look out for NATCH.
15
Natch's challenges did not end there. When Bolbund spread the word about what had happened to him, the ROD coding community took it as a personal affront. ROD coders followed a loose, bohemian ethos where nothing was taken too seriously and thievery was allowed for sport but not for money. Natch's ruse-or at least Bolbund's version of it-violated those principles.
And so Natch had to endure several blatant attempts by third-rate programmers to sabotage his products, steal his customers, and savage his reputation. But this did not faze him. Natch quickly developed a reputation on the Data Sea for his humorless determination and his inability to accept defeat. Beat him once, and he would not stop until he had humiliated you three or four times in return-and fired a few warning shots at your friends and associates to boot.
Captain Bolbund returned to the business after his ninety-day suspension. But by this point, the ROD coding community had come to the consensus that the best way to deal with Natch was to leave him alone and grease his path up and out of the business altogether. An enterprising young woman in Sudafrica even made a profit out of it by selling a program called NatchWatch that kept other coders abreast of Natch's activities.
Bolbund decided to steer clear of the angry young programmer.
Natch spent another two years honing his skills in the ROD game. By the time Primo's took notice and tagged him as a rising star, Natch's services were in high demand among the elites. He had also acquired a long list of enemies, which was an even greater indicator of success as far as Natch was concerned. Nobody likes success but the successful, the ruthless financier Kordez Thassel had once said.
Eventually, Natch decided to move out of his cramped Angelos apartment and settle somewhere else. He chose the city of Shenandoah, whose coffers were overflowing with fiefcorp revenues and whose local L-PRACGs were among the most libertarian in the world. With another financial boost from Horvil, he could even afford a place that included its own private multi stream and a small garden of daisies off the living room.
But the money was still abysmal compared to the sums the capitalmen were tossing into the bio/logic fiefcorp sector every day. The ranks of the diss were thinning, and those of the fiefcorps were inflating. There was talk on the Data Sea of another Great Boom like the one that had preceded Marcus Surina's death.
Natch spent another year freelancing, taking on the occasional ROD but concentrating more on neurological software. As his profile rose, so did his prospects. Natch received multi requests and lunch invitations every week from capitalmen and channelers trying to get a sense of his future plans. They seemed to be competing with one another to see who could slip in the most dismissive reference to the Shortest Initiation. Many of the same fiefcorp masters who had tried to shanghai Natch into worthless apprenticeships a few years ago were now sugaring him with promises of large signing bonuses.
He even heard from a few groups in the bio/logics underground who promised him a fortune writing black code off the grid. The future lay not with fiefcorps and memecorps, they said, but with clandestine teams of programmers sponsored by rich creed organizations and lunar tycoons, programmers who were being paid to circumvent the restrictive laws of central government and stretch the boundaries of bio/logics.
Natch got into the habit of taking the tube out to the great sequoia forests and zigzagging from station to station for hours while he stared up at the trees and tried on alternative career paths like gloves.
'You've done really well with RODs,' said Jara during one of her frequent consultations. 'But isn't it time you set your sights a little higher?'
Horvil agreed. 'I never thought I would be the one telling you to get some ambition,' he said mockingly. 'There's bigger targets out there, and a fuck of a lot more money!'
Contrary to what Jara and Horvil thought, however, Natch had not settled into a rut. He was biding his time, saving up his resources, marshaling his abilities. He wanted to plan his next move carefully so he would not fail again.
One cold winter night at three a.m., he sent a Confidential Whisper to Serr Vigal.
The neural programmer didn't mind at all being woken up; in fact, he was overjoyed to hear from his former protege. Ten minutes later, Natch hopped on an Omaha-bound tube. Within an hour, he was standing in Vigal's foyer. Natch was surprised to find their friendly hug metamorphosing into a real flesh-and-blood embrace.
True to form, Serr Vigal had changed little in the past few years. Memecorp business had risen with the tide of the economy, but this had also caused his fundraising duties to swell to epic proportions. Vigal had just returned from a meeting with some of the minor bodhisattvas at Creed Surina and was due at the sybaritic resort of 49th Heaven in two days to speak about newly proposed OCHRE standards.
'So what causes the prodigal son to visit his old guardian in the middle of the night?' asked Vigal between sips of green tea.
'I need your advice,' said Natch.
'Oh?'
'I'm ready to start my own fiefcorp.'
Later that morning, Horvil and Jara agreed to come over to assist in the planning. Following standard etiquette, which said that crucial business decisions should be made in person, the two caught a hoverbird across the Atlantic from London. They met in the flesh for the first time on the runway and gave each other formal bows. By the time they arrived in Omaha, Horvil and Jara were already grumbling at each other like longtime companions.
Natch brought the first meeting of the Natch Personal Programming Fiefcorp to order around Vigal's kitchen table at noon.
From the outset, cash flow was the primary issue. Natch couldn't realistically expect any revenue flowing into the company for at least sixty days, yet there were a number of capital investments that needed to be made in the beginning. Licensing fees to the Meme Cooperative, listing fees to Primo's and the L-PRACGs, bio/logic equipment, administrative programs. Natch's savings would go a long way towards covering these costs, and eventually he would recoup the rest through new-fiefcorp tax breaks. But in the meantime, he was short the credits for apprentices' room and board those first few months.
He turned expectantly towards Horvil, but the engineer surprised him by shaking his head. 'Sorry,' he said, 'but if I'm gonna be your apprentice, Natch, I don't want to complicate things.'
Natch's eyebrows creased in confusion. 'You want to be my apprentice?'
'Sure, why not? You're gonna need a first-rate engineer on the team, aren't you? The way I figure it, the only place I'm safe from that competitive streak of yours is on your payroll.'
'But-the pay ...'
'This ain't about the money, Natch,' said Horvil jauntily, pleased to catch his friend off guard. 'I've got enough of that. I just don't want to miss out on all the fun. And besides-someone has to keep you sane.'
Serr Vigal beamed at the engineer in approval. 'I don't think your credits will be necessary, Horvil,' he said. 'I can cover the payroll for the first few months.'
This outpouring of faith and goodwill began to arouse Natch's suspicions. 'And what do you want in return?'
'Do I have to want anything in return?' replied Vigal with a cozy smile.
Natch's face turned a flustered purple. 'I'm serious, Vigal,' he muttered. 'What do you want?'
Vigal sighed and considered the question for a minute. 'Okay, then how about a membership on the board, with a stake in the decisionmaking. A minority stake, of course,' he added hastily. Natch nodded in mute satisfaction. Young fiefcorps often ended up with a concerned father or generous aunt on the board. 'I can't promise I'll be available every day or even every week,' continued the neural programmer, 'but just remember, I'll always be there when you need help.'
Embarrassed, Natch turned towards the last person at the table. He didn't know what to expect from Jara. Unlike his career, hers had not blossomed over the past few years. A gradual detente in her relations with Lucas Sentinel had resulted in the occasional piece of business, but Jara had come increasingly to rely on Natch's consulting fees to make a living.
