Natch was in MindSpace, stacking chunks of recursive code on a ledge of NiteFocus 50 like a boy lining up dominos. After fifty iterations, he would have expected the program to be perfect, but the more mindpower he devoted to NiteFocus, the more problematic it seemed to become. 'What is it, Horv?'
Horvil emitted a harrutnph and sliced his left hand through the line of dominos to catch his boss's attention. 'You're going to want to turn off the bubble for this, Natch,' he said. 'Trust me.' The fiefcorp master looked on skeptically as Horvil waved his hand at a viewscreen on the opposite wall.
A holographic projection of Petrucio Patel appeared in front of the screen. He was by far the handsomer of the two Patel brothers, and actually cut quite a dashing figure in his triple-buttoned suit and wispy black mustache. The projection was a recording, of course; Natch knew from experience that his hated rival was much taller in real life.
'Towards Perfection,' said Petrucio Patel in a rich baritone. 'We say that all the time to one another, for hello, for goodbye, for peace, for health. `Towards Perfection.' But do we really know what it means? Well, Sheldon Surina knew. The Father of Bio/Logics said that Perfection is a safe shore in the tempest. '
'Slick bastard,' Horvil mumbled under his breath.
'Shhh.'
'Isn't a safe shore what we're all looking for?' continued Petrucio Patel. 'But as the events of last night have clearly shown us, we live in a time without charted waters or safe shores ... unless you're using one of the Patel Brothers' new MultiReal programs, under direct license from Margaret Surina herself.'
Natch could feel a hole open up in the small of his back, out of which slithered a host of hidden anxieties. The Patels with a license to sell MultiReal? How was that possible? He turned off the MindSpace bubble and sank onto a stool.
Petrucio waved his brown-skinned hand and summoned forth a typical programming floor. Behind him in the shadows, half a dozen apprentices toiled away in their MindSpace bubbles, while the portly silhouette of Frederic Patel waddled from one workbench to the next. 'PatelReal 1.0 will bring you a whole set of practical applications for multiple realities that are safe enough to use in your own home,' said Petrucio. As soon as the word safe passed from his lips, a second Petrucio materialized on his left. Same triple-buttoned suit, same debonair smile.
'PatelReal easily keeps track of the confusion and complexity of multiple realities,' said the second Petrucio. And with a nod, he brought forth a third clone. 'PatelReal can help you navigate the troughs and waves of multiple realities ... and bring you to a safe shore! '
Finally, the third Petrucio Patel snapped his fingers, causing the rest of the display to vanish. 'The Patel Brothers: a safe shore in the tempest,' said the lone remaining Patel. 'Now, we know you have questions-and we have answers! Come attend the world's first demonstration of MultiReal technology next Tuesday, at the Kordez Thassel Complex near the Twin Cities. See PatelReal 1.0 in person! Until then, Towards Perfection-and a safe shore!'
The slick programmer took a bow, and vanished.
Questions buzzed like hornets inside Natch's head, too many and too fast to handle. He sat paralyzed on his stool, feeling like he himself had wandered into some kind of alternate reality. Horvil collapsed in a quivering heap on the visitor's chair in the corner.
Just when Natch thought he had everything figured out, just when he knew who all the players were in this game, the rules had suddenly changed. How could he have agreed to form a new company with Margaret when his greatest enemies had already struck a licensing deal with her? Was this entire MultiReal project a trap? Who else had a piece of MultiReal?
Natch's mind flashed back to the bio/logics industry gathering before Margaret's speech and his confrontation with Frederic Patel. So that's the game you two are playing, eh? the engineer had said, and Natch had naively assumed that Frederic had been speaking to him.
Natch's legs began to ache; he climbed slowly to his feet and began marching back and forth across the office. He needed to explore the practical dimensions of this latest news, not to mention the legal and financial dimensions. It wouldn't be long now before word of this debacle reached the drudges. Merri, Jara and Benyamin would have questions. Vigal would be sending him an awkward message of condolence any minute now.
Two minutes later, a multi request did indeed click inside his head. But it was not from a fiefcorp employee. Natch grabbed a bio/logic programming bar off his workbench and clutched it like a samurai warrior as he accepted the request.
Brone.
'Gaaah!' shouted a distressed Horvil as the Thasselian strode into the room. If the engineer had been present in the flesh, his recoil would have sent him tumbling backwards and probably smashed the chair to bits.
'Still the same after all these years, I see, Horvil,' Natch's old enemy said with a minuscule trace of amusement.
'But-but you're ...'
'What? Dead?' said the bodhisattva with a dismissive snort. 'No, not yet, I'm afraid, despite your friend's best efforts.'
Natch eyed his old enemy frostily. The prosthetic arm, false eye and scars were still evident, but now Brone wore them as comfortably as he wore his expensive cream-colored suit. Horvil did not seem to have even noticed his handicaps yet.
Then Natch caught sight of the three vertical stripes pinned to Brone's chest, the emblem for Creed Thassel, and the tumblers in his mind began to turn. The Thasselians ... Brone ... the Kordez Thassel Complex ... Petrucio Patel's demo next week ...
'Did you have anything to do with this?' he snapped.
A puzzled Brone blinked several times in quick succession. 'Did I have anything to do with what?' he replied calmly.
Natch looked his old hivemate in the eye and tried to penetrate that thick gauze of death. Could he actually be telling the truth? 'Play it back, Horv,' he said with a shrug. 'I'm sure that promo's all over the Data Sea anyway.'
Horvil had caught sight of Brone's rubbery right hand, and now couldn't stop staring at it. 'Fffft,' he said, tilting his head slightly in the direction of the viewscreen.
The Bodhisattva of Creed Thassel looked around for somewhere to sit, but his search only turned up the chair that Horvil had planted himself in and the stool Natch was zealously guarding. He turned towards the viewscreen, then stood in a dead-on imitation of politeness while the holographic Petrucio went through his spiel. A small smile gathered on Brone's face as he watched the performance.
'Quite clever,' said Brone after Patel faded into nothingness. 'The whole world's in an uproar over this `infoquake' nonsense ... and now the Patel Brothers of all people are going to show us the way to safety. How disingenuous.'
'You didn't answer my question,' said Natch through gritted teeth.
'Creed Thassel might be a small organization, Natch, and yes, I am the Bodhisattva of Creed Thassel. But there are still a few hundred thousand devotees on the rolls. Even if I knew whether Frederic and Petrucio have embraced our philosophy-which I don't-you certainly can't expect me to know what they're up to twenty-four hours a day.'
'They're holding a demo at the Kordez Thassel Complex.'
'Creed Elan and the Vault directors and the Meme Cooperative hold meetings there all the time,' shrugged Brone. 'You don't suspect them of being Thasselian spies, do you?'
Natch growled vehemently and raised the programming bar in his hands as if preparing to strike. Why did Brone always have to show up when his head was so full of cobwebs? 'So what the fuck are you doing here?' he said.
'Business.' Brone drifted over to the workbench and began studying the bio/logic programming bars with his virtual fingers.
Horvil, his jowls flapping, whipped his head back and forth between the two old rivals. Comprehension dawned on his face in a sudden rush. 'He's the `third party' that's financing us?'
''Third party'?' said Brone mockingly, his gaze suddenly focused on the engineer. 'Your master and I are
