Recursion by Tony Ballantyne

Author:Tony Ballantyne
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: AI, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780553902877
Publisher: Spectra Books
Published: 2006-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

The concert ended and the meeting broke up in disarray, Constantine claiming that he needed to contemplate what had been said. Marion wasn’t happy. Only one more meeting was permitted. Constantine and Marion locked gazes for some time. Then the group was pulled apart by the random movement of the audience, Constantine joining a stream that swept him down the shallow carpeted stairs and out through a small door at the side of the hall. He walked in quiet contemplation, a ghost in the center of a colorful, chattering crowd discussing the concert.

They spilled out of the narrow doorway into the yellow evening. The disk of the sun could be seen across the empty plain, sinking beneath the horizon. The city of Stonebreak was slowing down, preparing for the transition to its night-time activities. Constantine slowed to a halt and allowed the crowd to divide itself and stream around him. A forgotten island in the middle of the homeward-bound traffic. The classical columns and entablatures of the concert hall stood behind him; before him lay the wide, flagged space of the fourth level.

—Look to your left, said Red.

Constantine did so. There was Mary Rye. She gazed at Constantine in blurred disbelief, then mumbled something.

—We penitents are all mixed up, translated Red, reading her lips.—What does that mean?

Constantine noted the bottle gripped firmly in her right hand. The hem of her green skirt was stained with something yellow. Constantine stepped toward her, but she shook her head, turned and began to lurch away in the other direction. She was quickly swallowed up by the remnants of the concert crowd.

“Mary!” called Constantine.

—She’s ignoring you, said Red.

“Thanks, Red,” muttered Constantine sarcastically. He began to run after her, pushing his way through the people. He couldn’t see her.

“Where’s she gone?” he muttered.

—Headed toward the elevators to the third level, answered Red.—Look to two o’clock.

Constantine saw her. She clutched her bottle as she scuttled across the flags, head low and shoulders hunched as if she was trying to make herself smaller. Constantine caught up with her and placed one hand on her shoulder.

“Mary,” he said. “What’s the matter?”

She turned to him, and her face was a picture of panic and fear.

“Go away, please,” she whispered. “They told me what they’d do if I tried to contact you again.” She waved the bottle in his face. “They gave me this when I promised not to speak to you.”

It was a good brand, noted Constantine. He felt a pang of real pity for this poor woman, driven further down the road to destruction by his supposed protectors. Mary turned and began to march away. There was a blur of movement and for a moment there were two Marys. One frozen before him, the other staggering toward the escalators. The pity inside Constantine evaporated instantly as he recognized what was happening. She wasn’t real. She was just part of the simulation in which he was trapped. He stepped forward, into the picture of Mary that remained smeared on the air before him, and the picture vanished as he moved within it.

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