"She's with the boy," it said, anticipating his next question.
"The boy?"
"Pauli. Her father's ward. He can't sleep and she's gone to his room to comfort him."
"Ah . . ." Kim grimaced at his reflection then turned away. "And Reiss?"
The machine was silent a moment, then, rather than answering his question, it did something it had never done before and offered him advice.
"You should go and see her."
"See her?" Kim laughed uncomfortably. "Why should I do that?"
"Because you ought."
Kim turned, looking up into the camera eye. "It's unlike you to be so vague."
It was silent.
"Okay," Kim said, faintly disturbed. "I'll think about it."
"And you should buy yourself a Mansion."
Kim looked up again. "A Mansion? Are you all right?"
The Machine's voice was hesitant. "You don't see things. The obvious things. Your vision . . . it's so narrow."
Kim laughed, astonished.
"Maybe you should talk to Reiss about it. Insist on it as a term in whatever deal you make with him. You need a home, Kim—somewhere to build from. This . . . this is no good for you."
Kim stood there a moment, staring into the camera, then, with an impatient, dismissive gesture, he left the room.
"It makes sense," the Machine said, its voice following Kim down the corridor. "If you were to have children—"
Kim stopped and turned, angry now. "Matters logical, they're your province. As for matters of the heart . . . well, what would you know of those?"
He waited, expecting an answer, but the Machine was silent. Kim 11 walked on, troubled, thinking about what it had said.
"Kim ... so there you are!"
Reiss got up and came out to greet Ward as he approached the table. The Hive was packed, as it always was this time of evening, but Reiss had paid to have the four tables surrounding his kept clear. He embraced Kim, then turned, introducing his companion.
"Kim, this is jack Neville. Jack . . . this is Kim Ward."
"Pleased to meet you," Neville said, stepping round Reiss to offer his hand. He was a slender, brown-haired man in his early thirties with a plump, almost boyish face.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Kim said, taking a seat across from them. "There was something I had to do."
Reiss smiled. "No matter. I understand things went well after I'd gone."
Kim smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry about that. I know what you said about the second prototype, but I was sure Li Yuan would see it our way once things were explained."
Reiss took the menu the Head Steward was offering, then smiled back at Kim. "And you were right. Nan Ho was on to me only an hour back. It seems Li Yuan has decided to extend the program for a further year."
"Excellent!" Then, understanding why Reiss was not quite so enthusiastic, Kim gave a soft laugh. "We'd best resolve this, neh? As it is . . . well, I'm finding it hard to work."
Neville, watching him, raised an eyebrow, then looked to Reiss, who nodded.
"You want to hear our offer before you eat, or after?"
Kim took a menu, scanned it, then set it aside. "Let's order, then you can tell me what you've got in mind."
"Okay." Reiss looked to the Head Steward. "My usual, Chang, medium rare, and a bottle of Golden Emperor. A magnum. The '98 if you have it."
"I'll have the same," Kim said, "but rare. And just water for me, thanks." He looked at Reiss. "No offense, but I'll get nothing done tomorrow if I drink tonight."
"I understand. But you don't mind ..."
"No." Kim smiled broadly. "Some people can take their drink. Me . . ." he laughed. "Anyway, Jack, what are you having?"
Neville looked up, surprised and flattered to be addressed by his first name. "I think I'll have the rainbow trout. I don't think I've ever tasted it." He laughed. "In fact, I didn't know it still existed."
"It doesn't," Kim said, as the Steward withdrew. "At least, not the real thing. That's been extinct some two centuries now. But it's as good as, so they say. GenSyn have been making great strides these past few years, bringing back a lot of the old species. You've seen the ads."
Neville nodded, again surprised that Kim kept up with such things. "Does anything escape your notice?"
Kim laughed. "Not much. I like to keep abreast of developments. It makes my task easier if I know I'm not duplicating things. And I like to keep up with the latest media trends. I'm told you're something of an innovator in that field."
Neville looked down, a faint blush at his neck. Reiss, beside him, beamed with an almost parental pride.
"He's a good man," Reiss answered. "We expect much of him. That's why I asked him to come up with a package we could offer you."
"I see." Kim sat back, surprised that the Machine hadn't told him. In fact, now that he came to think of it, the thing had been behaving very strangely these past few weeks. Almost as if it were conscious.
Kim looked down. No. That wasn't possible. He'd seen just how difficult it was to create even the most basic functioning intelligence in a machine. It simply wasn't possible that a machine—however large, however complex—could develop consciousness. Not on its own.
Neville was watching him, fascinated. "What is it?"
Kim laughed. "Sorry. I was doing it again, wasn't I?"
"Doing what?"
"Thinking."
"Ah . . ." Neville nodded, then, with a glance at Reiss, leaned toward Kim. "You want to hear our offer?"
Kim nodded, strangely relaxed now that the moment was here.
"The bad news—" Neville grinned—"the bad news is that you're no longer to be an employee of the Company."
Kim laughed. "And the good news?"
Neville reached beside him and took a slender folder from the empty chair, then handed it across.
Kim hesitated, then opened it up.
"You don't have to answer now," Reiss said, sitting back as the waiter placed the ice bucket on the table and lifted a magnificent-looking golden bottle from within. "You'll want to think things over, I'm sure."
Kim nodded. "I see." He scanned the two sheets quickly, then put the folder down, watching as the waiter uncapped the honey-gold bottle and poured an ice-chilled glass for Reiss. "And if I were to ask for a Mansion?" Reiss smiled and lifted his glass. "You have one in mind?" Kim shrugged, then looked back at the folder. His own Company, that was what they were offering. A subsidiary of SimFic, yet big enough to compete on its own terms in the market. He shivered inwardly. Once before he had been in such a position. Once before he had tried to make a go of it on his own—and failed. But this time it would be different. This time he would have the giant SimFic Company at his back, protecting him, keeping him from being swallowed up. Yes, and this time there would be no circle of Old Men trying to pull him down and destroy him. It was a tempting proposition.
He watched Reiss sip and then grunt his satisfaction. The waiter poured again, filling Neville's glass. Neville nodded his thanks, then lifted his glass, toasting Kim.
"To you, Kim. Whatever you decide."
CHAPTER THREE
Wives
pE I K ' u N G had opened only a dozen or so letters—placing each unread in the tray beside her—when the handwriting on one made her frown and pause. She turned the single sheet over, then, seeing the signature, the family seal at the foot of the page, caught her breath. She sat back, her face drained.
Tsung Ye stared at her, alarmed. "Mistress? Are you all right?"
She waved him away, then turned the page, reading it from the top right column, concentrating fiercely on the neat handwritten Mandarin.
"The nerve . . ." she said after a moment, giving the paper an impatient rustle. Why she had a mind to call the bitch right now! How dare she write to him!
Fei Yen . . . The letter was from Li Yuan's first wife, Yin Fei Yen.
She brought her fist down hard, making everything on the desk jump, then stood, her whole body trembling now with anger. Crossing to the window, she summoned her secretary to her. Tsung Ye hurried across, his face troubled by the sudden change in his mistress.