Escape Velocity: The Anthology (36 page)

       “
So,” she said. “You have a little problem, don’t you?” She smiled that knowing smile and the first words I’d heard her say came back to me.
Screw the circuit judge.

       “
I have a proposal,” she said.

They put me in yet another cell. It was exactly the same as the first one. The only reason I knew it was different was the silver wasn’t as faded. It was like being in a room full of mirrors.

      
Bell was the first to join me.

       “
She make you a proposal?” he said.

       “
Uh-huh.”

       “
And?”

       “
And what? I agreed, of course. You?”

       “
No choice,” he said.

      
She wanted to get down as badly as the rest of us. She was just being a little bit more clever and subtle about it than us.

       “
It’s got to be Roach,” Bell said.

      
I nodded. It was why she’d put the two of us back together first. Roach would know it, too. Even without the opportunity for Bell and I to form an alliance he would have known it. He was the weak one.

       “
Is it true what she said?” I asked. “About the air not working anyway.”

      
He looked at me for a long time as if debating whether or not to share a deep secret. “Does it matter? Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it’s just a placebo. What does matter is that
they
believe it works. And that’s no different to any drug. If you believe in it and it does what you want it to do then it works.”

       “
But then we could have sold them anything.”

      
He smiled and there was just enough of a pause before he answered that I knew he hadn’t been wholly up front with me.

       “
I guess we could have,” he said.

      
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him whether or not he’d been planning to cut the air with something but then the door opened and Roach shuffled in.

      
He’d been crying. His eyes were red, his skin white.

       “
She made me a proposal,” he said.

      
Bell and I nodded.

       “
She said if I agreed to pay her ten thousand…if we
all
agreed to pay her ten thousand then she’d settle for convicting just one of us.”

      
We nodded again.

       “
I don’t get it,” he said.

      
There were sweat rings beneath his armpits. His hair was damp. He smelled… scared. I wondered if he’d been sick. If someone was right now swabbing out a silver room with disinfectant.

       “
They have to balance the books,” I said.

       “
I…I mean…”

       “
Someone’s got to pay,” Bell said. “For the crime.”

       “
But she’s going to let two of us get away with it?”

      
Bell smiled. “Looks that way,” he said, and I couldn’t help noticing that now he was even more relaxed than at any other time since we’d been arrested. It was almost like a script he’d written was being played out to perfection.

The sentence was simple: whatever we feared losing the most was what we’d forfeit. Roach said that she’d told him this, and the way he spoke it was almost like it was news to him.

       “
You knew that anyway,” Bell said. “That’s what it always is up here. Anything less and there’d be anarchy. If it was just about money then there’s people up here who’d get away with…well, anything they want.”

       “
You told me we’d be safe,” Roach said, his voice quiet now, his shoulders slumped. In the silver walls I could see an almost infinite number of Roaches getting smaller and smaller and smaller. He looked like he’d be trapped in those walls forever.

       “
And what do you fear losing the most?” I asked him.

      
He looked across at me, but it was Bell that spoke.

       “
For him it
is
money. Ain’t that right, kid?”

       “
I’d have had enough,” Roach said. “I’ve skimped and I’ve saved and I’ve worked every hour of overtime they ever offered. I’d have had enough in eight or nine years.” He shook his head. “But that seemed like an eternity. That’s why I did it. If they take all my money…” A solitary tear spilled from his left eye and rolled down his cheek.

       “
How about you?” Bell said. Then added, “ Don’t tell me: your memories. Your memories are the most important thing you have.”

      
I nodded. The woman had been right. There’d be no way I’d ever get a big enough stake together to go down, so a polishing was all I could dream of. Red kites, green rivers, and silver fish. It had been worth the risk. One last shot at making them clear again. “And you?”

      
He raised his hand. His one good hand. No words were necessary.

       “
Who’s it to be?” Roach said.

I saw Bell three months later. He’d told me to leave it that long just to be on the safe side. He was standing behind the counter in his bar, right arm pushed into his pocket, talking furtively to an older man who had pale skin, bright clothes, and a look of longing in his eyes.

      
After his conversation had finished Bell motioned me through the bar and into a back room. The silver walls had been masked with black drapes.

       “
I have money for you,” he said.

       “
For what?”

       “
Let’s just say some of the shipment made it through. More than enough to cover her bribe. A little left over, too”

      
It didn’t come as a surprise to me. I knew things had never been quite what they’d seemed and I instinctively knew there was an honour amongst this particular thief, too.

      
He took his right arm from his pocket. There was a hand on the end of it now. That did come as a surprise to me.

       “
It’s easy enough to do,” he said. “Off. On. Off again. On again. Given money, of course. Let’s face it, who would ever agree to a man’s only hand being severed?”

      
It all finally fell into place. Roach had been the weakest of us, but he’d also been the best. He’d have never taken a man’s only hand or his only memories of being down; not even if it meant his own hell became real. I’m not sure I’d have been that honourable. But I understood now that’s why Bell had selected Roach as the third investor.

       “
You knew we’d be caught.”

       “
I had an idea,” he said. “Her name’s Helga. She just wants to get down, too. We have an agreement on certain things.”

      
I shook my head in disbelief.

      
He smiled, turned his back on me, and from a silver cabinet pulled out a thick envelope. He handed it to me. There was a lot of money in there.

       “
Jeez,” I said.

       “
People think real air’s going to cure all their problems,” he said. “It’s amazing how much they’ll pay to get it brought up.”

      
I was still staring at all that money. “And Roach?” I said, looking up.

“
What about Roach?”

       “
With this we could have paid his fine for him. There’s almost enough -”

       “
There never was a fine, Herschel. Helga got her thirty thousand. We’ve got ours.”

      
I felt stupid. I shook my head.

       “
Roach paid his part of the bribe same as you and me,” Bell said.

       “
But his punishment wasn’t a fine?”

       “
Running real air up here? Think of the risks. There’s no bigger sin, Herschel.”

      
I had a vague recollection that it had been Bell – not Roach – who had suggested that money was what Roach feared losing the most.

       “
Where is he then?” I asked.

      
He held his hands out in a who-knows gesture. I still couldn’t get used to seeing him with two hands.

       “
It’s a big universe out there,” he said.

      
I shook my head. It was too cruel. It was too –

       “
Down
,” he said.

       “
What?”

       “
You were thinking of a polishing. The amount you’ve made. The amount you could make. You might want to start thinking about going down, instead.”

      
I went to say something but my heartbeat seemed to fill my throat. For a moment I had a very clear memory of silver fish. Crystal clear.

       “
That fellow you saw out there,” Bell said. “He’s in his forties and hasn’t been down for over twenty years. His memories – and his finances - are shot to pieces but he’s prepared to get a stake together for a deal I’ve put to him. I was wondering…”

      
Bell looked me right in the eyes and smiled knowingly. “Do you want in?” he said.

Free Market

Gavin J. Carr

“
Honey Jacks are sugar sweet, the tasty treat that’s good to eat! Kids and grown-ups love them so, the wholesome snack that’s good to go...”

      
An idiot cacophony. Over and over, the crowd chanted the words as though it were a litany, an affirmation of their deepest beliefs.

       “
Honey Jacks are sugar sweet, the tasty treat that’s good to eat...”

As he looked at their faces, he was overcome by vertigo. Yarrow Harkins — 22
^nd
century historian and explorer — felt sick. Here he was at the apex of his career, the first historian to travel in time, to ancient Egypt no less, and yet something was very wrong.

       “
Honey Jacks are sugar sweet, the tasty treat that’s good to eat...”

Two Weeks Previously

Conference room three. The UTC building. Forty floors of smoked glass and chrome penetrating the smog like a Satanist cathedral.

      
There were twenty people around the conference table; Yarrow was the only one not wearing a suit.

       “
How long?” shouted Braun, his face scarlet with indignation, his jowls flapping in the cool conditioned air.

       “
Three months,” said White. He looked bored and unimpressed by Braun’s outburst.

       “
We were under no obligation to tell you we were doing it,” he said. “To be frank, Mr Braun, I didn’t want to inform the government at all.”

       “
You didn’t want to inform the government?”

       “
No, if it weren’t for my lawyers then I wouldn’t have. However, it seems that under the Trade Monopolies Act I have to inform you eventually. As a courtesy, you understand. The government has no authority to stop the project.”

It was the wrong thing to say. To remind the government’s head of trade and industry that he had no power and no authority. The United Trade Conglomerate ruled the world, generated the power, grew the food, and purified the water. The government was a squatter on UTC territory — living rent-free and at their whim.

      
Braun shook a ham-hock fist. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this! You mean to say that you’ve built a time machine — a goddamn time machine — and you weren’t going to inform us? Three months you’ve had this thing. Didn’t you think this could have consequences? I won’t allow it!”

      
White looked down at his feet, at the Italian shoes that he knew would have cost Braun a month’s wages. He was smirking. It made him look like a naughty schoolboy waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “Actually it’s gone a bit further than that,” he said. “We’re past the prototype phase and we’ve already carried out a number of missions.”

      
Braun sat down hard. The fight seemed to have gone out of him. He looked frightened and stunned, deflated.

      
Another man stood up and cleared his throat, “If I might say a few words. Yarrow Harkins, Mombasa University. Mr Braun asked me along as an observer. I’m head of the History Department.”

      
Heads nodded in acknowledgement.

       “
I’m no physicist,” said Harkins, “but isn’t there a risk of creating a paradox? Isn’t going back changing the future?”

      
A bald-headed man rose shakily to his feet. He unfolded a pair of spectacles and balanced them on his nose. “Doctor Milson, UTC Research and Development,” he said. “I’ve been on the project since the start and I assure you no risk of paradox. We take precautions. The civilizations we encounter are carefully vetted. We only approach those who are already cosmopolitan, and used to trade with other peoples. The goods we exchange are sufficiently advanced that there’s no risk of their reproducing them. Luxury goods, items which will generate the profits our shareholders demand and yet won’t alter the rate of the civilization’s evolution. We even ensure that the goods are biodegradable. No trace will ever remain.”

      
Now it was Harkin’s turn to be stunned. He could feel his jaw hanging open. “You’re
trading
with them?” he said, “You’re trading with people from the
past
? Are you insane?”