The Naked God

by Peter F. Hamilton

  Her day made, Genevieve gently took his hand in hers, and smiled up trustfully. “Can we see the hyper cool electronics now, please?”

  Understanding arrived within Louise’s mind like a solstice sunrise.

  Quietly irresistible, bringing with it a fresh perspective on the world.

  A new season of life begun.

  She knew precisely how to utilise the augmented mentality opening up within her brain as the filaments connected with her neurones, controlling the expanded potential with an instinct that could have been a genetic heritage it was so deep seated. Audio discrimination, analysing the murmur of sounds resonating through the door from the shop. Visual memory indexing, saving and storing what she saw. Pattern analysis. A test datavise, requesting an update from the medical package on her wrist. And the neuroiconic display, sight without eyes, moulding raw data into colour. It left her giddy and sweating from excitement. The sense of achievement was extraordinary.

  I’m equal to everybody else now. Or I will be when I’ve learned how to use all the applications properly.

  She datavised the implant package on her neck for a status check. A procedural menu sprang up inside her skull, and she ran a comparison. It confirmed the implantation process was complete. She instructed the package to disengage, withdrawing the empty capsule from which the filaments had sprouted, and knitting the cells together behind it.

  “Steady on,” Andy said. “That’s supposed to be my job.”

  Louise grinned at him as she climbed off the bench, and stretched extravagantly, flexing the stiffness out of limbs held still for too long. “Oh, come on,” she teased. “All your clients must do that. It’s the first taste of freedom we get. Having neural nanonics must be like being allowed to vote, you’ve become a full member of society. Aren’t they wonderful gadgets?”

  “Um. Yeah.” He got her to lean forwards, and peeled the implant package from her neck. “You can actually become a full citizen, you know.” The strangely hopeful tone earned him an inquisitive look.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You could apply for residential citizenship. If you wanted. I checked the Govcentral legal memory core. It’s no problem; you just need a Govcentral citizen to sponsor you, and a hundred fuseodollars fee. You can datavise them for an application. I’ve got the eddress.”

  “That’s um … very kind, Andy. But I don’t really plan on staying here for long.” She smiled, trying to let him down gently. “I have a fiancé, you see. He’s going to come and take me away.”

  “But Norfolk laws wouldn’t apply to you,” Andy blurted desperately. “Not here. Not if you’re an Earth citizen. You’d be safe.”

  “I’m sure I am anyway. Thank you.” She smiled again, slightly more firm this time; and slipped past him out into the shop.

  “Louise! I want this,” Genevieve shrieked. The little girl was standing in the middle of the shop, arms held rigid at her side as she turned round and round. There was a small block clipped onto her belt with DEMONSTRATOR printed in blue on its top. Louise hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time.

  “What have you got, Gen?”

  “I gave her a pair of realview lenses to try,” Andy said quietly. “Like contact lenses, but they receive a datavise from the block which overlays a fantasyscape on what you’re seeing.” He datavised a code to her.

  “That’ll let you view direct from the block.”

  Louise datavised the code, marvelling at how smoothly she did it, and closed her eyes. The world started to spin around her. A very strange world. It had the same dimensions as the inside of Jude’s Eworld, but this was a cave of onyx, where every surface corresponded to walls and counters, fat stalagmites had replaced the flek sale bins. People had become hulking black and chrome cyborgs, whose limbs were clusters of yellow pistons.

  “Isn’t it fabulous?” Gen whooped. “It changes whatever you look at.”

  “Yes, Gen, it’s good.” She saw the mouth on one of the cyborgs clank apart to speak her own words, and smiled. The cyborg’s mouth froze open.

  Louise cancelled her reception from the realview block.

  “You can get about fifty different imagery programs for it,” Andy said.

  “This one’s Metalpunk Wasteland. Quite popular. There’s an audioplug peripheral to change the voices.”

  “Please, Louise! This one.”

  “All right, all right.”

  Andy datavised an off code to the demonstrator block. Genevieve pouted as the cave melted back into the shop. Andy started piling boxes and small flek cases up on the counter. “What supplements do you want?” he asked.

  Louise consulted the market menu already included in the NAS2600. “News hound, global eddress directory search, people tracker … um the pregnancy supplement for my physiological monitor, universal message script. I think that’s it.”

  “You’re entitled to another twenty.”

  “I know. Do I have to collect them all today? I’m not really sure what else I’ll need.”

  “Take as much time as you need to choose, and drop in whenever you want. But I’d recommend netA, that’ll give you your own eddress, you’ve got to pay an annual fee to the link company, but nobody will be able to contact you without one. Oh, and streetnav, too, if you’re going to stay in London—shows you the short cuts and how to use public transport.”

  “Okay, fine, put them on.” More flek cases began to appear on the counter. “And that electronic warfare block we talked about.”

  “Sure thing.”

  When he slapped it down, it didn’t look much different to her ordinary processor block, same anonymous oblong of dark grey plastic.

  “Who buys bugs and things like that from you?” she asked.

  “Could be anyone. Girl wanting to find out if her boyfriend’s cheating on her. Manager who needs to know which of his staff are ripping him off. Voyeur perverts. Mostly, though, it’s private detectives. Regular spooks convention at times, this place.”

  Louise didn’t approve of that notion that just anybody could come along and spy on their friends and enemies. There ought to be some restrictions on who could buy such items. But then regulation was one thing Earth didn’t seem to have much of.

  Andy handed over the shop’s accounts block with an apologetic smile.

  Louise tried not to shiver as she transferred the money over from her Jovian Bank disk. She gave the realview block and a packet of disposable lenses to Genevieve, who promptly tore the wrapping off with a gleeful, “Yesss.”

  “I’ll see you when you come back for the rest of your software?” Andy asked. “And if you change your mind about … the other thing, I’ll be happy to sponsor your application. I’m entitled to do that. I’m an adult citizen.”

  “Right,” she said gingerly. There was something very odd about the way he’d latched onto the idea. She was debating whether to quiz him further when she caught the glint of devilment in Gen’s eye. The little girl spun round quickly. “You’ve been very kind, Andy,” Louise said. “Please don’t worry about me.” She leant over the counter and gave him a light kiss.

  “Thanks.”

  Genevieve was already making for the door, giggling wildly. Louise snatched up the carrier bag full of fleks, and chased after her.

  Louise lay back on her bed as the brilliant sun finally sank away below Green Park. Genevieve was sleeping on the bed next to her, exhausted by the very long day.

  Terrible child, Louise thought fondly. I must make sure she gets a set of neural nanonics when she turns sixteen. She closed her own eyes and put the news hound program into primary mode. The room’s net processor acknowledged her datavise, and she began asking for general items on the possessed. That was when she had her crash course on using news hound’s filter program accessories and designating more refined search parameters. It took an hour, but she was eventually able to slot the myriad events reported by Earth’s news agencies into an overall picture.

  The arrival of the Mount’s
Delta was a weird one. The way its crewman had been shredded hinted strongly at Quinn Dexter to her mind.

  New York’s abrupt isolation was the principal current topic for the agencies, in fact it was just about their only topic. Govcentral’s North American Commissioner appeared before the reporters to assure everyone that it was just a precaution, and they were investigating a “possessed-type” incident in Dome One as a matter of procedure. No schedule was given for opening the vac-trains. Police squads, reinforced with riot-control mechanoids, were out in force on the streets as the arcology residents became highly restless.

  Then there was the event which caused Louise to jerk upright on the bed, opening her eyes wide in surprise and delight. Tranquillity’s arrival at Jupiter. Joshua was here! In this star system.

  She sank back onto the pillows, shaking with excitement. The universal message script was hurriedly brought into primary mode. She composed a file for him which she really hoped didn’t sound too desperate and pathetic, and datavised it triumphantly into the communication net. Her neural nanonics told her that Jupiter was five hundred and fifty million miles away, so the signal would take about forty minutes to reach it. She might have a reply within two hours!

  Western Europe, who was monitoring her net connection, instructed the AI to block the message. The last thing he needed right now was some dunderhead boyfriend charging to the rescue, especially one as famous as Lagrange Calvert.

  Chapter 09

  The party was a good one, though the guy with only one arm was kind of weird. Liol knew he was staring, and loaded a mild protocol reminder into his neural nanonics. It was just that he’d never seen anything like that before. Didn’t seem to affect the guy’s balance out on the dance floor, and the girl he was with obviously didn’t mind. Or perhaps she enjoyed the novelty value. Knowing the girls in this habitat, that was a strong option. Come to that, maybe the missing arm was an obscure fashion statement. Not impossible.

  Liol headed for the buffet table, picking his way through the crowd. Just about everyone smiled and said hello as they jostled together. He replied to most of them, their names familiar now without having to access a memory file. Plutocrat princes and princesses, with media celebrities jumbled in for variety. They tended to work hard during the day, expanding corporate empires, starting new dynasties, never taking their wealth for granted especially in these times. Tranquillity’s change of location was causing them unique problems in sustaining their traditional markets, but there were fabulous benefits to be had from being placed in the Confederation’s wealthiest star system. They’d set about exploiting that as ruthlessly and gleefully as only they could. But nights were given over to a single giant funtime: parties, restaurants, shows, clubs; Tranquillity boasted the best of them all in profusion.

  He wasn’t even sure who his host was. The apartment was as expensively anonymous as all the others he’d been in over the last few days, a hospitality showcase. Everything selected by designers to demonstrate their talent and taste—bitched over by other designers. Just another party. No doubt he and Dominique would grace two or three more before the night was out. The social set he’d belonged to in Ayacucho had never been shy of a good time, and were wealthy enough to indulge themselves. But compared to this mob, they were jejune provincials.

  They were fascinated that he was Joshua’s brother. Smiled indulgently when he told them he had his own business back in Ayacucho. But he could reveal little about Lady Mac’s last flight. So conversation tended to dry up fast after that. He really didn’t know much about Confederation politics, or the money shifts in multistellar markets, or hot entertainment items (Jezzibella was Capone’s girl—oh, come on!); and he certainly didn’t relish discussing the possessed, and how the crisis was developing.

  He took a plate along the long table of canapés, deliberately picking the more bizarre-looking items. Jupiter was rising across the window behind the table, so he munched and stared, as overwhelmed by the spectacle as any hick farmboy. Not quite the reaction of a sophisticated starship crewman-about-the-galaxy. The aspiration he’d cherished for himself since first hearing Lady Mac was supposedly his rightful inheritance. Now he’d flown in Lady Mac, actually getting to pilot her. He’d seen new star systems, even fought in an orbital war and (ironically implausible) saved the Confederation—or at least alleviated some of the Navy’s burden. After the pinnacle, there was always the journey back down again. He would never, ever be as good a pilot as Joshua. The manoeuvres his brother had flown during the Beezling encounter had made that quite obvious. And the Confederation wasn’t such a fun place to roam through any more. Neither was life, now the beyond waited.

  A reflection in the window made him turn. Joshua and Ione were mingling among the guests. Talking with ease, laughing. A good-looking couple, Josh in a formal black jacket, her in a flowing green evening dress. He was about to go over when Joshua led Ione out onto the dance floor.

  “Yoo hoo.” Dominique waved from across the room. People struggled to get out of the way as she cut a line straight for him. Liol was granted the knowledge of what it must be like for a planet to face an invading fleet.

  Her hand grasped his arm, and she rubbed her nose against his. “I missed you,” she murmured with silky reproach.

  “I was hungry.”

  “Me too.” The resentment snapped off, replaced with bountiful mischief.

  She plucked one of the canapés from his plate and popped it straight into her mouth. “Eeek. Sungwort seaweed, and they coated it in coriander.”

  “It was interesting,” he apologised meekly. She was as adorable as she was terrifying. By far the most beautiful girl in the room, Dominique favoured a more natural look than her contemporaries, a gypsy girl among the glossy mannequins. Her black evening gown was full-length, but that somehow didn’t stop it from displaying a huge quantity of strategic flesh. Her broad lips curved up into a delighted smile. She dabbed her finger on his nose. “I just love your innocence.” A quality of which he had very little left. Sex with Dominique was narcotic, ruining you with pleasure.

  She held his gaze for a moment, face enraptured by devotion. He wanted to turn and flee. “Someone I’d like you to meet,” she said neutrally, as if divining his response. A finger beckoned. There was a slim girl standing behind her, completely blocked by Dominique’s broad, healthy physique.

  She had a prim Oriental face with hair several shades fairer than Dominique. “This is Neomone.”

  “Hi,” Neomone darted forward and kissed him. Then swayed back, blushing, looking very pleased with herself.

  “Hi.” He didn’t quite know what to make of her. She was in her late teens, wearing a slinky silk dress that revealed an almost androgynous figure, all ribcage and stringy muscle. Thrilled and nervous at the same time, she kept giving Dominique worshipful glances.

  “Neomone is training to be a ballerina,” Dominique purred.

  “I’ve never been to a ballet,” Liol admitted. “We’ve had troupes visit Ayacucho, but I didn’t think it would be quite me. Sorry.”

  Neomone giggled. “Ballet is for everyone.”

  “You should dance with him,” Dominique told her. “Let him see there’s nothing to be scared of from cultural élitism.” She cocked an eye at Liol. “Neomone’s quite a fan of yours, you know.”

  He grinned, slightly awkward. “Oh. Why’s that?”

  “You flew in the Lady Mac,” the girl said breathlessly. “Everyone knows Joshua was on a secret mission.”

  “If you know, then it can’t be that secret, can it.”

  “Told you he was a modest hero,” Dominique said. “In public, anyway.”

  Liol managed to keep smiling valiantly. Maybe he had bragged a little.

  That was the nature of the starflight business. “You know how it is,” he shrugged.

  Neomone’s giggles were unstoppable. “Not yet,” she said. “But I’m going to find out tonight.”

  The beach glowed a pale silver under the light-tube’s
lunar radiance.

  Joshua took his shoes off to walk along it, holding Ione’s hand. The sand was warm and soft, flowing over his toes like grainy liquid. Tiny fluorescent fish darted about just under the sea’s surface, as if a shower of pink and azure sparks were tumbling horizontally through the water. Somebody had made a row of small melted-looking mounds just above the shoreline, meandering away into the distance.

  Ione signed contentedly, and leaned into him. “I know it’s silly, but I keep coming back. She loved playing on this beach. I suppose I’m expecting to find her here.”

  “Jay?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “And Haile. I hope she’s all right.”

  “The Kiint say she is. They wouldn’t lie about that. Many things, but not the welfare of a child.”

  “She must be so lonely.” Ione sat down with her back to one of the small dunes. She slid her silk scarf from her neck. “I don’t see why they won’t let us bring her back from Jobis. Starships are still going there.”

  “Bloody mystics,” Joshua sat beside her. “Probably not in their horoscopes.”

  “You’re starting to sound like dear old Parker Higgens.”

  Joshua laughed. “I can’t believe that old duffer is coming with us. And Getchell as well.”

  “They’re the best I’ve got.”

  “Thanks for asking me to go. I need to be flying. I’m no good to anybody just sitting around.”

  “Joshua.” She reached over to trace the stark line of his jaw bone. “I’m pregnant again. You’re the father.”

  His mouth flopped open. She smiled, and kissed him gently. “Sorry. Bad timing. Again. I’m very good at that.”

  “No,” he said with weak defiance. “No, that’s, er, not bad timing at all.”