The Diamond Deep (30 page)

“So we have value because we're stupid?” Onor kept watching the shifting pictures on the wall. Compared to the diversity of people and looks and ideas and places he'd seen so far on the station—and he'd hardly seen any of it yet—the
Fire
did look simple.

“Because you're a fresh perspective. I can make this work for you. I've already earned some credit showing Ruby off. The shots I took of the concert on the
Fire
are selling. I've saved some of the credit for you.”

“Credit helps you get power?”

Naveen laughed. “More like power buys you credit.”

Onor frowned.

“You'll need me to help you navigate the traps this station sets for people.”

Onor still felt lost. They needed what Naveen was offering. “I'll talk to Ruby and Joel.”

“Here,” Naveen said, reaching down and swiping across his slate. “Here's part of the credit I've earned from your images so far. When the time is right, show it to Ruby and Joel. The rest will go directly to them after I get to meet with them. Ruby is entitled to a part of whatever I make selling her images. So are you—for your images.”

“Really?”

“Look at your slate.” When Onor complied, Naveen showed him how to get access to his credit balance. There was a new number there: two-hundred seventy credits. “Show that to them,” Naveen said. “They'll have context for it after today.”

Onor slid his slate back into his pocket.

Naveen looked quite pleased with himself, as if he had imparted some great gift to Onor.

“Thank you.”

“Are you hungry?”

Onor didn't want to leave the room. “All of these pictures. I know you took some of them. But others are ours. How did you get them?”

Naveen's grin spread all the way across his face. “I hoped you would notice. I have a gift for you. You will need an AI. Most of the civilized groups like yours—the communities—have one. When you have enough credit, you can hire your own. Your ship's AI is from too old a generation to be independently employable, and you have a right to it. I grabbed a copy before Koren wiped it from the ship. I've spent the last few weeks attaching it to a communication program that will let you speak to it, and teaching it about the
Deep
.”

Onor licked his lips. Ix. “How much will it be changed?”

“It should work better. It's not a very smart one, very old. I taught it what I could. You really must save for a new one; but this will be better than nothing.” Naveen pulled a drawer that Onor hadn't even noticed out of the wall, and handed Onor a small round object that looked like an oversized ball-bearing from the water plants back on the ship. Silvery, but not shiny. Big enough to have weight, and for his palm to cup around.

“That's Ix?”

“That's a copy of Ix for you. You should be able to upload it to your community computer system.”

“Our what?”

“Your life support computer. You must have one.”

Onor shook his head. “I don't know.”

Naveen sighed. “I'll come over and look. Soon.”

Onor felt both grateful and confused. How much should he trust Naveen? “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Naveen said. “Let's eat. Time is wasting.”

“How long did I sleep? I don't even remember getting here.”

“Perhaps turnabout is fair play. I'm glad you enjoyed our alcoholic treats.”

“As soon as we rebuild the bar stock, I'll invite you back.”

Naveen laughed.

By the time they left, Onor was full of bread that melted in his mouth and smelled of herbs and flowers, strange pastes that Naveen had spread onto the breads, and three new fruits. One of the fruits had been green and smelled like sugar. He was still wearing the sparkling pants and the soft brown shirt, and felt entirely unlike himself. The ball of Ix seemed heavy because it mattered so much, even though it was actually so light and small he could barely feel it as he walked.

“Where are we going?” Onor asked.

“To scare you.”

“Why?”

“This station is layered in dangers, and I'm going to show you one of them.”

Onor tried to make light. “Only one?”

“Yesterday, I showed you some of our beauty. That was so you wouldn't despair after today.”

How . . . theatrical. Onor didn't know quite what to say, so he followed quietly. From time to time he stopped to take a picture, or to ask a question.

They used a different train than the one they had been on the day before. It took them nearly an hour to get wherever it was that Naveen was taking them.

After they disembarked, Naveen said, “This is the worst place where normal people like you and me could end up without committing a serious crime. And more important—and you must remember this—it's not something is usually talked about. You must not tell Koren we went here. She will know you and I left together, and she will know when you return, and you now have pictures of the aviary and gardens to show for your trip. That is all you'll have, and if she asks, that is where you went.”

“She won't be able to tell some other way?”

“The Deep's central systems will know—they know everything—but they're secure. Unless you commit a crime, no one can look into your every move.”

Onor felt for Ix in his pocket, cupped his hand around it. “Our AI treated us about the same on the
Fire
.”

“I'm not surprised. The core of our privacy laws were created long before you left. Just remember, the station won't divulge your moves, but people and robots can follow you illegally if they are willing to take the risk.” He grinned. “I'm seldom followed.”

“Because?”

“Because I caught some of my followers.”

“And?”

“I know how to embarrass people.”

Onor licked dry lips and wished he had some water. “Is this a jail?”

“Not exactly.”

Naveen led Onor to a window in a wall. “This is the Brawl.”

The smoky window glass distorted Onor's view, giving the scene on the other side an unreal quality, like watching the map table on the
Fire
. It showed a vast, flat place full of people. The crowding was far worse than where Onor and the rest of the refugees from the
Fire
were now. Rows and rows of cots filled the floor and served as chairs, beds, and storage. Robotic posts moved among the people. “What are the robots?” Onor asked.

“Enforcers. If you watch long enough, you'll see one of them hurt someone. Or maybe you'll see a crazy attack one and get killed on purpose. We're too far above it to really see the details, but these people live on almost nothing and a few die each day. They have air and food and water sufficient to live, but little else. Slates, I think. For entertainment.”

Onor tried to notice details. They were so far above the crowd that facial expressions were impossible to see, and of course, they could not hear any sounds through the glass. But body language spoke volumes. Protective. Confrontational. Worried. Exhausted.

“There are no children.”

“Children have not failed yet. You have to be at least a teenager to be sent here, but practically, it doesn't happen.”

“Because there are almost no children here at all.”

“Sure there are.”

Not like they had on the
Fire
. They watched for at least fifteen minutes while nothing dramatic happened below them. People moved in and out of groups, and good and bad confrontations happened. Hugs and words were exchanged, and enforcers served food from a corner.

“Why robots? Why do robots watch them?”

“Because it would turn humans cruel to do that job.”

Like the reds back on the
Fire
. A fight broke out below them. When it first caught his eye it was four people in a knot of arms and legs, a silent and strange dance to watch. Others surrounded the fighters, keeping some distance.

Onor had seen this, even on the
Fire
, the way people will circle a fight and then clap. Except there it had been children, maybe teenagers. These were adults.

“Watch for an enforcer,” Naveen whispered, pointing. “There.”

Onor squinted, looking for the enforcer through the thick window.

“And there.”

“I see it.”

Soon, people were stepping back from three of the cylindrical robots, tripping in haste. Something happened that Onor couldn't see and the combatants fell into a pile of unmoving flesh. A woman fell as well, but she rolled and then crawled away, struggling to reach the crowd which stepped ever further from both her and the enforcers.

One of the enforcers came close to her, and she turned on her back and was still, eyes fastened on the robot. She threw her arms out at her side, a gesture of surrender.

The crowd stopped at what must be safe distance—maybe four times Onor's height—watching.

A conversation occurred between the woman and the silver post. Even though he couldn't see her features clearly, he rooted for her, chewed his lip, held his breath. She must feel like he had when the spiders were chasing him, like a small piece of meat in the sights of a more powerful being. He let out a sigh of relief when she stood and backed into the watching crowd, disappearing in the mass of people. “The fighters.” His hands were clenched on the sill, and he released them. “Were they stunned?”

Naveen's voice had none of his usual mischievous edge. “That depends on what they have done before. The enforcers are not allowed to kill in most circumstances. But life down there often does not last long.”

Onor's eyes flicked over the bodies below them. He could see . . . Thousands. It had to be thousands. “How many people live on the
Deep
?”

“Millions.” Naveen closed his eyes for a second, seemed to flit away. “Forty-seven million, three-hundred and twenty-one thousand, and change. It's never more exact than that with ships going in and out all of the time.”

Onor stared down below. “There's more of these than this, then.”

“Yes.”

“And I needed to see this so I'd know how bad it can be here?”

“Your circumstances were designed to force you into the Brawl. You should know what fate awaits you if you don't accept my offer of help, or find another way to earn a
lot
of credit.”

For the first time since Marcelle had told him she carried his child, Onor felt afraid for the baby. He pulled his hands away from the windowsill to hide the fact that they were shaking.

Koren had stopped talking and looked forward, still and regal. Not a single white hair was out of place. Wherever they were going, they had been on the train long enough for Ruby to feel a need to stand, to walk, maybe to run. She resisted. Beside her, Joel was stiff and angry, and everyone in their group had grown quiet. Probably thinking, like Ruby, about the way things were here. They had all been born expecting to work, knowing their place. But even in the old striated society of colored uniforms where the reds like Ben used stunners and power to control the grays like Ruby, they always knew the general shape of their lives, and they knew that if they survived they would be fed and cared for. Four out of five people on the
Fire
died of old age, which did not seem to exist here. Now she felt unmoored, lost in a sea of new rules and new ideas and new demands. Her mind catalogued a flood of questions and spun across new worries.

When the power structures of the
Fire
changed, some people had died, most had adapted, some had thrived. They would have to adapt again. And some, like Lya and her whispering women, had chosen to be left behind.

In a way, Lya had refused to change as much as Sylva. Ruby would never have done what Joel did to Sylva; but she
would
have killed her in a fair fight. She put a hand on Joel's thigh, briefly, as unseen as possible, a reminder that she loved him. A reminder that he was warm and alive and vital.

The train slowed so smoothly Ruby barely realized they were stopping. Koren stepped off the train and waited for the others to disembark, watching them with her golden eyes, showing very little emotion. She looked like she was discharging an onerous duty, already bored, already about to move on. “Welcome to Exchange Five. This is where you can bargain for work.

“You will stay close to your guide. He will show you people from starships looking for crew, people from mining concerns looking for people to work for them, employers who need cargo moved or counted. Your slates have been sent directions about how to get here and how to get home.”

A young man—no, Ruby corrected herself, a man of indeterminate age who looked as young as Koren—came up to them and Koren turned a dazzling smile on him. “This is Lake. He is a guide who helps newcomers to the
Diamond Deep
navigate the Exchange. We have paid him to spend a few hours with you, and to then make sure that you arrive home safely. I wish you luck on our world.”