Glasshouse Part 11

aI was aboard a MASucker, interviewing the crew,a I admit. aWe were cut off for more than a gig after the net went down.a Sam makes a thoughtful noise. aYour turn,a I prompt, trying to change the subject.

aI was an auditor.a Sam is silent again. aThatas why they drafted me.a aThey?a aThe Solipsist Nation: Third Unforgivable Thoughtcrime Battalion, to be precise. They were doing a search and sweep for unsecured memory temples through the disconnected segment I was stranded in, less than a hundred kilosecs after Curious Yellow cut loose. Iad already been censored and compromised, and they just grabbed me and added me to their distributed denial of consciousness array. I spent the next couple of megs scrambling graveyards beyond retrieval, then they got around to actually in-processing me and a.s.signed me to erasing archive trails.a Ugh. And I thought what I did in the Linebarger Cats was ugly? I must shiver or give some other cue because Sam pulls away from me slightly. aWhat clades did the Solipsist Nation align with?a I ask, trying to distract him.

aWhat clades?a He shakes his head. aIt was us against everyone, Reeve. You think anybody in their right minds would ally themselves with an aggressively solipsistic borganism?a aBut youaa"I force myself to lean closer as I ask; heas tense and unhappya"ayou were just a component, werenat you?a He shakes his head. aI had some degree of autonomy, by the time the war ended the Nation had taken to investing us with a modic.u.m of free will. I was . . . well. Before the war, I looked pretty much the way you do right now. The Nation upgraded me, turned me into a combat ogrea"and put me on occupation duty. You know what they called us? Rape machines. If you want to break someoneas will to resist, you can go via the brain, but if the netlinkas been fried by EMP, you have to get physical. They gave us p.e.n.i.ses with backward-facing spines, you know that? We did . . . terrible things. Eventually we were overruna"my segment was overruna"by a consortium of enemies, and they offlined us and when I woke up I was back to being me again, but a me with memories and a large chunk of the Nation wedged in my head. I spent half a meg in my cell disbelieving in the walls and floor before I realized that they had to exist for the same reason I had to exist. And while I was part of the Nation I did things.a Deep breath. aThings that left me ashamed to be human. Or male.a aYeah, but.a I stall. aYou werenat yourself. Right?a aI wish I could believe that.a He sounds forlorn. aI wouldnat do that kind of thing now, but thena"I remember believing in what I was doing. That was part of why I did the ice ghoul thing, I didnat want to be part of a species that could dream something like the Solipsist Nation into existence. I wanteda"we wanteda"to think every thought in the human phase-s.p.a.ce. Do you know what itas like to be hungry and always eating and never full? Solipsist Nation wrecked memory temples out of spite because they contained thoughts we hadnat originated. And I contributed to that. I enthusiastically optimized the processes. I did it because I wanted to.a He takes a deep breath. aI killed people, Reeve. I killed people permanently.a aThen weare not so different.a aYou?a He stares. aBut you said youad . . .a aI started the war on a MASucker; I didnat stay there.a I take a deep breath, because I donat think I can dodge this one. aI volunteered. Joined the Linebarger Cats, combat operations. Spent nearly a gigasec being an armored regiment. Ended up in Psyops.a aWell.a His voice is shaky. aI didnat expect that.a aWhat proportion of the people here do you think fought in the wars?a aI havenat thought about it.a aPeople who were there donat want to remember it. Almost as soon as wead got a local cease-fire established, people were slinking off to the surgeon-confessors.a aYes.a He pauses. aBut Reeve, Iam a monster. There are things in my heada"even after excisiona"that I donat like to visit. You donat want to get too close to me.a aSam.a I shift toward him. aIam . . . There are things I tried to bury, too. I could say the same. Do you care?a aWhat, about what you did?a aYes.a aNo.a aWell, then.a Itas my turn to sound shaky. aWhat I said earlier stands. A bargain, and you agreed to it, hmm?a He shrinks away. aI didnat know.a I swallow to try and clear my dry mouth. aI donat mean right now,a I say. To my surprise, I mean it. aBut I still want you, just as soon as you get used to the idea that I want you and Iam still me. You donat have to project your hatred of what you were forced to do onto me. And besides, I didnat see any barbs on your c.o.c.k the other night.a aBut youave changed too much!a He bursts out, like an iced-over air valve finally cutting loose. aSince Dr. Hanta saw you. Before that, you were you: You were moody and thoughtful, you were cynical, you were funnya"I donat have the words for it. Whatever she did, itas changed you, Reeve. Youad refuse to do something just because it was expected of you; now youare trying to make me f.u.c.k you! Do you really want to get trapped in YFH for the foreseeable future? Trapped and pregnant, too?a I think about it for a moment. aWhatas the problem?a Hanta is a more than conscientious doctor, and Iam confident I can survive a pregnancya"after all, every female mammal in my family tree did it before me, didnat they? How bad can it be?

aReeve.a Now heas looking at me as if Iave morphed into battle-form, sprouting spikes and guns and armor before his eyes. I giggle. Itas like heas seen a ghost! aWhat have they done to you?a aOffered me a way out of having been a monster.a I lean toward him hopefully. aGive me a kiss?a DESPITE my best planning, we do not make love in the end.

In fact, when I finish the cleaning up and come to bed, Sam gets up and, with sleepy dignity, insists heas sleeping alone.

I am so angry and frustrated that I could cry. My problem is easily defineda"itas the solution that eludes me. Itas not that Iave changed a lot, buta"with or without Hantaas promptinga"Iave decided to take some time out of struggling, and the outward manifestation looks like a huge switch. Sam simply hasnat caught up with me yet. Itas very disturbing to be around someone who seems to have inverted all their values and beliefs, and I know if it was Sam whoad been in hospital and come home gla.s.sy-eyed and different, Iad be incredibly upset. But I wish he wouldnat project his anxiety onto mea"Iam all right, in fact Iam better than Iave been at any time since I first woke up in the custody of the surgeon-confessors.

Yes, thereas a problem here: Fiore and Yourdon are doing something very dubious with a serialized copy of Curious Yellow, theyave figured out a way to defeat the security patch in everyoneas implants; and they seem to be researching how to use social control rules installed via CY to create an emergent dictatorship. Buta"and this is the important questiona"why should I care? Havenat I been through enough already? I donat have to let myself be tortured by my own memories; Iave already nearly killed myself trying to do what Sanni and the others in Security Cell Blue wanted. Iave done my duty, and failed. And now . . .

My dirty little secret is that while I was in hospital I realized that I could give up. Iave got Sam. Iave got a job that has the potential to be as interesting as I want it to be. I can settle down and be happy here for a while, even though the amenities are primitive and some of the neighbors are not to my taste. Even dictatorships need to provide the vast majority of their citizens with a comfortable everyday life. I donat have to keep fighting, and if I give up the struggle for a while, theyall leave me alone. I can always go back to it later. n.o.body will scream if I stop, except maybe Sam, and heall adapt to the new me eventually.

All of which is great in theory, but it doesnat help when Iam crying myself to sleep, alone.

16.

Suspense.

THE next day is Friday. I wake up late, and by the time I get downstairs, Sam has already gone to work. I feel drained, enervated by the aftereffects of my infection and the stupid climbing attempt, so I donat do much. I end up spending most of the day shuttling between the bedroom and the kitchen, catching up on my reading and drinking cups of weak tea. When Sam comes homea"really late, and heas already eaten at the steak diner in town and had a gla.s.s or three of winea"I demand to know where heas been, and he clams up. Neither of us wants to back down, so we end up not talking.

On Sat.u.r.day I come downstairs in time to find him putting the lawn mower away. aYouall need to tidy up in the garage,a he says by way of greeting.

aWhy?a I ask.

aI need to stash some stuff.a aUh-huh. What stuff?a aIam going out. See you later.a He means ita"ten minutes after that heas gone, off in a taxi to who knows where. And itas our most significant communication in two days.

I kick myself for being stupid. Stupid is the watchword of the day. So I go into the garage and look for stuff to throw out. Itas a sc.r.a.pyard of unfinished projects, but I think the welding gear can go, and the half-finished crossbow, and most of the other junk Iave been tinkering with under the mistaken idea that what I need to escape from is where I am, rather than who I am. Some bits are missing anyway; I guess Samas already made a start on clearing it out to make room for his golf clubs or whatever. So I heap my stuff in one corner and pull a tarpaulin over it. Out of sight, out of mind, out of garage, thatas what I say.

Back inside, I try to watch some TV, but itas inane and slow, not to mention barely comprehensible. Bright blurry lights on a low-resolution screen with a curving front, slow-moving and tedious, with plots that donat make sense because they rely on shared knowledge that I just donat have. Iam steeling myself to turn it off and face the boredom alone when the telephone rings.

aReeve?a aHi? Whoa"Janis! How are you?a I clutch the handset like a drowning woman.

aOkay, Reeve, listen, do you have anything on today?a aNo, no I donat think soa"why?a aIam meeting a couple of friends in town this afternoon to try out a new cafe near the waterfront thatas just appeared. I was wondering if youad like to come and join us? If youare well enough, that is.a aIamaa"I pausea"asupposed to take it easy for a few days. Thatas what Dr. Hanta said.a Let her chew on that. aIs there a problem with work?a aNot so youad notice.a Janis sounds dismissive. aIam catching up on my reading, to tell the truth. Anyway, I got the note from the hospital. Donat worry on my part.a aOh, okay then. As long as Iam not going to have to run anywhere. How do I get to this place?a aJust ask a taxi to take you to the Village Cafe. Iall be there around two. I was thinking we could try out the cafe and maybe chat.a I am getting an itchy feeling that Janis isnat telling me everything, but the shape of what sheas not telling me is coming through clearly enough. I shiver a bit. Do I really want to get involved? Probably nota"but theyall start talking if I donat, I think. Besides, if theyare planning something stupidly dangerous, I owe it to Dr. Hanta to talk them out of it, I suppose. I glance at the TV set. aAll right. Be seeing you.a Itas already one oaclock, so I change into a smarter outfit and call a taxi to the Village Cafe. Iave no idea what friends Janis might have in mind, but I donat think shead be tasteless enough to invite Jen along. Beyond that, I donat want to risk making a bad impression. Appearances count if youare trying to up your score, and other people pay attention to that kind of thing. And I donat expect Janis would be organizing anything like this if it wasnat important.

Itas a wonderful day, the sky a deep blue and a warm breeze blowing. Janis is right about one thinga"I donat remember ever seeing this neighborhood before. The taxi cruises between rows of clapboard-fronted houses with white picket fences and mercilessly laundered gra.s.s ap.r.o.ns in front of them, then hangs a left around a taller brick building and drives along a tree-lined downhill boulevard with oddly shaped buildings to either side. There are other taxis about, and people! We drive past a couple out for a stroll along the sidewalk. I thought Sam and I were the only folks who did that. Who am I missing?

The taxi stops just before a cul-de-sac where a semicircle of awnings shield white tables and outdoor furniture from the sky. A stone fountain burbles wetly by the roadside. aVillage Cafe,a recites the driver. aVillage Cafe. Your credit score has been debited.a Blue numerals float out of the corner of my left eye as I open the door and step out. There are people sitting at the tablesa"one of them waves. Itas Janis. Sheas looking a lot better than the last time I saw her: Sheas smiling, for one thing. I walk over.

aJanis, hi.a I recognize Tammy sitting next to her but donat know what to say. ah.e.l.lo everybody?a aReeve, hi! This is Tammy, and hereas Elainea"a aEl,a El mumbles.

aAnd this is Bernice. Have a chair? We were just trying to work out what to order. Would you like anything?a I sit down and see printed polymer sheet menus sitting in front of each chair. I try to focus on them, just as a box with a grille on it above the door to the cafe crackles and begins to shout: aGood afternoon! Itas another beautiful day . . .a aI think Iall have a gin and tonic,a I say.

aYour attention please, here are two announcements,a continues the box. aIce cream is now on sale for your enjoyment. The flavor of the day is truffle and banana. Here is a warning. There is a possibility of light showers later in the day. Thank you for your attention.a Tammy pulls a face. aItas been doing that every ten minutes since we arrived. I wish itad shut up.a aI asked at the counter,a Janis says apologetically. aThey say they canat shut it offa"itas everywhere in this sector.a aYes? What is this sector, anyway? I donat remember it.a I bury my nose in the menu immediately in case Iave just made a faux pas.

aIam not sure. It appeared yesterday, so I thought we should go look at it.a aConsider it looked at,a says Bernice. Who is dark and slightly plump and wears a perpetual expression of mild disgust: I think Iave seen her at Church, but thatas about it. aMineas a mango la.s.si.a A zombie, male, wearing a dark suit and a long, white ap.r.o.n, shuffles out of the cafe. aAre you ready to order?a he asks in a high, nasal voice.

aYes, please.a Janis rattles off a list of drinks, and the waitron retreats indoors again. The drinks are mostly alcohol-free: I seem to be one of the odd ones out. Oops, I think. aTammy and El and I have been meeting up every Sat.u.r.day for the past few weeks,a she adds in my direction. aWe tell our husbands weare a sewing circle. Itas a good excuse to gossip and drink, and none of them would know a real sewing circle if one bit him on the toe, so . . .a aWhat is a sewing circle?a asks Bernice.

El reaches diffidently into a huge bag and pulls out a thing that looks like an airlock cover made of cloth. There are pins stuck in it, and colored thread. aSomething like we all get together to do embroidery. Like this.a She pulls a needle out and manages to stab herself in the ball of one thumb with it. aIam not very good yet,a she adds mournfully.

aCount me out of the sewing,a I say. aBut the drinks and gossip are another matter.a aThatas what she said youad say.a Tammy flashes me an apologetic smile. aBesides, I was wondering if you knew what had happened to Mick.a Oops again. aIam not sure. I asked Dr. Hanta about him, and she said it was under discussion, whatever that means. I know Ca.s.s is still in the hospital.a aAh, right.a Tammy leans back. aTen dollars says they both retire from the experiment within a week.a I shiver. Thereas only one way in or out of a MASucker, for reason of securitya"to let the flight crew barricade the door if the civilization on the other side of it collapses. aIam not sure how likely that is,a I say. aBut Dr. Hanta has a way of straightening things out. Iam sure sheall be able to do something for Ca.s.s, and I know Mick hasnat visited her since . . . well.a aWhat about Fiore?a asks Janis.

I am getting the distinct feeling that theyave invited me here to pump me for information, but what do I care? Theyare buying the drinks. aI ran into him after the business with Ca.s.s,a I say. Then the cafe door opens, and the waitron returns with our drinks. I shut up until his backas turned. aHe, um, I get the feeling he doesnat approve of us doing anything unpredictable, but at the same time Mick went too far. We solved a problem for him.a aOh.a Janis looks disappointed, and I mentally kick myself. What sheas really asking about is what happened in the library the day she was off sick.

aI got talking to Dr. Hanta in hospital,a I offer. aShe said, uh, well, she doesnat approve of the business with Esther and Phil at all. I got the impression she was yelling at the Bishop about it. Theyare going to add rules for divorce proceedings to the score system to stop it happening again. And rape, to stop anyone getting ideas from Mick.a aHmm.a Janis looks thoughtful. aIf they stick to a strict dark ages re-creation, theyall make rape a serious penalty score, but only if the male gets caught.a aEh?a Tammy looks indignant. aWhat good will that do?a aWhat good does any of this do?a Janis asks drily. She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a piece of knitting, which she pa.s.ses to me. aI think this is yours, you left this in the library,a she tells me.

I gulp and hastily stuff the Faraday cage lining of my botched experimental carrier into my handbag. aThanks, I sure did,a I babble.

Janis smiles slowly. aItas a bit scratchy, but it catches the light just so.a Wheels within wheels. aIt needs a bit more work,a I extemporize. aWhere did you find it?a aIn the back office. I was just tidying up.a My heart seems to be pounding, but n.o.body else has noticed. Janis looks at me, then looks at El. aWhat do you think?a she asks.

El looks up from her embroidery, harried. aI think I feel a little sick,a she says, and reaches for her pink lemonade. aChurch is going to be bad tomorrow.a aLots of developments,a Tammy agrees.

aWhat are you talking about?a I ask.

Janis nods at me: aYes, thatas right, youave been in hospital all week. Since Tuesday, anyway.a Tammy pulls out a tablet and puts it on the table. aLots of new stuff in here,a she says, tapping the screen. aYouall want to know about it.a aAbout what?a I ask.

aFor starters, it seems our last cohort is in place here.a aBut they said there were another fourteen after mineaa"I do the matha"aso weare six short. At least?a Tammy taps her tablet. aTheyave been running multiple sections of YFH-Polity in parallel. Weare just one subsector, a parish, they call it. From Monday theyare all going to be linked up, so weave got lots of new neighbors.a So far this is what Dr. Hanta told me. aAnd?a Janis gives me a long, appraising look. aItas a lot bigger than they told you outside when you were signed up. What does that suggest to you?a I look at her belly. Itas not much of a b.u.mp yet. Then, almost involuntarily, my eyes slide sideways. aEl, are you, I mean I hope Iam not prying here, but are you by any chancea"a aPregnant?a El looks at me with her baby-blue eyes and puts one hand on her stomach. aWhatever gave you that idea?a I try not to wince too obviously. aMy periodas overdue,a says Bernice.

Permanence. aWhat else are they doing?a I probe.

aThere are a lot of new facilities opening up,a Tammy explains enthusiastically. aThereas a kinematoscope, and a swimming pool and gymnastic coliseum, and a theatre. More shops, too. And City Hall will be open for business.a Bernice cracks before I do. aWhoa. Thatas a new one on me!a aI think theyare trying to make us comfortable,a says Janis.

aUs?a I ask. aOr them?a My eyes take in bellies around the table, occupied bellies. In fact, mine is the only un-occupied one here. Thanks to Sam.

aDoes it make any difference? Iam pretty sure most of us will be too busy changing nappies soon to worry about anything else.a Janis has a tone of voice that she uses when she means to convey the exact opposite of the literal meaning of her words. Sheas using it now, laying on the sarcasm with a trowel.

I smile brightly. aThen I suppose you think we should lie back and enjoy these wonderful new recreational resources!a aReeve,a Tammy says warningly, athis is serious.a aOh, you bet,a I agree enthusiastically. aAbsolutely!a I finish my drink. aIam sure you ladies have got lots of important things to be talking about, but I just remembered I havenat finished washing the dishes, and Iave got to clear out the garage before my husband gets home.a I stand up. aThanks for the weaving, Janis. See you later?a The rest of the soi-disant ladiesa sewing circle look dubious, but Janis smiles back at me, then winks. aBe seeing you!a I beat a hasty retreat. I like Janis, but this sewing circle of hers frightens me. Sheas unhappy here, that much is clear, and I donat think sheall want Dr. Hanta to help her over it. Iam going to have to tell Fiore about Janis, I realize. She needs help. After Church tomorrow?

THE journey to Church the next day is strained and tense. We dress in our Sunday best and call a taxi as usual, but Sam doesnat say anythinga"heas taken to communicating in gruntsa"and keeps casting me odd sidelong looks when he thinks I wonat notice. I pretend not to see. In truth Iam tense, too, winding myself up for the inevitable and unpleasant conversation with Fiore after the service. Church is packed these days, and weare lucky to get a seat. At least there are other churches in the other parishes (and presumably other instances of Fiore to preach in them), so itas not likely to get any more crowded. aWeall have to leave earlier in future,a I tell Sam, and he stares at me.

Fiore walks in and goes to the front, and the music strikes up, a catchy bra.s.sy little number by (my netlink tells me) a composer named Brecht. Then Fiore starts the service proper. aDear congregants, we are gathered here today in unity to recognize our place in the universe, our immutable roles in the great cycle of life, which none shall take from us. Let us praise the designers who have given us this day and all the days before us a role to fulfill! Praise the designers!a aPraise the designers!a echoes the congregation.

aDear congregants, let us remember that true meaning and happiness in life can be found through complying with the great design! A round peg in a round hole!a aA round peg in a round hole!a rolls the response.

aLet us also give thanks for the happiness that has come to Mrs. Reeve Brown, who is now most certainly a round peg in a round hole, and for the solace and comfort that members of our congregationas away team have brought to Mrs. Ca.s.sandra Green, now recovering in hospital! Happiness, comfort, and solace!a aHappiness, comfort, and solace!a I shake my head, happy but confused. I canat figure it out, why is Fiore holding me of all people up as an example to the rest of the congregation? I glance round and see Jen, a couple of aisles away, staring snake eyes at me.

aIt is our duty to care for our neighbors, to help them conform to the ways of our society, to join with them in their joy and their sorrow, their acceptance and their forgiveness. If your neighbors need you, go unto them and give them the benefit of your generosity. We are all neighbors, and those of us who are not in need this week may be among the neediest next week. Guide and care for them, and chide them when it is appropriate . . .a I begin to zone out. Fioreas voice is hypnotic, his tone rising and falling in a measured cadence. Itas warm and stuffy in Church with the doors shut, and it seems Fiore isnat going to divert from his sermon to condemn a sinner this week. For which I should be gratefula"Fiore could have decided to wreck my score for what I did last week. Despite the warmth, I find myself shivering. Heas shown more forbearance than I expected. Should I follow his example, and instead of telling him about Janis, try to set her straight myself?

a. . . For remember, you are your brotheras keepers, and by the behavior of your brethren shall you be judged. Voyage without end, amen!a aVoyage without end!a echoes the chorus. aAmen!a We stand, and thereas another sing-along, clap-along numbera"this time in a language I donat understand, about marching and freedom and bread according to the psalm booka"and then the priest and his attendants leave the front, and the service is over.

Iam a bit disappointed, but also relieved as we file out of the Church into the bright daylight, where a buffet is waiting for us. Sam is even quieter than usual, but right now I donat care. I snag a gla.s.s of wine and a plate with a wheatmeal and fungus confection on it and wander over to the vicinity of our cohort.

aDecided to settle down, have we?a asks a voice at my left shoulder. I manage to suppress a frown of distaste. Itas Jen, of course.

aI care for my neighbors,a I say, squeezing every gram of sincerity I can muster into it; then I make myself smile at her.

She beams back at me, of course. aMe too!a She trills, then glances round. aIam glad Fiore was merciful today, though. I gather some of us might have been in for a rough ride!a Sly little b.i.t.c.h. aIave no idea what youare talking about,a I begin, but itas impossible to go on because the Church bells have begun to ring. Normally they clang in a vague semblance of rhythm, but now theyare jarring and clattering as if somethingas caught up among them. People are turning and looking up at the tower. aThatas odd.a aYes, it is.a Jen sniffs dismissively and begins to turn toward a nearby knot of males.

aI havenat finished with you.a aIn your dreams, darling.a A broad grin, and she slips away.

Irritated, I look up at the tower. The door below it is ajar. Odd, I think. Itas not strictly my business, but what if somethingas come loose? I ought to get help. I deposit my gla.s.s and plate with a pa.s.sing waitron and walk toward the door, taking care to stay off the gra.s.s in my high heels.

The clashing and clattering of disturbed bells is getting louder, and thereas something dark on the front step, under the door. As I make my way to it I look down and an unpleasantly familiar stink infiltrates my nostrils, bringing tears to my eyes. I turn round, and yell, aOver here! Help!a Then I push the door open.

The bell tower is a tall s.p.a.ce illuminated by small windows just below the base of the spire. The daylight spilling down from them casts long shadows across the beams and the bells that dangle from them, jostling and clashing above the whitewashed floor, staining the spreading pool of dark liquid. Spreading black, the gray of shadows, and a pale pendulum swinging across the floor. It takes a second for my eyes to grow accustomed to the dimness, and another second before I understand what theyare showing me.

Mick, of all people, is the one playing the endless atonal carillon that summoned me. It is immediately obvious that his mastery of music is involuntary. He hangs from a bell-rope by the ankles, his head tracing an endless pendulous circuit across the floor in twin tracks of blood. Someone has taped his arms to his body, gagged him, and rammed hypodermic needles into each ear. The cannulae drip steadily, emptying whatas left of his blood supply from his purple and congested head. Loops and whorls and spirals of blood have trickled in a delicate filigree, but some unevenness in the ground leads the runnels to flow toward a pool on the inside of the door.

Iam simultaneously appalled, dumbstruck with admiration for the artistic technique on display, terrified that whoever did it might still be lurking at the scene, and utterly nauseated at my satisfaction at Mickas end. So I do the only sensible and socially expedient thing I can think of, and scream my lungs out.

The first fellow to arrive on the scenea"a couple of seconds after I get starteda"isnat much use: He takes one look at the impromptu chandelier, then doubles over and adds his lunch to the puddle. But the second on the scene turns out to be Martin, one of the volunteer gravediggers. aReeve? Are you all right?a I nod and manage to take a sobbing breath. I feel unstable, and my vision is watery. aLook.a I point. aBetter get the . . . the . . . Fiore. Heall know what to do.a aIall call the police.a Martin walks around the pool of blood and vomit carefully and picks up the telephone handset thatas fastened to the wall by the vestry entrance. ah.e.l.lo? Operator?a He jiggles the switch on top of the handset. aThatas odd.a My brain is slowly beginning to work again. aWhatas odd?a aThe telephone. Itas not making any noise. It doesnat work.a I snuffle, wipe my nose on the sleeve of my jacket, and stare at him. aThatas very odd.a Yes, a quiet corner of my mind reminds me, thatas odd, and not in a good way. aLetas go outside.a Andrewa"the guy whoas throwing upa"has just about finished, and is down to making choking, sobbing noises. Martin pulls him up by one arm, and we walk outside together. Thereas a growing crowd on the porch, curious to know whatas going on. aSomeone call the police,a Martin shouts. aGet the Reverend if you can find him!a People are pushing past him to look inside the doorway, yelling in disbelief and coming back out again.

Somebody is sending us, the congregation, a message, arenat they? I stumble but make it down onto the gra.s.s. Samas there, looking concerned. aYou were with me during the service,a I hiss. aYou were next to me the whole time. You know where I was.a aYes?a He looks puzzled. So do I. Iam not sure why Iam doing this, but . . .

aI spoke to Jen briefly, then heard the bells and went to see. Then I screamed. I was only inside for a second on my own. Wasnat I?a Sam gets it: His shoulders tense suddenly. aHow bad is it?a aMick.a I gasp quietly, then run out of words. I canat continue just now because I had to look; I saw how his killer fastened him to the bell-rope by his ankles, cutting him and running the thick rope through the meaty gap between the bone and the thick tendon. Iam half-afraid that when they cut him down, theyall discover he was raped first, while paralyzed, before his killer strung him up to drain like a slab of flesh. A moment later Iam leaning on Samas shoulder, sobbing. He doesnat pull away, but holds me in silence while all around us the crowd throbs and chatters. Iave seen many horrible things in my life, but there was a judicial deliberation implicit in what was done to Micka"a hideous moral statement, blindly confident in its own righteousness. I know exactly who did it, even though I spent the entire service next to Sam; because for hours on end I lay awake and fantasized about doing that to Mick, the night we took Ca.s.s away.

aWELL, Mrs. Brown, how fascinating to see you here! Always in the thick of things, I see.a His Excellency smiles like a skeleton, jaw agape at some private joke. Sam shuffles next to me but holds his peace. You do not talk back to the Bishop, especially when itas clear that his humor is a mercurial thing, a b.u.t.terfly floating above a blast furnace of rage at the intrusion that has spoiled his Sunday.

Fiore clears his throat. aShe is not a suspect,a he says stiffly.

aWhat?a Yourdonas head whips round like a snakeas. The police zombies around us tense as if nervous, hands going to the batons at their belts.

Itas been half an hour since I opened the door, and the cops have surrounded the churchyard. Theyare not letting people go until Yourdon says so. Heas clearly in a foul mood. Cold-blooded murder isnat something our community has had to deal with so far, and if weare to stay in the spirit of the experiment, we must remember that to the ancients it was as grievous a crime as ident.i.ty theft or relational corruption. Itas at this point that the deficiencies of our little parish become apparent. We have no real chief of police, no trained investigators. And so the Bishop is forced to tend his flock in person.

aI saw her arrive with her husband, she was present throughout the service, and numerous witnesses saw her approach the door and go inside, then heard her scream. She was alone inside for all of ten seconds, and if you think she could have committed the offense in that s.p.a.ce of time . . .a aIall ask for you to second-guess me when I canat be bothered to make up my own mind.a Yourdonas cheek twitches, then he switches his attention to Martin so abruptly I feel my knees weaken. An invisible pressure has come off my skull. aYou. What did you see?a Martin clears his throat, and is stuttering into an account of finding me screaming before a corpse when a cop walks up to Fiore for a brief, mumbled conversation.

Yourdon glares at his subordinate. aWill you stop that?a Fiore shuffles. aI have new information, Your Excellency.a aYes? Well, out with it! I havenat got all day.a Fiorea"the b.u.mptious, supercilious buffoon of a priest who likes nothing more than to lord it over his congregationa"wilts like a punctured aerostat. aA preliminary forensic examination appears to have revealed DNA traces left by the killer.a Yourdon snorts. aWhy did we wait to commission a squad of detectives? Come on, donat waste my time.a Fiore takes a sheet of paper from the cop. aPCR amplification in accordance witha"no, skip thata"determines that the fingerprint on file is congruent with, uh, myself. And n.o.body else in YFH-Polity.a Yourdon looks furious. aAre you telling me that you strung him up to bleed out?a To his credit, Fiore holds his ground. aNo, Your Excellency, Iam telling you that the murderer is playing with us.a I lean against Sam, feeling nauseous. But that was my fantasy, wasnat it? About how to deal with Mick. And I never told anyone about it. Which means, I must be the killer! Except I didnat do it. Whatas going on?

aThatas it.a Yourdon claps his hands together. aAction this daya"you, Reverend Fiore, will coordinate with Dr. Hanta to select, train, and augment a chief police constable. Who in turn will be empowered and authorized to induct four citizens into the police force at the rank of sergeant. You will also discuss with me at a later date the selection of a judge, procedures for arraigning criminals before a jury, and the appointment of an executioner.a He glares at the priest. aThen you will, I trust, return your chapel to the pristine condition it was in before I entrusted it to youa"and see to the pastoral care of your flock, many of whom are in dire need of direction!a The Bishop turns on his heel and sweeps back toward his long black limousine, trailed by a trio of police zombies bearing primitive but effective automatic weapons. I sag against Samas arm, but he keeps me upright. Fiore waits until the Bishop slams his door shut, then takes a deep breath and shakes his head lugubriously. aNo good will come of this,a he grumbles in our directiona"us, the proximate witnesses, and the zombies who discreetly hem us in. aPolice: dismissed. Citizens, you should attend to the state of your consciences. At least one of you knows exactly what happened here today, before the service, and staying silent will not be to your benefit.a The police zombies begin to disperse, followed by a gaggle of curious parishioners. I approach Fiore cautiously. Iam very disturbed, and Iam not sure this is the right time, but . . .

aYes, what is it, my child?a He narrows his eyes and composes his face in a smile of benediction.

aFather, I, I wonder if I can have a word with you?a I ask hesitantly.

aOf course.a He glances at a police zombie. aGo to the vestry, fetch a mop and bucket and cleaning materials, and begin cleaning up the floor of the bell tower.a aItas about . . .a I trail off. My conscience really is p.r.i.c.king me, but Iam not sure how to continue. I feel eyes on me from across the yard, curious eyes wondering what Iam saying.

aDo you know who did it?a Fiore demands.

aNo, I wanted to talk to you about Janis, sheas been very strange latelya"a aDo you think Janis killed him?a Bushy elevated eyebrows frame dark eyes that stare down his patrician nose at me, a nose that doesnat belong to the same face as those wattles of fatty tissue around his throat. aDo you?a aUh, noa"a aSome other time, then,a he says, and before I realize Iam dismissed, heas calling out to another police zombie, aYou! You, I say! Go to the undertaker depot and bring a coffin to the bell towera"a And a moment later heas walking away from me, ca.s.sock flapping around his boots.

aCome on,a says Sam. aLetas go home right now.a He takes me by the arm.

I screw up my eyes to keep from crying. aLetas.a He leads me across the car park toward the waiting queue of taxis. aWhat did you try to tell Fiore?a he asks quietly.

aNothing.a If he wants to know so badly, he can talk to me the rest of the time, when Iam lonely.

aI donat believe you.a Heas silent for a minute as we get into a taxi.

aThen donat believe me.a The taxi pulls away from the curb without asking us where we want to go. The zombies know us all by sight.

aReeve.a I look at him. He stares at me, his expression serious.

aWhat?a aPlease donat make me hate you.a aToo late,a I say bitterly. And right then, for exactly that moment, itas true.

17.

Mission.

ITaS raining when I wake up the day after the murder. And it rainsa"gently, lightly, but persistentlya"every day for the rest of the week, mirroring my mood to perfection.

Iave got the run of the house and doctoras orders to take things easya"no need to go in to work in the librarya"so I should be happy. I made up my mind to be happy here, didnat I? But I seem to have messed things up with Sam, and there are dark, frightening undercurrents at work around mea"people whoave made the opposite choice and whoall pounce on me in an instant if I donat tread a careful line. Now that I have time to think things through, Iam profoundly glad that Fiore wasnat paying attention when I tried to tell him about Janis. Life is getting cheaper by the week, and there are no free resurrections herea"no home a.s.semblers to back up on daily.

Am I really that worried?

Yes.

I manage to make it through to Thursday morning before I crack. I wake up with the dawn light (Iam not sleeping well at present), and I hear Sam puttering around the bathroom. I look out the window at the raindrops that steadily fall like a translucent curtain before the vegetation, and I realize that I canat stand this any more. I donat want another day on my own in the house. I know Dr. Hanta said to take the whole week off to recover, but I feel fine, and at least if I go in to work, thereall be something to do, wonat there? Someone to talk to. A friend, of sorts, even if sheas behaving weirdly these days. And even if I feel uncomfortable about what Iall say when I see her.

I dress for work, then head downstairs and call a taxi, as usual. Iam half-tempted to walk, but itas raining, and Iave neglected to buy any waterproof gear. Rain aboard a starship, whoad have imagined it? I wait just inside the front porch until the taxi pulls up, then rush over to it and pile in on the backseat. aTake me to the library,a I gasp.

aSure thing, maaam.a The driver pulls away, with a bit more acceleration than Iam used to. aWonder when this weather will stop?a Huh? I shake myself. aWhat did you say?a aI heard from Jimmy at the public works department that theyare doing it because they discovered a problem with the drainage systema"need to flush out the storm sewers. Iam Ike, by the way. Pleased to meet you.a I just about manage to recover gracefully: aIam Reeve. Been driving cabs long?a He chuckles. aSince I got here. Youare a librarian? Thatas a new one on me. I can get you downtown from here, but youall need to show me which block itas on.a aThe merger,a I manage to say.

aYeah, thatas the deal.a He taps a syncopated rhythm on the steering wheel, keeping time with the windscreen wipers, then hauls the cab through a sharp turn. aWhat does a librarian do all day?a aWhat does a cab driver do?a I counter, still shaken. Those are manual controls! They put one of us in charge of a machine like that . . . They must be serious about turning this into a functioning polity. Which means they probably figure theyave got the scoring levels loaded into our implants just about right. aPeople come in and they ask for books and we help them find them.a I shrug. aThereas more to it than that, but thatas it in a nutsh.e.l.l.a aUh-huh. Me, I drive around all day. Get a call on the wireless, go find the fare, take them where they want to go.a aSounds boring. Is it?a He laughs. aFinding books sounds boring to me, so I guess weare even! Downtown square, City Hall coming up. Where do you want to go from here?a Itas not raining in the downtown district. aDrop me off here and Iall walk the rest of the way,a I offer, but heas having none of it.

aNaah, I need to learn where everything is, donat I? So where is it?a I surrender. aNext left. Go two blocks, then take the first right and park. Youare opposite it.a I arrive at my workplace thoroughly shaken and not quite sure why. I already heard Yourdon talking about police sergeants and judges. Are we going to end up without any zombies at all, doing everything for ourselves? That would be how youad go about running an accurate dark ages social simulation, I realize, but it means things are happening on an altogether larger scale than Iad imagined.

Iam a little latea"the library is already opena"but there are no customers, so I walk straight up to the counter and smile at Janis, who is nose-down in a book. aHi!a She jerks upright, then looks surprised. aReeve. I wasnat expecting you today.a aWell, I got bored sitting around at home. Dr. Hanta said I could come in to work today if I wanted to and, well, it beats watching the rain, doesnat it?a Janis nods, but she looks unamused. She closes her book and puts it down carefully on the desk. aYes, I suppose it does.a She stands up. aWant a cup of coffee?a aYes please!a I follow her back into the staff room. It feels really good to be backa"this is where I belong. Janis is feeling low, but I can help sort that out. Then weave got a library to run! And what could be better than that? Ike can keep his smelly, dangerous cab.

aWell then.a Janis switches the kettle on and looks me up and down critically. aI may have to go out for a couple of hours. You going to be all right running the place on your own?a aNo problem!a I straighten my skirt. Maybe it was some lint?

She winces, then rubs her forehead. aPlease, not so much enthusiasm this early in the morning. Whatas gotten into you?a aIave been bored!a I manage to keep myself from squeaking. aItas been boring at home, and itas been raining all week long.a I pull out the other chair and sit down. aYou canat go shopping every day of the week, thereas only so much cleaning and tidying you can do in one house, the television is boring, and I should have stopped here to borrow some books but I thought . . .a I wind down. What have I been thinking?

aI think I see.a A wan smile tugs at the corners of her eyes. aHowas Sam?a I tense. aWhat makes you ask?a The smile fades. aHe was here yesterday. Wanted to talk about you, wanted to know my opinion . . . He doesnat feel he can talk to you, so he has to let it out with someone else. Reeve, thatas not good. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do to help?a aYes, you can change the subject.a I say it lightly, but she just about freezes right up on the spot. aSamas taken offense to something I said, and we need to sort it out between us.a My stomach churns with anger and guilt, but I bite back on it. Itas not Janisas fault after all, but Sam should know better, the pig. aWeall sort it out,a I add, trying to rea.s.sure her.