Free Geosynchron by David Louis Edelman Page A

asking questions. But if you manage to escape ..."
    Natch does not hesitate. "I'll disappear."
    "Exactly. We tell Magan that you overpowered Frederic and took
his dartgun. That's not hard to believe. Then you kidnapped me and had me charter you a flight to Angelos. You completely vanish, and we
don't have to be responsible for what happens."

    "And is Frederic on board with all this?"
    "Frederic." Petrucio sighs dramatically and then rolls his eyes.
"Don't worry about Frederic-he'll see things my way, eventually."
    "Assuming the Council doesn't kill him when they reach your
pilot's house."
    "No, Borda and Lee will leave him alone. He's got nothing they
want." Patel stares at his hands, and Natch wonders if he's having
second thoughts about shooting his own brother in the back with
black code. "Frederic needs to realize that things have changed. The
world can sort out its own messes without us. And without MultiReal." He lapses into a moody silence as the South American continent
below disappears underneath a gray gauze of cloud.

    Half an hour passes. Inside the hovercraft, there is no sound except for
the almost-undetectable tapping of Hiro's foot in time to the Jamm
channel that has enveloped his senses. Either the tempo has picked up
considerably, or he has switched channels to something more upbeat.
Natch wonders exactly how complicit this pilot is with Petrucio's
schemes. Complicit enough to let the Patels use his basement as a
makeshift prison, and then to fly their prisoner hundreds of kilometers
out of his way at a moment's notice. But does he know he's going to
get shot with black code when they arrive? Does he know the Defense
and Wellness Council could be at their heels? Natch supposes it's none
of his business; Petrucio is capable of sorting out his own personal
affairs.
    Natch opens another Confidential Whisper channel with his erstwhile enemy. "If you expect me to go along with all of this, then I'm
going to need some answers."

    Petrucio's been gazing out the window for the last half hour, lost
in reflection. "Would you prefer to stay in Sao Paulo and wait for the
Council to show up?" he replies, deadpan.
    "No. But maybe I'd rather not wait until we land to use this
dartgun." He holds up the weapon and points it at Petrucio's forehead.
A can't-miss shot at this range. "Maybe I'd rather shoot you right now
and dump you in the middle of the ocean. For fuck's sake-you imprisoned me, Petrucio. Just because you decided to let me go doesn't mean
I'm going to forget this."
    Petrucio's face sparks into a grin. For some reason, extreme adversity always seems to bring out the jester in him. "All right, what do
you want to know?"
    "These defensive programs you've been building. MultiReal-D. If
I'm going to stay a step ahead of Magan Kai Lee and Len Borda, I need
to know what they are."
    "Fair enough." Petrucio stretches, sits up, and gives his most
serious stare while Natch lowers the gun back to his lap. Natch is
under no illusion that his threats have convinced Petrucio of anything.
It's obvious that the programmer resolved to impart this information
to Natch as soon as he burst into that SeeNaRee room and shot his
brother in the back.
    Petrucio narrows his eyes for a few seconds, trying to decide where
to begin. "Tell me how you can use MultiReal," he says, "to reverse
death."
    Natch again resists the urge to rub the spot on his neck where he
should have met his mortality. "I don't know," he replies.
    "Now you're just being lazy," chides Petrucio. "You've had Margaret's program for months. You haven't spent the entire time dodging
black code darts, have you? You must have thought some of these
things through. Suppose the lieutenant executive of the Defense and
Wellness Council gives you unlimited funding to build a MultiReal
program that reverses death. How do you do it?"

    Natch drops a token thought or two on the problem. "Impossible,"
he shrugs. "Or at least, that's what