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"What?" Toby made himself take a deep breath. His mind reeled with harsh,
violent imagery. Nausea burned his throat.
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"Come on, let her speak."
"No!"
--fevered skin softly resistant, a cupped rosy breast--
"You'd have to anyway, before the Council," Cermo said reasonably.
"Any objection she has, I can talk her out of it," Killeen said affably.
"Come on, son."
--tongue flicking in damp hollows, secret crevices--
"No!"
Killeen's smile hardened. "Yeasay. Now."
Shibo said, If it causes this, I'll think again. I don't want to see you two
--
No! Toby sent to her in the confines of her imprisonment. No.
Killeen's mouth hardened. "Now. And I mean it."
Toby broke to his left. He didn't have much hope but he dug in, revving his
knee-servos to max, feeling their surging whine beneath his skin.
Shouts behind him. They probably could run him down but he would give them a
chase anyway. He leaned into it, puffing hard.
Then the shouts became hoarse, shrill. He snapped his head around.
Quath was blocking Cermo and Killeen, moving with surprising speed. She shot
out a telescoping leg and hooked Cermo's foot, tripping him. Killeen she
stopped with a rude bump, sending him sprawling.
Toby was astounded, but he didn't let it slow his pounding boots. He got out
of the park and plunged into the busy streets beyond.
Escape has two steps: first, separating from the pursuer. Then, distancing
yourself from the incident, so nobody suspects the distant hubbub has you as
its prey.
Toby cut down alleys where he could, leaped clean over a stubby building--his
servos cutting in hard--and dodged his way through three streets, faster than
he could think through a plan. People chuckled and shouted at him but they
seemed to assume he was a mere oddity, not a thief escaping from a job. He
relaxed slightly and had the presence of mind to wave at the curious, smiling
broadly, as though this was some stunt.
Pretty soon he slowed to a fast walk and nobody seemed much interested in him.
He angled through an open-air market without attracting more than the usual
attention paid his size. He made his breathing slow. His antic, popping
anxiety faded.
Without thinking he found that he had circled around, always turning right
when he could. Ingrained Family training. Coming around on your
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pursuer let you know where he was, since he was following your trail. You
could decide whether to take him by surprise, but you had to do it before the
tracker realized what you were doing. Or else you took off in a totally
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different direction, taking time to cover your tracks.
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196
Gregory Benford
Only in a city there was no tracking, unless Toby had stirred up a crowd
somewhere to mark his passage. But Killeen and Cermo couldn't talk easily with
these dwarves, especially in their mood. So he might have a margin of time.
He had ended up behind the park. A chase moves away from the start and usually
nobody thinks to check back there. He had learned that playing in the dusty
streets of Citadel Bishop, then later again, dodging mechs. Now he hoped that
his own father couldn't read him that deeply.
The thought made him fidgety, glancing around corners before exposing himself
on the approach to the park area. After all, Killeen had played him like a
penny flute lately.
No sign of Killeen or Cermo. No shouts or unusual hurry. He leaned against a
building, eyeing the park a block away.
This was only a temporary victory. The Family would comb this city and pluck
him out.
He felt a familiar cool signal in his comm. Quath, apparently, had played the
same kind of games as a child--or hatchling, or whatever the
Myriapodia were when young. But Toby couldn't see her anywhere.
The bulky form was above him, clinging somehow to the side of a building,
concealed in shadow. Nobody nearby had noticed.
"With Dad acting that way, it had to happen."
"Freedom starts between the ears, sticky-paws. I had to follow what I
know. So did you. Thanks."
"Really? Do you think I should give Shibo back to him?"
"Come on!"
symphonies.>
Toby leaned against a wall, watching Quath clamber down the gray ceramic
building--which shuddered and popped with the strain--and said, "I don't hear
much music these days, buggo. Just noise."
"How would you know?"
"You don't have unconscious thoughts? I mean, impulses, things that just turn
up when you're not thinking about them?"
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is made by adding segments atop older elements. Not I. Your makeshift
construction is typical of a phylum which has not reshaped itself
fundamentally.>
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197
"Maybe we like ourselves the way we are."
understandable. I delegate to my under-selves. Is it that way for you?>
"Ummm." He recalled the sensuous moments, his deep, troubling sweats. "Not
really."
"So I can't really think about Shibo? That's why I'm so messed up?"
He felt exhausted, and not from his running. He let himself slide down, back
to the wall, legs splaying out until he was sitting in the alley.
Factions hide offstage and shout from the wings. They are your suppressed,
accomplice minds, and you cannot consult them directly, as can I.>
"That's ... why we feel so much ..."
bloodknot clash. I can speak to all my subminds, which does relieve some of
the tough, sinewy agonies.>
"And we can't."
your layered mind can speak.>
Toby wondered if he would ever know what stormy emotions tossed him about on
the surface of a deep, troubled inner sea. He shrugged. "In that case, maybe
I'll feel a smidge better if I do something more than sit on my fat ass,
waitin' for Cermo to fall over me here."
them. I may have merely worsened your position in this grave matter. >
"Hey, without you I'd be having my spinal chips picked clean." Toby got to his
feet, feeling lighter, easier in himself.
"Like my grandfather used to say, bug-brain--Cheer up! We'll live to piss on
the graves of our enemies." It seemed odd to be giving Quath a pep talk.
"Part of the line. We got plenty more like him." It felt good to say it, even [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]