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Authors: Vernor Vinge

The Collected Stories of Vernor Vinge (73 page)

BOOK: The Collected Stories of Vernor Vinge
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“Sign here, Mr. Orozco,” said the voice.
Juan did so and started toward the mailer. William was already there, kneeling awkwardly. The Goofus spazzed at just the wrong instant and lurched forward, putting his knee through the mailer carton.
Miri rushed over to him. “William! Are you okay?”
William rolled back on his rear and sat there, massaging his knee. “Yes, I’m fine, Miriam. Damn.” He glanced at Juan. “I’m really sorry, kid.” For once, he didn’t sound sarcastic.
Juan kept his mouth shut. He squatted down by the box: it was a standard twenty-ounce mailer, now with a big bend in the middle. The lid was jammed, but the material was scarcely stronger than cardboard, and he had no trouble prying it open. Inside … he pulled out a clear bag, held it up for the others to see.
William leaned forward, squinting. The bag was filled with dozens of small, irregular balls. “They look like rabbit droppings to me.”
“Yes. Or health food,” said Juan. Whatever they were, it didn’t look like William’s accident had done them any harm.
“Toad Vomit! What are
you
doing here?” Miriam’s voice was sharp and loud.
Juan looked up and saw a familiar figure standing beside the mailer.
Bertie
. As usual, he had a perfect match on the ambient lighting; the twilight gleamed dimly off his grin. He gave Juan a little wave. “You can all thank me later. This FedEx courtesy link is only good for two minutes, so I have just enough time to clue you in.” He pointed at the bag in Juan’s hand. “These could be a big help once you get in the park.”
Miri: “You don’t have
any
time. Go away!”
Juan: “You’re trashing our local exam just by being here, Bertie.”
Bertie looked from from one indignant face to the other. He gave Miri a little bow, and said, “You wound me!” Then he turned to Juan: “Not at all, my dear boy. The exam proctors don’t show you as embargoed. Technically, you haven’t started your local exam. And I’m simply calling to check in with my loyal unlimited team member—namely you.”
Juan ground his teeth. “Okay. What’s the news?”
Bertie’s grin broadened to slightly wider than humanly possible. “We’ve made great progress, Juan! I lucked out with the Siberian group—
they had just the insight Kistler was needing. We’ve actually built prototypes!” He waved again at the bag in Juan’s hand. “You’ve got the first lot.” His tone slipped into persuasion mode. “I’m not on your local team, but our unlimited exam is concurrent, now isn’t it, Juan?”
“Okay.” This was extreme even for Bertie.
I bet he had the prototypes ready this afternoon!
“So we need these ‘breadcrumbs’ tested, and since I noticed that my loyal teammate is incidentally on a field trip through Torrey Pines Park, well, I thought …”
Miri glared at the intruder’s image. “So what
have
you stuck us with? I’ve got my own plans here.”
“Totally organic network nodes, good enough to be field-tested. We left out the communication laser and recharge-capability, but the wee morsels have the rest of the standard function suite: basic sensors, a router, a localizer. And they’re just proteins and sugars, no heavy metals. Come the first heavy rain, they’ll be fertilizer.”
Miri came over to Juan and popped open the plastic bag. She sniffed. “These things stink … I bet they’re toxic.”
“Oh, no,” said Bertie. “We sacrificed a lot of functionality to make them safe. You could probably eat the darn things, Miri.” Bertie chuckled at the look on her face. “But I suggest not; they’re kind of heavy on nitrogen compounds … .”
Juan stared at the little balls.
Nitrogen compounds?
That sounded like the summary work Juan had done earlier this semester! Juan choked on outrage, but all he could think to say was, “This—this is everything we were shooting for, Bertie.”
“Yup.” Bertie preened. “Even if we don’t get all the standard function suite, our share of the rights will be some good money.” And a sure A grade on the unlimited exam. “So. Juan. These came off the MIT organo-fab about three hours ago. In a nice clean laboratory, they work fine. Now how about if you sneak them into the park, and give them a real field test? You’ll be serving your unlimited team at the same time you’re working on your local project. Now,
that’s
concurrency.”
“Shove off, Bertie,” said Miri.
He gave her a little bow. “My two minutes are almost up, anyway. I’m gone.” His image vanished.
Miri frowned at the empty space where Bertie had been. “Do what you want with Bertie’s dungballs, Juan. But even if they’re totally organic, I’ll bet they’re still banned by park rules.”
“Yes, but that would just be a technicality, wouldn’t it? These things won’t leave trash.”
She just gave an angry shrug.
William had picked up the half-crushed mailing carton. “What are we going to do with this?”
Juan motioned him to set it down. “Just leave it. There’s a FedEx mini-hub in Jamul. The carton should have enough fuel to fly over there.” Then he noticed the damage tag floating beside the box. “
Caray
. It says it’s not airworthy.” There were also warnings about flammable fuel dangers and a reminder that he, Juan Orozco, had signed for the package and was responsible for its proper disposal.
William flexed the carton. Empty, the thing was mostly plastic fluff, not more than two or three pounds. “I bet I could bend it back into its original shape.”
“Um,” Juan said.
Miri spelled things out for the Goofus: “That would probably not work, William. Also, we don’t have the manual. If we broke open the fuel system …”
William nodded. “A good point, Miriam.” He slipped the carton into his bag, then shook his head wonderingly. “It flew here all the way from Cambridge.”
Yeah, yeah.
The three of them resumed their walk down to the ranger station, only now they were carrying a bit more baggage, both mental and physical. Miri grumbled, arguing mainly with herself about whether to use Bertie’s gift.
Even with the fog, Bertie’s “breadcrumbs” could give them a real edge in surveilling the park—if they could get them in. Juan’s mind raced along that line, trying to figure what he should say at the ranger station. At the same time he was watching William. The guy had brought a flashlight. The circle of light twitched this way and that, casting tree roots and brush into sharp relief. Come to think of it, without Miri’s Marine Corps gear, a flashlight would have been even more welcome than the jackets. In some ways, William was not a complete fool. In others …
Juan was just glad that William hadn’t pushed the FedEx mailer back at him. Juan would have been stuck with carrying it around all night; the carton counted as toxic waste, and it would surely rat on him if he left it in an ordinary trash can. Ol’ William had been only mildly interested in the breadcrumbs—but the package they came in, even busted,
that
fascinated the guy.
THE PARK’S ENTRANCE AREA STILL HAD FAIRLY GOOD CONNECTIVITY, BUT THE ranger station was hidden by the hillside and Juan couldn’t get a view on it. Unfortunately, the State Parks web site was under construction.
Juan browsed around, but all he could find were more out-of-date pictures. The station might be uncrewed. On an off-season Monday night like this, a single 411 operator might be enough to cover all the state parks in Southern California.
As they came off the path, into direct sight of the station, they saw that it wasn’t simply a rest point or even a kiosk. In fact, it was an enclosed office with bright, real lighting and a physically-present ranger—a middle-aged guy, maybe thirty-five years old.
The ranger stood and stepped out into the puddle of light. “Evening,” he said to William; then he noticed the heavily bundled forms of Miriam and Juan. “Hi, kids. What can I do for you all?”
Miri glanced significantly at William. Something almost like panic came into William’s eyes. He mumbled, “Sorry, Munchkin, I don’t remember what you do at places like this.”
“S’okay.” Miri turned to the ranger. “We just want to buy a night pass, no camping. For three.”
“You got it.” A receipt appeared in the air between them, along with a document: a list of park regulations.
“Wait one.” The ranger ducked back into his office and came out with some kind of search wand; this setup was really old-fashioned. “I shoulda done this first.” He walked over to William, but was talking to all three of them, essentially hitting the high points of the park regs. “Follow the signs. No cliff climbing is allowed. If you go out on the seaside cliff face, we
will
know and you
will
be fined. Are you vision equipped?”
“Yes, sir.” Miriam raised her goggles into the light. Juan opened his jacket so his equipment vest was visible.
The ranger laughed. “Wow. I haven’t seen those in a while. Just don’t leave the batteries lying around in the park. That’s—” he turned away from William and swept his wand around Miriam and Juan “—That’s very important here, folks. Leave the park as you found it. No littering, and no networking. Loose junk just piles up, and we can’t clean it out like you can other places.”
The wand made a faint whining sound as it passed over Juan’s jacket pocket.
Boogers. It must have gotten a ping back.
Most likely Bertie’s prototypes didn’t have a hard off-state.
The ranger heard the noise, too. He held the wand flat against Juan’s jacket and bent to listen. “Damn false alarm, I bet. What do you have in there, son?”
Juan handed him the bag of dark, brownish balls. The ranger held it up to the light. “What are these things?”
“Trail mix.” William spoke before Juan could even look tongue-tied.
“Hey, really? Can I try one?” He popped the bag open as Juan watched in wide-eyed silence. “They look nice and chocolaty.” He picked one out of the bag, and squeezed it appraisingly. Then the smell hit him. “Dios!” He threw the ball at the ground and stared at the brown stain that remained on his fingers. “That smells like … that smells awful.” He jammed the bag back into Juan’s hands. “I don’t know, kid. You have odd tastes.”
But he didn’t question their story further. “Okay, folks. I think you’re good to go. I’ll show you the trailhead. I—” He stopped, stared vacantly for a second. “Oops. I see some people coming into Mount Cuyamaca Park, and I’m covering there tonight, too. You wanna go on ahead?” He pointed at a path that led northward from his station. “You can’t miss the trailhead; even if it’s down, there’s a big sign.” He waved them on, and then turned to talk to whoever he was seeing at the park in the mountains.
BEYOND THE TRAILHEAD, THE PARK WAS COMPLETELY UNIMPROVED, A WILDERNESS. For a hundred feet or so, Juan had wireless connectivity but even that was fading. Miri checked in with the exam proctor service to certify that their team was going local; since the wilderness was very soon going to isolate them from the worldwide net, they might as well get official credit for the fact!
But yuk
. Just knowing you can’t go out in the wide world for answers was a pain. It was like having a itch you can’t scratch or a sock with lump in it, only much worse. “I’ve cached a lot of stuff about the park, Miri … but some of it is kinda old.” Which would have been no problem, but now he couldn’t just go out and search for better information.
“Don’t worry about it, Juan. Last week, I spent a little money and used a 411 service. See?” A few gigabytes flickered on laser light between them … . She
was
prepared. The maps and pictures looked very up-to-date.
Miri confidently picked one of several trails and got them on a gentle path that zigzagged downward toward the northwest. She even persuaded William to use the third pair of goggles instead of his flashlight. The Goofus moved awkwardly along. He seemed limber enough, but every four or five paces there was random spikey twitching.
It made Juan uncomfortable just to watch the guy. He looked away, played with his goggles’ menu. “Hey, Miri. Try ‘VIS AMP.’ It’s pretty.”
They walked silently for a while. Juan had never been to Torrey Pines Park except with his parents, and that was when he was little. And in the daytime. Tonight, with VIS AMP … the light of Venus and Sirius and Betelguese came down through the pine boughs, casting colored
shadows every which way. Most of the flowers had closed, but there were glints of yellows and reds bobbing among the manzanita and the low, pale cactus. The place was peaceful, really beautiful. And so what if the goggles’ low-res pics only showed the direction you were looking at. That was part of the charm. They were getting this view without any external help, a step closer to true reality.
“Okay, Juan. Try laying out some of Bertie’s dungballs.”
The breadcrumbs? “Sure.” Juan opened the bag and tossed one of the balls off to the side of the path. Nothing. He popped up some low-layer wireless diagnostics. Wow. “This is a quiet place.”
“What do you expect?” said Miri. “No networks, remember.”
Juan leaned down to inspect the breadcrumb. The park ranger had gotten a faint response with his wand, but now that Juan wanted a ping response, there was nothing. And Bertie hadn’t told them an enable-protocol.
Well, maybe it doesn’t matter
. Juan was a packrat; he had all the standard enablers squirreled away on his wearable. He blasted the breadcrumb with one startup call after another. Partway through the sequence, there was a burst of virtual light in his contacts. “Hah. This one’s live!” He turned and caught up with Miri and William.
BOOK: The Collected Stories of Vernor Vinge
12.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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