Slabscape : Reset Page 11

  ‘You look like a floating head,’ he looked down, ‘being followed around by a pair of mirrored shoes’.

  ‘Yeah, it’s advisable to wear some conspicuous footwear if you don’t want to keep getting stepped on. I’m not sure about them though. Do you think they make my feet look big?’

  ‘I don’t think they make your feet look anything. All I can see are reflections. Come on, let’s get a drink.’ He put his arm around her slender back and moved her over to an empty couch. She started giggling.

  ‘What’s funny?’

  ‘I just thought. If you wanted to do something naughty, you could do it in plain sight and no-one would notice. Your hand would just disappear.’

  That opened up a few other possibilities too, thought Dielle. He raised an eyebrow and grinned.

  Kiki was shocked. ‘Not at a presidential party!’

  Dielle considered doing something that might increase her shock factor and looked around to see if anyone was watching. He found himself staring into the almond eyes of a sylph who had appeared behind them. This one, though, was most definitely a female, thought Dielle. Almost definitely.

  ‘We have Slab’s premier mix-masters on call tonight for our guests,’ it said. ‘Would you like to sample a mix or would you prefer your own creation?’

  ‘Are the Epoxile Kids mixing tonight?’ Kiki asked eagerly.

  ‘Yes, they’re available but running on a 5-10 minute delay. We have Elixir Five and Harry’s Bar too and they’re not so busy.’

  ‘That’s OK, we’ll have two large EK specials. We’ll wait.’

  ‘Done. I’ve ordered you a tasting set, too, that’ll be here right away. You are aware of your invites, Madam? I assume you need no intros.’

  Kiki waived her hand dismissively at the sylph who bowed gracefully and departed.

  ‘Oh, I love proper parties!’ said Kiki, rubbing her hands together with glee and causing a minor visual disturbance. She reached down and pulled out a tray of delicious-looking titbits. She put her invisible hand on his lap which gave him another idea. ‘Now let me fill you in on the protocol for meeting the president because we’ve just had a request for a full meet and greet in 40 minutes and it’s not going to be embargoed, which is unusually magnanimous. The president can be a sweetie when he chooses to be; it just doesn’t happen that often.’

  ‘How do you mean, not embargoed?’

  ‘It means I can syndicate it right away, darling. We’re going to get top ratings on this. We’ll make a pile!’

  ‘So meeting the president will make us money?’

  ‘Yes, hang on a second, I’m just negotiating distribution.’ Her face went blank, and since that was all he could see of her, he looked around for something else to occupy his visual cortex while he queried Sis about Faith-Sincere. Sis confirmed that she held a significant amount of personal information about Ms Van Darwin but that almost none of it was available to him, due to the extraordinary high level of personal privacy protection Faith-Sincere had in place.

  {[So what can you tell me?]}

  [[I can confirm that she is now aware that you have queried her dataprofile]]

  Dammit! thought Dielle, furious that he’d made such a basic error. {[How much more of this type of stuff do I have to learn about?]}

  [[~?]]

  {[Forget it. Can I access someone’s profile without them knowing?]}

  [[Not legally]]

  {[You mean it’s possible, but not allowed?]}

  [[I mean it is not allowed]]

  {[Then why not say that instead of ‘not legally’? If something wasn’t possible then you wouldn’t need to say it wasn’t allowed would you?]}

  [[But it isn’t allowed]]

  Dielle frowned. As young as he was, he knew when he was being firewalled.

  He spotted a suave, immaculately dressed man lounging in the next island, surrounded by an eager and boisterous crowd of pretty young flings, most of whom were vying for his attention. He didn’t seem to be interested in anyone but Kiki, who had turned her longaze away the moment she’d focused on him.

  Dielle couldn’t let that pass without comment. ‘There’s a guy next door staring at you.’ he said, gently nudging Kiki in her invisible ribs.

  ‘I know, darling, he’s being very rude. I have already refused to make iContact with him. He’s contravening the rules of the smooze.’

  Dielle was experiencing an odd, new sensation. Something about this guy rattled his confidence. ‘Do you know each other?’

  Kiki broke off from whatever she was doing and gave him a small smile. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Follow this.’

  [[Burst ex-K S-M Pundechan]]

  {[What?]}

  [[Options: deliver/hold/trash/report/more]]

  {[More? More what?]}

  [[precis/syndicate/publish/compare/validate/tracesource

  /broadcast/encrypt/forwardto/anon-forwardto/copyto/blind-copyto/blacklist/data-mine/translate-to/translate-from/Fourier-transform/pattern-analyse]]

  {[STOP!]} Jeez, he thought, remind me not to ask that again.

  [[••]]

  {[Give me a brief outline of whatever Kiki just sent]}

  [[Burst precis follows]]

  ‘A professional criminal?’ Dielle stage-whispered, trying hard not to look at the guy and failing badly.

  The EK specials arrived in the local emti. Kiki floated a glass of vertically striped, fluorescent green and yellow liquid over to him.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘A notorious scam-master. One of the best there’s ever been.’

  He took a tentative sip of the luminous drink. Kiki watched his reaction.

  ‘Wow!’ said Dielle. ‘That’s amazing! It felt like my mouth exploded in five different places at the same time and each one tasted different.’ He took a mouthful and his face lit up again. ‘Same effect, different tastes!’

  ‘I love the Epoxile Kids,’ said Kiki between sips. ‘They’re the best mixers onSlab.’

  Dielle motioned toward the crook with his eyes and lowered his voice. ‘So how come he’s here? And what does he want with you?’

  ‘He’s here for the same reason you are, dear. He’s a celebrity. Only he’s in dire need of a new manager seeing as his last one just got zeroed for ripping him off.’

  ‘Sis said he was the most sumed crook onSlab. I don’t understand.’

  ‘He’s very good at what he does, a true artist, but I think he’s losing it. His last job was a heist of such complexity that he’d lost half his sumers by the end of the set-up. It’s typical of these guys. They get so into what they’re doing that only other crooks can appreciate the artistry. That game is about popularism and keeping it quick and simple. I told him all this, but he won’t listen.’

  ‘So he wants you to manage him and you’ve turned him down?’ Dielle felt relieved for several different reasons.

  ‘There’s no money in it.’ said Kiki, taking another sip.

  The neighbouring island had just received their order of EK specials and turned to Kiki and Dielle with their glasses raised. There was a chorus of ‘The First!’ and then the master crook added with a respectful nod of his head: ‘And hopefully not the last, eh?’ His phoney coterie fell about laughing.

  ‘Oh darling!’ said Kiki. ‘You’ve only been here five days and you’ve invented a catch-phrase already!’ She kissed him on the cheek. ‘You know, you’ll get royalties whenever anyone onSlab says that now.’

  ‘I will? Seemed a kind of obvious thing to say.’

  ‘I’ll fill you in on how it all works tomorrow, darling. Let’s go and talk to a few people I want you to meet.’ She floated up, following her glass. Even though everything was still very strange, somehow Dielle didn’t feel so out of place anymore. Alcohol, he thought: anaesthesia for the restless masses. Then he wondered where that thought came from.

  They moved between groups, exchanging pleasantries with an endless series of names and faces, all of whom Kiki either knew personally or knew a lot about. Dielle tried to keep
up with what was being said, while querying Sis for details on who he was talking to. He had a hard time juggling the internal conversation with the external ones. Sis fed him new words and concepts which he didn’t understand and those led him further down enquiry lines which inevitably led to even more, while he simultaneously tried to answer questions about his first impressions of life onSlab and what being frozen for 360 years was like. After another EK Special (which tasted entirely different from the first one but was, if anything, even better) and three realtime conversations interspersed with Sis responses, his head was reeling. He took Kiki to one side.

  ‘I can’t keep up,’ he said. ‘Is that guy I just spoke to a religious nut or a scientist? I couldn’t understand what Sis was feeding me while he was going on about not knowing what our real vector is.’

  ‘Ignore him darling, he’s a Rellie.’ She moved closer to him and lowered her voice. ‘Which kind of makes him both a religious nut and a scientist. I’d advise you not to query Sis too much while you’re talking to people; everyone can tell when you’re doing it and it’s considered impolite. And in any case, unless you are really skilled at handling multiple data streams, it will dice with your head.’ He felt her invisible hand behind his back guiding him to an exit corridor. ‘Sis will automatically keep a record of all your interactions and you can browse stuff later if you like. Try telling Sis to go into basic like-to-know mode and then she’ll only ping you with important stuff as you need it.’

  {[Sis? Can you go into basic like-to-know mode please?]}

  [[Your interest and tendency behavioural heuristograms are still immature]]

  {[What does that mean?]}

  [[I don’t know what you like to know about yet. There haven’t been sufficient interactions for me to build accurate prediction algorithms tuned to your personality and preferences]]

  {[That’s OK]}

  [[It is possible that information you might consider important will not be provided]]

  {[So?]}

  [[Standard life disclaimer applies]]

  {[OK, just do it, OK?]}

  [[••]]

  He laughed out loud.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Kiki, amused.

  ‘I think I just had my first argument with Sis.’

  ‘Oh, she’ll get over it, I’m always arguing with her. Of course, it’s totally pointless.’

  ‘Because she’s always right?’

  Kiki looked at him, momentarily sober and serious. ‘Darling, don’t believe everything you hear or everything you think you hear or everything you think you think.’

  He didn’t yet know just how good that advice was.

  ‘Including that?’

  ‘Including that. Come on, we can’t keep the president waiting.’

  Dielle followed Kiki’s bobbing head down a corridor to a pulsating blue transvex that led to a hexagonal room with vexes on each wall. The one to their right hilighted so they stepped through it, turning right, then right again through an archway. Dielle’s spatial awareness was jangling as they walked into the presidential suite.

  The reception rotunda had been designed under the personal supervision of the incumbent. Local information prefs were set to impress, so wherever Dielle looked, detailed information flowed into his head.

  The circular walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases inset with arched alcoves.

  [[5,520Kg African mahogany: origin Indonesia, Earth/2,748 molecular-film-protected paper-based books : oldest 576 Earth-years/nearest alcove: 17th-century brass optical telescope, original J.E. Buttersworth oil painting, original J. Harrison H5 Chronometer, silverclone of 2105 America’s Cup [more]]]

  Stairs led down to a reception area with a dark-wood floor inlaid with an elaborate compass rose.

  [[Oak flooring salvaged from keel of 16th-century Spanish galleon, Urca de Lima, currently moored in UpSide Seacombe Maritime Museum/parquetry: rosewood, burr walnut, Slab-grown mother-of-pearl, Natalite [more]]]

  Brass glowglobes hovered beside simulated-leather sofas. A complex clockwork machine with copper-coloured spheres sat in the centre on a low, glass table. A detailed illustrated map lay beneath the glass.

  [[Hand-drawn 18th-century chart depicting then-known navigable seas of Earth/early 19th-century orrery of major planets and moons of Sol system: Note - Neptune undiscovered, orrery not to scale [more]]]

  Dielle walked down to the lower level and stepped on a rug.

  [[Handmade Mughal hunting rug, 18th century Earth]]

  ‘Jeez!’ he said, jumping off. ‘Handmade?’

  ‘Handmade for feet, mate!’ said a gruff voice from above. ‘Gawan! Take your boots off and feel the quality. Handmade by fucking virgins I reckon!’

  Dielle looked up. What he’d mistaken for a mirrored ceiling, wasn’t. The room above looked identical except for the old, weather-beaten guy sitting in one of the green leather couches, looking down, or rather up, at him.

  ‘Tiger! Come on down! What in Dicename are you wearing? You look like a bloody ghost!’

  Kiki’s head bobbed slightly and floated gently upward, followed by her shoes. When she got halfway she tipped over and gently landed on what, to Dielle, was still the ceiling.

  ‘It’s a Woodham Grey C-thru, Charlie. It’s hyper-now.’

  ‘Bloody hell! I can’t see where to grab you! Can’t you turn it off?’

  ‘It cost me a small fortune. I’m not going to turn it off just so you can cop a feel.’

  She gave him a kiss and he reached out to hug her. To Dielle, it looked like he was grabbing thin air. Charlie looked up.

  ‘Come on down to UpSide, mate. Give it a try. Sis will carry you as soon as you jump. You can’t get hurt in here! Jeeesus H! Imagine the publicity! I’d be a laughing stock!’

  ‘Charlie, you were a laughing stock a long time before you took office,’ said Kiki, sitting down and looking up at Dielle. ‘Come on darling, it’s easy.’

  Dielle launched himself upward and immediately felt light. It was just like the inertia-free feeling he’d experienced on the tube. He rotated in the middle and landed with the same force as his take-off.

  ‘Cool!’ he said, grinning inanely.

  Charlie stuck out his hand. ‘Charlie Pleewo, temporary Slabwide president, serial bonne voyeur and general handyman in a tight spot. Pleased to meetcha!’

  Dielle was surprised by the vigour of the handshake.

  Slab’s president stared Dielle coolly in the eyes. ‘Welcome to the presidential neutral room, welcome to UpSideDown. In fact, welcome to Slab in general. Take a seat. Let me get you a proper drink.’ He took the now-empty glass from Dielle and walked over to a brightly lit cabinet filled with old bottles and crystal glasses. ‘None of your regulated banalcohol here,’ he said. ‘This is the real thing.’ He poured a finger of amber liquid from a cut-glass decanter into a thick crystal tumbler.

  ‘Get your laughing gear round this one. It’s a true vintage, laid down before Louie Drago was a twinkle in your father’s eye.’

  ‘You know about Louie?’ said Dielle, cautiously smelling the heady vapour coming from his glass.

  ‘Course mate! I’m the president! Who d’you think authorised bringing you out of that deepfreeze in the first place?’

  ‘I thought Louie said it was a contractual thing, something to do with paying for it?’

  ‘Yeah right! What d’you reckon to the Scotch?’

  Dielle took a sip and nearly choked. ‘Wow!’

  ‘D’ya like it?’ asked Charlie as the aromas and burning fluid passed through Dielle’s digestive system, exciting everything it touched.

  ‘Yeah!’ said Dielle, taking another sip. ‘It’s amazing! What is it?’

  ‘It’s a distilled spirit made from fermented malted barley and natural spring water which had been filtered through a thousand years of peat and heather. It was matured in a country called Scotland in a wooden cask made from an oak tree that lived over five hundred years ago in Southern France before being chopped down and ship
ped to Spain to be turned into sherry barrels. And we are currently,’ he paused for a brief moment, and sighed, ‘one point four eight two million, billion kilometres from another bottle of it.’

  ‘Oh Charlie?’ said Kiki. ‘How come I didn’t get any?’

  ‘You’ve got the sumecast rights to this meeting, Tiger. Which would you prefer?’

  Charlie sat down next to Dielle and gave him his full attention.

  ‘Yeah, I know about Louie but I haven’t met him yet. He’s been invited to SlabCouncil and they don’t allow the likes of me in there you know.’

  ‘But you’re the president. Don’t you get to choose where you can go?’

  ‘The president doesn’t have any proper authority.’ He sounded resentful. ‘I get to open events and make speeches and raise funds for noble causes and so on. That’s about all.’

  ‘And be a piss-head,’ said Kiki from behind his back.

  ‘Yeah, well there’s that too.’

  ‘But you just said you authorised my re-fam.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He looked at Kiki and nodded. She went blank for a second, frowned and looked back at him with a query in her eyes. He turned his head to one side and raised his eyebrows. Kiki thought for a moment and then nodded.

  Charlie reached into his pocket and took out a small, shiny rectangular object not much bigger than his two middle fingers. He placed it on the centre of the table and pushed the top. An intense white line of light swept a perfect circle around the perimeter of the room, encompassing them all in a shimmering hemisphere. ‘OK,’ he said, getting business-like. ‘We’re off the record. Anything and everything that happens in here is now sub-rosa. Complete embargo.’ He turned to Kiki. ‘I mean it, Tiger’.

  Kiki shifted uncomfortably. ‘Yeah, yeah, keep it short though. Every second is billable’.

  Charlie moved over to sit opposite them. ‘Goddammit Tiger, we’re off camera now, can’t you turn that bloody dress off?’

  ‘OK, but warn me before you lift the rose.’ Kiki’s body, completely enclosed in a thick, grey material, appeared on the couch. She took off her heavy gloves and wafted her face with them.

  ‘Thing is, son,’ said Charlie, turning to Dielle, ‘I really don’t have any authority over who gets re-fammed. It was a sham. I was ordered to approve your consent by SlabCouncil and now they’ve taken Louie into their bloody nest.’