To Hold Infinity (22 page)

Later, when Yoshiko lay in her bed, cold and alone, her thoughts might take a darker turn—but for now she was content.

“They're a lovely couple.” Maggie's eyes were sparkling.

“They are, indeed.”

The music sang with a happy up-tempo beat, like a thousand laughing angels.

 

“Sir? Would you like a glass of—Oh.”

Rafael stunned the Fulgida with the force of his smile, and graciously accepted a goblet.

Pleasure swirled in him as he threaded his way among dancers, and found a place by a pillar where he could observe the festivities.

Only the occasional [public vision] flickered into existence—here a cartoonish caricature of another guest, there a bunch of pink roses—and rapidly disappeared. Bad form, after all, to sprinkle conversation with images the non-Luculenti could never see.

There were a hundred and three Luculenti in the room, and a little over thirty Fulgidi riff-raff, such as the two Earther women. Tetsuo's mother, indeed.

Vaguely, throughout the rest of the house, he could sense other Luculenti conversing, dancing, strolling on the lawns: perhaps another hundred of them. There were no business contacts he particularly felt he should talk to. Federico did not appear to have arrived yet.

So, Tetsuo's mother. Just how should he play Yoshiko?

Decision tables scrolled through his imagination, plotting strategies and consequences. Steering clear altogether of Tetsuo's disappearance had some merit, but was too passive: who knew what a proctor investigation might turn up? That an investigation was underway was certain—but why Major Reilly? She was not, he felt, the sort to be working on a simple missing-person assignment.

And, in the SatScan dataseams where few people roamed, there had been NetSprites watching over the scan-logs of Tetsuo's house, waiting to pounce on anyone who attempted to retrieve the images.

Tetsuo, my friend. What have you been up to?

A ghost-Rafael, a NetAngel, chose that moment to manifest itself in Skein. A NewsNet item: in a follow-up to earlier reports, the body of a LuxPrime courier, Adam Farsteen, had been discovered in the grounds of the missing Terran immigrant, Tetsuo Sunadomari.

A LuxPrime courier?

The news item was credited to Margaret Brown, and other NewsNets were picking up on it. Thoughtfully, in Skein, Rafael dissolved his NetAngel.

Perhaps threatening the Earther, Maggie, had been unwise. She must have had help: the news item had all the hallmarks of an exposé which had defied attempted cover-up.

If Maggie and Yoshiko had Luculenti allies, perhaps Rafael should become part of their effort, and plan on getting to Tetsuo before anyone else. Whatever evidence might point to Rafael's uses for mu-space tech would have to be destroyed: on crystal, or in Tetsuo's head.

While he was considering this, normal politics had not ceased: other rooms of his mind plotted the shifting alliances and shady dealings whose existence he extrapolated, with varying degrees of certainty, from the nuances of speech and stance among conversational groupings.

Every Luculentus or Luculenta was aware of their peers' watching them, of course, which raised the bluff and counterbluff to interesting levels of intricacy.

“Look!”

A narrow ribbon of flame shot through the air, and people ducked.

Not a [public vision], Rafael belatedly realized: even unenhanced Fulgidi flinched from the flame's path. But there was no heat.

He looked up, and saw the big holo-projector array suspended at the apex of the great domed ceiling.

Cossack dancers came leaping in, and Rafael gathered from comments around him that this was a repeat performance.

He :

 

<>

 

The dancer he addressed, Arkady Alexeievitch, leaped in time with the other dancers, quite unfazed.

 

<>

Rafael bundled an of the artistic events he was planning, with a promise to Arkady that the young boys in Arbana Garden City were very willing, and the lot.

He disengaged the fast-comm link and watched the rest of the dance until he grew bored, and once more surveyed the Cossacks' audience. They were much more interesting.

Xanthia!

From across the room, that Mona Lisa face tugged at him. Unaware of him, watching the dance, she caused him to moan inside. It was not just a theoretical exercise: he would have to go through with it.

He would loose his infiltration code before a hundred Luculenti, and dare his peers to realize what he had done. Confidence rose in him.

Tonight, my darling Xanthia. Tonight we'll be one, and I shall grant you immortality as I make you part of my extended soul. Extended far beyond the bounds envisaged by my close-minded so-called equals…

A startling thought occurred: that he might reach a new point of criticality, on this night of nights. It was something to examine later.

 

<>

 

He turned to find Lori Maximilian, his hostess, smiling warmly.

But inside, his new idea was urgent. He would need time to think—he was not sure he could construct a sufficiently detailed simulation—but his mind might be on the verge of a cohenstewart discontinuity, a qualitative jump to a different level of complexity: new ways of thinking, new patterns of perception, literally transcending the limits of humankind.

“It's so nice of you to come.”

Lori's voice brought him back to the moment.

“Why, Lori. You look magnificent.”

He spoke with sincerity, absolutely meaning it. For these few seconds, he focussed on her to the exclusion of all else, so that she was truly the most beautiful thing in creation. Even Lori, successful and self-assured, was affected by his attention.

“Thank you, Rafael. I'm glad you're here.” She touched her hair briefly. The stars around her wrist followed the movement.

“The honour's mine…Though what would really please me would be a waltz with you. Perhaps later?”

“Of course. Do you know Xanthia Delaggropos?”

His heart pounded. “Yes, I do.”

“She's leading the Sun-Wheel Dance, and we don't quite have the century.”

She meant, they did not have the full one hundred Luculenti volunteers they needed.

“I fear my talent is too small. Please place me in reserve.”

He was sure that Lori would find enough willing bodies, without having to drag in the half-hearted like himself.

“You're too modest, Rafael. I'm sure Xanthia will be glad to know she has your support, should she need it.”

“Xanthia can count on me.”

He smiled darkly.

 

“I don't know where she is. I haven't seen Xanthia in ages.”

Yoshiko frowned. “She can't be missing. She's got to do this dance thing.”

“Sorry.” Maggie shrugged. “What can I say?”

“Well, she can't have gone far.”

They wandered along a hallway. From a passing drone, Yoshiko picked a chocolate-covered fruit, and bit into it.

“How is that?”

“Sinful.”

“Say, have you ever heard of the Belousov-Zhabotinsky reaction?”

“I'm not sure.”

“At Xanthia's house, I found Jason and Amanda—that's Xanthia's twelve-year-old daughter—sitting on the lawn with a tank full of liquid chemicals, a glass disk floating inside. Watching spirals form inside the liquid.”

“That's interesting.”

“Jason told me they were investigating defect-mediated turbulence.”

“Jason said that?”

“Yeah. It's been a life-changing experience, visiting Xanthia. And Amanda kept an eye out, so that he wouldn't dip a finger in the sulphuric acid, or anything.”

Yoshiko felt suddenly weary. The thought of young lives changing and branching out all around her, perhaps.

“Can we sit down for a moment?”

“Sure.”

They sat on a couch in a corridor, framed between marble statues.

“I wish Ken were here,” Yoshiko surprised herself by saying. “Times like this bring it home.”

“He would have liked this party, would he?”

Yoshiko shook her head. “He'd stand in a corner making sarcastic comments about the other guests.” But she missed his good humour.

The chocolate-covered fruit was still in her hand, but she could not bear the thought of finishing it. She looked around for a disposalmembrane.

“I was in a triune,” Maggie said sadly. “Bryce, my husband, and Marie my cowife, just sealed me out of the marriage. I came back from a long assignment, and Jason was in a public twenty-four-hour crèche waiting for me, and my belongings were in storage at the local transit station. And there was a big payment in my bank account. Guilt.”

“Oh, Maggie. I'm so sorry.”

“That's partly why Jason's so withdrawn, and why I'm so glad to see him coming out of his shell at Xanthia's house.”

A drone was passing, and Yoshiko leaned forward and dumped the chocolate fruit on its back.

“Sorry.”

A fleeting thought: she hadn't seen Septor tonight. Perhaps Lori's relationship was under strain.

“—Oh, right. I forgot to give you this.” Maggie held out a slender black bracelet. “A wrist terminal, a present from Xanthia. She gave me one for each of us, back at her place.”

“That's very kind of her. Er—do you have a tissue?”

“You'd think Luculenti could invent nonmelting chocolate. There you are.”

“Thanks.” Yoshiko wiped her fingers, then accepted the bracelet and slipped it around her wrist. “How do you turn it on?”

“Touch that stud. There.”

Immediately, a tiny figure of Hermes appeared: h-mail (local: a carrier- pigeon would have denoted Terran mail) was waiting.

Yoshiko stabbed the icon with her forefinger, and a flat text unfolded:

PLEASE MEET ME IN THE AVIARY, RIGHT NOW.

…S. STARGONIER.

 

Without any command from Yoshiko, the message erased itself.

“I thought he wasn't invited.”

Maggie frowned. “You can't even know it's from him.”

“I know.” Yoshiko shrugged. “But it's a party, and the house is full. There must be a couple of hundred Luculenti here. This can't be anything dangerous.”

They both stood. Maggie started to walk off, then stopped when she saw that Yoshiko hadn't moved.

“What's wrong? Did you want to talk to him alone?”

“I don't know where the aviary is.”

They walked back to a main corridor, and found a Fulgidus in uniform who was able to help them.

“Through that side-door, and cut across the lawns,” he said. “That's quickest. The aviary's in the next wing.”

Outside, wide steps were a fading grey in the darkness, and a cold wind whipped around them.

As they started to walk, a slight but icy rain began to fall.

“Wait a minute. I've another present from Xanthia.” Maggie fumbled in a pocket, then pulled out a tiny object.

She shook it, and it unfurled to a full-size rain-cape.

“Handy.”

Giggling, the two of them huddled together, holding the cape over their heads. The grass swished wetly under their feet as they walked.

The lawn was very dark. They passed by a small tree, and a clump of rhododendrons.

Suddenly, there was a rustle from the bushes.

Maggie gave a girlish shriek, then sprinted for the lighted entranceway ahead of them, forcing Yoshiko to run with her.

By the time they reached the arched doorway they were whooping with laughter, in between gasping for breath.

“Oh, God,” said Maggie.

She tried to get the cape to fold itself up, but her hand was shaking too much for her to thumb its tabs in the correct sequence.

“Bogeymen in the dark,” said Yoshiko. “
Kami
. Evil spirits. Oh, my word.”

Giggling, they helped each other inside.

“How do we find the aviary?” Maggie asked.

“Listen for squawks, or sniff out droppings.”

“You must be a professional biologist.”

“I used to be.”

The aviary was huge, a rain-forest segueing to mountain pines under a high arched ceiling. Peach and gold light bathed its interior—warm and gentle as a Terran summer evening—belying the cold Fulgor night beyond the building's walls.

Ivy-strewn trees spread a canopy of green above Yoshiko and Maggie. They followed a grassy trail into the very centre of the vast space, to a trellised arbour crouched by a crystal pool. The raucous cries of parrots and the songs of a hundred other species washed over them.

The sheer volume of the noise, in contrast to the night outside, set Yoshiko's nerves on edge.

A confusion of small birds flitted overhead and sat in the branches of surrounding trees and chattered and fought and squawked intensely. A scarlet-breasted robin took possession of a small bush. Above them, a brightly plumed parakeet sailed by.

“So where's Stargonier, then?” asked Maggie.

“I don't know.” Yoshiko looked around.

There were a thousand places a man could hide, and noise enough to hide the footsteps of a dozen men.

“There is only one aviary, isn't there?” asked Maggie.

“As far as I—” Yoshiko stopped.

Beside the white arbour, the air began to shimmer.

“Let's get out of here,” said Maggie urgently.

“No. Wait.”

A man's dim outline appeared in the wavering air, then a hand reaching forward, becoming more solid, beckoning them.

Yoshiko stepped forward, Maggie at her side. She saw Maggie take her small silver video-globe from her pocket.

“No use.” Yoshiko's voice was soft. “That smartfilm will distort any image.”

“At least it will show us disappearing into the smartfilm,” murmured Maggie, as she dropped the globe surreptitiously to the ground, suspensors switched off, its eyes trained on the image of her and Yoshiko walking into the billowing curtain of smartfilm. “In case we never come back.”

A wetness crawled across Yoshiko's skin as she stepped through the smartfilm, and then the sensation passed.

They were inside a glimmering hemisphere, and Sylvester Stargonier was sitting in a low chair, dressed in an elegant white suit with a white brimmed hat, legs casually crossed to show the sharpness of the creases in his trousers. There was a small round table set with a tray of chilled and warm drinks, and two empty chairs.

“Please take a seat,” said Stargonier. “I'm sorry about the precautions. I know they're theatrical—I guess I've been hanging round Luculenti for far too long.”

“That's OK.” Yoshiko frowned. “I thought you weren't on the guest list.”

“Xanthia got me in.” Stargonier held out his hand to Maggie. “I'm Sylvester Stargonier. How do you do?”

Maggie hesitated, then shook his hand. She relaxed slightly, Yoshiko thought, when she felt the grip of Stargonier's hand.

“It's nice to meet you in person, Professor Sunadomari,” Stargonier continued, and shook Yoshiko's hand, as well.

“I'm honoured.”

Yoshiko rubbed her eyes, feeling tired, conscious of the lateness of the hour and the extended length of the Fulgor day.

“We're both honoured.” Maggie's tone was matter-of-fact. “So why did you arrange the theatricalities? And who are you afraid of?”

“It's not fear.” Stargonier gave a slight smile. “It's a healthy sense of self-preservation. You might do well to cultivate it, if you're going to continue your investigation.”

“And what kind of danger are you preserving yourself from?”

“The sort that casually flicks people out of existence, Ms. Brown.” Stargonier uncrossed his legs, and leaned forward earnestly. “Innocent people, in the main.”

“I see.” Maggie sounded unconvinced.

“And,” continued Stargonier, leaning back, “when you retrieve your video-globe, you might want to wipe its memory and its log. In case someone should happen accidentally to deep-scan it, at some point in time.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Stargonier nodded.

“So, Mr. Stargonier,” Maggie continued, “what was it that you must tell us in absolute secrecy?”

“I talked to Tetsuo, shortly before he disappeared.”

Yoshiko, who had been thinking about taking a drink from the table, sat bolt upright, all fatigue banished.

“How was he?” she asked quickly. “Do you know what happened to him?”

“No.” Stargonier shook his head. “I don't know what happened. But I do know he was worried.”

“Right.” Yoshiko bit her lip.

“Worried about what, specifically?” asked Maggie.

“Specifically, I'm not sure. But—” He held up a hand as Maggie started to speak. “—I think he had stolen some info. He was very edgy and, well, security was a speciality of his, and he had some good AI and toolkits for working in the field.”

“Do you mean—?” Maggie looked at Yoshiko. “I'm sorry, but you mean Tetsuo was involved in infotheft? From whom?”

“That's the most important question, but I'm not sure of the answer. However, he did have strong links with Rafael de la Vega, as I'm sure you know.”

Maggie snorted. “So tell us something we don't know.”

“Interesting interviewing technique you have,” said Stargonier. “Or are you only provocative tactically?”

Maggie shook her head, and said nothing.

“OK.” Stargonier smiled. “First, my notion that Tetsuo had stolen some info is not pure intuition. When he and I talked, I had some…decision support software running at the time.”

“You mean psych programs,” said Maggie. “And body scanners.”

Stargonier nodded. “Yes. And a tactical module with predictive frameworks, too. It's standard practice at a certain level of, ah, commerce.”

“You mean,” said Yoshiko, “when you're dealing directly with Luculenti.”

“Exactly.” Stargonier looked at her almost gratefully. “There are layers upon layers of business as well as every other form of transaction or communication, and only a comparative few of us—tens of thousands, a small percentage of the population—have direct commerce with Luculenti.”

“And,” said Maggie, “your software said that Tetsuo was a thief.”

Stargonier looked defensive. “It was based on his predilection for cryptographic problem-solving.”

“But what kind of info?” asked Yoshiko. “And who might he have stolen it from?”

Maggie glanced at Yoshiko, but Yoshiko ignored her.

“Well—” Stargonier hesitated.

“Come on, Mr. Stargonier.” Maggie's voice was soft and reasonable. “There is more than you've told us. Do you know what he stole?”

Stargonier carefully took off his hat, took a silken handkerchief from his breast pocket, and dabbed at his forehead.

“I am not at all certain.” He replaced his hat. “But…when I replayed my last conversation with him, there were reflections in the window behind him. Magnified, I could make out part of the peripheral displays Tetsuo had running.”

Maggie leaned forward. “What was it?”

“For one thing—” Stargonier smiled wryly, “—he was running tactical ware not too dissimilar from my own. For another…Well, the other display was minimized, so when I magnified my log image the resolution was hardly brilliant.”

“And what was it showing?”

“Tetsuo himself was displaying a video log, as code-and-info fragments rather than playing the images. It's very blurred, but—”

The sound of blood rushed in Yoshiko's ears.

“—one of the speakers was identified as Farsteen. The dead LuxPrime courier. If Tetsuo was stealing tech from LuxPrime, then he was in very serious trouble.”

Yoshiko swallowed, unable to speak.

“Mr. Stargonier, do you have your log here?” Maggie asked. “Or can we download from Skein?”

“No, to both questions, Ms. Brown. The only copies are off-line, in crystals hidden at my home.”

“That's a very interesting allegation, Mr. Stargonier.”

Yoshiko looked at Maggie, feeling she had missed a step in the conversation.

“Are you saying,” Maggie continued, “that Skein is insecure?”

Ah. Very astute.
The whole of Fulgidus society rested on Skein's integrity.

“In normal usage, even by Luculenti, it is absolutely secure. At the lowest levels, every object is accessible through a well-defined instruction set, an interface of legal op codes—

“But when you're talking about LuxPrime labs, you're talking about the engineers who manufacture Skein's underlying fabric, and Luculenti VSI tech.”

They considered this in silence. Within the enclosing smartfilm, the air felt quite dead, though the aviary outside was doubtless as raucous as ever.

“Considering the pending connection of Everyware to Skein,” Maggie said, musing, “that's pretty serious.”

“More than that—There are well-circulated rumours that peacekeepers occasionally circumvent privacy laws in SatScan, though that never comes out in court.”

“Peacekeepers?”

“A generic term for proctors and other agencies, such as TacCorps.”

“Hmm.” Maggie was thoughtful. “And they're surveilling lawbreakers only? How about political opponents of, well, the establishment?”

“I'm not sure that term's applicable here. Look, I'm not implying widespread corruption. That's not so. The operations are against criminals, and most people wouldn't object if they knew the facts. I'm just trying to point out that there's a level of covert operations which don't play by the stated rules.”

“Understood,” said Maggie.

“Although—and I'd advise you never to even hint of this in anything you write—there's a rumour that at the centre of TacCorps lies a really hard core, an élite force personally loyal to Federico Gisanthro, that agency's chief.”

“But—” Yoshiko blurted, saw Maggie's warning look, but continued anyway: “He's going to be here, tonight.”

“Xanthia told me.” Stargonier nodded. “You should get to meet him, if you can.”

“But you said—”

“I suspect he's not a nice man,” said Stargomer. “But if anyone has the resources to find out what happened to Tetsuo, it's Federico Gisanthro.”

Yoshiko said nothing, trying to absorb all this information. She looked at the table absently, half-seeing the untouched drinks.

“There's one thing I'm not clear on,” said Maggie.

“What's that, Ms. Brown?”

“Just who you're afraid might have observed us tonight. And, er…I suppose you can call me Maggie.”

“Thank you, Maggie.” A smile flitted across Stargonier's face. “I wouldn't want the proctors or any Luculenti to know about the opinions and suspicions I've just shared with you, about Skein and SatScan. They wouldn't do my position much good, you see.”

LuxPrime
, thought Yoshiko,
might not take adverse publicity lightly.

“Do you have children, Mr. Stargonier?” she asked suddenly.

“Why, yes. Two boys. Why do you ask?”

Sons. If they were ever to have a chance of upraise, their father could not be seen to have criticized LuxPrime. No doubt that was how it worked.

“Because,” Yoshiko lied, “you showed such sympathy. Thank you.”

Maggie frowned impatiently. “We know Tetsuo dealt with Rafael de la Vega. What sort of tech? Do you know?”

“Certainly nothing to do with LuxPrime. Tetsuo works with mu-space comms, as you know. Why Rafael's interested in comms ware, I don't know. Interesting question.”

“Could Rafael be engaged in some illegal activity?”

“Maybe,” said Stargonier. “Maybe something kind of borderline, you know? Mu-space tech is a sensitive area, at the moment.”

“Because of the Skein/EveryWare gateways?”

“Exactly.”

Yoshiko let out a long slow breath. “May I run over what we've learned so far?”

“Go ahead.” Stargonier nodded, as did Maggie.

“Basically, LuxPrime tech's involved. Rafael de la Vega is our only suspect, but has no interest in LuxPrime, so might not have anything to do with it,” said Yoshiko. “And Federico Gisanthro is the man who should investigate.”

“Well—theoretically, yes.” Stargonier rubbed his chin. “But there's a problem. The two of them, Rafael and Federico, are friends, or at least close acquaintances, unlikely though that sounds.”

“Wonderful,” said Maggie.

“On the other hand,” Stargonier continued, “if Rafael were truly mixed up in something, I don't think Federico would let their friendship stand in the way.”

There was a pause while Yoshiko and Maggie thought about this.

Stargonier stood up.

“I think you should rejoin the party now,” he said. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“OK,” Maggie got to her feet. “Thank you very much.”

“Yes,” said Yoshiko. “Thank you for your help.”

“You're both very welcome.”

Stargonier doffed his hat to them.

As they turned to go, he cleared his throat.

“Be careful of Rafael,” he said. “I've had business dealings with him, myself. He's not a man to cross.”