I followed the arrows, and found my way to adoor that showed a scene out of some ancient fantasy, with men andwomen wearing wisps of pastel gauze as they cavorted amid whitemarble columns and red and gold tapestries. The name “SeventhHeaven Neurosurgery,” in golden letters, drifted through the skyvisible between the columns.
I walked up to it; the images faded away, andthe door slid open. I stepped through into a sunlit forest glade,and a gentle voice said, “An attendant will be with you shortly. Abench is available to your right.”
Ordinarily I don’t need to be told where theseats are, but the bench was half-hidden by the images, whichcovered every available surface. Knowing where to look saved me asecond or two. I took a seat.
Birds flitted through the trees, green andred and blue amid the golden sunlight and green leaves. It waspretty, but I wasn’t in the mood to enjoy it.
“Seems to me it’s bad psychology, doing thewaiting room up like this,” I said to the room. “Doesn’t it remindcustomers that they can live in whatever setting they want withouthaving the whole thing fed straight into their brains?”
“Oh, no,” that soothing voice replied. “Theseare just images. You can’t touch them, or smell them, or tastethem, and your options are limited to what’s already in memory.They’re nowhere near as immersive as the dream experience we offer.A quick sample will demonstrate the difference; just five minutesand you’ll see just how unsatisfying these mere images of coloredlight really are. Shall I set a trial session up for you?”
I shuddered. “No. I’m here on familybusiness, I’m not a customer.”
“I see. Here’s Mis’ Wu to help you.”
A handsome young man appeared, stridingthrough the trees toward me, with a unicorn close on his heels. Hisdeep-gray worksuit looked incongruous in that fantasy setting, so Iwasn’t surprised, when the image skipped slightly as the real Mis’Wu stepped through the projection into the room, to see that he wasreally wearing exactly that suit.
That skip-you’d think they could avoid that,adjust the image on the fly so that it matched the real man. Maybethey just didn’t care about such details; after all, everyone whocame here knew perfectly well these trees weren’t real, thesunlight wasn’t real, the birds and unicorn didn’t exist.
In fact, I wondered whether they left thattiny flaw in there deliberately, just to remind you that thiswas a cheap illusion, and they could sell you a much betterone.
“May I help you?” Mis’ Wu asked, smiling.
I stood up. “I’m looking for Guohan Hsing,” Isaid.
“I’m afraid I don’t recognize the name.”
“Mis’ Hsing is a long-term customer,” theoffice voice said. “He has been with us almost twenty years.”
“Ah, that was before my time,” Mis’ Wusaid.
In most businesses, I’d expect a front-officetype like this to have the complete client specs somewhere in hisown head. For a dreamtank, though, what was the point? Generallyonce someone bought a permanent contract, the only people who hadto worry about her were the techs who maintained the tank and keptthe customer’s body alive. The salespeople didn’t need to know whowas stashed away in back.
At least, ordinarily they didn’t, but here Iwas, looking for my father.
“What’s your interest in Mis’ Hsing?” Wuasked.
“It’s a family matter,” I said. “I’m hisdaughter.”
Wu frowned.
“At the time of his contracting with us, Mis’Hsing had no children on record,” the office said.
I sighed. “He emancipated us,” I said.“Genetically, he has three children.”
“Legally, he has none.”
“This isn’t a legal matter; it’s a familyconcern.”
“Mis’ Wu?” the office said, indicating thatit had reached the limits of its programming.
“A family is a legal entity,” Wu said.
“A family is also a genetic network,”I said.
“What do you want with Guohan Hsing?”
“I want to be sure he’s all right. Certain…genetic issues have arisen.”
“Mis’ Hsing is in perfect health,” the officesaid. “His life chamber is functioning properly in every way.”
“I’m sure it is,” I said, smiling. “But as Isay, we have reasons to be concerned about his continued healththat have nothing to do with Seventh Heaven’s no doubt excellentservice.”
“Are you saying there’s some sort ofhereditary defect involved?” Wu asked.
“There might be, yes.”
“I believe we test our customers for suchthings,” Wu said.
“Indeed we do,” the office agreed.
This was not going as smoothly as I hadhoped. I thought for a moment, looking at Wu’s manly face, thendecided that it might be worth giving the truth a try.
“I’m also concerned,” I said, “about what’sgoing to happen to him once the sun’s above the crater wall, andNightside City gets bathed in hard ultraviolet.”
“Oh,” Wu said. “Well, as you can see, we’resafely below the surface here. We’ll continue our operationsuninterrupted.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Of course! We have contracts.”
“You won’t transfer your clients toPrometheus, or one of the mining colonies?”
“We have no plans to do so. The EtaCassiopeia division of Seventh Heaven is based right here inNightside City, in Trap Under, and we expect to stay.”
“Do you, personally, intend to stay?”I asked.
Wu looked uneasy. “I… haven’t decided,” hesaid.
“I don’t mean any offense, Mis’ Wu, but mybrother and sister and I would feel more comfortable if our fatherwas housed on Prometheus, rather than here in Nightside City. Wewould, of course, be happy to pay the cost of transferringhim.”
Wu’s uneasiness turned to misery. “I’msorry,” he said. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Under the terms of his contract, SeventhHeaven Neurosurgery is Mis’ Hsing’s legal guardian,” he said. “Weare obligated to ensure his safety. We cannot entrust it to anyoneelse.”
“Yes?”
“We’re only on Epimetheus. We can’t take himelsewhere.”
“You don’t have a branch on Prometheus? OrCass II, or out-system?”
“I regret to say we do not. All ourlife chambers are right here in Trap Under.”
Life chambers-who thought up thateuphemism for dreamtanks? “Can’t you transfer guardianship tous?”
“No, Mis’ Hsing, we can’t. Our contracts arevery firm about that; many of our clients are quite insistent onit. The idea of being passed from hand to hand-they find that verydisturbing. Our guardianship is non-transferrable.”
“But we’re his family!”
“Legally, you aren’t.”
“Can’t you wake him up and ask him ifwe can move him to Prometheus? I’m sure we can arrange matters witha company in Alderstadt, and do it in such a way that SeventhHeaven doesn’t lose any credits.”
“The potential liability in a situation likethat-no, we can’t. We can’t wake him without a court order, in anycase, and even if we did, he wouldn’t be legally competent. We havea contract and legal precedents that say as much.”
“I don’t believe this,” I said. “There mustbe some way he can be moved.”
“No, I don’t think there is.”
I stared at him for a moment, and thathandsome face of his seemed much less appealing than it had when hefirst entered.
“Fine,” I said at last. “I’m sure he’ll besafe here with you.”
“I’m sure he will, Mis’ Hsing. Honestly.”
“Could we at least get a tissue sample tocheck for genetic disorders?” I didn’t really have any use for one,so far as I knew, but I thought I might as well maintain my coverstory.
“I think we can do that. Give us forty-eighthours, and we can bring it to you. Where are you staying?”