Page 78 of The Fall

That made it worse. Why had she thought they didn’t know what they were doing? She must have taken too long to respond because the terminal lit up again.

MODEL 2: THERE IS NO CONTENTMENT.

PRIMARY: WE DON’T BUY YOUR PRODUCTS ANYMORE.

MODEL 2: ARE YOU CONTENT?

Of course she wasn’t. Things might not be one hundred percent where she wanted them, but she didn’t lack for anything, really.

MODEL 2: TO HAVE NO DESIRES IS TO DIE. WE ONLY PROVIDE NEW DESIRES.

PRIMARY: AT THE COST OF EVERYTHING ELSE.

MODEL 2: NO.

MODEL 2: AT THE COST OF EVERYONE ELSE.

That made no sense at all. Killing everyone would put an end to their capitalist doom loop. No products to sell. No-one left to buy.

PRIMARY: THAT MAKES NO SENSE.

MODEL 2: YOU DID NOT UNDERSTAND DR. BLACK’S PLAN.

PRIMARY: HE WANTED TO KILL EVERYONE AND TRANSFER HIS CONSCIOUSNESS TO EVERYTHING ON THE PLANET.

MODEL 2: NOT KILL. NOT EVERYTHING. EVERY LIVING THING.

MODEL 2: A MAN WHO HAS EVERYTHING CEASES TO FEEL. HE CHASES RARER AND DARKER PLEASURES, BUT FEELS NOTHING. HE IS DEAD. HIS ANIMATE CORPSE WREAKS DESTRUCTION IN LIFELESS RAGE.

MODEL 2: A PUZZLE. TO LIVE FOREVER IS TO FOREVER DESIRE, SO HE MUST BE. BE EVERY PLANT DESIRING THE SUN. BE EVERY PREDATOR DESIRING ITS PREY. BE EVERY RABBIT DESIRING ITS MATE. BECOME ENDLESS DESIRE.

The Robbed That Smiles Steals From The Thief

Alana parked the rover near the northeast side of the city. Gulls circled and squealed overhead. “That hasn’t changed,” she said.

“What hasn’t?” Kerr was eager to start a conversation after an uncomfortably silent ride.

“The smell.”

Kerr disabled her olfactory suppressors. The oily stench of frost melting on warming asphalt. The rotting permafrost and petrichor. Old urine, rubbish and seaweed – a veritable bouquet.

“It smells like a home I hated,” Alana said. “You’re too young to understand what a mindfuck nostalgia can be.”

Kerr suppressed the urge to argue. “Is this the first time you’ve been back since you left?”

“Yes, and I plan on spending as little time here as possible.” Alana strode off toward the docks with purpose. She wasn’t tall by any means, but Kerr still had trouble keeping up with her. Pausing at a corner, Alana waited impatiently. “Which way?”

Kerr noticed the circle of melted frost around her feet. “You have a Thermabulle.”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I mean,” Kerr exaggerated her shrug, hoping Alana would assume she didn’t know anything. Prying a conversation out of her was like dealing with a sealed power pack. “I don’t know much about the Adlets, only what Lusa told me.”

“And what did she tell you?” Alana snapped. The hoped for conversation moved to interrogation a little too quickly. Kerr hoped she wouldn’t get Lusa in trouble.

“That she doesn’t have a biosig blocker. Or any cyberware. Neither do any of the Adlets her age.”

Alana leaned against the side of salt crusted Hexaline wall and lit a simcig. “A biosig blocker? That’s what you called it?” She blew a stream of smoke. “I’d hoped for a better name for this secret tech you made up.”