David Edelman - Infoquake

Natch's face remained deadly serious, and Petrucio muzzled his glee with great effort. He peered back over his shoulder at the 35meter dropoff just behind his heels. A long way to plunge just to see if the SeeNaRee's automatic pain cutoff was operational. Petrucio straightened his tie and brushed ice crystals off his jacket, gestures to signal his command of the situation. "Natch, what would we gain by hiring some goons to hit you with black code? It just doesn't make any sense. How do I know you're not just making the whole thing up?"

"Don't be a fool, 'Trucio," snapped Natch irritably. "You've got the whole MultiReal market to gain. Billions of customers and no competition."

"That's absolutely ludicrous. We're not just your competitors anymore, Natch-we're your licensees. If I hired someone to kill you, who knows where control of MultiReal would end up?"

"It would stay with Margaret, who's scared for her life-"

-and wants nothing to do with us anymore. Follow the logic, Natch! She'd just find someone else to partner with. Haven't you ever heard the old adage about preferring the enemy you know to the enemy you don't?"

"How pithy. You're the second person to tell me that this week."

"Obviously, you have a lot of enemies then. Listen, Natch, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that the Patel Brothers are your friends. I don't like you. I never have. But just because we're not your comrades doesn't mean we don't know how to compete honorably."

Now it was Natch's turn to let out a hearty laugh. "What about MemoryMiner 98c? Do you call that honorable?"

Patel sighed and stroked his elegantly waxed moustache in consternation. "I don't know if there's anything I could possibly say to convince you that I had nothing to do with this so-called black code incident. Okay, I'll admit, MemoryMiner 98c-that was a shitty thing to do. But that was a long time ago, Natch. And what about all of those dirty tricks you've played on us in the past couple years? Remember DeMirage 24.5? NiteFocus 13, 34 and 48? Your reputation in this business isn't exactly unblemished. Shall we count citations from the Meme Cooperative and see which company is the cleanest?"

"Fine, let's."

Petrucio rolled his eyes. "I've already told you, Natch. We don't do business like that anymore. I've gone through a lot in the past year. This whole MultiReal opportunity has turned the company upsidedown. I've been far too busy preparing for our presentation-which, in case you've forgotten, starts in two hours-to worry about you. My companion died-"

"Please, Petrucio, spare me the sad stories. You slept with half the channelers in the eastern hemisphere behind that woman's back. Don't tell me you've had some kind of eleventh-hour conversion."

The elder Patel's nostrils flared and his moustache twitched in rage. Natch thought Petrucio would definitely cut his multi connection now, but instead the man stayed and slowly mastered his anger. "After my companion died, I made some changes in my life," Patel said in a low voice, whipping aside the lapel of his jacket to reveal a small pin in the shape of a black-and-white swirl.

Natch blinked hard and took a step back in surprise. Petrucio Patel a truthteller? "Anyone can wear a pin," Natch gulped.

"Check the membership rolls-it's public information. I took the oath a few weeks after she was gone. The Bodhisattva of Creed Objective himself administered it to me. You know what that means, don't you? It means I would be honor-bound to tell you if I knew anything about any black code."

"How come this is the first time I've heard anything about it?"

"The creed has several hundred million members. Not all of us who pledge are crass enough to advertise it on our chests, like your friend Merri."

Natch paced back and forth on the icy plain, his eyes tracing the patterns their footsteps made in the snow. It was not outside the realm of possibility that Petrucio was making the whole thing up, although the details of his story were easily verifiable. More likely he simply planned to not get caught telling lies. According to the drudges, Creed Objectivv's enforcement of the truthtelling oath was only slightly more effective than the Meme Cooperative's enforcement of fiefcorp business ethics.

"So let's say I take you at your word," said Natch frostily. "You had nothing to do with this black code attack. You're a devotee of Creed Objective now. You're an honorable businessman. What about Frederic?"

A look of stupefaction dashed across Petrucio Patel's face until his features abruptly morphed into a perfect PokerFace. "And exactly what are you suggesting?" he said.

Natch narrowed his eyes to slits as he strode up to his rival's face, close enough to take a bite out of his hawkish nose. "I know all about those Objective tricks," said Natch. "You pledge to always tell the truth, so you play subtle word games. `I had nothing to do with this. I didn't hire anybody to ambush you in the street. I've been far too busy preparing for our presentation.' But listen carefully, Petrucio. Until you can prove to me that both you and Frederic are playing on the level, the Patel Brothers are number one on my hit list. And you haven't seen how I do business when I'm really pissed off. I'll tear you to pieces. I'll use every fucking trick outlawed by the Meme Cooperative. I'll throw that MultiReal license to the dogs without thinking twice about it, and fuck the consequences."

Petrucio nodded almost imperceptibly, the look on his face a hybrid of amusement and respect. Then he was gone.

Shortly after the conclusion of the Patel Brothers' presentation, the Surina/Natch MultiReal Fiefcorp held a meeting. The apprentices all arrived at the conference room with their belongings in tow, since they were planning to head home immediately afterwards.

Natch was surprised to discover that Margaret Surina had not come down from her perch in the Revelation Spire after the Council's departure, although most of the guards had already been redeployed around the compound. The scuttlebutt among the security staff was that Margaret was busy right now moving her office to an alcove in the spire's peak. But whatever the reason, the bodhisattva had not responded to any of Natch's ConfidentialWhispers. Instead, she sent a token message of congratulations to the entire team, the same kind of pro forma civility they had received from Lucas Sentinel, Prosteev Serly and Billy Sterno, among others.

As for Frederic and Petrucio Patel, their product demo did not go well.

Their misfortune was partly the result of a breaking news story that quickly occluded any other topic on the Data Sea. The Speaker of the Congress of L-PRACGs had been caught in a major embezzlement sting involving a group of highly placed TubeCo lobbyists. That, along with Borda's heavy-handed and highly unpopular speech, had caused a groundswell of support for the libertarians. Opponents were clamoring for a vote of no confidence in the governmentalist Speaker. The drudges were now predicting that, within the next twenty-four hours, control of the Congress would fall to rabid libertarian Khann Frejohr.

But the Patel Brothers could not completely blame their failure on bad timing. They had compounded their misfortune with a number of poor choices of their own. They had no hands-on demonstration to show the crowd. The PatelReal 1.0 program schematics floated, unused, in an enormous MindSpace bubble above the stage, while Petrucio prattled on about raging waters and safe shores. Frederic wore a hideous chocolate-brown suit that offended the sensibilities of even the most fashion-challenged members of the audience. Afterwards, the drudges spent hours comparing notes on the rampant headaches caused by the thumping bass drum of the Patels' soundtrack. Even those commentators who had been overtly hostile to Natch a day earlier had to admit that the Surina/Natch MultiReal Fiefcorp had clearly beaten its rival to the punch.