Vernor Vinge - Rainbows End

"Okay," said Xiang. "I should leave too. How is that most gracefully accomplished?"

"Ha! Most graceful takes practice — but I want it to look cool to anyone watching." He pointed at the teams rowdying about on the soccer field. "For them, I mean. So how about if I iconify-and-guide you, Dr. Xiang?"

"Very good."

Xiang's image collapsed into a ruby point of light.

The boy stood and grinned at Robert. "I think I have the geometry good enough that no one has to cooperate on the receiving side." His image climbed down the bleachers. His shadow matching was much better than Sharif normally managed. Xiang's icon tagged along right above his shoulder. He reached the grass and walked away along the edge of the bleachers, his figure shortening in perspective.

And then abruptly, golden letters hung across Robert's vision.

Xiang — > Gu: See you tomorrow!

Huh. So that's what silent messaging looked like. Robert watched the two till they were out of sight.

Lena — > Miri, Xiu: Wow! I can't tell Juan's image from the real people. That boy is clever.

Miri — > Lena, Xiu: He did okay.

Robert had no more classes. He could go home now, too. There were plenty of rides available; the cars flocked to the traffic circle when the children were going home. But just now, Robert wasn't keen on getting back to Fallbrook. He saw that Miri would be arriving home in a few minutes. Bob was on watch duty tonight — whatever that meant. Any run-in with Miri would bring Alice Gu into action. Robert was amazed that he'd ever thought his daughter-in-law was smooth and diplomatic. In a subtle way, she was scary. Or maybe it was simply that Robert realized that if Alice ever became determined, he would be exiled to "Rainbows End." (He'd never been able to decide if that spelling was the work of an everyday illiterate or someone who really understood the place.)

Okay, so hang around school and watch. There were dynamics here that were unchanged since his childhood, perhaps unchanged since the beginning of human history. He would rebuild his sense of superiority. He climbed to the south corner of the bleachers, far above the kids forming up soccer teams, and even clear of the secretive children who sat at the other end making barely veiled jokes about everyone else.

Miri — > Lena, Xiu: He should be going home now.

Lena — > Miri, Xiu: Not my monster. See the far look in his eyes? He's thinking about everything that's happened, figuring out just how to cause Xiu grief.

Xiu — > Lena, Miri: He has seemed pretty normal since he went crazy in shop class.

Xiu — > Lena, Miri: No, Lena, please use silent messaging. I know I just sat down by you at the kitchen table. But I want to get some practice.

Lena — > Miri: Sigh. Xiu's a dear, but she can be so obsessive.

Xiu — > Lena: Yoo-hoo, Lena! What are you typing to Miri?

The sun was lowering behind him, and the shadow of the bleachers extended partway onto the field. He had a naked-eye view of most of the campus. In fact, the buildings looked like junk, the sort of thing you used to buy mail-order if you needed some extra storage in your backyard. But it wasn't all new junk. The school's main auditorium was wood, rebuilt here and there with plastic. According to the labels he called up on overlay, it had originally been a pavilion for showing horses!

Xiu — > Lena, Miri: I think he's just training his Epiphany.

Focus on the soccer field. That looked like something from Bobby's school years — if you didn't mind the fact that there were no line marks or goals. Robert brought up the sports view, and now he could see the usual field layout. The soccer kids moved out onto the field. They wore crash equipment, real helmets, quite unlike what he remembered. The kids' high-pitched voices wafted direct to him without any magic of modern electronics. They circled around midfield, seemed to be listening to someone.

With a whoop, the teams rushed toward each other, chasing — what?

An unseen ball? Robert searched frantically through his options, saw a flickering parade of possible overlays. Aha ! Now the teams had spectacular uniforms, and there were umpires. In the bleachers, there was a scattering of adults — teachers? parents? — what you'd expect for a contest that was more a class event than varsity sport.

Xiu — > Lena, Miri: What is that game?

Miri — > Lena, Xiu: Egan soccer.

Xiu — > Lena, Miri: He's just watching the game, Lena.

Lena — > Miri, Xiu: Maybe.

Xiu — > Lena, Miri: I think Juan is right about him, Lena. Let me talk to him. You'd still be covered.

Xiu — > Lena: Don't be that way.

Robert still couldn't see the soccer ball. Instead, the field was now covered by a golden fog. In places it came almost to the players' waists. Tiny numbers floated within the mist, changing with the thickness and brightness of the glow. When the players of opposing teams rushed into close contact, the glow flared brightly, and the children would angle around each other as if trying to line up a kick. And then the light would erupt like an arc of wildfire across the field.

Xiu — > Lena, Miri: What about Sharif, Miri? You use him to talk to Robert, right?

Miri — > Lena, Xiu: Yes. I thought Sharif would be a perfect cat's-paw. He has the right academic background to talk to Robert. And he has terrible personal hygiene! It was easy to take him over. Trouble is, so did somebody else. Mostly we're getting in each other's way. Hey!

Xiu — > Lena, Miri: I've lost all the close-up views on your grandfather.

Miri — > Lena, Xiu: We've lost local audio, too. That was seamless. I didn't know Robert was that swift.

Lena — > Miri, Xiu: I warned you.

One child broke away from the others and raced along the golden fire, somehow guessing just where and when it would flare up. The girl gave an odd, flailing kick — and landed on her rear. For an instant there was a light in the nearest goal, so sharp and intense it was as if all the fog had suddenly coalesced into the fuzzy image of a soccer ball. Everybody was shouting, even the phantom adults in the bleachers.

Robert made a grumpy noise. Even something as simple as a schoolyard game didn't make sense. He pulled at his cuff, trying to get a clearer view.

"It's not your fault, my man. You're seeing properly." The voice seemed to be coming from right beside him. Robert glanced over, but there was no body to keep the voice company. He stared into the empty space, and after a moment, the voice continued. "Just look at the scoreboard. Everything is fuzzy about this game, even the score." On the big scoreboard facing the bleachers, the goal was recorded as 0.97. "I do think that should be rounded to one. That was an excellent, near-certain goal the girl kicked." On the field, the teams had retreated to their sides. Another phantom kickoff was in progress.

Robert kept his eyes on the action below. He didn't reply to the helpful voice. "You don't recognize the game, do you, Professor? It's Egan soccer. See — " A reference floated across his vision, everything anyone could want to know about Egan soccer. Out on the field, three kids had fallen over, and two had collided. "Of course," the voice continued, "it's really just an approximation to the ideal."

"I'll bet," said Robert, and he almost smiled. The stranger's tone was confiding, the speech affected — and almost every sentence was a mild put-down. It was a pleasure to run into a type he understood so well. He turned and looked into the empty space. "Run along, kid. You're a long way from being able to play head games with me."

"I don't play games, my man." The reply started out angry, segued back to patronizing good humor. "You are an interesting case, Robert Gu. I'm used to manipulating people, but usually through intermediaries. I'm much too busy to chat with bottom dwellers directly. But you intrigue me."