There was the hostile gram, of course. The one that had sought the capture or elimination of The Mock's daughter. The one that had almost drowned him at the Mock's underwater command center in Southeast Texas. That mollysphere had been dismantled and dissected, providing a rich lode of infocrunch to law enforcement authorities in ten countries.
Had the central molly spit out a last, vengeful command prior to being severed from its box and extracted? Retribution was not a quality that was usually attributed to inert boot grams. Suppose some last-minute, apostate permutation of The Mock's main molly had escaped detection, and from its base in Belize or Barbados or Botswana was contemplating vengeance against the federale responsible for the termination of its core activities?
It was a thoroughly outrageous notion. Few would have granted it even a moment's credence. But Cardenas had spent more time probing the Big Box than most, and had seen the worst of what it could do. It was a strange land, the Box. A place where no one, even those who added to it and maintained it and used it on a daily basis, entirely understood the nature of what they were working with. A place that was continuously evolving. Usually in concert with humankind-but sometimes, according to whom you chose to believe, without it. Who could say what was and was not possible within the mysterious, half-magical mathematical milieu that was the Box?
It did not matter whether someone had a gun pointed at him or a gram: he took any and all threats seriously. He would treat this one no differently. If it was a gag, he would have words with the perpetrators. If it was a gram, he would have input.
Picking up the vorec, he began to fight back.
The leaves of brown came tumbling down. Harmony Francis sat in the window seat of her second-floor Vermont bedroom watching them pile up on the lawn outside the house. It was a quiet September Sunday morning. Her adopted siblings were still asleep. They slept longer than she did because they were used to quiet Sunday mornings. Since she had enjoyed very few in her life, they were still a novelty to Harmony. As such, she did not want to miss or waste a single one of them.
Her Uncle Jim walked into view, powerake in hand, and proceeded to embark on the eternal New England early-fall outing known as mustering the leaves. Downstairs, she knew, Aunt Loise would be synthing batter for blueberry waffles to go with the eggs and bacon and chocolate whale milk.
A sound drew her attention away from the window. Looking down, she saw a six-legged machine the size of her thumb standing on the carpet next to her left foot. Four tiny lenses peered back up at her as the miniscule head cocked curiously to one side. A soft, continuous, and not unpleasant mechanical purr emanated from the device.
"Well," she exclaimed in quiet surprise, "where did you come from? Out of that mouse hole in the attic?" A familiar child's ditty sprang unbidden into her head. How many wugs would a wise wug whip if a wise wug would whip wugs?
Wugs watched, but did not interact. That was the commonly accepted wisdom. Instead of simply staring, or withdrawing, this one approached. Aunt Loise would panic if she saw it, Harmony knew, and Uncle Jim would probably take a swing at it with the nearest shovel or shoe. After a moment's hesitation, she reached down. The wug immediately scuttled forward and into her palm. Lifting it up, she stared wonderingly into its quartet of miniature ruby-red lenses.
"What are you teeny guys, anyway? What do you want from us? What do you want from me?"
From beneath her bed, from the bathroom, from under the closet door, more wugs appeared. Dozens more. The range of shapes and sizes was breathtaking. No two were alike. It was almost as if they were experimenting with themselves, searching for an ideal structure, trying to find the best way to be whatever it was they were. She could understand that. In many ways, she had embarked on the same kind of journey. Whirring and buzzing and humming softly to themselves, they climbed up onto the window seat, and onto her.
Evolving together they might be, she reflected, but there was no disputing who was the more ticklish. Covered in curious wugs, she began to giggle, then to laugh.
She wondered what that nice federale Angel Cardenas would have thought of it.
El Fin
GLOSSARY OF SPANG
Expressions
"Hoh"-Strip exclamation. Variant of "Whoa!"
"Como se happening?"-combination of Sp. "What is" English "
To the opto"-to take something to the max(imum)
"What's skewed?"-what's wrong?
"Verdad"-truth; it's for sure. From Sp. for "truth"
"Faz"-fabulous, great, wonderful
"Andale!"-go! Get going! From the Sp.
Note: In the slang of the Strip, many Spanish verbs are "spanged" by having their original suffixes anglicized. To wit, solicitar (to solicit or request) adds the Eng. -ed and -ing, instead of the usual Sp. endings. As in "he solicitared (something)" or "he was solicitaring."
abla-to talk or say something. From Sp. hablar, to talk
ambulate-to go, move
arribed-arrived; to arrive. From Sp. arribar, to arrive
boney-to scavenge someone's bones and marrow
bungo-used like "nez"
canyon-to cut deeply
carny-to assail a citizen with advertisements
coge-to fuck. From Mex. Slang coger, to fuck
cogit-to create, make, invent. From Eng. Cogitate
cojone-to make something tougher. From Sp. cojones, balls
coz-to make use of. As in "to cozy up to something"
dock-to get somebody (as in archaic "put them in the dock"-only worse)
drac-to scavenge someone's blood
expiate-to kill
eyedee-to identify someone, something
facilit-to take it easy, relax. From Eng. facile Sp. facil, easy
facture-to make or manufacture something
flash-to show advertisements
mess-to send a message; communicate
mickey-to customize something; esp. by the Disony entertainment multinat
nez-to screw up or mess up
pop-to open
portage-to carry
rainbow-to change color
respirate-to extort, usually money
romp-to ruin. From Eng. to romp Sp. romper, to destroy
roto-to steal; to mug someone
sabe-to know. From the Sp.
shrewd-to speak or perceive shrewdly
shunt-synonym of ambulate
skip-to take or drag
skrag-to beat someone up bad
slag-to lead someone on; to tease. Also, to melt something
snak-to catch, intercept something
solicitar-to solicit, request. From the Sp.
somber-to say or speak somberly
vape-to kill
vete-to hang out with someone
vitalize-to make or create or bring something into existence
volubate-to talk, speak. From Eng. Voluble
waft-to go away; tell someone to get lost
whirligig-to pass something along
agro-aggression. An aggressive person. From N. Zealand slang
antisoc-an antisocial person, criminal element
baggerag-a low-class mugger
Big Box, the-contemporary equivalent of the old, historic Internet
biosurge-a surgeon with advanced mechanical handling skills
Bonezone-a dangerous, lawless area
boxes-linked computers. Intranets to infranets to the Big Box itself