Нил Стивенсон - Termination Shock

“That they have such things.”

“This country is a mess,” Rufus allowed, “but it’s still one of the only outfits that can pull a fleet of lead-lined bulldozers out of its ass on short notice. They got started at first light, moving the pile over to cover the contaminated area and keep that shit from spreading on the wind. Gravel’s on its way. Later they’ll cap it with concrete.”

“The dead man?”

“Still there. Will be forever.” Rufus looked toward the table where T.R. had been talking to Mohinder and the army officer. They were looking down at maps and aerial photos, talking it over.

“Let’s talk later,” Saskia said. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“You enjoy horseback riding?”

“Love it.”

“Western style?”

“English, I’m afraid.”

“We’ll put you on Patch,” he said, “he’s as easygoing as they come.”

“I am very much looking forward to you taking me on a ride, Red,” she said as she was turning away. But she wasn’t sure that double entendres were his cup of tea. There was a stratum of society in which she had lived most of her life where that kind of persiflage was something you were expected to know how to do, just as you were expected to know how to shoot pheasants and use a finger bowl. She felt a bit stupid, just for a moment, that she’d used that sort of conversational gambit on this man who’d lived his life on the opposite pole of the world from all that. It wasn’t quite fair of her. She hesitated, thinking she really ought to just say what was on her mind in a more plainspoken way.

While she was dithering over how to phrase it, Rufus had turned his attention back to his grill. “Woo-eee!” he exclaimed, “I got a hot sausage here that’s about to bust open from the heat if I don’t take good care.”

She spun away to hide a blush and nearly collided with Pippa. There was a brief awkward moment. The Kiwi bent her long legs in a passable curtsy. “Your Majesty.”

“Royal Highness, if you’re going to be that way.”

“Royal Highness it is.”

“Pippa, is it? Short for Philippa?”

“Yes.”

“Saskia.” They shook hands. “I’m told you were a friend of the deceased. I’m terribly sorry.”

The low afternoon sun on Pippa’s freckled face made it obvious she’d been crying. But she wasn’t crying now. “Talking to the family will be difficult,” she said. “Not looking forward to that. Hope they don’t blame me.”

“Why ever would they?”

“I had some role in telling his story. Making him famous. Could be that I egged him on.”

“But surely you had no hand in this .”

“Oh, no, ma’am. Not at all. I drove out from L.A. when Red told me what was happening. Was hoping I could talk him out of it. But I got here too late.”

“Well . . . now you can tell the rest of his story,” Saskia suggested. “Even if it is a sad one.”

Pippa nodded. “Ma’am—to the extent you’re becoming part of that story now—I was wondering—”

“Go right ahead, dear,” Saskia said. “This is what I do now.”

Pippa gave a grateful nod and stepped out of her way.

“Gentlemen!” Saskia exclaimed, striding toward the picnic table. “Can anything be done? What’s that I see on that laptop?” It looked like a picture of some kind of obelisk or spire.

Mohinder turned his head to look back at it. “Oh, I was showing T.R. some monuments that exist in the Punjab. Built to honor the heroes of our past. Saint-soldiers who fell in battle defending our homeland”—he looked significantly between T.R. and Saskia—“from foreigners who would seek to deprive us of the Breadbasket.”

“Let’s have a talk about that, shall we?” Saskia suggested, stepping between the two men and taking each of them by an arm. They turned to follow and began walking into the most magnificent sunset Saskia had ever seen. Amelia cut in front of them to look for rattlesnakes. Pippa, flanked by a couple of video drones, fell in behind as they strolled out into the desert. “I don’t know if you’ve heard,” she said, “but I just took a new job and it’s time I got started.”

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The author is grateful to the following persons who (in some cases inadvertently) helped him in large and small ways. Note, however, that the author conceived and wrote the book himself, and so a person’s appearance on the following list should not be interpreted to suggest that they hold any position one way or the other on topics mentioned in these pages. Some of the relevant interactions happened long before I even considered writing this book!

Jacques Bergman, Nocona Burgess, Jennifer Chayes, William Collins, Craig Danner, Carolyn Dwyer, George Dyson, Beth Epstein, staff and ownership of the Figure 2 Ranch, Tony Halmos, Marco Kaltofen, David Keith, Frank Keutsch, Janno Lanjouw, Karen Laur, Jascha Little, Scott Little, Mark Long, Michael Mainelli, Charles Mann, Ravi Mirchandani, Oliver Morton, Nathan Myhrvold, Marla Nauni, Jan-Peter Onstwedder, Lennert van Oorschot, Gordon Roy, Lynn Schonchin, Tom Standage, Zoe Stephenson, Benny Tahmahkera, Troy, William Voelker, Steven Weber, Lowell Wood.

Lists such as the above can sometimes overstate the importance of casual or fleeting interactions. Books, and to a lesser extent Internet resources, are frequently more important even though I may never have interacted personally with the people who wrote them. It feels wrong to leave such persons off the list and so here are people whose writings, or in some cases digital content on the Internet, have made a difference:

I. Lehr Brisbin Jr.; Ken Caldeira; Tan Chee-Beng; the Comanche Language and Cultural Preservation Committee; Steve Cottrell; T.R. Fehrenbach; Stuart Gilbert; S. C. Gynne; Kyle Harper; Ray Horner; Theodora Kleisma; Jan A. Krancher; David LaVere; Thomas F. Madden; John J. Mayer; George A. Mealey; Leslie H. Palmier; Neil Price; D. S. Saggu; Khushwant Singh; Nikky Guninder Kaur Singh; Sargun Singh; the originators, compilers, and translators of the Shri Guru Granth Sahib; Paul Chaat Smith; Doug J. Swanson; Jean Gelman Taylor; Forbes Wilson.

As of this writing (June 2021) the author earnestly intends to post a bibliography that curious readers might use to track down relevant links and references; if that ever happens it will most likely show up at nealstephenson.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

NEAL STEPHENSONis the author of: Fall or, Dodge in Hell ; The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. (with Nicole Galland); Seveneves , Reamde , Anathem ; the three-volume historical epic The Baroque Cycle ( Quicksilver , The Confusion , and The System of the World ); Cryptonomicon , The Diamond Age , Snow Crash and Zodiac , and the groundbreaking nonfiction work In the Beginning . . . Was the Command Line .

ALSO BY NEAL STEPHENSON

Fall; or, Dodge in Hell

The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. (with Nicole Galland)

Seveneves

Reamde

Anathem

The System of the World

The Confusion

Quicksilver

Cryptonomicon

The Diamond Age

Snow Crash

Zodiac

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COPYRIGHT

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

HarperCollins Publishers