passed him some silent signal to proceed. 'Magan Kai Lee is Len Borda's number two man at the Defense and Wellness Council,' said the neural programmer. 'He was there with the High Executive during our meeting this morning. We think Borda has put him in charge of dealing with MultiReal.'
'Lee ... is he the guy who's been speaking at the Council news conferences lately?' said Horvil, scratching his head. 'He's real short. Chinese, I think.'
Natch gave a weary nod. 'That's him.'
'I don't understand,' said Jara. 'What do they want from us? If Borda's so worried about infoquakes, why are they terrorizing Merri? We didn't have anything to do with that disturbance during Margaret's speech. Shouldn't they be talking with the Data Sea architects?'
'Haven't you figured it out yet?' said Natch. 'These infoquakes- if they even exist-are the least of Borda's concerns. MultiReal is dangerous, Jara. Think of an assassin who can fire a black code dart that hits its target every time. That's scary enough. But imagine what an army of people running MultiReal could do.'
Nobody said anything for a good two minutes.
'So yes, Merri, we're going to be hearing a lot more from Len Borda and Magan Kai Lee,' said Natch. 'You can count on it. They're going to be our biggest hurdle from here on out.'
All trace of levity had vanished from Benyamin's face. 'Our biggest hurdle? What other hurdles are there?'
'Don't be naive, Ben! It's a big world. All kinds of fanatics are going to decide MultiReal is the solution to their problems. Do you think everyone's going to sit patiently and wait for us to go through the product development process?'
'Someone has already decided not to wait,' interjected Merri in a hoarse whisper.
Silence shrouded the room once again.
'Have we made any headway on the black code problem?' said Jara. 'Do we know what it does?'
Vigal shook his head. 'I've taken a few cursory scans of Natch's system, but I haven't been able to come up with much. It's capable of putting him to sleep. That much is clear. All I can say is, be patient. There are thousands of OCHRE machines in the human body. It may take some time to examine them all.'
'How do you know the code is still there?' asked the bio/logic analyst.
'Programs have signatures, Jara,' explained Horvil. 'They leave traces.' His alcohol-inhibiting OCHREs were back on in full force; the engineer was now stone cold sober. 'Your typical piece of black code self-destructs after it's done all its dirty work. No incriminating evidence, right? But there's so many safeguards against erasing OCHRE programming that you usually know it if a piece of black code selfdestructs inside of you.'
'That is often the only way people know they've been infected at all,' added Vigal. 'They don't notice the insertion, but the selfdestruct they can feel.'
'So who are the prime suspects?' asked Jara.
Natch muttered something noncommittal.
Jara tugged at a few stray curls of hair in frustration. 'Well, who do you think did it? The Patel Brothers? Lucas Sentinel? This other bodhisattva you've been working with? Who?'
The fiefcorp master's face suddenly twisted into a rictus of fear, anger and pain. His right fist flew out and slammed into the conference table with a reverberating thump that caused everyone to gasp in astonishment. 'I don't know!' he cried out. 'I just don't know, Jara! But it's my problem-not yours! Leave me the fuck alone!'
Nobody spoke for a few moments as Natch wrestled with his emotions. The fiefcorp master seemed to be on the verge of losing complete control. Vigal raised a hand and started towards Natch's left shoulder, then thought better of it and returned the hand to his lap.
The SeeNaRee picked up on the foul mood and hurled a blistering wind across the plain outside. There were so many possibilities, so many potential enemies. Everyone had heard stories about the shadowy organizations that existed outside the dominion of the Prime Committee and the Defense and Wellness Council. The violent factions of the Pharisees who yearned to bring humanity back to God's Natural Order ... the unpredictable masses of the diss who escaped, eluded or just plain ignored the edicts of the law ... creed bodhisattvas on the fringes who preached destruction while spurning the normalizing umbrella of the Creeds Coalition ... radical libertarians who denied the legitimacy of the central governments and actively worked for their destruction. And this list didn't even include the disruptive forces arrayed against them inside the bounds of civilized society. L-PRACGs desperate to get their hands on any ultimate weapon that could put an end to ancient ethnic rivalries ... unscrupulous fiefcorps which would leap headlong into thievery and murder if it would help them make a profit ... drudges and demagogues with narrow personal agendas who could whip the public into a revolutionary frenzy ... conservative politicians who could quarantine MultiReal behind a wall of rules and regulations to ensure that the program never saw the light of day.
Soon, Natch had muscled the panic into a temporary chokehold, and his face showed nothing but the normal intensity, the normal restlessness, the normal insanity. 'I don't think we need to worry too much about the black code for the moment,' he said. 'Len Borda's people are sniffing around looking for the ambushers. I think his show of force this afternoon scared them off. If these people in the black robes wanted me dead-or wanted you all dead-it would have happened by now.
'But if you're looking for a way out ...'
Without warning, the wolf inside took over and Natch burst into that predatory grin. The grin of the savage beast, the grin that put fear inside his friends and enemies alike.
'If you want a way out, I'll give you one. You all have twenty-four hours to liquefy your shares and cash out your contracts at no penalty. Anyone who doesn't have the stomach for this, anyone who doesn't want to keep looking over their shoulder wondering where the next surprise is coming from, now's your chance to get out.'
34
Natch took the tube out to Cisco again to see the redwoods. He sat for hours mesmerized by their beauty, until they merged together in his mind, until all he could see were different aspects of one universal Tree.
Of course, the challenges had just begun. They had always just begun. Natch had connived and bargained and bluffed his way through the bio/logics game, only to find himself playing in a much more complex game. The stakes were higher here. You could lose your business. You could lose your possessions. You could lose your life, and the lives of those around you.
But had anything really changed? He remembered being five years old and feeling the oppressive weight of that bureau pressing down upon him. He remembered a very real fear that the blocks he had used to prop it up would slip away and leave him dead on the floor.
He stopped in Omaha on the way home.
'I think she's going to quit,' Natch said to Serr Vigal, sitting on a velvet chaise in the neural programmer's study.
Vigal was in his kitchen, preparing tea the traditional way, by steeping fragrant leaves in near-boiling water. Natch found it a peculiar time-wasting habit. But then again, he had trekked across the continent enough times for a glimpse at the redwoods to look past a petty vice like caffeine. The older man carefully drew the antique china cup and saucer to his lips, blew softly, and took a tentative sip. Relaxation immediately rippled across his face. 'Which one?' he said. 'Merri or Jara? '
'Jara, of course. Mark my words, she'll be taking orders from that peon Lucas Sentinel before the end of the week. As for Merri-I think she'll stay aboard.'
'Are you certain?'
'I know what you're afraid of, Vigal. You're thinking that sooner or later, Magan Kai Lee is going to get to her and start playing the morality card. Would the Bodhisattva of Creed Objective want you to stand up for a man like Natch? He hasn't been asking you to lie and violate your vows, has he? But I think she's stronger than she looks. Merri won't turn on us.'
The neural programmer came into the study and took a seat across from his protege. Natch watched his mentor squint at something out the window. He knew from long experience that Vigal wasn't preoccupied with the view of downtown Omaha two hours before sun-up; he was preparing to make an emotional statement. 'So who do
