Realware Page 8

  "The Tongan Extragalactic Signal Survey," said the King, smiling.

  "Moldies are even more leery of aliens than the humans," said Onar. "With good reason. Their computational architecture is very susceptible to invasion. If Cappy Jane knew this stuff was for Shimmer, she probably wouldn't help us no matter how much we pay her."

  "Vaana knows about Shimmer," said Yoke. "And she's not objecting."

  "Yes," said the King. "But Vaana expects to share in the benefits of helping Shimmer. Now that you know, Yoke, that makes five humans and four moldies who are in on the secret. You, Onar, me, Oofa, Kennit, Vaana, Tashtego, Daggoo, and Turklee. Nine in all. And as soon as we get something from Shimmer, I'll have to tell a few more of my people. Secrets don't last on Tonga for very long. That's why we have to move forward so rapidly."

  "Mr. Olou didn't know," said Yoke. "And instead of telling him the truth, Onar killed him."

  "Mr. Olou was unreliable," said the King. "A loose cannon. He did know that some source in the Tonga Trench has been using up a large amount of the Cappy Jane bandwidth. He was very persistent in repeatedly bringing this problem to Meta West's attention. Too much so, and against my express wishes. Fortunately, I had a prior relationship with Onar, and I made sure that he was the anteater whom Meta West sent down here to deal with Mr. Olou's problem. I thought it would be a good idea to have Onar intimidate Mr. Olou within the framework of Olou's highly idiosyncratic visualization system."

  "So what was in that pale vine signal?" asked Yoke.

  "That was a red herring," laughed Onar. "I didn't really unpack the vine signal at all. Wouldn't know how to. What I did in cyberspace with you and Olou was just theater. The jellyfish thing, that was something I brought along stored in that inlaid coffin like a jack-in-the-box. I copied it off some phreaks who were using it to protect their clubhouse. I'd never tested it before, you understand, and I had no idea it would be lethal. The idea was just to frighten Olou and to impress you, Yoke. I was reckless and negligent, yes. But please don't think I'm a mind-assassin."

  "So it really was you who killed Olou?"

  "Don't blame me," said Onar. "It was the phreaks who made that stinging jellyfish." He gave a sudden giggle. "It talked Olou's ear off. More than his ear." He gave himself a playful slap on the cheek. "Sober up, Onar. It's not my fault at all. How was I to know that Olou had a weak heart? And he shouldn't have kept complaining about those extra signals."

  "But what's in the signals?" demanded Yoke. "Can't anyone tell me?"

  "Shimmer's been using Cappy Jane to download the personality waves of more aliens from her home world," said the King. "Isn't it obvious? Shimmer's specified a certain class of gamma ray burst events for Cappy Jane to record, preprocess, and transmit. And these signals are of course alien personality waves. Apparently Shimmer's been able to decrypt five or six of her fellows by now. That's what she wants to discuss with you, Yoke. Champagne?"

  "Indubitably," said Onar, holding out his and Yoke's glasses. "Let's drink to the noble Shimmer! Oofa can take Yoke down into the trench to meet her tomorrow."

  "We're supposed to be sitting here planning to help aliens invade the Earth?" said Yoke. "You two are xoxxed! Where's your sense of self-preservation?"

  "It's what's happening, baby," said Onar. "There's no stopping Shimmer. If you want to blame someone, blame Gurdle-7 or Willy Taze. They're the ones who decrypted Shimmer's signal in the first place. But now she's here, and we're going to have to live with her, at least for a while. It's a new stage in history. Hop aboard or get plowed under."

  "Shimmer's got good things for us," said the King. "She's promised to give us realware."

  "What's that?" asked Yoke.

  "It's some kind of magic or super science that Shimmer has," said Onar. "Direct matter control. We don't know much more than that. I think maybe when you dive down to see Shimmer tomorrow she's going to give it to you. She trusts you or something. You're up for this, right?"

  Yoke sat quiet for a minute, thinking. She'd loved talking with the aliens that time on the Moon; she'd been sad and angry when her parents attacked them. Onar was probably right about there being no way to stop Shimmer now. And Yoke knew that even if she wanted to try and stop Shimmer, the only thing to do was to go farther in. "Okay," said Yoke slowly. "But I'm only diving if I'm safe inside of Cobb. And before we dive, I'm going to tell him every detail about what we're doing."

  She held up her hand to stave off Onar and the King's protests. "I think I know why you don't want Cobb to know. He's a grandstander, a loudmouth. You're afraid he'll whip up a movement against the aliens. You're afraid everyone will react like Darla --like Darla would if she were still around." Her voice faltered as she thought of her dead mother. She caught her breath and pressed on. "But remember that Cobb Anderson is an explorer. A radical. The total opposite of those right-wing, moldie-hating Heritagists. If Cobb had a closed mind he wouldn't have built the boppers in the first place. Cobb loves change. And who knows, maybe his death experiences taught him something about the kind of world where Shimmer comes from."

  "I could have you both silenced," mused the King. "Thanks to the ID viruses, it's like you're not even here."

  "You wouldn't dare," said Yoke, deepening her voice and sounding more confident than she felt. "Shimmer would never forgive you. Don't you think she's already thought through the consequences of your talking to me? It's like we're dustboarding down an extreme slope, Bou-Bou. If you waver now, you'll fall. The only way to do this is straight and fast."

  "Well said, Yoke!" Onar held up his glass. "A toast to Lady Yoke Starr-Mydol!" And the King toasted along.

  "I expected as much from you, Yoke," said the King presently. "You have spirit. Yes, you're the one to bring back the realware. And that's the real reason I had Eleani put out the ID virus on you. Because if and when the news of the realware gets out, everyone's going to want to find the person who has it." Yoke and Onar rode back across the lagoon in a wooden boat propelled by the yellow slug moldie, whose name turned out to be Topo. Topo fastened himself to the underside of the boat and beat the water like a long-tailed eel. It was a clear, balmy night, with a caressing breeze of sweet fresh air flowing in from the sea. The full moon shone high overhead. Onar pointed out the pinprick of light that was Cappy Jane. Topo's underwater undulations left a glowing trail, and when Yoke let her hand dip into the smooth black water, it made a phosphorescent wake of tiny green sparkles.

  "It's wonderful to share this with you, Yoke," said Onar, pulling his arm tight around her. "I love to see you smile."

  "Liar," said Yoke, leaning against him. "I'm just a pawn in your scheme."

  "Compared to Shimmer, we're plankton," said Onar, looking out over the lagoon.

  "The best we can do is glimmer in her wave. I won't lie to you again, Yoke. I care much more for you than I expected. You're so fresh and kind and good." Onar kissed her then, and the boat ride turned fully as romantic as Yoke had hoped: the tropical lagoon, the champagne in her veins, and her arms around this handsome, raffish, not-quite-trustworthy man. When they got back to the guest house, Yoke made a snap decision that it would be a good idea to sleep with Onar after all.

  But Onar turned out to be a poor lover, certainly the worst of Yoke's few partners thus far. Onar stinted on the foreplay, made a long messy fuss of his prophylactic preparations, and was up for at most sixty seconds of actual coitus. As a final turn-off, Onar said something British when he came, something like "Cor blimey," or "Top drawer," or "Bit of all right"--Yoke's outraged brain disdained to retain the phrase.

  In the night, Yoke had a nightmare about her dead mother Darla, a dream of Darla desperately firing her needier gun at an endless attack wave of softly smiling jellyfish. She woke up in a sweat, feeling cramped in Onar's bed. She washed her face in the grungy guest house bathroom, then went into her own room to fall back asleep.

  February 21

  The next morning, Saturday, Yoke woke to the sound of a rooster crowing right outs
ide her window. The first thing she thought about was Darla. And Phil's father. They'd been eaten by something from a higher dimension. And all of a sudden Yoke could remember what the cyberspace jellyfish thing had said when it came at her yesterday. "You love Onar," it had been saying. "Do what Onar says." The jellyfish had been quite thoroughly under Onar's control. Mr. Olou's death had been no accident. Onar was a killer. And now she was supposed to let Onar take her to meet Shimmer? What about Shimmer and the four-dimensional things that had eaten Darla and Phil's father? Was there a connection? Oh, this was creepy. Yoke pushed on to other thoughts. The fat, polite King in his soap-bubble castle. The romantic ride across lagoon. The unpleasant, selfish groping in Onar's bed. Too bad she hadn't come here with Phil Gottner instead. That Kevvie didn't deserve to keep a boy like Phil. He was the cutest thing she had met on Earth so far. Phil would be perfect, if only he could learn to take hold of life and do something.

  Before even getting out of bed, Yoke put on her uvvy, wincing a bit. Her neck was still tender from the jellyfish blast at the Foreign Ministry. She called for Cobb. His signal was faint and weird, so Yoke sent him an extra hard mind jolt. There was a thud right outside her window and then Cobb's face appeared out there.

  "What? I was lying on the roof."

  "Shhh! Come in here."

  Cobb slithered through Yoke's window to perch on the foot of her sagging bed. He was nothing like so pink and shiny as usual. And he reeked of decay.

  "I'm really spun," said Cobb, sounding satisfied. "Two of the moldies at the Bottom Club turned me on to this stuff called 'betty.' I rubbed it onto myself and whoah, Nellie. It's the first time I've found a way to use this body to catch a lift. 'Fine, fine betty,' my new friends call it. Tashtego and Daggoo. They work for Sea Cuke Divers. Tashtego's a moldie fakaleiti. I think maybe I had sex with him? Or no, wait, that was another moldie I did it with. A green one. Her name was V-something. She rubbed even more betty on me. Are we diving today?"

  "Are you going to be okay, Cobb? You look way kilpy." Cobb's normally clean outlines were wavering and irregular, with small ripples darting about upon the surface of his skin. His rosy flesh was shot through with lines of gray.

  "A shower would help," said Cobb. "I could open my pores and let the water flush out the toxins. But--not yet." He slumped against the wall. "I have too much slack. It feels good to be lifted." He held his hands up in front of his face, slowly moving them as if watching their motion trails.

  "I'm not sure we should dive at all," mused Yoke. "There's more to it than you realize. Stop looking at your hands and pay attention! The biggest news is that there's an alien named Shimmer living down in the Tonga Trench. The King says Shimmer wants me to come see her. She's been decrypting more aliens out of signals from this Tongan Meta West Link satellite called Cappy Jane. Yesterday Onar killed a Tongan man who'd been trying to stop Shimmer from using Cappy Jane. For some reason Onar and the King don't want you in on this, Cobb. The King's a cheeseball by the way; his girlfriend is a moldie named Vaana." Cobb stopped wiggling his fingers and looked past them at Yoke. "Killed?" said Cobb, not sounding so happy anymore. His motionless gray-streaked hands were in supplicating claw positions. "Vaana?"

  "You better take that shower, Cobb. You want me to help you?"

  "Help," said Cobb, and suddenly slipped off the bed onto the floor. He was more than lifted, he was poisoned.

  Yoke dragged the stinking heavy moldie down the hall to the guest house bathroom. Another guest, a German woman, was just vacating it. She gave Yoke a disgusted look as she stepped over the inert Cobb. But she didn't bother to ask any questions. It was a very cheap guest house.

  Yoke wrestled Cobb into the concrete shower stall and turned the controls on all the way, which produced a limp drizzle. The water didn't seem to be penetrating Cobb fast enough, so Yoke got into the shower and started kneading him with her feet. The shower wasn't exactly hot, but it wasn't freezing cold either. Out of reflex, Yoke picked up a stray sliver of soap and started washing herself, all the while jouncing around on the soft moldie flesh of Cobb. As she washed she thought about making love to Onar--which made her wash herself the more thoroughly. Triple ugh for Onar. Three ughs and you're out.

  There was a shuddering beneath her feet. Yoke turned her attention back down to Cobb. Thanks to her trampling, the water was squeegeeing in and out of his flesh. The water coming out of Cobb was dark as if with dust or pollen. His eyes were open, glassily staring up at Yoke's body. She flipped him over with a deft motion of her feet and continued to tread on him.

  The bathroom door swung open and in walked Onar, nude, with a morning erection.

  "Cheerio, Yoke," he said. "Care if I join you? Missed you in bed this morning."

  "It's pretty full in here," said Yoke. "Someone poisoned Cobb."

  "What a stench!" exclaimed Onar, peering into the shower. "Don't tell me you're trying to save him? That'll never work."

  "Why shouldn't I try?" snapped Yoke. "Do you want to just let him die? Don't bother to answer. And stop staring at me."

  "You shouldn't waste your time," said Onar. "I've seen this kind of thing happen before. An overdose of betty. All of his fungus nodules are bursting out with spores, and the spores are going to poison him. Kiss the old duffer good-bye, Yoke. We'll find you another dive-moldie. Oofa's expecting us at nine sharp."

  "Sure she is," said Yoke. "On the dot. Get out of here. It was a big mistake to sleep with you. Onar the one-minute wonder."

  "Goood morning," said Onar, and left the room.

  More and more of the dark dust, the spores, was coming out of Cobb. Some of the dust wafted up toward Yoke. She put a wet washrag over her face to keep from getting lifted. She kneaded Cobb harder and harder.

  Finally the old man's moldie flesh was pink again. His tissues drew back into the shape of a human. He groaned and got to his feet.

  "Man. What a burn."

  "You're all right now?" asked Yoke. Even though Cobb smelled awful, she hugged him. His flesh was cool and smooth.

  "When we go in the ocean I'll really clean myself out," said Cobb, hugging her back. "Thank you, dear Yoke. I think you saved my life. That green moldie woman, that Vaana, she smeared too much betty on me. Crazy. Like there was no tomorrow."

  Yoke got out of the shower and began toweling herself off. "She was trying to kill you, Cobb. She's the King's girlfriend. She must have flown straight to the Happy Club after I left the palace."

  Cobb remained in the shower stall, flexing his body to squeeze out a little more of the spore-darkened water. "So the King wants me dead," he said finally. "Did he mention why?"

  "Last night I thought it was because he thought you'd talk too much. Now I'm thinking maybe it's because he didn't want you here to protect me when I dive down to see Shimmer today."

  "Shimmer," said Cobb. He stepped out of the shower, looking vague. "Yoke dear, you're going to have to repeat what you told me in your room. Your words flew past me like a flock of-- hummingbirds. Shimmer's an alien, right? And when you say alien, you mean an honest-to-God extraterrestrial?"

  "Duh! Shimmer was one of the alien personality waves who decrypted into moldie bodies at Willy Taze's house in November. My parents killed all the others. And Shimmer got away. She's living down in the Tonga Trench. The King says Shimmer's bringing in a bunch of her relatives to live here. And for some reason she wants to meet with me."

  "Real aliens!" exclaimed Cobb. "At last! I'd love to meet this Shimmer."

  "You're in no condition."

  "Hell I'm not. Buy me some quantum dots to get my energy up, Yoke, and I'll be good as new." Cobb stretched himself to an alarming height, then snapped back like a rubber band. "It's fuckin' great to be alive."

  "I'm scared Shimmer might get me, Cobb. When I woke up this morning I started thinking about the four-dimensional things that ate Kurt Gottner and my mom. If that's what really happened, then maybe those things were from the aliens. Shimmer comes from a place where there's two-dimensi
onal time."

  "If Shimmer could kill Kurt in California and Darla on the Moon, then she could kill us right here and now if she wanted to," said Cobb. "So why not go and have a talk with her face-to-face? What does she look like?"

  "She's in a moldie body. She has such a huge intelligence that her body's perfectly formed. It's like she's consciously aware of the curvatures of each square millimeter of her surface. She's inhumanly beautiful, Cobb. Like a glowing marble sculpture."

  "Wow," said Cobb, visibly tweaking his body shape as if trying out the idea of making himself look divine. "Do I look good enough to meet her?"

  "You look fine," said Yoke, even though Cobb only looked like a stocky, freckled white-haired old man pulling in his stomach. "Let's go back to my room. You stick with me before something else happens to you."

  Yoke put on her new purple Santa Cruz bikini and a long chartreuse T-shirt. She and Cobb went out into the guest house common room. It was a bare old room, beautified by bowls of water with hibiscus blossoms floating in them. Mrs. Yoshida and her cook Waloo were serving breakfast: coffee, papayas, and toast. Mrs. Yoshida was a trim, no-nonsense lady with her hair in a black bun; Waloo was calm, smiling, and stocky. Onar was sitting at the table in a fresh clean sport shirt covered with satellite weather photos of the South Pacific, all blues and whites and grays.

  "Feeling better, Cobb?" said Onar.

  "Vaana dosed me," said Cobb. "Do you know where Yoke can buy me some quantum dots?"

  Onar shook his head and began, "And I'm afraid that's -- "

  But Mrs. Yoshida interrupted him. "I can sell you some dots, Yoke. My husband, bless his soul, bought too big a supply of them for his boat and they're just sitting on a shelf in a magnetic bottle. You pay cash?"