“I hope you won’t view me that way, Enochi.” She smiled sadly. “I see no reason to expose you. Tell me this though: is wherever you’re from outside of Heaven's River? Or at least outside of what the rest of us live in?”
I hesitated… then decided to go for it.
“Yes, Teresa. And you're right, I'm not Quinlan. There is an Administrator, but they aren’t a deity, just an engineering construct. And they’re after me because they want this back.” I gestured with the matrix again.
“Is it there’s?”
I shook my head. “No. In fact, I literally personally built this item myself. The Administrator took it from me, then the Resistance took it from them, and now I am trying to take it back. That is enormously simplified, and leaves a lot of detail, but it is the truth.”
She smiled and nodded. “Thank you for telling me. I will miss our discussions.”
“Because, no doubt, you will be leaving without notice at the first opportunity. Good night, Enochi.” And with that, she turned and headed back to where granddaughter was curled up.
I was shaken. As I finished securing the matrix and placed my spider back into the trunk, I had plenty of time to consider my options. Granted, of all the people to discover me, she was probably the best option. But however I parsed it, I was exposed. And she was right: the safest move might be for me to leave straightaway.
90 miles, more or less. That was the surface distance between rivers. I briefly considered doing an overland hike to the next river, but that was just too far. Five days hiking, and that was if nothing went wrong, and again, I couldn't use streams or tributaries.
Teresa and Freda were at it again, theistic versus atheistic morality. I'd heard it all so many times before, mostly when I was still alive, that it was hard to stay interested. Teresa glanced at me from time to time, but made no effort to draw me into the conversation. Orrick, however, had no reservations.
“Enochi, what in Father's name is wrong with you? Run out of things to talk about?”
“I… uh, I have things on my mind, Orrick. Sorry, I’ll get over myself soon.”
Teresa smiled at me. “It's okay, it's not like we're on a schedule.”
I opened my mouth to reply, just as the captain started her daily tirade about sloppy, lazy, do-nothing deckhands. Turned out we were on a schedule.
“We’ll be turning around at the end of this segment, Ted said during a rest break. “You still planning on continuing east?”
“Yep. As far as I know haven't moved my home city.”
“Teresa and Belinda are getting off at Misty Falls - that's our last stop before turnaround. I guess you’ll all be getting off together.
I thought about that for a moment, but I couldn’t see how it affected my level of risk. Teresa wasn't any more likely to suddenly loudly denounce me just because she was on land. Still, once I was on another boat among a whole new set of strangers, I’d feel a lot better.
By midday. We were approaching the Misty Falls docks. I can account for the fact that I felt more sadness than a sense of dread or danger, until he realized that I would never see Teresa again. She’d become very much a friend over a surprisingly short time. However, I have no choice. There wasn't even a case of getting away. The Hurricane was turning around to head along the Paradise River.
Docking was the usual chaotic jumble of yelled orders and flying ropes, and then we were moored. At that point Captain Lisa came over to say goodbye to Teresa, Belinda, and me. They'd have enough deckhands with Harvey, who was staying on, but no passengers for the return trip. I hoped they'd still be able to turn a profit. I picked up my trunk and followed Belinda and Teresa down the gangplank, not particularly paying attention.
Which I guess explained my surprise when we walked out into a circle of cops.
19. Recall is a Thing
Howard
August 2334
Trantor
I sat back and put my hands behind my head, grinning like a fool.
“You have that smug look, Bridget said. “What happened?”
“Well, it turns out we're not the only replicants with money and influence.” I waved a hand at the email displayed on the canvas. “Senator Macintosh, remember him? Loudly anti-replicant? He’s being recalled.”
“Really?”
“They got the required signatures, and guess who was behind the recall campaign?”
“Us?”
I laughed. “No, although I would've loved to have a hand in it. The man is a toxic dump of xenophobia and undirected hate. It's possible he didn't realize that the Afterlife Replicant Reserve is part of his district. Or maybe he thought he could remove our rights before they could fight back or something.”
Bridget frowned. “That would be a couple hundred signatures at most. They'd need…” Bridget's eyes lost focus for a moment. “… something like 15,000 to succeed.”
“Yep. Turns out though, that people are concerned about their afterlife. Afterlives? Anyway, the anti-Macintosh group started comparing him to FAITH, in terms of removing replicant rights, then implied that no matter what kind of post-life set up someone chose, he'd be after them sooner or later. I guess it's different when you're personally threatened.”
Bridget snorted and sat down beside me. She spent a few seconds paging through the news items before turning to face me.
“Still, he hasn't actually been voted out yet. Let’s not count our politicians before their properly cooked. And the overall problem is still there: mistrust of replicants.”
“Which is why I've started a rumor that someone is working on Mannies for the living. It's not exactly spilling the beans. For instance, I didn't share any information about exactly who is doing this, or how far along we - er, they - are. But the point is that if humans think they can have a Manny while they're still alive, a full ban will be a hard sell.”
Bridget smiled noncommittally them
