Alice asked, Was there an attack?
Well, duh, said Wes.
Inside or outside the canopy?
Can’t say, said Wes.
You know what? interjected Peter. In a few hours there won’t be that distinction anymore. We’ll all be outside.
Shut up, Peter, said Alice. Where was it, Wes?
The jerrys—Wes, Bill, and Ross—huddled with glances, and Wes said, We can’t say—we got it off the Jerrynet. But I’d suggest you search the WAD for “waterworks.” There’s bound to be some public account.
Fred shouted to Mary, “Tell them I was off-planet during the mid-2060s. So I missed the whole thing.” Despite the conversational drift, Mary dutifully relayed his statement to the others, but no one was interested anymore.
Peter said, I don’t find anything on the WAD. You got any other keywords for us?
I’ve said too much already, said Wes.
Give us a straight answer, damn you and your confidentiality, Alice said. Are we in any danger here?
“What are they talking about now?” Fred shouted. Mary was tired of playing his interpreter. She was saved by a truly grand roar from the crowd on the Stardeck outside the pressure curtain. Everyone inside the Zinc Room paused at the same moment to listen, causing an eerie silence in the room that stretched several surreal moments until a woman shrieked and the deafening cacophony crashed once more upon them.
Fred tapped Mary’s shoulder and gestured at the dance floor. “Those our lulus?” he shouted.
A ring of dancers had opened a little floor space for the two lulus who Mary had spotted earlier. She nodded her head, yes. Then she noticed a tiny table next to the dance floor where three evangelines sat together hunched over their drinks. They looked like the three saddest people in Chicago, and she wondered in alarm if that was how she, herself, appeared to the world. It was certainly how she felt.
It was no secret that her type was in trouble. Success stories like Shelley’s notwithstanding, more and more evangelines were turning to their sisters for mutual support. Lately, Mary spotted little groups of them eating in inexpensive restaurants. They pooled their slim resources for apartments even worse than hers and Fred’s. Soon, Mary expected to see destitute evangelines moving to the subfloors where Applied People subsidized dormitories and food courts for the underutilized. Eventually, they’d wear their poverty in the wrinkles of their faces, since Applied People did not subsidize rejuvenation treatments.
Mary switched to a public hail channel and pitched her voice to the little table. Greetings, sisters, she said, and when they looked up, she stood and waved her arm to get their attention. My friends and I have extra seats here. Please join us.
The evangelines thanked her graciously, but declined. They said they preferred it where they were, the long-suffering liars.
2.17
Yes, yes, on the bed, Wee Hunk said. The apish mentar was human-sized as it supervised the two household arbeitors that carried Meewee into the bedroom. The household mechs were designed for serving and housework, not for ferrying humans, and their hard, angular grabbers were what roused Meewee from unconsciousness.
“Let go of me!” he shouted and struggled against the arbeitors’ grip.
Quit fighting, Wee Hunk said. We’re merely moving you to the bed. You fainted.
Meewee endured the rough handling, and in a moment was dropped on top of his bed. He lay there a whole minute gathering his wits, while Wee Hunk stood over him. When the disorientation passed, he said, What happened?
As I said, you fainted. You have a fever caused by the extensive rewiring going on inside your skull, but there is nothing to be concerned about. The autodoc is monitoring your condition. By the way, you should know that I challenged Arrow, and it hasn’t been contaminated.
Contaminated by what? Meewee said.
Eleanor, in her blessed paranoia, built a fail-safe mechanism into all of us. It’s not something we can alter or even become fully aware of. If someone tampers with our basic personality bud, breaks the seal of our integrity, so to speak, or infects us with foreign matter of any sort, certain volumes of our memory are automatically wiped out, including our ability to use and comprehend Starkese. We’re not even aware of the loss. So you see, Starkese is a simple and foolproof litmus test of family loyalty.
Meewee’s attention was drifting in and out, but he thought he’d caught most of that. It was discouraging to be reminded of how little he had learned of Eleanor’s secrets in twelve years. Cabinet too?
Especially Cabinet. Eleanor was constantly challenging Cabinet, sometimes twice in the same conversation. And Cabinet challenges me each time it talks to me. Except today, I might add.
You talked to it?
Yes, briefly, after it passed probate. It didn’t challenge me.
Meewee adjusted his pillow and covered himself with the bedspread. Challenge Arrow again, he said, so I can hear it.
Gladly, Wee Hunk said. Arrow, what moving company have you engaged to move Myr Meewee from this cozy little apartment tomorrow?
Arrow replied, TUG Moving and Storage.
Excellent, my favorite movers. Ellen used them often for her Burning Daylight Productions business. When will they arrive?
Tomorrow at 1300, replied the mentar.
There, Wee Hunk said to Meewee, it passed again.
I don’t understand, Meewee said and shut his eyes as the room began to spin. It sounded like plain English to me. You asked it about moving, and it told you the TUGs and the time.
Exactly! You can piggyback a secret conversation on top of small talk. Under the talk of the movers, I asked Arrow to identify itself. And it did.
Meewee shrugged the robe from his shoulders and checked the new brainlette developing under his arm. It seemed larger than before. Arrow, he said, challenge Wee Hunk’s integrity.
Excellent idea, Wee Hunk said. You should have it do that each time we meet.
Arrow said, Complying. “Wee Hunk, shall I fetch a surgeon to examine Myr Meewee?”
Wee Hunk replied, “No, Arrow, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. But bring him a glass of sparkling water.”
One of the arbeitors immediately rolled out of the room to fetch the water.
Well? Meewee said. Report.
Arrow replied, Wee Hunk is not contaminated.
Wee Hunk mopped his monkey-sized forehead with the back of his hand. Whew, that’s a load off. Why don’t you try to get a little sleep now, Myr Meewee. It’ll facilitate the rewiring.
MEEWEE SAW A giant spider, the Arachnid Mundus, crouching over the planet. It had a tremendous and fecund ovipositor, like a fire hose spraying Earth with eggs. Which was confusing; Meewee had always thought spiders gave live birth.