Cryptonomicon

'Very funny.' Avi is annoyed. He is baring his soul, which he does rarely. Also, he's in the midst of cataloging another small-h holocaust site, adding it to his archives. It is clear he would appreciate some fucking solemnity here. 'I visited Mexico a few weeks ago,' Avi continues.

'Looking for a site where the Spanish killed a bunch of Aztecs?' Randy asks.

'This is exactly the kind of thing I'm fighting,' Avi says, even more irritated. 'No, I was not looking for a place where a bunch of Aztecs were massacred. The Aztecs can go fuck themselves, Randy! Repeat after me: the Aztecs can go fuck themselves,'

'The Aztecs can go fuck themselves,' Randy says cheerfully, drawing a baffled look from an approaching Nipponese tour guide.

'To begin with, I was hundreds of miles from Mexico City, the former Aztec capital. I was on the outer fringes of the territory that the Aztecs controlled.' Avi scoops his GPS off the boulder and begins to punch keys on its pad, telling it to store the latitude and longitude in its memory. 'I was looking,' Avi continues, 'for the site of a Nahuatl city that was raided by the Aztecs hundreds of years before the Spanish even showed up. You know what those fucking Aztecs did, Randy?'

Randy uses his hands to squeegee away sweat from his face. 'Something unspeakable?'

'I hate that word 'unspeakable.' We must speak of it.'

'Speak then.'

'The Aztecs took twenty-five thousand Nahuatl captives, brought them back to Tenochtitlan, and killed them all in a couple of days.'

'Why?'

'Some kind of festival. Super Bowl weekend or something. I don't know. The point is, they did that kind of shit all the time. But now, Randy, when I talk about Holocaust-type stuff happening in Mexico, you give me this shit about the mean nasty old Spaniards! Why? Because history has been distorted, that's why.'

'Don't tell me you're about to come down on the side of the Spaniards.'

'As the descendant of people who were expelled from Spain by the Inquisition, I have no illusions about them,' Avi says, 'but, at their worst, the Spaniards were a million times better than the Aztecs. I mean, it really says something about how bad the Aztecswere that, when the Spaniards,showed up and raped the place, things actually got a lot betteraround there.'

'Avi?'

'Yes.'

'We are sitting here in the Sultanate of Kinakuta, trying to build a data haven while fending off an oral surgeon-turned-hostile-take-over-maven. I have pressing responsibilities in the Philippines. Why are we discussing the Aztecs?'

'I'm giving you a pep talk,' Avi says. 'You are bored. Dangerously so. The Pinoy-gram thing was cool for a while, but now it's up and running, there's no new technology there.'

'True.'

'But the Crypt is amazingly cool. Tom and John and Eb are going nuts, and every Secret Admirer in the world is spamming me with resumes. The Crypt is exactly what you would like to be doing right now.'

'Again, true.'

'Even if you were working on the Crypt, though, philosophical issues would be gnawing at you-issues based on the types of people who you see getting involved, who may be our first customers.'

'I cannot deny that I have philosophical issues,' Randy says. Suddenly he has come up with a new hypothesis: Aviis actually [email protected].

'Instead, you are laying cable in the Philippines. This is a job that-because of changes we just became aware of yesterday-is basically irrelevant to our corporate mission. But it's a lingering contractual obligation, and if we put anyone less important than you on it, the Dentist will be able to prove to the most half-witted jury of tofu- brained Californians that we are malingering.'

'Well, thank you for making it so clear why I should be miserable,' Randy says forbearingly.

'So,' Avi continues, 'I wanted to let you know that you aren't necessarily just making license plates here. And furthermore that the Crypt is not a morally bankrupt endeavor. Actually, you are playing a big role in the most important thing in the world.'

Randy says, 'You asked me earlier what is the highest and best purpose to which we could dedicate our lives. And the obvious answer is 'to prevent future Holocausts.''

Avi laughs darkly. 'I'm glad it's obvious to you,my friend. I was beginning to think I was the only one.'

'What!? Get over yourself, Avi. People are commemorating the Holocaust all the time.'

'Commemorating the Holocaust is not,not not not not not,the same thing as fighting to prevent future holocausts. Most of the commemorationists are just whiners. They think that if everyone feels bad about past holocausts, human nature will magically transform, and no one will want to commit genocide in the future.'

'I take it you do not share this view, Avi?'

'Look at Bosnia!' Avi scoffs. 'Human nature doesn't change, Randy. Education is hopeless. The most educated people in the world can turn into Aztecs or Nazis just like that.' He snaps his fingers.

'So what hope is there?'

'Instead of trying to educate the potential perpetratorsof holocausts, we try to educate the potential victims. Theywill at least pay some fucking attention.'

'Educate them in what way?'

Avi closes his eyes and shakes his head. 'Oh, shit, Randy, I could go on for hours-I have drawn up a whole curriculum.'

'Okay, we'll get into that later.'

'Definitely later. For now, the key point is that the Crypt is all-important. I can take all of my ideas and put them into a single pod of information, but almost every government in the world would prevent distribution to its citizens. It is essential to build the Crypt so that the HEAP can be freely distributed throughout the world.'

'HEAP?'

'Holocaust Education and Avoidance Pod.'

'Oh, Jesus Christ!'

'Thisis the true meaning of what you are working on,' Avi says, 'and so I urge you not to lose heart. Whenever you are about to get bored stamping out those license plates in the Philippines, think of the HEAP. Think of what those Nahuatl villagers could have done to those fucking Aztecs if they'd had a holocaust prevention manual-a handbook on guerilla warfare tactics.'

Randy sits and ponders for a while. 'We have to go and buy some water,' he finally says. 'I've sweated away a few liters just sitting here.'

'We can just go back to the hotel,' Avi says, 'I'm basically finished.'

'You're finished. I haven't even started,' Randy says.

'Started what?'

'Telling you why there's no chance I'm going to be bored in the Philippines.'

Avi blinks. 'You met a girl?'

'No!' Randy says testily, meaning Yes,of course. 'Come on, let's go.'

They go to a nearby 24 Jam and purchase bluish plastic bottles of water the size of cinderblocks. Then they wander around through streets crowded with unbearably savory-smelling food carts, guzzling the water.

'I got e-mail from Doug Shaftoe a few days ago,' Randy says. 'From his boat, via satellite phone.'

'In the clear?'

'Yeah. I keep bothering him to get Ordo and encrypt his e-mail, but he won't.'

'That is really unprofessional,' Avi grumbles. 'He needs to be more paranoid.'

'He's so paranoid that he doesn't even trust Ordo.' Avi's scowl eases. 'Oh. That's okay then.'

'His e-mail contained a stupid joke about Imelda Marcos.'