Read Online Geosynchron by David Louis Edelman - Free Book Online Page B

sign of other human
habitation for a kilometer or more. A dark green Falcon hoverbird sits
parked next to the building. Natch offers no resistance as Petrucio eggs
him through the hatch and then climbs aboard after him.
    "Frederic not coming?" yawns a bored pilot almost thin enough to
get lost between the seats.

    "He'll catch up with us later," replies Petrucio drily.
    The pilot doesn't seem to care. "Ready?"
    "Ready. And thanks again for letting us use the basement, Hiro.
We owe you one."
    The pilot nods, yawns again, initiates the hoverbird's launch
sequence. Seconds later, they are off. Once they've climbed high
enough to see the surrounding territory, Natch starts scanning the
horizon for landmarks. He zooms in on the corroded husk of a building
far off in the distance, pointing to the heavens like a finger. Pinging
the Data Sea with the image, Natch confirms that this is the Banespa
Building of Sao Paulo, one of the tallest ancient skyscrapers still
standing. Petrucio, meanwhile, gazes nervously to both starboard and
port as the vehicle rises; he visibly relaxes when he determines there's
no one else around.
    Natch is strapped into a chair opposite Petrucio, watching the
retreating fog-shrouded lights of the city. He can't say why he doesn't
fear the dartgun in Petrucio's hand, even though it remains aimed at
his head for the entire ascent. Nor does he understand why that head
is still seated firmly on his shoulders and not rolling on a cold tile floor
at Frederic Patel's feet. He reaches up and rubs the spot on his neck
where the cold steel of the blade touched his flesh. All he can think is
that he is glad to be alive.
    Glad? Yes, definitely glad to be alive.
    As soon as the 'bird levels off, Natch is astounded to see Petrucio
flipping his dartgun around and offering it to the entrepreneur grip
first. Natch reaches out hesitantly and lets Petrucio push it into his
hands.
    He feels a mental ping. "We'll talk over ConfidentialWhisper, if
you don't mind," says Patel, arching his eyebrows in the direction of
the pilot. Probably a needless precaution; the rhythmic bobbing of the
thin man's neck hints that he is absorbed in some slow, sensuous
groove on the Jamm. Natch shrugs.

    Petrucio leans back and stretches one arm over the seat next to
him. "There's three darts left in the gun," he says. "When we land on
the outskirts of Angelos, you're going to plug Hiro in the back once,
and then use the last two darts on me." His voice is disarmingly calm.
Up front, Hiro blithely runs a hand over the instrument panel, still
lost in his musical reverie. "Don't worry, it's nothing dangerous," continues Patel. "Temporary blackout. Same thing I used on Frederic."
    The entrepreneur stares at the dartgun in his hand. Natch's
memory has sprouted a disconcerting number of leaks lately, but to the
best of his recollection he has never actually held a black code weapon
before. It's significantly lighter than he expected. "What makes you
think I'm going to do any of that?" he says.
    "Because it'll give you a two-hour head start."
    Natch frowns. "You're going to chase after me?"
    "I won't. But Magan Kai Lee will. He's on his way to Sao Paulo
now, with Borda on his tail."
    Natch leans forward in the seat and ducks his head under the
canopy of his clasped hands. He closes his eyes to block out the
dartgun in his lap and pictures the diminutive Council lieutenant.
Natch has always believed that human beings are constructed on scaffolds of emotion and irrationality, scaffolds that invariably have their
weak struts. He has built his career on this belief. But Magan Kai Lee
does not seem to have such an architecture; he's a man of rigid calculation all the way through. Natch tries to recall the first time he ever
saw the lieutenant, back when he was just another faceless minion of
Len Borda's ubiquitous military and intelligence force. He has a fleeting memory of Magan standing on the stage of a Council