shithub: 1f300

ref: ab0d37120321cc50a82ae3a3467904c55eadaaaa
dir: /troff/0108.ms/

View raw version
.LP
.ce
.ps 16
.CW
GRID
.R

.ps 10

.br

.ce
.ps 10
.B
1
.P

.PP

.ps 10
.DC A
ctually, my armchair is quite sophisticated.
.PP
.ps 10
Read all the reviews, but I have to disagree: handling truly is superb.  Armor
plating commensurate with industry standard.  High bandwidth, low TCO.
.PP
.ps 10
Anyway, it works for me.
.PP
.ps 10
Able to navigate the Iron Triangle.
.PP
.ps 10
Nana, the Company, and the War.  From my armchair I observe
each piece as it moves around the board.  May not understand it
all but at least I'm inscribing a record.  Upon playback, somebody else
can interpret the details.
.PP
.ps 10
Enter Slake Bottom.
.PP
.ps 10
Contractor, yes.  Construction worker, no.  Mistaken, before,
when I thought she was needling him about paint swatches.  Wasn't
really here to remodel the kitchen.  Likely that chatter was solely
for my benefit.
.PP
.ps 10
Too many hours in her bedroom with the door locked.  I'm not fooled.
.PP
.ps 10
Presently, have been able to gather more data.  Increased travel, in and out of
the Basement.  Eastern Europe.  Something
to do with inertial navigation.  Genetic?  I don't know.
Nana is here and gone seemingly on a daily basis.  Sometimes she's
in and out so quickly that she forgets and leaves her bedroom door unlocked.  Trusts
me, I guess.  Nosed around a bit but I can't make sense of her
papers.  As usual, the particulars are above my head.
.PP
.ps 10
Must be why they call this the Basement.

.ce
.ps 10
.B
2
.P

.PP
.ps 10
"Crack is here, it's just not evenly distributed yet."
.PP
.ps 10
The Vizier ran a disciplined subgovernment.  For the most part.
.PP
.ps 10
Legally speaking, he was regarded as the Colonel of Processing, Memory, and
I/O.  Multiple clone procs spawned, he was able to manage
parallel, so\-called threads at an astonishing level of complexity.  He suffered
comparatively few crashes.  On a personal note, he'd found a way to manage
his personal habits.  This new supplier meant less resources tasked to
acquisition.  These fellows might wear strange clothing, but they showed up on
time and they never ran out of product.  Claimed to be from New York.
Unlikely that it was any New York he had ever known.
.PP
.ps 10
The Vizier felt reasonably certain that his thoughts were under control.
.PP
.ps 10
"We were
.I
just
.R
having this same discussion.  Shall we continue, then,
after lunch?"
.PP
.ps 10
The Vizier took a light touch with his staff.  Let them set their own
schedules.  This method had served him well in the old country.
.PP
.ps 10
"Sounds fine.  How about that new barbecue place uptown.  Don't forget
to clock out."

.ce
.ps 10
.B
3
.P

.PP
.ps 10
Three weeks in.
.PP
.ps 10
Slake Bottom ran his hand over the boy's face, mussed his hair.  This
triggered a minimal reflex action in the child's legs.
.PP
.ps 10
"Sit still," he commanded.
.PP
.ps 10
Lunsford, ignoring the command, continued to squirm.
.PP
.ps 10
Slake shook his head.  Withdrew his bladed instrument and replaced
the lid of Lunsford's skull.  Tapped him lightly on the chest to let
him know the procedure had been a success.
.PP
.ps 10
The boy sat up.
.PP
.ps 10
"I've allowed my body to fail me again, sir," said Lunsford.
.PP
.ps 10
"Try not to think of it as pain.  You're always so focused on the
negative.  Need to develop a more diverse perspective grid."
.PP
.ps 10
"Unfortunately, I've got this unshakable grip on reality," said
Lunsford.
.PP
.ps 10
Slake Bottom lit a cigarette.
.PP
.ps 10
"We're pushing your immune system past its limits.  We need you in the
proper frame of mind."
.PP
.ps 10
"I'm
.I
trying,
.R
sir.  I want to do my best.  For the country.  It's just
that I can't stop these ideas coming into my head.  Can't go to
sleep.  Just keep thinking about what all this might mean, where
we really are, who I really am.  It's a lot to for someone my age to
take in."
.PP
.ps 10
Slake pulled on his cigarette.  Went back to work sterilizing
his equipment.
.PP
.ps 10
"We know, son."
.bp
.ce
.ps 10
.B
4
.P

.PP
.ps 10
Old woman has found the armchair.
.PP
.ps 10
Unauthorized equipment.  Strictly forbidden.
.PP
.ps 10
Evasive maneuvers ensue.  Mostly useless.  Try to bargain with her,
to no avail.  Offer to stop taking notes while on the clock.  Isn't
having any of it.  She could stop me taking notes any time she
wanted, it was true.
.PP
.ps 10
Drag the chair up, through the floor.  Out to the curb.  Don't really
want to leave it up there.  Special access.  Denied technology.  But, she won't let
me back in until I prove it's out of my reach.  She's given me a lot of
second chances.
.PP
.ps 10
Back in the closet, rubbing the floor.  Carpet looks different.  Pattern.
Shape of a grid.
.PP
.ps 10
What's the meaning of this?  Beats me.  Look at the carpet.
.PP
.ps 10
Floor finally opens.  Crawl back through.
.PP
.ps 10
Something in the Basement is different.  Lighting?  Scent?
.PP
.ps 10
Back suddenly sore.
.PP
.ps 10
Into my room.  Lay down on my bed and try to read the ceiling.
.PP
.ps 10
Unsure what's happening to me.