enthused.
"Right."
"Tell me about her."
"In a minute,” said the Iceman, as their waiter brought them their drinks and recited the day's special off-the-menu selections. The Kid had a plain steak, and the Iceman ordered a shellfish in a cream sauce.
"Would you like to select your own, sir?” asked the waiter.
The Iceman shook his head. “I'll trust to your taste."
"Very good, sir."
"I do love seafood,” said the Iceman when the waiter left. “You sure you don't want to have some? You can get steak anywhere."
"No, thanks."
"You're making a big mistake,” continued the Iceman. “The sauce alone is worth the price of the meal."
"Get back to the Oracle,” said the Kid impatiently. “What is she like?"
"She's a young woman with a gift,” answered the Iceman. “I first met her twenty years ago, when she was just a frightened little girl—but even then, two hundred of the best bounty hunters on the Inner Frontier were no match for her."
"You're telling me an eight-year-old girl stood off two hundred armed bounty hunters?” said the Kid skeptically.
The Iceman smiled and shook his head. “You make it sound like she beat them in a shoot-out. Her gift doesn't work like that."
"How does it work?"
"She's precognitive."
The Kid frowned. “What does that mean?"
"It means she can see the future,” said the Iceman. “More to the point, it means she can see a number of futures, and through her actions she can bring about the one that's the most favorable to her."
"How?"
The Iceman shrugged as a string quartet walked over to the fountain and started filling the room with their music. “I don't know how it works. I only know that it does work."
"Give me an example,” said the Kid.
"All right,” said the Iceman. “Let's say she's hiding from you in the cargo area here, and you've been hired to kill her.” He paused and leaned forward. “Whatever approach you take, whatever entrance you use, she'll know it even before you do. She'll see an infinite number of futures. Maybe you kill her in all but three of them. She'll figure out what she has to do to bring one of those three favorable futures into being."
"How?” asked the Kid.
The Iceman shrugged. “Maybe it'll be something as simple as her walking out one door while you walk in through another. Maybe it will be more complex, like positioning you under a crate that will drop on you and kill you once in a million times, and doing whatever it takes to make that million-to-one possibility come to pass. Maybe she'll see that of all the possible futures, there's one in which you die of a sudden heart attack; she'll analyze every facet of that future, see how it differs from all the others, and do what she can to bring it into being."
"But surely there must be some futures in which she doesn't survive,” said the Kid. “What if I surrounded the building with fifty gunmen?"
"Probably she'd still manage to find a future in which she escaped."
"Hah!” said the Kid, and one of the violinists glared at him.
"Keep your voice down,” said the Iceman. “Most of the diners would rather hear the music."
"Sorry,” said the Kid. “But you said ‘probably.’ What if she couldn't?"
"Then she'd surrender to you, and find some way to escape an hour or a day or a week from now.” The Iceman paused. “Not all problems are capable of immediate solution. She was a prisoner of some alien bounty hunter, chained to a bed in his room, when a friend of mine first found her.” He paused. “To this day, I still haven't decided whether my friend actually found her, or if she manipulated events so she would be found."
"That's some gift, that—what did you call it? —that precognition,” said the Kid.
"That it is,” agreed the Iceman. “That's why the Democracy was so set on exploiting it."
"The Democracy?"
"Who do you think hired all those bounty hunters?” said the Iceman. “Think of what someone who could not only see but manipulate the future could
"Right."
"Tell me about her."
"In a minute,” said the Iceman, as their waiter brought them their drinks and recited the day's special off-the-menu selections. The Kid had a plain steak, and the Iceman ordered a shellfish in a cream sauce.
"Would you like to select your own, sir?” asked the waiter.
The Iceman shook his head. “I'll trust to your taste."
"Very good, sir."
"I do love seafood,” said the Iceman when the waiter left. “You sure you don't want to have some? You can get steak anywhere."
"No, thanks."
"You're making a big mistake,” continued the Iceman. “The sauce alone is worth the price of the meal."
"Get back to the Oracle,” said the Kid impatiently. “What is she like?"
"She's a young woman with a gift,” answered the Iceman. “I first met her twenty years ago, when she was just a frightened little girl—but even then, two hundred of the best bounty hunters on the Inner Frontier were no match for her."
"You're telling me an eight-year-old girl stood off two hundred armed bounty hunters?” said the Kid skeptically.
The Iceman smiled and shook his head. “You make it sound like she beat them in a shoot-out. Her gift doesn't work like that."
"How does it work?"
"She's precognitive."
The Kid frowned. “What does that mean?"
"It means she can see the future,” said the Iceman. “More to the point, it means she can see a number of futures, and through her actions she can bring about the one that's the most favorable to her."
"How?"
The Iceman shrugged as a string quartet walked over to the fountain and started filling the room with their music. “I don't know how it works. I only know that it does work."
"Give me an example,” said the Kid.
"All right,” said the Iceman. “Let's say she's hiding from you in the cargo area here, and you've been hired to kill her.” He paused and leaned forward. “Whatever approach you take, whatever entrance you use, she'll know it even before you do. She'll see an infinite number of futures. Maybe you kill her in all but three of them. She'll figure out what she has to do to bring one of those three favorable futures into being."
"How?” asked the Kid.
The Iceman shrugged. “Maybe it'll be something as simple as her walking out one door while you walk in through another. Maybe it will be more complex, like positioning you under a crate that will drop on you and kill you once in a million times, and doing whatever it takes to make that million-to-one possibility come to pass. Maybe she'll see that of all the possible futures, there's one in which you die of a sudden heart attack; she'll analyze every facet of that future, see how it differs from all the others, and do what she can to bring it into being."
"But surely there must be some futures in which she doesn't survive,” said the Kid. “What if I surrounded the building with fifty gunmen?"
"Probably she'd still manage to find a future in which she escaped."
"Hah!” said the Kid, and one of the violinists glared at him.
"Keep your voice down,” said the Iceman. “Most of the diners would rather hear the music."
"Sorry,” said the Kid. “But you said ‘probably.’ What if she couldn't?"
"Then she'd surrender to you, and find some way to escape an hour or a day or a week from now.” The Iceman paused. “Not all problems are capable of immediate solution. She was a prisoner of some alien bounty hunter, chained to a bed in his room, when a friend of mine first found her.” He paused. “To this day, I still haven't decided whether my friend actually found her, or if she manipulated events so she would be found."
"That's some gift, that—what did you call it? —that precognition,” said the Kid.
"That it is,” agreed the Iceman. “That's why the Democracy was so set on exploiting it."
"The Democracy?"
"Who do you think hired all those bounty hunters?” said the Iceman. “Think of what someone who could not only see but manipulate the future could
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