Multireal

by David Louis Edelman

  Silence. Jara expected an objection from Serr Vigal, but the neural programmer remained disturbingly quiet. Horvil merely sat and nibbled on his cuticles, while Merri fidgeted uncomfortably.

  The blonde channel manager folded her hands on the table and screwed up her face like a woman trying to calculate logarithms in her head. "So if we assume that Natch is gone ... and MultiReal is gone ... what do we have left?"

  "Nothing and nothing," said Horvil dejectedly. "After the demo at Andra Pradesh, Natch sold off every last bloody scrap of code we had. Even the RODs. The fiefcorp dock is just ... completely empty."

  "Brilliant," grumbled Ben. "Fucking brilliant."

  "So then should we ... dissolve the company?" asked Merri.

  A hush fell upon the already quiet fiefcorpers. Everyone had heard the stories about apprentices hitched to dead fiefcorps by dint of circumstance. One of Jara's old hivemates had spent three years working for a bio/logic programmer who passed away unexpectedly nine years after founding her company. Fiefcorp tax breaks dried up after a decade; no capitalman would invest in a company so close to its cutoff. Suddenly Jara's friend had found himself with nothing but a portfolio of worthless shares to his name.

  But for the employees of the Surina/Natch MultiReal Fiefcorp, dissolving the company meant much more than just loss of profit. They would probably have to forgo their bio/logic programming equipment and most of their professional relationships. Jara and Merri might have to give up their apartments. In other words, they would all have to start over as if the last three and a half years had never happened.

  "I'm not sure we could legally dissolve the fiefcorp," mused Vigal. "With most of us still suspended by the Meme Cooperative and the masters of the company completely absent ... I think we'd have a difficult time in the courts. The fiefcorp's assets would probably just go into receivership. It might take years for the courts to finally accept that Natch is ... Natch is ..." He couldn't finish the sentence. Gone.

  Horvil slapped the table. "I could buy the company," he blurted out.

  A spark glinted in Merri's eye, but Ben sighed and shook his head. "I don't know. A purchase that big-you couldn't manage that without clearance from my mother, and you know she'd never approve. No, don't start, Horvil. We couldn't afford it alone. Even if we both pooled all our liquid assets, I don't think we have the money."

  "Some of Khann Frejohr's allies have been pushing for reparations," said Merri. "They're demanding that we get compensation if the Prime Committee tries to compel us to turn over MultiReal."

  "And what chance do you think that has of working?" asked Horvil, chin planted in hand. "One in a million?"

  "Listen, money isn't the problem," said Jara. "We've got plenty of credits sitting in the company coffers. Margaret Surina's money."

  "You mean, Jayze and Suheil Surina's money," Ben retorted. "You know that those sleazeballs are going to come after it. They already laid the groundwork by having her declared mentally incompetent before she died. The next thing they do is say that Margaret was unstable when she entered into her partnership with Natch. Don't tell me that's going to be too hard to prove."

  Jara shook her head. "I'm not worried about Jayze and Suheil getting hold of the fiefcorp's money. The problem is that we can't get ahold of it. Not as individuals. What I'm saying is that even if we could dissolve the company, we can't just split up the Vault account five ways. What we can do is spend it-as a fiefcorp." She stood up from her chair, leaned over, and pressed her clenched fists onto the tabletop. "Listen, we don't have enough bio/logic code left in our dock to build a product base on. And starting over from scratch isn't really feasible, right? So let's use that money. Let's approach some of the bigwigs on Primo's and offer to buy a portfolio of their programs."

  There was a moment of quiet contemplation. Given the idiosyncratic nature of bio/logic programming, it usually wasn't worth the effort to cobble together a product line from the remnants of someone else's code. It wasn't unusual for a fiefcorp to purchase one or two pro grams to round out their own offerings, but to build a company from the ground up this way was a risky move at best.

  "Which bigwigs did you want to approach?" said Merri.

  "Lucas Sentinel," replied Jara. "Bolliwar Tuban. Pierre Loget and Billy Sterno, if they ever show up again."

  Ben spoke up. "I thought you and Sentinel didn't get along. Do you think he'd sell us anything but the dregs?"

  "Probably not," Jara admitted. "Given all the animosity Natch has built up in this industry over the years, I'm sure a lot of people are just waiting to take their revenge too. Even if Natch isn't around to see it. But it seems to me that this is our best option-unless the Prime Committee votes in our favor."

  "It's too late for that," said a voice.

  The SeeNaRee instantly evaporated into nothingness, leaving the fiefcorp sitting in a conference room that was even duller and more antiseptic than the virtual one Jara's mood had conjured up. Standing by the door was Magan Kai Lee, flanked by his proteges Papizon and Rey Gonerev.

  "The Prime Committee just voted an hour ago to seize MultiReal and hand it over to the Defense and Wellness Council," said Magan. "Eighteen to five."

  Jara was sick of Defense and Wellness Council agents popping up everywhere she went. She was tired of opening doors and rounding corners to find the placid, emotionless face of the lieutenant executive. How had he managed to get into this room without Jara's authorization? How had he managed to get into this building, for that matter? The analyst thought it was probably better not to know.

  Jara took a few steps closer to the Council officers and extended her finger into prime wagging position. "Listen, Lieutenant Executive," she spat, "I don't know what kind of shit Len Borda's trying to pull here-"

  "We're trying," said the Blade, "to protect you from Len Borda."

  The analyst closed her mouth and plopped back down in her seat.

  "The world is on the brink of crisis," continued Magan. "What happened at the Tul Jabbor Complex is only the beginning. The Data Sea's buckling under the strain of these infoquakes. Computational resources are disappearing; people are dying. The Islanders and the Pharisees are marshaling their forces for war." He recited these calamities with the detachment of a man reading from a speech handed to him by a subordinate moments ago. "The Council has more pressing things to deal with than pursuing a vendetta against your fiefcorp. So we're prepared to offer you one last deal."

  Jara let out a scornful laugh that took everyone in the room by surprise. Papizon visibly flinched. "A deal?" cried Jara. "What kind of deal could you possibly offer us? We don't have anything you want, and we wouldn't take anything you offered."

  "Don't play ignorant with us," said Rey Gonerev, stepping forward with the triumphant look of a card player unveiling a winning hand. "We're perfectly aware that Natch gave you core access to the MultiReal databases. But Borda doesn't know that, which is the only reason you're still alive."

  Jara snorted. "So? That core access is useless. Natch moved the fucking databases. We have no idea where they are."

  The Blade stopped short and blinked hard in shock. For once she seemed at a loss for words.

  Magan, however, did not appear to be surprised by this sudden turn of events. "All we're asking is that you help us track Natch down. In return, we'll persuade the Meme Cooperative to drop all its charges against you. You'll be given clean slates in the bio/logic sector and the freedom to find new apprenticeships if you wish. We'll compensate you for any losses you've incurred." He turned to gaze at each of the fiefcorpers in turn, finally stopping to bestow an especially vivid look in Jara's direction. "Refuse to help us, and I can't predict what Len Borda will do. He's capricious enough to drag everyone off to join the Islander in prison, or just do away with the lot of you. With the infoquakes still in full swing, nobody's going to stop him. I doubt hiding at a fancy estate with a pack of drudges on the doorstep will hinder him this time."

  "Don't try to pretend you give a shit
," said Jara, shaking her head. "You don't care about us, or about Natch. I saw what happened at the Tul Jabbor Complex. You want MultiReal so you can unseat Len Borda as high executive. You want to use it to take over the Defense and Wellness Council."

  Magan Kai Lee let out a sigh, and for only the second time in their brief acquaintance Jara saw the cracks in his poise and equanimity. "I don't want anyone in the Council to use MultiReal," he said. "I want the program in private hands. But not under Natch's control. I want MultiReal under your control, Jara."

  "But ... why?"

  "Because you're the only one I trust with it."

  Jara reacted as if the lieutenant executive had slapped her. Magan Kai Lee trusted her? All along, she had assumed Magan wanted MultiReal in her hands because she was the weak one, the easily manipulable one. But what if the exact opposite were true? Was it possible that the lieutenant executive had worked to get Natch suspended from the fiefcorp because she was the strong one? Because she was the one most capable of standing up to both Natch and Len Borda?

  She surveyed the faces of her fellow fiefcorpers. Merri seemed crestfallen and distraught. Benyamin's upper lip was visibly quivering with anger. Serr Vigal looked like he was on the verge of retreating back to Omaha and never returning. Horvil's attention had floated off into the distance, and Jara knew he was probably thinking about the job offer he had received through his Aunt Berilla.

  But then they turned as a group to look at Jara, and she saw something she did not expect. For the first time since the Council turned their company upside-down, the fiefcorp had confidence in her. They trusted in her leadership.

  Jara pushed her chair back, stood up from the table, and marched slowly toward the Council lieutenant. Papizon's left hand flexed instinctively on the pommel of his dartgun, but he quickly restrained the impulse. Jara stopped when she was toe to toe with Magan Kai Lee and looked him straight in the eye.

  "Maybe you trust me," seethed the analyst through clenched teeth, "but do you think I trust you? You tried to break up this company through lies and mistrust. By dragging their professional careers through the mud and leaving mine intact." She extended a finger back toward the apprentices and Vigal. "You did everything you could to convince them I sold out to the Council, when you knew perfectly well that I refused to make a deal with you."

  The lieutenant executive's split-second downward glance was as good as an admission of guilt, as far as Jara was concerned.

  "But you know what, Magan? You've failed. Utterly failed.

  "Ever since this whole thing started, you've been trying to tear this fiefcorp apart. You dredged up dirt on us, you raided our homes, you disrupted our operations, you sullied our reputations. You dragged our chief engineer off to prison on bogus charges. And what do you have to show for it? Nothing. This company has clawed its way back from the edge, millimeter by millimeter. We're well on our way to resolving our cases with the Meme Cooperative, and soon we'll be back where we started.

  "You don't have Natch. You don't even have MultiReal.

  "And the beautiful thing? The program's totally gone. We have no way of getting in touch with Natch. None of us have any idea where he is. You should have known from the very beginning that Natch would be a step ahead of you-he always is. He's probably halfway to Mars or Furtoid by now, and you'll never find him. Do you hear me? You will never find Natch. And if nobody can find Natch, nobody can get their hands on MultiReal, can they?

  "So take your fucking flunkies and never interrupt one of our meetings again. You've done your worst, and we're still here. Whatever you're planning, we don't want any part of it.

  "The answer is no."

  A wrinkle appeared in the space between Lee's eyebrows as he took stock of the situation. Papizon's face contorted into some bizarre emotion resembling panic. Finally Magan gave the slightest of nods, turned, and walked out the door, followed closely by Papizon.

  Rey Gonerev stayed behind for a few seconds. She threw Jara a smile-unvarnished and unironic, possibly even with a morsel of respect thrown in-and then she too was gone.

  45

  Magan Kai Lee sat in the back of a Defense and Wellness Council hoverbird practicing his meditation. He straddled the threshold of nonself, peering into the anterooms of Enlightened Harmony with the Universe, his consciousness a fleeting thing, a wriggling thread-

  And then Rey Gonerev spoke, causing consciousness to come roaring back like a vengeful beast.

  "If you want me to stay with you," said the Blade, "I'm going to need more information." She sounded weary, skeptical. Perhaps a little afraid. Her fingers were busy unbraiding and then rebraiding dark locks of hair over and over again.

  Magan took a glance out the window to get his bearings. The Earth was far below them and almost completely carpeted with cloud. He could see three of their fighter escorts out the starboard window, and had no doubt he would find the other three if he looked to port. "What information?" he said.

  "You can start by telling me where we're going."

  "The orbital colony of Allowell," said Magan. "There to rearm and regroup."

  Pause. "And then?"

  "We find Natch."

  Rey Gonerev quietly worked on untangling a knot in her hair for a minute. Magan suspected she was still smarting from the way Natch had sized her up and shoved her aside at the Kordez Thassel Complex a few weeks ago. But Magan had made no move to reassure her, either then or now. She would need to exorcise that demon if she intended to continue as his right-hand woman when he took the high executive's seat. "How do you propose we find him?" she said.

  "The fiefcorp master is a wanted man, Rey. His Vault account has been locked down. His license with the Meme Cooperative is still suspended. All of his friends and acquaintances are under surveillance. Every drudge on the Data Sea knows his picture and identifying characteristics. If Natch so much as steps on a public tube train, we'll know. The challenge isn't finding him. The challenge is finding him before Len Borda does."

  Rey Gonerev frowned. "And what-what if Natch is dead?"

  "He's not."

  The Blade reached for the side of the hoverbird and steadied herself against it. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

  The other fiefcorpers cut their multi connections and went home, but Jara was not quite ready to face the existential blankness of her empty walls. Instead she threaded her way through the corridors of the Surina Enterprise Facility and found the double doors that would lead her out to the courtyard. Her heart was pounding at a tempo that might have been appropriate for one of Geronimo's mocha grind songs.

  The crowds had returned to the Surina complex, spurred by a temporary lull in the winter weather. A corpulent sun sat in the sky, announcing that spring was right around the corner. Tourists were streaming in and out of the Center for Historic Appreciation again, and Jara saw that the Albert Einstein and Isaac Newton statues had been shouldered aside to make way for a new monument to Margaret Surina. Half a dozen couples stood in the center of the courtyard with arms around one another, some staring up at the Revelation Spire, some staring down at the engraved plaque marking the bodhisattva's burial place. "I don't care about the strikes and the infoquakes and the unrest," Jara heard someone say. "I'm not going to let that rule my life."

  The analyst found her way to the railing, where she could see the city of Andra Pradesh laid out before her feet. She prived herself to all communication and let her skin absorb the sun's energy.

  As soon as Magan Kai Lee had left the meeting, it occurred to Jara that she had unilaterally rejected his offer without so much as a ConfidentialWhisper to the rest of the fiefcorp. Certainly the obstinate Benyamin would have backed her up, but Merri? Vigal? Horvil? She could imagine a hundred reasons why they might have leapt at the lieutenant executive's offer. A chance to restore their careers and their business credentials all in one shot. A chance to leap back into the bio/logics game without penalty, and all they had to
do in return was help track down a man who had scorned and abandoned them anyway. At the very least, someone might have objected to the way Jara made such a major choice about their lives and careers without consulting them. Imperious decision making seemed almost ... Natchlike.

  But then Jara realized she was not running a democracy.

  She was running a business.

  Did she think she could just flee from everything Natch stood for and still run a successful fiefcorp? Life wasn't cut into such predictable shapes. For all his failings, Natch had led his company from complete obscurity to the height of the Primo's bio/logic investment guideand he had done it quicker than anyone else in history. There were good things to be salvaged from any boss who could do that. Her job as the new leader of the Surina/Natch MultiReal Fiefcorp was to take the good ideas, to reject the bad ideas, and most importantly, to pound her fist on a tabletop and make the firm determination which ideas belonged where. Jara could scarcely believe it, but in the past few weeks she had discovered that she had this ability.

  She thought about the looks the fiefcorpers had given her before cutting their multi connections. Merri, Horvil, Benyamin, and Serr Vigal had regarded her not with admiration or awe or thankfulnessbut simply with respect. Jara was their leader now, and they accepted that.

  Jara called up ConfidentialWhisper and fired off a message to the rest of the team.

  "Everyone get some rest today," said the fiefcorp master. "We've got a lot of work to do to get this company back on track. And we start first thing tomorrow morning."

  APPENDIXES

  APPENDIX A

  A SYNOPSIS OF

  INFOQUAKE

  Natch is an entrepreneur with a burning ambition. He simply can't define what it is.