.”
“I don’t see what that’s got to do with our transaction.”
“Don’t you, Mr. Genzler?”
“What are you driving at?”
“That windfall you came into, how many years ago was it?”
“More than I care to recall.”
“You don’t look all that old.”
“If one can afford them, longevity aids keep improving.”
“That must be true of a lot of things, if you can afford them.”
“In some ways, life gets easier.”
“Not out there. When you travel to Cet Four, you’re disassembled, the information shot out on a tachyon jet, and you’re put back together on another world. You’re dead on arrival, although you sure wouldn’t know it if they didn’t tell you. But you do know, and it’s a very alienating thing to know.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“You’re on your own when you get to Cet Four. But most of us know that we can come back here if things don’t work out,” Naraya said. “We’d have to die again to do it, but so what? We’ll have identical bodies and faces, the same memories, the same personalities. It doesn’t seem like death.”
“Of course not.”
“But it is. What’s left over from our discarded bodies is recycled. Unless it’s not useful stuff. That’s burned.”
“Not a pleasant thought.”
“No matter how unpromising life back here on Earth may be, we can still return if we want to.”
“Obviously.”
“All except for the criminals. They can never come back.”
“Harsh, perhaps, but that’s the law.”
“And it’s been the law since the earliest days of tachyon transmission.”
“It was an effective way to rid society of criminals.”
“Some of them, anyway.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Do you remember a woman named Sylva Robaina?”
Genzler blinked. “Yes, I think so. She worked for me . . . a long time ago.”
