Read Online The Causal Angel (Jean le Flambeur) by Hannu Rajaniemi - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hannu Rajaniemi
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family who could do with a new start in Supra City.’ The last part is true as well: one of Mieli’s fallen squadmates had cubs in the Belt. ‘Especially now that the Sobornost has decided to eat everything inside the orbit of Mars. That’s why we came here. But I guess it’s all for nothing now.’
Barbicane lets out a bellows-like sigh. ‘Well, Colonel! That’s quite a story! But you are being a good sport! Perhaps we can still work something out.’
Barbicane hovers from his chair to a copper globe showing an engraved old-fashioned map of Earth, but with a strangely tilted axis – the Antarctic is near the equator. He opens it deftly with his manipulator hand, takes out a bottle of a dark amber liquor and three glasses, and pours. He looks at me seriously.
‘Names are not important! For us, only entanglement matters. The spime you gave us was impressive. I’m still interested!’
‘On the contrary,’ Chekhova says. ‘If the Colonel’s item is genuine and came from Earth recently, we should stay as far away from it as possible.’
Barbicane raises his eyebrows.
‘You know how closely we are being watched by the Great Game Zoku these days,’ Chekhova says. ‘What do you think they will do if we acquire something that might be infested with Dragons ?’
Barbicane purses his lips.
‘True,’ he says. ‘Damn their eyes!’
‘The Great Game? What does she mean?’
‘A guardian zoku! Protects us from existential threats, or so they claim! Rose to power after the Spike.’ Barbicane’s face grows dark. ‘They converted some junior Club members, to report on more ambitious experiments! Said they endangered spacetime. Phsaw!’ He looks at his drink mournfully. ‘But I confess, Colonel, Chekhova has a point! It’s a delicate time.’
I look at Chekhova. What game is she playing? Does she have something to do with the Great Game Zoku? I don’t want to risk a direct confrontation with them, not yet. Perhaps I should pull back and try again via a different route. But it has taken a lot of effort and time to set the current job up. Time that Mieli may not have.
‘I have comrades to think about, Elder,’ I say. ‘As it happens, I’ve also had interest from a Narrativist zoku in Supra City: I believe they would like to transport it into a Realm and use it for a setting in a confined-space drama of some sort – not that I really understand these things.’
Barbicane sneers. ‘Give it to Narrativists! Ridiculous! A piece of matter shaped by nuclear fire, made for a purpose!’
‘But we must consider—’ Chekhova tries to speak, but Barbicane waves his gun-hand to stop her.
‘A great shame, to turn it into a – metaphor!’ he roars.
I decide to throw more fuel into the fire.
‘I mean, really. I have heard a lot about the Gun Club. Wasn’t it your Hawking holeships that stopped the Protocol War from being an even bigger disaster? The only things that can take out a guberniya , from what I hear. And you are telling me that you are afraid of another zoku who thinks you are playing with fire?’ I shake my head slowly. ‘I think I would be better off with the Narrativists. It sounds to me like your children out there have more courage than you.’
I am not just talking to them. I’m talking to the whole zoku: they are acting as its avatars in the Circle of the train.
‘I bring you a historical object, a shell from the biggest gun ever built before the post-Collapse era, and you don’t want it because it might be dirty ? Please.’ I get up. ‘I will take my business elsewhere.’
Barbicane lifts into the air and spins around slowly, thruster legs burning holes in his chair’s upholstery. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he is thinking hard. Then he spins around and thrusts his gun arm straight at my face.
‘Ah ha! I have an idea, Colonel! A compromise! Will satisfy the zoku volition! Chekhova is a Dragon expert! She will inspect the item in the Arsenal, at molecular level! That
Barbicane lets out a bellows-like sigh. ‘Well, Colonel! That’s quite a story! But you are being a good sport! Perhaps we can still work something out.’
Barbicane hovers from his chair to a copper globe showing an engraved old-fashioned map of Earth, but with a strangely tilted axis – the Antarctic is near the equator. He opens it deftly with his manipulator hand, takes out a bottle of a dark amber liquor and three glasses, and pours. He looks at me seriously.
‘Names are not important! For us, only entanglement matters. The spime you gave us was impressive. I’m still interested!’
‘On the contrary,’ Chekhova says. ‘If the Colonel’s item is genuine and came from Earth recently, we should stay as far away from it as possible.’
Barbicane raises his eyebrows.
‘You know how closely we are being watched by the Great Game Zoku these days,’ Chekhova says. ‘What do you think they will do if we acquire something that might be infested with Dragons ?’
Barbicane purses his lips.
‘True,’ he says. ‘Damn their eyes!’
‘The Great Game? What does she mean?’
‘A guardian zoku! Protects us from existential threats, or so they claim! Rose to power after the Spike.’ Barbicane’s face grows dark. ‘They converted some junior Club members, to report on more ambitious experiments! Said they endangered spacetime. Phsaw!’ He looks at his drink mournfully. ‘But I confess, Colonel, Chekhova has a point! It’s a delicate time.’
I look at Chekhova. What game is she playing? Does she have something to do with the Great Game Zoku? I don’t want to risk a direct confrontation with them, not yet. Perhaps I should pull back and try again via a different route. But it has taken a lot of effort and time to set the current job up. Time that Mieli may not have.
‘I have comrades to think about, Elder,’ I say. ‘As it happens, I’ve also had interest from a Narrativist zoku in Supra City: I believe they would like to transport it into a Realm and use it for a setting in a confined-space drama of some sort – not that I really understand these things.’
Barbicane sneers. ‘Give it to Narrativists! Ridiculous! A piece of matter shaped by nuclear fire, made for a purpose!’
‘But we must consider—’ Chekhova tries to speak, but Barbicane waves his gun-hand to stop her.
‘A great shame, to turn it into a – metaphor!’ he roars.
I decide to throw more fuel into the fire.
‘I mean, really. I have heard a lot about the Gun Club. Wasn’t it your Hawking holeships that stopped the Protocol War from being an even bigger disaster? The only things that can take out a guberniya , from what I hear. And you are telling me that you are afraid of another zoku who thinks you are playing with fire?’ I shake my head slowly. ‘I think I would be better off with the Narrativists. It sounds to me like your children out there have more courage than you.’
I am not just talking to them. I’m talking to the whole zoku: they are acting as its avatars in the Circle of the train.
‘I bring you a historical object, a shell from the biggest gun ever built before the post-Collapse era, and you don’t want it because it might be dirty ? Please.’ I get up. ‘I will take my business elsewhere.’
Barbicane lifts into the air and spins around slowly, thruster legs burning holes in his chair’s upholstery. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he is thinking hard. Then he spins around and thrusts his gun arm straight at my face.
‘Ah ha! I have an idea, Colonel! A compromise! Will satisfy the zoku volition! Chekhova is a Dragon expert! She will inspect the item in the Arsenal, at molecular level! That
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