Lawrence Watt-Evans: Realms of Light

A kilobuck wasn’t exactly going to let meretire, or even take a vacation, but it would coverround-trip fare to American City, I was pretty sure.

“Any conditions?” I asked.

“You must come alone,” it told me. “It wouldbe appreciated if you would allow the installation of a watchdogprogram in your office com, but this is not an absoluterequirement. You must be punctual and discreet.”

“No watchdog,” I said, and my smile wasn’tthere any more. This was beginning to sound dangerous. “I’ll bethere.”

“Alone,” it reminded me.

“Alone,” I agreed.

I meant it, too, if you only counted humans,but I wasn’t going to walk into a completely unknown set-up withouta little back-up. I intended to have plenty of hardware on me, andof course I carry a symbiote, like everybody else, but mine’s agood one, with optional intelligence, and I figured I’d wake it upand have it on the lookout while I was there.

I’d had another symbiote back on Epimetheus,a dumb one. It saved my life and died in the process, so when I gotto Prometheus I’d spent a good piece of my savings on getting abetter one to replace it.

That was something else that cost about halfwhat it would have on Epimetheus. There were serious advantages tobeing on a primary colony instead of a secondary one.

“You will be met,” the voice said, and thenthe connection broke.

I sat and I considered that.

Somebody was going to a lot of trouble todeal with me. Somebody in American City, presumably-but I’d neverbeen in American City, never met anyone there, knew nothing aboutthe place beyond the standard stuff in the Prometheographyprogramming I’d jacked in aboard ship.

Why would anybody want me to come to AmericanCity?

When somebody wanted to meet me somewhere, itwas usually because she wanted privacy-unless it’s a closed system,totally closed, anything you do over the com can be tapped, andanyone with any sense knows that. But even so, most people came tomy office in that case.

When somebody wanted to meet me somewhereelse, it was usually because he was seriously worried or scared,afraid that he’s being followed or that I’m beingwatched-and what the hell, maybe I was being watched. Iwouldn’t have put it past IRC to have had an eye on my office, ahigh-altitude one I couldn’t spot, or maybe a bunch ofmicrointelligences reporting back. Or if not IRC, which after allhas bigger programs to run, then maybe one of IRC’s competitors orsubcontractors, trying to figure an angle.

And when somebody insisted on completeanonymity and insisted on meeting me not just outside my office,but in another city a thousand kilometers south of Alderstadt, atthe other end of the archipelago, then we’re talking about someonewho was downright paranoid-or else, just possibly, somebody who wasconcerned with something other than privacy.

For example, getting me out by myself, aloneand relatively defenseless.

Now, I didn’t know that there wasanybody out there who wanted me dead just then, though there hadbeen a few people who might hold grudges. IRC held a grudge, butwhat I’d done to them wasn’t any big spike, really, just a bit ofgrit.

And there was a fellow back on Epimetheus bythe name of Big Jim Mishima who might not be very fond of me-butthe exact details got wiped, so he wouldn’t know why.

There was that margin player who’d missedreconstruction, but I wouldn’t expect her to have the nerve to tryanything after a close cut like that.

There were a few people I thought had gone infor reconstruction who might be after me if they hadn’t-but I was sure that most of them had gone in, and after reconstructionthey weren’t going to be bothering me, not unless the job had beenbotched.

There was Sayuri Nakada, a spoiled rich bratI’d crossed up; I didn’t know where the hell she was or what shewas doing, and she had the juice to be anywhere in human space. I’dprobably done her a favor, whether she knew it or not, but she wascrazy enough that I had no idea what she thought of me.

So I had potential enemies out there, but Icouldn’t see that any of them would have been behind this. Mishimawas still back on Epimetheus, as far as I knew, and even if he’dgotten off he wasn’t the type to come after me without knowing morethan he did.

Nakada was petty and vicious enough, but itdidn’t seem like her style, and besides, she was dependent on therest of her family, and they wouldn’t have allowed it.

If they knew about it.

The thought of the Nakada family beepedsomewhere in the back of my brain. I leaned forward and gestured atthe com.

The first screen told me that yes, a kilobuckhad been credited to my account, from a numbered account at abrokerage house. I could probably trace it back if I had to, but itwouldn’t be easy.

The second screen told me that American Citywas just about where I thought it was, and that Sayuri Nakada nolonger had any significant interests there.

But Yoshio Nakada, her great-grandfather,head of the Nakada clan and chief stockholder in NakadaEnterprises, was based there.

Grandfather Nakada knew who I was, all right.He’d paid my way off Epimetheus in return for what I’d learnedabout a little scam that was being run on great-granddaughterSayuri. As far as I knew, he had nothing against me, and Sayuricouldn’t push him around.

So maybe it wasn’t a trap. Maybe GrandfatherNakada wanted to talk to me about something. Certainly he was richenough to throw kilobucks around like that, and I could see whysomeone like him wouldn’t want to be seen coming to Alderstadt toconsult me.

Or maybe it was someone else, lower down inthe hierarchy, who had been impressed with my deal with old Yoshioand needed a detective.

Whatever it was, I’d find out soon enough.I’d be there, in the Sakai building at 22:00. I’d be alone-with mySony-Remington HG-2 loaded and active, with my symbiote on alert,and with every scanner and guard system I could get into myworksuit up and running.

Just in case.

I buzzed into American City around 18:00, to givemyself a little time to look around.

Strange place. Lots of pink glass, detachedhomes, two- or three-level malls. Bigger than Alderstadt, muchbigger; bigger than Nightside City ever was, even before the dawngot too close for comfort.

In Nightside City the Tourist Trap, thecentral business district, was always ablaze with light, thestreets awash in advertising, holos and neon and stardust. It was aconstant barrage of color and motion. The streets were always fullof people and floaters, despite the wind. The outer parts of thecity were darker and quieter, but the Trap never was.

In Alderstadt, the whole city was dark andquiet-at least at night. People stayed inside, maybe because of thecold; floaters were heavily regulated, and nobody advertised morethan two stories above street level. Biggest ad I ever saw therewasn’t much more than three meters high, a display out front of anexotics restaurant.

I’d gotten used to the low-key approach; mylast few years in Nightside I was out in the burbs, and then I’dbeen in Alderstadt ever since.

American City was the Trap turned inside out.The streets and shells and burbs were blank and silent, but to getanywhere or do anything you had to use the malls, and inside themalls the electronic circus was at full output. The air buzzed withfloaters, stardust bloomed above every doorway, holos beckoned onevery side, and the walkways were jammed.

Made me feel homesick.

Not that Nightside City ever went in soheavily for pink. That was American City’s favorite color, no doubtabout it. And of course there wasn’t any wind in the malls.

At least the malls were warm.