Ambient (7 page)

On assurance of death, IA cars passing through the Free Zone
were left unscarred; Army boys, arms linked, shielded our land,
to certify.

"But the capital isn't touched," I said.

"Not yet."

"And our reinvestments-"

"His rumors take wing and fly. Evidence grows. I suspected
and as always I'm right. Land values in Manhattan dropping now.
In Miami and Atlantic City. New Orleans and Sydney and Leningrad. On every coast, gracias of his wordspread. The Army
wants to redivert from Manhattan to dry shore, half to Bronx and
the rest overseas. Claims no sense protecting what won't last.
Investments ruined and dead gone. My investments."

Passing into the Herald Square Secondary Zone we edged
through the crowd awaiting Times Square admittance. We slid
by city buses chugging along, passengers fly-clinging to their
graffitied hulks. Two tumbled off as we passed; a taxi swerved
to run them down. At Thirty-eighth, three cabs and a delivery
van had been torched by those impatient; the offenders-I surmised it was them-lay covered in the street as if to be sheltered
from the sun, surrounded by Army boys. Another limo, an old
Lenin, sailed by, clipping ne'er-do-wells at the corner of Thirtysixth; they whirled and fluttered like falling leaves. Wishing to
avoid Thirty-fourth Street's mania, we turned west onto Thirtyfifth, the ba-ba-da-da of "Teddy Bear" thumping along.

"We can relocate-"

"It's the interim that'll term us," said Mister Dryden. "His
idea of reinvesting covers Bronx only. He wants to close foreign
markets for fresh cash. Subvert all under his fear."

"You mean about the Green? It's not even proved--

"In his mind it is. He can't say why rain falls but he spells the
weather's future. Nightmare made flesh. We'll be exxed."

"You think he really believes it?"

"I did," said Mister Dryden, his voice lowering, "But a new
thought strikes."

We turned south onto the West Street speedway, passing the
Javits Center. All along the Hudson from Midtown down, barges
pulled into the rebuilt docks-some, at Dryco's request, built so
high above the water that elevators were needed to uplift the
freight-bringing in much of the city's imports: fabric to be reworked into clothing in the sweatshops, prepped goods ready for
resale in the big stores, service equipment of all sorts for all types.
Food was distributed through the Javits Center; by river barge,
by train from upstate, by long trucks on their twice-daily runs
through the tunnel, the produce demanded by Manhattan's throng
arrived and was dispatched by the Army boys. From the buildings' ten dozen exits poured streams of trucks, vans, cars, carts,
wagons, and dollies, all topfull with pickups. Near the newer
part, Army trucks were conveniently parked so that the choicest
items-meat, real milk, fresh fruit-could be loaded after confiscation for zone HQs. The public took what it was given-nothing
unusual in that.

"What might that be?" I asked, looking into his eyes to see
what might be there; seeing only the eyes of someone who had
escaped from something-often.

"That his plan could be subtle. That with the Green and with
the Bronx he intends only destruction. Kill what he built. What
Mom built."

"Deliberately?" I asked, surprised to hear the pot kettlespeak.

"Why else?" he said, "He's done worse. Believe."

As our conversation continued, I turned to viz the river, finding nothing beneath the glaze coating his eyes, but seeing in his
face-beyond the sweats and the shakes and the pallor-signs of
something that troubled so deep that I began to feel I should begin
to fear. Mister Dryden teetered into hysteria's edge; touchdanc-
ing the chaos astride the abyss, Enid would say.

"Why would he want to do that?" I asked, softly, so as not to
further alarm.

"Paranoia strikes deep, he says. His redeeps mine twenty over.
He wants to keep me from getting it, OM. I can't say why. He'll
gotterdam it all."

"Have you talked about this-"

"Talk's time is over. He's ready to action me now. Any day."

"Maybe not."

"He is," Mister Dryden repeated, shaking more violently; I
worried, briefly, that he'd combined his reckers carelessly, but
then his flesh settled. "He wants to take me out."

"But why?"

"He's batbrained. As I said. Shooting on impulse's charge."
Mister Dryden's lip was bloodied from his nibbling it as we spoke.
"I'm sure he thinks he works on reason still."

"Does he?"

"As said. Talk's time is over. Big action calls."

"What action plans?" I asked.

"I suspect he feels I'm going to do something to him."

"What?"

"What I plan to do to him." he said. "I'll need assistance.
Assistance most silent. Cunning calls."

Traffic slowed as we neared the Downtown Control Zone, even
in the IA lane. Inland, just before the barricade, I saw traffic
stilled along Canal Street, all awaiting passage through the Holland Tunnel, the only Hudson crossing open for public use. New
deflooding devices were being installed, and it was open only a few hours each day. The Lincoln Tunnel-closest to Midtown,
and to the Javits Center-and the George Washington Bridge,
high above water and sturdy, were reserved for Army use sole.
Oil slicks on the river, combusting, flared yellow fire as I looked
across the river's surface; old boxes, tires, papers, and wood drifted
down with the current. The sun's light, eking through clouds,
shone on Jersey City's spires, and made ashimmer the waters'
ripples. As eve drew, blue lights would arise from the Hudson's
silent passengers and float like balloons across the surface of the
deep. No one fished out corpses anymore; they all had their reasons for being there.

"My assistance?"

"You'll recompense."

"For what?"

"I won't demand," he said, "But I will detail."

"Do," I said.

"You'll need assist, after," he said. "But that in a mo. Tomorrow we weekend, upstate. The birthday, AO?" Mister Dryden's son would be ten the next day; his son and his wife lived at
the estate, for security's sake. "All sets as looks appear till night.
I access you to his study. Sunday he enters to program. You rig
a blast. Drape it in terrorchic. Any group suffices, though Maroon might best it. He goes in. He goes up. You're safetyplayed,
meantime. "

I didn't respond at once-that he slipped back into full bizspeak to outline his program, as if fearful that he might be heard,
even over the water's din, even in his own car, suggested that
more was up than seemed evident.

"AO," I nodded.

"You could method it," he said. "You walk the walk. You
talk the talk."

"AO," I repeated. With plasticine and powder and a quartz
timeset a blast was the easiest thing to rig.

"Reaction?" he asked.

"You're sure it's necessary," I asked. "No other option?"

"Nada," he sighed. "His fear grows and he sets danger for
all, OM. Keep him boiling as at present and we'll be meat for
the stew. If he snaps, it won't be me alone. He'll take my son.
Avalon, probably. You, definitely. Set him loose on the path he
knows and he could lose it all twice over. He's not above much.
If he ever chose to do what he could, all'd be lost for all. Untermed, he might do it yet."

"Do what?" I asked, realizing what subject he neared.

"Worry not, wonder-"

"AO," I interrupted, seeing I'd come no closer this day; seeing
that soon I might. "You mentioned recompense?"

"Certain," he said, the hint of a smile shading his lips. "Loving You" started up on his soundtrack. "First, a move would be
ordered. Afterward, a readjustment of rank. If son becomes father, then who becomes me?"

"Me?"

He nodded. "You've valuabled yourself thirty over, OM. Time
comes to take you from guarding and put you in your place. As
my righthand, you know so much as I. You'd become CEO."

"What about Jake?" I asked, thinking of that Kyoto sword.

"His talent lies where he leaves it. Yours needs the touch of
free air. "

"How long have you been thinking about this?" I asked,
doubtful still.

"Longtime," he said. "But the top only holds so many. Room
must clear first. You'll clear. Then you'll move."

"AO," I said.

"Second," he said, "Recompense further is already effected.
A different readjustment." Extracting a blue envelope from his
jacket pocket, he handed it over.

"What's this?" I asked, breaking the flap's glue.

"My will," he said, "Revised as of last week."

It was; I recognized the signatures of his lawyers, and their
holographic seal affixed at the bottom of each page.

"Clause 16A," he said; I found it and read it. I read it twice
more.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Even now, it steadies. Even if you decide otherwise in my
request for assistance, you'll claim 25 percent of my holdings
and future inheritances. You serve well, OM. Goodness claims
those who wait."

"Even if I decide otherwise, this stands?"

He nodded. "Though if you do, and I'm taken first," he said,
the hint of that smile long faded, "you may not enjoy for long.
His hands could cut all our strings, and drop us in middance.
Consider."

We neared our destination, the Trade Towers. Smoke still drifted
near the base of the south tower, where the latest blast had occurred. Our operations were located in the north tower, as was
Mister Dryden's downtown apartment. To the right of the towers,
near the river's edge, stood the beginnings of the floodwall. When
the possibility of the Green first showed itself, years ago, the city
borrowed funds from the Old Man toward the construction of a
fifty-foot wall intended to surround Manhattan. The funds were
no less liquid than the waters to be fought and were mostly diverted to other campaigns. The floodwall ran only from the towers south to the Battery. Traditional American handicraft was employed in the wall's construction, and so most of it had collapsed.

"I just don't know," I said, after some minutes.

"You don't want better?"

"I do."

"A better place to live you'll have. You can move out of the
freak show down there."

"I like where I'm living," I said-that wasn't strictly true, not
anymore. I liked living with Enid, who liked where we lived.

"I can't stand even thinking of those Ambients," he said,
shivering again. "The real ones, I mean."

Mister Dryden knew my sister was an Ambient, a voluntary
one; such had been reported to him many times by the anonymous wishing to further themselves.

"I'm rather used to them," I said.

"OM," he said, "You can't know how many you'll help if
you do this."

"Say that I do," I said. "Someone has to take the fall. Even
if I disguise it we'll be suspected-"

"They can't touch me," he said.

"They can me," I said; it wasn't the police, or the Army, that
concerned us, but the Old Man's guards and supporters, who had
their own interests to consider, some of whom were even more
accomplished than Jake when it came to discipline.

"You'll lowlie it after, at my request," he said. "Out of country. For a couple of months until we can reorganize. Fire a few,
here and there."

"Still-"

"Hear my last proposal and decide," he said. "You'll need
assist in this yourself, certain. Rule me out for the obvious. Trust
no one at the estate."

"Jimmy?" I asked.

"More in his pocket than mine. You'll need someone lightfooted. Sharp wits about. Trustworthied. Keen to travel. One with
whom you work well. With a bulb dimmer than yours, perhaps,
so as not to outshine."

"Who?"

He motioned toward the front seat, looking through the clear
panel. The seat was broad and the car wide; Avalon lay there, on
her knees and elbows, curled up, asleep, facing Jimmy. Her bottom was raised as if for a computer advertisement. Sharp blue
electric flushed my skin. Jimmy pulled our car onto the ramp
leading into the subtower area, and her form was lost in shadow.

"Avalon?"

"As described," he said, no discernible emotion in his voice.
This seemed entirely too much like one of my dreams; I felt my
objections drifting into sleep.

"But-"

"OM," he said. "It's time for many changes. Her fondness
feeds me no more. I see how you see her. See how she sees you
back. Only nature's way at op. This morning I saw how you
clasped, postconference. Even when eyeshut, I see. "

"I'd think you wouldn't be very happy about it-"

"I'm not, on level one. On level two, as said, it's time for
many changes. There's no point keeping what you haven't got."

A heavily guarded garage area had been built beneath the north
tower, and we were therein admitted. Jimmy pulled the car onto
the lift. At his signal, the lift rose; we floated upward, secure
within our chamber.

So--

"She'll assist, after," he said.

"In what way?"

"She'll say, Saturday, that she keens to cityshop. You'll guard.
A houseguard will drive you down. En route, the setup effects.
Once citied you'll contact the name I'll give. They'll exit you.
Wherever you wish to vacation, you can. London. Leningrad.
Zeiching. You name."

"And when we return?"

"If she wishes to stay," he said, "She can."

"With me?"

"With you."

Something roiled in my stomach as I shed all final qualms; for
a moment I felt I was being eaten from within. I looked up again,
at Avalon, and imagined myself with her, running down the roads.
That I wished so much to be with her decided my mind and buried my soul. I can only say it was a decision to do that which you
think you'd never do yourself, no matter how many others ever expected it of you-like joining the Army on whim's notion, or
tossing yourself from a moving car, or blowing up the world.

"I'll go," I said. Mister Dryden smiled. The lift stopped.

"In the office I'll pass contact info. Talk to Avalon. See if she
goes?"