BooksBarbecue
Back Gridlinked
Chapters (36)
  1. Title Page
  2. Acknowledgements
  3. Prologue
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. Epilogue
  34. From Neal Asher
  35. Praise
  36. Copyright Page

‘Of course,’ said Cormac equably, refusing to rise to the bait. Chaline had been spoiling for a fight for the last three days.

Jane walked to the console, rested her case on it, opened the case and removed the Samarkand runcible AI. It was a squashed bronze cylinder with rounded ends, its dimensions being thirty centimetres by fifteen by ten. It was one of the most powerful minds known to the human race. Jane took it to the glass font and placed it into the receptacle made for it. Then she returned to the console and began working on the touch-controls, like a concert pianist. From the rim of the receptacle rose thousands of contacts to access the rim of the AI. It seemed for a moment as if it was surrounded by an army of platinum ants. Lights flickered in the glass column.

‘On-line,’ said Chaline, detaching the receiver from her comunit and holding it to her ear. ‘Tuning . . . singularity developing . . . We’re in—that’s it, we’re on the grid.’ Chaline grinned happily at Cormac, her resentment forgotten. Then her grin changed to an expression of astonishment. ‘Wait a minute . . . there’s a transmission already. How the hell did they manage it that quickly?’

Cormac was through the interior door to the covered walkway before he knew what he was doing. Chaline and Jane came after him. In a moment they stepped into the containment sphere. Between the horns of the runcible the cusp was shimmering like a sheet of mother-of-pearl. A man stepped through it; an old grey-haired Japanese dressed in stained and baggy monofilament overall.

‘Horace Blegg,’ said Cormac. ‘That’s all I need.’

24

24

Horace Blegg: The immortal wanderer has long been a set piece of human myth, and how much more do we want him to exist in this age, when many feel that humans are no longer the arbiters of their own destiny? Blegg, so the story goes, is a man with supernatural powers that enabled him, in the twentieth century, to survive the destruction of his home city of Hiroshima by a primitive fission bomb. He is then said to have meddled with human destiny to the extent of insuring our spread across the galaxy, and the governance of us by AIs. Of course, we want this to be true! The myth assures us that we are greater, through him, than those silicon minds that do govern us. The whole story is of course absolute rubbish, and just a more modern version of Arthurian Romance.

From Quince Guide, compiled by humans