War Surf (25 page)

The desks and office supplies still lay overturned and jumbled across the floor, and nothing was tied down. I didn’t see any way to secure so many loose objects. Was this how the wench meant to kill me—death by office furniture?

“Geraldine, let’s talk this out.”

She shoved me aside and started rummaging through a pile of phone rechargers.

“Honestly, we’re sure to find some common ground if we try.” I edged around her toward the door.

“Stay where you are.” She hurled a fax printer against the wall and kept digging.

“You’re angry. I can see that. You’re going through a tough time.”

Abruptly, the siren intensified to a ululating scream. The adjustment. Those heavy steel desks would rocket around the room like meteors. When I slid another centimeter toward the door, Geraldine flung an ashtray straight at my head, and the damned thing clipped ray chin. Then she went back to mining the loose pile of office supplies.

“Sheeba, help!” I shouted, pounding on the locked door.

Geraldine seized something buried under a jumble of optic cable, and while she wasn’t looking, I jerked her hammer free from the wheel and leaned all my weight to release the lock.

“Gee.” Liam’s baritone voice thundered through the door. “Come out, Gee.”

He must have finally recognized the wench’s intentions—murder and suicide in one.

“This,” Geraldine announced triumphantly. “This what I looking for.”

She waved a small opalescent cube in the air. It looked like a holographic sales brochure. So what? A piece of marketing literature. When the door fell open, Liam grabbed my forearm and yanked me through to safety. Sheeba was waiting to enfold me and soothe my nerves. Then Liam went for Geraldine. We watched through the open door.

“Stay back, chief. I going to the garden,” she warned, holding up the little cube.

Liam grabbed her waist and lifted her like a sack. She twisted and shrieked, but he carried her out of ops bay and set her on the solar plant floor. Then Sheeba slammed the ops bay door and locked it.

“Shit, Gee.” Liam wiped sweat from his forehead. “You crazy?”

“Yeah, crazy.” She handed him the sales brochure, then pointed at me. “He the one, chief. I told you.”

Liam looked at the cube’s blank facets and shrugged. “What does it mean?”

Sheeba crouched over his shoulder. “This is an advertising brochure.” She touched the tiny button inset near one corner.

That button set off an avalanche. The room went wild. Walls flew against me, and I couldn’t tell which side smashed my head first The solar beam painted jagged shapes through the air like a dancing laser.

“Nass, the adjustment has started.” Sheeba caught my forearm and drew me against her. “Hold this.”

As the walls bucked back and forth, she closed my fingers around one of the cables anchored to the floor with magnets. We bunched together, all four of us, clinging to the cable as our bodies flipped first one way, then the other, while the room seesawed.

In the ops bay, large objects crashed. I could hear their noise through the walls. A trail of saliva or maybe vomit laced across my cheek, but I couldn’t let go of the cable to wipe it. I felt like a rag that someone was shaking to get the dust out.

Gradually, the oscillations diminished, and I lolled against Sheeba for comfort. Everyone was breathing heavily.

“Hold tight. Next wave coming.” Liam reached across Sheeba to squeeze my shoulder, an act of silent reassurance. No doubt, he saw I needed it.

As the deck started rocking back and forth again, I wrapped my arms around the cable. Long ages ago, I had lounged in Kat’s cozy shuttle with a drink in my hand and watched this phenomenon from a distance, idly speculating how it would feel.

Kaioko, strapped to her heaving mattress, was mercifully asleep. And Juani in his garden. What would that be like? I envisioned toads bouncing among the leafy steel food vats. And it struck me that if the newscasters ever learned about this, the scandal would lead the top of every hour for days. I made a mental note to release funds for that burnt-out synchronizer ASAP. But ASAP might not be soon enough. The walls were flying again.

The cable abraded my sweating hands. One quake followed another, with only the briefest of intermissions. At some point I lost my grip and ping-ponged among the turbines. Up and down became meaningless. The solar beam spun, and I grappled to catch hold of any surface, but the steam pipes scalded my palms, and the cargo net was full of sharp, bouncing machine parts. I let go and whirled away with bleeding knuckles. Liam grabbed my belt and drew me back to the cable.

Eventually the lulls grew longer than the quakes. I settled to the deck, caught my breath and tried to inventory my bruises. The veins on the backs of my hands stood out like knotted strings. Had my face aged that much, too? Geraldine started blubbering. That’s all we needed.

“Nasir?”

I twisted around to face Sheeba, and what a look she gave me. Her water-colored eyes flashed like two northern lakes reeling in storm.

I tried to cover my wrinkles with my ugly hands. How hideous I must have looked. But no, she wasn’t looking at my complexion. She was holding that sales brochure. Its active holograms danced around the cube like tiny marbling rainbows. The brochure absorbed her attention.

She didn’t have time to say anything more. Another oscillation sent us flying, and Heaven’s ailing tank careened from side to side. By a miracle, the hull stayed in one piece. I didn’t let go of the cable this time because, even if it sliced my palms to the bone, it was still safer than bouncing against a hot steam pipe.

Behind the ops bay door, furniture bashed the walls. I visualized desks rifling through the air and shards of broken plastic flying like daggers. How on Earth did the aging hull survive such punishment? Even after the quakes began to dwindle, I couldn’t stop shaking.

“First seven waves the worst,” said Liam. “The rest not so bad.” He let go of the cable and took the weeping Geraldine in his arms.

“Nasir,” Sheeba said again. “This is a Provendia brochure.”

She was still holding the little cube, staring into the depths of its holograms. I couldn’t see them well from the side. They were designed for straight-on viewing. I said, “That makes sense, dear. This is a Provendia factory.”

“But Nasir, look at this photograph of the chairman emeritus.” She held the little brochure in her hand like a fission grenade. “Nasir, it’s you.”

“Did you sign the euthanasia order?”

Shee’s eyes blazed at me, and her lips trembled. She was waiting to hear a reasonable explanation. Her dear friend, Nasir Deepra, the man with the multiplex soul, would not exterminate innocent people. She wanted me to say the man in the photo was my rogue twin brother, my runaway clone, my look-alike third cousin.

Believe me, I thought about saying those things. When I hesitated, her lovely burnished cheeks went pale. I should have lied. Instantly, glibly, I should have told her what she wanted to hear. Despite the photo caption listing my name, she would have believed me. But I didn’t say anything.

Then her eyes changed. She handed the cube to Liam, who took it with a bewildered frown and tilted it sideways.

Sheeba, please berate me. Scream. Punch me in the jaw. Do anything. Only, don’t look at me that way. Words wedged in my throat, and shame burned my face. Maybe Shee saw the wrinkles puckering around my eyes. Maybe not. What her eyes reflected was a rotting, 248-year-old cadaver, clinging so tight to a fistful of wealth that he would murder children. After a moment, she exhaled a broken sigh. If she had broken my spine in two pieces, it would have hurt less. With that quiet breath, she annihilated me.

“Chairman Emeritus,” Liam read aloud, “Nasir V. Deepra.”

Another quake convulsed us, less extreme man the earlier ones. We gripped the cable in reflex until the oscillations ended. Then Geraldine edged away while Liam turned the little cube in his fingers, comparing its iridescent projections to my living face.

Geraldine growled, “You believe me now.”

Her tears had long since dried. In a dead voice, she explained how she found the cube in the trash and gave it to Kaioko as a play-pretty. Her green eyes narrowed in my direction, and she laid her hammer across her knee. It was Kai-Kai who discovered how to make the pictures come out.

Quietly, Sheeba hissed, “Stop the euth order, Nass.” Then she pinched a pressure point on my wrist that drove hot daggers of pain up my arm.

Her violence shocked me. It left me speechless.

“He the one,” Geraldine snarled low in her throat, pointing at me with her hammer. “He say the people have to die.”

Another aftershock jolted us sideways, but no one reached for the cable this time. I could have made logical arguments, but what was the point? These youngsters wouldn’t appreciate the gravity of a financial panic. Sheeba’s fingers encircled my wrist, threatening another attack. Sheeba? My darling didn’t give pain, she took it away.

“Can I push him outta the airlock?” Geraldine said.

Sheeba released me and closed her eyes. Her expression almost made me want to take Geraldine’s offer.

“Forgive me, Sheeba.”

She jerked away as if I carried a contagion worse than Heaven’s malady. Her multicolored eyes flared like suns, and through clenched teeth, she said, “Call that ship, and make them stop.”

I didn’t know she was capable of turning on me with such fury. “My phone doesn’t work,” I said weakly. But it was the truth. If I could have called the board and rescinded that order, I would have. For Sheeba, yes, at that moment, I would have done it

Geraldine sprang to her feet. “He want euth’? I show him euth’. Let me take him, chief.”

Liam worried his beard and took his own time reasoning out a reply. “Nasir, you save my life twice. You give Kaioko your blood.” He frowned, at my photograph shimmering in the cube. “Why you come here?”

His question made my lips twitch. A lifetime ago, we planned this surf, the Agonists and I. Grimly, I recalled our motives. His question demanded an answer I couldn’t give.

“We were playing a silly game,” Sheeba said.

“Darling, no.” I gestured for her to keep silent, but she wouldn’t.

“The bullshit ends here, Nass.” Angry spots darkened her olive cheeks. She threw her head back and gazed at die ceiling as if searching for explanations. “I lied, too. I’ve been so—so dumb. All this time. I pretended that we came seeking endarkment, but that was just crap I downloaded off the Net It didn’t mean a thing.”

“Dearest, you truly believed—”

“Let me talk. It’s my turn.” She scooted across the deck till her back pressed against the wall. “I came here for recreation, like you, Nass. I wanted a quick spiritual high. Metaphysical head candy. I’m a murderer, as much as you are.”

Liam looked from Sheeba to me, and his blue irises glinted. “You both smarter than me. You trick me very completely.”

“Don’t believe her.” I gripped handfuls of air. “You know what she’s like. She’s innocent”

“Chief, I take care of this commie.” Geraldine tapped my shoulder with her hammer, and I winced.

Liam nodded. “Lock him on One for now.”

“Let him live? After what he done?” The wench stamped her foot.

“I said for now,” the chief answered.

Geraldine spun and smashed her hammer into my elbow. Then she kicked me toward the door. “Move, ‘xec.”

“Yaah!” I sprawled across the floor, clutching my elbow. “Sheeba, forgive me. Please, I beg you. I’m so sorry.”

But the time for forgiveness was past. Sheeba wouldn’t look at me. She huddled against the wall with an expression of utter misery. Another temblor convulsed Heaven, the weakest yet. When it ended, I dodged around Geraldine and tried to embrace Shee from behind. But the evil wench punched me in the kidneys, and when I fell, she kicked my ribs. I clutched at Sheeba’s legs and pressed my lips to her feet. “I love you.”

“Get off me.” Sheeba tore free and sprang beyond my reach. Her face, ye gods, how it twisted.

When Liam touched the nape of her neck, she flinched away from him, too. She would have fought him, but he forced her arms down and held her. Spasms shook her body. At last, she stopped resisting and buried her face against his filthy shirt.

I said, “How much to let her go? I have money.”

He hit me high on the cheekbone. Geraldine’s punches had been mean, but Liam’s blow carried the vengeance of Heaven. It was savage, inordinate, without reserve. My false eye lost its signal. A bone snapped in my cheek, and when my dental implants fell loose against the back of my throat, I nearly gagged. It would have been a relief to lose consciousness, but that mercy wasn’t granted. Geraldine dragged me into the corridor.

“Kai-Kai waiting to die. You like that?” She poked and jabbed me all the way to the ladder well. With only one eye, my depth perception was gone. She smashed my face against the safety hatch, then shoved me into the lock and stepped on my back as she climbed in beside me. “You wanna call your guards to euth’ her? It be easy now. She strapped to a mattress.”

Yes, Kaioko was suffering alone in sick-ward because of me. And Sheeba would die here, too. I’d lost her. My achievements, titles, wealth and possessions shriveled to ashes. What had it gained me to store up trillions of deutschdollars? Nothing I could buy would ever restore the broken pieces of Sheeba’s faith.

Geraldine bounced on top of me in the safety lock. “You never ask how Kai-Kai lost her pretty hair.” When she pushed me through the lower hatch, I missed the ladder and fell to the floor below. “She got splashed with hot soup during Justment.”

The wench dropped down beside me and landed random kicks on my torso. I imagined Kaioko’s blistered head.

“Why you couldn’t fix the rockets, huh?” Geraldine yanked me to my feet and thrust me through the bulkhead door. “Why we have to shake so much?”

My mouth filled with bile, and I choked it down. That euthanasia order wasn’t the first one I’d signed. And this wasn’t the first war my policies had launched. Twelve billion people on Earth were too many. Someone had to make tough decisions.

“Move it.” Geraldine threw me into the same wedge-shaped cell whose E, W, and A’s I had memorized ad nauseum during the first hours of my incarceration. Then she spat on the deck and slammed the door. Is it necessary to add that she turned off the light?

“By dark, you mean death, Sheeba!”

I’d shouted those words a year ago. We’d been sharing one of our late-night movie fests, lounging in a mountain of pillows.

Sheeba grinned and squeezed my thigh. “Nass, you’re leaping to conclusions.”

“I know what you’re thinking, that I’ve lived, too long.” Her stray remark about one of the actors had flipped my jealousy switch. I felt petulant. “You think I don’t deserve longevity.”

“Poor beau.” She caressed my head against her chest and gently rocked me like a baby. “You get so defensive. Why would I think that?”

“Because I’m useless. I don’t contribute anymore. All I do is consume and have fun.” I nuzzled against her and inhaled her herbal scent, needing her to contradict me.

“But you serve on those boards,” she said.

“Ha, we just rubber-stamp memos. No one really needs me.” I prayed she would disagree.

“Didn’t you have a child once?”

She threw me off track. That wasn’t the argument I expected. “You mean the sperm I left on deposit? I don’t know if EuroBank ever used it.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“They pay my interest on time. It’s not my concern how they manage the assets.”

Sheeba’s velvet eyebrows pleated in three edgy creases. Was that the only lame reason she could think of why someone might need me—a damned offspring? Her question fanned my flaming insecurity. When she sighed and restarted the movie, I jerked away.

“You don’t think I have any saving graces.”

“What do you need saving from, Nass?”

What, indeed? In the dark cell, I listened to Geraldine’s bare feet slap away down the corridor. My dental implants no longer fit in my battered face, so I took them out and pressed my ear against the steel to hear the sluicing and whuffing. Deck One sounded hollow. All the toads had been evacuated up to Five, and I missed their shrill voices humming through the walls. They were in the garden now, climbing through the trees, chasing rainbows. Did they know the word, “euthanasia”?

“Deepra, you sap. You’re weak,” I said aloud, twisting the blanket till it shredded in my hands.

Curse the bloody Reel. My action had condemned everyone here. Even with a working phone, I couldn’t reverse the euthanasia order. The board had already voted, and things had gone too far.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I butted my forehead against the wall. “Sheeba, forgive me.”

My left thumb began throbbing too painfully to ignore, so in a kind of stupor, I checked my IBiS. Its faint glow flared in the dark like a match head. The IBiS was suffering some kind of major system overload. Way too many missed appointments. Whole categories of NEMs were going on standby till they received fresh instructions through the Net. Among others, my liver NEMs were going off-line.

But more bizarrely, NEMs that had shut down earlier were spontaneously reactivating. And not just my dental NEMs. The little sodders in my thyroid had started generating new T-cells—without doctors’ orders! That was unprecedented. Against all odds, the NEMs seemed bent on their healing mission. Yet their anomalous behavior couldn’t sustain my interest. Sheeba despised me.

My fingers traced the shattered line of my cheekbone, as a person prods a toothache, making it hurt. If I could have touched that euthanasia order, what would it feel like? I tugged at my sagging flesh. Soon I would have wattles. A glossy black curl came loose in my fingers. How quickly my youth was decomposing. All these decades, the mop-headed boy in my mirror had suckered me. I’d believed that was me, but he was just a tailor’s dummy bought off a shelf. This withering eyesore was the real Nasir. My disguise had never fooled Sheeba.

A vignette of memory flashed, clearer than I wanted—Liam touching the nape of her neck. I huddled against the wall, remembering the natural way she turned to that punk for comfort. Ah Sheeba, how you fix my pain.

Wildly, I thought of writing her a note to explain my actions. Maybe if I told her what happened to my family…but of course, there was nothing to write with. Another black ringlet came loose in my hands, and what did it matter? No physical attraction of mine would have won Sheeba’s love. Shee and I were born in different times.

She would never appreciate my reasons for signing that order. She didn’t live through the horrors of sewage raining from the sky and shiploads of livestock dying beyond the reach of hungry people onshore. She didn’t have to stitch together a new world from the moldering body parts of the old one. Guarding the status quo was not in her lexicon. That moral imperative emerged from my day and time.

I twisted the blanket till its threads unraveled. She didn’t see the faces at the barred window of the warehouse in Lahore. No, scratch that. Edit that out. I don’t want to remember that part Focus on something else. Quickly…

When I got to Lahore that night, mere was looting, madness. Prashka wasn’t there. Debris blocked the streets, and ragged orange fires painted the sky. I tried to call her, but mobs had ravaged the cell towers. So I made for the old warehouse district, which by a miracle was still intact. When my Mercedes ran out of petrol, I traded its useless keys to a guard for the pass code to a deserted building. Han Tang’s Golden Empress Foods. I barricaded myself inside, climbed to the roof, and set up my antique radio. All night, I listened to the ham operators broadcasting from Calcutta. I lay there weeping, wanting to die.

But at dawn, thick smoke brought me awake, and thirst drove me inside. My appetite for life proved stronger than grief. I drank the juice from a can of lychee nuts.

Then the rioters came. They broke the fences and flowed through the warehouse district like a raging tide. I set the building’s security field to drive them away with electric shocks, but there were so many. They pressed thick around my walls, and the ones in back shoved forward, so the ones in front couldn’t stop. Their weight broke the glass windows, and their faces crushed against the sizzling electrified bars. I hid in the men’s room and drank lychee juice, pretending I couldn’t hear….

Two months later, when the mobs were gone, I still had pallets of lychee nuts. Gradually, I began to trade with the other survivors, and we set about rebuilding. That’s right, Shee. That’s who I am. A survivor. Must I be the apologist for my entire generation? Sheeba, have you forgotten that we
rebuilt the world.