nothing about that. Me and her, we just hit it off, never saw her before. Put me down for Chrissakes?'
There was the distinct sound of gunmetal as the last bag hit Fat Mama's deck.
'What's all that?' asked Lambada from inside. 'Tools of the trade,' said Old Sam.
The Stop
Benny stared at the words in the book as if willpower alone would decipher them. Picking a page at random she used Zamina's eyeliner pencil to mark symbol correspondence and pattern repetitions. Strictly speaking it was a code-breaking technique but Benny had used it before to identify patterns in alien scripts. A puterdeck could have processed the whole book instantly; even Roberta's woefully primitive home computer would have handled the task in minutes.
Brain is the best tool, she told herself.
Also, even in this century computers were linked to other computers, and use of them was unsafe and therefore forbidden.
Patterns were emerging in the text. Repeated sequences of symbols in groups of two and three. Assuming this was a human language these could be linking words or identifiers. A dull pain started behind her eyes, the concentration was giving her a headache. She managed to continue for another five minutes before the pain grew too severe. Reluctantly she put the book down and lay back on the bed.
Through the bedroom wall she could hear Roberta and Zamina talking in the kitchen. They'd be cooking up some food for the two Dixie Rebs stationed in the hallway. Benny was sure of Roberta's loyalty now but she was worried about Zamina. The girl wasn't hungry enough for what Benny had to offer, she had doubts and fears that could interfere with the programme.
When she closed her eyes Benny caught glimpses of the programme in the patterns of retinal light against her eyelids. Random patches of luminescence that revealed potentialities, vague because the causal path of human behaviour was vague. Nothing for her to do for the moment but switch to downtime while certain scenarios developed.
The book was important, she knew that. She just didn't know why.
Lunarversity
When they got there Yeltsin Plaza was crawling with cops.
Campus Policemen in light blue shirt sleeves were coming and going through the repeating holograph at the entrance of Max's den. Max was sitting crosslegged on the floor outside, head bowed, arms wired behind his back. A detective stood in front of him, making notes on a clipboard.
A mostly student crowd formed a semicircle around the scene, talking quietly amongst themselves. Just about everyone on campus had done some kind of deal with Max at some time, even if it was just for bootlegged software.
Kadiatu put her hand on the Doctor's arm in warning. The detective was wearing a dogskin shirt and red and yellow Mogadishu pumps. She didn't look like local heat at all.
The Doctor didn't even slow down, he walked straight through the crowd towards the detective. Kadiatu paused for a moment and then went after him. She had to push her way through the line of people and duck quickly under the police tape to catch him. The detective looked up as they approached An ID badge pinned to her chest gave her name as Whiteriver The hologram on the badge showed a younger woman with glossy black hair and copper skin. The picture's eyes seemed to follow Kadiatu as she moved closer.
The detective opened her mouth to say something.
'What's going on, Whiteriver?' The Doctor's voice had changed, taken on a rougher, world-weary tone. His posture had changed too into something that hinted of tired authority Whiteriver took an involuntary step backwards and the Doctor plucked the clipboard from her hands. He glanced quickly at the arrest form displayed on the impact resistant screen.
Kadiatu straightened her shoulders and tried to look like back-up. Whiteriver's left hand had automatically slipped down to the weapon tucked into the waistband of her skirt. The detective opened her mouth to speak again but the Doctor held up his hand for silence.
There was the distinct sound of gunmetal as the last bag hit Fat Mama's deck.
'What's all that?' asked Lambada from inside. 'Tools of the trade,' said Old Sam.
The Stop
Benny stared at the words in the book as if willpower alone would decipher them. Picking a page at random she used Zamina's eyeliner pencil to mark symbol correspondence and pattern repetitions. Strictly speaking it was a code-breaking technique but Benny had used it before to identify patterns in alien scripts. A puterdeck could have processed the whole book instantly; even Roberta's woefully primitive home computer would have handled the task in minutes.
Brain is the best tool, she told herself.
Also, even in this century computers were linked to other computers, and use of them was unsafe and therefore forbidden.
Patterns were emerging in the text. Repeated sequences of symbols in groups of two and three. Assuming this was a human language these could be linking words or identifiers. A dull pain started behind her eyes, the concentration was giving her a headache. She managed to continue for another five minutes before the pain grew too severe. Reluctantly she put the book down and lay back on the bed.
Through the bedroom wall she could hear Roberta and Zamina talking in the kitchen. They'd be cooking up some food for the two Dixie Rebs stationed in the hallway. Benny was sure of Roberta's loyalty now but she was worried about Zamina. The girl wasn't hungry enough for what Benny had to offer, she had doubts and fears that could interfere with the programme.
When she closed her eyes Benny caught glimpses of the programme in the patterns of retinal light against her eyelids. Random patches of luminescence that revealed potentialities, vague because the causal path of human behaviour was vague. Nothing for her to do for the moment but switch to downtime while certain scenarios developed.
The book was important, she knew that. She just didn't know why.
Lunarversity
When they got there Yeltsin Plaza was crawling with cops.
Campus Policemen in light blue shirt sleeves were coming and going through the repeating holograph at the entrance of Max's den. Max was sitting crosslegged on the floor outside, head bowed, arms wired behind his back. A detective stood in front of him, making notes on a clipboard.
A mostly student crowd formed a semicircle around the scene, talking quietly amongst themselves. Just about everyone on campus had done some kind of deal with Max at some time, even if it was just for bootlegged software.
Kadiatu put her hand on the Doctor's arm in warning. The detective was wearing a dogskin shirt and red and yellow Mogadishu pumps. She didn't look like local heat at all.
The Doctor didn't even slow down, he walked straight through the crowd towards the detective. Kadiatu paused for a moment and then went after him. She had to push her way through the line of people and duck quickly under the police tape to catch him. The detective looked up as they approached An ID badge pinned to her chest gave her name as Whiteriver The hologram on the badge showed a younger woman with glossy black hair and copper skin. The picture's eyes seemed to follow Kadiatu as she moved closer.
The detective opened her mouth to say something.
'What's going on, Whiteriver?' The Doctor's voice had changed, taken on a rougher, world-weary tone. His posture had changed too into something that hinted of tired authority Whiteriver took an involuntary step backwards and the Doctor plucked the clipboard from her hands. He glanced quickly at the arrest form displayed on the impact resistant screen.
Kadiatu straightened her shoulders and tried to look like back-up. Whiteriver's left hand had automatically slipped down to the weapon tucked into the waistband of her skirt. The detective opened her mouth to speak again but the Doctor held up his hand for silence.
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