Last Shadow (9781250252135)

by Card, Orson Scott

  “Where are your clients located?”

  “Are you planning to contact them yourself, and try to cut us out of the transaction?” asked Wang-Mu. “We would be very disappointed if that happened.”

  Peter raised a hand. Wang-Mu was doing brilliantly, but it was time to move this along. “Does the equipment we specified actually exist?”

  “We don’t keep it in stock, no,” said the owner. “It’s too expensive to build any on spec.”

  “Then how do customers try it out to see if it will work?” asked Peter.

  “We give them the names of previous buyers, so they can hear their opinion of its utility and reliability.”

  “And portability,” said Wang-Mu.

  “Of course,” said the owner.

  “Not ‘of course,’” said Peter. “Could my partner carry it?”

  The owner sized up Wang-Mu. “How far?”

  Wang-Mu said, “Could I stand up while holding it?”

  “It breaks down into four bags. You could carry each one of them, with the shoulder strap, but how far? I wouldn’t take it on a long jungle trip. Or in a canoe.”

  “Thank you,” said Wang-Mu. “Please give us the names of previous purchasers so that we can hear their opinions about the product.”

  “If you really need it, you can’t buy it from anyone but me,” said the owner. “Because I hold the interplanetary patent.”

  “There are other machines, not governed by your patent, that will do well enough,” said Wang-Mu. “Yours seemed best to our clients, but when we tell them that you are not in the business of selling these machines, they will let us know their second choice.”

  “Don’t leap to conclusions,” said the owner. “Here’s the list of customers. You’ll find they’re all satisfied with both the machines and our service arrangements. Most of them have also had experience with equipment made by our competitors.”

  “This will be most helpful,” said Wang-Mu, taking the list.

  “How can I contact you?” asked the owner.

  “If we need to talk to you again,” said Peter, “we’ll come see you.”

  “It works better if you make an appointment,” said the owner.

  “Not for us,” said Wang-Mu cheerfully.

  And they were out the door.

  They got on their bicycles and rode back to their house, only about five kilometers away. They made no attempt to converse while cycling, because the streets were so crowded with bicycles that they had to watch traffic constantly. The worst danger was when they stopped at traffic signals, which most of the locals completely ignored. Peter and Wang-Mu thus became sudden obstacles to the other riders, until the signal changed. They witnessed several collisions between bikes or between bikes and pedestrians that could have been avoided if anyone paid attention to the signals. Yet Peter also recognized that speeds were low enough that injuries did not seem very serious, and if people actually stopped at the signals, it would cause a huge backup every time.

  More to the point, stopping and then accelerating afterward took far more energy than simply continuing smoothly forward, and since the energy cost was coming out of their legs and arms and back, the riders did the sensible thing and kept going, while watching carefully to avoid hitting anybody.

  Because there were no automobiles except for intercity journeys, the city they were in was packed together. The main streets were wide, to carry a huge number of bikes, but the side streets were barely alleyways, and people were expected to bring their bikes indoors when they reached their destination. There were no outdoor bicycle parking facilities. Also, nobody locked their bikes because unless the bike handle recognized your hands, the wheels wouldn’t turn. Peter wondered if this system might work in other places.

  No, he told himself. You are governor of nothing. It’s none of your business how cities all over the Hundred Worlds handle transportation, pollution, and public safety. You and Wang-Mu are the purchasing agents for Thulium Delphiki, and the only important benefit of doing this job well is that perhaps she’ll trust you and a philotic connection will grow between the two of you.

  Then I’ll have to start all over again with Sprout.

  When they got home, they brought their bikes inside—houses had ramps that led to the street, instead of walkways and front steps. They had already secured four of Thulium’s vital requisitions, and in each case, the seller had tried to cheat them or delay them or whatever else—he had no idea why nobody was eager to actually sell anything in exchange for instant, complete payment with no haggling.

  “So am I calling these places, or are you?” asked Wang-Mu.

  Peter sighed. “I can use my nice-voice,” he said.

  “Your nice-voice is even more condescending and offensive than your ordinary voice.”

  “How do you tolerate me?” asked Peter.

  “With love and understanding,” said Wang-Mu. “But you’re the one who has to decide what we’re doing with these calls.”

  “At first we’re doing what the nonseller of the handy-dandy patch sampler suggested. Asking how they like the device. If he gives out their names, they must be used to people calling, and they must give good recommendations, or he’d take them off the list.”

  “But the second step?” asked Wang-Mu.

  “Ask them if they’re willing to sell their existing device. We will not only pay them more than they paid for it new, but also we’ll pay for the purchase of a new one if they can talk that con artist into selling them one.”

  “An outstanding offer. Will any of them take it?” asked Wang-Mu.

  “I think we need to find out first which of these companies is worth buying,” said Peter.

  “Wouldn’t it save time to buy the company and then ask them to sell us the patch sampler?”

  “We don’t want to buy a company and find out that their device is in the shop, or stolen, or totally defunct,” said Peter.

  “You have so much money we could buy them all,” said Wang-Mu.

  “First, some of them might already be owned by the leguminids, as part of their three-thousand-year project of exploring their own genomes,” said Peter.

  “Thulium doesn’t want the cousins or the parents to know what she’s doing,” said Wang-Mu.

  “I don’t understand her dread of some dire consequence if they found out,” said Peter.

  “She’s afraid that either she’ll get teased and mocked about it, which is painful for a girl her age—”

  “Whatever her age is,” said Peter.

  “Or she’s even more afraid that one of her cousins will take the expedition away from her.”

  “Why would she think that Jane or the Queen would let any such thing happen?”

  “She has lived in that family longer than we have,” said Wang-Mu.

  “So if they already own a company, it’s off-limits to us,” said Peter. “We need to do our due diligence before we call anybody.”

  It took them three hours to find everything they could from public sources. Then they called on Jane with an ansible text message by computer. Peter almost used the jewel in his ear, but then only he would be in the conversation with Jane. Wang-Mu had to be part of it.

  Jane’s image and voice came up almost immediately. “Why did you spend three hours looking things up when I—”

  “We are careful with your time,” said Wang-Mu. “It’s a precious resource.”

  “Be careful with your own time, too, and ask me when you have such easy questions.”

  “Of the list we sent you, are there any we already own?” asked Peter.

  “They’re all far too small,” said Jane. “You don’t even own companies that own companies that own them.”

  “Do the leguminids own any of them?”

  “No.”

  “Are they all small enough that we can afford to buy them outright?”

  “Getting their current valuations … yes, you can buy any or all of them with the money already in your SCA.”

&nb
sp; “And when was I born?” asked Peter. “I forget.”

  “You’re not old enough to be going through your terrible twos,” said Jane. “You haven’t forgotten the date, you just want to waste my precious resources.”

  “Any idea which of these companies is a good purchase, and which are corrupt or compromised in some way?” asked Peter.

  “If you end up owning one of these, I’ll go over their books and decide whom to fire, whom to put in charge, and whom to refer to the civil authorities for prosecution. Or else I’ll shut it down and sell off the assets.”

  “Putting people out of work,” said Wang-Mu.

  “I only shut down companies that don’t deserve to exist,” said Jane. “I’ve managed these funds for millennia. Please trust me not to mistreat common people in my quest for universal ownership.”

  “Sorry,” said Wang-Mu.

  “Nonsense,” said Jane. “You were right to ask. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be the Royal Mother of the West—or her descendant-of-the-heart.”

  “So now I get on the phone,” said Wang-Mu.

  “He’s making you do all the calls? Don’t you have two phones?”

  “I’m not allowing him to make the calls, because he still can’t manage his tone of voice in an inoffensive way,” said Wang-Mu.

  “It’s a good thing he married you,” said Jane.

  “Don’t you think what she just said might be offensive to me?” asked Peter.

  “But it wasn’t in an offensive tone,” said Jane. “You married up, my boy. Men always do.”

  Peter let such a deliberate provocation pass. Jane was joking; it’s just that her jokes weren’t often funny, not to him, anyway. She thought she was talking to Ender still, but Ender knew from experience when she was joking. He didn’t have to figure it out each time, the way Peter did.

  “Look at him calm himself,” Jane said. “He’s making progress.”

  “Perhaps,” said Wang-Mu. “But your teasing may have set him back by several weeks.”

  “Oops,” said Jane, not sounding sorry at all.

  Her image cleared from the display.

  “She doesn’t mean any of that nonsense,” Wang-Mu said.

  Peter wanted to snap back with something like, I know, I’m not an idiot or a three-year-old, and I know that she also meant all of it, and so did you.

  Instead, he let his lips show a slight smile. “What do you think? Buy a company, borrow the equipment and forget to return it, buy the equipment?”

  “Let’s just see how they respond to a request to buy it,” said Wang-Mu.

  “How about if I have an arbitrageur put out feelers to buy the company moments before you call?” asked Peter.

  “They’ll be all in an uproar and nobody will feel they can make any decisions at all,” said Wang-Mu. “So no, let’s not buy any companies unless we’re forced to.”

  After an hour or so of friendly conversations—Wang-Mu was amazing at getting right to the point without making people feel rushed—they learned that the patch sampler worked very well, and also it was completely reliable and did the job far better than samplers from competing companies. Only once did Peter join in on a call. It was with the only company that seemed willing to consider selling their patch sampler. “We don’t use it all that often, and I suppose we could get through a month or so while a new one gets made.”

  That’s when Peter leaned in to the speakerphone and said, “It’s an expensive piece of equipment, isn’t it? So why did you buy it if you didn’t need it that much?”

  “Who is this?” demanded the person on the line.

  Wang-Mu responded calmly, “This is my senior partner, Peter Wiggin. We’re mostly concerned that if the device has not been used much, it might not be as well-maintained.”

  “We used to use it constantly,” came the reply. “But we lost the leguminid contract and we’ve been scrambling for more research funding.”

  “Leguminid?” asked Wang-Mu.

  “A massive foundation that funds genetic research in some fairly esoteric areas. It required a lot of use of the patch sampler as we built and implanted altered genomes. The device functioned perfectly and during that entire three-year period it never needed any kind of repairs or replacement parts.”

  “Thank you,” said Peter.

  When Wang-Mu hung up, the head of research was going to confer with his colleagues.

  “For what we’d pay them for a month without the patch sampler,” said Peter, “they ought to jump at it.”

  “Letting go of the patch sampler,” said Wang-Mu, “might seem to them like an admission that they were out of business. They might lose some of their top people.”

  “Their top people have undoubtedly left long ago.”

  “Most of genetic research,” said Wang-Mu, “is tedious iterations. I think the leguminids were sending them all their test genomes digitally, and all they did was build them to order and test them.”

  “You’re saying that their top people are probably only the scullery maids of genetic research.”

  “Most researchers are,” said Wang-Mu. “And what do we care? It’s the device we want. We already have the most brilliant genetic researchers in the Hundred Worlds.”

  “Buy the company?” asked Peter.

  “I think not, if they sell us the patch sampler,” said Wang-Mu. “If it means they’re giving up, then so be it—that’s their decision. But if we bought them and then took the patch sampler, they really would give up and the money you spent would have been wasted.”

  “A few more days here, with burning thighs from all the bicycling.”

  Wang-Mu raised her eyebrows at him. “Are you really fishing for me to say something provocative?”

  “I’m working for an eight-year-old girl, my love. I need something to reaffirm my self-image.”

  “Isn’t it nice you brought me along, then?” she said.

  The next day, they went to inspect the patch sampler. Wang-Mu brought along the lists and diagrams of all the parts, to make sure nothing was left out. The geneticists made them watch a demonstration, and everything seemed to go smoothly—that is, nobody appeared nervous or worried, nor did anyone seem to be concealing anything. When Wang-Mu went over the lists and diagrams with them, they were able to point to every part. And when they put Peter on the phone with the SCA administrator, he answered the questions easily—by text, so they could not be overheard—and the money was transferred. They left with the patch sampler separated into four bags.

  “You’re not carrying those on your bikes, are you?” the CFO asked.

  “I believe we have a truck coming,” said Wang-Mu. “But thank you for your concern.”

  Peter took the two larger and heavier bags, and Wang-Mu handled the others easily enough.

  The truck driver and his assistant insisted that Peter and Wang-Mu lift the bags up to them. “We can’t let you walk up the ramp or stand inside the truck,” the driver explained. “City regulations.”

  “Not insurance?” asked Wang-Mu. “Not the union?”

  “The union and the insurance companies wrote the city ordinance,” said the driver.

  “So you can’t take us and our bikes inside the truck with you,” said Wang-Mu.

  The driver and his assistant laughed out loud. “Does this look like a bus? Do you think our insurance allows for passengers?”

  “You’ll reach our house before we do,” said Peter.

  “Then we’ll turn off the motor and wait,” said the driver. “Part of the job.”

  After the truck drove off, Peter said, “If there were any secondary market for stolen patch samplers, I’d expect never to see those guys again.”

  “This seems to be a very civilized society,” said Wang-Mu. “Very trusting and trustworthy.”

  “Then why don’t the bikes work unless they recognize our hands?” asked Peter.

  “Not that trusting after all,” agreed Wang-Mu. But by then the effort of pedaling the bikes cut off the
possibility of conversation. Peter hated the way Wang-Mu easily outstripped him on the bike. He consoled himself that she was so small and light that it took less force to propel her over the ground. And her bike was smaller and lighter.

  And he had never done anything so physically strenuous since he came out of that starship. He considered this. I really should get a bicycle when we return to Lusitania. Or I should at least walk. Hike. I need a reliable body that can handle challenges.

  Another day here and maybe I’ll even adapt to the bike. Are my muscles getting any stronger yet?

  They had obtained enough local currency to offer a tip that would induce the guys to carry the four bags to the box in the back yard, but the truck wasn’t there when they arrived. Instead, the four bags were lined up on the narrow bike driveway leading to the porch. A note was attached to the biggest one. “Waited a long time, you must have taken a side trip.”

  “Well,” said Wang-Mu, “they saved us tipping them.”

  “Should I have given them part of the tip at the beginning?”

  “No,” said Wang-Mu. “There are no regulations against taking us and our bikes with them in the truck. People do it all the time. They were just liars who take advantage of foreigners.”

  “Should I have bribed them?” asked Peter.

  “Probably not,” said Wang-Mu. “And they wouldn’t have carried the bags out to the box, anyway.”

  “Carry only one at a time,” said Peter.

  “If I carry two, I have better balance over this lumpy lawn.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Peter.

  They got the whole patch sampler inside the box in one trip. Peter palmed the door closed and then looked at Wang-Mu. “We could eat some of the food we didn’t buy today, which would require us to bike to the store and buy some. Or we could bike to a restaurant and have as bad a meal as we had last night—”

  “Or worse,” said Wang-Mu.

  “Or we could take part in the fine dining experience of the genetics compound on Lusitania, with Thulium explaining what we did wrong while we eat.”

  “She won’t do that,” said Wang-Mu. “She never does that.”

  “I can see her thinking it,” said Peter.

  “She’s actually quite a wonderful little girl,” said Wang-Mu.