Hwa swallowed. “How? When?” She turned to him. “Did you let them do this? Why would you let them do this?”
She didn’t bother waiting for an answer. She left the mirror. Found the water glass. Drained it. Contemplated the orchid in its slender vase. It looked like something Séverine would have chosen.
“It’s not that simple,” he was saying. “But if you want to blame me, you can. You should. It is my fault. If you want to think of it as a fault. As a bad thing.”
He laced their hands together. “I didn’t mean to give this to you. I didn’t think it could … spread. I’ve been careful. Every single time. Until now. But with you, with us…”
Heat flooded her. The memory was still fresh, as though it had happened the night before and not months ago. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
He nodded. “I didn’t donate my regimen to you. The Krebs were already working on you, when we found your body. As far as the doctors can tell, they entered you when we…” He pursed his lips. “Probably through a tear in your tissues. You did bleed. A little. That’s all it takes, apparently.”
“You spread it to me?”
He nodded. “You’re a changeling, now. Like me.”
Just like Branch. Just like how he’d spread his devices to Calliope and Sabrina and Eileen. What had killed them had saved her. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair at all. She didn’t deserve to be alive, any more than they deserved to be dead. And if she had chosen differently, if she had just held out, they would still be alive. For the first time since their deaths, she allowed herself to miss them. She would never hear Eileen’s gossip. She would never nag Layne about a BDJ question. She would never see the delighted triumph in Sabrina’s eyes as she landed a solid punch on the heavybag. They were gone and it was her fault. Both her eyes filled with tears. Daniel reached for her and she scrubbed the tears away before he could say anything.
Hwa sighed. “So you’re saying my whole body is full of proprietary technology? You’re saying I went from pure organic to…” She opened her stainless hands. They felt stronger than before. The skin was more even than she remembered. Softer. More elastic. The nails smooth. Almost buffed. No calcium deposits. No scars. No swollen knuckles. No evidence that she’d ever been a fighter. No evidence she’d ever been the person she knew herself to be. “To whatever the fuck this is.”
He shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t do this.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Please don’t do this.”
“Everything that made me who I am is gone.”
“Is that what you think?” He kissed her very gently, over her left eye. “That all you are is a disorder?”
“Branch said I was.”
Hwa sank down to the bed. Looked at the orchid in its glass. The order of the room. Everything clean. Nothing out of place. She was disorder. That was Branch’s whole point. She was the disorder that needed to be ordered. The one hair out of place. The one thing set askew in the plan. That was what set her apart. What made her, in some incredibly fucked-up way, special in their cosmic simulation. A wild card. A black swan. Lightning in a bottle. And for a moment, just knowing that had been enough. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. Even if her life was about to end. All the seizures. All the bullshit. It was all worth it. Just to be the one who stuck it to that bastard. It was the kind of death that deep down she’d always wanted. And now she was alive.
“He said, I’m the only one to make it. That I’m not even supposed to be here. All the others…”
“The others?”
“The other versions of me. In other times, I guess. Other branches of possibility. He said I’m the only one who’s ever made it.”
Daniel reached up. He held her face in his hands. “Then clearly, this is the best of all possible worlds.” He kissed her forehead.
She was about to tease him for being such a sap, but as she drew breath to do so, the door opened. Joel stood there, flanked by Silas, Katherine, and members of his staff. He wore a suit. He looked taller. Broader. How long had it been? What else had changed?
“Miss Go,” he said in measured tones. Hwa’s heart sank. A few weeks without her and he’d become the vessel his father had always wanted. Perhaps Branch really had won. “I think we can continue this conversation later,” he told his siblings. “Silas, can you please tell your people to put that order through?”
“Sure thing,” Silas said.
“Katherine, I want to go over the infrastructure tour, on the Iceland trip,” Joel said. “I need to know who is who. Can we go over that, later, please?”
“Of course,” Katherine told him.
Joel nodded. He smiled pleasantly. “Thank you. You’ve both been a big help lately. I really appreciate it.”
His older siblings shared a look. He was trying so hard. But they weren’t giving him the same stares they had when Hwa first met them. Maybe that had changed, too. After all, he had done them a great favour, unburdening them of their father. The door closed behind Joel, and then it was just the three of them.
His corporate face broke into a huge smile.
Then he ran to Hwa’s bedside. Threw his arms around her. He almost knocked her over. It took her a moment to understand why he was trembling. Joel, the boy who never cried, the boy who had witnessed school shootings and serial murders without tears or frustration, was weeping. Loudly. Hotly. Right into her neck.
“Hush, now, don’t cry, b’y,” she muttered, through her own tears. Her lips found his hair. It very much needed a wash; he’d started using some sort of awful product in it. She kept kissing it anyway. Inhaling the scent of his scalp. His living flesh. She had promised to protect every single hair on his head, and he was healthy and safe; he was the best of his line; he was the first of her students to surpass her, in his own way.
“I thought you might never wake up,” he said.
“Makes two of us,” Hwa said.
“I’ve never been that scared, ever.”
“I know, b’y, I know.”
“You can’t get hurt. Not ever again. I won’t allow it.”
Hwa set her chin on his shoulder. She tested her new smile on the boy’s skin. It was rougher than she remembered. Just the faintest traces of beard were coming in. “Aye. We’ll see about that.” She stroked his back. “Iceland, eh?”
Joel pulled back. He was beaming. “You’ll love it. There are barely any trees.”
“And baths everywhere,” Daniel added.
“If you stay with Lynch, that is,” Joel said. “You are staying with us, right? Hwa? With the company?”
Hwa tilted her head. “And if I said no?”
Joel’s mouth worked. She watched him struggle to put a good face on things. “Then I’d still ask you as my friend,” he said. “Because I think you’d like it. And because I don’t want to be—to travel, I mean—alone.”
Hwa smiled. It was not the best of all possible worlds. Not by a long shot. But it was hers. And she could make it better.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book belongs to a lot of people. First, there is David Nickle, who listened as I talked about it at length, and somehow still wanted to marry me when it was finished. Then there is my agent, Monica Pacheco, who believed in the concept. Then there is Charlie Stross, who first introduced this book to my editors, Patrick Nielsen Hayden and Miriam Weinberg. And naturally there are Patrick and Miriam, who worked hard to make this book as special as we knew it could be.
I also want to thank Cory Doctorow and Kathryn Cramer for their timely career advice (and their patience doling it out), and Jessica Langer, the Atlantic Council, Nesta, Data & Society, and Kate Heartfield for giving me work to do while I worked on this book. Thanks are also due to Neil Clarke and Dave Maass, both of whom allowed me to publish stories from this universe in their anthologies.
Also I want to thank Anthony Townsend, Melissa Gira Grant, Terri-Jean Bedford, Morgan M. Page, Mistress Matisse, Tina Horn, Andrew Nikiforuk, and many others whose writi
ng and advocacy helped me to understand the reality (and the future) of urban planning, sex work, and energy.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MADELINE ASHBY is a science fiction writer and futurist living in Toronto. Her debut series about killer robots, the Machine Dynasty, included vN and its sequel, iD. She has developed science fiction prototypes for organizations, including Intel Labs, the Institute for the Future, Nesta, Data & Society, the Atlantic Council, and others. Since late 2014, she has been a regular columnist for the Ottawa Citizen. You can find her at madelineashby.com. Or sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Part One: September
1. Broken Nose
2. Broken Arm
3. Polio
4. Bruises
5. Silent Seizure
6. Palinopsia
7. Murder
8. Exit Wound
Part Two: October
9. Acoutsina/Nakatomi/Girders/Bentham
10. Viridian/Angel from Montgomery/Nine o’Clock Elevator
11. Emergent
12. Aviation/Metabolist
13. Terra Nova
14. Metabolist/Subspace/LynchLabs/Tower Three
15. Whitechapel/Viridian/Autumn
Part Three: November
16. Daughter
17. Lover
18. Killer
19. Human
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
COMPANY TOWN
Copyright © 2016 by Madeline Ashby
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Erik Mohr
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor ® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-0-7653-8290-0 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-8985-9 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781466889859
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
First Edition: May 2016
Company Town Page 28