Kiln People Part 16

"Unless any sky-eyes are retargeted in the next few minutes. Within the grove, you'll make your first change, ditch the bag, along with the clothes you're wearing, and emerge as a utility orange-dit. We'll send a dog in later, to pick up the satchel."

"Be sure that you do. If I'm traced back to the grove, a savvy examiner will guess this car-switching dodge."

"Then you mustn't let anyone trace you back to the grove," Vic Collins concludes. "We are counting on your skill."

Oh, brother.

"The bus station is key. I'll do a dodge and weave there, through the ditto crowds. Are more supplies waiting in the locker I specified?"

"You'll find another bag containing a change of clothes and skin dye." Collins holds up a hand, guessing my next question. "And yes, the dye is a gray variant -- perfectly legal. We can say myob to the cops."

"Myob is as myob does," I retort. "If I so much as suspect I'm involved in anything higher than a Cla.s.s Six misdemeanor, I'll drop out. No matter how big a liability bond you posted."

"Relax, ditMorris," Irene soothes. "We have no fear of the law. Our sole aim in this subterfuge is to keep UK from linking us -- "

" -- or suspecting today's little reconnaissance, yes. They could make things unpleasant, even if we're legal."

"These precautions are for your rig's protection as much as ours, ditMorris. With what you learn today, we can narrow down our suspicions and follow up by slapping specific datapoenas on Universal Kilns, under the tech-disclosure laws. The beauty of it is that they'll never have a reason to ever link you to our lawsuit."

It makes sense. That is, a.s.suming I don't choose to tell Aeneas Kaolin all about this, just as soon as I pa.s.s inside Universal Kilns!

Sure, I'd forfeit my bond and lose most of Albert's hard-won credibility points, but there'd be compensations. Maybe he would make me a subject of his ditto life-extension experiments. I could have more than another twelve hours, maybe lots more!

Huh. Now where did that that thought come from? It was almost ... well, thought come from? It was almost ... well, frankie frankie ... confusing the more important "I" with the trivial ... confusing the more important "I" with the trivial i i that's thinking these thoughts. that's thinking these thoughts.

How bizarre!

Anyway, why daydream about doing things that I'll never do. Or cheap posterities that I'll never win?

"And after the bus station?" Vic Collins prompts.

"I'll catch the 330 dino to Riverside Drive and UK headquarters. Head straight for the employee entrance, wave my ID, and hope their security AI is as lax as you expect. Again, if you're wrong about that, if they ask any any inconvenient questions, I'll just turn around and leave." inconvenient questions, I'll just turn around and leave."

"We understand," the red ditto says with a nod. "But we're confident they'll let you in."

Irene and company somehow know that Ritu Maharal hired one of Albert's grays. One that went missing a few hours ago. Still, the guards at UK may may just wave me through, a.s.suming I'm on business for a major stockholder. The trick may work at the outer portal, where hundreds of realfolks and dittos pa.s.s each hour. h.e.l.l, gaggles of tourists line up there for excursion pa.s.ses, forming guided groups to view the factory where their disposable bodies are made. just wave me through, a.s.suming I'm on business for a major stockholder. The trick may work at the outer portal, where hundreds of realfolks and dittos pa.s.s each hour. h.e.l.l, gaggles of tourists line up there for excursion pa.s.ses, forming guided groups to view the factory where their disposable bodies are made.

But Wammaker and her pals expect me to breeze through several more more checkpoints, each more secure than the last, blithely peering about as I plunge deeper, on the lookout for tech-hints without ever once actually committing fraud or telling a clearcut lie! checkpoints, each more secure than the last, blithely peering about as I plunge deeper, on the lookout for tech-hints without ever once actually committing fraud or telling a clearcut lie!

(Did Vic Collins also arrange for a security lapse in advance? Some inside bribery to lubricate things? He seems the kind who might know how, with his furtive-yet-superior manner. It's a good thing I have all our conversations taped, on the recorder I'm subvocalizing into right now.) And they did did pay in advance. Crypto-cash, encoded to one of Albert's accounts. All I need do is try. Put in a modest effort. A seventy-five percent fee just for getting inside. pay in advance. Crypto-cash, encoded to one of Albert's accounts. All I need do is try. Put in a modest effort. A seventy-five percent fee just for getting inside.

Still, I wish they'd just let me drive my scooter to Universal, instead of going through this rigmarole. Amateurs. Amateurs. The rest of my "life" was devoted to them. Doing my professional best to make this ditzy, half-a.s.s spy job work. The rest of my "life" was devoted to them. Doing my professional best to make this ditzy, half-a.s.s spy job work.

But what if their suspicions are right, and I help prove it?

If Universal Kilns is deliberately suppressing major improvements in dittotech, the news could be big. Albert's reputation might skyrocket.

And I'll have made him a new enemy. One of Earth's biggest corporations.

17.

Graying Gracefully ... realAl decides on an expedition, a companion, and a disguise ...

Ritu Maharal appeared reluctant to accompany me on a last-minute trip to the desert. But how could she refuse? Hardly any of the reasons that her mother might have used -- from modesty to a hectic schedule -- have any bearing nowadays.

"It's quite a distance along twisty roads," she said, clearly looking for an out. "There could be delays. If we're gone more than a day, how will we get home?"

I had a ready answer.

"If it looks like we're about to expire, we can stop at a ditimart and get our heads frozen."

"Have you ever s.h.i.+pped your head from a ditimart?" Onscreen, her oval face gave a pursed frown. "The ditsicle can take days days to arrive, and it's never as fresh as the ads claim." to arrive, and it's never as fresh as the ads claim."

"We won't have to s.h.i.+p. I'll copy another gray and stash it in the car, to thaw if time runs short. That way I can finish scouting around some more, and still bring the heads back in a cooler."

At least, that's what I told Ritu. In fact, I had other plans. Plans she didn't have to know about.

NOHB. None of her business.

"You're sure this is important?" she asked, shaking her gleaming black locks a bit petulantly. I wondered; was this major UK stockholder quibbling over the cost of a golem?

"You tell me whether it is, Ritu. You say you want your father's death solved, yet you never bothered to tell me that your family owned a cabin by the border, just a hundred clicks from the crash site."

She winced. "I should should have mentioned it. But honestly, I thought Dad got rid of the place ages ago, before I was sixteen. Do you think it might relate to his ... accident?" have mentioned it. But honestly, I thought Dad got rid of the place ages ago, before I was sixteen. Do you think it might relate to his ... accident?"

"In my experience, nothing can be dismissed early in an investigation. So please, gather any data you can find regarding that property. And before you imprint, do spend a little time thinking about your childhood trips to the cabin, so your gray won't have trouble remembering."

I often do that -- ask the client to think hard about a subject before they send a golem to be questioned. For some reason, most people fail to imprint their Standing Wave completely. The sloppy-copy effect -- a kind of swiss cheese amnesia when the ditto tries to access older memories. It never happens to me. My grays even recall some things that I can't in real form. I wonder why.

Hesitating another moment, Ritu finally agreed with a jerky nod.

"Very well. If you think it's important."

"I'm hopeful it may help break the case."

She drummed elegant, long fingertips on the desk in front of her screen. "I'm at Universal Kilns right now. Going through some paperwork to keep busy ... though Aeneas has given me an indefinite leave of absence."

None of that was relevant to my current needs, not on any practical level. Yet I realized, suddenly, that I'd been insensitive. After all, this was about the recent death of her father.

"Yeah, well, I know it's a hard time for you. Tell me, did they ever find -- " I paused, but there were no better words. "Did they find Dr. Maharal's ghost?"

"No." Ritu stared past the monitor, looking stricken and a bit confused. Her full lips quivered. "There's been no sign of the ditto. Aeneas is quite upset about it. He thinks your missing gray might have something to do with the disappearance."

More likely the other way around, I thought, recalling the lengths Yosil Maharal took, back when he was alive, trying to drop out of sight. Top theory at the moment? My gray must have caught Maharal's ghost sneaking off. Pursuing, I must have carelessly fallen for a trap. I thought, recalling the lengths Yosil Maharal took, back when he was alive, trying to drop out of sight. Top theory at the moment? My gray must have caught Maharal's ghost sneaking off. Pursuing, I must have carelessly fallen for a trap.

I do that sometimes -- underestimate the quarry. n.o.body's perfect ... and you can can get lazy when such mistakes are never permlethal. It kind of makes you marvel at those detectives of olden times, who confronted and confounded remorseless evil while equipped with just one life. Now those guys really had it. get lazy when such mistakes are never permlethal. It kind of makes you marvel at those detectives of olden times, who confronted and confounded remorseless evil while equipped with just one life. Now those guys really had it.

So gray number one may be a puddle of dissolved slurry right now, sinking into the gra.s.s somewhere on Aeneas Kaolin's mansion grounds. And by now Maharal's ghost could be ... what? Whiling away its last hour or so in seclusion somewhere? Maybe spending it with a hired Wammaker copy, for all I knew.

Or else, more likely, executing some final ch.o.r.e for its enigmatic maker. Something deep, complex, and possibly nefarious. I couldn't shake a creepy feeling about that.

"I'm willing to send another gray to the estate, and help in the search," I offered.

"That may not be a good idea right now," Ritu answered, dubious. "Aeneas wants his own people handling that end. But you and I can still investigate other matters. In fact, this desert trip may be useful, after all. When do we start?"

Wondering at her change in tone, I nodded.

"Well, you could make a copy there at UK -- "

"I'd rather do it at home ... and pack a few things. Also, there may be some pictures of the cabin in my sc.r.a.pbook."

"That could help."

Ritu worked her mouth. "Are you sure this can't wait till morning?"

In fact, waiting might be wise. And yet, I felt a growing sense of urgency. A need to get on with the part of my plan that Ritu Maharal didn't have any reason to know about.

"I'll swing by and pick you up by six. That way, we can cross the desert at night and reach mesa country around dawn."

Ritu shrugged, appearing resigned.

"Okay. Here's my address -- "

"No." I shook my head. "We'll meet at your father's place instead. I've been meaning to give it a look-over. We can do that before heading out."

I had to pack quickly. The Volvo has an expandable compartment in back, custom-designed to haul up to three imprinted golem blanks in a vac-pac, or just one with a ready-bake kilnette. There's even room leftover to haul some forensic supplies. I had already prepared a gray ditsicle for the trunk. That left enough time for a makeover.

I stripped down, stepped into the shower, and asked Nell to gray me.

"First protect your eyes," she reminded.

"Oh, yeah." I grabbed a container off the shelf and popped out a fresh pair of dark, full-orb contact lenses. I hadn't done this for a while, so they stung a bit going in.

"Ready."

A tingling sensation began creeping upward, starting with my toes.

"Spread your legs and lift your arms," Nell said.

I complied, feeling a bit creepy as she played a resonance laser over my skin, burning off hairs and dead skin cells in a zillion microscopic protein explosions, closer than a razor could shave. Air jets blew away ash and dross, followed by ion-focused droplets of a special solution, to both seal and nurture my pores during the hours they'll spend cut off from air.

Next came the paint job, quick-staining with my own secret formula. In minutes -- lacking only some touch-ups with dits.p.a.ckle -- I could pa.s.s for a high-cla.s.s golem. Except under very close inspection. I held off inserting the mouthpiece for a while yet. It can be a bit uncomfortable.

The procedure's not exactly illegal -- not like disguising a golem golem to look real in public. But it's highly discouraged. Someone could shoot me dead when I'm like this, and get off with a mere fine. Small wonder it's not done very much. Ironically, that's why a gifted amateur like Yosil Maharal nearly pulled off an inverted version of the same ruse a few weeks ago. Studying those recorded images, my ebony specialist had been lucky to spot certain telltale discrepancies in skin texture. Discrepancies I carefully eliminated there in my dressing room. to look real in public. But it's highly discouraged. Someone could shoot me dead when I'm like this, and get off with a mere fine. Small wonder it's not done very much. Ironically, that's why a gifted amateur like Yosil Maharal nearly pulled off an inverted version of the same ruse a few weeks ago. Studying those recorded images, my ebony specialist had been lucky to spot certain telltale discrepancies in skin texture. Discrepancies I carefully eliminated there in my dressing room.

Of course I could mention another difference between me and Ritu's late father.

When he he tried this subterfuge, it was aimed at concealing some dark secret. But my reasons were simpler. tried this subterfuge, it was aimed at concealing some dark secret. But my reasons were simpler.

I was doing it for love.

Well, it felt that way at the time. Ebony-me even complained about the impulsiveness of my decision to go on this trip in person.

"You're acting on emotion. Clara left an ivory in her fridge. That should slake your animal drives till the weekend when she returns."

"An ivory's not the same. Anyway, Maharal's cabin happens to be near the battlefield! I can't pa.s.s up this opportunity to drop by and surprise her."

"Then send your own own ivory. There's no need to go in person." ivory. There's no need to go in person."

I didn't answer. The ebony was just being snippy. He knew that Clara and I can take or leave casual dittos.e.x, even with occasional outsiders, because it doesn't matter. No more than a pa.s.sing fantasy.

Because it's no real subst.i.tute for the real thing. Not to us.

"This isn't a productive use of time," said my hyperlogical doppelganger, trying a different tack while I tossed some clothes in a bag.

"That's what I have you for," I retorted. "Be productive! Can I a.s.sume our other cases are in hand?"

"They are." The glossy black version of me nodded. "But what happens when I expire, less than eighteen hours from now?"

"Stick your head in the icer, of course. I imprinted another jet, along with a gray and a green, in case you need 'em to take over."

Ebony-me sighed, as usual regarding my real self as childish and irresponsible.

"None of the new dittos will have my recent memories. Continuity will be broken."

"Then thaw your replacement an hour early and update him."

"With words words? You know how inefficient -- "

"Nell will help. Anyway, I should be back before Wednesday's ebony fades. Then I'll inload his memories, and yours, from the freezer."

"So you say now. But you've been distracted before and let brains spoil in the fridge. Anyway, suppose you get killed killed wearing that foolish disguise?" wearing that foolish disguise?"

Long fingers, the color of s.p.a.ce, reached out to pinch my faux-gray skin.

"I'll take every precaution not to let that happen," I promised, pulling away and avoiding those dark eyes. It's tough lying to yourself, especially when you're standing right in front of you.

"Be sure and do that," ebony muttered. "I'll make a lousy ghost."

Heading to Maharal's place, I shut off the Volvo's hypercautious autopilot and drove manually. Weaving through traffic helped ease my nerves ... though some green peditstrians yelled obscenely when I swerved past. All right, I could drive better. Blame my disguise for influencing me subconsciously. Or it could have been the war news.

" ... recent battlefield reversals and heavy casualties have pushed retreating PEZ-USA forces into a pocket, with their backs against the Cordillera del Muerte Mountains. Although the position seems strong for defensive tactics, oddsmakers have already begun offering early buyouts of final outcome wagers, a.s.suming the battle to be lost.