Moving Mars (26 page)

We dont stay here often, Orianna said, emerging from the elevator. Her long legs carried her down the hall like an eager colt. She slowed only to allow me to catch up with her. Mothers given us the space here for a few days. My hab is just like the one in Paris. Ive kept it since I was a kid.

The door to apartment 43 looked tame enoughpaneled wood with brass numbers. Orianna palmed entry and the door swung inward. We have a guest, she called. Beyond stretched a round gray tunnel with a white strip of walkway. The tunnel ballooned around us, unshaped.

Welcome home. What can we do for you, Orianna? a soft masculine voice asked.

Fancy conservative decorfor our guestand tell Shrug and Kite to rise and meet my friend.

The tunnel quickly shaped a cream-colored decor with gold details, a rosewood armoire opening its doors to accept my coat and Oriannas shoulder wrap. English Regency, Orianna said. Kites idea of conservatism.

Shrug, Kiteit all sounded very drive. I wondered if I would regret coming.

Dont stick on the names, Orianna said, shaping the living room into more Regency. All my friends are into Vernoring. They work and play with fake names. I dont know their true ones. Not even their parents know.

Why?

Its a game. Two rulesnobody knows what youre doing, and you do nothing illegal.

Doesnt that take the fun out of doing crypto? I asked.

Wowcrypto! Hide in the tomb. Sorry. I shy from two-edged words. We call it Vernoring.

Doesnt it? I persisted.

No, Orianna said thoughtfully. Illegal is harm. Harm is stupid. Stupid is its own game, and none of my friends play it. Heres Kite.

Kite came through a double door dressed in faded denim shirt and pants. He stood two meters high, minus a few centimeters, and carried a green-and-white mottled sun kitten.

Orianna introduced us. Kite smiled and performed a shallow bow, then offered his free hand. He seemed natural enoughhandsome but not excessively so, manner a little shy. He squatted cross-legged on the oriental carpet and the sun kitten played within a Persian garden design. A light switched on overhead and bathed the animal in a spot of brightness. It mewed appreciatively and stretched on its back.

Were going out tonight, Orianna said. Where is Shrug?

Asleep, I think. Hes spent the last three days working a commission.

Well, wake him up!

You do it, Kite said.

Pleasures mine. Orianna leaped from the chair and returned to the hall. We heard her banging on doors.

She could just buzz him, Kite said ruefully, shaking his head. She pretends shes a storm, sometimes.

I murmured assent.

But shes really sweet. You must know that.

I like her a lot, I said.

Shes an only and that makes a difference, Kite added. I have a brother and sister. You?

A brother, I said. And lots of blood relations.

Kite smiled. The smile rendered his face transcendentally beautiful. I blinked and looked away.

Is it rough, having everyone vid you?

Im getting tired of it.

You know, you should watch whom you touch Shake hands with. That sort of thing. Some of the LitVids are casual about privacy. They could plant watchers on you. He held up pinched fingers and peered through a tiny gap. Some are micro. Hide anywhere.

Isnt that against the law?

If you havent filed for privacy rights, they could argue youre common-law open. Then youd only be protected in surveillance negative areas. The watchers would turn off Most of the time.

Thats bolsh, said a deep, lion-like voice. I turned to see Orianna dragging into the room by one hand a very large, blocky man with a very young face. Nobodys planted a watcher without permission in four years, the young-faced man said. Not since Wayne vs. LA PubEye.

Casseia Majumdar, of Mars, this is Shrug. Hes studied law. He has almost as many enhancements as I do.

Shrug dipped on one knee as I stood. I barely reached his chin when he kneeled.

Charmed, he said, kissing my hand.

Stop that, Orianna said. Shes my partner.

You dont curve, Shrug said.

Were sisters of sim, Orianna said.

Oh, dear, such an arc! Kite said, smiling.

I dont think I understand a third of what was said the whole time I spent in New York.

Back on the streets, holding hands with Shrug and Orianna, and then with Orianna and Kite, I let myself be taken somewhere, anywhere. Kite was really very attractive and did not seem averse to flirting, though more to aggravate Orianna, I thought, than to impress me. My slate recorded streets and directions in case I needed to find my way back to Penn Station; it also contained full-scale maps of the city, all cities on the Earth, in fact. I could hardly get lost unless someone took my slate and Orianna assured me that New York was virtually free of thieves. Too bad, I said, in a puckish mood.

Yeah, Orianna said. But that doesnt mean theres no risk. Its risk we choose that we should beware.

I choose lunch, Kite said. Theres a great old delicatessen here. Total goback.

My expression of surprise caught his eye. Goback. Means retro, atavistic, historic. All are good drive words now, no negs.

It means something else on Mars, I said.

Folks who want to keep BM rule are called Gobacks, Orianna said.

Are you a Goback? Shrug asked me.

Im neutral, I said. My family has strong links to BM autonomy. Im still learning.

Echoing the theme, we passed a family of Chasids dressed in black. The men wore wide-brimmed hats and styled their hair in long thin locks around their temples. The women wore long simple dresses in natural fabrics. The children skipped and danced happily, dressed in black and white.

Theyre lovely, arent they? Orianna said, glancing over her shoulder at the family. Total goback! No enhancements, no therapy, neg the drive.

New York is great for that sort of thing, Kite said.

We passed three women in red chadors; a woman herding five blue dogs, followed by an arbeiter carrying a waste can; five men in single file, nude, not that it matteredtheir bodies were completely smooth, with featureless tan skin; a male centaur with a half-size horse body, perfectly at home cantering along the sidewalk, mans portion clothed in formal Edwardian English wool suit and bowler; jaguar-pelted women, furry, not in furs; two young girls, perhaps ten Earth years, dressed in white ballet gowns with fairy wings growing from their backs (temp or permanent? I couldnt tell); a gaggle of school-children dressed in red coats and black shorts, escorted by men in black cassocks (Papal Catholics, Kite said); more of the mineral-patterned designer bodies; a great many people who might have fit in without notice on Mars; and of course the mechaniques, who replaced major portions of their bodies with metal shells filled with biorep nano. That, I had heard, was very expensive as an elective. Complete body replacement was much cheaper. Neither could be done legally unless one could prove major problems in birth genotype; it spun too much of the Eloi and Ten Cubed.

After lunch, were going to Central Park, Orianna said. And then

Kite laughed. Orianna has connections. She wants to show you something you just dont have on Mars.

An Omphalos! Orianna said. Father owns shares.

We ate in the delicatessen and it smelled of cooked meat, which I had never smelled before, and which offended me all the same, whether or not meat was actually being cooked. Customers-chiefly drive folks, a high proportion of transformslined up before glass cases filled with what appeared to be sliced processed animals. Plastic labels on metal skewers pronounced the shapes to be Ham, that is, smoked pig legs, Beef (cows) corned (though having nothing to do with corn) and otherwise, something called Pastrami which was another type of cow covered with pepper, smoked fish, fish in fermented dairy products, vegetables in brine and vinegar, pig feet in jars, and other things that, had they been real, would have caused a true uproar even on Earth.

We stood at the counter until the clerk took our order, then found a table. Martian reserve kept me from expressing my distaste to Orianna. She ordered for mepotato salad, smoked salmon, a bagel, and cream cheese.

The stuff here is the best in town, she said. It was set up by New York Preserve. History scholars. They have a nano artist design the foodhes orthodox Gathering of Abraham. They have state dispensation to eat meat, for religious reasons. He quit eating meat ten years ago, but he remembers what it tastes like.

Our food arrived. The salmon appeared raw, felt slimy-soft, and tasted salty and offensive.

You have imitation meat on Mars, dont you? Kite asked.

It isnt so authentic, I said. It doesnt smell like this.

Blame the drive for history, Shrug said. Nothing immoral about imitation. It doesnt hurt, it doesnt waste, it teaches us what New York used to be like

I dont think Casseias enjoying her lox, Kite said, smiling sympathetically. My heart sank in hopeless attraction, simply looking at his face.

Maybe its turned, I said.

It does taste rank, Kite said. Maybe its the fake preservatives. Things dont turn any more.

Right, I said, embarrassed at my inability to enjoy the treat. Tailored bacteria. Eat only what theyre meant to.

The Earth, Shrug said portentously, is a vast zoo.

They fell to discussing whether zoo was the right word. They settled on garden.

Do you have many murders on Mars? Shrug asked.

A few. Not a lot, I answered.

Shrugs fascinated by violent crime, Orianna said.

Id love to defend a genuine murderer. Theyre so rare now Ten murders in New York last year.

Among fifty million citizens, Kite said, shaking his head. Thats what therapy has done to us. Maybe we dont care enough to kill any more.

Orianna made a tight-lipped blat.

No, really, Kite said. Shrug says hed love to defend a murder case. A real one. But hell probably never see one. A murder. It chills the blood just to say the word.

So whats passion like on Mars? Shrug asked. Murderous?

I laughed. The last murder I heard about, a wife killed her husband on an isolated station. Their familytheir Binding Multiplehad suffered pernicious exhaustion

Love the words! Shrug said.

Of funds. They were left alone at the station without a status inquiry for a year. The BM was fined, but couldnt pay its fine. Its pretty unusual, I concluded. We therapy disturbed people, too.

Ah, but is murder a disturbance! Kite asked, straining to be provocative.

Youd think so if you were the victim, I said.

Too much health, too much vigortoo few dark corners, Kite said sadly. What is there left to write about? Our best LitVids and sims use untherapied characters. But how do we write about our real lives, what we know? Id like to make sims, but sanity is really limiting.

Hes opening his soul to you, Orianna said. He doesnt tell people that unless he likes them.

Theres plenty of story in conflicts between healthy folks, I suggested. Political disagreements. Planning decisions.

Kite shook his head sadly. Hardly takes us to the meaning of existence. Hardly stretches us to the breaking point. You want to live that kind of life?

I didnt know how to answer. Thats what Im doing now, I finally replied.

Up your scale, Shrug advised Kite. Shes right. The clash of organizations, governments. Still possible. GEWA against GSHA. Might make a bestseller.

Theyre even taking that away from us, Kite said. No wars, nothing but economic frictions behind closed doors. Nothing to make the heart pound.

Kite is a Romantic, Orianna said.

That seemed to genuinely irritate him. Not at all, he said. The Romantics wanted to destroy themselves.

Spoken like a true child of our time, Shrug said. Kite pushes healthy as they come. Passionlife to the limitbut no risk, please.

Kite grinned. I never met a passion I didnt like, he said. I just dont want to be owned by one.

An actor portraying a waiter took my dish away.

The Omphalos stood on five hectares at the southern end of Manhattan, near Battery Park. It looked immensely strong, a cube surrounded by smaller cubes, all gleaming white with gold trim.

At the gate, on the very edge of the compound, Orianna presented her palm and answered a few questions posed by a blank-faced security arbeiter. A human guard met us, took us into an adjoining room, sat behind a desk, and asked our reasons for taking the tour.

Id like to talk in private with a resident, Orianna said. I looked at her in surprise; this had not been her stated purpose earlier.

Ill need your true names and affiliations even to apply for a clearance, he said.

That leaves us out, Shrug said. Kite nodded agreement. Well wait outside. Orianna said we wouldnt be more than an hour or two. An arbeiter escorted them to the front gate.

The guard quickly checked our public ratings for security violations and mental status. Youre Martian, he said, glancing at me. Not using a Vernor.

I admitted that I was.

Terries trying to impress you? the guard asked, glancing pointedly at Orianna.

Are you Martian? I asked him.

No. Id like to go there some day. He referred to his slate and nodded approval. I have your CV and pictures from a hundred different LitVid sources Youre a celebrity. Everything clears. Welcome to Omphalos Six, your first glimpse of Heaven. Please stay with your assigned guide.

What are your connections, besides your father owning shares? I asked Orianna as an arbeiter took us through an underground tunnel to the main cube.

I have a reservation for when I turn two centuries, Orianna said. I dont know if Ill use it. I might just die instead She grinned at me. Easy to say now. I might go Eloi and end up on Mars or in the Belt Who knows what things will be like then?

Who are we going to talk to? I asked.

A friend. She held her finger to her lips. The Eye is watching.

Whats that?

The Omphalos thinker. Very high-level. Not at all like Alice, believe methe best Earth can produce.

I quelled my impulse to defend Alice. No doubt Orianna was right.