Read Online Transreal Cyberpunk by Rudy Rucker, Bruce Sterling - Free Book Online
Authors: Rudy Rucker, Bruce Sterling
Ads: Link
and three of them came to help us.
They told us about Nina on our way back. All day she had paced and fidgeted, worrying about Vlad and trying to talk the soldiers into a rescue mission. Finally, despite their good advice, she had set off after us alone.
The aurora fireworks during the night had terrified the Uzbeks. They were astonished to see that we had not only survived, but triumphed.
But we had to tell them that Nina was gone.
Sergeant Mukhamed produced some 200-proof ethanol from the de-icing tank of his byutor . Weeping unashamedly, we toasted the memory of our lost comrade, State Security Captain Nina Igorovna Bogulyubova. After that we had another round, and I made a short but dignified speech about those who fall while storming the cosmos. Yes, dear Captain Nina was gone; but thanks to her sacrifice, we, her comrades, had achieved an unprecedented victory. She would never be forgotten. Vlad and I would see to that.
We had another toast for our cosmic triumph. Then another for the final victory. Then we were out of drinks.
The Uzbeks hadn’t been idle while Vlad and I had been gone. They didn’t have live ammo, but a small bear had come snuffling round the camp the day before and they’d managed to run over him with one of the byutors . The air reeked of roast bear meat and dripping fat. Vlad and I had a good big rack of ribs, each. The ribs in my chunk were pretty broken up, but it was still tasty. For the first time, I felt like a real hero. Eating bear meat in Siberia. It was a heck of a thing.
Now that we were back to the byutors , our problems were behind us and we could look forward to a real “rain of gold.” Medals, and plenty of them. Big dachas on the Black Sea, and maybe even lecture tours in the West, where we could buy jazz records. All the Red Army boys figured they had big promotions coming.
We broke camp and loaded the carriers. Vlad wouldn’t join in the soldiers’ joking and kidding. He was still mooning about Nina. I felt sorry for Vlad. I’d never liked Nina much, and I’d been against her coming from the first. The wilderness was no place for females, and it was no wonder she’d come to grief. But I didn’t point this out to Vlad. It would only have made him feel worse. Besides, Nina’s heroic sacrifice had given a new level of deep moral meaning to our effort.
We packed the drive away in the first byutor where Vlad and I could keep an eye on it. Every time we stopped to refuel or study the maps, Vlad would open its wrappings and have a peek. I teased him about it. “What’s the matter, comrade? Want to chain it to your leg?”
Vlad was running his hand over and over the drive’s rusty surface. Beneath his polishing strokes, a faint gleam of silver had appeared. He frowned mightily. “Nikita, we must never forget that this is no soulless machine. I’m convinced it takes its form from what we make of it. It’s a frozen idea—that’s it true essence. And if you and I forget it, or look aside, it might just vanish.”
I tried to laugh him out of it, but Vlad was serious. He slept next to it both nights, until we reached the rail spur.
We followed the line to the station. Vlad telegraphed full particulars to Moscow and I sent along a proud report to Higher Circles.
We waited impatiently for four days. Finally a train arrived. It contained some rocket-drive technicians from the Baikonur Cosmodrome, and two dozen uniformed KGB. Vlad and I were arrested. The Red Army boys were taken in custody by some Red Army brass. Even the Latvian who ran the station was arrested.
We were kept incommunicado in a bunk car. Vlad remained cheerful, though. “This is nothing,” he said, drawing on his old jailbird’s lore. “When they really mean business, they take your shoelaces. These KGB are just protective custody. After all, you and I have the greatest secret in cosmic history!” And we were treated well—we had red caviar, Crimean champagne, Kamchatkan king crab, blinis with
They told us about Nina on our way back. All day she had paced and fidgeted, worrying about Vlad and trying to talk the soldiers into a rescue mission. Finally, despite their good advice, she had set off after us alone.
The aurora fireworks during the night had terrified the Uzbeks. They were astonished to see that we had not only survived, but triumphed.
But we had to tell them that Nina was gone.
Sergeant Mukhamed produced some 200-proof ethanol from the de-icing tank of his byutor . Weeping unashamedly, we toasted the memory of our lost comrade, State Security Captain Nina Igorovna Bogulyubova. After that we had another round, and I made a short but dignified speech about those who fall while storming the cosmos. Yes, dear Captain Nina was gone; but thanks to her sacrifice, we, her comrades, had achieved an unprecedented victory. She would never be forgotten. Vlad and I would see to that.
We had another toast for our cosmic triumph. Then another for the final victory. Then we were out of drinks.
The Uzbeks hadn’t been idle while Vlad and I had been gone. They didn’t have live ammo, but a small bear had come snuffling round the camp the day before and they’d managed to run over him with one of the byutors . The air reeked of roast bear meat and dripping fat. Vlad and I had a good big rack of ribs, each. The ribs in my chunk were pretty broken up, but it was still tasty. For the first time, I felt like a real hero. Eating bear meat in Siberia. It was a heck of a thing.
Now that we were back to the byutors , our problems were behind us and we could look forward to a real “rain of gold.” Medals, and plenty of them. Big dachas on the Black Sea, and maybe even lecture tours in the West, where we could buy jazz records. All the Red Army boys figured they had big promotions coming.
We broke camp and loaded the carriers. Vlad wouldn’t join in the soldiers’ joking and kidding. He was still mooning about Nina. I felt sorry for Vlad. I’d never liked Nina much, and I’d been against her coming from the first. The wilderness was no place for females, and it was no wonder she’d come to grief. But I didn’t point this out to Vlad. It would only have made him feel worse. Besides, Nina’s heroic sacrifice had given a new level of deep moral meaning to our effort.
We packed the drive away in the first byutor where Vlad and I could keep an eye on it. Every time we stopped to refuel or study the maps, Vlad would open its wrappings and have a peek. I teased him about it. “What’s the matter, comrade? Want to chain it to your leg?”
Vlad was running his hand over and over the drive’s rusty surface. Beneath his polishing strokes, a faint gleam of silver had appeared. He frowned mightily. “Nikita, we must never forget that this is no soulless machine. I’m convinced it takes its form from what we make of it. It’s a frozen idea—that’s it true essence. And if you and I forget it, or look aside, it might just vanish.”
I tried to laugh him out of it, but Vlad was serious. He slept next to it both nights, until we reached the rail spur.
We followed the line to the station. Vlad telegraphed full particulars to Moscow and I sent along a proud report to Higher Circles.
We waited impatiently for four days. Finally a train arrived. It contained some rocket-drive technicians from the Baikonur Cosmodrome, and two dozen uniformed KGB. Vlad and I were arrested. The Red Army boys were taken in custody by some Red Army brass. Even the Latvian who ran the station was arrested.
We were kept incommunicado in a bunk car. Vlad remained cheerful, though. “This is nothing,” he said, drawing on his old jailbird’s lore. “When they really mean business, they take your shoelaces. These KGB are just protective custody. After all, you and I have the greatest secret in cosmic history!” And we were treated well—we had red caviar, Crimean champagne, Kamchatkan king crab, blinis with
Similar Books
