‘Just show everyone what big guns you’ve got and they’ll do what you want?’
‘That’s right,’ said the choudapt.
‘Okay, stop there. Turn round.’
The choudapt halted and turned. He was grinning.
Simoz continued, ‘The fungal form has been altered to counter the retrovirus, but you knew that the virus would be altered to suit. You also knew that at some point it would be released here. So the question is: what result are you after?’
The choudapt’s palps moved in what Simoz could only assume to be a rude gesture.
‘You won’t get out of here,’ the choudapt said. He nodded back down the tunnel. ‘It won’t just be the biolights. Every piece of biotech will be after you. Right now the lifting platforms have ceased to function.’
‘You know, I’m carrying the virus in my body. The fungal parasites would die very quickly,’
said Simoz.
‘Then release it.’
‘I see. . turn and continue walking.’
Mike, do not release the virus. Whatever happens, do not release it.
As they reached the end of the tunnel Simoz tossed a shock grenade behind him to deter the pursuing biolights, which had now been joined by some armoured multi-legged thing whose function he could not guess. The choudapt led him through another tunnel, a narrow tunnel that seemingly terminated at a wall, but then the wall parted before him. In the place beyond the choudapt turned to Simoz, who peered past him at the second choudapt crucified by woody growths to the wrack wall. This other one opened crusted eyes but did not speak.
‘Tarin controls the Wrack city. He controls every fungal parasite and therefore all the biotech here. Go on, Earther, release your virus — kill them all,’ the first choudapt said.
‘I see,’ said Simoz. ‘You’ve undermined all the biotech. If I release the virus what happens?’
‘You destroy the Wrack and kill a hundred thousand people. We claim extreme incompetence on the part of ECS and recruit a million to our cause.’
‘Then I won’t release the virus.’
As he said this he heard the wall opening behind him. Without looking he shot behind himself and heard a bubbling squeal.
‘You’ll die either here or on your way out and someone else will come and release the virus here. We win all ways.’
‘You don’t,’ said Simoz.
The choudapt had time only to raise his remaining arm. The thin-gun coughed, the side of the man’s head opened like a hinged lid and a haze of bone and brain splashed out behind him.
He staggered back and fell at the feet of the encysted choudapt, Tarin. Simoz now turned and fired twice, splashing luminous blood up the walls. He tossed a shock grenade out into an encroaching wall of chitinous legs, glowing bodies, and hints of armour. The wall fell in chaos and he counted the last two grenades in his pocket. Then he turned, walked forward and stepped over the dead choudapt to look into Tarin’s eyes. There was a ripping sound as Tarin opened his crusted lips.
‘No win. . Earther,’ he said, spittle running from the side of his mouth.
Knock once for yes and twice for no. Are you hearing this, Mike?
Simoz’s stomach muscles clenched twice and he grinned at his doctor mycelium’s little joke.
You have to go in, Mike, and take over. This was always a possibility: you have to leave me even if that means you leave me to die.
There was a long pause then his stomach muscles clenched once.
‘I always win,’ said Simoz.
The choudapt Tarin opened his mouth to make some reply. Simoz didn’t wait for it. He slammed his hand over that crusted mouth.
Goodbye, Mike, he managed before his legs went numb and the sight faded from his eyes. As he fell he could feel his hand bonded to the choudapt’s mouth. The thin-gun fell from the numb fingers of his other hand before a pool of blackness filled his skull.
…
Simoz.
…
Simoz.
Adaptogenic
“Good morning Mr Chel,” said the two and a half metre tall two hundred kilo monster who worked as security guard for Darkander. I gave Jane a look of long-suffering and stood still while I was scanned for comlinks or any of the other equipment Darkander considered an unfair advantage.
“You are clean, Mr Chel.”
My chip card was next and the monster took it from me between a finger and thumb like the grab on a cometary mining ship. After a moment he returned it.
“Your credit is good, Mr Chel.”
After she too had been checked out Jane joined me. I smiled mild approval at her cool.
“Is it always like that?” she asked, tucking her card into one of the many pockets of her coverall.
“Always. No extra information access. No comlinks and no AIs. Darkander is very strict about it.”
“Isn’t that a bit discriminating?”
“Some free AIs once took him to court on those grounds. They lost out on a protection of antiquities law about two centuries old. He then pointed out to them that should they bring another action and win he would be forced to close down. They left him alone. Anyway, what do you think?”
Darkander’s is an anachronism. It is a huge scan-shielded warehouse where all manner of items are stacked haphazardly and sold by lot. There is no computer bidding, no microsecond business transactions. Starting from lot one everything comes under Darkander’s wooden hammer. It is a place for human experts with a relish for competition, an eye for bargains and deals, and a dislike of paying taxes. People like Jason Chel. Me.
“Now, I’m not going to point anything out to you, as I’m often watched. Anything that takes your interest mark on the list, then come back to me when you’ve finished. I’ll tell you how high to go.”
Jane smiled then swayed off amongst the chaos of goods. As I watched her go I felt a degree of discomfort. I’d promised her this visit some time ago, when I’d been drunk, and had since tried very hard to get out of it. Well, now she was here. Hopefully she wouldn’t cause too much harm. I slowly followed her in and allowed my gaze to wander casually to the objects I was after. There was a box of what looked like pre-runcible tiles, probably from the belly of a shuttle, a Thakework sculpture of Orbonnai skulls, something that looked like the shell of a mollusc — I hadn’t a clue what it was, but was prepared to risk a few credits on it — and finally there was the Golem Six android, which after my cursory inspection the day before I felt sure had the mind of a three or four. This last item was the one I really wanted. Made before the twenty third revision of the Turing test these Golem were much in demand. Of course, now the auction was starting I did not look too closely at it, I instead showed a great deal of interest in some chainglass blades which were quite obviously faked to look like Tenkian’s.
The bidding started off with the usual lack of alacrity as Jane rejoined me.
“Let me see,” I took the note screen from her and studied the items she had marked. To my annoyance I noted she had marked the tiles. “I think we’ll have a cup of coffee. These — “ I tapped the stylus against the lot number of the tiles. “Won’t be up for a while, and they are the first on your… list.”