Daniel Keys Moran - A Tale of the Continuing Time 02 by The Long Run

Author:The Long Run
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

Trent shrugged. "Normal caution. I'd have told you when it seemed appropriate."

Katrina laughed, looking at him with amusement and some real degree of affection. "I want an extra two thousand CU, Trent. For the added danger."

Trent said sincerely, "I respect you too much to haggle." Katrina laughed again. "I'm sure you do." She glanced back at the empty holofield, as though it still held the image of the prone forms in the City Hall conference room. She stood. "Come in back with me."

"I thought you were never going to ask."

Katrina Trudeau said slowly, "I have some reluctance to do this to you."

Lying on the long flat table, staring straight up at fluorescent white glowpaint, Trent said, "Hell of a time to mention it. Why?"

She looked undecided for a moment. "There is—it—" She chewed on her lower lip. "Trent, you're perfect."

Trent said, "Thank you."

"I mean it," she protested. "I've been going through your X rays, the physical I ran on you the last time you were here.

Trent, you have no flaws." _. ...

Trent said again, "Thank you."

Katrina said gently, "You're not surprised."

"Should I be?"

"Yes, you should." Indecision battled clearly behind the golden eyes.

"You're so exquisite—if you were a painting you'd be a masterpiece, Trent."

Trent sighed. "Ask the question."

"I'm not prejudiced," she said. "It's important you believe that. I'm not."

"You could just ask, you know. It'd save us both a lot of time."

"Those questions they were asking at the news conference —Trent, who designed you?"

Looking directly up into her eyes, Trent said, "Suzanne Montignet."

"Doctor Montignet?" Katrina Trudeau looked absolutely astounded. "I studied under her. She—"

"Was the best. Katrina, could we talk some other time?"

The woman was very still for a moment, and then relaxed. "Of course. I would really like to hear about it sometime."

"Maybe sometime I'll tell you." Trent was silent then, while Katrina moved the machines into place around him.

"Trent?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to put you under now. It'll take a few moments, and you'll feel a bit disoriented before you go out. Just don't worry, and don't get tense; it'll be okay."

Something cool brushed Trent's arm. "Katrina?"

"Yes, Trent?"

"It's not that I don't trust you."

She said patiently, "Yes?"

"You notice my handheld's not here. My Image is not here."

"So?"

A wave of dizziness touched Trent. "So, if anything goes wrong, if I don't get in touch with my Image after this, my Image is going to come get you.

My Image," said Trent, somewhat blurrily, "has replicant code in him.

Even in the LIN I think he'd last'. . . mm . . . long enough."

Katrina Trudeau leaned over Trent's reclining form, and murmured in his ear, "It's a suspicious world we live in, love. I wouldn't hurt you." Her voice grew very remote. "How could I? There's too little art in the world to begin with. . . ."

There was a long emptiness.

. . . BOSS? HEY, BOSS?

It was like emerging from a deep and dark cavern into blazing daylight.

JOHNNY? JOHNNY JOHNNY, IS THAT YOU? Trent found himself sitting at the center of a great emptiness, watching pulsing slivers of light at the edges of the world.

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