Schismatrix plus by Bruce Sterling
Authors: Bruce Sterling
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, adventure, Fantasy, Science Fiction - General, Fiction - Science Fiction, Space Opera, Short Stories, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science fiction; American, Anthologies (non-poetry), Fiction anthologies & collections
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dozen of them, but that was irrelevant. They still had their House, their Senate, their legal precedents, and their ideology.
They therefore redefined Fortuna, their national territory, as the boundaries of their last surviving spacecraft, the Red Consensus. Thus equipped with a mobile nation, they were able to legally annex other people's property into their national boundaries. This was not theft. Nations are not capable of theft, a legal fact of great convenience to the ideologues of the FMD. Protests were forwarded to the Fortuna legal system, which was computerized and of formidable intricacy.
Lawsuits were the chief source of income for the pirate nation. Most cases were settled out of court. In practice, this was a simple process of bribing the pirates to make them go away. But the pirates were very punctilious about form and took great pride in preserving the niceties. ABOARD THE RED CONSENSUS: 29-9-'16
"What are you doing in the sweatbox, State?"
Lindsay smiled uneasily. "The State of the Nation address," he said.
"I'd prefer to escape it." The President's rhetoric filled the spacecraft, filtering past the slight figure of the First Representative. The girl slipped into the radiation shelter and wheeled the heavy hatch shut behind her.
"That ain't very patriotic, State. You're the new hand here; you ought to listen."
"I wrote it for him," Lindsay said. He knew he had to treat this woman carefully. She made him nervous. Her sinuous movements, the ominous perfection of her features, and the sharp, somehow overattentive intensity of her gaze all told him that she was Reshaped.
"You Shaper types," she said. "You're slick as glass."
"Are we?" he said.
"I'm no Shaper," she said. "Look at these teeth." She opened her mouth and showed a crooked overlapping incisor and canine. "See? Bad teeth, bad genetics."
Lindsay was skeptical. "You had that done yourself."
"I was born," she insisted. "Not decanted." Lindsay rubbed a fading combat-training bruise on his high cheekbone. It was hot and close in the box. He could smell her.
"I was a ransom," the girl admitted. "A fertilized ovum, but a Fortuna citizen brought me to term." She shrugged. "I did do the teeth, it's true."
"You're a rogue Shaper, then," Lindsay said. "They're rare. Ever had your quotient done?"
"My IQ? No. I can't read," she said proudly. "But I'm Rep One, the majority whip in the House. And I'm married to Senator One."
"Really? He never mentioned it."
The young Shaper adjusted her black headband. Beneath it, her red-blonde hair was long and done up with bright pink alligator clips. "We did it for tax reasons. I'd throw you a juice otherwise, maybe. You're looking good, State." She drifted closer. "Better now that the arm's healed up." She ran one fingertip along the tattooed skin of his wrist.
"There's always Carnaval," Lindsay said.
"Carnaval don't count," she said. "You can't tell it's me, tripped out on aphrodisiacs."
"There's three months left till rendezvous," Lindsay said. "That gives me three more chances to guess."
"You been in Carnaval," she said. "You know what it's like, shot up on
'disiacs. After that, you ain't you, citizen. You're just wall-to-wall meat."
"I might surprise you," Lindsay said. They locked eyes.
"If you do I'll kill you, State. Adultery's a crime." ABOARD THE RED CONSENSUS: 13-10-'16
One of the shipboard roaches woke Lindsay by nibbling his eyelashes. With a start of disgust, Lindsay punched it and it scuttled away. Lindsay slept naked except for his groin cup. All the men wore them; they prevented the testicles from floating and chafing in free-fall. He shook another roach out of his red-and-silver jumpsuit, where it feasted on flakes of dead skin.
He got into his clothes and looked about the gym room. Two of the Senators were still asleep, their velcro-soled shoes stuck to the walls, their tattooed bodies curled fetally. A roach was sipping sweat from the female senator's neck.
If it weren't for the
They therefore redefined Fortuna, their national territory, as the boundaries of their last surviving spacecraft, the Red Consensus. Thus equipped with a mobile nation, they were able to legally annex other people's property into their national boundaries. This was not theft. Nations are not capable of theft, a legal fact of great convenience to the ideologues of the FMD. Protests were forwarded to the Fortuna legal system, which was computerized and of formidable intricacy.
Lawsuits were the chief source of income for the pirate nation. Most cases were settled out of court. In practice, this was a simple process of bribing the pirates to make them go away. But the pirates were very punctilious about form and took great pride in preserving the niceties. ABOARD THE RED CONSENSUS: 29-9-'16
"What are you doing in the sweatbox, State?"
Lindsay smiled uneasily. "The State of the Nation address," he said.
"I'd prefer to escape it." The President's rhetoric filled the spacecraft, filtering past the slight figure of the First Representative. The girl slipped into the radiation shelter and wheeled the heavy hatch shut behind her.
"That ain't very patriotic, State. You're the new hand here; you ought to listen."
"I wrote it for him," Lindsay said. He knew he had to treat this woman carefully. She made him nervous. Her sinuous movements, the ominous perfection of her features, and the sharp, somehow overattentive intensity of her gaze all told him that she was Reshaped.
"You Shaper types," she said. "You're slick as glass."
"Are we?" he said.
"I'm no Shaper," she said. "Look at these teeth." She opened her mouth and showed a crooked overlapping incisor and canine. "See? Bad teeth, bad genetics."
Lindsay was skeptical. "You had that done yourself."
"I was born," she insisted. "Not decanted." Lindsay rubbed a fading combat-training bruise on his high cheekbone. It was hot and close in the box. He could smell her.
"I was a ransom," the girl admitted. "A fertilized ovum, but a Fortuna citizen brought me to term." She shrugged. "I did do the teeth, it's true."
"You're a rogue Shaper, then," Lindsay said. "They're rare. Ever had your quotient done?"
"My IQ? No. I can't read," she said proudly. "But I'm Rep One, the majority whip in the House. And I'm married to Senator One."
"Really? He never mentioned it."
The young Shaper adjusted her black headband. Beneath it, her red-blonde hair was long and done up with bright pink alligator clips. "We did it for tax reasons. I'd throw you a juice otherwise, maybe. You're looking good, State." She drifted closer. "Better now that the arm's healed up." She ran one fingertip along the tattooed skin of his wrist.
"There's always Carnaval," Lindsay said.
"Carnaval don't count," she said. "You can't tell it's me, tripped out on aphrodisiacs."
"There's three months left till rendezvous," Lindsay said. "That gives me three more chances to guess."
"You been in Carnaval," she said. "You know what it's like, shot up on
'disiacs. After that, you ain't you, citizen. You're just wall-to-wall meat."
"I might surprise you," Lindsay said. They locked eyes.
"If you do I'll kill you, State. Adultery's a crime." ABOARD THE RED CONSENSUS: 13-10-'16
One of the shipboard roaches woke Lindsay by nibbling his eyelashes. With a start of disgust, Lindsay punched it and it scuttled away. Lindsay slept naked except for his groin cup. All the men wore them; they prevented the testicles from floating and chafing in free-fall. He shook another roach out of his red-and-silver jumpsuit, where it feasted on flakes of dead skin.
He got into his clothes and looked about the gym room. Two of the Senators were still asleep, their velcro-soled shoes stuck to the walls, their tattooed bodies curled fetally. A roach was sipping sweat from the female senator's neck.
If it weren't for the
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